THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES . -^ _ GO COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY PUBLISHED UNDER THE AUSPICES OF THE YALE UNIVERSITY DRAMATIC ASSOCIATION COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY BY M.VHY PORTER BEEGLE RAM)\LL INSPIRATION NK? liA^KN: VALK I'M U>Nh<>\ fUMl'HHI OXFORD IMVKHS! Mix ( ( i \^ /.OITAHH8V1] COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY BY MARY PORTER BEEGLE AND JACK RANDALL CRAWFORD NEW HAVEN: YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS MDCCCCXVI COPYRIGHT, IQl6, BY YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS First published, May, 1916 Second printing, April, 1917 College Library PREFACE THIS book is offered as a preliminary survey of some of the technical questions involved in writing and staging pageants and community drama. The main purpose has been to make the suggestions as practical as possible. For this reason there has been no attempt to trace the history of the various dramatic types discussed, nor to deal too abstractly with theories of the drama. The book itself is the outgrowth of actual experience in pageantry and] community drama.. In its outlines it is based upon the courses which the authors, both jointly and separately, have given for the last three sessions at the Summer School of Dartmouth College. These courses have been supplemented by considerable practical work in staging performances at Hanover, N. H., and elsewhere. The authors therefore hope that the state- ment of some of their problems and the discussion of the diffi- culties which, as will be seen from the following pages, are yet to be solved, will help others interested in the subject of community drama to arrive nearer their goal. In conclusion the authors wish to express their thanks and gratitude to their friends who have given generous help in pre- paring the various chapters. In particular, thanks are due to Arthur Farwell, of New York City, for criticism of the chapter on music; and to Andrew Keogh and May Hum- phreys of the Yale University library for patience in answering questions and offering aid in compiling and checking the bibli- ography. Others who have rendered great assistance by freely discussing their views on pageantry and drama are: Frank Chou- teau Brown, President of the American Pageant Association; viii PREFACE Sam Hume, of Cambridge, Mass.; H. K. Moderwell; Will Hutchins; Hue Mazelet Luquiens, who read the chapter on color; Stuart Walker, of the Portmanteau Theatre; 0. P. Heggie; F. J. Walls, of the Yale School of Fine Arts; Thomas G. Wright, of Yale; and many others. To Ira Hill acknowledgments are owing for permission to reproduce certain of the illustrations, and in particular, the picture of the Morgan dancers on the inner cover. Last of all, the authors wish to thank the various groups of students at Barnard, Yale, and Dartmouth who have loyally cooperated in several experiments and productions. MARY PORTER BEEGLE JACK RANDALL CRAWFORD BARNARD COLLEGE THE SHEFFIELD SCIENTIFIC SCHOOL OF YALE UNIVERSITY. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. THE PRINCIPLES OF PAGEANTRY AND COMMUNITY DRAMA . . 3 II. TYPES OF COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 17 HI. WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 44 IV. PRODUCTION 76 V. ACTING n3 VI. GROUPING i3o VII. COLOR i4? VIII. COSTUME AND SETTING 176 IX. THE DANCE 190 X . Music 234 XI. ORGANIZATION 266 BIBLIOGRAPHIES 279 I. DRAMA AND PAGEANT ORIGINS 281 II. RECENT BOOKS ON PAGEANTRY 290 III. GENERAL ARTICLES FROM PERIODICALS ON PAGEANTRY . . . 291 IV. OPEN-AIR THEATRES 29.5 V. ENGLISH MASQUES 297 VI. DRAMATIC TECHNIQUE 297 VII. HISTORICAL CRITICISM AND TECHNIQUE CLASSIC: ENGLAND 3oa VIII. FRANCE 3o4 IX. GERMANY 3o5 X. A SELECTED LIST OF DRAMATIC CRITICISM (FROM i85o) . . . 3o6 XI. A SELECTED LIST OF DRAMATIC CRITICISM MODERN FRENCH 3ia XII. A SELECTED LIST OF DRAMATIC CRITICISM MODERN GERMAN 3i4 XIII. PRODUCTION AND SCENIC ART 3i6 XIV. ARTICLES FROM PERIODICALS, ON PRODUCTION AND SCENIC ART 3a3 XV. ELIZABETHAN PLATFORM STAGING 328 XVI. ACTING 329 XVII. PANTOMIME 336 XVIII. COSTUME 338 XIX. COLOR 344 XX. THE DANCE 345 XXI. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY OF DRAMATIC, FOLK, AND FESTIVAL Music 35o XXII. PASTORAL DRAMA 354 XXIII. PAGEANT TEXTS 355 INDEX 357 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Inspiration Frontispiece Facing Page A Frieze (The Magic of the Hills Dartmouth) 3o Grouping and Movement Combined (Sylvia Decides Dartmouth) . . 3o Raised Back Stage and Grouping (Greek Games Barnard) 60 The Dell Theatre. Hill School, Pottstown, Pa 82 Outdoor Theatre. Dartmouth 100 Shadows. Groups in Movement (Sylvia Decides Dartmouth) .... 100 Grouping i34 Mass and Line Group i4a Grouping. Indoors (Greek Games Barnard) 1^2 Bohemian Club Stage. California 178 Setting Light and Shade (Granville Barker's production of Iphigeneia in Tauris). (Yale Bowl) 186 The Discus Thrower. Barnard 193 Joy 212 Groups in Movement and at Rest (Greek Games Barnard) 260 Grouping. Outdoors 260 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY PART I CHAPTER I THE PRINCIPLES OF PAGEANTRY AND COMMUNITY DRAMA "Plays which do not observe the classical rules must observe rules of some kind if they are to please." LESSING. MR. GORDON CRAIG has said that "when Drama went indoors it died." l This statement is worth analyzing here, not so much because Mr. Craig is an authority on theories of the drama as for the reason that the greater half of this book will be concerned with the problems of open-air plays. Is this sweeping state- ment true? Will the simple process of bringing drama back into the open air revive it? These questions require at least a preliminary survey before the practical questions of modern pageantry can be examined. The two great periods of the drama were the Greek and the Elizabethan. Both these dramas were open-air dramas, and yet in spite of this fact, Mr. Craig's asser- tion is by no means vindicated. For the moment the Greek drama may be left out. It represents a pure type of the outdoor performance whose structural aspects were determined by the conditions under which it was to be produced. Unless, therefore, Mr. Craig is prepared to maintain that all drama since /Eschylus, Sophocles, 1 See Towards a New Theatre, p. 7. 4 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY and Euripides has been lifeless, the example of Greek drama is not enough to prove his point. For no one who reads Shakespeare will believe that his greatness as a dramatist was due to the fact that he was writing for an open-air stage. The Elizabethan platform stage was a semi-outdoor stage chiefly because of the accident of its evolution from an inn-yard. Nevertheless it had a completely roofed-in back-stage and balcony, and even a large portion of the fore-stage was roofed over. More important, however, than these accidental details is the indisputable fact that Shakespeare and the other Eliza- bethan playwrights could imagine their stage at will to be the interior of a house or a blasted heath. In the Greek drama the scene was definitely the open air. In no one of the Greek tragedies were "interiors" called for. 1 Shakespeare could set his scene anywhere from the sea- coast of Bohemia to the banqueting hall of Macbeth's castle. This difference is important for the following reason: a theatre is not really an open-air theatre, whatever the accident of its architecture may be, if the dramatists who write for it do not consciously recognize it to be an open- air theatre. Thus in the Greek theatre its outdoor char- acter assisted in the creation of the dramatist's illusion; on the Elizabethan stage the afternoon sunshine must often have been a positive hindrance. At any rate the dramatists ignored it when writing their plays. A ghost 1 In certain plays the scene opens revealing an interior, but this is a different matter from conceiving the major portion of the action to be within doors. PRINCIPLES OF PAGEANTRY AND DRAMA 5 walking along the battlements at Elsinore or a knocking upon the castle gateway at midnight were incidents which defied the daylight. The illusion had to be obtained by making the magic of the poet's words seize upon the audience's imagination, and then the stage became a local habitation for anything the dramatist wished them to see. It was precisely because the dramatists were ignor- ing the limitations of their stage that Sir Philip Sidney launched his famous complaint. 1 In the end, however, the dramatists triumphed, because they were also poets. What the stage productions lacked the poet's word magic achieved. For instance, no one will doubt that the pro- duction of A Midsummer Night's Dream at the Globe fell far short of the dramatist's conception. Indeed Shakespeare himself has spoken, in the choruses of Henry the Fifth, of this gulf between what the poet's eye can see and the stage perform. Although Shakespeare was master of all the technical side of drama, as well as poet, he did not hesitate to ignore the limitations of his stage while doing all that was possible to make up for these handicaps by his mastery of word painting. Mr. Craig's assertion is in reality untenable unless he denies that the plays of Shakespeare are drama. But the statement serves a useful purpose. ma n y channels of expression to a community is not worth recalling. It will not be recalled in the form of miracle plays of course, for the thought of which it is the expression must be modern, but rather in forms which will emphasize the spirit of joyous cooperation for the benefit of all. New forms must be found for this spirit to bring forth, but if the belief is once established that art is a vital factor in the joy of living, the forms will come unsought. It is not only as a preserver of the rich traditions of the past, in which function pageantry has all the educative and social value it needs, but it is also a means whereby it^may once more be learned that art brings pleasure into life exactly in proportion as the people are sharers in the processes of its creation. Athletic games are almost the only recreation left hi which great numbers of people actually join. In all other cases, professionals are paid to furnish amusement. At the theatre, in the concert hall, even in the museum, what is seen, or heard, is the work of specialists; the majority know nothing from actual experience of what they see and hear. It is this ignorance which has led a few artists to despise their public as incapable of properly understanding art. It is true that most of the arts demand knowledge and skill in techniques long and difficult to acquire, hence beyond the reach of a busy industrial population. There are few who can obtain the leisure necessary to learn some- thing of the creative side of painting, or sculpture, or even of music. But, fortunately, this need not be true of pageantry. Its whole point lies in the fact that it is 16 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY not, and cannot be, the work of a single individual. It is a cooperative art in which there is opportunity for all to share according to the measure of their time and skill. Pageantry will not make artists of the many; no such extravagant claim as that is made for it here. The days when nearly every handicraftsman was at heart an artist and made even his common tools things of beauty have probably gone forever. The hands of a clock move only in one direction. But the writers of this book do believe that pageantry offers one means of developing a finer appreciation of art among our industrial democracy by showing the latter that they too can partake of some of art's mysteries. Further, pageantry is a rational and joyous form of recreation, fl^na outlet for the uncon- querable play-spirit which, when lacking outlets, may become a source of danger instead of a benefit. It is of pageantry and community drama as amateur arts, parallel but not competing with the theatre, that the authors of this book wish to treat. The succeeding chapters venture to present a few theoretical and practical suggestions concerning methods of approach. The field is still com- paratively untrodden and present-day experiments have been relatively few, facts which account for the tenta- tive nature of much of the advice in the following pages. Yet it is particularly true of community drama and pa- geantry that one learns by doing. All that the writers have attempted is to show some of the theories which have guided them in their own experiments, in the hope that others will carry on these experiments to their proper fruition in a democratic and national drama. CHAPTER II " The perfect art-work, the great united utterance of a free and lovely public life, the Drama, is not yet born again: for reason that it cannot be re- born, but must be born anew." RICHARD WAGNER. modern revival of pageantry was undertaken as J- a conscious and deliberate attempt to create a community art. It was never intended to link pageantry with the theatre or to make it in any sense a competitor of the latter. When Mr. Louis N. Parker produced at Sherbourne in igo5 the first of the modern pageants, his spectacle differed from all of the historical precedents which prompted his idea. And not only was the spectacle different in form from the processional pageants of the Middle Ages, but it was conceived for a different purpose. Mr. Parker's object was to stimulate civic pride and patriotism by making vivid through dramatic representa- tion certain events in the history of a particular commun- ity. It was of the essence of this plan that as many people as possible snould assist in the creation and pro- duction of the pageant. All were to unite in celebrating not the fame of an individual but the past history of their own community. 18 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY Historical pageantry, as conceived by Mr. Parker, had a considerable vogue in England, Pageants were given on an ever-increasing scale of costliness until the whole fabric of the idea threatened to collapse of its own weight. The limitations of a single type were soon reached. Apart from the cost of giving several spectacles each year in- volving thousands of performers, the historical pageant itself had a tendency to become monotonous to audi- ences. There was a similarity common to all episodic representation of history that made variety, to say noth- ing of novelty, almost an impossibility. Pageantry limited to a single type soon threatened to exhaust itself. Fortunately, however, the conception of a community drama, written and produced by the people of a town or countryside, was more vital than the particular form in which this idea had first manifested itself. It was dis- covered that pageantry need not be on a large scale, that its subject-matter need not necessarily be limited to a series of historical episodes, but that it had unlimited possibilities of variation and development. Its essential basis is its amateur and cooperative nature. As long as it fulfils these conditions, it may develop either as a local drama within a municipally owned theatre, or as a method of celebrating recurring festivals and holidays. It is with this in mind that certain types of pageantry will be described and discussed in this chapter. It is necessary to note, however, that the types here listed are not looked upon as standardized forms from which there can be no deviation, nor does this enumeration seek to preclude the possibility of new and unforseen variants. TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 19 The historical pageant is composed of dramatic or epic (narrative) episodes chosen from the events of history and prepared for representation either in dialogue and action, or by pantomime; the whole arranged in chrono- logical order. It may have either a national or local appeal, or a combination of both. A pageant of America, for example, given at Washington, would attract people from all over the United States, whereas pageants based upon the intimate histories of small communities would interest a more limited audience. It often happens, how- ever, that many small town pageants may contain epi- sodes of national rather than of purely local importance. This would be true of Concord, Massachusetts, and was equally true in the case of many English pageants. The recent development of historical pageantry in this country shows, furthermore, a tendency to divergence between the English and the American type. The English adheres more closely to Mr. Parker's Sherbourne model i.e. a chronological series of episodes. The American, on the other hand, makes freer use of allegorical interludes for the purpose of supplying a unifying thread to the other- wise unrelated historical scenes. A brief description of a few typical examples will serve to make clear these varia- tions. The historical pageant of a town or nation (English, or Louis N. Parker type) is composed of a series of episodes in chronological order, without the addition of any sym- bolical interludes or allegorical scenes. There is usually little or no attempt to add didactic elements to these pageants; instead the episodes simply unroll before the 20 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY eyes of the spectators, and the latter are rightly left to absorb for themselves the lessons of beauty and patriot- ism. Quite frequently these pageants begin with a choral prologue and conclude with a hymn to the town, or with the singing of the national anthem, but, outside of such lyric passages, the subject-matter is limited to the inci- dents of local history. The St. Albans pageant * may be taken as a character- istic example. There were eight episodes, beginning with Julius Caesar's capture of Verulamium 2 in 54 B.C., and ending with Queen Elizabeth's visit in 1672. The con- necting links between the historical scenes were supplied by a narrative chorus garbed as monks, who chanted during the intervals but took no part in the action. The apotheosis of St. Albans was the final scene, during which all the performers appeared in a processional. The Ox- ford pageant, 3 which was on a larger and more imposing scale, marked the highest achievement in artistic pageantry in England. There were fifteen episodes, from the Legend of St. Frideswide, circa 727, to St. Giles' Fair, circa 1785. The sequence of historic scenes was relieved near the middle of the performance by the introduction of the Masque of the Mediaeval Curriculum, which served as an interlude be- tween the mediaeval and the Renaissance episodes. The purely historical pageant 4 is more effective in Eng- 1 July, 1907. St. Albans, Hertfordshire. The book was by Charles H. Ashdown. 1 The name of the Roman town whose site adjoined St. Albans. 1 June, 1907. 4 For the origin of patriotic "mysteries" and pageants, see Chap. Ill of G. Bapst's Essai sur Fhisloire du theatre. These early pageant-mysteries TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 21 land than it is in America, because English history covers so wide a space of time that variety in the subject-matter and in the costuming of the episodes is easily attained. Furthermore, the English public contains far less of a foreign element, with the result that there is not the same need for an allegorical or interpretive treatment of history. The audience as a whole understand their past and the part their town has played in the life of the nation better than do American spectators, many of whom are new- comers to their community. It is not surprising, there- fore, that in the technique of pageant structure the two countries have progressed on somewhat different lines. Furthermore, the material available in this country differs in that an important element in the history of /v = 1 1>> America is the conquest of the wilderness. This conflict of man with nature cannot easily be shown save by means of allegory. The solitary pioneer pushing on into the forests, or cutting logs for his cabin, does not offer a sub- ject of which the pageant stage can make literal use. His labors and struggles must be represented in some abstract way. The things with which he contends must be per- sonified and so made visible and dramatic to the audience. Jhe introduction of a free use of allegorical interludes l has broadened the scope of American pageantry and saved it from the monotony of form which overtook this art in England. Moreover, the interlude has shown the way toward the development of other types less strictly re- celebrated the deliverance of a city from a siege, as in "Le mystere du siege d'Orleans" the first one recorded. 