Actor, Puppet, Space. The Semantics of Stage Space in the Puppet–Actor Relationship

Puppeteer (Puppet Actor)

In the art of theatre, the only true subject is the actor, while the theatrical puppet, as a stage subject, can exist only within the bounds of a convention created by a human being.

A puppeteer is the one who activates a plastic (visual) form. Without them, the theatrical puppet, as a stage character, cannot exist. Their role in setting the puppet universe in motion is fundamental, unique, and carries great responsibility. A puppeteer also takes on the tasks of a dramatic actor; they may act as a partner (not to be confused with the function of an animator) for the puppets within a performance, or as a performer. The range of tasks of the contemporary puppeteer is quite extensive; what distinguishes them from a dramatic actor is their interaction with, and acting through, plastic matter.

I believe that we, puppeteers, would find Józef Szajna’s view on the role of the actor in his theatre particularly close:

Here, the actor frees themselves from naturalistic acting and integrates with an artistically imagined reality. The actor becomes not so much a creator of a role as an animator of theatrical events.[1]

Statements by visual artists regarding the crucial role of the puppeteer in activating their theatrical visual worlds seem especially telling. Leokadia Serafinowicz (director, set designer) succinctly defines the essence of the direction of acting in her 1977 artistic program:

I designate a place for the centre of theatrical action.
I give actors an object to initiate intrigue or to shape the drama.
That is all.[2]

In turn, Jadwiga Mydlarska-Kowal (set designer) formulates somewhat different expectations of the actor in puppet theatre:

An actor is a plastic material in dramatic theatre. In puppet theatre, however, they set in motion the space and forms that I, as a set designer, create within myself. I believe that an actor in puppet theatre should have a vast visual imagination. The actor activates the form, must experience it, must feel it. […] and this is precisely what distinguishes a puppet theatre actor from a dramatic actor.[3]

Joanna Braun (set designer) speaks of a different kind of responsibility:

Since the audience is present, it evidently expects that something will be said or conveyed to it; that together […] something will be experienced within the given time. But how will the puppet manage this, and more specifically the puppeteer? There are many paths—one must choose, for example, by painstakingly searching for a divine particle within real, though lifeless matter, ultimately leading to a harmony of coexistence between the animator and the animated. Then it becomes possible that this coexistence will result in dialogue. Simply put: to use one’s craft (and technique) to set matter in motion; to move lightly and gracefully from mechanics to mysticism, as suggested by Heinrich von Kleist. Impossible? Possible![4]

It seems that visual artists expect from the puppeteer a certain visual sensitivity, as well as the ability to truly “see” the form (the puppet) they will have to engage with. This “seeing” is not merely an artistic postulate but, in practice, a necessity. Among the puppeteer’s duties is the extraction of an individual movement from the puppet—encoded in its designed construction—and the conscious, creative use of it within the space proposed by the set designer.

I also try to search within technique so that the actor […] can find something interesting for themselves. Sometimes I feel dissatisfied that they do not search, that they are given something in hand and rarely think to use what the set designer has created, to explore other possibilities.[5]

This sense of insufficiency in collaboration between actor and set designer, expressed by Rajmund Strzelecki, still seems relevant today, although such a generalization is not entirely objective, as it certainly does not apply to all actors. Nevertheless, the reflections above draw attention to the expectations placed on the actor. It is worth recalling the insightful view of the esteemed artist Mikhail Korolyov:

[…] only through an equal and harmonious collaboration between two creators—the actor and the visual artist—who must complement each other, enrich one another with ideas, and together form an inseparable unity. […] The actor, representing the dramatic element, imposes specific forms on the visual artist’s work, whose creation is the puppet; in turn, by handing the puppet to the actor, the artist imposes a specific style of performance upon them.[6]

The theatrical puppet, as a visual form, possesses inherent artistic qualities.
The puppeteer should be able to discover and highlight them. Echoing Witkacy, we may say that an actor—and especially a puppeteer—should have a visual arts education.[7]

