Theatre for Shakespeare 9781442615175

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THEATRE FOR SHAKESPEARE In his new book (containing the Alexander Lectures for 1954-55), Mr. Harbage, distinguished critic and scholar, advocates a movement to give Shakespeare back to the audiences. He complains that, in greater or less degree, Shakespearean audiences are in constant danger of being bored, or more precisely of being "reverently unreceptive," of being gratified that they have come to the play and gratified that they then may go. In his opinion there is no theatre in the world today that can present Shakespeare with full adequacy. Mr. Harbage feels that Shakespearean production is at present lacking in a sense of direction, and needs some form of exemplary leadership. Counsels of perfection are required. There should be at least one company to set a standard, one not dependent upon immediate financial success, and one committed only to realizing artistic ideals worthy of the plays. The wholesome tendency to return to the original methods of production for guidance would be more effectual if a distinction were made between what is still applicable in those original methods and what is not. The author's argument is provocative and amusing throughout; it begins with detailed complaints and ends with detailed remedies. A generous amount of information about Elizabethan precedents and traditions is included. It is a book to hearten playgoers, stimulate young actors, lead theatrical executives to reconsider methods of management, and encourage benefactors to open their wallets. ALFRED HARBAGE has published numerous books which have become cornerstones in Shakespearean scholarship: Annals of English Drama, 975-1700; Shakespeare's Audience; As They Liked It; and Shakespeare and the Rival Traditions. He has prepared new editions of The Tempest and A5 You Like it, is General Editor of the American Pelican Shakespeare, has published articles in learned journals, and has held editorial and advisory posts.

THE ALEXANDE R LECTURESHI P THE ALEXANDE R LECTURESHI P wa s founde d i n honou r o f Professor W . J. Alexander , who held the Chai r o f English at University Colleg e fro m 1889 to 1926 . Each year the Lecture ship brings to the University a distinguished scholar or critic to give a cours e o f lecture s o n a subjec t relate d t o Englis h Literature.

THEATRE FO R SHAKESPEARE

Alfred Harbag e UNIVERSITY O F TORONT O PRES S

COPYRIGHT © , CANADA , 1955 , B Y UNIVERSIT Y O P TORONTO PRES S AN D PRINTE D I N CANADA . LONDON : GEOFFREY CUMBERLEGE , OXFOR D UNIVERSIT Y PRES S

TYPOGRAPHY AND DECORATIONS BY ANTJB LINGNER

THE ALEXANDE R LECTURE S (Unless otherwise indicated th e lectures have bee n published b y th e Universit y o f Toront o Press )

1929-30 L . F . CAZAMIAN : Parallelis m in th e recen t develop ment of English and French literature These lectures were included i n the author's Criticism in the Making (Macmillan , 1929) 1930-31 H . W . GARROD : The Study of Poetry (Clarendon , 1936) 1931-32 IRVIN G BABBITT : Wordswort h an d moder n poetr y Included a s "The Primitivis m o f Wordsworth" i n th e author's On Being Creative (Houghton, 1932) 1932-33 W

. A . CRAIGIE : The Northern Element in English Literature (1933 )

1933-34 H.J.C . GRIERSON: Sir Walter Scot t Included in Sir Walter Scott, Bart. (Constable, 1938) 1934-35 G . G . SEDGEWICK : Of Irony, Especially in Drama (1934, 1948) 1935-36 E . E . STOLL : Shakespeare's Young Lovers (Oxford , 1937) 1936-37 F . B . SNYDER : Robert Burns, His Personality, His Reputation, and His Art (1936 ) 1937-38 D . NICHO L SMITH : Some Observations on EighteenthCentury Poetry (1937) 1938-39 CARLETO N W. STANLEY : Matthew Arnold (1938 ) 1939-40 J . DOUGLA S N . BUSH : The Renaissance and English Humanism (1939 )

vi 1940-41 N o lectures given 1941-42 H . J. DAVIS : Stella, a Gentlewoman of the Eighteenth Century (Macmillan , 1942) 1942-43 H . GRANVILLE-BARKER : Coriolanu s Included i n th e author' s Prefaces to Shakespeare: Vol. II (Princeton, 1947 ) 1943-44 F . P. WILSON : Elizabethan and Jacobean (Clarendon , 1945) 1944-45 F . O . MATTHŒSSEN : Henry James, the Major Phase (Oxford, 1944) 1945-46 S . C. CHEW : The Virtues Reconciled, an Iconographical Study (1947)

1946-47 MARJORI e HOP E NICOLSON : Voyages to the Moon (Macmillan, 1948)

1947-48 G . B. HARRISON: Shakespearean Tragedy Included i n th e author' s Shakespeare's Tragedies (Rout ledge and Kegan Paul, 1951) 1948-49 E . M . W . TILLYARD : Shakespeare's Problem Plays (1949) 1949-50 E . K. BROWN: Rhythm in the Novel (1950)

1950-51 MALCOL M W . WALLACE : English Character and the English Literary Tradition (1952)

1951-52 R . S . CRANE : The Languages of Criticism and the Structure of Poetry (1953 ) 1952-53 N o lectures given 1953-54 F . M . SALTER : Mediaeval Drama in Chester (1955 )

1954-55 ALFRE D HARBAGE: Theatre for Shakespeare (1955)

TO GEORG E F . REYNOLD S

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PREFACE

KNOWLEDGE OF THE ELIZABETHAN THEATRE

and its methods is garnered in the hope that modern producer s of Shakespear e will see k t o appl y it . I wa s following i n th e steps of many distinguished garnerers in this field when I was honoured wit h th e invitation to giv e the Alexander Lectures. I decided t o abandon my plan to supply more knowledge, and to cop e instea d wit h th e questio n o f it s application . I f m y lectures prov e thi s decision t o hav e bee n rash, the y ma y stil l serve a usefu l purpose , i n reducin g th e distres s of thos e wh o lament tha t student s emerg e to o infrequentl y fro m thei r studies. If any further effec t i s achieved, it is peculiarly appropriate that the University o f Toronto should have given me my rostrum. The University and the city and province it serves are displaying a keen interest in Shakespearea n production an d in ways it ma y b e improved. I wish t o recor d m y gratitud e t o my hosts for their cordiality and their tolerance. My thanks go also to those who had consented to discuss my subject wit h me , chiefl y person s lon g concerne d wit h th e application o f Elizabethan stagin g methods: John C . Adams , Bernard Beckerman , Henr y Wells, Angu s L. Bowmer, Allar dyce Nicoll , Richar d Southern , an d others . Tyron e Guthri e and Bernard Miles were generous of their time in London, and Frederic Halama n an d Dimitrio s Rondiri s i n Athens . Eve n those wh o differe d mos t widel y fro m m e i n poin t o f vie w remained patien t i n spit e o f m y somewha t inquisitoria l approach. M y deb t t o Mr . Rondiri s i s of a specia l kind. A s

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General Director of the National Theatre of Greece, he invited me t o atten d hi s rehearsals of Hippolytus, an d i t wa s whil e I was observin g th e selfles s devotio n o f hi m an d hi s compan y that I came to realize what a theatre for Shakespear e should be. A Guggenhei m Fellowshi p fo r 1953-5 4 afforde d m e th e chance to compar e th e methods of several different nation s in bringing thei r ancien t masterpiece s t o th e moder n stage , a s well as to complet e m y examinatio n o f Elizabethan theatrica l materials. The latte r wor k wa s done i n the Widener Library , the Folge r Library , an d th e Britis h Museum . M y obligatio n is grea t t o th e staff s o f thes e institution s an d o f th e Simo n E. Guggenheim Memorial Foundation . The essa y formin g Appendi x A i s reprinte d fro m th e Shakespeare Jahrbuch o f 195 5 with th e permission of its editors, and tha t formin g Appendi x B i s abbreviated fro m a n articl e that appeare d originall y i n th e Publications of the Modern Language Association o f 1933 . The latte r i s of dubious value so far a s my presen t aim s are concerne d an d wa s include d a s a personal indulgence. This small book contain s al l I hav e sai d or am likely to say upon its particular subject. The lecture s ar e printe d precisel y a s they wer e delivered , and their ton e is not alway s polite. I might plea d th e sanction of th e fathe r wh o chastise s th e so n in who m h e delights . I can more honestly point ou t Shakespearea n production is too tough a perennial to be blighted by an astringent. A. H. harvard University September, 1955

CONTENTS

PREFACE

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I Th e Problem i II Elizabetha n Guidance in the Stagin g 1

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III Elizabetha n Guidance in the Presentatio n 4

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IV Propose d Solutio n 6

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APPENDIX A Th e Rol e of the Shakespearea n Producer 7

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APPENDIX B Elizabetha n Acting 9

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I. THE PROBLEM

A

TTENDING A PERFORMANCE OF OlHELLO SOME

years ag o wer e tw o ladie s whos e cheerfu l an d unconsciou s martyrdom stil l serve s me a s a symbol . I t becam e eviden t a s the evenin g wor e o n tha t the y wer e bein g detaine d beyon d their usua l bedtime. Th e on e les s successfu l i n controllin g th e symptoms turned a t las t t o he r companio n wit h a whispered apology: "Shakespear e alway s make s m e sleepy , he' s s o rhythmic!"—a delightfu l utterance , exculpatin g a t onc e bot h the poetry-lover and her poet. When the play ended they sidled to the aisle, beaming the contentment of so many good peopl e upon leaving church or a Shakespearean performance, gratified that the y hav e come , an d gratifie d tha t the y no w ma y go . Perhaps I remember them because I was equally though less graciously bored. Yet the production was one still reckoned as memorable—lavishly mounted, an d enriched by the talents of two famou s actors. Indeed the audience as a whole was bored, although mos t o f its members would have indignantly denied it an d th e interva l wa s murmurous with well-bre d approval . The wor d bored is scarcely precise: the moo d a t this as at most performances o f Shakespear e migh t bette r b e describe d a s reverently unreceptive . Ther e wa s smal l sens e o f joy, smal l sense o f sorrow ; ther e wa s rarely a momen t o f tha t hus h o f absorption which is the onl y sign-warran t o f effectual drama . The averag e motion pictur e casts a deeper spell of illusion and

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wins a stronge r emotiona l respons e tha n th e tragedie s o f Shakespeare as staged in our theatres . A thousan d author s hav e writte n a thousan d critique s o f Othello, Hamlet, Macbeth, an d Lear, not alway s humbly or in a spirit o f accord, ye t all deferring to th e simpl e judgment tha t these plays are very beautifu l an d very sad. They should seem so whe n performed . Th e departin g spectator s shoul d no t speak o f the accessorie s of the productio n a s they usuall y do , sometimes a s if fro m prepare d notes , bu t o f th e wonde r o f human destin y a s figure d fort h i n th e fable d event s an d th e matchless speec h o f th e pla y itself , or , bette r still , shoul d preserve a n exalted, o r a t least decent , silence . If these word s sound evangelical, if it be objected that aesthetic and emotiona l response on an appropriately Shakespearea n scale would be too fatiguing for moder n nerves , let me reduc e my demand s and ask only that audience s be no less moved by Shakespear e than by lesser dramatists. My grie f is that they are rarely move d at au. On e observe s at performance s of Othello a disposition t o view the proceedings with concer n onl y at the moment whe n the Moo r i s smotherin g th e lady , an d s o migh t reasonabl y conclude tha t the play is defective, that the Moor shoul d have been provide d wit h mor e ladie s to smothe r an d wit h muc h earlier occasions . An d a t Hamlet, Macbeth, an d eve n Lear— to ascrib e these dry eye s about u s to a response too dee p fo r tears would be, if I may say so, a little disingenuous. Now i t migh t see m unlikely, i f wha t I a m sayin g i s true, that so many people should attend the performances. Of course a grea t man y other s d o not . O f m y ow n acquaintanc e ar e several who love Shakespear e and love th e theatre bu t do no t love Shakespear e in the theatre. On e o f them tell s me that he rarely attend s and then always to rediscover tha t his favourite commentator i s Shakespeare' s ow n Christophe r Sly — " A very excellen t piec e o f work... . Woul d 'twer e done. " If more peopl e are drawn t o th e theatre b y Shakespear e than

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by any othe r dramatist, th e explanation lies less in the qualit y of th e resultin g experienc e tha n i n th e bar e statement o f th e fact: the y ar e drawn t o th e theatr e by Shakespeare. Hi s name has come t o stan d for tha t whol e elusiv e bu t ever-beckonin g complex o f moral an d cultura l value s proverbially honoure d as "the bette r things of life," and any producer i s self-deceived who measure s attendance withou t referenc e t o th e centurie s of advanc e publicit y o r th e legio n o f writers , lecturers , an d teachers who serve as eager touts. People know that Shakespeare is best, and whether the y know it throug h discovery , revela tion, o r commo n report , thei r hopefulnes s i s touching, an d their hunge r fo r wha t i s best deserves mor e fro m th e theatr e than successiv e tests of faith.

2 So much by way of exordium. Th e substance of my lectures was born of discontent, and it was necessary that it be expressed. I wis h to propos e a theatre fo r Shakespeare—no t i n the sense of a building, whethe r som e regional Globe-restore d o r some national monument to the Poet-as-Hero, but in the more gen eral sens e of the auspice s of production, specificall y an acting company wit h it s techniques an d animating ideals. I intend t o indulge in counsels of perfection and, in doing so, must assume that I know wha t perfection is. That the assumption is large I need no t poin t out—th e though t wil l occu r t o yo u spon taneously—but th e tim e fo r scepticis m is not yet : imperfection is my presen t theme , a s always relatively safe . T o thos e wh o protest tha t the y enjo y th e Shakespearea n performances now available and wil l b e robbed o f a pleasure if I persuade them that the y d o not, I can offer onl y apologie s and old-fashione d syllogizing. We enjoy many things, and the more fortunate we are the mor e things we enjoy , bu t unles s there i s a differenc e in the nature and intensity of our enjoyment of different thing s

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—the play of King Lear and the game of darts—the difference i n the nature and value of the things themselves mus t quite con found distinction . Th e questio n i s not whethe r w e enjo y cer tain things but whether we enjoy them in a certain way, and to the limit of our capacity to enjoy them, and of their capacity to be enjoyed . Theatrica l event s ma y b e enjoyabl e simpl y a s theatrical events, especially when the theatre itself is new to us or normall y inaccessible , an d occasiona l production s o f Shakespeare ma y b e goo d o r a t leas t better tha n others , an d even th e wors t ma y contai n som e goo d thing , bu t al l of this has nothin g t o d o wit h th e best. I f w e invok e th e simpl e principle tha t the best plays are worthy o f the best production , meaning th e kin d o f productio n bes t for th e plays , w e mus t recognize that something is at present amiss. If what is supposed to happen when Shakespeare' s plays are performed did actually happen, i f the y cas t a spel l upo n audience s commensurat e with the presumed potenc y o f their magic , the fac t woul d be so manifes t as to rende r m y challeng e absurd . I t woul d no t seem slightl y unsportin g t o inquir e i f the jokes wo n gust s o f spontaneous laughter , slightl y gauche t o mentio n tears . All person s roughl y classifiabl e a s idealist s gro w use d t o being take n gentl y asid e an d explaine d th e tact s o f life . Concerning Shakespear e on the modern stage the remonstrance will g o somewha t a s follows . Yo u complai n o f th e polit e apathy in audiences, and I understand what yo u mean , bu t i t might b e well if you diverte d you r ster n gaz e from the pro ductions a moment t o glanc e at th e play s themselves. Shakespeare, w e say , is not o f an age but fo r al l time, an d so , in a sense, he is; but w e mus t not le t ourselve s be blinded b y such dazzling encomi a o r tak e ou r ow n rhetori c to o literally . No t all of Shakespeare is for al l time, and perhaps not al l times are for Shakespeare . This i s the twentiet h century , an d althoug h it pain s me to tel l yo u so , there are counts against these plays quite apart from how the y ar e produced .

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Thus speak s th e realist , eithe r th e friendl y privat e monito r or, increasingly of kte, th e professional dramatic critic. Peopl e used to say , in voices discreetly hushed, "You kno w Wolcot t Gibbs doesn' t like Shakespeare, " bu t th e assumptio n o f thi s witty journalist tha t Shakespearean producers are coping wit h intransigent material is no longer awe-inspiringly unique. "W e must fac e th e fact, " say s on e reviewe r afte r anothe r o f on e disappointment afte r another , "tha t th e basi c fault lie s i n th e play itself." Since all continue to display the highest regard for the author i n the abstract, we gain the impression that Shake speare would b e a great playwright were it not fo r his plays or at leas t for th e one s usually placed o n view . Thi s alternativ e possibility must be considered—that th e frustration s I have so bleakly described are due not to the nature of the productions but to the nature of the plays themselves.

3 An indictmen t o f the play s as living dram a migh t procee d under thre e counts . Thes e woul d be , expresse d i n th e leas t compromising language , thei r bewilderin g prolixity , thei r archaic subject-matter , an d thei r stultifyin g reputatio n a s classics. The character s o f Shakespear e are grea t talkers , even thos e like Hotspur wh o ckim to be ruggedly laconic, and unless one is able to gather ideas and impressions in full proportio n t o th e number of words they use, one is certain to find them, whethe r one admits it or not, prolix and consequently boring. Listening to thes e plays is an exacting experience. The y are written in a highly individua l idio m of the English tongue as current thre e and a half centuries ago. Some of the words are no longer in use, or are in use in a different sense . The styl e is swift and elliptical, an unusual combination o f the literary an d colloquial, wit h a wealth of imagery drawn in part from objects no longer visibl e

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and from book s no longer read. Something comparable to the haze of distance indubitably exists, challenging the vision of all and bafflin g tha t o f some . I kno w o f on e yout h wh o lef t a performance o f Antony and Cleopatra i n angr y incredulit y because th e Quee n o f Egyp t an d he r handmaid s coul d no t possibly have died from the bite of a "worm." On the other hand Shakespeare's language is more than nor mally communicative . I t wa s created initially wit h enormou s power o f projection, and it remain s th e revers e o f wha t th e more sympathetic critics of modern poetr y cal l "private" and the les s sympathetic cal l amorphou s an d imprecise . Fe w pas sages tha t hav e reache d u s incorrup t ar e inherentl y obscure , and eve n th e mos t comple x revea l th e disciplin e o f a hig h intelligence observin g th e limit s o f wha t ma y b e intelligibl y conveyed. Consequentl y th e difficult y eve n o f thes e passage s tends t o disappea r whe n the y ar e spoke n b y someon e wh o himself understand s them , providin g th e speake r i s audible . One o f my less literary friends ha s told me that he first understood wha t Shakespearea n characters were saying in a motio n picture version. "Come to think o f it," h e added, "it's the first time I ever heard what they were saying." At the theatre, from the locations he could afford , th e play s had seeme d to consis t only of peculiarly dressed people making peculiar sounds. It does not follow that an audible and expressive delivery of the lines solves everything for all listeners. I shall return to the point in a moment, afte r considerin g the second coun t i n m y hypothetical indictment of the pkys as living drama. It usually presents itself as the obvers e of the first, in a form somethin g like this : Althoug h Shakespeare' s language i s wonderful , o f course, hi s stories and thei r mora l emphasi s now see m mor e than a littl e quaint—wit h s o muc h violen t an d improbabl e action, s o much idyllic love-and intensity of family feeling, so much ado about chastity and the like. As a case in point, it is too much t o expec t th e moder n min d t o gro w greatl y exercise d over Othello's fancied grievanc e when it could not d o so even

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if the grievance were real. So-called adultery, after all, is amenable to rational contemplation, psychologica l as well as statistical, and suggests to civilize d peopl e nothin g mor e sanguinary than the divorce courts. We migh t reply that the play is not abou t adultery, fancied or real, but about evil preying upon innocence like the serpent of old and the anguish of one who is led to throw a pearl away dearer than all his tribe. But that is not the point. Or we might reply tha t mora l sentimen t ha s undergon e a les s violen t revolution tha n is fashionably maintained, and whatever their course of action, most husbands in Othello's supposed situation feel mos t o f Othello's pangs. But agai n that i s not th e point . We eithe r yiel d ourselve s to a work o f art or we do not. W e are either capable of escaping our intellectual preoccupations or we are not. Th e closing words of the Iliad on the death-rites of Hector, tamer of horses, need not leave us cold because we are not ourselve s tamers of horses, or because the taming of horses confers n o distinctio n i n ou r circle , o r becaus e the hors e has been superseded by the automobile. The standard of values of a poet and his characters calls for sympathy, not logical analysis. But th e intrusivenes s of the moder n eg o is a fact tha t must be reckoned with. We ar e living in an age of a great diffusio n of superficia l knowledge , an d suc h knowledge—perhap s al l knowledge i n excess of experience—is sophisticating. A grea t many peopl e fin d th e substanc e of Shakespearea n drama to o elemental for their tastes, and tend to view it with reserve if not condescension. A great many others, lacking the cultivation of these, find its language too mystifyin g eve n when audibly and expressively rendered. Puttin g i t crudely , thes e plays are basi cally a popula r typ e o f literatur e n o longe r accessibl e t o a popular typ e o f audience ; a spectato r wit h th e righ t kin d o f heart ma y have the wrong kin d o f head, just as another wit h the righ t kin d o f hea d ma y hav e th e wron g kin d o f heart . If there are factors inhibiting a full respons e from bot h o f tw o opposite kind s of people, th e situation appears very sad—unti l

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we happil y reflec t tha t peopl e ar e no t divisibl e int o opposit e kinds. Thousands triumph ove r thei r cultivation, o r lack of it, and read Shakespeare's plays with delight in their language and accord wit h thei r mora l an d emotiona l burden . Thi s als o is a fact, and it renders irrelevant the charges of obsolescence. These plays are not fo r everyone. They ar e for enough to compose a qualified audience, and it is for this qualified audience that per formances shoul d b e designed . If th e play s can b e rea d wit h enthusiasm, the y coul d b e see n an d hear d wit h eve n greate r enthusiasm, if the performances were worthy of the plays. But, look you, says the man of the theatre (and we come now to the last of our three counts against Shakespeare as a "living" dramatist), the standing of these plays is such that nothing w e do can seem worthy o f them. If we are unable to succeed with them as with ordinary plays, it is for the very reason that they are no t ordinar y plays . The y ar e no t greete d wit h ordinar y expectations by audiences in ordinary moods. A performance is less a performance than an "occasion," and the spectator comes less to see the play than to see how w e do the play. Conside r the frightfu l uneas e of the acto r a s he launches into Hamlet' s "To be or not to be." Ho w can he achieve spontaneity, or seem more tha n the ech o o f a host of predecessors? His dilemma is our dilemma i n little. It is all very well t o say that these wares are wel l advertised ; indeed the y ar e too wel l advertised . Th e trouble is that the plays of Shakespeare have ceased to be plays at all—they have become classics. It migh t b e answere d tha t al l pejorative use s o f th e ter m classics sugges t a latent devotio n t o mediocrity , bu t thi s is no moment fo r brusqueness. There i s promise in the fac t tha t th e men of the theatre will admit, at least in private, that a trouble exists. Thei r diagnosi s i s natural, bu t not , I believe , correct . The notio n tha t fam e create s distraction , o r tha t familiarit y breeds ennui, is not supporte d b y our genera l experience wit h works of art—with pictures, poetry, or music. That th e mem-

9 bers of an audience have seen Hamlet befor e is no impedimen t to thei r seein g Hamlet again , th e pla y a s distinc t fro m th e production, providin g th e productio n subserve s the pla y an d makes no separate bid for attention. Work s of art are not such that the y ma y b e contemplate d mor e tha n onc e onl y unde r inducement. The most literate audiences of today, incidentally , are less familiar wit h Hamlet tha n were th e late r audience s for which Shakespeare' s own company performed it. If an actor is tortured a s he speak s its soliloquies, i t i s the faul t o f hi s ow n misguided aspirations abetted by the tradition, or lack of tradition, i n whic h h e works . Hi s sens e that h e ma y no t simpl y stand, but must sit down, o r lie down, o r lunge about, or turn his bac k to th e audience ; that h e ma y no t simpl y speak , bu t must whisper , o r mutter , o r shout , o r mus t spea k throug h closed lips or clenched teeth, has no parallel among other interpreters o f work s o f art . Ther e ar e strain s i n th e grea t sym phonies as familiar and famous as any speeche s in Shakespeare, but the y see m t o conve y t o th e member s o f orchestra s n o compulsion t o star t a parade or eve n ris e in thei r seats . They are not distracted , and we ar e not distracted . I see no escap e from th e conclusio n tha t i f a n audienc e i s distracte d b y a Shakespearean production as a whole—-or embarrassed, or puz zled, or worst an d most commo n o f all, gradually stupefied — the fault lie s not i n the classical standing of the play any mor e than i n its language and substance , but i n th e wa y th e pla y is performed.