1 For more specific descriptions of the interlude, see Chap. Ill on Writing the Pageant Book. 22 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY lated to the historical. In general, it may be said of the interlude that it adds dramatic as well as spectacular elements to a pageant, while it also offers opportunities for variations in the gt.niftiiral Another source of excellent material for American pageantry is found in the numerous myths and legends of the Indians. The Indian has not yet come into his own in our pageants. Too often he is relegated to an opening episode in which white settlers bargain with him for land. But it is possible to write whole pageants around the Indians, or at least to relieve the historical scenes by the introduction of a dramatized Indian legend. Through a wider use of our available Indian folk-lore the American pageant would gain in variety of incident. As has been said, the distinction between the historical pageant in England and in America consists principally in the fact that in this country interludes are added to the historical episodes. The Pageant of the Mohawk Trail l illustrates this difference. The pageant began with an introduction entitled "The Waters Recede." This was a purely symbolic representation of certain nature forces. Between the seventh and eighth episodes in the first part there was another interlude, "The Protest of the Pines," a dramatization of the forest's complaint against man's encroachment. In the third part there was a different type of interlude, "The Spirit of Industry," personifications of man's varied occupations, and, last of -all, "The Mohawk Trail of the Present and Future." This use of the vision of the future is another character- 1 By Miss Margaret Maclaren Eager. North Adams, Mass., June, igi4. TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 23 istic common to many American pageants. The vision is generally an elaborate allegory, since it is also the finale in which all the characters of the preceding episodes are present. Occasionally the first scene, instead of being an allegory, will be laid in England and will show the settlers about to start on the voyage to America. The authors' Pageant of Elizabeth l contained interludes of several types. The prologue showed "The Red Man's Vision of the Land." Indians were seen going about their tasks of hunting, fishing, and making camp. Then there came a dance of spirits of the inland waters. Finally, there passed before the Indians the spirits of field and forest. The purpose was to show the Indian dwelling among these nature spirits but unable to control them or to make them serve him save in elementary ways. After two or three succeeding historical episodes, "The Vision of the Early Settlers" followed. Here the pioneers re- ceived their first glimpse of the possibilities of the land to which they had come, there was even visible to them a vague and shadowy outline, very dim as yet, of the city that was to be. The next interlude was introduced, in the form of a dream, into a historical episode dealing with the founding of the College of New Jersey. This method of combining history and allegory is not often followed and is not, in fact, recommended by many pageant workers. In this case the episode happened to lend itself to such treatment. After the Revolutionary period there was a patriotic interlude of "The New Free- dom," and the pageant ended with a symbolical "Vision 1 Given at Elizabeth, New Jersey, Oct. iQi4- 24 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY of the Elizabeth of the Future." Three or four historical episodes were usually presented between each two inter- ludes. / The interlude not only gives variety to the pageant } F and scope to the writer's imagination, but it allows the attention of the audience to relax. It is particularly true of dramatic representations, whether these be in a theatre or on a pageant stage, that the spectators cannot be kept keenly attentive all the time. Historical episodes demand a close attention on the part of an audience. Many of these episodes are not strikingly dramatic, and a long suc- cession of them without variety or interruption proves tiresome. *l^jhe~lnterlude, with its lavish use of music, dance, and color, affords just the needed relaxation for the spectators' minds. The most spectacular of the American pageants, as well as the largest and most artistic, was that of St. Louis. 1 The performance was divided into two parts: a pageant of three historical episodes, covering the actual founding of the city, followed by a masque. The spectacle was elaborate and required an unusually large number of performers. Consequently the text was intended to be read rather than heard. The almost equal division be- tween the pageant and the masque marked another experi- ment characteristic of the freedom of American pageant types. The masque, in this instance, was not a mere interlude in the pageant; it equalled the pageant in im- portance. 1 Given at St. Louis, Mo., May, igi4- The pageant by Henry Wood Stevens; the masque by Percy MacKaye. TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 25 The next type to be considered is the pageant based upon the history of an institution. 1 The institutions that have helped to make a nation great offer as satisfactory material for pageantry as do its towns and cities. The growth and development of the English Church, for ex- ample, or of the army or navy, lend themselves to treat- ment in pageant form. As the appeal of these pageants is national rather than local, they are more appropriate for production in the larger cities. Thus, in the English Church Pageant, parishes and dioceses from all over England sent representatives to act in the various scenes. This is, in general, an ideal way to obtain actors for pageants of national appeal. In its structural aspects the institutional pageant is similar to the historical type. For example, the English Church Pageant was composed of a series of episodes in the history of the Church, including such splendidly dramatic scenes as the coronation of William the Con- queror and the murder of Thomas a Becket in Canterbury Cathedral. A faithful reproduction of the performance of a miracle play upon a wheeled platform stage (or "pa- geant" in the mediaeval sense of the word) was another feature. Again, in the English Army Pageant the episodes 1 An interesting early type midway between a miracle play and an alle- gorical pageant was Mathieu Malingre's La Chrestienle rnalade, performed at Hochelle in i5fx). The characters and their costumes are worth noting: Faith wore white; Hope, violet; Charity, scarlet. Good works was a well- to-do merchant; Christianity, a lady of wealth; the Blind Man and the Varlet "en haillons" like beggars; Hypocrisy as a nun; Sin in a double costume, in front resembling a noble woman, and behind resembling a devil. The Doctor and the Apothecary wore the contemporary dress of their pro- fession, while Inspiration appeared as an Angel with wings. 26 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY presented not only famous battles but also scenes which illustrated the evolution of weapons and of tactics. Other forms 9f institutional pageants are those portray- ing the histories of schools or colleges. These are not community affairs, yet they may have value and interest to the community to which the institution belongs. They are not, therefore, to be barred from the democracy of pageantry. One of the earliest of these pageants in America was in the form of scenes from the history of Yale College, 1 shown at the time of the Bicentennial of Yale in 1901. This performance anticipated many of a similar nature which have since been given elsewhere in fact, the bicentennial pageant of Yale was four years in advance of Mr. Parker's pageant at Sherbourne. The possibilities of school and college pageants offer one of the most fruitful fields for the development of the art in America. 2 The historical pageant of ideas is sufficiently distinct from the institutional pageant both in subject-matter and in treatment to require a separate classification. The widest range of topics may be drawn upon for these pa- geants. Education, Science, the Renaissance, if their con- tributions to the progress of thought are expressed in dramatic form, are appropriate themes. The main object in the treatment of any such theme is to show the his- torical evolution of the idea. Almost of necessity this 1 Written and devised by Professor E. B. Reed of Yale. Pageants have been given at several colleges since this time, notably at Holyoke and at Vassar. The latter two were among the most artistic of American pageants. 1 Yale is to repeat the experiment by giving a great pageant in the Bowl in October, 1916. TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 27 evolution is developed in the form of an allegory, since these abstract ideas cannot be dramatized unless they are first personified. Specific episodes, however, may be realistically treated, by showing how the idea affects the life of man in given centuries. But it is necessary first to base the whole structure upon a clear and consistent allegory of which the realistic episodes are pictorial com- mentaries or explanations. Naturally, the artistic success of this type depends upon the poetic imagination of its creator. Nothing is more dull or dreary than a thin and uninspired allegory dragged out over two hours. Such a pageant is the most difficult of all to create, for it really demands a poet. If it is presented in a trite and unimagi- native way it will not stir the emotions or minds of its spectators. Among the various forms which pageantry can take, festivals and the celebrations of special occasions by pageant-like ceremonies must not be overlooked. These festivals and ceremonies were, of course, characteristic of mediaeval life, and in reviving them pageant workers are carrying on a tradition which has never been wholly in- terrupted. May Day, Harvest Home, Halloween, and Christmas have all managed to retain some of their popu- lar ceremonial and festival spirit. The modern patriotic holidays, such as Washington's Birthday, the Fourth of July, Labor Day, and the Puritan Thanksgiving are oppor- tunities for the creation of an American festival tradition. A brief description of one or two of the mediaeval and Renaissance festivals may be of help in suggesting ideas for modern celebrations. In Portugal there was an elabo- 28 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY rate form of processional pageant known as the "ballet ambulatoire." During the celebration of the canoniza- tion of Cardinal Borromee at Lisbon the pageant was devised on a magnificent scale. First of all a richly decorated ship with multi-colored sails and silken cordage entered the harbor. On its deck was a pavilion of cloth of gold enshrining the figure of the new saint. Upon the approach to the roadstead this ship was met and escorted into the harbor by all the vessels in the port. Salutes were exchanged and the guns of the forts were fired. At the quay-side the ship was welcomed by all the grandees of the State accompanied by the religious, civil, and mili- tary orders. The figure of the saint was disembarked with solemn pomp and the march through the city began. Four magnificent floats representing respectively the Palace of Fame, the City of Milan, Portugal, and the Church were the chief items of the parade. About these floats were groups of mimes and dancers, who acted, with a musical accompaniment, the principal events in the life of the saint. From every house were hung splendid tapestries, and arches of flowers were placed at intervals across the streets. In the public squares were fixed plat- forms upon which dancers performed while the procession halted. The pageant ended with the enshrining of the image in the cathedral. The combination of sea and land pageantry in these ballets ambulatoires was the noteworthy feature. In a measure the Hudson-Fulton celebration in New York in 1909 made an attempt to combine naval with land pa- geantry but the two were not coordinated by any definite TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 29 and consistently carried out plan. Much more could be done to take advantage of the opportunities offered by river and harbor for adding new elements to modern pageantry. 1 Another distinctive type of festival was the French Carrousel. This, as its name implies, was a mounted spectacle given by nobles, officers, and men of cavalry regiments. In 1612 a great carrousel was held at Paris in the Place Royale to celebrate the wedding of the young king Louis XIII. It lasted for three days and the prepa- ration was on an enormous scale. The most elaborate of all was the Carrousel of 1662 held in the gardens of the Tuileries. A large square was marked out and enclosed with a double barricade. At one end an amphitheatre for the spectators was erected. In addition to horse races and a series of contests something like a modern gym- khana, the performers were divided into sections represent- ing different nations. The King marched at the head of the first group or "quadrille." He impersonated a neo- classic Roman emperor, to judge from the quaint design of his costume. His brother and his followers were Per- sians, the Prince de Conde led the Turks, the Due d'Enghien the East Indians, while it is interesting to note that the Due de Guise and his escort were supposed to be Ajnerican "savages." The costumes were ornate, but could hardly be described as accurate. Thus, the Due de Guise, in his habit as redskin chieftain, wore upon his head a literal forest of ostrich feathers attached to a species 1 The Cape Cod Pageant, August, igi4. did, as a matter of fact, make use of the sea as well as the land. 30 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY of Grecian helmet about which was coiled a gold serpent. A tight fitting tunic ending in a skirt covered with gilt scales completed his idea of an American Indian. The mane and tail of his horse were intertwined with a great number of serpents. The effect was imposing, if nothing else. The carrousel had a plot or theme usually chosen from classic mythology, and episodes based upon skill in horse- manship. In one sense these carrousels were revivals of mediaeval tournaments and some of the older traditions, such as jousting and the awarding of prizes by a queen of the tournament, were incorporated with them. Similar to the carrousel was the cavalcade. This was a processional pageant in which the majority of the par- ticipants were on horseback. They were a feature of the carnival both in France and Italy. French Flanders developed a special type of cavalcade 1 for certain annual occasions such as the Festival of the Giant at Douai and the Festival of the Incas at Valenciennes. As far as the authors are aware there has been no attempt made by modern pageantry to revive these mounted spectacles, 2 but should there occur a favorable opportunity to adapt such a spectacle to present-day conditions the experiment would be worth making. 1 These cavalcades were a part of the "ducasse," a local annual festival which lasted for several days. The principal ducasses were those of Lille, Douai, Valenciennes, Cambrai, and Conde. Originally they were religious, usually being associated with the local patron saint. After the revolution, however, the religious element almost entirely disappeared. * Of course horses and cavalry are used in historic pageantry, but only because they are incidental to the episodes. A FRIEZE (The Magic of the Hills Dartmouth) CinOUMNC AM) MoVKMKVr (., \IIUN] I. (.Sv/r/ Ikviiks I >. ii i in. .nth TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 31 These historic types have been cited because they sug- gest ways in which modern festivals can be still further developed. To turn, now, to suggestions for the celebra- tion of our patriotic holidays by means of pageantry, the pageant worker is confronted with the necessity of creating a popular tradition. In the case of Independence Day, for example, about the only ceremonial traditions associ- ated with it are noise, fireworks, perhaps the reading of the Declaration of Independence, and a few speeches by local celebrities. What is needed is a definite ceremonial tradition which will become associated in the popular mind with the Fourth of July and thus emphasize the meaning of the day. This matter has been thoroughly and adequately treated by Mr. William Chauncey Lang- don ina pamphlet entitled The Celebration of the Fourth of July by Means of Pageantry. 1 Mr. Langdon points out that a single episode dealing with the particular event for which the day is noteworthy may form the key-stone of the celebration. Thus, for the Fourth of July, a suit- able episode would be a dramatic scene representing the signing of the Declaration of Independence. It is, of course, appropriate to commemorate this or any other holiday by a general pageant, but in such a case the structure of the pageant would keep clearly in view the special significance of the day. Mr. Langdon suggests that one way to mark the difference in structure between a historical pageant and one designed to commemorate a particular day is to emphasize the lyric quality of the latter. Music and dance are more characteristic of the 1 See bibliography. For further details consult Mr. Langdon's pamphlet. 32 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY festival spirit than is the more rigid structure of dramatic episodes. Each of the patriotic holidays has its own problem, which needs to be studied separately. For example, Lin- coln's Birthday, or Washington's, could be treated either through pageantry designed to recall the great events of these men's careers, or the events could be generalized in terms of the national crises from which they delivered their country. Of course in most of the states these holi- days would have to be celebrated indoors because of the season of the year. But there still remains Labor Day, which comes when the weather is at its best for outdoor pageantry. Little has as yet been done with this holiday except to organize parades of workers. Curiously enough there seldom seems to be any coherent plan governing the relation of the units of these parades to each other. Each group chooses its own float and its own uniform without regard to the selections made by the others. Conse- quently these parades have no purpose and no meaning. Such impression as they make is achieved mainly through the numbers of the participants. Without presuming to advance any precise plan for a Labor Day ceremonial, it is possible to make a few sug- gestions which would give the holiday more meaning than it has at present. Each trade might design floats to show the evolution of the separate industries from the begin- nings to the present day. Metal workers could portray primitive man working at his crude forge; then the mediaeval craftsmen with their apprentices; and so on to the wonders of modern lathes and machine tools. Or TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 33 again, fire as the servant of the toiler might be the theme of another parade. The history of organized labor itself, from the days of John Ball and the peasant rebellions to modern democracy triumphant, would furnish material for a splendid pageant. There is no lack of subject-matter nor is the cost of pageant parades necessarily heavy. The expense need be no greater than is spent upon the form- less processions of the present. Ah* that is required is a plan in which all will agree to cooperate. Definite steps have already been taken in many cities to make Christmas Day more of a community celebration. In New York a municipal tree has been set up in Madison Square and a choir has led the assembled crowd in singing carols and hymns. Last year (191 5) Mr. Stuart Walker's Portmanteau Theatre was added and performances of little plays written for the occasion were given. St. Paul, Minnesota, is another city which has appreciated the com- munity value of Christmas. This movement seems about to gather headway and soon the tradition of such cele- brations ought to become well established. Among the days which have no patriotic nor religious significance, yet are suitable for celebration through pageantry, May Day is unquestionably first. Its traditions are an epitome of some of the most cherished customs of English-speaking peoples. Likewise, it occurs at a sea- son of the year favorable for outdoor festivals. De- scended from village agricultural festivals, it long retained its community character. Many of the characteristic English folk-dances and songs are associated with May Day revels. Although of late it has fallen into the hands 34 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY of children, like so many old customs, it has never been entirely forgotten. Perhaps the latter fact is due to the frequent references to May Day in English literature. Because of its associations it is a festival peculiarly appro- priate for revival. /jlie method of. its celebration might be a spectacle centred about old customs such as village games, folk-dances and songs. These could be woven together by a slight thread of story related to the day. Or the historical features might include a reproduction of village revels in Elizabethan England, such as the setting up of a May Pole on the green with its picturesque and ancient ceremonies. There is plenty of material in May Day customs to satisfy the most exacting historian, even if his subject-matter deals with folk-lore and tradition rather than with historic personages and events. Bryn Mawr College has for a long time celebrated May Day at intervals of four years by performing an Eliza- bethan masque or pastoral in the open air. A few of our other schools and colleges have followed, but community celebrations, except for children, have been comparatively infrequent in this country. 1 The Woman's Park Club of Walla Walla, Washington, gave a Pageant of May, 2 written by Professor Garnett. The pageant was in two parts, a Masque of Prosperpine and The Revels of May. The former symbolically dealt with the return of spring, while the second part was based upon the traditional English May 1 Note, however, the extensive and organized May Day ceremonies of the public school children of New York in Central Park. 2 May 22-28, 1914. TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 35 Day celebrations. Robin Hood and his merry men were included, but the morris dance was omitted on the ground, as stated by the author, that it has no significance in America. On questions of this sort namely, what to include and what to omit every pageant writer is en- titled to be a law unto himself. The purpose of pageant celebrations is to build anew while preserving the best of the old traditions. The only safe rule is for a writer to make a thorough study of the history of the day he is to celebrate, and then decide how he wishes to carry out his festival. 