Part 18 (1/2)

Marmontel had repeatedly urged upon the _tragedienne_ the advisability of aiming at greater simplicity, pointing out that her acting was ”too splendid, too impetuous,” and was wanting in suppleness and truth. ”You possess,” said he, ”every means of excelling in your art, and yet, great as you are, you might easily rise above yourself, purely by using more temperately those powers of which you are so prodigal. You cite to me your own brilliant successes and those which you have gained for me; you cite the opinion and the advice of your friends; you cite the opinion of M. de Voltaire, who himself recites his lines with emphasis, and who pretends that declamation requires the same pomp as style; while I, in return, can only urge an irresistible feeling that declamation, like style, may be dignified, majestic, tragic, and yet simple; that tones, in order to be animated and deeply affecting, require gradations, shades, unforeseen and sudden transitions, which they can never have when strained and laboured.”

Mlle. Clairon laughingly replied that she saw plainly that he would never let her alone until she had adopted a tone and manner more suited to comedy than to tragedy. To which Marmontel rejoined that this she could never do, since her voice, her look, her p.r.o.nunciation, her gestures, her att.i.tudes, were all instinctively dignified and majestic, and that, if she would but consent to be natural, her tragic powers could not fail to be enhanced.

For a long while, the actress refused to be persuaded; but, finally, in 1752, after Marmontel had, for some time, ceased to urge her, she resolved to follow his counsels. Judging it best to make her first essays in the new method before a public less critical and less conservative than that of Paris, she obtained permission to visit Bordeaux, where, in addition, she would have the advantage of performing in a theatre more suited to the style she proposed to adopt than the large _salle_ of the Comedie-Francaise. On her first evening at Bordeaux, she appeared as Phedre, and played the part in the way she had always been accustomed to perform it in Paris, that is to say, with much extravagance of tone and gesture. She was, of course, loudly applauded.

The next day, she appeared as Agrippine, and played the character from beginning to end in conformity with the ideas which she had recently adopted.

”This simple, easy, and natural style of acting,” she tells us, ”at first surprised them. An accelerated mode of utterance at the end of each couplet, and a regular gradation of vehemence had been usually the signals for applause; they knew that it had only been usual to applaud such pa.s.sages; and, as I did not resort to the style to which they had become accustomed, I was not applauded.” As the play proceeded, however, the att.i.tude of the audience underwent a change; murmurs of ”_Mais cela est beau! Cela est beau!_” began to make themselves heard; and, when the curtain fell, the actress received a perfect ovation.

”After this,” she continues, ”I represented thirty-two of my different characters, and always in my newly-adopted style. Ariane was of the number, and the authors of the _Encyclopedie_, under the subject _Declamation_, have been kind enough to transmit to posterity the very marked and flattering homage which I received. However, being still fearful, and doubting the judgment of the public, as well as my own, I determined to perform Phedre as I had played it at first, and I saw, to my delight, that they were dissatisfied with it. I had courage enough to say that it was an experiment which I had believed it to be my duty to make, and that I would play the same character differently, if they would grant me the favour of a third performance. I obtained permission, adopted the style which was the result of my studies as completely as I could, and every one agreed that there was no comparison.”

Encouraged by the success which had attended her experiments at Bordeaux, Mlle. Clairon forthwith determined to try the effect of the new method upon Paris and Versailles.

One day, when she was to play Roxane in the little theatre at Versailles, Marmontel, happening to come to her dressing-room, was surprised to find her attired like a sultana, without _panier_, her arms half-bare, and, in short, in correct Oriental costume. He complimented her upon her appearance, upon which she told him of her experience at Bordeaux, adding: ”I am going to try it again in this small theatre.

Come and hear me, and if it be as successful here, adieu to the old declamation!”

The result, Marmontel tells us, exceeded their most sanguine antic.i.p.ations. ”It was no longer the actress, but Roxane herself, who was seen and heard.” The aristocratic audience were delighted, and applauded her warmly. After the play, her friend went to congratulate her upon her success. ”Ah!” said she, ”don't you see that I am undone?

In all my characters the costume must now be observed; the truth of dress must be conjoined with that of acting. All my costly theatrical wardrobe must from this moment be changed; I lose clothes to the value of 10,000 crowns; but the sacrifice is made. You shall see me within a week perform electre as naturally as I have just played Roxane.”