4 One would b e justified in declining to debat e the potentia l effectiveness of Shakespeare in the theatre, meeting doubts with Johnsonian roundness : these"are great'plays and that's an end of it. I have paused with the issue less to defend the plays than t o defend th e audience—or rather t o stat e the defensive proposition tha t th e righ t kin d o f productions woul d fin d th e righ t

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kind o r audiences even though special qualifications, or understanding, o f feeling, and o f tolerance fo r th e classics , must b e postulated in such audiences. Modern production is undertaken in the doubt that the plays can still stand on their ow n merits , or that the audiences are qualified to perceive those merits, and is marre d b y a determine d spiri t o f helpfulness . It become s increasingly apparent each year that, of all writers, Shakespeare is the one most in need of assistance, and the critic's eagerness to prevent misunderstandin g is matched b y the producer's eagerness t o preven t mislike . He consider s it feasibl e t o desig n th e right kin d o f productions fo r th e wrong kind o f audience—a Shakespeare-without-tears for those predisposed to suffer . The peculiar an d influential doctrin e that the spectators will normally b e suc h as must b e compensate d for seein g Shake speare, mus t b e administere d Shakespear e with palliative s o r converted to him from a deep-rooted hatred, is, like all peculiar and influential doctrines, investe d with an air of righteousness. The image of the soulless schoolmaster is invoked, that villainous fellow wh o turn s golden word s t o dros s by tellin g wha t they mean , thu s nipping awa y th e beauty-seekin g tendrils o f the young—i n muc h th e sam e manner , presumably , a s th e teacher o f arithmeti c kill s their potentia l lov e o f income-tax forms. I have heard considerable confirmatory testimony about traumatic experience with Shakespear e in school (sinc e happily nullified b y well-spring s o f inne r strength) , bu t i n m y ow n experience o f secondary education , althoug h non e o f th e in struction wa s greeted wit h enthusiasm , nothing wa s preferred to literary explication except idlenes s absolute. Few souls were saved for poetry, but none at all were lost. It i s chiefl y i n Americ a wher e th e educationa l proces s i s revered an d suspected in equal measure that the producers fee l they mus t striv e against the banefu l effect s o f schooling. Kin dred missioner s i n Englan d ar e mor e ap t t o cit e th e natura l deprivation of the masses. I recall how at Stratford-upon-Avo n

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a delegatio n o f scholars , includin g m y unworth y self , wa s soothingly addresse d by the director the n in charge before w e had seen his repertory. You will not, he said, like everything we do, bu t yo u mus t bea r i n min d tha t ou r audienc e consist s o f excursionists, an d the y mus t b e give n somethin g fo r thei r penny. Th e word s seeme d benevolent an d wise, until we had seen the repertory, whe n they were reinterpreted t o mean that someone must suffer an d it might as well be we. My most tearful recollectio n i s of the openin g scen e of The Tempest, wher e the smalles t possible ship tossing in th e larges t possible storm was offered i n lieu of hearing or even seeing the actors. Non e of u s wanted production s for scholars , at least i n an y loosel y impersonal sens e of th e term , bu t i t seeme d possibl e that w e were bein g over-victimized , an d tha t thos e other s abou t us , who ha d mad e thei r pilgrimag e o f grac e t o th e birthplace , would have graciously accepted the poetry. One troubl e wit h th e compensatory production s i s that th e excursionists are rarely give n enoug h fo r thei r penny—not so much a s they woul d ge t a t th e pantomim e or , t o retur n t o America, at a "regular show. " The inserte d spectacle is rarely a first-class spectacle, the stereoptico n ghost rarely a first-class illusion, th e battle-scen e formalize d a s a balle t behin d gauz e rarely a first-clas s ballet . On e feel s chagrine d o n behal f o f Shakespeare, wh o i s worthy o f bette r spectacles , better illu sions, bette r ballets . Bu t eve n whe n suc h effect s ar e skilfull y managed, a s sometimes o f cours e the y are , th e chie f troubl e remains—the suffocating redundancy . In popular art, whatever its other defects , redundanc y is as rare as dullness, and i t i s an error t o suppos e that a n anti-Shakespearea n audienc e will b e unconscious of it, satisfie d wit h it , o r converte d t o poetr y b y its means. Fro m the hypothetical poin t o f view o f this hypothetical audience , n o on e ruins a spectacle so thoroughly a s a wordy old writer like Shakespeare. The anti-Shakespearean audience is, in any case, only a myth,

12 composed a s it need s must b e o f th e peopl e wh o sta y away . Actual audiences are only too anxious to be pleased and, failing that, to appear pleased. The things that are added unto Shake speare leav e thes e audiences mildly diverted , gratefu l for th e effort expende d o n their behalf , and generally unresentful, bu t with n o ne w awarenes s of literary greatness . They would b e little mor e bore d b y plai n Shakespear e than b y fanc y Shake speare. It is pointless to argue that audiences dwindle whe n th e plays are presented without elaborat e mounting, o r star s bor rowed from the films. That press-agentry and "packaging" ar e a grea t power i s a fac t no t i n dispute . The argument fail s t o reckon with the possibility that audiences dwindle whe n ther e are n o frill s becaus e ther e i s nothin g lef t excep t inferiorit y undisguised.

5 General charges of inferiority are rash as well as unkind, bu t occasionally such a charge is supported by the sheer probabilities o f the case . Let us reflect fo r a moment o n th e condition s under whic h symphoni c musi c i s currentl y presente d in America as compared with those of the Shakespearea n theatre. Analogies between poetry and music are often loose and vexatious, the two are not the same or explicable in the same critical terms; but i n one particular a play and a symphony are alike: both reac h us through intermediar y artists ; both ar e designed for performance . Th e grea t differenc e betwee n the m make s only more remarkable the fact that I wish to point out . Since th e symphon y employ s th e mor e universa l symbols, and since these are set down afte r a more exact system of notation, one might assum e that the symphony coul d b e rendere d with greate r eas e tha n th e play , i n a spiri t o f mor e careles s assurance, and by less experienced artists . Obviously, however , everyone i s proceeding o n th e opposit e assumption . I n mor e than a score of American cities fine symphony orchestra s pro -

13

vide acces s to classica l music. Th e leas t o f thes e orchestra s is more carefull y organized , mor e continuou s i n it s existence , more rigi d i n its standards, and mor e seriousl y regarded tha n any agenc y concerne d wit h actin g Shakespeare . The greate r orchestras are conducted by men of international renown. They bring to their work a native gift, a technical proficiency, and a reverence for the works they interpret beyond anything known among producer s of Shakespeare. The latte r are energetic and versatile men and women vouchsafing to their task a few weeks of tim e durin g a n interva l i n mor e exactin g labours . T o b e chosen for th e humblest place in on e o f the grea t orchestra s is to b e distinguished among instrumentalists . To b e chosen fo r a minor rol e in Shakespeare is to be available at the moment o f casting, at the lower Equity rates. It i s needles s t o pursu e th e comparison . Th e plac e o f th e symphony i n America is no occasio n for bitternes s surely, and yet the lover o f classical drama ma y well wonde r wha t si n he is expiating tha t there shoul d b e suc h feasting fo r hi s musical neighbour an d only a few broke n meat s for himself. That th e symphony orchestra s are no t economicall y self-supportin g i s beside the point; w e ar e speaking only o f quality, and there is no immutabl e la w t o th e effec t tha t a Shakespearea n theatre must b e profitable . On e furthe r poin t mus t b e noted . Th e great orchestra s do no t undertake t o ador n classica l music in such a way as to make it palatable to those predisposed to hate it, and yet without this effort at "popularization" classical music grows more popular every year. It woul d b e effrontery t o as k for a score o f dramatic com panies a s richl y maintaine d an d deservedl y esteeme d a s th e score of symphony orchestras . We ma y modestly as k for one . America ha s a wonderfu l arra y o f facilitie s fo r th e highe r appreciation o f Shakespeare : severa l specialize d periodicals , several world-famou s Renaissanc e libraries , man y loca l an d national societies, a large annua l outpu t o f books and articles ,

14

a prodigiou s networ k o f schoo l an d colleg e courses—every thing indeed except an adequate company to perform his plays. There was a time when we could look to England for productions bette r tha n ou r own , bu t w e ar e force d t o recognize , despite ou r reminiscen t fondnes s fo r th e Ol d Vi c an d th e Stratford Memoria l Theatre , tha t tha t tim e i s i n th e past . Incredible as it seems, there is nowhere in the English-speaking world a single compan y o r producin g agenc y wit h sufficien t stability, sens e o f direction , an d inflexibilit y o f standard s t o offer performance s o f a reliable kin d an d quality—pilo t pro ductions tha t migh t serv e a s inspiration an d example . Franc e has no t on e bu t thre e theatre s presenting t o uniforml y larg e and appreciativ e audience s th e Frenc h ckssics , wit h technica l perfection and, more miraculously, with undiminished vitality. It i s customary t o vie w th e merit s o f the Comédi e Française fatalistically, a s a sort o f lucky accident. France, we say , has a fine tradition. A fine tradition i s enviable, bu t mor e enviable still is the will that establishes and maintains it. A performance of Molière, like a performance of Shakespeare, is an individual thing, and may be good o r bad because of or in spite of tradition. If it is a good thing, it is because someone wills it so after assessing ane w th e goodnes s o r badnes s o f th e tradition . I t cannot b e accidentall y good . Goo d tradition s ma y b e trans planted, a s instance d b y America n symphon y orchestras , o r created, a s instanced by th e present-da y productions o f Greek tragedies in Athens. A tremendous gulf, historical and cultural, even racia l an d linguistic , separate s the moder n Greek s fro m the ancients , bu t the y ar e performin g Euripide s muc h bette r than we are performing Shakespeare. The self-sacrifice o f their artists i n acceptin g professiona l hardship, an d th e anxiet y o f their managemen t t o d o ful l justice t o th e play s entrusted t o their car e shoul d hav e fo r u s th e forc e o f a reproach . Ou r Shakespearean theatre at its best seems jaunty an d frivolous in comparison.

15

6 I hav e reache d th e en d o f m y lament , an d m y remainin g lectures wil l b e constructive. I have already , I should lik e t o think, give n support to two constructive ideas: first, that ther e should be a Shakespearean company committed t o the idea of a completely qualifie d audience, so that nothing need be done t o alter o r enhance the effect s dictate d b y the script ; and second, that thi s compan y shoul d mee t standard s o f personne l an d performance equa l t o thos e o f the bes t symphon y orchestras . Two question s immediatel y arise . Wha t ar e thos e effect s "dictated" by the script? And how, i n this faulty world, is this faultless compan y t o be recruited and maintained? The secon d of these questions I shall cope wit h i n my concludin g lecture , and although I shall try t o do justice t o othe r alternatives , my advocacy wil l b e fo r a n uncompromisin g professionalism . Academic Shakespeare , little-theatr e Shakespeare , training school Shakespeare , and summer-festiva l Shakespear e are no t quite what I have in mind. The tw o intervenin g lecture s wil l b e devote d t o th e firs t question. Grante d tha t ballet s and the like are not dictate d b y the Shakespearea n script, just what is ? There mus t b e a stage, but what kind of stage? There mus t be actors, but what should these actor s do ? Shoul d ther e b e scenery o r shoul d ther e no t be scenery ? An d i f ther e i s not scener y an d th e scrip t read s "Jessica above, " just wher e shoul d Jessica be ? What doe s th e script dictate whe n i t say s "Alarm s an d Excursions"? Stagin g Shakespeare's plays presents concrete problems , an d a general expression o f dissatisfactio n wit h obviou s interpolation s wil l not do. The proffered solution s must be concrete, and suppor ted by some kind of argument other than intuition . Before indicatin g th e nature o f my approac h t o a solution , I wish to point out that our one great advantage at this moment is that w e are in a position t o defin e th e problem . W e no w

16 know enoug h about the Elizabethan stag e to extract from our knowledge reliabl e suggestion , and also we now hav e behin d us three centurie s o f example i n the hazard s of Shakespearean production. Fro m th e lat e seventeent h t o th e lat e nineteent h century, the plays were vehicles for the talents of a royal suc cession o f virtuosi . Som e o f thes e wer e grea t artists , bu t they viewe d th e play s mainly a s the occasio n fo r th e displa y of thei r artistry . Thei r readin g o f famou s passage s was ofte n brilliant an d refined , their projectio n o f th e grea t role s ofte n marvellously effective , bu t thei r traditio n assume d tha t th e texts shoul d b e so manipulated and th e mino r role s so faintly "filled in " b y mino r actor s that thei r persona l geniu s should appear unrivalled. Th e mos t perceptive dramati c criticism we have inherited fro m the lon g era of these kingly actors is that which protest s agains t thei r imperialism . Towar d th e en d o f the nineteent h centur y ne w departure s i n stag e lightin g an d other mechanisms effected a revolution in the economics of the theatre. Th e roya l successio n came t o a n end , an d th e mos t successful "Shakespeareans " were those who showe d th e most facility in trading upon the new resources of the theatre, acting impresarios such as Sir Henry Irving and Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree. Scenic elaboration and gorgeousness became the order of the day, and again the most perceptive dramatic criticism con sisted of protest. It was in the era of Irving and Tree that William Poe l began to conduc t hi s valiant attempts to restor e the plays of Shake speare t o thei r author . Hi s ideal s wer e a s admirabl e a s hi s knowledge an d facilitie s wer e inadequate . Georg e Bernar d Shaw praised his efforts, an d usually for th e righ t reasons , bu t William Archer and the majority of practical thinkers did not . In th e debat e ove r th e merit s an d defect s o f th e Elizabetha n manner as then conceived, bot h sides displayed the usual pride of opinion . I t wa s assume d b y th e proponent s tha t i f th e original manne r o f productio n coul d b e restored , i t woul d

17

prove t o be the right manner eternally. The reliance was upon authority, eve n upo n Elizabetha n prestige , an d emphasi s was placed o n suc h thing s a s coul d b e mos t easil y imitated , o n Elizabethan stagin g rathe r tha n o n Elizabetha n compan y organization an d competence. Stil l William Poe l performed a great service and the best productions of the twentieth century , those o f Granville-Barke r an d Bridges-Adams , hav e bee n greatly influenced by his work, while all productions have been influenced in some measure. Poel's critic s misse d thei r opportunit y t o clarif y th e issue . Some o f the m conducte d th e discussio n o n a lo w satirica l plane, and instead of trying t o extract the good fro m the new theories, they reduced them t o absurdity. If we are to remov e the scenery from th e stage, why not remove th e roof from the theatre and let the spectators stand in the rain? Why no t cas t a choir-boy a s Cleopatra ? I f w e ar e t o pla y Julius Caesar i n Elizabethan dress, why no t pla y it in modern dres s and let the senators wear froc k coats ? There ar e good answer s to all such questions, but unfortunately we have witnessed less inclination to provid e the m tha n t o seiz e upo n th e advertisin g valu e o f the reduction s t o absurdity . Som e director s hav e answered , "Why not? " an d regale d u s wit h a successio n o f ingeniou s "stunts," while others have retained an underlying allegiance to the spectacularity of modern stage-craft. I n the absence of any restraining tradition and in the presence of conflicting theories , Shakespearean productio n ha s becom e wildl y experimenta l with the more aggressive directors as the master-minds. Some one seem s always t o b e gettin g betwee n u s and Shakespeare , first the actor-kings, the n th e actor-impresarios, an d now th e director-dictators. Perhap s w e shoul d sa y no t someon e bu t something—and that thing human egotism. Egotism i s not unknow n amon g academic persons like my self; hence I must try t o b e factual an d objective in seeking in Elizabethan preceden t an d th e twentieth-centur y dilemm a a

18

solution to our problem. The paradoxical nature of the problem is illustrated in the following statements . We shoul d stage the plays of Shakespeare as they were staged in the first place, not becaus e that necessarily is the bes t way t o stag e plays but because these particular plays were written to be staged in that way and we do not wish to change them. But if we stage them as they were staged in the first place, we will be staging them in an archaeological fashion, and they wer e not stage d in th e first plac e i n a n archaeologica l fashion . Hence t o stag e the m correctly i s to stag e them incorrectly . I am not playin g wit h words but seriousl y suggesting that in the theatre as elsewhere the styl e that attracts attention t o itsel f is bad. The unusua l is a psychologica l hazard, and w e mus t keep in view ou r mai n end—that tie attentio n o f the audience is to be focussed upo n essentials. The way out of the difficulty seems to he in amending the first proposal. We shoul d stage the plays of Shakespeare as they were staged in the first place, but without seeming to do so. This is the most difficult o f prescriptions, because showmen d o not like to do anything without seeming to do it, but I believe it i s the onl y possibl e one i f we ar e t o le t th e greates t o f all showmen again have his full chance. We mus t decide wha t wa s the manne r i n whic h hi s plays were performe d i n his own time , wha t wer e th e element s in that manner that are indispensable to their proper performance in an y time, an d how thes e elements ma y b e restored i n ou r time withou t creatin g a self-defeatin g distraction . W e mus t map ou t th e point s o f no-compromise, and these should lea d us to the solution, to a Theatre for Shakespeare.

II. ELIZABETHA N GUIDANC E IN TH E STAGIN G

M

Y PROPOSAL

THAT

WE

SHOULD BEGIN BY

deciding how Shakespeare' s plays were staged in the first place may have seemed a trifle airy . No subjec t i n theatrical histor y has bee n more militantl y disputed . Two mutuall y contradic tory theories are at present locked i n a death-grip. Th e older , the multiple-stage theor y describe d in most current textbooks , maintains that the action was distributed among various acting areas, wit h a considerabl e numbe r o f episode s mounte d i n curtained enclosure s a t th e rea r o f th e projectin g platform . Either o f these enclosures , the so-calle d "inner " and "upper" stages, would, whe n use d in isolation, function much like th e furnished box-set s of the modern theatre. The newer theory, in violent opposition , dismisse s th e "inner " an d almos t th e "upper" stage, proposing in their stead a number of practicable scenic structures of frame an d canvas scattered about th e platform an d servin g a s the locale s of a play. Th e term death-grip may be read literally: the older theory was already dying when the younger arose to challenge it, while the younger is unlikely to surviv e it s maiden combat . An d ye t neithe r th e curtaine d enclosure nor the practicable scenic structure is a figment of the imagination—they both existed—but to let our minds dwell on them i s t o misconstru e th e essentia l natur e o f Elizabetha n staging.

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In the processes of historical as of chemical investigatio n w e often witness the greatest surface ebullition at the moment whe n solutions ar e clearing . I n recen t year s there ha s been , despit e appearances, a meetin g o f intereste d mind s o n a numbe r o f important points , an d th e vie w tha t I shal l presen t i s by n o means exclusively my own . I n the past our grea t difficulty ha s lain les s i n findin g evidenc e o f Elizabetha n method s tha n i n accepting th e evidenc e w e found . W e hav e insiste d upo n supplementing i t wit h selecte d medieval , neo-classical , o r modern data , postulatin g a n evolutionary proces s that woul d relate th e Elizabethan stage to whatever olde r o r newer stage s were mor e familia r t o u s o r les s shockin g t o ou r sens e of . decorum. W e hav e resisted the idea of a stage simple, ancient as primitive dancin g an d moder n a s parlou r charades , a stag e truly of "scen e unlimited"—unlimited make-believe .

2

Burbage's professional predecessor had bee n acting for ove r a centur y befor e a theatre wa s provided fo r him . H e had , o f course, a stage— a circl e o f tur f surrounde d b y villagers , th e floor o f a banqueting chamber , a row o f plank s reare d upo n barrels o r trestle s in a gild-hall o r th e yar d o f an inn. Whe n he spok e h e wa s Everyman , an d hi s stag e wa s Everyplace . Symbolism wa s no ingredien t i n this drama, i t wa s the thin g itself, an d i t remaine d so—wit h al l th e worl d a stage , an d a stage all the world. As the substance of drama became diversi fied an d particular , Everyplac e becam e Anyplace , o r an y particular plac e tha t th e dialogu e o r actio n implied . I n man y episodes i n th e drama , eve n a t it s Shakespearea n height , nothing a t al l i s implied, an d th e plac e i s any plac e suitable , just a s the tim e i s any time suitabl e between th e tim e o f con tiguous episodes . Indoo r episode s could b e as easily localized by dialogu e an d actio n a s outdoor episodes , an d th e indoo r

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episodes increase d in numbe r i n proportio n t o th e increasing concern wit h indoo r Ufe . Ther e wa s little need fo r chang e in staging metho d whe n th e initia l metho d wa s s o generousl y permissive. The earlie r Londo n theatre s wer e alread y operatin g an d Shakespeare perhap s alread y actin g whe n Phili p Sidne y re corded his neo-classical distaste for the scene unlimited: ... where you shall have Asia of the one side and Afric of the other, and so many under-kingdoms that the player, when he cometh in, must ever begin with telling where he is, or else the tale will not be conceived. Now y e shall have three ladies walk to gather flowers, and then we must believe the stage to be a garden. By and by we hear news of a shipwreck in the same place, and then we are to blame if we accept it not for a rock. Upon th e back of that comes in a hideous monster with fire and smoke, and then the miserable beholders ar e boun d t o tak e i t fo r a cave . Whil e i n th e meantim e tw o armies fly in represented with four swords and bucklers, and then what hard heart will not receive it for the pitched field?

The not e o f derision should not mak e us flinch. It i s directed at the dramatic expansiveness more than at the theatrical technique. Scalige r i n Franc e was equally derisive of a technique employing scenic backgrounds when the principle of unity was disregarded. Speculations upo n whethe r "Asia " an d "Afric " wer e en trance point s indicate d b y lettere d card s ar e diversions fro m the essentia l fact : th e episode s were obviousl y occurrin g i n both "Asia" and "Afric" as well as in the "under-kingdoms"— yet all in the same place. The stage appeared to be a battlefield when th e actors appeared to b e battling, a garden when they appeared to b e picking flowers. It transformed itself to a cave, not b y visua l constriction o r b y th e actors ' retrea t into som e constricted sub-area, but by the entrance of the dragon. A drawin g o f the interio r o f th e Swa n playhouse in 159 6 shows suc h a stag e i n use . I n a three-tiere d amphitheatr e a rectangular platfor m extends from one sector of the encirclin g

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frame ou t t o th e centr e o f a yard. O n th e platform are thre e actors grouped so far forward that they are nearly in the middle of the amphitheatre . Tw o ar e standing and one is sitting on a bench. W e canno t tel l whether th e episod e is indoors o r out doors, in Africa, Asia , or England, becaus e we cannot hear th e lines. N o trac e o f scenery o r settin g is visible. The vas t stage stands empt y excep t fo r th e actors , thei r bench , an d tw o permanent pillar s supportin g a loft-cappe d shelte r fro m th e sky. We ca n see how th e actors have made their entrance and how the y will make thei r exit . Tw o door s a t the rear o f the platform lea d int o tha t portio n o f the fram e fro m whic h th e platform extends—the only portion not given over to galleries for spectators . Eve n abov e th e stag e door s i s a spectators ' gallery so that actors are in view from all points of the compass. We ow e this drawing t o the scholarly impulse o f a foreign visitor t o Shakespeare' s London, a stranger as curious as our selves bu t mor e blesse d with opportunity . T o rejec t o r eve n modify it s testimon y woul d b e perilous . Elizabetha n pla y illustrations, severa l of which exist and are sometimes though t to suggest the use of scenery, belong to a different categor y o f testimony: the y pictur e episode s a s conveye d b y al l mean s including th e dialogue , no t necessaril y b y th e stagin g alone . Two additiona l picture s o f ope n stage s in use, although late r and less authoritative than the drawing of the Swan, agree with it in showing actors upon a bare platform accessible only from the rea r an d overlooke d b y a rear galler y a s well as from all other angles. One is the frontispiece of a Restoration collectio n of dramatic sketches, including excerpts from Shakespeare, and was evidently intended to convey t o readers of 167 2 a general idea o f wha t stagin g had formerl y bee n 'like. Bot h sho w th e stage i n a roofed interio r s o that n o stag e pillars appear , an d both sho w a s th e mean s o f acces s a spli t curtai n instea d o f doors. The pictoria l evidenc e suggest s that th e onl y entrance s t o

23

some Shakespearean stages were made through two rear doors, to other s throug h a spli t rea r curtain . Additiona l evidence , mainly the play texts themselves and the surviving production guides know n a s "plots " (bes t studie d i n W . W . Greg' s Dramatic Documents, 2 vols., 1931) , suggest s that entrances to most stage s were made through bot h door s and curtain , with the curtai n coverin g a centra l apertur e int o a backstag e area occasionally opene d t o view fo r theatrical purposes. This cur tained area cannot be considered a stage per se, no more ca n its existence b e denied. Fo r most of the purposes to which it was put, eithe r o f th e broa d rea r door s o f the Swa n would hav e served, an d i n vie w o f ou r certai n knowledg e tha t tents , tombs, an d simila r structure s were occasionall y set up o n th e great platfor m itself , an y Elizabetha n pla y coul d hav e bee n staged at the Swa n theatre as shown, in the manner customar y at all . Only a few more point s about facilities need b e made. Th e gallery a t th e rea r o f th e stag e wa s also , lik e th e curtaine d aperture, use d fo r specia l theatrica l purposes , s o tha t whe n certain plays were performed some portion of it must have been barred t o spectators . Th e platfor m itsel f wa s pierce d b y a trap, use d primarily fo r th e entranc e an d exi t o f spirit s from the nether world, while the ceiling of the pent-house coverin g of the stage , at least in some theatres, was similarly pierced so that heavenl y spirit s might descen d fro m th e loft . Suc h de scents were mos t uncommon , an d Jonson's contemptuou s al lusion t o th e lowerin g o f th e "creakin g throne " (Prologue , Every Man in his Humour) mus t have bee n a s particular i n it s application as most of the other items in his attack. The infernal spirits were more restive, but th e platform trap itself was used (for al l purposes) only in a minority o f plays, and in these only at rare intervals . Curiously, th e Elizabethan stage is often referred to as small, but th e onl y on e fo r whic h w e hav e dimension s wa s forty -

24 three fee t wid e b y twenty-seve n an d a hal f fee t deep . Th e acting area provided wa s therefore much greater than that provided b y moder n stage s as normally used . It wa s adapted t o large an d mobil e casts , ofte n groupe d i n opposin g faction s or massed i n scene s of pageantry. Th e woodwor k an d colouring were decorative though not illustrative, and there was nothing mean or primitive in the impression conveyed . We may tur n now from its fixed physical characteristics to the way this stage was used.