1 If pageantry is to become a permanent element in modern life, it will probably be in the form of festivals and ceremonies in connection with our holidays. At the same time it should develop a local drama parallel with the festival. The historical pageant is too large and too costly an undertaking for production at any but infrequent intervals. Once a community has given a great pageant it is unlikely that the same city will repeat it until several years have elapsed. On the other hand, a community which has given a successful pageant is left with a desire to make further use of its knowledge of dramatics. The study of costume designing, dancing, and music, as well as of the thousand and one other details of a spectacle, will have been made to no purpose if it is all to be givea up and forgotten at the end of the pageant. Annual 1 Thus in studying the origin of May Day customs, Vol. I, Chap. VIII of Chambers' The Mediaeval Slaye will be found excellent. Charles I^amb's A Masque of Days, with illustration* by Walter Crane (in the modern edi- tion), is a delightful fantasy on the days of the year. It is not, however, in dramatic form. 36 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY holiday festivals offer one method of continuing the lessons learned from pageantry; pageant drama offers another. Pageant drama has had as yet but few experimental trials as a community art. Even when local groups have interested themselves in the drama, it has been more or less for the sake of the amusement to be derived from "amateur theatricals." Seldom were the plays themselves the product of local writers, nor was there much idea of stimulating interest beyond the particular performance in view. After an experience with historical pageantry, however, it should be easy to organize one or more groups anxious to carry on and still further develop their dramatic skill. Like historical pageantry, pageant drama should be the work of the community from the writing of the text to the finished production. The subject-matter itself, as far as may be, should be local. Nearly every town has a real or legendary hero, or a tradition, which would make good dramatic material. There are always the Indian legends if all else fails. After the material close at hand has been exhausted, more ambitious themes could be tried. The entire field of folk-lore, classic mythology, and history is open to the writers of pageant drama. There are as many possible types of pageant drama as there are of regular drama. It is unlike the drama of the professional stage, however, in that it is written to be acted by amateurs and its plot may have only a local appeal. Furthermore, it may be constructed to fit a particular outdoor stage and thus have its representation limited to a given set of conditions. Strictly speaking, TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 37 there is no hard and fast line which differentiates the structure of pageant drama from that of the spectacular plays of the commercial theatre. The limitations imposed upon pageant drama as a community art are simply those implied in amateur acting and representation on an open- air stage. The emotional content of pageant drama should be simple since amateur actors are unable to express pro- found emotion, while the problem of staging a play out- doors also necessitates simplicity in plot treatment. 1 Like the historical pageant, however, pageant drama places its chief emphasis upon pictorial values. The simplicity of plot and the inexperience of the actors are compensated for by the beauty of the coloring and group- ing. Therefore its tone and atmosphere are usually poetic and romantic. Like the regular drama, again, its story concerns the adventures of a single hero. In the historical pageant the community is the hero; in pageant drama the hero is a real or legendary individual. A better understanding of the general type which has been described as pageant drama may be had by references to some specific plays. The Elizabethan chronicle history plays are representative of the structural form of pageant drama. Shakespeare's Henry the Fifth, with its dramati- zation of the warrior king and his conquest of the French at Agincourt, illustrates the kind of pageant drama which treats of history and is yet not a historical pageant in the modern sense. In these chronicle-history plays the historic 1 Or if an amateur pageant drama is given upon an indoor stage, the chances are that the scenic equipment will be on a simple scale. See Chap. IV on Production. 38 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY events are limited to those of a single reign. The time covered does not exceed the life of the principal charac- ter in fact the incidents may include but a brief portion of the hero's career. To-day, for example, if a dramatist were to portray the life of George Washington, say in a drama intended for performance at Mount Vernon, his method of composition would closely resemble that of the chronicle history play, and the result would be pageant drama, not a historical pageant. Certain of Mr. Louis N. Parker's plays written for the professional theatre are in reality pageant dramas as for instance Drake. Continuity of plot, in plays of this type, is often sacrificed for the sake of a series of varied and picturesque incidents having a particular period for a background. In Drake the pictures of the times, of Elizabeth and her court, are of equal importance with the actions of the hero. Unity is achieved by the total impression instead of by a closely knit story. Many scenes in this type of drama might stand by themselves, so little are they causally connected with the other. Of course if a pageant drama is intended for the open air, it must be written so as not to be dependent for its success upon scenic effects. A locality may be changed on the outdoor stage, it is true, by a little stretching of theatrical convention, but it is obvious that this should not be done unless a change of scene is unavoidable. A production of Henry the Fifth would be more artistic in the open air than one of Mr. Parker's Drake, quite apart from any comparison of literary merit. Shakespeare wrote for a platform stage and was not daunted by imagining a cock- TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 39 pit the "vasty fields of France," whereas the deck of Drake's flagship demands the scenic accessories of a modern theatre. In Shakespeare the background and coloring is found in the words of his lines. Mr. Parker's drama would be somewhat bare and meagre without its stage scenery. The point which this comparison illustrates is a sufficiently trite one, yet it cannot be too often empha- sized: a play of whatever nature should be written with a knowledge of the conditions under which it is to be produced. As has been said earlier in this chapter, pageant drama is not restricted to historical subjects. Folk-lore, the legends of King Arthur and of Robin Hood, the stories and mythology of ancient Greece, 1 even the Biblical narra- tives, all furnish unlimited plots for pageant drama. An example of a pageant drama based upon local Indian legends was the authors' The Magic of the Hills. 2 Frag- ments of two or three stories were woven together, par- ticular care being taken to keep the plot simple and to adapt it to the kind of outdoor stage on which it was to be produced. The object was to create a drama which was not so elaborate as a historical pageant, one requiring less time to prepare and rehearse, and yet within the range of amateur acting. Another advantage of pageant 1 About 17^1 Servandoni, scene-designer for the Paris Op6ra, gave in the Tuileries a series of spectacles which one could describe to-day as "pageant-drama," Among the titles of these plays one notes The History of Pandora, "with special lighting effects"; /Eneas' Descent into Hades; The Various Adventures of Ulysses; Hero and I^eander; and an allegorical series of tableaux entitled The Crowning of Constancy. See Bapst, p. 4?7- J Produced at Hanover, N. H., in August, 40 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY drama is that it requires fewer performers. About two hundred people were used in The Magic of the Hills, but a successful open-air play would be possible on a small stage with fifty. A modern processional pageant is closely akin to the mediaeval "triumph." This type, with proper care and study, may be made most artistic, but it is more difficult for the pageant master to control. Many organizations, such as local fire-companies, may properly insist upon their right to take part, and how best to dispose of these incongruous elements is the chief problem the pageant director must solve. In general, the processional pageant is historical in purpose, with "floats" intended to represent important scenes in tableaux form. Impersonations of local heroes, as well as historic groups, may be added. It goes without saying that if various organizations wish to join the parade and cannot, at the same time, be per- suaded to doff their uniforms for historic clothes, the pageant must be divided into two parts. The first part will comprise the historical and allegorical portions of the procession, the second part all the rest, militia, fire- department, and . civic societies and organizations. On one matter, however, an efficient pageant master is privi- leged to be firm. He should refuse permission to combine with his parade local advertising features, unless he has on hand the problem of a purely industrial and economic pageant. In the latter case, he can plan beforehand and insure that his procession is not composed of independent and inharmonious elements. Much could be done to make industrial pageants worth while, if the business men of a TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 41 community would consent to trust the planning to an experienced committee. We should then be spared the local milk-wagon decorated with red, white, and blue bunting, followed by a moving-van covered with flags. An artistic industrial parade would be better advertising both for a town and for the firms taking part than the usual attempts at such affairs. The mascRie and pastoral are dramatic typea, which re^ semble eachjrther. They might also he listed aa variants of pageant drama. Nevertheless they do possess certain distinctive characteristics which seem to entitle them to~a separate classification. The masque is a short allegorical play 1 in which the principal characters are personifications of ideas, or, as in Percy Mackaye's -The Masque of St. Louis, the hero of the masque is the personification of the community. Thp yalii*> ^ f a "msqim ia in proportion to the poetic feeling which it expresses. It differs from the pageant of ideas in that it does not set forth the growth or evolution of its subject, but presents its theme in a single unified treatment. Usually a masque is on a smaller^ scale than a pageant, thus requiring fewer performers-and lesJL elaborate preparations. Communities too small to 1 Cf. H. A. Evans' description of an Elizabethan masque in his English Masques, p. 3/j: "The masque, then, is a combination, in variable pro- portions, of speech, dance, and song, but its essential and invariable feature is the presence of a group of dancers, varying in number, but commonly eight, twelve, or sixteen, called Masquers. These masquers never take any part in the speaking or in the singing; all they have to do is to make an imposing show and to dance." Gradually these masquers elaborated their entry and their importance in the performance until they acted a little drama in itself. This antimasque, as it was called, was a foil or contrast, sometimes in humorous form, to the masque. 42 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY attempt more elaborate and costly forms can present masques without encountering insuperable obstacles. The writing of a masque is the most difficult part, because like all allegorical material, it demands the vision of a poet not necessarily, however, his technical skill. In every community there are people with poetic vision who perhaps cannot express themselves in polished lyrics, yet may find in the creation of a masque an unexpected outlet for their imaginations. The pastoral, another of the historic forms of dramatic composition, is a delicate and flexible type of lyric drama. 1 It is particularly suited, when studied from a fresh point of view, for outdoor festivals, especially those connected with the spring, summer and autumn. Like the masque, it may be performed by only a few characters. In its structure the plot is more or less an excuse for song, dance and dainty grouping. Its spirit is governed by the occa- sion for which it is devised. This spirit also unifies the plot which would otherwise dissipate itself in a search for pure beauty. The chief danger is that paucity of idea will be concealed under music and dance. Keeping in mind, however, the value of unity of structure, the pastoral is capable of the most diverse treatment. For small agricultural communities it is ideal. Often towns and f 1 Cf. Greg's definition, p. 33g: "The romantic pastoral in England was a combination of the Arcadian drama of England with the chivalric romance of Spain, as familiarized through the medium of Sidney's work, and also, through less consistently, with the never very fully developed tradition of the mythological play. In form, again, it may be said to represent the mingling of the conventions of the Italian drama with the freer action and more direct and dramatic presentation of the romantic stage." See also Chap. II of Jeanette Mark's English Pastoral Drama. TYPES OF DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 43 villages are too new or lack the population necessary for the historical pageant, but there is no reason therefore why they should not share in the joy of pageantry. Through the pastoral or the masque they will be able to have some measure of that self-expression which larger communities find in historical pageantry. It is clear from a consideration of the types suggested that pageantry is capable of an infinite number of varia- tions and combinations. There is no reason why pageant workers should single out the historical pageants as the only orthodox form. To do so is to condemn pageantry to ultimate stagnation. The historical pageant exhausts the possibilities of this art too quickly. Towns and cities cannot be expected to go on presenting historic episodes at regular intervals. If pageantry is of value, surely that value is not extracted to the uttermost by one year's efforts. The purpose of pageantry, on the contrary, is to create a desire for community expression through the drama. It is essential, therefore, for pageantry continu- ally to experiment, with the object of developing new forms, that it may have fresh means for keeping alive its art. Vital things grow. To define and standardize is to kill. The original pageant worker does not bother much with definitions. What he desires above all is to achieve artistic results of permanent value. With that goal in view, he will not be bound by a single type, but he will exercise his crea- tive powers in inventing new forms, appropriate to the cir- cumstances and conditions in each case. There is only one thing to remember that the ideal of pageantry is to give the community self-expression through a beautiful art. CHAPTER III WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK " The dramatist is judged by the same standard of criticism that applies to other creative artists." WILLIAM POEL. r I THE book for a historical pageant may be the product JL of a single author, of two or more collaborators, or of a committee working under the direction of a chair- v man. It is advisable, even when one person is responsible for the text as a whole, to appoint a historical censor and a committee to assist in gathering materials. If time is limited, collecting the facts should be divided among several groups, since the problem of studying the historical materials, choosing and constructing the episodes, and writing the dialogue would be too great a burden for one man. The ideal way is not to write a pageant in haste. Unfortunately, in practice it is frequently necessary to prepare a text in a few weeks' time. The group-system of preparing the text has the advan- tage of admitting more people to a share in the creative work of the pageant, but its disadvantages need careful consideration before this plan is adopted. Unless the committee is under the direction of a competent chair- man, or possesses an unusual number of members with literary ability, the result might be an unsatisfactory or a WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 45 loosely constructed text. 1 Hence a thorough investiga- tion of the literary talent available in the community is necessary before appointing the committee. In any event, whether the text is written by a committee or by an author working with or without collaboration, 2 the pageant mas- ter's decision must be final on all questions concerning the selection, length and structure of the episodes. He should have a free hand to add anything or to reject any- thing that in his opinion is unsuitable. Therefore the first step in writing the book is to make the pageant master an arbiter from whose decisions there can be no appeal. The work of preparing the book for the historical pa- geant falls into three main divisions: gathering materials, selecting and outlining the structure of the episodes, and writing the dialogue. These three sections will be dis- cussed in the order named. There are three main sources of historical material: (a) Primary sources. These are original documents of all kinds, such as town records, acts of the legislature, decisions of the courts, contemporary newspapers, placards and pro- clamations, diaries of public or private men, and official or private correspondence. (6) Secondary sources. These are historical writings based upon primary sources. They may be either histories of the town, state or nation, or even sometimes historical fiction, (c) Local traditions. These 1 This method was, however, successfully followed at Oxford and in pre- paring the Yale Pageant. * As Wagner said: "The true artist finds delight not only in the aim of his creation, but also in the very process of creation, in the handling and moulding of his material. Tho very act of production is to him a gladsome, satisfying activity; no toil." Art and lievolulion, p. 48. 46 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY traditions are sometimes associated with particular events in the history of the town, or refer to the careers of indi- vidual families. The primary sources are naturally the most important. To these the author goes for his facts, for an accurate account of the principal events in the history of the com- munity. The secondary sources are useful guides which indicate the probable path to be followed. The local traditions are sometimes the most valuable of all. Tra- dition has a knack of preserving local color and vivid details which are not worth the dignity of formal record. Nevertheless it is in these very details that is found the material which gives vitality to the completed episodes. Much study and research, therefore, are necessary be- fore the author is equipped to write his text. He must remember that he is more than a story-teller seeking for plot material. If the pageant is to have any real value, its builder must share some of the responsibility of a historian which is another way of saying that he must know his subject. He must grudge neither time nor effort to assimilate his knowledge. He will avail himself of all the advice and help obtainable in acquiring his facts. If he is a stranger to the community and ignorant of its detailed history, his task is correspondingly greater. On the other hand, it frequently happens that local enthu- siasm over the pageant will unlock private diaries and correspondence which have not been hitherto available to the writers of history. Therefore the pageant author should be a man of some training in estimating the value of historical material. He often has to weigh conflicting WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 47 testimony concerning certain events and decide for him- self what really occurred. In doing all this, he will, of course, check his results by the work of the historians who have been over the ground before him. Only the strongest evidence from primary sources will justify him in any new interpretation of the accepted facts. Never- theless secondary sources are far from infallible. Indeed, their accounts are often distorted by prejudice or warped to fit a particular theory. When the author's own re- searches uncover apparent mistakes or distortions of this kind, it is his duty to come to his own decision in the matter. After going over all his materials, his final notes will be a fairly complete outline of the principal events in the history of the community. As these notes were gathered, they should have been accompanied by a card-index indicating in each case the source from which the material was derived. For example, here is an imaginary card showing the way information should be entered for future reference :- SPECIMEN CARD i664 Purchase of the Land ^General title] For a copy of the indentures, see State Records, vol. I, p. 26. Reprinted with annotations in Historical Society Transactions, vol. Ill, p. 96. First contemporary account of the transaction, see Diary of Ephraim Wilson, p. 43 diary in public library, call no. Hj. 127,3. Secondary sources: See Wilkie, Hist, of the State, vol. I, p. 90. Tradition: Ephraim oftVred to marry the Chiefs daughter. (Ask Mr. J - about this.) 48 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY This sample card is offered merely as a suggestion for one way of systematizing the collection of the material. It is, of course, important to have some method that will enable the author to refer back to the sources for every fact he uses. In order to get access to his facts, the writer must secure the cooperation of ah 1 those to whom materials have been entrusted for safe-keeping. Public records are nearly always available upon showing proper references. Usually they cannot be removed from the building in which they are kept. The local librarian's advice and services are invaluable. He has a knowledge of material beyond that in his own library, is informed concerning the location of public records, and, in most cases, has at hand a bibli- ography of local histories and documents. Nearly every town possesses, in addition, an antiquary who has made the study of the community his life hobby. He has been at much pains to gather tradition, gossip, and genealogies. His information is not always accurate, for he often sees local history through rose-colored glasses, but he is by no means to be neglected on that account. Again, in larger towns, there are historical societies or clubs which have collected documents and relics often of the highest importance to the pageant author. Finally, there are the private diaries and correspondence of the older families. Tact and patience sometimes are necessary to get access to these. However, the author's enthusiasm should be sufficient to carry him triumphant over all difficulties. Generally it is sufficient for him to make clear the serious nature of his work in order to obtain anything that he may require. WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 49 It is assumed that, while the historical material is being collected, the author will visit and study all the localities where the events occurred. Sometimes it is not easy to identify an actual place, particularly a scene associated with Indian legends or the earliest settlers. Here also traditions may conflict. It may be that certain of the localities have never been definitely identified because the matter has not been considered of sufficient importance; nevertheless a little care in research will often establish a particular pond, hill, or woods as the actual scene of a popular tradition. Its rediscovery and identification will add not a little to the town's interest in the work of the pageant and are therefore well worth the expense of extra time. In any event, however, the author must see such of the old houses as remain; he must compare the present with the past as shown on old maps, and, in short, leave no stone unturned that may add to familiarity with the place in which he is to set his scene. Above all, let him ransack the old attics for papers, costumes, family heir- looms, and historical relics which have been forgotten, neg- lected or not considered worthy a place in the local museum. His materials collected, classified, and absorbed, the next step is to choose from the number of possible episodes those most suitable for the pageant. There are several factors which influence the selection of his scenes: i. What is the occasion or object of the pageant? 