She was as good as her word. It was the _electre_ of Crebillon. ”In place of the ridiculous _panier_ and wide mourning gown which she had been accustomed to wear,” says Marmontel, ”she appeared in the simple dress of a slave, with her hair dishevelled, and long chains upon her arms. She was admirable, and, some time afterwards, she was still more sublime in the _electre_ of Voltaire. Voltaire had made her recite this part with an unvaried and doleful monotony; but, when spoken naturally, it acquired a beauty unknown to himself. On hearing it acted at his theatre at Ferney, where she went to visit him, he exclaimed, bathed in tears and transported with admiration, 'It is not I who am the author of that--it is herself; she has created the part.' And, indeed, the infinity of shades which she introduced, and the manner in which she expressed the pa.s.sions, rendered it perhaps, of all others, that in which she was the most astonis.h.i.+ng.”[180]

Paris, as well as Versailles, was quick to recognise in this change the genuine tragic tone, and the enormously increased appearance of probability which theatrical performances derive from a due observation of costume. Thus, from one reform sprang another, and, warmly supported by the celebrated actor Lekain,[181] who was keenly alive to the absurdity of dressing the characters of ancient Greece and Rome in a half-modern fas.h.i.+on, Mlle. Clairon was able to effect a veritable revolution. Henceforth, the actors were forced to abandon their _tonnelets_, their fringed gloves, their voluminous periwigs, their plumed hats, and all the rest of the trappings which one sees in Liotard's engraving of Watteau's picture, _Les Comediens Francais_; and this new desire for truth ere long extended to the scenery and all the accessories.

Voltaire's _Orphelin de la Chine_, produced on August 20, 1754, where, in the part of Idame, Mlle. Clairon secured one of her most brilliant triumphs,[182] was the first play in which they ventured to act on their ideas. ”On returning from Fontainebleau,” writes Colle, ”this tragedy has been revived, and has had nine representations. I omitted to mention that the players have been put to some expense. They have had a scene painted, or, to speak more correctly, a palace, in the Chinese fas.h.i.+on; they have also observed the costumes of the country in their dress. The women wore Chinese gowns, were without _paniers_ and ruffles, and had their arms bare. Clairon even affected foreign gesticulations, placing frequently one hand or both on her hips; holding for some moments her clenched fist to her forehead, and so forth. The men, according to the characters they represented, were attired as Tartars or Chinamen.[183]

The effect was excellent.”[184]

Mlle. Clairon was not content with restoring to the figures of the past their correct costume; she sought to make them live again in all the distinctiveness of their times, their countries, and their nationality.

To be a great tragic actor or actress, it was not enough, in her opinion, to have a sonorous voice, a majestic presence, a dignified carriage, enthusiasm, and dramatic intelligence; it was necessary for the player ”to transport himself into the times and the places where the characters which he was representing had lived,” to recover, in fact, a little of the spirit of Rome, Sparta, or Athens. ”Not only,” says she, in her _Memoires_, ”ought one to acquaint oneself with the history of all the peoples of the world, but to investigate it thoroughly; to render oneself familiar with it, even in the minutest details; to adapt to each role the peculiarities which the nation to which the character belonged ought to exhibit.”

Such a result could, of course, only be attained by constant study; and she herself was an indefatigable student of historical works and the cla.s.sics, as well as of statues, monuments, and portraits; and unsparing in her condemnation of those members of her profession who were too indolent or too careless to follow her example. Grimm relates an imaginary conversation between Mlle. Clairon and a young actor, which Mme. d'epinay declared that she had dreamed, and which, no doubt, correctly ill.u.s.trates the _tragedienne's_ views on this subject.

The young actor has come to enlist Mlle. Clairon's good offices to secure him a _debut_ at the Comedie-Francaise, and the following conversation takes place:--

”Have you yet appeared at any theatre?”

”No, Mademoiselle.”

”Well! no matter; your face interests me. Be seated, Monsieur, and let us talk.... Ah! go and fetch me my work-basket from yonder console, at the end of the room, so that I may see you walk, if you please--over there, near that j.a.panese ornament.... Monsieur, I thank you. That is satisfactory; your movements are easy; you have no stiffness, nor ungainliness; but you have no distinction. Have you never had occasion to observe men of quality in society? What, Monsieur, are the characters in which you are most proficient, and which you propose that I should listen to?”

”Mademoiselle, that of Nero in _Britannicus_.”

”Is that the only one? Well, Monsieur, before I listen to you, have the kindness to tell me who Nero was.”

”Mademoiselle, he was an emperor who lived at Rome.”

”That he lived at Rome is correct. But was he a Roman emperor, or did he reside at Rome for pleasure? How did he rise to be emperor? What were his claims, his birth, his parents, his education, his character, his inclinations, his virtues, his vices?”

”Mademoiselle, the role of Nero answers some of your questions, but not all.”