3 I have re-studied i n the original editions the stage directions and implied actio n i n eighty-six plays , includin g seventee n b y Shakespeare—all those known to have been staged by particu lar companies using the London amphitheatre s between 1576 , when th e first was built, an d 1608 , when Shakespeare' s com pany cease d usin g suc h structure s exclusively , barrin g onl y such play s as were no t printe d withi n th e sam e period.* Th e selection was made in order to avoid the confusions that might result fro m th e adaptatio n o f script s to late r stage s o r fro m mere editoria l meddling . Mos t o f th e eighty-si x text s wer e probably printe d fro m script s actuall y use d i n th e amphi theatres and must be considered, collectively if not individually, as supplying unimpeachable evidence. I have studied these plays in relatio n t o whateve r externa l contemporar y evidenc e i s available, suc h a s th e pictures , th e "plots, " an d th e late r prompt-books, a s wel l a s i n relatio n t o whateve r ha s bee n conjectured abou t Elizabetha n theatre s an d thei r methods . What I say must needs be brief, bu t I think it will b e reliable. At th e openin g o f a familia r episod e i n Much Ado about Nothing, Benedick give s an order to a page: "In m y chambe r window lie s a book . Brin g i t hithe r t o m e i n th e orchard. " The word s in the orchard se t the scene . They woul d b e super *The plays are among those liste d a s "Popular" in the present author's Shakespeare and the Rival Traditions (1952), pp. 343-349.

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fluous if the orchar d looked lik e an orchard. Moder n drama tists do no t write , "Brin g it t o m e here in the living room." Shortly afterwards , the cunnin g matchmaker s intrude upo n Benedick's solitude and he says, "I will hide me in the arbour." The word s in the arbour are apt t o sen d ou r mind s seeking for some stag e objec t o r reces s tha t look s lik e a n arbour , eithe r because a n arbou r woul d normall y appea r upo n a moder n stage or because in some other Elizabethan play an arbour was demonstrably employed. Bu t just as the bare stage became an orchard a t Benedick's word , s o any part o f it migh t becom e an arbou r a t hi s furthe r word . Th e arbou r i s whereve r h e chooses t o stand . Th e probabilit y suggeste d by th e pictoria l evidence i s supported b y th e text . Sinc e Benedic k continue s to speak, in lengthy asides, and since his "business" as a startled eavesdropper is periodically described by those from who m he fancies himself concealed, he must be easily audible and prominently visible to the audience—probably standing by one of the stage pillars now functionin g as a symbol of concealment, just as in some other play it might symbolize the tree upon which lovelorn swains pin sonnets. In the episode immediately follow ing, Beatric e i s the hoodwinke d eavesdropper , bu t interes t is maintained by variety. The matchmakers arrive in the orchard first, and Beatrice is enticed to follow and hide in the pleached bower Where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter.

We shoul d neither assume that Beatrice hides where Benedick "hid" no r begi n drapin g propert y honeysuckle s abou t a n "inner" stage. Beatrice need only slip in one door an d out th e other, o r throug h th e spli t curtai n if on e i s provided. Sh e is described firs t a s running "lik e a lapwin g . . . close b y th e ground t o hear our conference, " an d then as "couched i n the woodbine coverture. " Sinc e she is given n o line s lik e Bene dick's an d n o implie d "business " lik e his , sh e nee d no t b e

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in sigh t a t al l except fo r he r lapwin g excursio n an d re-entr y after the others have withdrawn. Th e action of these successive episodes presents awkward puzzles if we elaborate the arrange ments o f the stage, no puzzl e at all if we let i t stan d constan t and bare. At on e point i n Love's Labour's Lost thre e character s eaves drop separately and simultaneously upon a soliloquizing lover. Two place s of "concealment" are suggested in the text only by stage directions biddin g first one character, the n a second step "aside." The symboli c possibilities of the two pillar s thus pre sumably exhausted, a third hiding place is required. Its position is indicated by Berowne's line, "Like a demigod here sit I in the sky." Evidentl y h e has slipped out an d reappeared in the stage gallery, havin g yielded up his initial point of vantage to mak e room for a successor. The soliloquizin g lover at stage centre is now amusingly bracketed by the three eavesdroppers functioning a s a satirica l chorus. Eac h o f th e thre e i s unaware o f th e presence of his predecessor, yet clearl y visibl e to th e audienc e and i n a good positio n to addres s it in asides . Complicated a s the situatio n seems , it prove s easil y manageable if we d o no t tamper with the basic stage. In Romeo and Juliet Rome o i s followe d int o th e Capule t orchard b y hi s friends. Ther e i s no stag e direction , bu t sinc e they d o no t se e him, h e ha s obviously steppe d "aside, " just where is immaterial although probably to a stage pillar. When his friends leave, he is present to comment o n the witticisms he has overheard : "The y jest a t scar s tha t neve r fel t a wound." There i s still n o stag e direction, bu t hi s next line , "Bu t soft ! What ligh t throug h yonde r windo w breaks? " makes it clea r that Julie t ha s appeare d i n th e gallery . Editors , puzzle d by Romeo' s seemin g exi t befor e th e entranc e o f hi s friends , have divided th e scene in two, addin g cryptic stage direction s about "lanes " and the leaping of "walls." The "orchar d wall " mentioned i n th e dialogu e woul d have bee n a thing offstage ,

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created b y the words and a gesture of the speaker's hand. Sinc e Juliet speak s fro m th e gallery , an d i n a late r scen e Romeo descends from i t after thei r brida l night, i t has sometimes been mistaken as the setting of extensive portions of the play—those in whic h Juliet i s upbraided b y her parents , drinks the potion , and i s mourne d i n seemin g death . Tha t suc h crucia l scene s would hav e been cramped into rear recesses and insulated from the audienc e b y a sprea d o f vacan t stag e seem s a n initia l improbability, an d wha t actuall y occurred i s suggested by th e technique i n paralle l o r nearl y paralle l situations . The stag e direction "Ente r Mother" after Romeo' s descen t by the ladde r and exit from the platform does not signif y th e entrance of the mother t o the gallery where Juliet stands . The entrance woul d be t o th e stag e proper, wher e Juliet woul d immediatel y join her in the textuall y undirected fashio n o f Berowne's retur n t o the stag e proper i n Love's Labour's Lost. The platfor m whic h had been the Capulet orchar d as Romeo mad e his exit became, if one chose to thin k o f the matter , th e antechambe r o f Juliet as the mother mad e her entrance. Th e localizatio n o f the stage or an y portio n o f it coul d b e obliterated a s well a s established at will, even in the midst of continuous action. This complet e plasticit y mad e i t possibl e fo r character s t o arrive a t destinations without interruptin g the play by leaving the stage : th e destination s coul d com e t o th e characters . Readers familia r wit h th e instanc e i n George a Greene, whe n Jenkin an d the shoemake r o f Bradfor d agre e to figh t a t "th e town's end," the n take a few steps and say, "Now w e are at the town's end, " ar e apt t o thin k i t quain t an d isolated , bu t i t is only one of the more obviou s o f a number o f similar instances. In the second part of Shakespeare's Henry IV th e stricken king remains continuousl y i n ou r sigh t an d speakin g a s he i s con veyed fro m the Jerusalem chamber t o a bedroom. Whe n he is conveyed bac k t o th e Jerusalem chamber , h e i s conveyed off stage. Unable to believe that the mere movement o f the actors

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upon th e platform coul d conver t th e Jerusalem chambe r into some other , an d the n banis h i t t o a poin t backstage , editor s have also divided thi s scene into two, splittin g Henry's speech in the middle. It is disturbing to realiz e that this sort of altera tion, as well a s the implacabl e naming o f specific localitie s for each bit of action, occurs even in the best editions we use. Normally suc h localization as was established within a scene endured until the stage was cleared. Similar localization migh t be re-established in a later scene, but the moment th e stage was cleared nothing coul d b e assumed: the locale wa s erased with the departure of the actors. At one point i n Selimus the stage is cleared via scaling ladders and rear gallery, momentaril y local ized as the walls of a town besieged. In the episode immediately following, th e attackers lead in the defenders captive throug h the doors under that very gallery just "breached." Since we are apparently now inside the town, we are tempted to say that the gallery now represents the inner instead of the outer sid e of the walls. Actually , however, i t now represent s nothing a t all—it has melted away as an irrelevance. Our mind s have tended to elaborate the façade at the rear of the stag e because we have been more consciou s of it than th e Elizabethans see m t o hav e been . I n thei r productio n guide s pegged up backstage so that the right actors would be in posi tion to enter on cue, the point of entrance is specified only when gallery o r curtaine d reces s wa s t o serve , o r whe n differen t points of entrance were to be used simultaneously to allow for opening encounter s o f individual s or group s onstage— a no t uncommon effect . Fo r al l other entrances , the grea t majority, no particula r point o f entrance i s specified, and i t look s ver y much as if the actors could take their choice, or else habitually entered at the door where the guide was pegged. Occasionally , of course, a particular point o f entrance might b e cued t o th e actor by the action onstage, such as the knocking upon one of the doors or a reference to it as belonging to a particular room

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or house , bu t suc h cues are normally absent . As we reflec t o n the matter , w e realiz e tha t a merely customar y an d dramati cally non-significan t poin t o f entranc e woul d hav e bee n ap propriate for most entrances upon this stage. Why cavi l about which door, with any door equall y implausibl e as an approac h on a street, a road, a battlefield, to a seacoast, in a forest, and the like? The guides usually say "Enter" when the actor is to appear on an empty stage and establish the scene; and "To him, " "T o her," o r "T o them " whe n h e i s to integrat e himsel f int o a scene alread y establishe d ther e b y others . I t wa s he wh o ha d dramatic significance, rather than the façade through whic h he entered.

4 It i s a n unhapp y necessit y o f th e discussio n that w e mus t devote mos t tim e t o thos e part s o f th e stag e where th e leas t playing occurred . Th e majo r use s o f th e galler y hav e bee n sufficiently indicated . I t serve d usually as an upper window , a balcony, th e wal l o f a town, o r a mere poin t o f vantag e fo r choral spectator s o f th e actio n below . Actor s i n th e galler y were easil y heard a s well a s seen, as proved b y th e willingnes s of the playwrights to let characters speak there at considerable length, but it was rarely if ever used except in conjunction with the stag e proper. W e ca n understand why i t originall y cam e into use . Th e fable s tha t wer e t o b e dramatize d sometime s required actio n a t mor e tha n on e level . Althoug h i t wa s possible t o accep t a conventio n o f invisibilit y an d imagin e characters hidden when they really were not, and a convention of foreshortenin g an d imagin e character s movin g i n a fe w paces t o som e differen t locale , i t wa s not possibl e to imagin e that the y coul d b e reached onl y b y scaling ladders when the y stood at stage level. W e ca n understand the distinction and fix the point where the imagination would boggle. The uses of the curtained recess between the stage doors wer e

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equally occasiona l and specialized, and it too wa s rarely if ever used except i n conjunction with th e stage proper. Whe n ther e was to b e a "discovery " o r surprisin g emergence fro m hiding , it wa s deemed mor e effectiv e i f the acto r wa s hidden i n fact . Falstaff wa s discovere d behin d th e curtai n sleepin g of f hi s intolerable dea l of sack, and throug h i t Polonius wa s stabbed. Sometimes th e curtain s would par t upo n th e reces s furnished and peopled, bu t the device was rare, and just as the texts prove that the gallery was suitable for extensive speaking, they prov e that the recess was not: the playwrights got speaking actors out of it as promptly a s possible. We ca n see the proces s operating in sufficien t instance s to draw conclusion s about th e rest , eve n when th e episod e i n questio n bot h open s an d close s i n th e recess practicabl y localize d a s a study , bedroom , o r th e like , as in the cas e of Zenocrate's death-scen e i n the secon d part o f Tamburlaine. I n a number o f instances one ca n actually coun t the numbe r o f lines spoke n insid e an d outsid e th e recess , for instance i n th e Inductio n t o The Merry Devil of Edmonton. A familiar exampl e ma y b e cite d i n a pla y exclude d fro m m y test-group o f eighty-six. Shakespeare' s The Tempest i s as likely as any o f his plays to hav e bee n first performed i n th e roofe d auditorium o f Blackfriar s rathe r tha n i n on e o f th e amphi theatres, but afte r th e stage direction "Her e Prospero discover s Ferdinand an d Miranda playing at chess," the young lovers are required t o spea k only thre e lines before the dialogu e is taken up by the characters on the stage proper where the subsequent action proceeds. Except i n a few particulars , such as the us e of entr'acte musi c which wil l be discussed in the next lecture, th e staging-practices at th e late r Blackfriars , at leas t until th e en d of Shakespeare' s career, seem to have been little different fro m those to which he had originally adapted himself. By n o mean s d o al l suc h stag e directions a s "Enter a ban quet," "Ente r i n his bed," o r "Ente r i n his study" mea n tha t the reces s was used . I f a characte r appeare d o n th e platfor m

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holding a boo k an d candle , h e ha d "entere d i n hi s study. " Such a direction as "Enter a maid with a child in her arms, the mother b y he r asleep " (A Yorkshire Tragedy) seem s to dictate an openin g tablea u behin d partin g curtains , an d s o I shoul d interpret it , bu t suc h anothe r directio n a s "Enter tw o wit h a table and banquet, and two other with Sli e asleep in a chair..." (Anon., Taming of a Shrew) create s a reasonable doubt. Table s furnished wit h banquets , bed s occupie d b y sleepers , eve n tombs to b e haunted via the trap, not t o mentio n mer e banks where th e wil d thym e grew , were , a s is easily demonstrable, carried o n an d of f th e stag e when occasio n required . Mino r items wer e ofte n transporte d b y th e actor s wh o wer e t o us e them: i n The Devil's Charter eve n s o augus t a personag e a s Lucrezia Borgi a i s required b y th e stag e directions to carr y in a chai r an d t o carr y it ou t agai n when i t ha s served it s lethal purpose. W e ma y assum e that thei r entourage relieve d king s of the necessity of transporting their own thrones. Since th e curtaine d reces s wa s sometime s use d fo r dumb shows an d tableau x vivants , probabl y lighte d b y torches , w e are apt t o seiz e upon i t an d associat e it wit h a pervasive spectacularity. Any unusua l use of galler y or reces s provides stage directions so much more stimulating than the monotonous succession o f "exits " an d "enters " tha t ther e i s a temptatio n t o generalize from them . Consequentl y th e suburb s of the Eliza bethan stage have received mor e emphasi s than the stage itself. The exten t o f the over-emphasis is suggested by the followin g figures. I n th e eighty-si x play s that I have mentioned a s pro viding the best guide to the staging, forty-eight requir e no use of the gallery, thirty-nin e n o use of enclosure whether o n or at the rea r of the stage , and twenty-fiv e n o us e of either galler y or enclosure . I n th e eighty-si x play s there i s a tota l o f 146 3 scenes, with a scene defined as a piece of continuous action set off b y a definitivel y cleare d stage . O f thes e onl y sixty-on e scenes require the use of the gallery, and only ninety the use of a

32 curtained reces s o r equivalen t stag e enclosure. I n othe r word s only a total of 151 scenes are involved, includin g many doubtful cases . In the remainin g 131 2 scenes the stagin g consisted o f actors enterin g upo n an d leavin g a n ope n platform , eithe r totally bar e or equipped incidentall y wit h a few seats , a table, a bed , a gibbet , a judgment bar , a raised throne, o r th e like . The exigencie s of the fable dictate d departures from the norm of simple platform playing, not the lure of the adjunct locations. It mus t no t b e forgotte n tha t eve n i n tha t smal l minorit y of scene s wher e somethin g othe r tha n th e ope n expans e o f platform wa s used , th e platfor m itsel f wa s als o used , an d s o frequently fo r th e mor e strikin g speeche s and action i n determinable cases that we are justified in concluding tha t it was so used in practically al l cases—including Tamburlaine's defianc e of the gods after the death of Zenocrate, Faustus' s evocation o f Mephistopheles an d descent int o Hell , the choice o f caskets in the lotter y fo r Portia' s hand , an d the final piteous overthro w of Romeo an d Juliet. No fals e impression will be conveyed b y the statement tha t nearly th e whole o f Elizabethan drama was staged upon a bare and level platform agains t a neutral back ground. An d i t i s not onl y th e pictoria l evidenc e alon e tha t sustains the evidence provided by the texts. The setting of plays evoked n o description s like th e setting of masks; the recorde d expenditures fo r stag e equipmen t ar e no t comparabl e i n amount t o the recorded expenditures for costumes; and the one inventory o f th e propertie s o f a playhous e tha t survive s is, considering that these properties served an extensive repertory, most remarkable for its meagreness. After m y painfu l researche s I fin d i t humblin g t o observ e that the practical implications of such finding s wer e know n t o Granville-Barker thirt y year s ago (Review of English Studies, 1925, p. 63): The play was acted upon a stage. The actors came on the stage and went off it. That wa s the basi s of the business. For the action certain "practicalities "

33 would b e needed.... But—thi s i s the point—thos e thing s existe d ad hoc only, and for the actors' convenience. The y had, so to speak, no rights and life o f their own.... The visio n o f the audienc e comprise d th e speakers and actors of the play, and such material things as by their use of them they brought t o a momentary life , a n apparent reality. Furthe r than that it di d not stray . Apar t fro m th e us e that inner , outer , an d uppe r stag e wer e momentarily put to they were nothing, they were artistically non-existent. And scen e afte r scen e migh t pas s wit h th e actor s movin g t o al l intent s merely o n th e curren t o f th e play' s stor y an d o f thei r ow n emotions ; unless, the spell broken, they were suddenl y and incongruously seen to b e on a stage.

There i s nothing i n thi s statemen t tha t I a m abl e t o amplif y or amend.

5 We mus t agree , I think, tha t th e kind o f staging the Elizabethans use d wa s best fo r th e kin d o f plays the y wrote . Th e seemliness of the relationships established by natural adaptation is scarcely open t o dispute . Shakespear e exercised t o th e limit the freedo m afforde d b y th e accepte d distinctio n betwee n th e theatrical image an d the dramatic vision . His stage would no t hold the vast y fields of France, but it s imperfections could b e pieced ou t wit h imagination . Titani a th e acto r woul d b e measurable i n fee t howeve r few , bu t Titani a i n th e visio n would b e measurabl e i n inches—"Th e cowslip s tall he r pen sioners be." Shakespear e seems to have been well enough satisfied. He wa s not mockin g Elizabetha n conventions an d techniques i n th e Pyramu s an d Thisb e scene s o f A MidsummerNight's Dream', h e wa s mockin g rathe r th e literal-mindednes s of naïve amateurs, wh o suppose d tha t becaus e moonlight an d walls were mentione d i n the script , moonlight an d walls must be shown. In fact he seems to have been mocking us. But i t i s one thing t o sa y that th e origina l stagin g was best for th e plays , anothe r thin g t o sa y w e shoul d duplicat e it . The dramati c visio n wither s i n a climate o f archaeology, an d

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one kind o f literal-mindedness ca n be as blighting as another. Compromise w e must, and our sole aim should be to compromise intelligently . W e shoul d tr y t o decid e wha t kin d o f modern staging will be least damaging to the plays. Modern stagin g implies the use of modern theatres . Modern theatres, unlik e th e Elizabethan , separat e th e stag e fro m th e auditorium. Ar e we defeated from the start? or are the virtues of the central position of the Elizabethan stage in some measure transferable? W e mus t decid e wha t thos e virtue s were . Th e most obvious was that the actors could b e seen and heard. W e should follo w thi s lea d withou t compromise . Ou r compan y must neve r perfor m excep t wher e th e actor s can be seen an d heard. I n mos t citie s ther e i s at leas t on e theatr e wher e th e acoustics are good an d the auditorium no t to o cavernous . N o other shoul d b e engaged . I f ther e ar e section s eve n i n thes e theatres wher e seein g and hearin g ar e difficult , n o ticket s t o these section s should b e sold. Peopl e ma y b e willing t o si t in them an d th e refusa l t o permi t i t ma y b e costly , bu t w e air e not reckonin g costs. Our ai m is rapport betwee n audience and play, an d there can be no rappor t i f the play reache s par t o f the audience only as a rumour. What wer e th e furthe r virtue s o f the positio n o f the stag e in th e mids t o f th e audience ? I hav e consulte d a numbe r o f professional producer s on the subject , principally advocates o f theatre-in-the-round, an d thei r repl y i s that a stag e in suc h a position induce s intimacy an d restore s the ritualisti c spiri t o f drama no w banishe d b y th e picture-fram e o r "peep-show " stage. Disconten t wit h th e moder n theatr e i s concentrated a t present upo n th e prosceniu m arch . Ou r mos t influentia l dramatic critic , Brook s Atkinson , long s fo r th e da y whe n i t will become obsolete; and at least one literary-minded psycho analyst equates the audience huddled in shadowy isolation from the play with th e modern fea r o f life an d impulse to retreat to the womb. These are deep waters.