2. Wliat are the events most important in their influence, on the town's history, or appropriate for the chosen occasion? 3. Which events are the most picturesque and dramatic? These questions should be answered in order. 50 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY / i. It_is_necessary for every well constructed pageant to be founded upon a definite idea,^wEich is as much as i to say that, it. frag a piirpf>gA A pageant is not a work \ which exists for its own sake. The mere fact that a large v proportion of the community cooperates in its production reduces the personality of the author to a minimum. He does not aim to express his own views, but to voice the historical development of the town, to interpret the mean- ing of its history. Therefore it must first of all have a meaning to him quite apart from that of a chronological sequence of facts. His must be the larger vision that sees into the past and reads there the present and even something of the future. It may be that no one else sees what he has seen; all the more, then, it is his duty to make the vision evident through his pageant. The author should r-aiise his community to assume an ideal, if it have To come down to a more practical statement, the pa- geant structure rests upon a central idea or theme of which the principal episodes are illustrations and the interludes an allegorical expression of the subject. 1 Step by step the episodes and interludes build up the idea, until in the finale it becomes manifest to all and the pageant then rounds itself off to a natural close. Thus the Foreword to the 1 Professor Dickinson describes the structure of a pageant as consisting of a "salient plot" and a "contributory plot." The salient plot is composed of all the material of the episodes themselves; the contributory plot (a containing plot, as he also describes it) is comprised of all the actions which are necessary to explain and write the main plot into a coherent whole, such as prologue and epilogue, link passages, explanatory and narra- tive passages, and interludes. The Case of American Drama, Chap. V, pp. 172-8. WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 51 Plattsburgh Centennial Cekbration l proclaims that " the Pageant of the Champlain Valley is designed to give in a few chosen episodes some of the striking features of the history of the valley and to turn thought naturally from the past to the future, that the people may glimpse a vision of a great standing army with swords sheathed and guns at rest, following the Angel of Peace down the centuries." Likewise the Hertford Pageant, 2 a purely historical spectacle without allegorical interludes, is founded on "the glory of the days When our forefathers fought to be free, To be free. On the banks of the lush-meadowed Lea." 2. Enough has been said to make clear what is meant by founding the structure of the pageant upon an idea. It is also desirable to include all the episodes of impor- tance in the history of the town. Minor incidents are first eliminated, although not necessarily discarded entirely, for they may be worked in later on. But what the author needs to know at the outset is his irreducible minimum. Next, do the important events tentatively chosen harmon- ize with the idea on which the whole structure is to rest? Usually they do, if the writer's idea has come from sound insight into the community's history. Nevertheless it may be necessary to bridge gaps in historical time and subject- 1 September 6 to n, igi4, Plattsburgh, N. Y. Official program, p. 36. Book by Margaret Maclaren Eager. * Hertford, England, June 29 to July 4, 9i4- Book by Charles H. Ashdown. 52 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY matter with allegorical interludes. There then arises the practical question of the actual time available for the representation, since this factor necessarily puts a limit on the number of episodes and interludes possible. A fair length of time for the acting of a pageant is two hours and a half, without allowing for intermissions. Episodes ought not, as a general rule, to require more than twenty minutes, some considerably less, and the interludes, ten to fifteen minutes. With a rough basis for a time scheme in his mind, the author will again consult his historical material. How many episodes has he already determined are too important to be omitted? On how many inter- ludes does his plan depend? He can now form an approxi- mation of the time required for representation and so make further additions or excisions in his material, as the case may be. It is customary to group in a single division the episodes of each century. The reason is that each century has its characteristic tone and atmosphere, thus making a natural separation between the episode-groups. The interludes then are placed between the hundred-year units. 3. Pageant episodes fall into three general classes, the picturesque or pictorial, 1 the narrative, and the dramatic. Of these three the first presents the least, and the third the most, difficulty to the text-writer. A pictorial episode is one which concerns itself mainly with some ceremonial, say a reception of General Washington by the community, but has otherwise little of the narrative or dramatic ele- 1 Of course in one sense all episodes are "pictorial"; here is meant, however, the kind of episode which has no progressive story to tell. WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 53 merits. These episodes are usually in pantomime or with only a minimum of dialogue, since it is the ceremonial picture and not the story that is interesting. The writer of the text prepares the stage directions in a general way, particularly is he careful to give the facts and details concerning the actual scene as history records them, and the producer proceeds to work out the groupings required. 1 A list of characters is drawn up, even though none of them may have a speaking part. The pictorial episode gives a pleasant variety to the pageant, but like the interlude should seldom exceed ten minutes in repre- sentation. Further, the pictorial episode may be divided into two classes, the static and the kinetic. A static episode is in the nature of a historical tableau of some important event. In this type, it will usually be found that individuals are the focus of interest. The moment of greatest importance is a pause, as, to use again the example cited above of the reception to General Washington, the tableau formed at the instant of his first appearance. The kinetic episode, on the other hand, is one composed wholly of movement, such as a battle scene. The interest is in the ebb and flow of the swiftly moving figures, and not in the actions of a few individuals. The latter species of episode may often have a musical accompaniment which helps to ex- press the spirit of the scene. In either case, the writing of such episodes is largely a matter of the author's power to visualize his scene and then to set down an accurate description of it. The most painstaking contemporary 1 See Chap. VI, Grouping. 54 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY accounts will need much supplementing from an intelligent imagination before they can be rendered faithfully upon the stage. The pictorial episode must contain sufficient detail to make it clear, both as to meaning and as a picture of the times, but it must not be overloaded with irrelevant details which tend to obscure the point of the scene. There is sometimes a tendency to embroider the picture over- elaborately. The central focus must never be lost sight of. A narrative episode, in distinction from a dramatic, simply contains a sequence of events or a single event of significance to the history of the community but not necessarily of the stuff of which drama is made. Thus the arrival of the railroad, or the founding of a certain industry, might have been of such importance to the town as to deserve a place in the pageant, yet no ingenuity could make these events seem dramatic. Here again is another point of divergence between historical pageantry and the theatre. In pageantry anything may have interest that is closely related to the community; on the stage only dramatic things have a place. The narrative episode should also be written with the minimum of verbiage. What the author should aim for is to tell his story as simply and directly as possible, reserving the main incident in the episode for his climax. The dialogue should move straight toward the climax, and, once that is reached, should end as soon as possible. Dialogue should never be allowed to obscure the point of the story, nor fail to emphasize it when it is reached. On the other hand, it must never be forgotten that a narrative episode must have a point (or climax), otherwise WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 55 it has no reason for existing. The structure is of the simplest possible form that will tell the story without too much sacrifice of verisimilitude. On such a date, a cer- tain event happened. When it has been shown why it happened and how it happened, the task is ended. The dramatic episode is less easy to define in precise terms, for the reason that the word "dramatic" is itself the victim of innumerable critical theories. But an approach to a definition which will answer the purpose of historical pageantry may be arrived at by a process of description. An episode is dramatic when it is concerned with some important decision made by a community, or by those hi authority at the time, the result of which decision was a crisis or conflict that changed the destiny of the town. In historical pageantry, "dramatic" does not apply to the human will in action, as it does in the drama, but to the action of the collective or community will. The first point established is that in a dramatic episode the town is the protagonist or hero. Even if individuals act in the name of the town, the same is true, for the action concerns the destiny of all, not of those particular individuals alone. The next point is that the action or decision of the community must directly affect, or have consequences for, the future of the town, or of the nation in whose life the town is playing a part. Sup- pose, for example, it is found that, in the seventeenth century, a small village, whose history is being depicted in pageantry, resisted the tyranny of some unscrupulous governor, and, through riot and disorder, maintained its rights. This would be a dramatic episode for the reason 56 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY that it was, let us say, the first manifestation which that town had shown of the willingness to fight for the spirit of democracy. The actual occurrence may have been a petty riot which really was not regarded as highly impor- tant at the time. But upon looking back over the history of that town, if it is discovered that its liberties were never thereafter infringed, the action of these people is seen to have shaped the course of their descendants' future. Therefore, the dramatic episode may not neces- sarily be, from a popular point of view, the most impor- tant event in the life of the town. It might easily so happen that at the present day the people would be most of them ignorant of this event in the past. To dramatize the history of a town, then, is to choose those episodes which are particularly significant of the growth and evo- lution of the community, and further to show, in clear, straightforward fashion, how and why these events were significant. To show the how and why involves also showing the causes and motives underlying the action. In the case cited, the motive inspiring the resistance to the governor was the fierce spirit of freedom which the people possessed. Something of this spirit must therefore be shown to the audience; the fact of its existence must be "established," 1 as the technical saying goes. Part of the preliminary dialogue and action will be devoted to making this clear. The cause of the action should be some particular tyran- nous move on the part of the governor, which led to oppo- 1 To "establish" is to illustrate by one or more specific examples during the expository portion of a scene. WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 57 aition. This, too, must be made specific to be dramatic. It might happen that in reality the tyranny had lasted over a long period of time, and that the revolt was only the culmination of a series of minor grievances. But in a twenty-minute episode there is no opportunity to rehearse a long history. 1 Some specific act must be found, or, if need be, invented, which will serve as an illustration of the whole series of occurrences. If a specific cause is invented, it must, of course, be in harmony with the times; it must be, in short, a possible and probable thing for that par- ticular governor to have done. In this way the spirit of history will not be violated, even if it becomes necessary to imagine some of the letter. These two matters made clear, the motive and the cause, the author should now proceed directly to showing the decision to oppose the governor and the riotous consequences. Since the episode must move rapidly from this point on, there will be only the briefest opportunity to characterize the leaders. Nor can the mental processes of the governor be long dwelt on. The riot itself should be portrayed as a pictorial scene, and the final triumph of the people should be treated only to the point at which it becomes clear to the audience. The danger that many inexperienced writers incur is that, after their climax, they desire to moralize the spectacle, to drive home its meaning at considerable length, and so end with an anti-climax resulting in a total loss of interest on the part of the audience. To sum up: a dramatic episode is one in which an act 1 The "fore-shortening of history" for the stage is a recognized dramatic convention to which the audience will not object. 58 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY of the community's will is fraught with consequences for the future of the town. Individuals are important only as they are exponents of the community will, or have placed themselves in opposition to it. In putting such an episode on the stage, the author must make clear the motives and causes, and then proceed to show how the event happened. To do this he is at liberty to use a process of condensation which may, in specific details, be at variance with the literal facts, but his method must not on this account result in a falsification of the spirit of history. Finally, upon passing the climax of the action, he should bend all his efforts to bring the episode to a spirited and rapid close. Dialogue, in historical pageantry, as on the stage, has two purposes: to portray character and to advance the story. 1 Of course it must never be forgotten that, in serv- ing these two purposes, the things the characters do are as effective as the things they say. The dialogue, there- fore, is only a part not the whole means to the end. Especially in the open air is strict economy in dialogue advisable. Lines often fail to carry over the vast space or to the widely scattered audience. Again, amateurs vary greatly in the distinctness of their utterance, so that the author must always have in mind the desirability of 1 Cf. Chamfort: "Dialogue is properly the art of conducting the action by the speeches of the characters. Thus each person says exactly what he ought to say, so that he who speaks first quickens our interest by words which seem to the audience appropriate to his nature and spirit, while the other actors who reply or interrupt, do so according to their proper charac- ters. Finally, that dialogue is best which follows closely a natural order, which utters no useless words, each line, in short, forming another step toward the denouement." WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 59 getting rid of dialogue whenever possible. Whatever the characters can do, let them do it, rather than say it. It follows, also, that the lines should be short and to the point. Long and involved speeches are confusing and tiresome. In a maximum time of twenty minutes every word in the scene should bear directly upon the issue. There is no room for digressions and circumlocutions. The reading of lengthy historical documents, or of verba- tim records of assemblies, is to be avoided. The dry facts of history must be quickened; what is important is the vitality of the event, not its literal reproduction. Too often dialogue in pageantry is made heavy by well-meant quotations, which perhaps were originally spoken indoors, or with more than twenty minutes of time at the disposal of the speakers. It is a mistaken idea of historical ac- curacy which demands actual documents and proclama- tions in the dialogue, instead of vivid summaries. An excellent illustration may be found by comparing Shake- speare's historical plays with his sources in Holinshed or North's Plutarch. Shakespeare did not burden his poetry with quotations from his authorities, but used instead a magical distillation from them. One is privileged, at least, to follow his method, even if one may not hope for his results. In one respect an illusion of a historical period may be achieved by careful attention to the flavor of the language of each century. Anachronism in the usage and in the meaning of words, as well as the careless insertion of modern colloquialisms, will destroy, for sensitive ears, the whole effect of an episode as easily as musical dis- 60 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY cords will annoy a musician. Pedantic accuracy is not implied here, but simply a suggestion, say, of the ways of speech in the seventeenth or eighteenth centuries, together with a careful suppression of modern words and idioms which were not current then. It likewise goes without saying that even in modern episodes good English should be one of the aims of the dialogue. It is, of course, per- missible to use colloquialisms and even slang to express character, if the characters are types who normally ex- press themselves in this way, but beyond this the dialogue should be written with the same attention to its literary aspects as is given to the artistic production of the pageant as a whole. A pageant artistically perfect in all other respects, but with badly written dialogue, and tediously or clumsily constructed episodes, will not achieve any approximation to the ideals of this art. Characterization can be of only a fragmentary nature in the brief tune at an author's disposal. It is all the more necessary for him, therefore, to conceive his figures clearly in his own mind. When only a few strokes can be used to make a portrait, it is essential that the few be the right ones. If the character is vague, or ill conceived in the portrayer's mind, the strokes will be chosen at random, and they will fail to yield any accurate picture at all. The first thing to consider, of course, is what history has told about the character. Next, what is he called upon to do in the episode, and how is this an illustration of a certain side of this person's individuality? These give the fixed points from which his character can be con- structed for the purposes of the episode. There will be WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 61 opportunity to show only the side of the character which his actions in the episode indicate; therefore all other traits, however tempting as interesting digressions, had better be avoided. For example, if an important event turned upon the impulsiveness of a certain individual, of whom history records that he was also kind-hearted, an excellent friend, and a man fond of reading, the pageant author will fix upon the impulsiveness as the principal trait to show. That he was fond of reading may be eliminated, nor is it probable that his kind heart and his capacity for friendship can be conveniently shown without wandering too far from the point of the episode. Simpli- fication of character is a necessary limitation, but one which makes convincing characterization correspondingly difficult, because too much emphasis upon the trait chosen tends to dehumanize the character. The emphasis should be only sufficient to make clear to the audience the prin- cipal motive of the character's actions. If one trait is reiterated too often, or too much insisted upon, the plausibility of the depiction will suffer. Interludes present a problem analogous to that of the pictorial episode, in that they depend upon color and movement primarily, and not upon dialogue at all. An interlude, as has been said, may be a brief allegory stand- ing alone, or allegories may be written in a series linked together by a common idea, so that each is one of a sequence. The author is first concerned with finding his idea, and then with determining whether it is to be carried out by song or dance or by a combination of the two. If it is a choral interlude, the writing of the verses will 62 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY require time and thought. The music director should be consulted concerning the metre; indeed the author and the musician will have to work together to make both the words and music appropriately expressive of the idea. 1 It is, of course, easy to write doggerel verses that might pass well enough, if sung by a large chorus, but again this is not the way in which any of the details of pageantry should be carried out. Therefore, unless the author can write fair verse, or discover someone in the community who can come to his assistance in this matter, the choral interlude ought to be abandoned. Unless original music may be composed, a choral interlude must never be at- tempted. It is fatal to try to write new words for old music, however skilful the author. The dance interlude is the one likely to yield the best results. This is constructed by consultation with the music and dance directors. It is understood, of course, that the pageant master is also included in the counsels, but as he is often the author himself, it has not been thought necessary to refer in every paragraph to his share in the preparations. 