This postulate by Henryk Jurkowski, along with statements by other visual artists, underscores the nature of the theatrical material the puppeteer must confront in order to create meaningfully. One might add, paraphrasing Paweł Passini’s reflection from Exercises Toward a Manifesto[8], that my acting, sometimes narcissistic “I” is replaced by a “something” which, by my will, becomes “someone.” This should be remembered by actors, as Passini aptly put it: “Animation is the projection of the ‘self’ beyond itself.”[9]

Few people realize that a puppeteer performs “from memory.” Regardless of the chosen puppetry technique, they are unable to see the puppet in its entirety while animating it. A full view of the puppet is the exclusive privilege of the audience or a stage partner who is simultaneously operating another puppet. Each type of puppet requires a different approach to animation. Depending on the technique, the actor adopts a specific position that allows for the most effective activation of movement.

Therefore, in order to manipulate a puppet effectively, the puppeteer must undergo appropriate training each time, regardless of their familiarity with particular techniques. This can be compared to tuning an instrument. No two puppets are identical, either technically or visually. When designing a theatrical puppet, the visual artist gives it individual visual characteristics and, depending on the intended tasks—defined or suggested by the director—proposes a range of possible movements.

Understanding the full technical potential of a puppet is the responsibility of every puppeteer, regardless of the later tasks defined by the director. Actors usually rehearse individually with the puppet in front of a mirror to internalize its various positions expressing different emotions, the varied rhythms of its movement, and the scope of its mobility. This becomes a score for later stage work. A good practice is to devote two or three rehearsals to improvisations with the puppets, unrelated to the performance that is yet to be developed. This allows the acting ensemble to recognize the potential of the puppets, which they will later use in their сценic tasks.

Only after these strictly technical exercises—allowing for certain corrections in animation technique—can one proceed to the proper work, that is, the creation of a theatrical performance. It would be advisable for the set designer, alongside the director, to participate in these sessions as well.

In general, we distinguish three basic positions of the puppeteer in operating a theatrical puppet.

In the first position, one operates rod puppets, glove puppets, hand puppets, and one of the techniques of the live-hand puppet. These types belong to the so-called booth (screen-based) techniques.

1. First position: concerns booth techniques in which puppets are operated from below, above the puppeteer’s head. The actor remains invisible to the audience, working behind a screen. From this position, the puppeteer’s view of the puppet is highly limited. Looking from below, they see it only fragmentarily and in a somewhat distorted perspective.

Operating in this position requires not only physical endurance (the actor’s arm is raised throughout the action) but also strong spatial awareness. Typically, the puppet is performed no farther than one meter from the screen. Moving beyond this distance results in the puppet appearing “submerged”—visible only halfway to the audience. The farther from the screen, the more limited the puppet’s visibility becomes due to perspective.

1. Second position: puppets are operated horizontally in front of the actor. In this case, the field of vision is significantly reduced, and the notion of “operating from memory” (intuitively) is fully justified.

An actor working in this position should possess substantial knowledge of the puppet’s animation possibilities (gestures, body arrangement). This is crucial in building a stage character within this technique. Puppets in bunraku, tabletop puppets, those operated in front of the actor, and some types of live-hand puppets are performed in this way.

1. Third position: puppets are operated from above. The actor has a very limited view of the puppet as a whole. Looking from above, they see only the upper part of the head, the arms, and partially the feet.

In such techniques, the puppeteer must demonstrate exceptional sensitivity to the puppet’s weight (especially in achieving natural walking), particularly in string techniques (long-string marionettes), where technical challenges are considerable.

Often, a marionette—especially a classical one with long strings—is operated by several puppeteers, which requires extraordinary precision and synchronization within the team. Here, complete awareness of the puppet’s form and behavior is essential.

Puppetry techniques can be divided into two groups: distance-operated puppets and directly operated (close-contact) puppets.

Distance-operated puppets are primarily marionettes suspended on strings, rods, or a combination of both. This category also includes tabletop puppets operated with long rods (champurits). Puppets operated at a distance from the animator create the impression of moving independently. The distance between the puppeteer and the puppet makes its movement appear autonomous, producing the illusion of the puppet’s “life.” The discreet presence—or complete invisibility—of the puppeteer enhances this illusion, which audiences readily accept. This does not apply, however, to folk marionettes (e.g., Sicilian or Czech), where movement is often broad and grotesque due to the use of short rods and strings.