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The exaltatio n o f the ope n stag e is historically an d perhaps theoretically justified. I t woul d b e goo d i f ou r theatr e wer e more aki n t o thos e o f th e Greek s and Elizabethan s just a s it would b e goo d i f ou r dramati c geniu s wer e mor e aki n t o theirs. But to say that one restores the ritualistic spirit of drama by usin g a certai n typ e o f theatr e i s like sayin g on e restore s religious fait h b y usin g a certai n typ e o f church . S o fa r a s intimacy i s concerned, i t i s highly questionabl e if it has much to d o wit h physica l proximity. Ther e are few places less intimate tha n th e lunch-counte r o r th e elevator-car . Intimac y is created b y a spiritual bond an d a sense of familiarity, and i t is now a s likely t o prevai l wher e ther e i s a proscenium arc h as where ther e i s not: man y eloquen t witnesse s have testifie d t o its genial presence in the old Shakespeare Memorial Theatre i n the day s of Sir Frank Benson. Advocates of the ope n stag e are none to o consisten t in their theor y an d practice . It i s modern lighting mor e tha n th e prosceniu m arch tha t create s aesthetic distance, and considerabl e ingenuity is being exercised to pre serve upo n th e experimenta l stage s conventiona l electrica l effects. The momen t th e house-lights g o off and the stage-lights go on, the open stage must abandon even its physical claims to being intimat e o r ritualistic . There are , i n effect , thre e trans parent walls instead of the usua l fourth, and on e sees the pla y from unusua l angles but not a s a participant: I personally have never felt mor e like a peeping-tom than in the theatres-in-the round. And with some of the more boisterous neo-Elizabethan stages, I have felt less that I was being drawn spiritually into the play than that the play was spilling out physically upon me. The fac t i s that moder n companie s and producers want th e means of enhancement o f the performance, the means of subduing th e audience to attention, provided b y modern facilitie s quite alie n t o th e natur e o f ancien t stages . I f th e objec t is t o approximate Elizabetha n conditions , i t coul d b e don e mor e nearly b y using a conventional theatr e and leaving th e house -

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lights on. I am not offerin g thi s as a solution, but am suggesting rather tha t w e canno t hav e th e cak e and the penny , an d tha t such intangibles as intimacy an d the spiri t of ritual are, in an y case, not recoverable by physical means. And even if the Globe with al l its ways could b e restored i n pristine purity, a s I wish it could, unfortunately it would not be portable and we do not want ou r Shakespearea n company tie d dow n t o a particula r site. W e mus t no t b e deterre d fro m usin g pFoscenium-arc h stages, not only because these are the kind available—a weighty consideration—but becaus e they offe r n o insuperabl e obstacle to preserving such values of the Elizabethan type of stage as are capable of being preserved. Providing we can see and hear, the position of the stage in the theatre is of less importance than the way the stage is used. It doe s not follo w tha t becaus e there i s a proscenium arch , an ornat e frame , ther e mus t b e an ornat e picture . A modern stage can be as neutral and stable as the Elizabethan stage. It is an erro r t o assum e that becaus e there wa s no fram e fo r th e original productions, ther e were no pictures. There were pic tures of course, but since they were composed almost solely by the figures o f the actors, they were free from distracting detail. This is the lead we should follow. We mus t provide the practicalities, but must not clutter the plays with competitive illustra tion—with object s havin g right s o f thei r ow n aggressivel y asserted. Individuals have been saying this for a long time, and the fac t tha t thei r word s hav e usually gon e unattende d i s no proof tha t the y ar e no t true . I t i s ofte n charge d tha t suc h purists do not really like the theatre, that they would prefer to read the plays, and so I feel oblige d to affir m a t this point that I personally love th e theatre , and lov e theatrica l scenery . The appearance o f Billy Budd o n Broadwa y fille d m y hear t wit h nostalgic delight; I revelled in the rocking ship and the beautifu l creaking of the spars. Musical comedy in all its garish splendour is my favourite form of modern drama, and I am devoted to the

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films. But Shakespearea n drama is another matter, not becaus e it is in any way sacrosanct but because of all that was implied in the initial portion of the present discussion. When Benedick says, "Bring i t hither to me in the orchard, " Shakespeare was not writin g redundantly , but a n orchard setting will render the writing redundant. And that pleached bower Where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter

will los e it s forc e a s a n evocativ e imag e an d becom e onl y another redundancy . Th e injur y i s no t exclusivel y o r eve n primarily t o suc h descriptive passages, but , in way s that def y analysis, to the whole texture of the work. These are plays of a peculiarly ful l utteranc e adapted to , an d onl y to , a peculiarly spare setting. To listen to Shakespeare creating Rome in a Rome already created scenically is to listen to two person s speaking at once. I t is not simpl y a matter of painting the lily, gildin g the rose, but o f intrusion and obscuration such as in all other forms of artistic activity is recognized as intolerable. I n this particular variety o f drama the actio n and speec h give us as much as we need an d ar e abl e t o assimilate . Anythin g mor e constitute s assault, and the bette r the décor—th e mor e lovely and rich— the more grievou s the assault. In art even more than elsewher e mere accretio n i s unrewarding, an d th e unio n o f tw o goo d things ma y produc e somethin g not twic e a s good bu t hal f as good as either. There is nothing abou t a stable and neutral stage that would strike a modern audienc e as odd o r archaeological . We hav e become accustomed to the non-decoratively functional; in fact it is quite modern. The stag e should be opened u p t o it s widest and deepes t extent , an d it s arrangemen t shoul d remai n sub stantially the same throughout th e performance of a play. Th e arrangement shoul d supply , harmoniously an d unobtrusively , the facilitie s o f th e Elizabetha n stag e withou t imitatin g tha t

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stage or anything else in particular. Access from the wings will serve bette r tha n rea r doors , an d smal l balconie s nea r th e proscenium pillars better than a rear gallery. Sinc e the play will be viewed a t stag e level b y thos e in th e orchestr a seats , who, unlike thos e in th e yar d o f th e ol d amphitheatres , hav e pai d more than the minimum fee , something mus t be done to pre vent the masking of players in scenes where many assemble. A stepped-up ris e of two o r three feet i n the rear half of the platform will do, and there need be no architectural elaboration . Last yea r I sa w Richard II performe d upo n a proscenium arch stag e arranged i n approximatel y th e manne r described . Any othe r o f Shakespeare' s plays coul d hav e bee n performed upon it . Th e theatr e was the Palai s d e Chaillot an d the com pany wa s the Théâtr e Nationa l Populaire . I t i s with chagri n that I say that, i n a year spen t largely in seekin g out effectiv e Shakespearean staging , I foun d th e bes t i n Paris , wher e th e text had been redacted into wretched French prose, and where the director, alone of all those to whom I applied, had failed t o dignify m y inquirie s with a n answer . The fac t remain s tha t the staging so intelligently subserve d the play as to mak e most of th e othe r production s I ha d observe d see m somewha t amateurish. Th e actor s move d trul y o n th e curren t o f th e play an d thei r ow n emotions , an d wer e no t "incongruousl y seen t o b e o n a stage. " Th e facilitie s struc k on e a s neithe r old no r ne w becaus e the y scarcel y struc k on e a t all . Properties wer e move d o n an d of f th e platfor m durin g brie f intervals of darkness between the nineteen "tableaux," an d even this smal l concessio n t o plausibilit y wa s superfluous : th e objects were so simple and slight that they could have remained on the stage, or been brought on and off by the actors with the stage in constant light. There wa s nothing barren , meagre, o r colourless abou t th e theatrica l image . Colou r an d splendou r were supplie d by th e costume s of the actor s and th e banner s they sometime s bore , whil e th e grouping s forme d visuall y

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satisfying a s well a s significant patterns . Whe n livin g figure s are the onl y meaningfu l symbols, one realizes what poignanc y may attach to the mere position of such a symbol placed apar t or alone. About a quarter of a century ago the Shakespear e Memoria l Company the n unde r th e directio n o f Bridges-Adam s mad e several tour s o f America , an d it s performanc e o f King Lear disproved th e contentio n tha t thi s traged y i s unsuited t o an y stage. Th e setting , consistin g o f little mor e tha n backgroun d drapery, wa s remarked upo n fo r it s simplicity. M y tribut e t o the settin g i s that I hav e n o recollectio n o f it apar t fro m th e comments i n th e reviews . M y remembranc e i s of Lea r him self, out-scornin g the to-and-fro conflictin g wind an d rain in a storm s o cruel that it could no t hav e been produced b y mechanical means ; whatever th e stag e effects, the y mus t have been subordinated an d the sublimity of the poetry allowed t o create the scene. Fears that performance s in a plain and inconspicuous setting would themselve s b e plai n an d inconspicuou s deriv e fro m a failure to think thing s through. Contras t itsel f is dramatic, an d we ar e denyin g th e performer s nothin g s o fa r a s their ow n persons are concerned. Thei r make-u p ca n be the bes t moder n skill ca n devise , an d thei r costume s opulent an d "theatrical. " Whatever focusses attention upon the players themselves may be accepted a s good. My ow n feelin g i s that the stage-lightin g o f poetic dram a shoul d b e les s hypnotic , tha t i s less intens e an d variable, than stage-lighting usually is, but I have no convictions in the matter. We need not be narrowly prescriptive even about the scene. When As You Like It is performed, a tree on the stage will serv e bette r tha n th e reproductio n o f a Swa n pillar , bu t let it be just a tree and not suc h a one as might have borne the golden apple s in the Hesperides , and le t ther e b e not s o many that w e canno t se e the pla y fo r th e forest . W e shal l simpl y assume tha t th e stag e technician s are anxiou s t o d o n o mor e

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than i s necessary, that the y realiz e thi s is not thei r sho w an d there is less danger in under-exercising tha n in over-exercisin g their variou s mysteries. This means, of course, that they must be technicians of the finest and rarest sort. So long as we recognize the nature of the aesthetic problem, posed by the kind of plays these are, and so long as we assume a reasonable degre e o f sensibilit y i n th e audience , th e righ t staging wil l b e attainable . I t nee d no t awai t a revolutio n i n theatrical architecture, or be confined to thos e few immovabl e structures whic h now , o r ma y someday , exist . Th e greate r challenge remains—th e prope r dispositio n upo n th e stag e o f the speech and action that constitute the play.

III. ELIZABETHA N GUIDANC E IN TH E PRESENTATIO N

I

N THE CONCLUSION OF HIS EXCELLENT BOOK

on the Globe Playhouse, Mr. C. Walter Hodge s admits to moments o f fear tha t h e migh t b e a little disappointed i f carrie d back fo r a n actua l visit . Hi s uneasines s i s understandable . Elizabethan plays show elements of, what shall we say—primitiveness, carelessness, improvisation? Elizabethan techniques of presentation mus t have shown simila r elements. How danger ous will it be to refine upon our notions of the quality of those techniques? This much , I think , ma y b e said : whatever thei r defects, th e plays at their best were very good, an d it seems at least possible that th e presentatio n a t it s best was correspondingly good ; an y evidenc e t o tha t effec t mus t b e viewe d a s admissible. Here we are confronted with an odd phenomenon . Historical perspective enables us to see that in the late sixteenth and earl y seventeent h centur y Englis h drama , whateve r it s merits an d defects , wa s th e bes t bein g create d anywher e i n Europe. The Englis h di d not insis t on the fact , indee d seemed none too awar e of it, but the y did insist—and foreigners were inclined t o agre e wit h them—tha t thei r theatre s an d actor s were the best. Curiously, ou r timid hypothesis that the presen tation wa s worth y o f th e play s i s mor e tha n sustaine d b y Elizabethan testimony .

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The actor s wer e craftsme n o f th e theatre , an d i t ma y b e well t o reflec t fo r a momen t upo n th e virtue s o f ancien t craftsmanship. A s we examine an Elizabethan book, we notice many imperfections—fault y pagination , careles s proofreading, impression from worn type o r mixe d fonts , similar problem s of composition tackle d differently a t different point s in happy go-lucky fashion . -The Englis h printer s had th e lowes t stand ards in Europe, an d this is a poor piec e of work. Still , ther e is something goo d about it. The ink is still black, the paper flexible, the stitching secure—as if the faulty craftsmen responsible for thi s particular boo k ha d been shored-up b y the craf t itself, by the good materials it had created and they had inadvertentl y used. And th e letterpress at least has personality. This i s a book, not a slickly tooled artifact; it both was and seems to be something shape d b y huma n hand s i n answe r t o huma n needs . This personality in the product, th e mark o f the human intercessor, canno t b e reckone d a virtu e i n ol d printin g withou t exalting ol d actin g sinc e acting i s so purely a craf t o f huma n intercession. The actor' s craf t i n Englan d wa s olde r tha n th e printer's and must have evolved somethin g equivalent to goo d ink, paper , and stitching. The English actors, unlike the printers, wer e th e bes t o f their craf t i n Europe , an d Shakespeare' s plays were presented by the best of the English actors. In th e firs t foli o collectio n o f Shakespear e there i s a list o f "the principa l actor s i n al l thes e plays"—tha t is , th e actor sharers a s distinct fro m th e hirelings , th e compan y member s associated in any given year as a group o f eight or ten master craftsmen. Althoug h th e compan y ha d existe d fo r thre e de cades onl y twenty-si x name s appea r i n th e list . Th e stabilit y indicated b y this minimal turnove r i s rare in the world o f th e theatre. Sinc e membershi p i n thi s compan y wa s th e highes t award fo r reliabilit y an d skil l tha t th e ag e coul d offer , sinc e there were many to compete for the award, and since standards of excellence had existed for over a century, it seems more than

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likely tha t th e origina l presenter s o f Shakespear e wer e abl e indeed, an d tha t w e hav e somethin g t o lear n fro m th e tech niques they inherited and evolved. What we can learn will not be , of course, a particular styl e of acting , an d th e questio n o f styl e nee d no t b e extensivel y considered. I n A Warning for Fair Women, acte d b y Shake speare's company a t about the same time as As You Like it and Julius Caesar, a n actor make s an entrance upo n th e followin g stage direction: "Her e enters Browne speaking , in casting one side o f his cloak unde r hi s arm. . . ." Hi s "speaking" begin s with the following lines : This way he should come, and a fitter place The town affords not; 'tis his nearest way And 'tis so late he will not go about. Then stand close, George, and with a lucky arm Sluice out his life....

We se e now tha t th e acto r wa s to cas t "on e sid e of his cloa k under his arm" s o as to bare his sword hilt and thus prove him self inten t upo n murder . I t i s a gestur e w e migh t suppos e h e could hav e bee n trusted t o thin k u p for himself; probably th e playwright wa s merely visualizing . Such directions ar e exceptional, bu t enough occu r bot h i n printed text s and in promptbooks t o provid e a n ample list , and th e indicated gesture s are in general , lik e th e above , broa d an d ver y obvious . I t i s m y opinion tha t we can determine somethin g about the style of the acting from such data, but little about it s quality and effective ness. I onc e undertook , a s a sor t of academi c jeu d'esprit* t o define th e formal nature o f Elizabethan acting , intendin g onl y to giv e paus e to thos e wh o though t tha t Shakespeare' s vers e should b e spoke n a s conversational prose . A s a perso n wh o distrusts "schools" and has never aspire d to found one , I hav e since been disturbe d t o hea r the article describe d as a bulwar k of the "formalists. " I n the context of any discussion of actin g *Thc more factual portion of this appears in Appendix B.

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styles o f th e past , as in a n analysi s of Hamle t s advice t o th e players, th e term s "formal " an d "natural " ar e apt t o b e mis leading. Goo d actin g i s always the same , i n tha t i t employ s persuasively th e curren t convention s whateve r the y ma y be . Since the exact nature of past conventions is irrecoverably lost, and sinc e we coul d no t us e the knowledg e eve n if we ha d it , there i s n o us e lingerin g o n th e subject . Certai n skill s an d attitudes whic h accompanie d th e Elizabetha n styl e hav e meaning for us and will be mentioned later on.

2 The actor s were their own producers and directors, and we had bes t begi n with a n examinatio n o f th e kin d o f composi tions they essayed to transfer from script to stage. The eighty six plays previously mentioned a s providing th e mos t reliabl e sampling var y greatl y i n length , fro m th e brie f Yorkshire Tragedy t o th e length y Hamlet an d Be n Jonson's trul y prodi gious Every Man out of his Humour. Th e averag e length , th e mean length , an d th e lengt h o f greates t occurrenc e o f th e eighty-six all fall within a range of 19,000 to 22,500 words, but the ascent is so gradual between such widely divergen t lengths as 12,00 0 words an d 27,00 0 words that i t i s impossible to sa y that there was any fixed standard. It has been suggested that all the longer text s must have bee n cut in performance, and tha t all the shorter one s are defective or unrepresentative, but ther e is no rea l evidence that suc h is the case . The five texts that ar e longer tha n 27,000 words are by Shakespear e or Jonson. Every Man out of his Humour actually was shorter in performance, and the other s may have been also, but i t seems doubtful that th e plays of Shakespeare and Jonson wer e habitually cut. Probably they wrot e a t lengt h bot h becaus e they wrot e con amore an d because audiences were willin g t o listen to them , o r to one of them at least, longer than to other men.

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If there was no standard length o f play, i t follows that ther e was no standard duration o f performances. The duration mos t frequently mentioned in Elizabethan times is two hours, and we may i f w e wis h tak e th e text-lengt h o f greates t occurrence , 22,500 words , an d sa y that th e Elizabethan s performe d suc h plays in two hours . But thi s is risky business, and it remains so even if we link the two hour s with th e shorter mean length o r still shorter average length. I t seems more reasonable to assume that the two hours so often mentione d wa s only a round num ber, especially since two an d a half hours or more are occasionally als o mentioned . Unfortunatel y w e hav e n o recor d o f a timed performance o f any particular text . We know that time was found at the end of at least some performances for a farcical dance or jig, and we also know that performances began about two i n the afternoo n an d must have ende d befor e four-thirt y during th e shor t day s o f mid-winte r unles s th e concludin g action wa s illuminated b y torches . Tha t i t wa s so illuminated is quite possible, since there are contemporary hint s of amphitheatre performances even at night. It is conceivable tha t Elizabethan actors spoke at the rat e o f 185 words a minute an d presented a 22,5oo-word pla y in tw o hours, but it seems most unlikely. The philological experts are unable t o tel l us whether, a t any time i n the past, the norma l rate of spoken English was faster o r slower than at present, and the mer e fac t tha t Elizabetha n script s provide d mor e speec h than do modern script s does not prove that the rate of delivery was then mor e rapid . Upon a non-scenic stag e the speakin g is bound t o b e mor e continuou s eve n althoug h n o mor e rapi d than upo n a sceni c stage . Upo n th e forme r th e acto r mus t speak to establish the setting, whereas upon th e latter the actor must sometimes be silent in order to render organi c the setting established b y visua l means; putting i t crudely , tim e mus t b e spent i n dusting the furniture and dialing th e phone. Tha t the verbal elemen t i n dram a decrease s as th e visua l elemen t in -

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creases is illustrated by any film scenario. William Poel and his successors have, in this department, proceede d upo n ver y un certain evidence , an d the rumou r o f the spee d of Elizabethan stage speec h has done mor e har m tha n good . Wherea s nine teenth-century actor s delivered th e lines too slowly , afte r cut ting the text to the bone, twentieth-century actor s are delivering th e line s to o rapidl y fo r ou r comfor t o r understanding . Even i f we kne w tha t th e Elizabethans spoke very rapidly, as we certainl y d o not , i t woul d b e a s unwise t o imitat e thei r speed as to imitat e their pronunciation. More significan t to us than the length o f the original texts is the length of individual speeches withi n thos e texts . Thes e sugges t tha t th e actor s enjoyed speaking ; their eye s must hav e glittere d a s the lon g patches o f vers e appeare d i n th e scripts . Sinc e thes e ar e th e scripts the y accepted , the y mus t hav e rendere d th e speeche s with relis h and rendered them as verse. Modern actors tend t o flinch whe n the y com e t o th e lon g speeches , eithe r because they want more leisure for acting, or becaus e they are touche d with th e modern notio n tha t all but th e inarticulate are insincere. Ou r searc h fo r suggestio n has no t gon e wholl y unre warded eve n at this early point: our actors should speak at th e rate normal t o the m an d intelligible t o us , and should delive r the lines with relish and deliver them as verse. Whatever th e tempo o f the speech, the performance should move rapidly . I t i s now recognize d that ther e should b e little loss of time in the successio n o f episodes, and Poel' s influenc e here has been truly benign, but we have still something to learn from th e Elizabetha n precedent . Th e vexe d proble m o f whether ther e wer e o r were no t interval s in the original per formances i s not insoluble . At the small private theatres which provided th e élite wit h a plac e o f refug e fro m th e popula r amphitheatres wit h whic h w e ar e coarsel y concerned , ther e were certainl y intervals . O f th e fift y privat e playhous e text s acted and printed within ou r test-period , 157 6 to 1608 , forty -

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eight ar e divided int o act s an d onl y tw o ar e undivided . Th e mere division of a text into acts, even when the points of division are marked by choral spokesmen, dumbshows, or divertissement, does not i n itself prove that there were intervals in per formance. Th e anachronisti c assumption that ac t division pre dicates intervals has confused the issu e even in the discussion in the learne d journals. However , the mentio n o f entr'acte music at th e privat e theatres , both i n contemporar y allusion s and i n several of the texts, indicates that the act divisions marked in the forty-eight play s meant interval s in the performances, and w e have a point o f departure for a n analysi s of the amphitheatr e texts. Of the eighty-six play s acted and printed betwee n 157 6 and 1608 onl y thirtee n ar e divide d int o acts , mostly b y th e earl y university wit s o r Be n Jonson, whil e th e remainin g seventy three, includin g all seventeen by Shakespeare , show no formal division whatever . Chora l spokesme n sometime s appear , bu t with suc h irregularit y a s to indicat e that the y ar e being used, in Dekker's words, "no t whe n th e law s o f poesy do call , bu t as the stor y needs " (Prologue , Old Fortunatos). Eve n i n thos e thirteen play s wher e ac t divisio n appears , th e author s see m sometimes only t o hav e been asserting their academi c respect ability. Jonson i n his Sejanus, mos t consciously "academic" o f the plays written for the popular stage, calls for music between the acts ; but hi s Every Man out of his Humour, als o divided int o acts, demonstrate s tha t th e autho r contemplate d performanc e without intervals : th e chora l spokesme n a t th e ac t division s discuss th e exi t an d re-entranc e o f th e character s in precisel y the same way as they do at the scene divisions. In the 160 0 quarto of A Midsummer-Night's Dream, there are no ac t divisions. I n th e foli o tex t o f 162 3 ther e are such divisions, an d a t th e en d o f Ac t II I occur s th e stag e direction , "They sleep all the act." "They " refers to the four lovers lying dispersed on the stage , and "act " t o a n act-interval. Th e mos t

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logical explanation is that sometime after 160 8 when the King's Company acquire d th e Blackfriar s "private " playhous e fo r winter use , musica l interval s wer e interpolate d int o perfor mances o f a pla y tha t ha d bee n constructe d fo r continuou s presentation. Of the seven extant "plots" or production guides, one has cross-hatched lines at four points with directions calling for music , indicating that, fo r th e performanc e i n view, ther e were t o b e five acts divided b y intervals. This guid e prove s a rule, becaus e the othe r si x provide fo r n o intervals . Finally , when Shakespeare' s compan y appropriate d Marston' s The Malcontent fro m the repertory o f one of the private playhouses, the text was expanded, as Burbage tells us in the Induction, i n order "t o entertai n a little more time , an d to abridge the not received custom of music in our theatre." This is direct information suc h as we receiv e al l too rarel y fro m th e origina l pre senters, to th e effec t tha t th e performanc e o n thi s occasion, as normally with this company, was to be without intervals . To m e th e proo f seem s overwhelmin g tha t th e play s o f Shakespeare wer e performed , an d writte n t o b e performed , continuously fro m beginnin g t o en d i n th e fashio n o f ou r motion pictures . Th e poin t i s worth labourin g fo r i t ha s im portant aestheti c implications. Earlie r w e aske d wher e Bene dick hid an d were abl e to sugges t an answer. I f we had asked why he hid, we would have had more difficulty. H e is supplied no motive, bu t seems simply to hide for the convenience of the plot. But immediatel y after , Beatric e is provided a motive fo r hiding unde r identica l circumstances , an d th e effec t o f th e provision is, so to speak , retroactive. Th e effec t woul d b e lost, however, i f a n interva l occurre d betwee n th e tw o scene s as dictated b y th e ac t divisio n inserte d betwee n the m i n al l editions excep t th e origina l one . Man y othe r instance s of th e interaction of contiguous scenes might b e offered. Thes e plays proceed on a plane of emotional truth but factual implausibility, and it is the rapid continuousnes s of the actio n tha t articulate s

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it an d help s t o mak e effectua l th e conventions . Thes e play s should no t b e pondere d piecemeal . Further , thei r emotiona l effect i s greatest if the impact is cumulative and single, with th e poet i n constan t contro l o f th e audienc e an d governin g it s responses. I shall return t o th e poin t i n a moment afte r raisin g a related question. It doe s no t follo w that , becaus e ther e wer e n o intervals , there wer e n o pauses . Pauses ca n b e effectiv e i n an y kin d o f discourse, an d i n dramati c discourse they ca n have expositor y utility. I believe that at those moments—on an average of six teen t o a play — whe n th e stag e wa s completel y cleare d t o indicate a shif t i n time an d place , ther e wa s a signal of such a shift in a perceptible pause, even when no properties wer e to be moved o n o r of f the platform; and that thi s is the significance of th e straigh t lines punctuating thos e point s wher e th e stag e is clea r i n al l seve n productio n guides , an d o f th e us e o f th e word "clear" between scenes in one of the later prompt-books. The pause need not have been long. I f I were t o pause now fo r fifteen seconds , you would see that i t is a considerable period— sufficient i n a Shakespearea n performance, i f not i n a lecture , to stimulat e expectatio n withou t releasin g attention , a s well as t o suppl y a recognize d signa l o f shiftin g tim e an d place . When th e stag e wa s cleare d withi n a scene , a s between suc cessive encounter s o n a battlefield, there woul d hav e bee n n o pause. Suc h punctuatio n o f scene s would hav e extende d th e average performance no more than four minutes. It i s quit e possibl e tha t moder n productions , i n insertin g intervals an d i n tryin g t o eliminat e pause s betwee n th e inter vals, are reversing Elizabetha n procedure. W e shoul d hav e n o grounds fo r complain t i f there wer e n o il l consequences, bu t I believe that there ar e such consequences. The anxiety to eliminate pauses between th e scene s results in divertingly ingeniou s methods o f altering settings , while th e actors in the new scen e almost step on the heels of those in the preceding one . That the

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scenes should not b e sharply defined has even been elevated t o an aesthetic principle, but the practical effects are often huddle d and confusing . Th e il l consequences of th e interval s are eve n more obvious. In timing a number of professional performances of Elizabethan plays during th e pas t few seasons, I have found that th e actual playing tim e varie d from a little les s than tw o hours for Massinger' s A New Way to Pay Old Debts t o a little more than three hours for a Hamlet moderately cut. There were in addition usually two intervals often o r twelve minutes each. These see m to hav e been inserted o n the principl e tha t seein g the pla y woul d prov e a n exhaustin g experience , an d th e greatest deman d coul d b e mad e upo n spectator s whil e th e evening wa s young and they were still fresh. Usually there was quite a long segment first, followed b y two muc h shorter one s after intervals. The effect was to dissipate illusion, and to reduce the totalit y o f impressio n an d emotiona l impac t o f th e play . The injury was especially apparent in the third shor t period o f playing; afte r th e let-dow n o f th e secon d interva l i t wa s virtually impossibl e in the short time remainin g t o restor e the mood and tempo proper to the conclusion. One ma y suppos e that , i n practice , th e interva l proble m resolves itself into how long the English spectator can do without a cup of tea and the American without a cigarette, but such is no t reall y th e case . Th e majorit y o f spectator s indulge i n neither deligh t but merely wait for the play to resume. At the motion pictures audiences tolerate continuous performances and bear u p remarkabl y wel l eve n a t doubl e features . I n th e cas e of th e shorte r Shakespearea n plays it migh t prov e physicall y endurable a s well as artistically desirable to imitat e th e Eliza bethan metho d an d presen t th e play s wit h suc h inter-scen e pauses a s I hav e mentione d bu t withou t intervals . Fo r th e longer plays , perhap s fo r all , ther e migh t b e a singl e brie f interval a t a n earl y poin t i n th e performanc e s o that a t least the heart o f the drama an d its culmination woul d com e t o us

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intact. Fo r th e singl e arbitrar y interva l ther e i s no preceden t suggested b y Elizabetha n evidence , bu t ther e ar e a fe w in stances among the earlier interludes.