2 In the dance interlude it is the author's task to furnish the idea, and it is the business of the music and dance directors to provide music and dances which will best express this idea. The point is that the interlude should not be an independent unit, merely intro- duced to vary the performance, or to please the audience through sound, color, and movement. The interlude should always be a help to make clear the meaning of the whole, to interpret poetically the historical scenes, to 1 See Chap. X, Music. * See Chap. IX, The Dance. WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 63 reveal to the audience the underlying truth of things, which facts alone are not able to do. Allegory and symbolism are the chief mediums by which underlying truth is shown forth. A word or two con- cerning them is therefore not out of place. Allegory is a figurative representation conveying a meaning other than, and in addition to, the literal. Its value depends, naturally, upon the beauty of the author's conception. It must be imaginative and at the same time clear to the average intelligence. If too obvious or trite, it misses its emotional effect, the feeling of peculiar appropriateness; and, if too involved, it will not be understood. An allegory must be consistent throughout, that is to say, it must not repre- sent one thing at the beginning and another at the end. Symbolism aims to represent, by concrete objects, ideas which can actually be apprehended only by the mind. The symbols used may be chosen arbitrarily, or their selec- tion may be governed by the association of ideas. Mediaeval artists arbitrarily symbolized the church as a ship which carries us safely over the sea of life. The symbol became a familiar one. This ship, with St. George standing in the bow, was the cover design for the program of the English Church Pageant, and, in one of the interludes, the ship appeared. The symbolism of peace by a dove is based upon the association of ideas. To understand symbolism the audience must, of course, know what ideas the objects symbolize. There are perhaps many to-day who are unfamiliar with the ship as a symbol of the church, whereas the symbol of the cross is known to all. The effectiveness of symbolism depends upon the audience's 64 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY understanding of the meanings attached by the author to his symbols. An allegorical interlude is a sustained grouping of sym- bols which all unite to express a single theme. Thus the growth of a city may be symbolized by a veiled figure which gradually reveals itself. The various steps in that growth may be treated as an allegory, Agriculture and Industry, for instance, each symbolized, bringing their gifts (symbols again) to the feet of the figure, and so on. Many of the old morality plays are illustrative of dramatic allegory, although they are somewhat too didactic and solemn for close imitation. The ideas and qualities repre- sented in the allegory are personified and their actions symbolized. Imagination of a peculiarly vivid and not of a literal kind is necessary to write successful allegory, even as simple a one as may be interpreted by a single group dance. In short, unless the pageant author is willing to spend a great deal of tune in working out his ideas in the form of allegories, he would be better advised to leave the whole subject alone. Allegory and symbolism are the foundations of social, civic, and institutional pageants.. Even if the pageant of this type receives historical treatment, the idea on which it is founded should be expressed through allegory. For example, an author wishes to write a Pageant of Education in which he desires to show the historical evolution of his subject. Education is an abstraction, not a concrete object. It is even more of an abstraction than the con- cept of a city as an individual. His first concern then is with the problem of representing this abstraction how WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 65 is it to be symbolized? Next in order comes the building of an allegory in which Education and its purposes are the central figures. The actual historical evolution is a simple thing to manage, compared with the difficulty of hitting upon a truly poetical interpretation of the main idea. It is easy enough to arrange episodes beginning with the making of clay tablets in Assyria, showing Cadmus giving letters to the Greeks, presenting students in the grove of Academe, and so on. But how is he to end, and what shall the pageant as a whole mean? The solution must be worked out by allegorical means. Thus Education may be shown creating Civilization, or be interpreted as the giver of Liberty to the People. But unless he sees clearly at the outset where the episodes are to carry his idea, his finished structure will not em- body any precise meaning. As another illustration, take an even less specific theme, such as fire. The author first seeks for a conception of the theme that will lend itself to dramatic treatment. Let us suppose that he finally settles on the rather obvious idea of fire as the forger of material progess. The pageant will then be centred on making clear this idea. It could begin with an episode of Prometheus' theft of fire from heaven itself an allegory or with a more literal scene in which savages are shown rubbing sticks together. Then could follow the discovery of the use of metals man again helped by fire to another step forward in his manner of living - until the whole pageant is brought down to the great blast furnace of modern times. The last scene of all would show Fire the central figure of modern life with all the 66 COMMUMITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY manifold activities of man dependent upon it for their existence. Enough has been said to show the advantages of allegory and something of its perils. Symbolism must always work hand in hand with it, or the result is only tedium. Community drama belongs more properly to the realm of dramatic technique, and space, therefore, forbids more than passing mention of its structural problems. A drama differs from a narrative in certain important particulars. In drama the hero, leading character, or protagonist call him what you will is confronted with one specific task which he sets out to accomplish, or else fails to ac- complish. In a narrative he may do several things, of relative degrees of importance, and the story may cover the entire term of his life. The dramatic hero, on the other hand, has one thing to do, or to strive to do, and everything else is subordinate to that one thing. The drama sets forth the nature of the task, why the hero must seek to accomplish it, how he did or did not do it, and briefly the consequences to him of his attempt. The structure of the play is therefore more clearly marked and precisely defined than that of the narrative. It may not wander into by-paths and digressions, as may the romantic story, nor must it take too long in the telling. Further- more, since the hero is limited to one principal object, he may not spread out his effort over too long a space of supposed time, or interest will flag. Again, the nature of the hero's task, while sufficiently complex, is, unlike the story, confined to a certain kind of effort. First and foremost, his actions must be the WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 67 working out of his own will. He may not be passive, as in the story, but must act or try to act, and that in a way fully conscious of what he wishes to accomplish. His actions may have as desired end the overcoming of an obstacle which circumstances or other human wills have placed in his path, but he may at no time avail himself of chance to find the solution. It may be chance that has brought him into the conflict, but once there, his will alone must determine the issue. The essence of the drama is what the hero does, right or wrong, in his en- deavors to overcome the obstacle and thus win the con- flict. The struggle through which he passes will alter his character, else has the play been written to no purpose. If he emerges the same man that he was in the beginning, the crisis of his life will have taught him nothing, and the audience will quite naturally ask themselves what all the pother was about. It will thus be seen that the plot or story of a play is constructed on a principle less fluid and yielding than that of the novel. The emphasis which the author puts upon the different elements of his drama will result in plays apparently built in several ways. It is useful to summarize as briefly as possible the methods which may be followed in plot emphasis, since it is more often in fundamentals that the student of drama goes astray. 1 1 It is useful to remember Richard Warner's words: "The public art of the Greeks, which reached its zenith in their Tragedy, was the expression of the deepest and the noblest principles of the people's consciousness." Vol. I, p. /i7, Art and Revolution, transl. by William Ashton Ellis. Drama properly is always this reflection of the best consciousness of one's genera- tion; and this must be remembered in the search for plot material. COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY 1. The story play. At first sight it might seem that in a story play the author simply threw his narrative into dialogue, cut it up into acts, and put it upon the stage. And it is true in this sense: what the author is chiefly concerned with here is in telling an interesting dramatic story. The important elements are the incidents and situations, and the characters are more or less subordinate to the sequence of thrilling occurrences. But to be dra- matic, such a play must make use of the kind of story which has already been described as that suitable for the stage. It must have one main thread and confine itself to that. The course of the story is guided by the hero, even though the external events that result are given more attention than the effect of these things upon the hero's character. A play dealing with an Indian legend, in which the hero's adventures were limited to a single exploit, would be an example of this type of drama. There is no searching analysis of character in conflict with moral law, no social question at issue simply and frankly a series of exciting adventures in which one character is prominent. This type of play is best suited to outdoors and to large stages. 1 2. The character play. Contrary to the first type enumerated, the dramatist's aim in this case is to analyze and portray character, particularly that of the hero. The main interest in the drama is in what passes in the hero's mind, and the alterations which occur there. 2 It is a much more difficult type to write, because it requires of the 1 See Chap. II, Types. 2 Such plays are Disraeli, Louis XI, and Richelieu. WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 69 author profound skill in character portrayal, nor is it easy to make the plot dramatic without allowing the external circumstances to overshadow the inner drama. It is hardly possible to use such a play in the open air. The subtleties of the characterization and the delicacy necessary to obtain the requisite effects alike demand not only an indoor stage but an intimate stage. Finally, the acting required in such a play is often beyond the compass of amateur work. 3. The theme play. This is the kind of play called by the French the piece-a-these. 1 In it the author sets out with a definite text or doctrine, around which he con- structs a story designed to illustrate his theme. The char- acters and their actions are more or less links in a logical chain of evidence, and hence have only a measured amount of freedom and spontaneity. The equation must evalu- ate itself as the author intended. The text must be proved and the characters exist only for this purpose. There is naturally some loss of humanity if human beings are treated as terms in a syllogism; and so the chief error of this type of drama is that it often falsifies life in trying to prove a theory of life. It may also turn out to be only a sermon in disguise not a fault in itself, but one so far as the confounding of these two forms of art ends in the creation neither of one nor of the other. On the other hand, if the sermonizing is kept to its proper place - namely to certain inferences which the audience are left free to make or not, as they see fit, if the characterization is true and faithful, and the plot probable, the result will 1 Cf., for example, the plays of Eugene Brieux. 70 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY be a modern play of value and interest. It will not, how- ever, be the work of a new or inexperienced dramatist, since it requires a knowledge not only of dramatic tech- nique but of life itself which is not at the command of the novice in either. The chief reason for dwelling upon it in this chapter is that it is a form of play construction that often attracts the serious-minded beginner, but in its realistic aspects, as a criticism of modern life, it belongs to the indoor theatre and to the skilled dramatist. None other may hope to master its technical difficulties. . The play of idea. The last general type to be enu- merated is the broadest of these four classifications, the one most difficult to pin down to a precise definition. But as in historical pageantry and in dramatic allegory the value of a central idea was pointed out, so is an idea necessary to a play. A dramatic story standing by itself may interest and entertain, yet it will leave nothing be- hind it, if the telling of the story was its only reason for existence. Equally does the play of character-emphasis, however skilfully character development may be shown, avail but little without ultimate artistic purpose. The thesis play alone may be said to be a play in which pur- pose is sometimes emphasized to excess. Since an idea play may be found under i and under 2, while 3 has been described as a possible over-emphasis of the type, how is it that it is listed in a separate classi- fication? In the first place, these classifications are not hard and fast divisions, shutting off one kind of drama from another; they are based rather upon plot-emphasis, upon the general tendency shown by the plot treatment. WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 71 Hence overlapping from one to the other is to be expected. Any exact separation would leave a host of exceptions in an unclassified limbo. Therefore neither story plays nor character-emphasized plays are excluded from having ideas hidden away in them, and the artistically written thesis play may even be a perfect example of the idea play. 1 Nevertheless there is need for making a distinction between the kind of idea-emphasis found, say, in Brieux' Three Daughters of M. Dupont and in Ibsen's The Doll's House. The former is an elaborate and logical illustration of three possible phases of the marriage question; the latter, a question of marriage worked out in terms of human emotions. One is mathematical, exact; the other, life- like. One contains a thesis, the other an idea. Perhaps no definition can adequately convey the distinction, which is possibly merely a matter of individual preference or conviction, but an idea for a play is the crystallized core for a commentary upon life, whereas there is also implied in the thesis play the demand for a remedy. The writer of the idea play sets naught down in malice; he records what he has seen, reinterpreted in the light of his imagination. The thesis playwright sets all down in malice, even when he most strives to be fair, since he asks us to agree with his theory, and therefore must prove himself in the right and life in the wrong. For this reason a separate classi- fication for the idea play is made. In all of this nothing has been said about comedy and tragedy, 2 melodrama and farce, and the other ever widen- 1 Cf., for example, Galsworthy's Strife, or (Iranville Barker's Waste. 1 For the beat account of Renaissance theory of comedy and tragedy, and its relation to Aristotle's poetics, see Chap. VI of J. E. Springarn's 72 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY ing categories of modern drama. To enter into the dif- ferences in technique between these would require a volume. Community drama will not be concerned at first with too elaborate an analysis of types. Whether an author writes comedy or tragedy, his plot emphasis will fall under one, or partly under one, of the four general classifications already referred to. The story play based upon an idea will suffice for most ventures to be under- taken by new-comers. The plot treatment may be serious, tragic, or comic, according to the nature of the story. This word of caution might be added, that true tragedy can be written, if it can be written at all to-day, only after the full maturing of an author's powers and experi- ences. It has not been considered advisable, therefore, in a book which aims merely to encourage experiment and to offer suggestions to the amateur spirit in drama, to enter into critical discussions concerning the nature of comedy or tragedy. The shelves of any library stand ready to furnish such argument in copious measure. One or two other critical questions of a general nature, however, should be referred to in closing this chapter. Throughout this book the necessity for unity in all aspects of the production is constantly mentioned. In writing the text, unity must be the keystone of the fabric. Dra- matic unity, whether attained in historical pageantry, comedy, tragedy, farce, or allegory, is of a twofold nature. There is the unity of idea which binds the whole together; A History of Literary Criticism in the Renaissance. This will give something of the background needed in formulating any modern theory of comedy and tragedy. The bibliography suggests a number of sources for detailed study of the dramatic theories. WRITING THE PAGEANT BOOK 73 and there is the unity of tone or mood which governs the treatment. Both are of supreme importance in anything pretending to be a work of art. Unity in historical pa- geantry is sought, as has been said, by Unking all the diverse historical episodes to a central idea. Unjty_of tone is secured by .carrying out the treatment of the pageant, particularly js the interludes, in a mood which is expres- sive of the central idea. This does not forbid variety; it simply means that pervading the whole there shall be a feeling of one prevailing mood and purpose. It may be relieved, contrasted, lightened, and otherwise varied at the author's will, provided his proportions are kept in due relation to the main theme. The same is true of any form of the drama. There is the unity of plot which requires that the story deal with one important event in the life of the hero, with all minor incidents subordinate to it; and there is the unity of treatment which impresses upon the audience the nature of story they are witnessing, whether somber, gay, fantastic, and so on. The treatment of the plot may again be classified under two broad general heads. One is the so-called realistic method, the other the romantic. It is of course impossible to do more in a brief paragraph than point out the super- ficial distinction, as commonly recognized, between these two. In the realistic method the details of the plot and dialogue are imitated from real life. In a historical episode, for example, what is aimed at is an illusion of the life of the times, sufficiently accurate in customs, dialogue, and happenings to seem a picture from the period represented. A play which deals with corresponding accuracy towards 74 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY the details of modern life is also said to be realistic. The romantic treatment, on the other hand, tinges the whole with imagination; the details are not faithful imitations of a life that was, or is, but of a life that might be in some realm where poetry rather than fact governs our spirit. Character and events are all idealized, lifted above the plane of reality. Thus, in historical pageantry the inter- ludes are treated in the romantic spirit, as must be the case with allegory, while realism, or what is conceived to be realism but is only an approximation after all, is left for the historical scenes. Thus the mood or tone of a dramatic work is likewise a twofold thing. It is grave or gay, fantastic or tinged with horror, as the nature of the story suggests, and it is also either realistic or romantic according as the details of the plot are chosen from facts or from the imagination. The object in referring to so many and diverse matters of critical theory is to remind the writer who first begins to use any form of the drama as a medium for his art that to be successful, in the true sense of this term, he must have an artistic purpose. This purpose is something more than the desire to prepare a dramatic spectacle for a given occasion. It should also include a consciousness of his aims and the methods he intends to employ in attaining them. Only thus can his work possess that unity which is essential to art. 1 , 1 It is expected that the student in reading this chapter will make full use of the bibliography on dramatic technique. CHAPTER IV PRODUCTION "Tous thedlres sont theatres." (Mile. Legrand, 1781. ) PRODUCTION, as the term is used in pageantry and community drama, is the art of putting a dramatic spectacle on the stage. The process of production is that of welding together into a single finished piece of work all the diverse and complex elements out of which the spectacle is to be formed. 