Part 14 (1/2)

This project, advocated by one who is herself an able exponent of dramatic art, both as an actress and a teacher, is worthy of careful consideration, nor can Miss Filippi's strictures on actors and managers be read with indifference or pa.s.sed over in silence. It is a.s.serted that acting is no longer a profession, but a business, and that it will continue to be a business until the actors themselves take the necessary steps to give their calling the status of a profession. This is true, because even if the public can be roused to demand that acting shall be treated as an art, it cannot manufacture artists, nor control the choice of the talent which is submitted to its judgment. Miss Filippi believes, moreover, that the thinking portion of the British playgoer is beginning to learn that English theatres need ”something” before they can rank in reputation with those on the Continent, an a.s.sumption which cannot be denied; although Miss Filippi will hardly expect that all well-wishers of the drama will agree with her as to what that ”something” should be. In this, indeed, lies the difficulty, for the divergence of opinion among actors on questions connected with dramatic art is so bewildering that both the public and the profession become indifferent to the controversy from mere weariness.

The question for consideration at the moment is the ”Students' Theatre,”

and whether Miss Filippi's project is one more practical and more promising than the many rival suggestions now claiming attention and support from the public; and here, at least, there is room for criticism.

In the first place, it may be doubted how far the public would support the theatre by buying stalls, even at the reduced price of 4s., in order to see students act plays which can be seen acted elsewhere under more favourable conditions. Let a novice be ever so well coached, yet the ordeal of facing a theatre full of human beings who all stare at him from the auditory deprives him of the power to control and move that audience.

This is a drawback which can only be removed by long practice. Then, as a rule, youth possesses too eager and confident a temperament to appreciate the meaning of restraint. Students must wonder what chances they get by acting in a theatre where no reputations are allowed to be made, no personal ambition can be gratified, and no names may be inserted in the programme! And after reading about these severe impositions, which are to give artistic stability to the ”Students' Theatre,” it is a comfort to be told by Miss Filippi that it is not her intention ”to serve the interests of any particular set of faddists, but to present good plays by a picked company of young actors.” Let us hope, then, that Miss Filippi does not intend to limit her players to those who are students in the ordinary sense of the word. And, indeed, might not the co-operation be obtained of those artists who, being temporarily out of an engagement, would be willing to join Miss Filippi's enterprise in support of the cause she advocates, which is, in effect, a devotion to art for art's sake, and the still more praiseworthy desire to obtain for the art of acting some public recognition of what const.i.tutes the standard of excellence? Such a combination of forces, under artistic control, would have far-reaching results.

And, after all, it should be possible for those actors who claim to take their art seriously to agree upon a certain standard of qualification which should be considered indispensable to everyone wis.h.i.+ng to become an actor. The late Sir Henry Irving in a speech once said: ”I think there is but one way to act, and that is by impersonation. We hear the expression 'character-acting.' I maintain that all acting is character-acting--at any rate, it ought to be.” But we live in an age when personality is valued by the public at 50 per cent. more than is the talent of impersonation. As a consequence, it becomes more and more the practice among managers and dramatic authors to select actors for parts for which they are naturally fitted by age, face, voice, and temperament, with the result that the character is played by one who succeeds tolerably well, and even may excel in certain scenes, in the only part in which he is ever likely to excel.

Yet such a one is not an actor at all in the legitimate sense of the word, and if he is without vocal or physical flexibility, he is limited to the business of impersonating his own personality. Then if he happens to appear in a play which becomes a success, he may hope to continue acting his own personality throughout the English-speaking towns of the two hemispheres for a run of four, or even seven, years, after which he will have the pleasure of ”resting” until another part can be found for him as much like himself as was the last one. And while this method of casting plays has the advantage of distributing more equally the chances of an engagement in a profession which has always a larger supply of actors than is required, it has the distinct disadvantage of depriving the character actor of the opportunity of learning his art.