Directly operated puppets, or those controlled with short rods, include glove puppets, rod puppets, and tabletop puppets. Here, the impulse for movement comes directly from the puppeteer’s hand, resulting in movement that is often more expressive and precise.

Distance or proximity in puppet manipulation significantly affects the possibilities for shaping character behavior. The choice of technique can become a defining feature in constructing both the stage character and the overall concept of the performance.

Since we are discussing puppetry techniques and the fundamental principles of bringing puppets to life, we must also address the basics of animation.

In general understanding, animation means giving life to inanimate matter. Practice, however, demands specificity: what is animation, how should it be understood, and—most importantly—how should it be applied? Drawing on experience and observation, I will outline, from a subjective perspective, the fundamental principles of animation, without referring to specific techniques. Let us consider this phenomenon through movement, rhythm, and reaction.

Movement. The range of a puppet’s movement and its motor capabilities are determined by its construction. Mechanisms enhancing movement, string systems, various rods, and the ways in which elements are connected all influence how the puppet moves in stage space. This applies to both distance and close-contact techniques. In the case of simple animated objects, without additional technical enhancements, their shape itself suggests or determines movement. The way objects move can often be surprising and reflects the animator’s imagination, while their utilitarian functions are generally ignored.

The first phase of animation involves learning movement (walking) and performing the simplest actions and gestures. These activities belong to the technical domain, where the puppet’s motor function is the key element.

This is the “zero phase,” relating to movement. It also involves the ability to extract the individual, unique movement of each puppet or object. This is the first crucial step in building the “personality” of an artificial character—what might be called the “nerve” of animation.

Rhythm. Rhythm gives emotional character to the puppet’s behavior. Through rhythm—associated with pulse (accelerated or slowed)—the audience perceives the puppet’s emotional state: nervousness, curiosity, contemplation. Acting in varying rhythms subconsciously refers to human reflexes and behaviors, though it remains an imitation functioning within an artificial, often grotesque dimension. This resemblance allows the audience to follow and understand the puppet character.

An almost integral element of rhythm is the pause, which allows a phase of action or behavior to resonate and gain meaning. A pause acts as a punctuation mark, closing a sequence of micro-events and enabling new actions to begin. It enhances the clarity of stage communication.

Reaction is the third foundational element of animation. For a reaction to occur, there must first be an external impulse that triggers it. A fundamental principle applies here: the puppet, like a mime actor, does not “experience” emotions but shows them—externalizing them through movement. As a visual form (with a mask-like face), it lacks mimetic expression.

The biomechanics model of Meyerhold, in which emotions are expressed primarily through physical reactions, aligns closely with this principle: the puppet always responds through movement to any stimulus, regardless of its nature.

With an understanding of movement, rhythm, and reaction, one can begin work on voice, which often presents the greatest challenge in integrating puppet and actor. This is a crucial element in creating a complete stage character.

Too often, the audience has the impression that the puppet’s voice comes from offstage, as if from outside it—this is usually a technical error. In such cases, the puppet seems to move in rhythm with the actor’s speech, losing its subjectivity. A key principle must be observed: the puppet should first react with movement, and only then with voice.

The sequence is as follows: stimulus → reaction (recognition, emotional action, word). The spoken word should align with the accompanying emotional movement or gesture.

This operates for two reasons. First, the puppet’s movement naturally draws the audience’s attention to it—especially important in dialogue between two puppets. A useful scheme: character X reacts to character Y’s words with movement, generating emotion, which leads to speech, prompting a reaction from Y. This reflects the acting principle: “react before you speak.”

Second, in puppetry, emotions translate into movement (fear, curiosity, amusement), which shapes action and gives meaning to words.

In conclusion: first movement, then word—not the reverse. This seemingly minor detail determines whether the puppet “speaks” or whether speech is merely delivered through it. Synchronizing the actor’s voice with the puppet’s action is a crucial craft issue. This is why puppetry workshops devote significant attention to voice work.