3 I should lik e no w t o spea k o f the guidanc e supplie d b y th e original metho d o f stagin g battles , and—wit h apologie s fo r the invidiou s juxtaposition—the origina l convention s govern ing th e stag e conduct o f the women an d the fools. On e mus t be selective, and my selectio n of these three topics is the result of my observatio n o f the areas of production tha t prov e mos t troublesome on the modern stage. Sidney's satirica l allusio n t o th e armie s "represente d wit h four swords and bucklers," Jonson's to the "three rusty swords," and Shakespeare' s own well-know n lament creat e the impres sion that th e origina l stagin g of battles was a sorry makeshift: And so our scene must to the battle fly Where (O for pity !) we shall much disgrace With four or five most vile and ragged foils , Right ill-dispos'd in brawl ridiculous, The name of Agincourt.

But th e compan y stagin g Henry V woul d hav e availabl e a score o f quit e goo d foils , an d actor s who kne w ho w t o us e them; w e mus t no t rea d th e deprecator y word s to o literally . What i s indicate d b y suc h allusion s i s a n awarenes s of th e danger o f ludicrousness of effect , an d w e ca n be sure that th e better companie s avoided the "brawl ridiculous." Ye t they did represent battles , and w e mus t follo w sui t o r els e distort th e plays. Productions o f Coriolanus that omi t th e displa y of military prowes s a t Coriol e s o tip th e scale s against the talkativ e patrician that he is converted int o somethin g dangerously lik e a stuffed-toga . The technique s whic h th e Elizabetha n presenter s devise d

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recognized th e impossibilit y o f creatin g a n illusio n o f mas s combat b y visua l means . The audienc e did no t se e the battles so much as hear them. What it saw was displays of skill by tw o or occasionall y fou r combatant s o n tha t smal l secto r o f th e battlefield symbolize d b y th e stage . Often i t di d no t se e even that. W e thin k o f Marlowe' s Tamburlaine a s a successio n of mighty battles . Hostil e group s ar e constantl y enterin g wit h drums an d trumpet s t o confron t eac h othe r upo n th e stage , whereupon com e alarm s t o comba t followe d b y gloatin g speeches an d th e displa y o f disarme d captives . Bu t th e stag e directions mak e it clea r that entrance s to battl e are exits from the stage . The onl y militar y actio n really displayed in the first five act s is Tamburlaine's pursui t of Bajazeth acros s the stage, and in the secon d five acts an ascent to an d exit fro m the rea r gallery localized as the walls of Babylon. Thi s storming o f the tire-house i s a less common "effect " tha n on e migh t suppose , and Shakespear e himself rarel y employ s i t i n hi s late r plays . King Henr y a t Harfleu r exhort s hi s follower s t o bea r thei r scaling ladders once more unt o the breach or close the wall u p with thei r Englis h dead , bu t sinc e the enem y French , unlik e Marlowe's Babylonians , have at this point made no appearance above, th e audienc e doubtles s saw onl y th e departur e o f th e scaling forces through the exits at stage level. Visual displays of mass fightin g occu r onl y a fe w time s i n al l o f Shakespeare' s English, Greek , an d Roma n battles , an d the y see m t o hav e consisted of little more than the "beating back" of a momentary debouchment through the doors at the rear of the stage. Modern director s shoul d rea d mor e literall y th e stag e direction "Alarm s an d Excursions." Th e Alarms wer e sound effects backstage : a gong insistently clanging, trumpets blaring recognizable militar y signals , then stee l clashing, ordnance fir ing. Th e Excursions wer e individua l pursuit s an d combat s onstage. Involved wer e th e principal personages, Tamburlain e and Bajazeth , Ha l an d Hotspur, Troilu s and Diomede, and so it shoul d b e even whe n th e combatant s ar e not particularize d

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in th e stag e directions. I n th e recen t productio n o f King John at th e Ol d Vic , th e battl e o f Angiers was represented b y th e usual patterne d an d somewha t embarrassin g manoeuvre s o f supers. Falconbridg e appeare d occasionall y bu t di d nothin g meaningful, an d whe n h e finall y emerge d bearin g Austria's dissevered head, the audience did not quite succeed in suppressing it s laughter . Th e battl e ha d bee n s o wel l behave d an d Falconbridge had carried himself through i t with such patronizing aplomb that the head of Austria seemed more plausible as a prize in a raffle than as a trophy of war. The origina l actor s wer e traine d athlete s an d swordsmen . It is easier to use a weapon with lethal skill than to seem to d o so, an d th e firs t ar t mus t b e acquire d first . W e ar e no t th e connoisseurs o f swordpla y that the Elizabethans were, but th e petulant honin g o f th e blade s does not impres s even us , an d when anythin g mor e i s attempte d w e fee l les s elatio n tha n anxiety: it seems less likely that Austria is about to be slain than that a n actor i s about to b e hurt. On e migh t suppos e that th e greater "resources " o f th e sceni c stage would allo w o f mor e convincing battle s tha n wer e possibl e a t th e Globe , bu t i n practice suc h prove s no t t o b e th e case . I t woul d b e well t o imitate th e greate r simplicit y and greate r complexit y o f th e Elizabethan solution, with its small demand upon the stage, its large demand upon the versatile actor.

4 The efficac y o f actor-trainin g i n th e origina l craftsme n troupes is in no way better illustrated than by the success of the older apprentice s i n actin g feminin e roles . Wome n ar e im mensely importan t i n Shakespeare' s imaginative world , bu t we notice tha t they exercise their influenc e throug h relativel y few representatives . There ar e rarely mor e tha n tw o o r thre e women amon g th e dramatis personae althoug h th e numbe r o f men wil l ofte n excee d twenty . Th e heroine s ar e commonl y

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provided wit h father s bu t no t wit h mothers , an d th e fac t ha s been given considerable significance in studies of Shakespeare's fixations, bu t th e explanatio n i s less mystical . A t n o on e tim e would a company have boys at the right stage of physical and professional developmen t t o perfor m adequatel y th e part s o f more tha n Portia, Jessica, and Nerissa, or of Cordelia, Goneril , and Regan . Unde r th e circumstance s it wa s providential tha t Portia wa s an orphan, an d that Shylock , Lear, and Glouceste r could mos t effectively appea r as widowers. Ther e were always enough boy s t o pla y th e part s o f boy s (an d w e ma y notic e that small girls are almost non-existent in Elizabethan drama) , or o f pages , pigmies, o r th e member s o f Titania' s train , bu t these were the young beginners. To play the part of a woman, the young actor had to be near the end of his period o f training as well as unusually gifted. We hav e a sketch of such a youth in Malvolio's descriptio n o f Viola , convenientl y disguise d a s a page: "Not ye t old enough for a man nor young enough for a boy; as ... a codling whe n 'ti s almos t an apple. 'Ti s wit h him in standing water betwee n bo y and man." Tha t the scarcity of feminine role s is due t o th e scarcit y of qualified youths rathe r than t o a sense of their inadequac y is proved b y th e nature o f such role s a s occur . The Merchant of Venice migh t wel l hav e been titled "Th e Lad y of Belmont" since Portia is its unifying figure and is assigned the greatest number of lines; and although the Serpent of Old Nile quails at the thought o f some "squeaking Cleopatra" among the quick comedians, Shakespeare himself seems to have been willing t o let a young associate "boy " her greatness in a terribly exacting role. The fac t that only to a few morbidl y suggestibl e fanatic s di d th e femal e imperson ations sugges t the sinfu l an d pervers e i s a tribute alik e t o th e healthy-mindedness of the audience s and to th e abilit y o f the actors to make a virtue of necessity. When w e assig n th e role s o f Portia , Viola , Cleopatr a t o women instea d of youths, as now w e should, we must respect

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the theatrica l intelligenc e o f th e Elizabethans . Th e fac t tha t the role s were t o b e fille d i n suc h a way, a s well a s a sense of public decorum, resulte d in a kind of emphasis in the presenta tion that was written int o the lines. Its nature—the stress upon personality and character rather than upon physique—has been analysed b y tw o ver y observan t critics , Harle y Granville Barker an d Elmer Edga r Stoll . Their approac h t o th e subject was widely divergen t bu t the y cam e to identica l conclusions , that eve n i n th e lov e scene s th e implie d actio n preclude d amorous embrace s o r display s o f sexua l allure . Mor e actua l caresses are indicated in Antony and Cleopatra than in any othe r play, bu t the y ar e stil l astonishingl y rare , an d eve n th e mos t casual reader must have observed that the seductive charms of the enchantress are stressed only when she is not in view. Someone said a long time ago that pretty women had ruined the Englis h stage . W e mus t indignantl y den y thi s har d im peachment, ye t concede tha t pretty women have often helpe d to ruin Shakespeare upon that stage. By aggressively exploiting their physica l charm , the y ca n b e just a s irrelevant an d dis tracting as other forms of scenery. A few years back the critica l appreciation o f a Broadwa y productio n o f As You Like It concerned itsel f almost exclusively with Rosalind's legs, which competed wit h th e play in about the same measure as the vast tree-roots over whic h the y stumbled. In one of her early films the actres s who triumphe d i n thi s peculia r wa y ha d wor n a prim part y dress and, mounting a living-room stairway, shyly spoken the balcon y speeches of Juliet. The effec t wa s beautifu l and moving . Rosalin d i s different fro m Juliet, bu t no t i n th e way that excited th e reviewers. Presen t styles in feminine stage deportment d o no t fi t Shakespeare . I n traged y i t i s mor e likely to b e the women than the men who tea r the passion to tatters. Lady Macbeth is a fierce inciter to evil, but what makes her s o memorable i s that sh e is also a solicitous wife; she was never designed to rend the air with the full-throated wail s of a

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Medea, an d fo r a bo y i t woul d hav e bee n impossible . Cleo patra's physica l allure , lik e Antony' s warlik e prowess , i s represented i n twilight , an d al l the "business " suggestin g the seraglio is indescribably clumsy. We are too apt to think of our ways as urbane, those o f the Elizabethan s as uncouth, bu t th e Shakespearean company coul d teac h us urbanity in presenting the symbol s o f womanhood . Wha t w e hav e t o lear n fro m them her e i s the lesso n of restraint . 5

And now fo r on e of the touchiest problems o f all. When I maintain i n dispute s with th e sceptica l that a Shakespearean play o n ou r stag e might stil l prov e vita l i n all its parts, I am often pinne d t o the wall with the question, "Do yo u think the jokes are funny?" To this I always reply that we know whethe r jokes ar e funn y onl y b y whethe r w e laugh . Thi s i s no t a n evasion. Th e natur e o f th e comica l varies with th e occasion , and i s of on e kind on e place , of another kind someplac e else. What i s laughable in the circu s tent woul d b e a nuisance and bore in the home. What is so amusing in the pages of the New Yorker, thos e shots at sitting pheasants filling out th e columns , even th e delightfu l cartoons, need thei r ow n environmen t a s well a s their ow n precis e form. They see m to sicke n and di e in a war m an d gregariou s atmosphere wher e anima l spirit s flow, an d i f on e trie s t o ad d t o th e merrimen t o f a festiv e gathering b y describin g even the cleverest , he will watc h hi s words lie withering i n the unresponsive air. Reviewers should recognize these truths before generalizin g about Shakespeare's "deplorable clowns." Some o f Shakespeare' s humour i s of suc h universal appea l that i t is production-proof an d need not her e concern us . The difficulty enter s wit h th e routin e punning an d chop-logi c o f the professional fools. We sometime s defend it Upon historica l grounds, citin g the Elizabethan fascination with languag e and

57 verbal gymnastics, but no amount of learned apology can save the line s from fallin g flat, and I am inclined t o thin k tha t th e defence is wrongly based. Shakespeare's word-play is infinitely more subtl e an d swif t i n hi s poetic passages than i n thos e h e writes for the clowns, and it seems reasonable to conclude that the ai r o f ponderou s displa y that s o ofte n mark s the latte r i s owing t o consciou s design. The humou r supplie d th e clown s had t o sor t wit h th e wooden lath rathe r than the steel rapier. It is formal, deliberate, and owlish rather than casual and quick. We watc h mountain s labourin g an d givin g birt h t o mice . Pedantic lameness is not the highest form of humour but it has enduring appeal , and if spoken with slo w unctio n th e poores t jokes are the funniest. Not al l of the lines of the clowns are in the mod e described , but th e occasiona l telling thrus t is set off by an obtuse and fumbling norm. The erro r o f moder n actor s is to assum e against their ow n convictions tha t they ar e engaging in brillian t repartee. The y try to make the lines sparkle and snap in the fashion o f modern comic routine, or else try to deliver them in the rubrics of duly endorsed sagacity . Their accompanyin g antics ar e usuall y the reverse o f amusing . There i s the "broad " mode , assume d t o be lustily Elizabethan but to o convincingl y imbecilic, and th e harlequin mode, involving hopping about the stage and perching tailor-fashion o n furniture. The tradition established itself , together wit h th e parti-coloure d tights , in fairl y recen t times. We d o not kno w just how Shakespeare' s Kempe an d Armin conducted themselves , bu t w e kno w tha t the y succeede d Tarleton a s the funnies t me n i n England . What Shakespeare set down for them was designed to tap the well-springs of their native drollery . Her e lie s the cu e to salvagin g the laughte r in Shakespearean clowning . W e mus t recognize that the rol e o f Launcelot Gobb o wa s then, a s it i s now, mor e difficul t t o fil l adequately than the role of Shylock. The lines did not carr y it then, an d th e lines cannot carr y it now—we dare rest conten t with n o on e shor t o f a master . A Kemp e o r a n Armi n i s a

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rarity in any age, but mer e realization of that fact wil l serve us as a warning: w e must not complet e ou r casting until we have found a Gobbo who can make us laugh.

6 In discussing presentation I may see m to have concentrate d upon margina l matters . The reaso n for m y selectio n o f topic s is not onl y that the company that does well in the areas treated is likely t o d o wel l in the rest, but als o that routin e problem s of presentation do not lend themselves to specialized discussion. The bul k o f any Shakespearea n play consist s of two o r mor e characters conversing in our presence in all veins from casual or affectionate concor d t o passionat e discord verging o n physical violence. Occasiona l character s appea r alon e an d commun e sometimes with us and sometimes with themselves. The movement o f the actor s and its timing, th e wa y the y grou p them selves an d accompan y thei r word s wit h significan t gesture , will be determined b y technica l principles not exclusivel y ap plicable t o Shakespearea n drama. Thes e principle s mus t b e applied b y experience d professionals , an d my onl y suggestio n is tha t th e professional s in questio n should , lik e th e origina l presenters, functio n onl y a s theatrical technician s an d no t a s literary critics. I have observe d that wheneve r th e presentation of a Shake spearean pla y i s treated discursively , th e subject-matte r soo n ceases t o b e theatrica l techniqu e an d become s Shakespearean criticism. This is equally true, if not equall y ominous, whethe r the discours e i s by Granville-Barke r o r Wilso n Knight. Mr . Knight explicitl y state s tha t th e productio n itsel f should b e a criticism o f th e play—tha t i s a projectio n o f th e director' s interpretation o f it. Quite apart from whatever opinio n I may have of the critical powers o f him o r any other possible director, m y advocac y i s fo r a n attitud e precisel y th e reverse . I believe that the great problem fo r the director i s how t o avoi d

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imposing himself upon the play and the audience, and that his only saf e cours e i s to blan k ou t fro m hi s min d an y over-al l critical conceptions. Earlier I said that the audience should not be permitted t o contemplat e a Shakespearea n play piecemeal. Now I should like to ad d that those who presen t it should be permitted t o contemplat e i t i n n o othe r way . Thei r concer n should b e onl y wit h eac h individua l speec h and actio n a s i t appears, and their guid e onl y th e script . To maintai n that th e production unde r suc h circumstance s would hav e n o coher ence o r unit y i s to den y tha t coherenc e and unit y have bee n provided b y th e author . N o furthe r bindin g element s ar e needed than the appearance and personalities of the actors who play th e individua l parts . The dange r i s in over-directio n an d sophistication. There i s nothing i n th e scrip t of the first scene of King Lear t o sugges t tha t Cordeli a i s incurrin g "tragi c guilt," but thos e who assum e that Cordeli a ha s read the play, as they have done (alon g with som e out-moded criticism), so that sh e is aware of the consequence s of her honesty , may b e tempted t o transfor m he r righteousnes s to self-righteousness and mak e th e subsequen t calamities glance bac k upo n he r a s their author. Such a reading o f the play has been aptly attributed t o th e erro r o f omniscience , bu t th e poin t i s that i t i s a reading. Th e presenter s should stic k to th e writin g an d let us form ou r ow n conclusions . W e al l kno w wha t happen s t o productions of Hamlet when directors have read of the Prince's "Oedipus complex, " an d illustration s o f th e intrusivenes s of the critical approach could be multiplied indefinitely. Let m e retur n t o th e origina l presenters . They wer e crafts men o f th e theatre , an d happil y nothin g more . The y wer e actors, and although theirs was a craft of intercession, it was the type o f intercession proper to actors. They wrote no criticism, even when they offered t o the public the plays of their fellow in collected form . Thei r busines s was t o follo w th e direction s written int o eac h lin e o f thei r part s wit h al l thei r craftsman skill and not to meddle with the whole. They would have been

60 c ready enough t o accep t suggestio n from Shakespeare , but th e intercession o f someone who wa s neither poe t no r actor , tha t is a critic , o r a director , o r a critica l director , woul d hav e seemed very strang e to them. An imitation o f their innocenc e would sav e their moder n counterpart s fro m bein g whimsical and heavy-handed. A few words may be added about certain attendant feature s of thei r art . Ou r fil m maker s hav e formulate d a rul e t o th e effect tha t on e shoul d no t conve y b y word s wha t i s full y conveyed b y action. Sinc e it is a rule of economy, I believe it is a goo d one . It s corollar y wa s probabl y observe d b y th e Elizabethan actors . Becaus e Shakespeare' s play s conve y s o much b y words, it would see m advisable for actors of any era to be wary of inventing superfluous "business." They should do only wha t thei r situatio n i n an y particula r episode , o r th e emotion implie d i n an y particular line , compel s the m t o do . The righ t actor s wil l b e rightly compelled . I t shoul d no t b e offensive t o poin t ou t tha t th e virtue s mos t frequentl y com mended in the original actors were good voices, good diction , and graceful motion . When one commends these virtues now, he is always misunderstood. It is assumed that he wishes actors to b e mer e elocutionists . Wha t make s an acto r i s somethin g else—temperament, persona l magnetism , imagination , emo tional suppleness , a mimeti c instinct , al l thos e qualitie s tha t give acting its inner life and authority and us a sense of conviction—but n o acto r wa s eve r handicappe d b y a goo d voice , good diction , an d physical grace. Shakespeare's poetic dramas were composed , an d would onl y hav e been composed, whe n these virtue s were curren t an d respected . The y ca n onl y b e properly presente d whe n thes e virtues ar e agai n current an d respected. Al l th e point s o f no-compromis e i n thi s inquir y guide us one way—to the acting competence of the presenters. It is in recognition of this fact tha t m y concludin g suggestions will be made.

