The Power of Play in Theater

I see it constantly in workshops: if I ask participants to “act,” they often begin monitoring themselves immediately.

They wonder what they should do with their hands, how they should use their voice, whether they are interesting, or whether they are making fools of themselves. Instead of acting, they watch themselves act.

If I give them a clear objective, establish a few rules, and introduce an obstacle, something changes. Their attention shifts from how they appear to what they need to do. Their body and voice stop being problems to solve and become the tools they need to achieve a purpose.

This is the power of play in theater.

It is not limited to children. Play can engage participants of any age, and it does not make the work any less serious. On the contrary, when it is designed thoughtfully, it allows us to explore some of the fundamental mechanisms of theatrical action with great precision.

The Shared Structure of Play and Theater

Drawing on a framework proposed by Luca Spadaro, we can identify four fundamental elements within play:

1. The self: the person taking action, with their own body, abilities, and limitations.

2. The rules: the boundaries within which the action can develop.

3. The objective: what must be achieved and what guides the choices being made.

4. The obstacle: what prevents the objective from being achieved immediately and forces the participant to look for solutions.

The same elements are present in an actor’s work.

A character acts within a particular set of circumstances, wants something, and encounters resistance. Without an objective, the action loses direction. Without an obstacle, there is no genuine need to invent. If the rules are unclear, participants do not know what reality they are operating within.

“In a game, the objective is central to my work as an actor,” Luca Spadaro writes.

This centrality has a concrete effect on the participant’s behavior.

We need only compare two instructions.

In the first, we say: “Cross the space in an interesting way.” Participants will probably begin wondering what might appear interesting to those watching them.

In the second, we say: “Reach the door before your partner can stop you.” Now there are both an objective and an obstacle. Participants no longer need to invent a way of appearing interesting: they need to act.

The second instruction does not automatically produce an effective theater scene, but it reveals the mechanism very clearly. When the objective is concrete, the body begins to organize itself around the action.

From Self-Judgment to Action

It would be too simplistic to say that self-judgment does not exist during play. Even while playing, people may be afraid of making a mistake, exposing themselves, or not being capable enough.

A well-designed game, however, shifts the focus from self-judgment to the objective.

Participants do not magically lose their insecurities: they stop placing them at the center of their work. They no longer need to keep wondering what to do with their hands, because their hands are needed to grasp, push away, protect, or reach something. They do not need to decide abstractly how to use their voice, because their voice is needed to persuade, call out, conceal, or prevent.

Action answers many of the questions that can block actors when approached solely as technical problems.

The workshop leader’s task is to design games in which the objective is clear, the obstacle is real, and the rules are precise enough to provide direction without determining the solution in advance.

If the obstacle offers no real resistance, the game does not require invention. If it is disproportionate, it may produce frustration or paralysis. The level of difficulty must be calibrated to the participants and to where they are in the process.

Having Fun Does Not Just Mean Laughing

Enjoyment encourages engagement, but it should not be confused with constant laughter or with ease.

A theater game can be demanding and intense and may require great concentration. The pleasure comes from becoming fully absorbed in an action, attempting a solution, failing, and being able to try again.

When participants are truly immersed in the game, they invest energy, take greater risks, and more readily step outside their usual expressive habits.

Enjoyment is an engine, not the destination.

If, by the end of a workshop, participants have had fun but developed no new awareness, the workshop leader has organized an enjoyable activity, not necessarily a process of theater education.

A workshop cannot be a succession of games selected because they work well, make people laugh, or fill the time. Every activity must serve a precise purpose within the overall process.

A Game Is Not an Isolated Exercise

A theater game does not automatically have educational value. Its value depends on why it is proposed, when it is introduced, and how it is reflected on afterward.

The same game can be used to work on listening, rhythm, use of space, alertness, relationships, or character development. What changes is the instruction, the workshop leader’s focus, and the questions asked at the end.

Before proposing an activity, the workshop leader should know:

• Why am I choosing this game?

• What do I want to observe?

• What difficulty within the group can it address?

• What do participants need to become aware of?

• How does it prepare them for the next step?

Without these questions, the workshop risks becoming a collection of disconnected exercises. The workshop leader becomes an entertainer who offers activities instead of a guide through a process.

Being a guide does not mean knowing every outcome in advance. The workshop leader knows the destination, but the route changes with the people involved.

The leader must know where the group needs to go and ensure that it reaches the destination, while still allowing participants to find unexpected solutions, to surprise, and to be surprised.

Shared Rules, Personal Responses

A game gives everyone the same rules, but it does not demand the same response.

Faced with the same objective, each participant draws on their own body, sensitivity, and way of reading the situation. Differences are not eliminated: they become creative material.

At the same time, the game forces participants to engage with one another. Having a good individual idea is not enough. They must listen to what is happening, accept other people’s proposals, and adjust their own actions.

Participants who tend to dominate must learn to recognize the consequences of other people’s actions. Those who usually remain on the sidelines instead find a rule that gives them space and makes their contribution necessary.

The freedom offered by play does not mean doing whatever we want. It arises from the meeting point between personal possibilities and shared boundaries.

From Play to Autonomy

At the beginning of the process, the rules, objectives, and obstacles are established by the workshop leader.

Gradually, participants must learn to recognize and construct them for themselves. They must become capable of understanding what makes an action necessary, what kind of obstacle can drive it forward, and what rules allow a scene to work.

Play thus becomes a tool for achieving autonomy in both creation and performance.

The aim is not to train people who can correctly perform a series of exercises, but to develop participants who can create, choose, and test their own theatrical solutions.

Creativity is not a decoration reserved for a few particularly gifted individuals. It is the ability to connect existing elements and use them to produce something new.

It is no coincidence that the Italian words creare—to create—and crescere—to grow—share an ancient root. In a theater workshop, growth takes place precisely when participants stop waiting for a solution from outside and begin constructing one of their own.

Conclusion

The power of play in theater does not lie simply in helping participants relax or making the session enjoyable.

Play focuses attention on the objective, transforms the obstacle into a creative necessity, and allows actors to act before judging themselves.

Through precise rules, it offers a space in which participants can experiment freely. Through repetition and reflection, it transforms what happened spontaneously into a conscious skill.

The workshop leader’s task is not to fill the workshop with activities, but to construct a process in which every game prepares a discovery and every discovery can be carried into the next stage of the work.

Play is not a break from theater.

It is one of its deepest structures.

Further Reading

• Viola Spolin, Improvisation for the Theater, 1963.

• Luca Spadaro, L’attore specchio, 2019; Recitare le emozioni, 2023.

• Jacques Copeau, Il Teatro Semplice.

• Dario Fo, Manuale minimo dell’attore, 1987; published in English as The Tricks of the Trade, 1991.