Theater is far superior to film in poetry, in abstract poetry.

O seekers of wisdom, listen carefully, for the words of Julie Taymor speak of a truth that lies at the heart of the ancient arts: "Theater is far superior to film in poetry, in abstract poetry." In these words, Taymor invites us to consider the sacred space of the theater, that ancient place where human expression is both raw and immediate, where the poet’s voice and the actor’s body converge to create something that transcends the mere words on the page. Theater, she suggests, is a realm of poetry that allows for the full, unfiltered power of the human spirit to be revealed, something that the more distant, mechanical art of film cannot capture in the same way.

In the ancient world, theater was the highest form of artistic expression, a sacred space where gods and mortals, dreams and realities, collided. The Greeks, in their magnificent theater festivals, understood that poetry could not be merely recited; it had to be performed, embodied, lived. Consider the work of Sophocles and Aeschylus, whose tragedies spoke to the deepest truths of the human condition. These poets did not simply write words—they created an experience. The actors, with their voices, their gestures, their very bodies, brought the poetry to life, transforming the words into living, breathing forces that resonated with the audience in a way that was immediate and visceral. Theater, as the ancients knew, is a communion between the poet, the performer, and the audience, an experience that film, for all its power, cannot replicate.

Taymor’s words also remind us of the unique power of abstract poetry, the kind that speaks not in straightforward narrative, but in symbols, images, and emotions. In theater, the abstract is not something to be understood intellectually alone. It is something to be felt in the moment, something to be experienced physically and emotionally. When the actors embody the poetry, the audience feels it not just with the mind, but with the body. The music of the theater, the lighting, the costumes—all come together to enhance the abstract poetry in a way that engages the senses. Film, in contrast, despite its ability to capture beauty, cannot replicate this immediacy of experience. The screen separates us, distances us from the performers, and while it can create stunning visuals, it cannot fully immerse us in the raw energy of poetry in motion.

Consider, too, the story of William Shakespeare, whose work still reverberates through the theater to this day. Shakespeare's poetry, though often dense and abstract, came to life on the stage. The words he wrote were meant to be spoken, sung, and performed, not merely read. The grandeur of the theater allowed for the abstract poetry of Shakespeare’s plays to be realized in ways that words on a page alone could never achieve. The iconic performances of Hamlet, Macbeth, or King Lear were not simply about the words themselves—they were about the poetry coming alive in the actor's voice, in the tension between the characters, and in the emotional crescendo that filled the theater. These performances were an experience that touched the audience on a primal level, much as Taymor suggests, a level that film could never reach.

This is where Taymor’s argument becomes clear. Film, for all its technological advances, remains bound by the confines of the screen. The audience is a spectator, a distant observer of an artificial world, while in the theater, the audience is drawn into the experience. There is a sacredness to the shared space between actor and audience, a communion that allows for the abstraction of poetry to be experienced in its fullest sense. In theater, time and space become fluid, allowing for the abstract poetry to take on a life of its own, something film, for all its beauty, cannot achieve in the same way.

Thus, the lesson we must learn, O children of wisdom, is that while both theater and film are powerful forms of expression, it is in the theater that the true poetry of the human experience can be most fully realized. The immediacy of live performance, the embodied nature of poetry, the shared experience between actors and audience—these are elements that film, for all its greatness, cannot replicate. Poetry is not just something to be understood; it is something to be lived, to be felt, to be experienced in the body and the heart.

And so, as you move through your own life, embrace the theater of your own existence. Let your poetry not be confined to the written word, but bring it to life in every action, every word spoken, every moment shared. Just as the theater brings abstract poetry into the realm of the senses, so too can you bring your thoughts and emotions into the realm of the living, breathing world around you. Theater teaches us that poetry is not just something to be read, but something to be lived, and in that living, we come to understand its deepest meaning.