The French actor and puppeteer Alain Recoing addresses this as follows:

When interpreting text, we use the technique of “phrasing.” Each sequence of text—one word, three words, a sentence, or several movements—is expressed through a single perfect movement, whose timing must be precisely synchronized with the spoken sequence. These schematic movements must be economical. One should not phrase every syllable![11]

The observations above, drawn both from watching the work of various puppet theatre artists and from my own practical experience, may, I believe, serve as an elementary basis for working with a puppeteer, especially for a beginning director or for amateur enthusiasts of puppet theatre. A potential puppet theatre director, apart from visual sensitivity and a sense of space, should have at least a basic knowledge of the potential of the instrument they intend to use: the theatrical puppet. The same applies to the set designer, who should additionally possess imagination and a sense of contemporary form.

It depends on them—the director and the set designer—and on their will, whether they choose to make use of the expressive means of puppet theatre or whether they dispense with any visual forms altogether. The actors can only submit to their choices.

The Theatrical Puppet

Our creations will be, as it were, provisional, made for one occasion only.
Often, for a single gesture, for a single word, we undertake the effort of bringing them to life for that one moment.[12]
Bruno Schulz

The Puppet

Every puppet is a sculptural form, but in the context of contemporary art, not every puppet is perceived as a work of art. Examples include toys or collectible dolls. Their creator is regarded more as a gifted craftsman than as an artist. Through its function, the puppet and its figurative, three-dimensional visual form are perceived as a utilitarian or aesthetic object, in contrast to sculpture, which is an artistic creation. A puppet is created for play; a work of art for contemplation.

According to Yuri Lotman, literary theorist, an essential factor in the perception of these two three-dimensional forms—sculpture and puppet—is the audience.

There are two kinds of audience: the “adult” on the one hand, and the “childlike,” “folk,” or “archaic” on the other. […] In the first case, we are dealing with the reception of information; in the second, with its production through play. […] The statue belongs to the first situation, the puppet to the second. A statue is to be looked at; a puppet must necessarily be touched, turned over in one’s hands. A statue contains within itself that elevated world of art which the viewer is unable to create independently. A puppet requires not the contemplation of someone else’s thought, but play.[13]

However, the most important feature and function of the puppet is the stimulation of the imagination of those who play with it. In fact, only in this context does the puppet as a toy fulfill its basic role in the emotional and cultural development of a child.

The statue is an intermediary, transmitting someone else’s creativity to us; the puppet is a stimulant, provoking us to creativity. The statue requires seriousness; the puppet requires play. This particular nature of the puppet is connected with the fact that, entering the world of adults, it carries with it memories of the world of childhood, folklore, mythology, and play. This makes the puppet not an accidental but an essential component of any mature “adult” civilization.[14]

As Radosław Muniak, philosopher, observes, “the toy is a person’s first encounter with the world of art.”[15]

In general understanding, the puppet is perceived primarily as a mass-produced object intended to fulfill a specific social task: education through play. It may, however, serve other functions and be more than just a toy.

In contemporary art, visual artists have used the puppet as an object or ready-made in various assemblages, as in the work of Hans Bellmer, Władysław Hasior, or Marek Piasecki. In theatre, it often appeared, among others, in the productions of Józef Szajna. It has thus become a substitute for the actor in animated film and in theatre. It is also used as an important element in the advertising industry.

The Theatrical Puppet

What do we understand by the term “theatrical puppet”? What conditions or qualities should our artefact meet in order to be described as a theatrical puppet? For many puppeteers, this concept is not limited to a specially designed figure, but may also refer to other objects that can fulfill the function of a stage character. For many, “to be a puppet” means “to be material transformed into a stage character.”[16]

All material things, visual forms, or ready-made objects used in a performance as puppets for specific actions are signs of a stage character; they are theatrical puppets in all their variants. Their artistic meaning is expressed through stage action carried out by the actor-animator. Puppets take various shapes, from figurative forms to abstract ones. This latter category may also include objects without utilitarian functions, such as pieces of roots found on a beach. Not every object can be a potential “candidate” for a stage character. Usually, this is determined by visual qualities such as shape, material, texture, colour, and so on. The object should possess something that stimulates the imagination, something that carries a story within it, such as traces of use, and provokes a whole sphere of associations.