1 Even the simplest play, given by amateurs in a village hall, demands for its production more than a text and a collection of people who have memorized the words. As for a historical pageant on a large scale, the labor and skill required to fuse so refractory a compound may not easily be imagined without actual experience. The principles on which production rests are not difficult to enumerate, but they may be successfully carried out only after many experiments, failures, and tolerable approximations to the ideal. Each production teaches new secrets, for, after it has been staged, the producer sees for the first time how he might have suc- ceeded. It is this very impossibility of reaching the goal of an ideal performance that makes production so fascinating an art. 1 Cf. Adolph Appia: "In every work of art harmony should rei^n be- tween the conception of the work and its realization." (Die Musik und die Inscenierung.) "InscenieninK" is the German equivalent of the word "production." 76 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY The three fundamental principles of any dramatic pro- duction are: sound, light, and movement. 1 These three headings include all the diverse elements which must be harmonized with each other in order truly to convey the idea and spirit of a given performance. Each of them possesses a number of subdivisions. Under sound are included the spoken words, song, and orchestral music. Under light is found color, and hence costuming, as well as the static elements, such as the setting and tableaux. Movement comprises gesture and acting, grouping, the dance, and the larger sweep of the performance considered as a whole. These three elements in turn are governed by the mood and tone of the text, both in individual scenes and throughout the production. The purpose of blending together these three funda- mentals of sound, light, and movement is not simply to produce something beautiful in itself, but to reveal the soul or true meaning of a play. 2 This can only be done if the author's idea is properly clothed, as Jacques Rouche 3 has expressed it. The production of a play ought neither to distort it nor to overweight it, but to show forth 1 In one sense the movement itself includes the distribution and harmony of lines and colors, which are also functions of light. Wagner's classifica- tion dance, tone and poetry (see The Art-Work of the Future) is more abstract. It has not been followed here, because the purpose of this chapter is practical rather than theoretical. But a study of Wagner's theories is essential to all interested in the modern drama. For an excellent summary of the evolution of modern " Inscenierung," see H. K. Moderwell's The Theatre of To-day, Chap. HI. 1 Since what is said about general principles applies with equal force to pageantry and to the drama, the more convenient word "play" is used as applying to all forms of spectacle. 3 Regissew (producer) at the Paris Opera. See his L'Art Theatrdle Moderns. PRODUCTION 77 clearly its individual characteristics and beauty. For example, to take the simplest cases of difference, it is obvious that a tragedy and a comedy, a serious historic pageant and a merry midsummer festival, should not receive the same treatment. 1 But the matter is even more far-reaching than this. Every dramatic work has a spirit of its own, which it is the producer's endeavor to show. 2 These differences, of course, occur in the work of the same author. Maeterlinck's The Blue Bird and his Peltias et Melisande require a totally different method of approach. No two historical pageants, even, may be produced in the same way, for the simple reason that no two com- munities possess the same individuality. To catch the spirit of the production and to put this spirit on the stage is of vastly more importance than to slave after literal accuracies of detail. Mr. W. B. Yeats once said 3 that a certain producer's idea of realism was to place potted primroses along the banks of a stage brook. So intangible a thing as the idea or spirit of a play can be shown only by creating in the minds of the audience a particular illusion. Every detail which in- trudes a literal reality into this illusion breaks the spell. 4 A potted primrose will seem, on the stage, a primrose, and nothing more. That is why decorative values take 1 Even the platform stage of the Elizabethans was hung with black for the representation of a tragedy. * Le regisseur "esl le lien unissanl fame de Cauieur et Fame de t 'artiste" (M. Ivanov.) 1 In a conversation with the writers of this chapter. 4 Cf. the excellent comment of Dr. Samuel Johnson on stage illusion, in his Preface to Shakespeare. Also Hichard Wagner: "The Artist addresses himself to the Feeling, and not to the Understanding." (A Communication to My Friends, p. 271.) 78 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY precedence over attempts at archaeological accuracy even in historic scenes. The art of creating illusion is the art of suggestion; more can be told concerning inner truths by means of suggestion than by accuracy however studied. Mr. PennelTs drawings of the Panama Canal are to be preferred to photographic snap-shots of this subject; in fact they are more enjoyable than the heat and glare of the isthmus itself. The producer indeed is confronted with the age-old problem of the artist how shall truth be represented? and back of that, what is truth? The various elements of a dramatic production which are included under the fundamentals of sound, light, and movement will be discussed in detail in later chapters. The object of this chapter is to describe some of the practical questions associated with differing types of stages, and to show how these questions assist, modify, or limit the art of production. To come at his problem more directly, the first task of the producer is to study his text. In pageantry it often happens that producer and author are one and the same person, a most happy combination of circumstances when this is true. His study should reveal to him the spirit in which the production is to be worked out, and all his plans should then be laid accordingly. Sound, light, and movement are conceived in terms harmonious with the central idea. What is the illusion to be created in the minds of the spectators and how can all the details be made to serve this illusion? 1 In any form of drama what 1 Cf. Gordon Craig: "Do not look first at Nature, look in the play of the poet." PRODUCTION 79 the audience see the actors do and hear them say are the matters of supreme importance. The illusion aimed at will vary according to the spirit of the drama. For ex- ample, the romantic atmosphere of, say, Don Csesar de Bazar strives to create a totally different illusion from that of a modern realistic play. 1 In each case all the details have as object the emphasizing of the performers. The figures must stand out and not be overshadowed by the setting, by sheer gorgeousness of raiment, or by any- thing else which would detract from the actors themselves. The attention of the audience ought to be absorbed by the words and action. The audience should feel that they are sharers in feeling and spirit with what they see. Even the least of the effects, therefore, is calculated to achieve this end. The audience constitute the one factor of which the producer must never lose sight. He is work- ing, not to please himself, but to please them. Last of all, the problems of production, as far as practical matters go, are two very different things outdoors and in. Hence it will be necessary to take them up separately. Proportion 2 is difficult of attainment outdoors no less than in. On a large open-air stage a few figures easily seem lost words do not carry across all the space at the producer's command and in daytime-performances there is no possibility of varying the lighting and thus of using artificial means to reduce the scale when desired. 1 Theatrical illusion does not mean that we mistake a stage for some- thing else, but that we become so absorbed in whut we see passing there that the world of reality ceases to intrude itself upon our senses. 1 Proportion is a question involving the composition of the individuals and groups, as well as a matter of scale. See Chap. VI, Grouping. 80 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY The plan of the stage, drawn to scale, is divided by imaginary lines transversely into three parts. The back portion includes the far perspective; the central section, a convenient middle-ground of area greater than the other two, and the foregound constitutes the intimate stage nearest the audience, where most of the dialogue should be spoken. Unlike the indoor stage set with scenery, this stage does not narrow toward the rear, with the result that the shape of the acting area does not correspond with that of the professional theatre. On such a tri-partite stage, which further may be of irregular shape, the pro- ducer makes his tentative plans for the acting of the successive scenes. Each of these three stages has its centre of focus. This must be borne in mind in order that correct proportion in disposing the scenes will be attained. 1 On the far stage detail is lost, and color is somewhat dimmed; mass and line alone remain. The middle-ground blurs some of the details; facial expression vanishes here, but color contrasts are still sharp. The fore-stage yields a bold relief in strong sunlight with nearly all the detail and clearness of an indoor theatre, with facial expression alone diminished, since the distance from the audience is still comparatively remote. The further back the figures stand upon the stage, the more effective are sheer numbers of performers. On the other hand, indi- viduals who have important r6les are kept well forward. 1 It must not be overlooked that the audience look down upon the stage in the average outdoor theatre, since the seats are arranged in the form of an amphitheatre. This fact, again, has an influence upon the dis- position of the scenes. PRODUCTION 81 These considerations determine the main lines on which the action must be handled. Obviously one of the first essentials is to plan for as much variety as possible in the use of these three divisions of the stage. Too many scenes must not succeed one another in the same place. Too many scenes alike in action and idea must not follow one another. But how if the text calls for this monotonous repetition? There is only one answer: the producer must demand that the text be rewritten. This, it will be assumed, may happen often when the pageant or play is the work of an amateur or an inexperienced playwright. In revising any play or pageant there is-^one thing the producer will do well to note. Ntf play written for an indoor stage can be trans- ferred artistically to the open air, be it simple comedy or pageant drama. The open air requires scale, feeling, and movement so different from the theatre that there are not many plays in the standard repertoire of English drama since Elizabethan times that can be successfully played in the open air. The fact that many well-known plays are so produced does not alter the value of this state- ment. Usually such attempts at production have only to be seen to have the truth of this borne in upon one's mind. If a dramatic work of art is to be produced in the open air, the producer demands a play written for an outdoor stage, and thus a work all ready for his hand. Further, since outdoor stages, except of the Greek type, 1 are never 1 Production as applied to modern Creek open-air stages has not been considered in this chapter, since the matter is one of professional rather than of amateur interest. 82 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY twice alike in area or in setting, the producer's task is usually still more simplified for him, because the play or pageant has been written to fit the particular stage on which it is to be shown. When this is the case both author and producer should aim to utilize to the full the pecu- liarities of the special ground chosen for the stage. There- fore, in considering the succession of scenes upon his triply divided stage, the nature of the background and the character of the middle-ground are examined to see how they can help to realize the action. If the back- ground is a far-off vista, then one of the entrances (in the technical sense) to the stage should be up this vista. 1 If it is a steep hill, or rocky cliff, action of a pictorial nature can pass there. 2 Again, rocks and shrubbery on the middle-ground will give the producer many hints for varying both action and grouping. The fore-stage needs to be quite clear of natural obstructions. This should be made as level as possible, or be allowed to slope gently toward the audience, for here the dancers and the actors who speak do most of their work. 3 A few examples of how action may be planned to suit the stage will be offered as suggestions. For instance, if the background is a distant view, some of the episodes may end with the performers gradually disappearing, the figures growing fainter and fainter in the far perspective. 1 Cf. the illustration, p. 82, of the Dell Theatre at the Hill School. 1 Ibid., p. 100, of the Dartmouth Open-air Theatre. 1 The custom sometimes followed of building a wooden platform on the foreground is not to be imitated. Not only does such a platform, even if marked with shrubbery, tend to destroy the illusion, but it brings to the outdoor stage the very disadvantages of the indoor stage which open-air drama should seek to avoid. PRODUCTION 83 Or they may approach from a long way off Indians gathering to attack the settlers, or the slow advance of an army, may be made most effective in this way. Of course, if the view is down a sudden slope into a valley, it may not be feasible to use the background as a part of the stage, because the figures would disappear from the sight of the audience once they pass the crest. This applies equally to approaching groups, who would come as suddenly into focus as if they stepped from the wings. 1 Again, if there is a stream or pond on the ground, canoes or barges arriving with landing parties, or vanishing around a bend, add much to the desired picture. 2 Distant sing- ing over water is also worth providing for, since the voices blend perfectly across such a sounding board. When the background is a steep hill, certain of the episodes should be written to take advantage of this. Once more, the Indians crawling down the slope, seeking cover behind each tree as they advance, create a dramatic effect. Recessional groups winding up the hill-side, sing- ing as they go, or hidden voices coming from the summit, give opportunities for unusual variety of effect. Finally, with thick woods at the rear, the whole back portion of the stage can be used for entrances and exits at any point desired. Figures can be made to appear and vanish with equal rapidity. All these various possibilities the director gets clearly in mind before he settles upon his general outline of the production. 1 Such a background may, however, be utilized for sudden or unexpected entrances and exits. 1 At the Pageant of Oxford splendid use was made of the river Isis, which flowed through the "stage." 84 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY In the middle portion and in the foreground of his stage the producer chooses the composition points for his main actions. Since he uses no painted scenery, these points are sought in the natural setting. Absolute sym- metry in the latter, such as equal divisions of the stage by clumps of trees, or a large tree in the exact centre, is to be avoided. 1 The principles of pictorial composition apply to outdoor pageant stages, though the producer must not forget that he is working not on a plane sur- face but in relief, and, furthermore, that his pictures are going to be simultaneously seen from several angles. In the theatre the lines of sight incline rapidly toward the rear, and the central pivot of view is a rather limited area. On the open-air stage these lines are opened out, spread further apart, and the so-called centre of the stage 2 may be shifted, now towards one side, now towards the other. The total space is of course much greater than in the theatre, and as the sides do not incline inwards, a different arrangement of the groups is necessary. No scene need be huddled together, nor should the performers be placed in straight lines converging toward a fixed spot. A studied irregularity which has two objects a skilfully composed picture and a perfect illusion of naturalness is the result at which the producer aims. Neither object can be attained by haphazard methods; each group must be planned with reference both to the scene to be enacted and the stage on which it is to appear. The producer's art is to blend his pictures as perfectly as 1 See Chap. VI, Grouping. 1 The "centre of the stage" is the point of focus of the action. PRODUCTION 85 possible with the natural setting of which they become a part. To do this he must discard the traditions of the indoor stage and substitute for the traditional theories of staging a minute study of his new resources. He must look at his pageant ground from every angle, making at the same time careful measurements of his distances. Only by combining the visualizing power of his own im- agination with a careful study of the practical problems can he obtain the final effects he desires. The number and positions of the entrances and exits, which include all the means of access to and egress from the stage, are determined strictly with reference to the requirements of the text. There should be at least three principal entrances, each one able to accommodate, with- out crowding, the maximum number of performers needed in any scene. In general, one of these entrances gives access to the stage from the back centre, and the others are found one on each side. These entrances ought to be masked, or at least arranged in some way so that actors using them can immediately appear or disappear when necessary. The masking should resemble the natural shrubbery of the outdoor stage; it should never consist of flat screens of branches set in lines like theatre wings, nor should canvas curtains be used under any plea or circumstance. 1 Subsidiary entrances should be arranged for as the text may further require. Usually subordinate entrances are smaller, being intended for individuals or the lesser groups. The entrances must be precisely de- 1 The reason is obvious. Artiflcial entrances destroy the harmony of the natural setting. 86 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY tennined at the outset, in order that the producer may plan and time the action of each scene from the moment his performers first come on until the last one has gone off. The next point the producer has to consider is that all his effects outdoors must be gained without the assist- ance of painted canvas scenery. He may shift his action from side to side, or back and forth, on his triply divided stage, but he may not bring on and set up in any scene canvas houses or backgrounds. This objection to the use of scenery which is not a permanent part of the stage is purely an artistic one. 1 Miniature canvas buildings, hastily put up before the audience, resemble only painted canvas. On the other hand, a skilful producer will have no difficulty in making the imagination of his audience supply missing details. If he tries to show these details literally, he presents, instead of a picture appealing to the imagination, a representation which is literal and common- place. The imagination refuses to accept canvas in strong sunlight as a house. But the imagination can readily understand that these figures seen advancing have just come from a house hidden behind the trees. The differ- ence is important if proper illusion is to be maintained. Many producers split on the rock of lack of faith in the imagination of their audiences. 1 The authors are well aware that in many pageants such scenery has been used, but this does not alter the fact that its use is an artistic mis- take. A possible exception might be made in favor of a solidly built and permanent castle gateway, which remains throughout the performance. It is not a case, here, of putting up or taking down a scene. Similar archi- tectural details, intended to form part of the setting, may be used. PRODUCTION 87 Outdoor producing, then, requires the postulation of a different set of conventions from those of the indoor stage. These open-air conventions are more rigid and un- changeable. The audience have before them a natural setting which does not vary. Certain things concerning this unchangeable scene must be taken for granted, but care is needed to make the audience understand the postulates. They will accept any conventions the pro- ducer chooses to make, provided he is always consistent in using his stage. For example, if the entrance on the audience's right is used in one scene as the way to the market-square of a town, it should be so used throughout the production. Characters who go off through that entrance always go to the market-square, and so on. Let us take another example from an imaginary open-air production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. It is an aid to the illusion if a definite portion of the stage is set aside for the evolutions of the fairies. That becomes fairy ground in the minds of the audience, and it is an easy matter for them to recognize the convention which helps to differentiate mortals from immortals in the wood- land scenes. Likewise, in historical pageantry the rear stage may represent the environs of the town, the middle- stage the fields and meadows adjoining, and the fore-stage may be accepted as a street in the town itself. 1 By using conventions of this nature no scenery of painted canvas is required to help the audience make-believe; on the contrary they will make-believe more thoroughly without it. 1 This is suggested merely as one wny in which the necessary conven- tions of the outdoor stage can be established in the mind of the audience. 88 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY This brings the producer to the problem of how to represent in the open-air scenes which the text tells him are supposed to occur indoors. In historical pageantry, for instance, the meetings of colonial assemblies cannot very well be imagined as taking place in the street. Of course, the best answer is that the text ought to confine itself to episodes in the open, a counsel of perfection not possible to realize when perhaps an important event in the town's history indispensable to the idea of the pageant did happen indoors. The representation of such a scene cannot be made in a thoroughly satisfactory manner. 