IV. PROPOSED SOLUTION

O

NE WHO MERELY LECTURES UPON SHAKESPEAREAN

production i s a n armchai r strategis t enjoyin g th e usua l im munities; he must defer at least to the hardihood o f those wh o brave the heat of actual combat. High courage and good intentions lie behind many productions, some of which are financed, directed, an d performe d a t th e cos t o f rea l persona l sacrifice. Expressions o f disapproval fro m civilian s behind th e line s are bound t o soun d carpin g and ungrateful . My thesi s is not tha t those spontaneous efforts no w i n evidence shoul d b e stifled o r rigidly standardize d bu t tha t the y shoul d b e provide d wit h exemplary leadership. The hardihood, the good intentions, th e self-sacrificing energies , no t t o mentio n th e genuin e talent s often engaged , ar e worthy o f the bes t channelling ou r reflec tions can suggest. As I briefl y revie w presen t auspices of pro duction, m y purpos e i s not t o see k flaws but t o demonstrat e that th e fundamenta l flaw is the sam e in all instances, and tha t any improve d auspice s o f productio n mus t b e designe d t o eliminate this fundamental flaw. The production s toward s whic h on e i s ap t t o fee l leas t charitable ar e those at presen t commercialized a t the Ol d Vi c and Stratfor d Memoria l theatres , England , o r sporadicall y presented i n the West End o r o n Broadway a s the vehicles o f various "stars. " They ar e in genera l less goo d tha n the y hav e been in the fairly recent past, and one feels that an opportunity

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has bee n missed ; on e ca n understan d th e necessit y o f th e economies i n castin g bu t no t th e relianc e upo n "effects " since the historica l appeal of places or the prestig e o f individ uals, not t o mentio n Shakespeare' s own drawin g power , ha s provided almos t captive audiences. My impressio n that seeing Shakespeare under such auspices is seldom anything more than an empty rite was sufficiently indicate d in my opening lecture . One feel s bette r dispose d towards the les s publicized wor k o f the repertor y an d roa d companie s stil l heroicall y activ e i n suburban an d provincia l theatres , eve n i n Englis h pub s an d American grang e halls. Unfortunatel y ou r approva l mus t b e on mora l rathe r tha n artisti c grounds. I n thes e day s of films, television, and radio, "stock" no longer thrives and we may as well admit it. A sapping process is in constant operation, with the mor e talente d trouper s lure d int o les s arduou s an d mor e profitable activity , and with thos e who. remain depressed by a sense of defeat. What of the one additional kind of normally commercialize d Shakespearean productions, those under the aegis of the motion picture industry? I think the opinion is fairly general that in the last fiv e o r te n years , whil e stage-Shakespear e has bee n de clining in merit, film-Shakespeare has been showing improvement. The reaso n may be that th e film makers have come t o recognize that , s o far as they ar e concerned, the onl y possibl e resource i s respectfu l adaptation . Ther e i s nothin g wicke d about adaptation. As Shakespeare levied upon the literature of the past, our times have a right to levy upon Shakespeare . His was a poetic medium , an d he transposed miscellaneous works into dramatic poetry. Thos e wh o wor k i n a pictorial mediu m have th e righ t a t leas t to tr y thei r bes t t o transpos e dramati c poetry int o pictures. If spectacle is to alternat e with speaking, the text must be ruthlessly cut, and the best of the film versions are thos e whic h hav e tende d t o recogniz e th e alternatio n principle. W e los e inimitabl e poetry , just a s when Dicken s is

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similarly adapted we lose inimitable prose, but wha t remains is worthwhile t o th e extent tha t th e adapters are masters of their medium and honestly intent upon reproducing the spirit of the work whic h lend s their ow n creatio n it s initial prestige. Th e picture ma y be truer to the original than the stage production of the uncut text, if in the latter the retention of the lines is the only form of deference to the play. The trouble with the screen versions is less that the lines are cut than that so many of those retained ar e ver y poorl y read ; th e fac t tha t w e ca n hea r s o clearly magnifie s th e fault . Th e inadequac y o f th e actor s i s again our main complaint. The increasin g success of Shakespearean films may help th e Shakespearean theatr e recogniz e it s prope r function . Pictor ially i t canno t compete , an d i t shoul d nee d les s urgin g upo n historical ground s to abandon its ill-advised attempts . What it has a s its peculiar possession is the livin g acto r an d hi s livin g voice—it shoul d mak e th e mos t o f them . Som e o f ou r mos t engaging Shakespeare is performed at the colleges and univer sities becaus e of th e enforce d simplicit y o f th e mountin g a s well as the academic responsibility of the coaches. If one wishes to represent the wild sea-waves with the mechanical ingenuity of an Iñigo Jones, ther e isn't enoug h money . I f one wishes to represent them with a dancing chorus, the Professor of English will object. The weakness of academic Shakespeare, needless to say, lies in the acting . Usually there is one young man wh o i s not onl y a bor n acto r bu t whos e voic e an d dictio n pu t th e efforts o f the faculty to shame , one young woman whos e shy bravery i s exactly right , bu t th e descen t from thes e heights is precipitous. Academic Shakespear e shade s mor e o r les s subtl y int o summer-festival Shakespeare. It would b e ungracious indeed to adopt a tone o f austerity towards the latter. Wha t bette r wa y of motivating an automobile tour than to pick as one's destination San Diego, California; Ashland, Oregon; Antioch College,

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Ohio; Stratford, Canada; o r Stratford, Connecticut? On e feel s that the hopeful days of Chautauqua have come again, is stirred by th e spiri t o f loca l enterprise , an d mingle s wit h pleasante r people tha n one would find at Saratoga or Atlantic City. Also occasionally one sees better Shakespeare than has been available in New York, London , or the parent Stratford . Unfortunatel y it is far from a sure thing. In the summe r of 195 4 the four festival s listed above whic h were alread y operatin g playe d t o a tota l audienc e o f nearl y 197,000 people . Th e Orego n Festiva l ha s survive d fourtee n seasons, and a particular tribute is due to the consistent sens e of responsibility o f its director, Angus Bowmer. It is possible that out of such activity will emerge productions o f general artistic significance, but there are obstacles that must be recognized. Most o f th e festiva l theatre s ar e experimentin g wit h ope n stages, to a greater o r les s degree conceive d o f as Elizabethan. Apart from the fac t that all are flood-lighted , i t is questionable if any are preserving the values of Shakespeare's stage in signi ficant measure . Th e firs t thin g w e notic e abou t th e neo Elizabethan stage s (an d to thos e o f the festiva l centre s may be added thos e a t Hofstr a Colleg e an d th e Universit y o f Illinoi s as well as those formerly created by the admirable enterprise of Bernard Mile s in St. John's Wood and at the Royal Exchange , London, an d of Nugent Monck in the Maddermarket Theatre, Norwich) is that all of them alter the shape and reduce the size of th e platform . Non e ha s ever provide d th e forty-thre e b y twenty-seven an d a hal f fee t o f rectangula r are a whic h i s dictated by the only known Elizabetha n precedent. The reason is that , a t som e o f th e theatres , "inner " an d "upper " stages have bee n s o extensivel y use d a s to rende r a larg e platfor m intrusive, while , a t all the theatres , seat s hav e had t o b e pro vided at the expense of the platform because there is no galleried amphitheatre. It would appea r impossible to restore the physi cal condition s o f th e Elizabetha n playhous e unles s the y ar e

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restored entire . While some o f the stage s are preserving mor e of the Elizabethan values than ar e others, non e ar e preservin g so many a s was done o n th e prosceniu m typ e o f stage I have described at the Palais de Chaillot, where ther e was not onl y a more spaciou s platfor m bu t als o les s stag e distraction . A plethora o f pillars and steps , together wit h multipl e an d sur prising mean s o f acces s t o th e playin g space , sacrifice s th e value of unobtrusive stability. Steps were originally introduced as a means of preventing th e maskin g of actors on a full stage, but the y ar e exercising a n increasing fascination i n thei r ow n right. Even college performers are abandoning the auditoriu m in favou r o f the librar y entrance , and i t seem s to b e assumed that a tragic victim looks convincingly dea d only if lying head down on a flight of steps. Festival method s o f stagin g shoul d no t b e condemne d be cause the y are not trul y "Elizabethan. " The y mus t be judged on their ow n merits , both in fairness an d in recognition o f the fact that valuable procedures have been hit upon in many field s of activity as a result of misapprehension. My criticis m of th e "more-or-less open " stagin g i s that, i n som e o f th e theatres , important actio n i s crampe d int o rea r recesse s an d insulate d from th e audienc e by bar e platform; i n others , th e actio n i n general seems diffuse, fidgety , almos t ant-like; and i n all, there is an atmosphere of experimental novelty. We shoul d not b e so convinced o f the value of experiment as to forget that all pur poseful experiment s ar e failures excep t th e last , all purposeless experiments disintegrative . A t th e mor e effervescen t centres , the spirit of stage experiment has been accompanied by an even greater tha n normal spiri t of literary meddling . Th e Capulet s have bee n represented a s moors, Petruchi o a s a cowboy, an d the weary like. On e can sympathize with th e impulse to com bat audience apathy, bu t whe n interes t is sustained by making us say, What next? what is next will never be Shakespeare. One thing mus t b e said for nineteenth-centur y production s before

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the day s o f eithe r Irvin g o r Poel . Th e stagin g methods , al though ponderou s an d inappropriate , wer e neithe r over whelmingly impressiv e nor restlessly experimental. On e kne w what t o expec t in the theatre one attended. Onc e the familiar old sets had rumbled into place, they could be taken for granted and attentio n concentrate d upo n Mr . Kemble , o r Mr . Kean , or Mr . Booth . The ol d prompt-books revea l b y their under scorings an d margina l notation s ho w suc h actor s strov e fo r full understandin g and perfect emphasis, while some of the old reviews show that their readings were analysed with a subtlety no longer appropriate. It matters little how lines are read when the character s themselve s ar e scarcel y recognizabl e an d th e play as a whole converted int o a "romp." I shall return to the point later on. Neither the type of stages in use nor the midsummer night' s madness sometimes in evidence is so dampening t o ou r hope s as something else. The open stages could be effectively used, and sometimes are, th e directio n governe d b y modest y an d goo d taste, an d sometime s is ; th e bi g proble m stil l remains . I t i s when festiva l Shakespear e is at it s best that w e ar e most con scious o f obstacle s t o furthe r progress . Th e companie s ar e necessarily defective. The name Stratford is limited in its magic, and neither th e centre s so-named no r an y o f the other s are in the enviabl e positio n o f Oberammergau—o r o f th e Bac h country i n Pennsylvania . What make s th e Bac h Festiva l a n event in the world of music is the company of native performers created and sustained by a long local tradition; the privilege of listening to the m must be earned by assiduous application and long waiting. At the Shakespear e festivals the performers must be recruite d eac h year, an d considerin g the difficultie s o f th e process, i t i s remarkable tha t thei r succes s i s a s great a s it is . They are usually students or professiona l beginners, performing a s a grou p fo r th e firs t time . Th e demand s o f repertor y performance (an d the ambitiousness of some of the repertories

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is astounding) are added to the demands of a new an d difficul t medium. Th e seasone d professional actor sometime s imported as the sta r is not necessaril y seasoned in Shakespeare , and eve n if h e were , th e defect s o f Broadwa y castin g practice s woul d only be reproduced. Shakespeare ha s written n o one-ma n o r one-woma n plays . Burbage ma y hav e excelle d hi s fellows , bu t th e remainin g eight o r nine master-craftsmen and ten o r fifteen journeymen and apprentices could no t hav e been dimmed b y his blinding light. Th e part s written for th e lesse r actor s are often difficul t and alway s important. Th e play s demand a distributed excellence i n actin g suc h a s the sta r syste m canno t supply , a n ensemble proficienc y suc h a s newl y recruite d an d hastil y re hearsed group s o f enthusiast s cannot eve n approximate . Th e centres operatin g i n connectio n wit h trainin g school s ar e endeavouring t o plac e th e emphasi s neare r t o wher e i t be longs, bu t th e Shakespear e w e wan t mus t b e presente d b y actors alread y trained , an d thes e school s wil l b e draine d o f talent i n exac t proportio n t o thei r succes s i n developin g it . The festivals then, although on e hopes it may prove otherwise , seem not destined to supply the type of performances that may set a standard. We trus t that they will continue to flourish and add i n thei r high-spirite d wa y t o th e amenitie s o f summe r travel, but thei r wider functio n wil l probably b e confined t o the developin g o f individua l actor s fo r som e othe r typ e o f company.

2 I come now t o my proposal. It seems to me useless to discuss a theatrica l projec t excep t i n relation . to actua l theatrica l facts. Whe n ne w play s wit h smal l cast s ca n rarel y mak e a financial go of it, old plays with large casts cannot do so without artistically ruinou s concession s in th e are a of th e mino r roles . We ma y wis h tha t th e fact s wer e different , tha t "sho w busi -

68 ness" wer e no t wha t i t is , bu t ther e i s less likelihoo d o f it s changing tha n o f ou r bein g abl e t o adap t ou r projec t t o it . The perfect auspices for the performance of Shakespeare would be now , a s in hi s ow n day , a permanen t repertor y compan y composed o f th e fines t professiona l actor s alive . Suc h i s unobtainable, but something of the tradition, atmosphere, esprit de corps, an d ensemble proficienc y of the non-devitalize d repertory company might be successfully simulated. Ours would not be truly such a company, since membership and tenure would be externally controlled, with authority residing elsewhere than among th e actors . On e o f the present-da y condition s w e are regretfully recognizin g i s tha t th e actin g professio n ha s re linquished it s rights in management. I t would resembl e such a repertory compan y i n the permanence o f its over-all identity , and i n it s commitmen t t o a certai n wa y o f doin g things . Membership woul d b e fo r th e limite d term o f a singl e year with renewal viewed a s a reward rather than a right, and wit h contracts guaranteein g nothing i n the way o f particular roles. The directors , lik e th e actors , woul d b e enliste d fo r limite d but renewable terms, so that the composition of the company would b e completely plastic, with th e question of who wa s to participate at any give n time governe d solel y b y artisti c con sidérations. If one ask s how i n the worl d the right actor s and directors can be persuaded to accep t conditions like these , the answer is simple—by offerin g the m mor e mone y an d prestige than they could get elsewhere. Before proceedin g further, I had better discuss the matter o f financial support . Th e presen t da y purchase s under regula r market conditions present-da y products , i n the field of entertainment a s in an y other . I t i s natural tha t thi s should b e so , and we mus t not b e confused by the fact tha t a modern film , a moder n musical , occasionall y eve n a moder n pla y ca n b e produced t o financia l advantage . I t i s n o damnin g criticis m of the genera l audience tha t it s interests are mainly contemp -

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orary and that the idiom t o which i t mos t readily responds is the purely familiar. Oklahoma! is still able indeed to pay its own way, bu t i f i t i s revive d thre e centurie s fro m now , i t wil l probably need a subvention. We tak e for granted the existence of th e economi c handica p so far a s the classic s i n genera l ar e concerned. Ar t gallerie s do not pay, libraries do no t pay, and symphony an d opera d o not pay. Why shoul d Shakespearean drama be barred from the privileged list? Its record o f survival on the open market has been remarkable indeed, but th e tim e for support has come. The actual sum needed may be dismissed with the statement that i t mus t b e sufficien t an d therefor e quit e large . Mentio n of a large sum of money i s apt t o mak e the commercial pro ducer loo k up . "A t last, " I can hear him say , "yo u hav e said something practical. Give m e sufficient means , and I will giv e you good Shakespeare. " But I am by no means assured that he would. Th e tendencie s no w predominan t sugges t tha t th e money woul d b e misspent. The costlies t productions recentl y on displa y hav e bee n amon g th e poorest , thei r adventitiou s success dependen t mainl y upo n th e advertisin g valu e o f bi g names o r o f production accessorie s either mechanicall y nove l or air-borne by the ton. How do we know that, with unlimited means, bras s band s migh t no t supplemen t th e sixty-piec e orchestras, or that the stage might not cease simply to turn on a pivot an d begin to revolve on an axis, with conduit s piping in the music of the spheres? In the hands of the restlessly ingenious the less money th e better, and we can count upon a stage that at least stands still. The money must be spent not upon buildings, or advertising, or sceni c and musica l accessories , but upo n wha t ever y tur n in th e presen t investigation ha s revealed a s the tru e indispensable—the actors. It must be spent upon salaries, and upon many instead of a few. This is no glamorous proposal, and the source of the funds must be discussed. A tax upon the Shakespeare in-

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dustry, including the properly pro-rate d income s of publishers, hotel proprietors, an d lecturers like myself would be poetically just, bu t th e proceed s woul d b e too variabl e an d difficul t t o collect. A governmen t subsidy , althoug h ther e ar e goo d European precedents, would not do on this side of the Atlantic. Our nationa l legislator s are not onl y mercurial , bu t the y hav e an odd sense of proprietorship abou t the things they bu y wit h our money , an d we should not lik e to se e productions shape d to th e alternative taste s of the ins and the outs . Municipalitie s and loca l philanthropist s ar e ou r benefactor s so far a s classical art an d musi c ar e concerned , bu t a theatr e fo r Shakespear e should belong to no one community. The bes t answer, I believe, i s the typ e o f foundation estab lished by bequest to supply a large permanent endowment fo r a particular kin d o f activity . Suc h foundation s have becom e a unique an d invaluabl e featur e o f th e patter n o f America n civilization a s a result of both economic an d moral forces , an d they wil l continu e t o multipl y s o long a s Americans continue to gro w wealthy , to resen t confiscatory inheritanc e taxes , and to fee l democrati c gratitude and goodwill. I t has been pointe d out tha t a s mor e an d mor e o f th e traditionall y charitabl e functions ar e assume d b y government , th e ne w foundation s will have no choice but to adopt cultural aims . It seems to me by n o mean s unlikely tha t a theatre fo r Shakespear e will on e day b e endowed . Larg e fortunes have alread y founde d grea t libraries largel y o r wholl y i n Shakespeare' s honour, an d th e gentle rain will drop again. We mus t only hope that the futur e benefactor wh o i s destined to link his name in perpetuity wit h one supreme will sho w som e imagination, and think i n terms of a theatrical company instead of a theatrical building. Please follo w m e i n a swif t transitio n and suppos e that th e endowment ha s bee n secured . Ther e will , o f course , b e trustees—of the usua l integrity an d dignity , bu t als o o f suffi cient cultivatio n t o mak e the m ster n warden s o f the idea l o f

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actor-centred, poetry-respectin g classica l productions of Shakespeare comparabl e i n finis h t o th e wor k o f th e Comédi e Française. They will b e good enoug h a t distinctions to recog nize tha t play s traditionall y labelle d "romantic " ma y stil l b e classically performed . Th e trustee s will appoint a s foundation secretary the best available administrator knowledgeable i n the world of the theatre, and the latter wil l supervis e a permanen t executive staff . W e nee d concer n ourselve s her e onl y wit h those officer s responsibl e fo r recruiting . Thes e mus t b e exper t judges o f actin g an d directing , as well-informed, mobile , an d ruthless a s th e talen t scout s o f professiona l basebal l an d amateur football . Thei r fiel d o f operatio n wil l b e al l part s of al l English-speakin g land s wher e ther e i s an y theatrica l activity, includin g th e valian t frontiers . The majorit y o f thei r choices wil l probabl y b e fro m tha t strat a o f artist s strangel y designated a s "supportin g actors " i n play s an d "feature d actors" in films. They will be less interested in the artists whose public ascendenc y i s such a s to constitut e a threat t o ensemble excellence. Ofte n th e establishe d "star" is so proficient a t self projection tha t h e projects himself ou t o f Shakespeare ; in any case his aura would be a hazard, and the present Shakespearea n greats will be of more valu e to us as directors than as performers. Tha t ther e i s a shortag e o f properl y qualifie d actor s i s beyond dispute , bu t i t i s absurd t o suppos e that th e shortag e is too acute for the formation of one good company. We nee d not b e worried abou t th e ability of the compan y to obtai n the service s it wants. Sinc e it is not operatin g on th e star system , the non-specification of roles in the contract s will not b e a limiting factor . A t leas t one yea r o f prosperit y an d participation i n a great enterprise is guaranteed, an d theatrica l casting i n genera l ha s nothin g nearl y s o goo d t o offer . Th e organization i s a t a financia l advantag e t o compete , an d it s prestige wil l soo n matc h it s advantag e sinc e such i s the wa y of the world. It will be recognized as unique, and membership

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for a t leas t a seaso n wil l len d a cache t t o an y actin g career . About twenty-five o r thirty fine artists backed by a thoroughly efficient an d solvent command wil l b e our theatre in any given year. Three play s a seaso n will b e enough , le t u s sa y a history , a comedy , an d a tragedy . A s th e circu s goe s int o trainin g quarters in the fal l an d comes out i n the spring , ou r compan y will go into training quarters in the spring and come out in the fall. Th e rehearsal s will be preceded b y coachin g i n th e language of the Renaissance, spoken and unspoken, until al l mem bers o f the compan y ar e placed upo n somethin g approachin g the advantageous footing of the original presenters. Audiences will never have the uneasy sensation that an y of these actors is handling hi s first rapier o r makin g hi s first bow, o r doe s no t know precisel y what his speeches mean. There will also be drill in such fundamentals as diction and metrical speech, but no one will be starting fro m scratch . The recruitin g ha s supplied no t only fine actors—true actors, not mer e elocutionists—bu t also masters of the spoken word. There wil l remai n mor e tim e fo r actua l rehearsal s tha n i s ever devote d t o the m unde r condition s now current . To th e later rehearsal s summer visitor s may be admitted, bu t th e sol e aim of the directors will be to brin g th e company t o pea k for its winter tour . This , o f course , i s a touring company . I t wil l present a pla y a wee k durin g a three-wee k stan d i n eac h o f eight or ten large centres of population. I n addition it s annual repertory wil l b e telecas t an d filmed . Althoug h a fil m o f a stage production i s neither a motion pictur e nor a play, i t can be a fine documentary fo r us e in the schools , better tha n any thing o f th e kin d no w available . Th e telecast s ar e fo r th e millions who have no access to theatres. At the regular perform ances there will not b e enough seats for all who wil l soo n wish to attend , bu t thi s is as it should be. Seein g these performances will b e a reward fo r Shakespear e enthusiasts of th e necessar y

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alertness an d enterprise : th e seat s mus t b e ordere d fa r i n ad vance. I f th e foundatio n i s embarrasse d by findin g tha t it s tours an d telecast s pay, i t ca n distribut e it s surplu s fund s a s grants-in-aid t o academi c and summer-festiva l companies. I n sports this is known asfarming, bu t it raises regional standards of skill and is a boon to regional fans.

3 To make such concrete proposals upon an academic occasion may see m inappropriate, even a little coarse , but I am relyin g upon your tolerance. In the interest of our causes we seize what opportunities ar e generousl y offered . Proposal s must b e mad e sometime somewhere—"blue-prints" as they now ar e called— and min e i s no t wholl y lackin g i n academi c features . Blueprints have usually to d o with such things as road systems and the distribution o f thermo-nuclear reactors , but I am prepared to defen d mine in rivalry with thes e on the basi s of both use fulness an d feasibility . The proposa l need s the fillin g i n an d correction tha t woul d b e suggeste d by a systemati c study o f subsidized o r controlle d theatrica l activitie s suc h a s Metro politan Opera , D'Oyle y Carte , th e Frenc h Nationa l Theatre , and the like, but I do not believe that it can be dismissed out of hand. Let us see what can be said against it. It postulates foundation support, a large permanent endowment, an d no endowment i s at presen t i n sight . Th e su m solicite d i n ai d o f th e Shake spearean centr e i n Connecticu t i s relativel y modes t an d ye t proving difficul t t o com e by. I t is my opinio n tha t sums may be to o modes t t o inspir e an y confidenc e tha t the y wil l b e effectual. Recognitio n o f th e fac t tha t financia l support mus t be constan t an d adequat e ha s th e virtu e a t leas t o f abatin g confusion and of reducing many problems to one. We are more likely to ge t what w e want if we say in italics that it will have

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to be liberally paid for. That it will actually be so paid for, by someone soone r o r later , i s far less chimerical than that i t will come into existence in defiance of economic facts. There ma y b e th e furthe r objectio n tha t m y proposa l i s simply too neat , and would no t wor k ou t eve n if funds wer e available. Carefully calculated procedures are poisonous to th e spirit of the theatre. Theatrical art needs the stimulus of danger and uncertainty . It s norma l atmospher e i s tha t o f th e thi n margin and impending crisis. It snatches its great victories from defeat, and makes its most triumphant crossings over the knifeedge of probable disaster. One can imagine proponents o f this view dismissing my theatre for Shakespeare a priori: it would be all very safe, all very sound, and all very dead. There is something to this objection, but it should come onl y from thos e who hav e been walking the knife-edg e o f disaster and successfully gettin g across, with succes s measured in terms of artisti c significanc e rathe r tha n financia l survival . I f w e scrutinize the objection, we discover that it is self-contradictory. It point s t o dange r i n deplorin g th e enervatin g absenc e o f danger. O f cours e ther e i s danger fo r ou r theatre , th e mos t stimulating o f all—th e dange r o f artisti c failure . A t th e firs t sign of stodginess in any season, all bookings will b e cancelled and the compan y paid of f and dispersed—that should be crisis enough, an d the kind that only this management coul d affor d to supply. The actors and directors of our theatre will feel the necessary competitive impulse . They wil l be competing wit h fine productions pas t an d to come , wit h thei r ow n achievement s and those of other artists . They will b e interested in improvemen t rather than in change for the sake of change, and the problem s of effective presentatio n will become more challenging a s they are brough t graduall y int o focus . Th e problem s canno t eve n be recognize d s o lon g a s th e mod e o f productio n remain s erratic an d roughl y inventive . Th e effectivenes s o f a certai n

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gesture o r th e stres s of a certain word wil l see m as important to actor s an d spectator s i n thi s Shakespearea n theatre a s i n the Sall e d u Luxembourg . An d wh y not ? Th e remainin g corpus of English dramatic literature provides room enough for romping an d the display of Saxon vitality. Perhaps consciousness of details diminishes as artistic perfection approaches, but we ar e further o n ou r wa y t o thi s unconsciousness when th e details ar e smal l tha n whe n the y ar e large . Whe n w e fin d ourselves discussin g the propriet y o f introducin g a chorus o f nuns into Measure for Measure instea d of how Isabell a reads her lines, no challenge has been met and no step towards perfection taken. The productions will not be dead. They will simply not be galvanize d int o appearin g alive , an d s o wil l com e aliv e indeed. A s effective technique s are recovered, th e differenc e i n successive productions of a pky wil l becom e less obvious bu t artistically more exciting.