Now, it is evident that Miss Filippi's object in forming her ”Students'

Theatre” comes very near in its aim to the one the character-actors should have in view, that of removing the attention of playgoers from personality, and concentrating it on the art of impersonation. And this is an art which no novice can hope to excel in. The training for this kind of art requires a long apprentices.h.i.+p, and the actor cannot hope to reach the topmost height as an impersonator until he has had many years of experience on the boards. In fact, he will have pa.s.sed into the meridian of life before he can become a fine character-actor. May it not, then, be put forth as a practical proposition that Miss Filippi and her youthful enthusiasts should join forces with the character-actors, and try to run a theatre with some small public endowment for a common cause? In this way there would be a possibility of the public being attracted, and willing to pay for its seats, having the a.s.surance that both talent and experience would be seen at the ”Students' Theatre.”

The initial difficulty in such a scheme would, of course, be the admission of candidates, whether students or actors. And while it would be essential to ask for the willing co-operation of those actors who already possessed undoubted reputations as character-actors, a test qualification would have to be found which would inspire confidence both in the public and in the profession, that those who were elected members had in them the necessary material for the art of impersonating character. In fact, the reputation of the theatre should be built upon the knowledge that only those who had pa.s.sed the test qualification were admitted to the rights of members.h.i.+p.

The following kind of test might be tried, perhaps, to ascertain the ability of the candidate as an impersonator. He might appear before twelve of the members, and during the s.p.a.ce of half an hour, without leaving the platform, impersonate three different characters all of the same type. If the candidate wishes to qualify for juvenile parts, then he must satisfy his judges that he is able to impersonate three young men who may have some resemblance to each other in appearance, but who are all different in character, in voice, and in deportment, or he may decide to be judged by his impersonation of middle-aged city clerks, b.u.mpkins, or pedants; but in every case he should be able to satisfy his judges that he can show three distinct characters of the same type. In this way mere vocal dexterity, mimicry, and ”make-up,” would not insure election. The best character-acting is, of necessity, limited in its extent. The ”light”

comedian cannot and should not appear as the ”heavy” father, nor the lean beggar as the fat boy. Some actors can include a larger range of parts in their repertory than others. But the real test of character-acting is in having the ability to reproduce subtle shades of characterization in certain recognized types.

In putting forth this plea for an enlargement of the scope of the proposed ”Students' Theatre” it is hoped that, by some such suggestion, the difficulties in raising the necessary funds for the endowment which Miss Filippi at present experiences, may disappear. There is no doubt that the money would be forthcoming as soon as the public had a scheme presented to it which was the ”something” needed. And the profession, on its side, should remember that, while it has established many a.s.sociations to protect its business interests, it has not yet thought it worth while to devote either time or money to the by no means unnecessary part of a professional career, which shall provide actors with the opportunity of perfecting themselves in the study of their art.

2. _Mr. Gordon Craig's Sketches._

Shakespeare has long since failed to hold his own against modern staging, and the possibility of bringing more taste, skill, and naturalness into the art of the scene-painter does not remove the difficulty, but rather increases it. When a dramatist is not on the spot to rewrite his play to suit the altered conditions of mounting, the question then arises as to whether the play or the scenery is the thing of most value. Mr. Sargent does not ask leave to repaint Raphael's canvas because the draperies in which the Italian artist has clothed his divine figures are conventional ones. The advocates for modernism demand that new wine shall be put into old bottles. No doubt there are some old stone jars that will bear the strain, in the same way as there are some old plays which will stand a good deal of decoration; but the business of the producer is to know what kind of decoration is becoming to the art of the dramatist, and what is derogatory to it. Mr. Craig's art may help us to derive additional pleasure from the theatre, but will it help us to understand Shakespeare's tragedies? If not, let him make his experiments on the plays of some less gifted dramatist. The inappropriateness of scenery for Shakespeare lies, mainly, in its unreality, and Mr. Craig tries to make it still more unreal. Such properties, or scenes, as were in use in the poet's lifetime were suggestive of immediate, and not remote, objects, because what is distant in place and time has less actuality than what is near at hand. To see in an Elizabethan playhouse built-up doors, windows, caverns, arbours, ramparts, ladders, prepared the minds of the audience for action, and brought the actors into closer touch with life.