1 The best the producer can do is to place the scene on his fore-stage, as close to the audience as possible, at the same time reducing the area of the stage used to approximately that of a room or assembly hall. If possi- ble, he may employ supernumeraries as spectators who can serve the purpose of an enclosing wall around three sides. Such properties as are indispensable chairs, tables, and the like may be brought on and carried off again at the conclusion of the scene. It is clear from what has been said in the former para- graph that outdoor drama leads logically back to a unity of place not to a place as circumscribed and confined as the theories of the commentators on the classic drama would have it, but rather to a unity of locality. If the setting is not added to by painted scenery (as it should not be), the changes of scene are fairly well 1 It follows that the number of these scenes must be kept at a minimum. Occasionally it will happen that some of them can be transferred to the market-square without doing too much violence to history. PRODUCTION 89 limited to three adjoining localities suggested by the triple division of the stage. The logical use of stage convention demands this, if the audience are not to be confused and their imaginations stretched too far. In historical pa- geantry, where the story of a single community is in ques- tion, the matter is a help rather than a hindrance. The accepting of definite areas of the stage to represent always the same localities saves explanatory exposition at the beginning of each scene. A few pageants, on the other hand, have begun the history of the town in another land, showing the setting forth of the colonists and their motives for coming. Such material is of the nature of a prologue, and must be frankly so treated i.e., as a preliminary to the pageant proper. Between the pro- logue in another country and the beginning of the action in this should come either a pause or an interlude, in order that the set of conventions may be frankly changed to remain permanent for the rest of the production. Writers of community drama for open-air production should bear in mind that one of the limitations surround- ing this form is the unity of place or locality. If they do this, the producer will have no vexations and inartistic problems of staging to solve. If open-air performances are given at night, the lighting of the stage is a difficult and costly matter. In order to reduce expense and experiment to the minimum, the advice of expert electricians must be called in. What the producer desires is a graded lighting effect upon his three divisions of the stage, with the fore-stage the most brilliantly illuminated of the three. The entrances must 90 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY also be clearly lighted, that approaching groups may be seen. No light should shine in the eyes of the audience. Furthermore, all light sources should be concealed. 1 On smaller stages, high-powered tungsten lamps are best supplemented by "spots" and "floods." The tungsten lamps are enclosed in tin cones, the color and quality of their light being varied by covering the open end of the cone with cheese-cloth dyed any desired color. A double thickness of orange cheese-cloth makes the light approxi- mate more nearly the effect of sunlight. The cones can be suspended vertically, or at any angle wished, and so the light can be made to fall where it is wanted. The cone concentrates the rays and prevents the bulb from being seen by the audience. Acetylene lamps may be used in the same way. On larger stages the chief dependence will have to be placed on arc "spot" and "flood" lights. The white color of these, with then* tinge of violet and the ink-black shadows they cast, is too harsh and crude by itself. An orange or light yellow gelatine over the lens will soften the light, and the tungsten lamps mounted in cones, as before, can be used on the stage to supplement the main sources. To secure an even lighting, the arcs are best arranged in a semicircle above and behind the seats. The loss of light due to its being thrown from such a distance is compensated for by the softer tone. More arcs are required than if the lighting is from the front line of the stage, but, on the other hand, it will not be necessary 1 This applies also to the wiring, which should be strung from tree to tree, and not from posts. PRODUCTION 91 to have posts on the stage. The ground of the fore-stage must be lighted clearly, particularly if there are dance interludes. A row of incandescent bulbs, resembling foot- lights, but burned much less brightly, will give a soft even illumination without throwing a glare in the actors' faces. Two things must be strictly avoided: the illumina- tion of no part of the stage should be a harsh blaze of light, nor should individual actors or dancers be pursued about the stage by a "spot" light. If sufficient light is allowed for all the radius of action to be clearly but not glaringly visible, no "spots" will be needed to show off individual performers. According to the strict principles of artistic production, an open-air performance at night ought to be one in which all the action occurs after dark. Just as the unity of locality for an outdoor stage is the true ideal, so there ought to be a unity in the matter of light. To have to imitate an effect of sunlight in the evening in the open is to sacrifice deliberately all the advantages of the natural setting. 1 Trees and foliage become a harsh strange green by yellow or white artificial light, while shadows are far too black and dense. Actual night scenes are best illumi- nated by a soft blend of blue, violet, and a little green light. Often practical reasons determine that performances involving daylight scenes shall be given at night. The industrial nature of the community may be such that large numbers of people would be unable to attend in 1 Likewise, it is undesirable to represent night scenes in daylight per- formances. 92 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY the afternoon. It would be absurd not to make the necessary compromise when these conditions obtain, whatever sacrifice of the producer's theories is involved. Most of the large English pageants have been given both in the afternoon and in the evening. The producer is unquestionably hampered in his plans, if he must pro- vide for both, as his color scheme is considerably inter- fered with by being keyed for two kinds of lighting. The modifications which these double performances introduce into the producer's plans offer individual problems to be solved in each case according to the practical conditions with which the producer is confronted. A pageant is no less a pageant because it may happen to be given indoors. During the winter months there are opportunities for smaller pageants and festivals both as community celebrations and in connection with special events at schools and colleges. There is no reason why a town should wait for spring or summer before enjoying the benefits and pleasures of pageantry. In fact, for communities of small population or with limited funds, the indoor pageant is often the only one feasible. More- over, the larger towns may use winter festivals to train their people for the greater open-air performances and to furnish the young people with interesting and profitable ways of occupying their time. The indoor pageant has not begun to reach its fullest development. There is a wide field here with which no technical definition of pageantry ought to interfere. The test is the value of the art to the community. Clearly, therefore, the earnest pageant worker is always on the alert to make use of his art whenever PRODUCTION 93 the opportunity offers. If he is condemned to hibernate for nine months of the year, his art will hibernate with him. The more indoor pageants and local dramas are given, the better it will be for outdoor pageantry, which is, after all, the truest but not the only expression of this community art. Such general problems as costuming and color-planning remain essentially the same whether the production is indoors or out, but the practical details of the indoor stage necessitate a different method of preparing the spectacle. The color scheme will be modified by the use of artificial light, and the application of light to the scenes is itself a difficult matter. The director cannot work with such large groups of actors nor handle such broad masses; he lacks the space. Instead, he is com- pelled to get his effects through a skilful use of smaller units. His figures and groups are much nearer the audi- ence a fact that alters his principles of staging; the spoken lines have now a greater importance, since they are more easily heard. It follows also that once the performance is surrounded by three walls there is a greater temptation to imitate the professional theatre, to adopt conventional or commonplace solutions rather than to think out original ways of doing things. Once more, the producer should remember that the actors and other contributors to the work are amateurs. 1 The aim there- fore is the same as in outdoor pageantry to make the 1 While his actors are amateurs, his production should in no way resemble the usual "amateur theatricals," which are too often a clumsy parody of the professional drama. 94 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY performance expressive of the community. The accident of indoor representation should not lead him to strive after the methods of the theatre. Since the first principle of indoor pageant production is to dissociate the staging from any attempt at imitation of the conventional theatre, the elaborate paraphernalia of painted canvas scenery is discarded or, rather, does not enter into the designer's thoughts. The problem is one of design. The producer, however, is not working, like the decorative artist, with a fixed pattern, but with a restricted three-dimension space where figures and colors are ever shifting. Compared to the outdoor production, he is now working almost in miniature, without any depth of perspective, with artificial illuminant, and a conventionalized background. To secure the necessary illusion, he must employ a diiferent set of details in staging his spectacle. The indoor setting also seeks to establish a close re- lationship between spectators and performers. The ideal is to make the audience feel themselves to be part of the production. Their attention therefore must be focussed on the figures of the actors, and must not be dissipated by overloading the scenes with a mass of unnecessary details. Hence the background is simplified and reduced to an arbitrary convention. Neutral colored draperies with only the hint of an architectural detail, when the action requires the latter, are sufficient by way of scenery. Painted scenery is costly; it is reminiscent of the pro- fessional theatre, and, to be acceptable, must be the work of an artist of skill and experience. It is not, as a PRODUCTION 95 matter of fact, required at all for a decorative background, and artistic lighting can be made to serve the audience's imagination equally well. As, however, for some reason simple scenery may be desired, a method of designing it will be later explained. 1 Against a decorative background of neutral tone the figures of the performers are thrown into strong relief. The audience become absorbed in their actions and are stirred by the harmony of the groups. There are no false notes to distract their minds. The artistic value of the performance rests where it belongs, in the hands of the actors, and they, in turn, share the effect directly with the spectators. There is no scattering of attention among adventitious details, which hinder rather than help to realize the desired expression. Indoor producing, in other words, aims not to create a magnified painted picture, but a decorative work of art. The latter idea is the essence of the producer's aims, the theory which governs all his work. It is the fore- ground, not the background, which is important. All his efforts are to make the characters stand out. Further- more, he will never lose sight of the fact that the greatest effects can be gained with the least elaborate means. It is skill in selection, in color combination, in movement and grouping, that counts, not costly scenery and expensive fabrics. Line, mass, form, color, these are his materials, and his models are not theatrical scenes, but Greek vases, frescoes, tapestries, Persian miniatures, or Japanese prints. From a study of these he will derive his stock of ideas. 1 See Chap. VIII on Costumes, and Setting. 96 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY Taine has said that a scene is a relief which moves. The Greeks alone based their whole theatrical art on this idea. Other nations have lost themselves in a maze of false realism in a vain struggle to imitate the splendors of the Garden of Eden upon a wooden platform. The Greek theatre embodied a harmonious fusion of sound, color, and movement. It rested upon a unified principle because it always retained, in its best period, its special character as a religious ceremonial and hence was guided by a single aim. It is clear that a modern theory of community dramatic art is akin to this ideal, if we re- member that it too aims to inspire its audience to show them not the world as it is, but something of the poetic meaning which life should have for ah* of us. The producer should utilize his stage in such a way that the figures will be in proportion to their sur- roundings. The background should always be designed in proportion to the actors in the foreground. This is the opposite of the conventional theatrical custom, where often on a small stage are shown buildings or mountain ranges. But actors move about, and every time they advance or retreat the proportions between them and the background are altered. In the theatre we have become accustomed to seeing the hero's shadow, as he moves up- stage, reflected on a distant mountain peak. Obviously a decorative method of staging abolishes such falsities of proportion and perspective. The actor is dwarfed or magnified according to the proportions of his surroundings. Each scene, therefore, must have its correct scale worked out in advance, so that the director can attain the desired PRODUCTION 97 effect. Small groups must not be lost against the back- ground, nor large groups appear to be huddled together. In general, the smaller the group, the nearer the audience the scene should be played. Harmony between the scale of the background and that of the foreground must constantly be maintained. Again, the scale and proportion of each scene are closely related to the magnitude of the action depicted. Im- portant events should be treated on a scale appropriate to their magnitude. 1 The culminating crisis in a town's history, for example, might have resulted from the private conference of two or three men. For the purpose of emphasizing the importance of this upon the stage, the producer would transpose his historical facts by represent- ing not the conference but the arrival of the news in the town, and so use a full stage and large groups. In prac- tically every historical scene, the relative importance of an episode is marked by the proportion of the treatment. The same is true of drama. Thus tragedy has a loftiness of scale from the proportions of the scenery to the suggested vastness and mystery of all the details of the setting a scale which would be inappropriate to, and out of keeping with, comedy. The imagination of the audience can be stirred only by unfailing attention to the art of suggestion by unremitting effort to create the de- sired illusion. One of the most effective ways of appeal- ing artistically to the emotions of the spectators is by a 1 It is not possible to give any rules which would correctly determine proportion in terms of stage dimensions in each case. The matter is one of feeling; the producer must know when he is right, when his scene possesses the correct feeling, but he will never be able to explain how this is done. 98 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY careful consideration of the scale of treatment demanded by each scene. The harmony of design is an integral factor in the question of proportion and scale. By the harmony of design is meant not only the harmony of colors and group- ings, but that vaguer thing, the expression of the pro- ducer's personality through his plan. 1 It is also necessary to carry this definition a step further to include harmony of method. For example, the decorative treatment of every scene and interlude must be the working out of a single plan. It will not do to have one scene staged in one manner, another in another, in the same production. Wherever the director borrows ideas for his designs, these ideas must be unified and made part of his personality in the process of passing through his brain. Otherwise his production will be a patch-work, some of it good, some bad, and the whole indifferent or worse. His individu- ality seizes upon the central idea of the drama, and his imagination illumines it as he seeks to give it expression. But under it all is the clearly conceived idea governing and directing the treatment of each scene. Thus every production which a director is responsible for should be different, yet characteristic of his own art and of the play itself. No historic pageant scene or successful inter- lude can be repeated in another production, because it would of necessity be out of harmony with the second design, even though the material were similar. It also follows that no artist will imitate the work of another 1 Cf. Moderwell: "The design is the abstract vision of the representative stage picture." (The Theatre of To-Day, p. 88.) PRODUCTION 99 man. To do so is to confess himself a failure. He may use the ideas of others as a groundwork for his own de- velopment, but unless during the process they become imbued with his own personality, they will be useless to him. In short, each producer must strive for what the French call a "stylisation" characteristic of his own work. Once he attains this power of "stylisation," 1 not only will harmony of design result, but each of his pro- ductions will be recognizable as an original conception which only that particular producer would hit upon. " Stylisation " is a word commonly used on the Continent to describe a method of producing which aims to bring out the individual characteristics of a play. No two plays are alike, any more than any two people are, there- fore no two dramas should receive the same treatment at the producer's hands. Every play, like every other work of art, has a "style" of its own. That is to say, a drama is composed of elements, borrowed either from reality or from the region of fancy, but the elements are united according to a rhythm and harmony predetermined by the author. The whole is an expression of a certain way of seeing life, a way which is peculiar to that author. The stylisation of the production has for object the show- ing forth of the author's meaning as clearly as possible, not the reducing of the production to a single standard of theatrical convention, as is so often done in the com- mercial theatre. 