Every theatrical puppet has an individual range of movement possibilities encoded within it, resulting from its construction and shape. This forms the individual qualities of the various types of theatrical puppets.

Yuri Lotman describes the phenomenon of the theatrical puppet in an intriguing way:

Therefore, if a live actor plays a human being, then the puppet on stage plays the actor. It becomes a representation of representation. This poetics of doubleness exposes convention and makes the very language of art itself the object of representation. […] Puppet theatre exposes theatricality within theatre.[17]

Zenobiusz Strzelecki sees in puppet theatre, above all, the undeniable artistic potential of theatre:

Puppet theatre may be considered the most visual, composed, artistic kind of theatre, because in principle it does not feature an authentic human being with naturalistic movement, but a puppet created by an artist, synthetically defining the character through its form, gesture, and movement. We are therefore dealing here with a kind of artistic transposition replacing the authentic—and this is the condition of every art, especially the visual arts.[18]

By analogy with actor-based theatre, the theatrical puppet is generally defined by theatre theorists as a substitute for the theatrical actor: instead of an actor, a puppet appears on stage. Functioning on stage, the puppet has tasks similar to those of a dramatic actor. These are, however, two distinct stage realities. The puppet belongs to the sphere of illusion; the actor to the sphere of reality. It is worth emphasizing that the theatrical puppet is generally treated—especially by visual artists—as an autonomous work of art, containing the individual stylistic qualities of a particular artist, as well as aesthetic and cognitive values. “Puppets are sculptures moved by an actor. They are works of art, so they must provoke questions and awaken emotions.”[19]

From the actor’s point of view, the theatrical puppet cannot be an ersatz stage character, and it is generally not perceived as such by puppeteers. It is a means of theatrical expression that represents only and exclusively the stage character, which acts through the actor’s will. In theatrical practice, it is essential that this means of expression should not signify something that can easily be exchanged or replaced by a human being without consequences for the dramaturgical coherence of the performance and the clarity of the adopted convention.

At this point, it is worth addressing a fairly common view among some puppet theatre creators concerning the specific relationships between actor and puppet in contemporary theatre. This view refers to the interplay between actor and puppet in visible animation.

The actor, however, often remains completely invisible to the audience, and then their facial expression and the expression of the whole body strengthen the expressiveness of the puppet. These two signs—the actor and the puppet—are perceived together as the sign of a given character, and there is no question here of any dissonance or of depriving the puppet of its illusionary quality.[20]

The above point of view concerns a very important, though seemingly minor, issue: can the actor, through their own expression, in some way enrich the puppet-sculpture “spiritually” or otherwise “complete” its expressiveness? I do not think so. If the actor, in their stage actions with the puppet, too insistently emphasizes their own presence, this causes a duality in the reception of the character, introducing chaos and uncertainty as to who is who. Is the puppet the main carrier of the performance’s meaning, or is the human being? Through facial expression and bodily expressiveness, the actor primarily shifts the audience’s attention from the puppet to themselves. In this confrontation, the puppet has no chance. It loses its already conventional subjectivity and becomes an object or merely a prop in the actor’s hands. In this arrangement, the actor remains themselves—that is, a visible stage figure separate from the puppet. The legitimacy of the actor’s use of the puppet should therefore be resolved. And this decision always belongs to the director. Perhaps restraint in exposing oneself would be advisable—the restraint of the ningyō jōruri master—which would mean transferring all one’s “acting” expression onto the puppet, thus justifying its use.

Identification between actor and puppet seems a more natural attitude, one that supports their equal coexistence within the performance.

It is important to have an emotional relationship with the puppet character being created and with the dramatic events concerning it. Do not act through yourself; act through the puppet. If you reach for it, give it a voice—or give it up.

In conclusion, the theatrical puppet needs neither “support” nor “replacement” in its stage actions, but rather the conscious and honest co-participation of the director and the puppeteer in creating its subjectivity.