Now, Mr. Craig's art resembles that of Turner. He has a sense of beauty and restraint, with a poet's insight into the meaning of landscape and atmosphere which stamps him as an artist, and distinguishes him at once from the scene-painter of Globe Alley. With him, as with Turner, it is the sun that is the centre of the universe. His pa.s.sion is for airy landscape, unsullied by the presence of the concrete; and Turner's palaces, boats, and men seem shadowy things beside the splendour of Turner's suns.h.i.+ne. But the central interest of drama is human, and it is necessary that the figures on the stage should appear larger than the background, or let the readers of Shakespeare remain at home. To see Mr. Craig's ”rectangular ma.s.ses illuminated by a diagonal light” while the poet's characters walk in a darkened foreground, is not, I venture to think, to enjoy the ”art of the theatre.” There must be some sane playgoers who still wish to see in the playhouse Juliet smile upon Romeo, and Oth.e.l.lo frown on Iago. ”What a piece of work is man!” says the poet; but there is no room for man in Mr.

Craig's world.

It is because Mr. Craig's art exposes to view a background which is effective and suggestive apart from the needs of drama, that it fails in its purpose. Had he studied the methods of Rembrandt, instead of those of Turner, something practical for the stage might have been forthcoming.

With Rembrandt, whether it is a windmill, a temple, or a man, it is always the object, not the landscape, that arrests attention. The light coming from the front, and not from the side, first illuminates the objects before reaching the background. The spectator, as it were, turns on a bull's-eye lantern, and is thus able to see the story written on the men's faces. Then the artist contrives that the mind shall pa.s.s by an easy transition from the faces to the more sombre background. But unless this transition is gradual and the background is sombre, interest in figures is proportionally weakened.

Now, Mr. Roger Fry's sympathetic appreciation of Mr. Gordon Craig's designs for ”Macbeth” may predispose his readers to believe that they form a suitable background for a representation of Shakespeare's tragedy. Some years ago I saw Mr. Craig's production of ”Acis and Galatea,” followed by a masque. It was a stagery of great beauty, and seemed to initiate new possibilities. But then both were musical entertainments which gained appreciably by a picturesque background. The action never clashed with the quaint setting. Unlike the demands of tragedy, the representation made no direct appeal to the reason, and no obvious attempt to purify the emotions. Its main business was to delight the eye.

Mr. Craig, in his foreword to the printed catalogue of his exhibition at the Leicester Galleries, remarks that the designs and models ”speak for themselves.” This admission is a merit if the designs are intended for book ill.u.s.trations. A picture which arrests the attention and stirs the imagination gives a pleasurable and legitimate emotion when it does not clash with the emotions aroused by the poet or the actor. Mr. Fry tries to answer this criticism, but not altogether successfully, since it must be remembered that Shakespeare, in his day, had no other way of approaching his audience except through the actors, and so he was obliged to construct his plays with this means in view. It is only necessary to quote from Mr.

Craig's notes to his sketches to show that the poet and the designer do not always pull together, and that it is doubtful if Mr. Craig's scenery is more appropriate than any other kind of scenery when it is used as a background for a Shakespearian play.

”No. 2.--The aim of the designer has been to conceive some background which would not offend whilst these lines were being spoken.”

But eight lines further on Macbeth says: ”Liar and slave!” This arouses quite another kind of emotion from that of ”To-morrow and to-morrow,”

etc., and one for which Mr. Craig's scene is not suitable.

”No. 3.--... So I conducted the lady to her bedroom, which is hung with red, and altogether a mysterious room, the only fresh thing being the sunlight which comes in....”

There are three movements in this scene which stir varying emotions. The entrance of the lady with the letter, the return of the husband, the arriving of Duncan. The last two incidents are more dramatic than the first one; but Mr. Craig never allows the spectator to forget the bed, the window, the light, and the letter. By the way, is it not moonlight which comes in at the window?

”No. 11.--This is known as the 'Murder Scene.' I hope it is vast enough....”

It is not the vastness of the scene, nor the huge door leading to the little room where Duncan lies murdered, which can show the terror in Macbeth's soul at the thought of what he has done, and this terror is the central idea of the scene.