4 Someday there will be an endowed theatr e for Shakespeare, worthy of him and its angelic founder. Unfortunately we must wait, and the question arises of whether anything can be done in th e interim . Perhap s until w e ca n ge t wha t w e wan t b y purchase, we can get something more nearly resembling it b y moral pressure. Shakespearea n producer s ar e not reall y happ y when they hear the judicious grieve, no matter how they may rationalize thei r resor t t o sleight s and stratagems . I thin k w e should grieve more ofte n and more audibly. In the first decade of th e presen t centur y th e loudes t journalisti c acclai m wa s being give n th e production s tha t wer e mos t stunning . The y were judged by the eminence of the star, the size of the invest ment in scenery, and the proposed length of the run. The nega tive voice s wer e fe w an d somewha t muted . Sidne y Le e was saying that the more homely productions of Frank Benson were generically superior , an d Professo r Raleig h wa s saying , wit h

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unaccustomed acerbity, that the men of the theatre should no t use Shakespear e a s a platfor m fo r self-display . On e woul d have sai d tha t n o on e wa s listening, bu t i n th e nex t decad e came th e production s o f Granville-Barke r an d thereafte r th e golden ag e at Stratford . It i s my gues s that betwee n 191 2 an d 1932 ther e wer e individua l production s bette r tha n an y sinc e Shakespeare's ow n day. Perhap s I am stressing th e influence of academic censor s in excess of the evidence ; stil l I believ e a s a general principle tha t the times when ou r voices seem to hav e the least carrying power ar e the very times we should kee p on talking. My recapitulatio n wil l b e brief . Althoug h I believ e the m based upo n reasonabl y adequat e historica l evidenc e an d reasonably objective observation, my specific suggestions about staging, presentation , an d company organization are naturally open t o criticis m an d subjec t t o discount . M y underlyin g assumptions, however, I think must stand. These are, first, that there i s n o theatr e a t presen t doin g justic e t o th e play s o f Shakespeare and our own capacities for aesthetic and emotional response; second , tha t th e theatr e o f Shakespeare' s ow n tim e offers guidanc e i n improvemen t i f w e quietl y emulat e th e essential virtues of its procedures but do not capitalize upon th e novelty o f overt imitation whether accurat e or impressionistic; and third, that the sine qua non of a first-rate theatre for Shake speare is a first-rate company o f actors, and although the maintenance o f such a company mean s financial subventio n o n a n unprecedented scale, an interi m improvemen t i n production s would result if energies were concentrated upo n improving the acting skills available instead of devising subterfuges. Such ha s been m y subjec t i f not m y theme . I f m y them e should b e describe d a s a plea for Shakespear e pure an d unde filed, I shal l no t protest . Unles s w e tak e th e play s upo n hi s terms we are not taking them at all. We owe our chance to read

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what h e actually wrote to thos e editors wh o hav e resisted the perennial impuls e to improv e th e text, whethe r b y bowdlerization o r it s reverse. If it had no t bee n for thei r integrity , th e plays would b y this time have been eroded int o insignificance. There mus t b e a correspondin g resistanc e t o alterin g thei r emphasis whe n performed . Rathe r tha n tailo r the m t o twen tieth-century tastes , w e coul d mor e honestly , decently , an d profitably stic k t o twentieth-centur y plays . Th e ingratiatin g words "significanc e for ou r times " ca n cover a lot o f unconscious fraudulence . I f th e significanc e o f thes e play s fo r ou r times is only wha t manipulator s i n our time s happen t o thin k significant, w e ar e certain t o los e th e bes t thing the y hav e t o offer us—th e reminde r tha t ou r frightenin g an d mysteriou s universe remain s beautifu l i f see n through wis e an d religiou s eyes. What precisely are the advantages of Shakespeare impure and defiled? In asserting that th e plays are better tha n anything director s can d o t o them , I am als o asserting that the y ar e bette r tha n anything critic s can say of them. Th e impuls e o f the latte r t o link thei r creativ e effort s wit h Shakespeare' s i s huma n an d forgivable bu t n o differen t essentiall y fro m othe r kind s o f name-dropping. Ther e shoul d b e a chanc e t o escap e thes e frustrated creators by returning not only to pure text s bu t also to pure productions. I am by no means exempting persons like myself whe n I deplore th e intrusiveness of the middlemen . I n teaching Shakespeare, one begins with hopes of how much good one may do and ends with hope s of how littl e harm on e may do. Perhap s it would b e best just t o read th e plays aloud. Bu t one reads so badly! Then i s born th e vision of perfect produc tions—Shakespeare speaking for himself with mos t miraculou s organ.

APPENDIX A. THE ROL E O F TH E SHAKESPEAREAN PRODUCE R

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'N SHAKESPEARE S TIME THERE WERE NEITHER

dramatic critics nor theatrica l producers in the present sense of the terms . Criticis m consiste d o f approbatio n o r disapproba tion, usually moral and expressed in general terms, o r of argument upon such technical principles as the unities. No on e fel t called upo n t o mediat e betwee n th e playwrigh t an d hi s auditors—to exhibi t th e beauties , analys e th e subtleties , o r explain the meaning o f a play. Similarly , productio n consiste d of convertin g th e writte n wor d int o th e spoke n word , th e implied theatrica l action into real theatrical action, by methods so simpl e and standardize d as to b e relatively neutral . A tex t might b e revised between on e serie s o f performances and th e next, bu t ther e i s n o evidenc e tha t b y processe s othe r tha n textual, play s wer e consciousl y reshape d upo n successiv e revivals. Today, of course, all this is changed. As we read Shakespeare , a hundred critica l voices are whispering i n ou r ears , voices o f the present, voices from the past, many wise and harmonious, others simply insistent, but i n either case introducing int o th e reading experience a factor other than the poet's page and our own susceptibilities . Ou r protectio n i s that th e voice s ar e so many and various as to blend into an indistinguishable murmur

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almost a s unobtrusive a s silence. Agains t the producer , how ever, we have no like protection. We cannot attend a performance excep t i n hi s persona l custody . W e canno t liste n t o Shakespeare excep t t o th e accompanimen t o f hi s singl e an d penetrating voice. He is, alas, the one inescapable critic. One nee d b e inimica l t o neithe r critic s no r producer s i n order to recognize that both, and especially the latter, are prone to rashnes s and ar e ofte n to o aggressiv e for ou r good . Wha t follows i s in essenc e a ple a t o th e produce r fo r self-restraint , based upon a reminder that from a n historical point of view he is with us only upon sufferance . That the modern "producer " (i n America the "director" or "producer" cum "director") had no counterpart in Elizabethan England i s perhaps best indicated by the fact that no word was created t o designat e hi s role . Eve n thos e mos t nearl y i n hi s authoritative position , suc h leader s o f th e juvenile troupe s as Edwardes, Farrant , Mulcaster , Westcote , Evans , an d Pierc e retained onl y th e designatio n "master, " deriving fro m schoolmaster o r chapel-master. Sinc e the repertorie s o f th e companie s governed b y thes e me n consiste d mainl y o f plays written b y themselves o r b y poet s closel y associate d wit h the m i n play house management, they can scarcely be equated with the non writing, non-acting specialist s of the present, and none of them gained a reputatio n fro m mer e adroitnes s i n guidin g play s through rehearsal. Evidently such guidance was not considere d "creative" o r particularl y difficult . Eve n i n th e cour t masks , where th e stagin g wa s sufficientl y comple x t o evok e a tech nology of artificial lighting, and where a diversity of specialized skills, poetic, musical , choreographic, crie d out fo r co-ordination, we hear nothing o f a "producer" as distinct from individual creative artists. The personne l o f the Revels Office wa s actively engaged, but as Jonson distribute s "credits" through th e printed texts of his early masks, he commends only such men as Masters Gile s an d Herne , fo r th e choreography , Maste r

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Ferrabosco, fo r th e musica l score, Maste r Jones, fo r th e scen e and costume designing, and himself for "th e inventio n o f the whole" (Hue and Cry after Cupid, 1608) . Presumably Jonson o r Jones, o r both , cam e nearer to fillin g th e rol e o f "producer " than did any staff sergeant of the Master of the Revels. It i s th e adul t professiona l troupes suc h a s originall y per formed Shakespear e that mus t chiefl y engag e ou r attention . As functions i n their theatres became sufficiently differentiated , words wer e foun d t o designat e thos e wh o performe d them : player, poet, house-keeper, sharer, hired-man, musician, gatherer, tireman, book-keeper, stage-keeper. Th e list , althoug h nearl y exhaustive, i s short ; ye t shor t a s i t i s it s item s overlap . Fo r instance, th e book-keeper (custodia n of scripts , and prompter) , who wa s a hired-man, seems also to have functioned, at least in some companies , a s stage-keeper (stage-manage r an d -care taker). It has even been suggested that he was the counterpar t of th e moder n produce r o r director . If so, his directing han d must hav e bee n tentativ e indeed , sinc e th e actor s unde r hi s presumed directio n wer e hi s masters , employin g hi m a t si x shillings a week and never, s o far as the records indicate, admitting him to a place as sharer in a company. No doub t th e book-keeper's o r stage-keeper's authority was only minor, tha t tyranny in petty matters which all of us must suffer fro m faithfu l aides . Someone else must have distributed the parts of a new play and decided whethe r i t was worthy o f new costumes . These would hav e been the core considerations in any Elizabethan "production," and the signs are unmistakable that decisions were reache d b y the actor-sharers as a group o r by one of their number delegated by them. The latter, possibly Shakespeare a s poet o f th e company , possibl y Burbage as its principal actor, possibly some lesser member distinguished only by a time-tried levelheadedness, may thus be envisioned as, in a sense, the "producer " in the Chamberlain's-King' s Company . Since it is difficult fo r a group t o mak e a series of minor deci -

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sions i n concert , i t i s possible that thi s hypothetica l produce r may have arbitrated points of stage strategy. The simplicit y of Elizabethan stag e strateg y ha s probabl y no t ye t bee n ade quately recognized, but the present argument is independent o f such a n opinion . Whateve r th e emphasi s an d effect s desired , and whatever the technical means of achieving them, and whatever th e syste m of delegating immediate responsibilit y for th e application o f thes e means , the ultimat e authorit y wa s vested solely in the actor-sharer s as a group. I n the circumstance s the great arbite r would be the script. It would b e the onl y agenc y for keepin g a compan y o f equal s i n step , an d fo r rulin g ou t repercussive distortions . Th e distortion s o f particula r roles , with thei r disturbing effect upo n othe r roles , are possible only in the type o f production wher e som e individual ha s an overriding vote . Th e Elizabetha n scrip t migh t b e altere d i n re hearsal, bu t betwee n tha t scrip t a s finall y endorse d an d th e acting company , n o agenc y intervened ; hence , betwee n th e playwright's origina l conception an d the audience, n o agenc y intervened excep t th e acting company. I t is for this reason that we ma y justifiabl y den y th e existenc e o f a "producer " i n Elizabethan times. The interventio n o f the actors themselves may seem , in th e present context , to o importan t t o b e lightl y dismissed . Th e playwright's conceptio n wa s not establishe d and preserved as a thing holy and entire, and the lament of Dekker is by no means unique i n it s age:". . . le t th e Poe t se t th e not e o f hi s numbers eve n t o Apollo' s ow n lyre , th e Playe r wil l have his own crochets , an d sin g false note s in despite of all the rule s o f music" ("Lectori, " The Whore of Babylon, 1607) . Nevertheles s the tendenc y woul d hav e bee n t o defe r t o th e script , fo r th e reason alread y given—th e necessary conservatism o f a democratic system of company organization—and for the additiona l reason that there was no occasio n for doing otherwise . A s fre e agents, th e actor s bought an d stage d onl y suc h plays a s they

82 wished to buy and stage. That the method o f staging itself was not o f a type calculated t o alte r the character of the text pro vided by the author cannot here be argued in detail, but it must strike anyone that, within a specified period, staging and stage writing mus t b e trul y complementary . Whe n play s wer e printed, thei r stag e directions wer e rarel y amplified . Laconi c though the y certainl y are , the y wer e nevertheles s deeme d a sufficient guid e t o visualization . I t i s saf e t o sa y that readin g Shakespeare and seeing Shakespeare in the theatre were, i n his own times, less disparate experiences than they have been at any time since . I n th e theatr e th e experienc e wa s no t a differen t experience but the same experience intensified. So long as the King's Men endured as an actor-sharer com pany, that is until 1642 , the tendency, despite a few decorativ e interpolations lik e thos e i n Macbeth, an d th e introductio n a t Blackfriars o f entr'acte musi c an d perhap s occasiona l experi ments wit h scenery , wa s to perfor m th e plays of Shakespeare in a manner establishe d by traditio n rathe r tha n t o striv e fo r new effect s an d altered emphasis. We ma y gues s that betwee n Shakespeare's death and the closing of the theatres the impuls e to produce rather than simply re-perform th e plays was, at any rate, only fitfull y i n evidence since there was not ye t any authorita tive individual to implement the impulse. The testimony of the Restoration prompter, Joh n Downes , althoug h unreliabl e i n details, proves the existence of a conservative ideal. The part of Henry VIII , h e avers , wa s "righ t an d justly don e b y Mr . Betterton, he being instructed in it by Si r William, who had it from old Mr. Lowin, who had his instruction from Mr. Shake speare himself." And again, concerning the performance of the role o f Hamlet, "Si r Willia m (havin g seen Mr. Taylo r o f the Blackfriars Compan y ac t it , wh o bein g instructe d b y th e author, Mr . Shakespeare ) taught Mr . Betterto n i n every par ticle of it. .. ." (Roscius Anglicanus, 1608, pp. 21,24.) The ideal , o f course , did no t surviv e th e earl y Restoration

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period, and , curiously, the most conspicuous agent in its dissipation wa s tha t ver y Si r Willia m mentione d b y Prompte r Downes. Sir William Davenant may with justice be called the first Shakespearea n "producer." The presen t author has been inclined t o deprecat e th e obloqu y heape d upon Davenan t i n view of his real love o f Shakespeare, but, like all things, "real love" must be judged b y its consequences. As Professor Odell wittily put it, Davenant "loved Shakespeare so much he could not leav e him alone, " whereas Killigrew, the riva l playhouse manager, wh o wa s relatively indiffèren t t o Shakespeare , was inclined t o stag e the plays unaltered (Shakespeare from Betterton to Irving, 1920, I, 24). The paradox is not without significance. All of our contemporar y producers profess, and most of them no doubt have, a tremendous love of Shakespeare. Of cours e ther e wer e factor s a t wor k i n th e Restoratio n treatment o f Shakespeare more potent than the mere personal inclinations of Davenant o r any other single individual. These factors were two i n number: first, the substitution of a managerial fo r a n actor-share r syste m o f compan y organization , with a consequent substitution of dictatorial radicalism for the democratic conservatis m previousl y noted ; an d second , a spreading hiatus between the plays and the audience because of the passag e of time an d th e changin g character of playgoers. Precisely these factors have been operating ever since in giving us "productions" rather than performances of Shakespeare. We ma y withou t inappropriatenes s pas s directl y fro m th e Restoration to the present day. The mid-twentieth century, at least in the English and American theatrical worlds, is more like the Restoration than like any other era. The adaptations, from Davenant's t o Gibber's , are no longe r s o frequently subjected to condemnatio n (whic h would no w soun d somewhat hypocritical), and the most notorious of them, the operatic Tempest, was of late considered worth the trouble of a revival. Suffice i t to say that Davenant, from his day to ours , has been succeeded

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by a lon g lin e o f "producers, " actor-manager s an d others , aided a t firs t b y suc h authors as Tate, aide d a t las t chiefl y b y stage technologists, but early or late, relying mostly upon thei r own fertility . Som e o f thes e producers , notabl y Garrick , achieved thei r mos t errati c effect s whil e purportedl y restorin g Shakespeare to his "true and original form." Suc h claims might be traced a s a subsidiary tradition i n post-Restoration produc tion, wit h a concludin g surve y o f th e activit y i n twentieth century "Globes." No on e would wish to deny the virtues of experiment o r to dissipate the golde n aura , not alway s spurious, hovering ove r three centurie s of Shakespear e in the restore d English theatres. Fine thing s hav e sometime s bee n don e an d grea t joy some times conveyed . I t i s not m y presen t busines s to linge r wit h these things, o r with th e fact tha t playhouses and players have an enticin g glamou r o f their ow n quit e apar t fro m whateve r they may do with or to a poet's dreams. Austerity of tone must inevitably accompan y m y attempt to make my point. My point is this: th e bes t readers of Shakespeare , those wh o hav e gon e to th e theatr e wit h th e highes t expectations , hav e lon g bee n the ones most cruelly disappointed there, and the responsibility lies at the door o f the producers or the complex o f production . Charles Lamb' s indictmen t o f Shakespeare-in-the-theatr e i s wrongly based , but his statement about the productions he saw (which onl y "brough t down a fine vision") is the simple trut h about the productions he saw. Coarser sensibilitie s than hi s wer e intervening betwee n Shakespeare' s text an d himself. Mr. Eliot says essentially the same thing (Elizabethan Essays, p. 16): ... I know tha t I rebel against mos t performances o f Shakespeare's plays because I want a direct relationship between th e wor k o f art an d myself , and I want th e performanc e to b e suc h a s will no t interrup t o r alte r this relationship an y mor e tha n i t i s an alteratio n o r interruptio n for m e t o superpose a secon d inspectio n o f a pictur e o r buildin g upon th e first . I object, in other words , to th e interpretation, an d I would have a work o f

85 art suc h that i t needs only to b e completed an d cannot b e altered by each interpretation.

Unless on e i s committed t o a faith i n Mr . Eliot' s infallibility , one must see that his error i n laying his charge against the kin d of play s thes e ar e equal s Lamb' s i n layin g hi s charg e agains t performance rathe r tha n particula r performances . A t an y rat e both Lam b an d Eliot , strang e bedfellows , attes t alik e t o th e unfortunate accident s tha t s o consistently befal l Shakespeare' s plays en route to us as spectators. The features of a few recent productions an d the attitudes of a few contemporar y producer s may b e placed i n evidence. I n the 1953-5 4 production o f All's Well that Ends Well a t the Ol d Vic, the King o f France was treated a s a comic character . Th e phenomenon i s indicative o f the haphazard nature of theatrical "influences." I n th e undergraduat e day s of the presen t write r it was the custom among students to take turns in repeating the gnomic utterance s o f thei r academi c elder s t o a choru s o f artificial yawns . Th e exercis e at the tim e seeme d finely rebellious, sophisticated , an d indescribabl y funny . I n England , where fo r better and for worse, the literary and undergraduat e worlds ar e more interpenetrabl e than elsewhere, a like custo m must stil l prevail , judging fro m a scen e i n Christophe r Fry' s The Lady's Not for Burning, where severa l youth s yaw n awa y the wisdo m o f th e world . Fro m Fr y t o Shakespear e mus t seem a logical step—i n the All's Well o f the Ol d Vi c the wis dom o f th e Kin g o f Franc e wa s greete d b y the exaggerate d yawns o f his young courtiers . B y thi s (an d less subtl e means) he was converted into a figure of fun . Now i t is true that Shakespearea n characters are susceptible to muc h diversit y o f evaluation. Ther e is, however, a limit t o its permissibl e range . N o san e observe r ha s eve r mistake n Bottom for a dignitary o r th e Kin g o f Franc e fo r a buffoon . That the actual words o f Shakespeare were being repeate d o n the stag e of the Ol d Vi c is immaterial—the producer was com -

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posing this portion o f the play. To proclaim that the language of Shakespear e is nowadays les s frequently cu t an d n o longe r revised is to rejoice in a technicality. The exampl e will suffice fo r all those instances in which th e producers conside r th e comedie s insufficiently comi c an d th e tragedies too tragic , and while honouring Hamlet' s injunctio n to let the clowns speak no more than is set down for them, feel free to recruit their number—most commonly by transforming into a Polonius any available oldster i n the dramati s personae. A differen t kin d o f directoria l "touch " wa s illustrated i n th e 1953-54 productio n o f A Midsummer-Night's Dream a t th e Shakespeare Memoria l Theatre . Th e creature s o f th e fair y kingdom wer e mad e no t comi c bu t grotesquel y sinister , es pecially Puck, who moved abou t either in somersaults or wit h a repulsivel y simia n roll , lik e nothin g s o muc h a s a stunte d Caliban. True , Elizabetha n fairies wer e commonl y conceive d of a s malicious, bu t i n thi s particula r pla y b y thi s particula r author the y ar e conceive d o f a s reasonably genial . Puck , a s a matter o f fact , ha s struc k generation s o f observer s a s no t a little puckish , an d whe n h e cease s t o b e so , an d whe n hi s co-spirits los e their charm , w e are not compensate d eithe r b y the evidenc e o f research on Elizabetha n fairies a s a class or b y the opportunities seized by the costume-designers. It i s invidious to poin t i n this fashion t o production s whic h err onl y i n being typical. Ther e is place for exploratory treat ment surely , perhap s plac e fo r production s o f precisel y thi s kind; th e calamit y i s that i t i s the onl y kin d no w available . The two have bee n cited becaus e the y were sponsore d by the semi-official companie s o f Shakespeare' s London an d Shake speare's Stratford , wher e i f anywher e on e migh t loo k fo r deference t o th e poet' s conception . A t bot h theatre s a system of gues t producers has been instituted. Sinc e the sam e persons alternate as guests, forming literally an interlocking directorate , it i s difficult t o se e the purpos e o f th e syste m unles s i t b e t o

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allow tim e fo r th e person s concerne d t o approac h eac h ne w production with a new stock of notions. To cit e the views of particular producers, when these views are shared by all, is even more invidiou s than to cit e the qual ities of particular productions . I can only sa y that I have been guided in my choic e b y the desire to represent the three main types of apology by the three most distinguished spokesmen. Mr. G . Wilso n Knight , althoug h relativel y inactiv e in th e professional theatre , i s so influential as to b e truly formidable . He ma y stan d as spokesman for th e interpretive producer . Mr . Knight believe s tha t a Shakespearea n productio n shoul d b e shaped to subserve the central philosophical idea of the play as conceived b y th e produce r (Principles of Shakespearian Production, 1949 éd., pp. 35-36):

Interpretation wil l alway s be a developmen t in a ne w mediu m o f some central idea of wholeness in the original; grasp of that central idea forcing a vital re-creation. I t is the same with production.... Th e produce r shoul d be able to hold the play in jig-saw bit s in his mind, to sort them all out, t o build wit h them and recreate the whole from understandin g of its nature. Such understandin g give s hi m ful l power s t o cut , adapt , eve n o n rar e occasions, transpose, according to circumstances; he has to consider his stage, his company, his audience.

Everything i n fact , on e i s tempted t o add , excep t hi s author . Mr. Knight does not tel l us who i s to vouch for this authoritative "understandin g o f its nature" o r how w e may distinguish between th e play' s ide a an d th e producer' s ide a o f th e play . By rebuildin g wit h "jig-sa w bits " a n interpreter ma y conver t his ide a o f a Titia n int o hi s ide a o f a Picasso , an d howeve r masterful th e original painting, the contaminatio may b e merely vulgar. T o thos e producers who woul d cut , adapt , and trans pose in the happy assurance of their "grasp" we can only repeat Cromwell's cry to th e prophet s o f the Kirk intoxicate d wit h spiritual fulness: " I beseech you in the bowels of Christ think it possible that you may be mistaken." Dr. Tyron e Guthrie , wh o ha s been kind enoug h t o discuss

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these matter s wit h m e (wit h a n admirabl e absenc e of cant) , may spea k for th e vitalizing producers . Although h e defended the Old Vic treatment o f the role of the King of France, on the basis of the diversity in Shakespearean criticism, implying tha t since nothing i s certain nothing i s ruled out , hi s more seriou s view was expressed in a different connection . Afte r professing admiration fo r the productions of Granville-Barker, he added that it would nevertheless be death just to g o on in GranvilleBarker's way . Wit h thi s attitud e on e mus t hav e muc h sym pathy, bu t wherea s growt h i s evidence o f vitality , chang e i s not alway s evidence of growth . N o on e would advocat e th e servile imitation o f anything, o r a completely stati c tradition , but i t remain s tru e tha t al l goo d production s o f a particula r play mus t hav e a grea t man y feature s i n common . O n mor e philosophical ground s i t ma y b e argued tha t th e wor k o f ar t with whic h w e are concerned i s the play rathe r than th e pro duction, and the play is a.fait accompli. It cannot be equated with a living organism. The organism can change; the play can only be changed . I t canno t b e vitalized; unles s i t retain s it s initia l vitality i t ca n only b e animated. Fortunatel y thos e wh o hav e had in their custody the works of the master painters have felt no inclination t o vitalize them. The analogy is not so pointless as i t ma y seem . Althoug h th e Shakespearea n plays ar e i n a different categor y o f art i n that they invit e manipulation , th e manipulation wa s originall y designe d an d migh t stil l b e de signed merely , i n Mr . Eliot' s phrase , to complet e them ; an d although the y ar e i n th e happ y situatio n o f havin g i n thei r reproducible text s a more indestructible fabric tha n paintings, they can be at least momentarily destroyed . Miss Margare t Webster' s well-know n view s ma y b e cite d as those of the popularizing or persuasive producers. After pass ing advers e judgment , frequentl y acute , upo n on e o f th e works advocatin g productio n i n "th e origina l manner, " she says (Shakespeare Quarterly, 1952, p. 64):

89 It would b e of grea t interest to scholar s and students and some sections of the public who were already Shakespeare "convertîtes"; but in my view it would hav e the revers e effect o n th e larg e majority of audiences who, a t any rat e i n th e Unite d States , hav e to b e persuade d that Shakespear e is anything but a dead "classic" withou t moder n urgency or personal appeal.

To thi s w e ca n onl y respon d wit h anguishe d questions . Just what performance s ar e now availabl e t o th e "convertites" — those who nee d no persuasion and find it insufferable? Ar e their tears not wet , their sob s not audibl e i n the night ? Hath no t a convertite senses , affections, passions ? If yo u tickl e them , d o they not laugh? If you poison them, do they not die? The view s o f the producer s hav e no t bee n full y an d fairly represented, o r adequatel y combated . I t i s enoug h t o sho w that the y exist . Presumabl y whe n ther e wer e n o producers , there wer e n o views , an d the play s o f Shakespear e were vita l and persuasiv e in thei r ow n right , a s well as self-interpretive. To th e extent that they see m to us still so we must either shun the theatre o r be encumbered with well-meant assistance. One may venture t o say that the hiatus between plays and audience previously mentione d ca n b e close d onl y b y th e effor t o f individual members of that audience. For those who canno t or will no t mak e thi s effor t ther e ar e moder n play s to b e seen. All producer s shudde r a t th e ide a o f production s merel y archaeological, an d properly , bu t i t mus t b e pointed ou t tha t selecting fo r performanc e a three-hundred-year-ol d scrip t tends toward th e archaeological and on e should b e willing t o abide by th e consequences . There i s no us e in pretending that the old play is a new play. It may be true that there is now n o audience for the old play, but i t is difficult t o see how thi s may be determined unless it is occasionally performed. The lin e tha t ha s bee n take n ma y see m unsympathetic . Nothing has been sai d o f the producer's many troubles—with large an d costl y casts , theatr e overseer s and subventors , journalistic critics , th e absenc e (o r presence ) o f "stars, " an d th e

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inexperienced younge r actors , conning blan k verse wit h on e eye whil e watchin g wit h th e othe r fo r emissarie s from th e West End, Broadway , o r Hollywood. Let the quality o f cur rent productions be attributed to these troubles instead of to any cause suggested by me and the fact remain s the same—that th e quality is low. No on e is compelled to produce Shakespeare, or to subscrib e to th e dubiou s principle that i t i s better t o d o a thing badly than not at all. When al l i s said , however , eve n thoug h the y ma y wit h justice b e considere d th e Davenant s and Gibber s o f ou r age , the producers are the one s with who m our hopes for immediate improvemen t mus t abide . W e canno t summo n Shake speare t o writ e moder n play s or t o moderniz e hi s own. W e cannot reassembl e th e Elizabetha n audienc e t o exer t upo n twentieth-century performance s thos e pressure s that shape d both text s an d performance s i n th e firs t place . W e cannot , unhappily, revive actor-sharer troupe s with th e tradition s and competence o f th e King' s Men . Sinc e w e mus t rel y upo n producers, w e migh t profitabl y poin t ou t t o the m tha t thei r task i s even mor e difficul t tha n the y think . A Shakespearean producer should be as reverent, knowledgeable, and technically expert a s the conducto r o f a grea t symphon y orchestra . H e should eithe r refus e t o wor k wit h unqualifie d actors o r els e undertake to qualify them—in one way by concentrating upon their voices, articulation, and physical co-ordination the attention no w directe d toward s their costumes, scenic background, and business , remembering that suc h elements in an undertak ing as are least tractable may also be most important. He should know more abou t Shakespeare' s language and frame o f refer ence than the professors, and more about Shakespeare's theatre than the builders of models, not so much to imitate its methods as t o understan d thei r effect s an d t o avoi d a single-minde d devotion to some rumoured aspect. At the same time he should

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regard th e anxiety o f the professors an d model-builders t o get the recor d straigh t wit h tolerance , an d a s relevant a s his ow n conscience. Finall y he should b e a hopeful kin d o f person an d assume that i f he achieves the best , it will be appreciated, eve n in th e Unite d States , thu s imitatin g Shakespeare' s attitud e i n the unpromising purlieus of the Bankside.

APPENDIX B. ELIZABETHAN ACTING

T

3 HE ELIZABETHA N STYL E O F ACTIN G I S DISCUSSE D

nowhere in the fou r volume s of The Elizabethan Stage, and th e word acting itsel f i s missing from th e subject-index . I t i s as if Sir Edmund Chambers would crown his generosities by leaving us a playground—one precinct free for untrammelled guessing . The spor t is active, and two team s are discernible o n the field, but th e team s are not playin g wit h eac h other : the y ar e no t defending thei r ow n inference s o r attackin g thos e o f thei r opponents. Th e purpos e o f the present essay is not t o en d th e game but t o organiz e it—at least so far as that can be done b y one who enters a game not as a referee but as a player. The most conspicuous Shakespearea n criticism o f recen t year s i s based largely upo n assumption s about th e styl e i n whic h th e plays were originally acted, so that even a partisan discussion of these assumptions may prov e useful . Wha t follows i s an attempt t o define tw o alternat e style s o f acting—forma l actin g an d natural acting—then to attack the case for natural acting on the Elizabethan stag e and t o defen d the cas e for forma l acting . As spokesman for the believer s in formal acting, Miss Bradbrook may be selected: This is the general consensus of opinion on Elizabethan acting. There would be comparatively little business, and gesture would be formalized. Conven tional movement and heightened delivery would be necessary to carr y off dramatic illusion.1 'M. C. Bradbrook, Elizabethan Stage Conditions (1932), p. 109.

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A murmur sound s on the opposin g side that such is the general consensus of opinion onl y amon g thos e wh o shar e the opinion . The murmu r grow s loude r whe n Mis s Bradbrook illustrates : Joy wa s expresse d by cuttin g capers . I n Charlemagne, whe n Caneló n th e Senecal ma n i s banished, he receives the new s with a caper to sho w ho w little i t afiect s him . Two mor e message s of unfortunate news ar e brought and eac h on e elicits another caper . The traditio n o f such violent actio n is behind the most celebrated scene of The Broken Heart.2

One ma y concede that "Jo y wa s expressed by cutting capers," should rea d "Jo y wa s expresse d b y cuttin g caper s i n Charlemagne," bu t Mis s Bradbrook ha s n o fea r o f overstatin g he r case. As spokesman for the othe r side, Mr. Granville-Barke r may be calle d upon , a formidable contende r becaus e his fine criticism lends error, if error it be, an alluring guise: Shakespeare's stagecraft concentrates , and inevitably, upon opportunity for the actor. We think now of the plays themselves; their first audience knew them b y thei r acting ; an d th e developmen t o f th e actor' s ar t fro m th e agilities and funniments of the clown, and from formal repetition or roundmouthed rhetoric to imaginative interpretation of character by such standards as Hamlet set up fo r hi s players, was a factor i n the drama' s triumph that we now too often ignore.3

This is a convenient passage because it expresses so succinctly so many hard y assumptions . It assume s tha t "forma l repetition " is ba d actin g wherea s "imaginativ e interpretation " i s goo d acting; tha t Hamlet' s advic e to th e player s advocates "imagi native interpretation"; and that there was a development o f the actor's art within the Elizabethan period amounting to a change in kin d rathe r tha n a n improvemen t i n quality . Nowhere , I think, i n th e writing s o f Mr . Granville-Barke r an d hi s co believers, i s there a definitio n and illustratio n o f Elizabetha n acting equivalen t t o m y quotation s fro m Mis s Bradbrook . *M. C. Bradbrook, Themes and Conventions of Elizabethan Tragedy (1935) , p. 25. 'H. Granville-Barker , Prefaces to Shakespeare, First Series (1927), p. xxiv.

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Mere archaeology seems to be against them, and although they think wha t the y think , the y spea k cautiously in th e presence of the schoolmasters . Premises may b e judged b y conclusions, and th e conclusion s o f a considerabl e number o f writer s (a s represented b y thei r criticism ) leave u s no alternativ e bu t t o take suc h phrase s a s "imaginativ e interpretation " t o indicat e a belief that Shakespear e was originally acted much as Shaw is acted today. The term s imaginative an d interpretation can , o f course , b e applied t o forma l actin g i f w e mea n onl y tha t th e acto r ha s sufficient imaginatio n t o understan d what hi s lines mean , an d sufficient expressivenes s of voice to convey that meaning to the auditors. In this sense all acting worthy o f the name, formal or natural, i s imaginative interpretation—and s o als o i s al l goo d reading aloud. Theoretically, i f such interpretations are perfect, ten differen t actor s wil l spea k a n identica l lin e i n identica l fashion: Lowin will speak it precisely as his predecessor Burbage spoke it, an d Burbage will hav e spoken i t precisely as Shakespeare intende d i t t o b e spoken . Bu t suc h i s no t wha t Mr . Granville-Barker mean s b y hi s phrase . I n anothe r passag e h e speaks o f a n acto r dissectin g a par t an d reconstructin g it . I n other word s the actor use s his imagination an d applies its ow n products. H e doe s no t reflect , h e refracts . Hi s "imaginativ e interpretation" is what he puts into the part, no t what he, like another, mus t tak e ou t o f it. H e "create s a role." Th e latte r expression i s modern , no t Elizabethan . I d o no t believ e i t would have occurred to the Elizabethans, or that it would have been appropriat e i n thei r day . Th e phras e "imaginativ e interpretation" ha s th e viciou s propensit y t o mea n opposit e things. In the present essay it will always be placed in quotations and used in Mr. Granville-Barker's sense. It will be necessary to clarify ou r terms. Natural acting is the logical alternativ e t o forma l acting . T o illustrat e a detai l o f behaviour of the natural as opposed to the formal actor, I shall

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quote a portion o f Elena Riccoboni's description o f the "new " manner of Michel Baron, disciple of Molière: In my opinion M. Baron, generally speaking, is an excellent actor. He always listens to his fellow-actors, a thing to which, as a rule, actors pay little heed, and his attention is accompanied by such movements efface an d body as are required b y the nature of the speeches to whic h he listens. When speaking his voice is real conversation.4

Compare th e above with a passage from J. Cocke' s " A Com mon Player, " writte n i n th e yea r befor e Shakespeare' s death : "When h e dot h hol d conferenc e upo n th e stage ; an d shoul d looke directly in his fellows face; hee turnes about his voice int o the assembly . . . ."6 N o on e would car e to buil d a case upo n Cocke's remark, but his word common means "typical" and does not exemp t suc h actors as Alleyn and Burbage, whose metho d —not skill — wa s probably quit e typical . I f the whol e o f Ric coboni's descriptio n coul d b e quoted, th e distinctio n betwee n formal an d natural acting would appear explicit, bu t th e brie f extract i s suggestive. Natural actin g strives to create an illusion of reality by consistency on the part of the actor, who remain s in characte r an d tend s t o imitat e th e behaviou r o f a n actua l human bein g place d i n hi s imagined circumstances . He por trays wher e th e forma l acto r symbolizes . H e impersonate s where the formal actor represents . He engages in real conversation where the formal actor recites. His acting is subjective and "imaginative" where tha t o f the formal acto r i s objective and traditional. Whethe r h e sink s hi s personalit y i n hi s par t o r shapes the part to his personality, in either cas e he remains th e natural actor . The distinctio n betwee n th e two kind s o f acting i s not tha t one is conventional, th e othe r unconventional . Bot h ar e con 4 Quoted by K. Mantzius, A History of Theatrical Art, I V (1905), 241. For the conflict between th e old and the new manner, see Tilley, "Tragedy at the Comédie Française, 1680-1778,"MLR, XVn (1922) , 362-380 . «Ed. E. K. Chambers, Elizabethan Stage, IV, 255-257.

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ventional, bu t th e natura l acto r simplifie s an d exaggerate s within a wide range of choice whereas the formal actor simpli fies an d exaggerate s b y prescription . Th e distinctio n i s no t between emotional and unemotional acting , as Mr. Granville Barker sometime s implies . A natura l acto r ma y simulat e emotion whic h h e does not feel , an d a formal actor ma y fee l emotion which he may seem, to the sophisticated spectator, t o fail t o simulat e becaus e of th e patter n i n whic h hi s actin g i s cast. I n a n otherwis e excellen t articl e Mr . Granville-Barke r ascribes a chang e i n th e Elizabetha n metho d o f acting , an d consequently a revolutio n i n Englis h dramati c history , t o ". .. the great discovery . .. that an actor deeply move d him self, could move and entrance the motliest audience.. . ."6 Bu t the mos t emotiona l renditio n o f a play tha t I have eve r wit nessed was in a classroom, where a maiden lady read from her book, with eyes so tearful an d hands so tremulous that twenty boys marvelled at the spectacle. What was Hecuba to her or she to Hecuba? Emotionalism i s never a "discovery"; it is by definition accidenta l an d occasional ; i t ma y no t b e use d a s a principle in identifying an art form. Let Cicero testify: " . .. on the stag e I mysel f hav e ofte n observe d th e eye s of th e acto r through his mask appea r inflamed wit h fury . . . ."7 (Th e italic s are mine. ) Emotionalism , apparently, wa s in evidenc e o n th e Roman stage, but i t neither banished formal acting nor stimu lated, a s Mr . Granville-Barke r implie s tha t i t should , th e creation of great drama. The attitude that emotional acting and plays worth y o f i t ar e virtuall y inextricabl e ca n onl y b e de scribed a s curious. The displa y of emotion noticed by Hamle t was evoked while his actor was reciting lines parodying bom bast. The distinctio n between formal acting and natural acting is not , strictl y speaking , a distinctio n betwee n ol d an d new . 6 H. Granvillc-Barker , " A Not e upon Chapter s X X an d XX I o f The Elizabethan Stage," RES, I (1925), 60-71. 'De Oratore, Il.xlvii (Bonn's Classical Library, pp. 274-275).

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Acting on the stage of .iEschylus was formal, but acting on the cart of that Greek stroller, whoever h e was since he appears not to hav e bee n Thespis , ma y hav e been , fo r al l w e ca n prov e otherwise, natural . Forma l acting is as old as ritual and natura l acting is as old as the skingame ; natural acting is as contemporary a s the Theatre Guild an d forma l acting is as contemporary as the ballet . Finally th e distinctio n i s not betwee n ba d actin g and goo d acting—bu t I shall come t o tha t later . That formal and natural acting may meet through an infinite series o f gradations , tha t wha t ma y see m natura l t o on e ag e may see m formal t o th e next, is true bu t i s not availabl e as an avenue of evasion. Baron was recognized a s a revolutionary b y those who ha d see n his predecessors. There is a point of cleavage. Our proble m is, did Burbage and Alleyn act like Baron o r like Baron' s predecessors ? Or , t o attemp t t o establis h ou r distinction wher e w e need no t rel y upo n descriptions , di d the companies o f Burbage an d Alley n ac t like student s of Stanis lavsky o r lik e th e performer s i n Italian opera? I use the wor k like t o indicat e similarit y i n kind , no t quality , an d I a m no t discussing totality of effect. I am willing to jeopardize my cause by mentioning Italian opera. I trust that I am justified in assuming tha t "imaginativ e interpretation " implie s natural acting as I have defined it, and indicate s a belief that Elizabethan acting resembled, in kind, that of the Stanislavsky school. My first task is to examine the evidence upon which a belief in natural Elizabethan acting is based. Since Hamlet's advice t o the player s i s rubricated b y th e believers , I mus t quot e i t i n spite of its familiarity: Ham. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus; but use all gently: for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you mus t acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it ofiends me to the soul to hear a robustious

98 periwigpated fello w tea r a passion to tatters , to ver y rags, to spli t th e ears of th e groundlings , who , fo r th e mos t part , ar e capabl e o f nothin g bu t inexplicable dumb-shows and noise: I would have such a fellow whipped for o'er doing Termagant; it out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it. First Play. I warrant your honour. Ham. B e no t to o tam e neither , bu t le t you r discretio n b e you r tutor : suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature: for anything so overdone is fro m th e purpose of playing, whose end, bot h at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, th e mirror up to nature; to sho w virtu e he r ow n feature, scor n her ow n image , and the ver y ag e and bod y o f the tim e his form an d pressure. Now thi s overdone o r com e tardy off , thoug h i t mak e the unskilfu l laugh , canno t bu t mak e th e judicious grieve ; th e censure o f the which one must in your allowance o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, ther e be players that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gai t o f Christian, pagan , nor man , have so strutted an d bellowed , that I have though t som e o f nature's journeymen ha d made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably. First Play. I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us, sir. Ham. O , reform it altogether. And let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them:...

Hamlet's advice i s a plea for quality , and , a s such, suggest s t o the moder n reader th e styl e of acting whic h h e personally ha s come t o conside r best . Bu t examin e i t carefully , an d w e discover tha t i t describe s n o styl e o f acting . I t advocate s moderation an d goo d taste , an d coul d b e followed profitabl y in every detai l b y a natural actor , a formal actor , a student o f elocution, a lawyer, a preacher , a membe r o f Congress , o r a coloratura soprano . Through its illustrations, indeed, it suggests formal mor e tha n natura l actin g becaus e the abuse s noted are more apt to be bred by the former tha n by the latter. Tha t the actor shoul d "hold , as 'twere, the mirror u p to nature" did not mean that he should strive to produce naturalistic effects i n our sense o f th e term : Shakespear e wa s expressin g a cliché fro m classical criticism , equall y applicabl e t o al l th e arts . Befor e

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yielding t o th e suggestiveness of Hamlet's advic e t o th e play ers, on e shoul d rea d th e followin g passag e from Heywood' s An Apology for Actors: It [play-actin g at the Universities ] teachet h audacity to th e bashful l gram marian, beeing newly admitted into the private colledge, and, after matricu lated an d entre d a s a membe r o f th e University , an d make s him a bol d sophister, to argue pro et contra to compose his syllogysmes, cathegoricke, or hypotheticke (simpl e or compound), to reason and frame a sufficient argu ment t o prove his questions, or to defend any axioma, to distinguish of any dilemma, and be able to moderate in any argumentation whatsoever. To com e to rhetoricke : i t [tha t is, acting in the Universities a s before] not onely emboldens a scholler to speake, but instructs him to speake well, and with judgement t o observ e his commas, colons, and ful l points ; his parentheses, hi s breathin g spaces , an d distinctions ; to keep e a decoru m i n hi s countenance, neithe r t o frown e whe n h e shoul d smile , no r t o mak e unseemely and disguise d faces i n the deliver y of his words; not t o star e with his eies , dra w awr y hi s mouth , confoun d hi s voic e i n th e hollo w o f his throat, o r tear e hi s word s hastil y betwix t hi s teeth ; neithe r t o buffe t hi s deske like a mad man, nor stand in his pkce like a livelesse image, demurely plodding, and without any smooth and formal motion. It instructs him to fi t his phrases to his action, and his action to his phrase, and his pronunciation to them both. 8

Here is all of Hamlet's doctrine, som e of it suggested no doub t by Hamlet' s ow n words , bu t i n Heywood' s styl e an d Hey wood's context how differently i t strikes us ! To no one could it suggest natura l acting . I t suggest s rather th e "bashful l gram marian," late r th e "bol d sophister, " docilel y imitatin g hi s master's paces , faithfull y perfectin g wit h smooth and formal motion the approved gestures . All direc t contemporar y testimon y concernin g th e Eliza bethan manne r o f acting proves, upo n analysis , as equivocal as Hamlet's advic e t o th e players . Mos t o f thi s testimon y con cerns Tarleton , Kempe , Alleyn , an d Burbage . I t woul d b e 'An Apology for Actors (1612) . Reprinte d fo r th e Shakespear e Societ y (1841) , pp . 48-29.

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difficult t o bas e an y conclusion s upo n th e comment s o n Tarleton an d Kempe, sinc e they seem to have interested their contemporaries chiefl y i n thei r specialize d role o f clow n an d gag-man. A s t o Alley n an d Burbage , thei r contemporarie s were agreed that the y were splendid actors. We dar e not ru n with th e hare and hunt wit h th e hounds by claiming that th e Elizabethans progressed from formal to natural acting, and that Alleyn was of the ol d formal school and Burbage of the ne w natural school . Mr . G . B . Harriso n has crystallized this bod y of opinion i n his "Shakespeare's Actors,"9 which makes much of topica l an d satirica l suggestions in Hamlet' s advic e t o th e players. Bu t Mr . Harrison' s argument i s cancelled b y Hey wood's Apology (pp . 29,43): And this is the action behoovefull in any that professe this quality, not to use any impudent o r forced motion i n any part of the body, nor rough o r other violent gesture , nor on the contrary to stand like a stiSe starcht man, but t o qualify everything according to the nature of the person personated Among s o many [excellen t actors ] dead, let me not forge t one yet alive, in his time the most worthy famous Maister Edward Allen.

Thus all the inferences respecting Alleyn and Burbage must be reversed, dependin g upo n whethe r w e follo w Heywoo d o r Shakespeare. Truly there is not a scintilla of evidence to prov e that Alleyn's acting was different i n kind or inferior in quality to Burbage's . Both ar e highly praised , and bot h i n th e same general terms. Each is a Proteus for shapes, a Roscius for a voice: little more are we told, o f them or their fellows, and that little is not enough . Below I quote the most "specific " matter . Ben Jonson tell s us in his famous Epigra m that little Sal. Pavy ... did act, what now we moan, Old men so duly As, sooth, the Parcae thought him one He play'd so truly. 'Shakespeare and the Theatre.... B y Members of the Shakespeare Association (1927), pp. 62-87.

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Burbage's elegist affirms : Oft hau e I scene him, leap into the Graue, Suiting the person, which he seem'd to haue Of a sadd Louer, with soe true an Eye, That theer I would haue sworne, he meant to dye, Oft haue I scene him, play this part in ieast, Soe liuly, that Spectators, and the rest Of his sad Crew, whilst he but seem'd to bleed, Amazed, thought even then hee dyed in deed.I0

Then there is Hamlet again (II, ii, 544-50): Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working all his visage wann'd; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit?

Forms? What forms? Tears? a broken voice? a "visage wann'd"? the symptom s o f emotion , lik e th e inflame d eye s behin d th e mask o f Cicero' s actor ? Fo r th e rest , "hi s whol e functio n suiting" tell s u s nothing , nor , i n th e othe r passages , doe s "He play' d s o truly," or "Suitin g th e person, whic h h e seem'd to haue. " No r d o Shakespeare' s "hol d th e mirro r u p t o nature" and Hey wood's "qualif y everythin g accordin g t o th e nature o f the perso n personated. " W e ar e told what th e acto r did (i n the estimatio n o f the spectator) , bu t no t how he did it . Since the conventions o f formal acting wil l b e accepted a s just while forma l actin g prevails , testimon y lik e th e abov e i s nugatory. Equally s o i s wha t ma y b e calle d th e Germa n testimony . Fynes Moryson' s Itinerary wit h it s oft-quote d passage s con cerning th e vogue o f English actors across the channel i n 1592 , and the enthusiastic comments o f the foreign spectator s them Edwin Nungezcr, Dictionary of Actors (1929), p. 74.

10

102 selves, have led to such statements as that b y Mr. J. Isaacs in his "Shakespeare a s Man o f th e Theatre" : "Th e German s wer e impressed b y th e Englis h naturalisti c styl e o f actin g an d th e complete absorptio n o f eac h acto r i n hi s part." 11 Contrasting oddly wit h thi s i s th e commen t o f on e o f thos e supposedl y impressed b y th e "naturalisti c style." Wrot e Balthasa r Paumgartner: Here ar e som e Englis h actor s whos e play s I hav e seen . The y hav e such splendid goo d music, and are perfect i n their dancing and jumping, whos e equal I have never yet seen. There are ten or twelve of them, all richly and magnificently clothed. 12

We ca n readily detec t how Her r Paumgartne r wa s impressed. There i s furthe r commen t b y th e Germans , bu t non e o f i t proves mor e tha n tha t a nation , laggar d i n th e theatre , wa s surprised b y th e professionalis m o f th e Englis h actor s an d pleased b y thei r showmanship . Thes e actors , speaking a language incomprehensibl e t o thei r auditors , woul d increas e th e element o f pantomime i n their plays, and the Germa n response has been misinterpreted as a response to naturalistic acting. Thus fa r I have referre d t o th e view s o f thre e believer s in natural Elizabetha n acting, but the position o f these three is by no mean s th e same . Mr . Granville-Barke r make s th e appear ance of such acting await the appearance of particular qualities in th e drama; he denies it to th e performers of Tamburlaine bu t grants i t t o th e late r performer s o f hamlet.19 Mr . Harriso n grants it to Burbage but denie s i t to Burbage's contemporary , Edward Alleyn . Bu t Mr . Isaac s grant s it generousl y eve n t o second-rate Englis h actor s performin g "piece s an d patches" 14 of biblica l plays , an d mora l an d romanti c interludes , in Ger many i n 1592 . These mutuall y contradictor y position s on th e 11

Shakespcare and the Theatre, p. 93. 12 /fci'