2 1 See the interesting summary of the principles of stylisation in Moderwell, The Theatre of To- Day, Chap. VII. 1 The essential in dramatic stylisation is to "endeavor to grasp the vhole, to discover its inner meaning, to reveal its unity and purpose, to 100 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY The stylistic production of a play, as distinct from the production of an indoor pageant or festival, involves the use of scenery. This scenery is, however, designed on principles which diifer from the accepted traditions of the theatre. In the paragraphs that follow, therefore, the use of scenery is implied. As for the practical matter of making this type of scenery for amateur performances, suggestions to this end have been included in the chapter on Costume and Setting. There is a frequent misconception that the stylistic method of production is a fantastic treatment applicable only to vast spectacles or to poetic and imaginative drama. Nothing could be further from the truth. Stylistic pro- ductions give large returns in sheer beauty of grouping and coloring when there is opportunity to work on a great scale or with poetic material, but if there is any truth in the theory that the work of a recognized dramatist has an individuality of its own (and this is hardly to be denied), then that individuality should be emphasized, not obscured, by the production. As a consequence, stylisation is equally applicable to the most realistic types of drama. Suppose, for example, that there is question of producing a play by Ibsen let us say Hedda Gabler. The play is realistic and what does the average pro- ducer do with it? He surrounds Hedda with a great quantity of bourgeois furniture and embues the actors with a certain restlessness, so that they are always eating select the essential 'and repeat it constantly with fitting variations, to suggest rather than to reveal, to work, above all, with the imagination and the poetic sense." (Moderwell, The Theatre of To-Day, p. 122.) OUTDOOR THEATRE. DARTMOUTH SHADOWS, (inoi i>s IN MOVKMKNT (.S'y/r/Vj Di-riilfn Dartinoiilh ) PRODUCTION 101 breakfast, taking tea, crossing the stage to pick up maga- zines, opening doors, and doing a host of other things which are supposed to be "natural." Whereas the "real" thing hi the play is the highly complex and dominating figure of Hedda herself. Everything should be subordi- nated to the task of making the audience understand her. How to bring out the reality of Hedda is the problem not how to construct a Norwegian interior composed of microscopic details imported from Bergen. There should be no aimless eating or wandering about the stage, no emphasis upon elements not in the play, or added by the producer hi a misguided desire to make it "natural." The setting and the other characters are only an accom- paniment to the symphony, not independent instruments each claiming attention on its own account. In other words, the attention of the audience must not be dis- tracted, but focussed on the matter in hand. Stylisation in the realistic drama is the recognition of the author's idea and its correct interpretation. There can be no play- ing for traditional or conventional stage effects, no desire to have a set of scenery secure a round of applause all by itself, as has been done, no making of so-called "effec- tive points" by emphasizing disproportionately certain lines of dialogue. These things are only irrelevant in- trusions or interruptions of the text. Stylisation applied to realism involves a so-called decorative treatment, it is true, a fact which has led a few to suppose that Stylisation always involves a fantastic pictorial production. This is because they have under- stood the word "decorative" incorrectly. Decorative, 102 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY as referring to the art of production, means primarily appropriateness of scenery, costuming, and acting to the type of play in hand. Further, it means that the approach to the producer's conception rests upon artistic ideas bor- rowed from the painter rather than from theatre tradition. Hence the design of a modern room in a bourgeois house- hold, for example, involves exactly the same principles as a design for Aladdin's palace. One aims to suggest the atmosphere and the surroundings of a middle-class family, the other the gorgeousness of Eastern fairy-land. What the stylistic producer avoids is picking any commonplace room at random for his realistic scene, and then cram- ming it full of all the middle-class furniture, bric-a-brac, and knick-knacks that he can find, under the impression that these details give atmosphere. What is wanted are not three walls of painted canvas with a mass of real furniture bringing out in glaring contrast and false per- spective the difference between the real and the make- believe, but a make-believe so well and harmoniously designed in all its parts that the fact of its artificiality never intrudes itself upon the minds of the audience. It remains throughout merely an appropriate and subordi- nate background to the important part of the play, the personality of the actors. It may well be asked how the design of such a room differs from that of the rooms painted by the average theatrical scene builder. In the first place, the conven- tional room upon the stage, apart from the overabundance of detail in it, a thing which has already been referred to, is too high, and narrows too sharply at the back. Its PRODUCTION 103 perspective is false and absurd. But granting that the best theatres have reformed this fault indifferently well, the general error of making the room a colored photo- graph rather than a pictorial composition remains. The perspective is still falsified by painting mouldings, cor- nices, and often even bookcases on the flat surface of the scene. Shadows are painted with them and the result is an appearance of relief with fixed shadows frequently at variance with the lighting of the stage. As the lights are changed, these shadows nevertheless remain constant. This destroys the unity of the picture. The chief rule, therefore, upon which the stylistic producer insists is that all relief work, such as mouldings and cornices, must be in actual, not painted, relief. This will insure shadows which are the result of the lighting, not independent of it. Since light and shade and their combination in proper proportions are of the essence of pictorial art, the im- portance of not falsify ing the shadows is obvious. Again, the light itself must appear to come from its supposed source in the lighting fixtures in the room, not from all directions, downwards, upwards, and sideways, as often happens now. Last of all, the proportion and scale of the room itself should correspond to the kind of room shown and to the size of the actors. The greatest difficulty which the stylistic producer encounters is with outdoor scenes in a realistic play. Pictorial or poetical drama allows a formalized decorative treatment, but how represent a real forest or a vicarage garden so it shall not resemble a mass of waving canvas to which millinery trimmings of artificial foliage and 104 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY flowers have been added? Clearly the only thing to be done is to simplify the setting as much as possible. A stage-set, at best, is not going to give an accurate impres- sion of the open air, and the harder one tries to achieve this impossible result, by adding "practicable" trees, the less convincing the effect. In Germany there are several stages domed at the rear which produce a remarkable illusion of distance and accuracy of atmospheric perspec- tive. The amateur stage has no such expensive resource available. Much can be done with a panorama drop, or cyclorama, a canvas horizon set around the back of the stage on a curve. This, with a proper handling of the lighting and of the foreground, will give almost as good results as a domed stage, at a mere fraction of the cost. 1 The rear of the stage should be built up to a height of about two feet either to suggest a terrace or a hill-top. If a space between the panorama sky and the built-up portion is left, an appearance of a perspective of a great depth is given, provided the scene is skilfully lighted. Trees may be painted or set up in silhouette against the background. All the apparent far distant points on the stage are removed from the zone of action by making a horizon line in this way, and the absurdity of having actors within two feet of a mountain range is avoided. Foreground details should be few and accurately proportioned to the figures of the actors. Once across the horizon line, anything seen in relief against the sky may 1 Panorama drops are, however, relatively expensive, particularly to install, compared with a flat drop. Usually they are quite beyond the resources of the amateur stage. PRODUCTION 105 be reduced to the proper scale of distance. By giving the sky an independent lighting, part of it from below, no shadows will be thrown against it. Thus, the illusion of distance will not be destroyed. Such a setting works well for night and twilight scenes, but is less effective in a supposed daylight. Just as the outdoor stage can repre- sent an indoor scene only by adopting a frank convention, so the converse is true of the indoor stage. The outdoor scenes must be a convention, with, however, this proviso, that the convention need not be an inartistic one. These notes, brief as they are, have been inserted for the benefit of those amateurs who have to deal with the question of giving an indoor play. There is much that might be said on this subject and there are naturally many conflicting theories which the writers of this book have not referred to, feeling that it is wiser to leave them to be studied in the sources suggested by the bibliography. The suggestions here laid down represent, at least, a method of approach which gives good results when experi- ence and judgment have supplemented the ideas offered. As has been repeatedly said, when dealing with pageantry indoors, the problem of realistic scenery does not arise. It is obvious from all this that the producer must not prepare individual historical episodes as separate detached studies of realism. If each of these is put on with minute analysis, but independently one of the other, the spec- tator will see only a series of fragments, perhaps excellently done, but having no unity of meaning. Tolstoi has warned all artists that many things cannot be done; it is better to leave something to the spectator's imagination in order 106 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY that he may complete the illusion for himself. Further- more, to do too much is to scatter the fragments of the mosaic. The producer who is too much interested in his fragments loses sight of the complete picture which it is the purpose of the fragments to form. Whether he is working on an indoor or an outdoor production, a feeling for the essential unity of the conception should form the basis of all his work. There are two general types of indoor stage, a relatively small platform, and, in the case of large armories or halls, a double stage consisting of a platform with a semicir- cular space in front. The worst possible stage to use for pageantry or community drama is that of a professional theatre. A director would do well to choose a bare hall in preference to the best equipped theatre. It can be more easily adapted to the simplification of production required and carries no theatrical associations to influence the minds of actors and audience. The hall has no fixed and unalterable lighting system in connection with its stage; thus the director is free to devise his own method. Finally, a theatre is difficult to manage without using some of its conventional scenery, while the shape of the stage itself is fixed. On the other hand, the more bare the building, the greater the latitude allowed the director to create the type of stage he desires. In this way only can he be certain of an appropriate and artistic pro- duction, nor need he be deterred by the fear of increased cost. The rent of a theatre is high, a cost which is not equalled by the expense of equipping a hall. Of the two, the latter is the more economical. PRODUCTION 107 As in outdoor work, the size of the stage determines the relative numbers composing the groups and guides the director in planning their disposition. Too many per- formers cannot be used to advantage on a small stage, as the nearness of the audience makes any confusion or crowding immediately apparent. The space at the en- trances and exits is restricted, and this must be taken into account to ensure the smooth handling of groups. Much can be done to give the impression of a vast throng by clever grouping and the use of shouts and tramping feet off stage. For a limited number of performers, width rather than depth of stage is important. In constructing a small stage, all the width possible should be utilized and then plans should be made for a depth of from one third to a maximum of one half the breadth. The plat- form should be raised about three feet from the floor level. If there is room to make the stage half as wide as it is broad, raise one sixth of the area at the rear another eighteen inches or two feet and connect this portion with the main stage by steps. The two levels are useful in securing artistic grouping. In general, three entrances are sufficient: one at each side directly opposite, and one at the back. The main stage should also be connected with the aisles of the auditorium by steps, preferably on both sides, so that processional groups may pass through the audience and up onto the platform. A large hall or armory permits of greater numbers of performers and a more elaborate stage. If there is plenty of room, a stage should be constructed a third as broad as it is long, with the rear portion raised as before. In 108 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY the centre, behind the entrance, if the depth allows, there should be added a back stage equal in width to a quarter the breadth of the fore-stage. This will give three divi- sions to the platform itself. The small back stage is not essential but is useful. The main platform is about four feet from the floor, not higher. In front of the platform a fore-stage should be marked out, either in the shape of a circle with a portion cut off, or as a deep ellipse. The principal thing is to take all the space possible without cutting off necessary seats for the audience. The pro- portions are best seen from the figures for an imaginary stage of this type. The main platform is sixty feet wide and thirty feet in depth, of which a portion eight to ten feet wide is raised above the main level. The circular fore-stage would then be seventy feet wide by fifty feet deep, overlapping the ends of the platform stage on each side. No seats should be placed nearer the fore-stage than a distance of fifteen feet all around. The use of a circular fore-stage requires that the audi- ence be seated on raised seats. These may be obtained by hiring and setting up circus seats or athletic "bleachers," as these are available in portable sections which can be made to fit any required space. They usually have to be put into position without driving nails in the floor. Therefore it is necessary to entrust the work of erecting the seats to competent hands experienced in such matters. The local carpenter may find it a task beyond his powers. When seats are erected, an aisle communicating direct with the fore-stage must be left for the passage of pro- cessional groups approaching through the audience. PRODUCTION 109 The platform stage should be approached on either side by ramps at least ten feet in width. Wide approaches are necessary for the smooth and orderly handling of large groups. These ramps require masking so that the audi- ence will not see the performers before they reach the stage. The masking forms part of the general scheme of draperies. On the platform stage two side pieces, fifteen feet in height if the hall is a large armory, are set up to serve as a kind of proscenium. The drapery screens hiding the ramps adjoin the two side pieces. If the stage is very small a complete proscenium frame may be built, but no curtain is needed in either case. The proscenium frame is covered with drapery darker in tone than the draperies of the background. This drapery should not be stretched tight but tacked in folds. Along the edges of the frame the drapery is brought over from the back, instead of simply being tacked flush with the edge. The background of the platform stage is limited to neutral tinted hangings, preferably soft grays, or gray-browns, or grayish-greens. These hangings are attached to a curved wooden or gas-pipe support of from fifteen to eighteen feet above the platform level. By arranging the background draperies in a curve, a better perspective and more artistic grouping is possible. However, if the struc- ture of the building makes this a costly or difficult matter, they can hang parallel to the rear of the platform. The folds of the draperies, as in the case of the proscenium, begin on the back and the hangings are brought over the carrying rod. The folds fall onto the floor not clear of it or just touching it. When cheese-cloth or other thin 110 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY material is used for the hangings it must be backed with can- vas, or light will show through. Even with heavy draperies, no lights should be placed directly behind the scenes except a few dim ones below the level of the platform stage. The platform stage is connected with the circular fore-stage by steps whose width is about half that of the stage itself, leaving a quarter of the width as clear space on each side. The aisle through the audience is opposite the centre of the steps. The music must be provided for at one side, prefer- ably that of the audience's left. If it is placed anywhere directly in front, as in a theatre, it will interfere with a view of the performance. Finally, as much room as possible should be left behind the scenes and about the entrances and exits, this being even more important indoors than out. Intimate scenes, in which the dialogue is important, and certain of the dance interludes, are played on the circular fore-stage, while other movements of masses and groups are kept to the platform stage. Exterior scenes are indicated by the use of a few shrubs provided the latter are not palms or rubber plants. If shrubs are used at all they should be chosen from those that might con- ceivably grow outdoors in that locality. But it is not necessary to bank the stage with masses of plants. A few are quite sufficient to suggest to the imagination of the audience the outdoor character of the scene. In like manner interiors are hinted at by bringing on the minimum furniture required by the action of the scene. All these properties or accessories must be brought on and carried off again at the conclusion of the episode in which they are used. For that reason, nothing should be put on the PRODUCTION 111 stage that is not absolutely demanded by the text. The fewer accessories of all kinds the better. In fact some producers are opposed to the use of any properties other than those which people naturally carry about with them. For the lighting of small stages the incandescent tung- sten lamp is the best medium. Theatres possess several circuits of such lamps, some fixed, others portable, and all connected to "dimmers," which allow of the lights being dimmed or brightened at will. In addition, theatres are furnished with "spot" and "flood" lights of brilliant intensity. The small hall or platform stage requires no such elaborate equipment. Footlights, although they are much in disfavor at present because of the unnatural light they throw in the actors' faces, are after all a useful way of lighting a stage. If dimmers are out of the question, and they usually are, since they are expensive and require a special wiring installation, the footlights can easily be arranged on two circuits and may then be dimmed by cutting out one of the circuits. Also, low candle-power lamps may be used in one circuit, and normal candle-power lamps in the other. For the rear and sides of the stage I a few portable stands of incandescent lamps may be attached to wall plugs and be moved about at will. As in outdoor lighting, the lamps on standards can be mounted in tin cones, with the opening covered with some thin material to soften and diffuse the light. One spot light for special effects will be all that is required. Colored bulbs in blues, reds, and ambers are readily obtainable. The footlights should contain a liberal mixture of amber bulbs. The position and number of the lights depend 112 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY upon the size of the stage and the absorbent power of the background. Actual experiment, or lighting rehearsals, are necessary to determine what is required. In large armories, besides the clusters of bulbs on standards, a number of flood lights are needed. If there is a circular fore-stage, there will be no footlights, and all the light will come from above and from the sides. If there is a convenient gallery around the hall, the flood lights are placed there, and in any event should be at some distance from the stage to soften their intensity. In order to determine the most economical method and the most practicable application of the wiring already in place, an expert electrician should be called in. A new lighting installation is expensive and usually impractical. Ingenuity and experiment wifl usually enable the producer to adapt the resources at hand. The lighting problem should not be left to the last minute, because h'ght is an integral part of the production. On its skilful use depend the color effects, the disposition of the shadows and masses, and the blending together of all the other elements. Finally, it is in the art of production as a whole in the total effect of the given spectacle that the supreme test of values must be sought. These values are dependent primarily upon the vision, the invention, and the skill of the producer, yet in community drama, even more upon the spirit of cooperation resulting in a performance whose details are the work of no single individual but of all, down to the least, who have shared in the work. It is the curious paradox of production that it begins as individualist art, only to achieve its final expression in cooperation. CHAPTER V ACTING "Evitez cependant une chaleur factice, Qui seduit quelquefois el tit par artifice, Tons ces trepignements et de pieds el de mains, Convulsions de Tor/, grimaces de pantins. Dans ces tains mouvements qu'on prend pour de la flamme, N'allez point sur la scene eparpiller votre ame." PAGEANTRY does not demand a number of people trained and experienced in acting. If it did, or if the producer were to insist upon the finish of the professional stage, pageantry would be too difficult an un- dertaking for the average community. The only qualifica- tion for a pageant actor is a desire to take part in the performance. The whole theory of pageant acting rests upon the assumption that the performers are amateurs. Hence the producer's directions to his players should be few and simple, the object being to have them speak their lines audibly and not to step out of the picture once the words are delivered. His main task is marshalling and massing his groups into a series of beautiful pictures; his individuals need only be related to these groups in an intelligent way to complete the whole. The technical problem which the producer has to solve is to keep all his figures in the picture. It is the pictorial effect of each scene, rather than the acting of individuals, 114 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY that is important. Individuals become prominent when the action of a particular episode so requires, but no single figure dominates the stage for more than a few minutes. There are no "star" parts in pageantry in the sense in which the theatre uses this term. The very size of the pageant stage emphasizes the necessity for group-acting. Perhaps a comparison of the requirements of pageant acting with the acting of the Elizabethan stage will illus- trate the question more clearly. With a comparatively small, bare platform, dramatic representation could not be an art of pictorial illusion. On a stage surrounded by spectators and with the players embarrassingly close to the audience, acting was necessarily rhetorical and vigor- ous. The actor had to dominate the scene by the power of his personality, while the pictorial illusion was created in the imaginations of the spectators by the descriptive force of the lines. The actor had to rely upon his abil- ity to interpret character and his skill in speaking the dramatist's words. There was no vast distance between him and the audience to soften the impression, nor scenic accessories to aid him in creating his picture. The conditions of the pageant stage are the exact reverse. The actor is separated from the spectators by a space sometimes greater than that of the Greek theatre. Behind him is a natural setting, against which trivial gestures and minute shades of expression are lost. On the other hand, this natural setting lends itself admirably to pictorial treatment, so that what is lost in individual character interpretation is compensated for by group and mass effects. The general principles of pageant acting, ACTING 115 therefore, are nearer those of the Greeks, "a series of slowly changing rhythmic movements, accompanied by sonorous utterance." 1 Distinctness in speaking the lines, together with simple, broad action and minute attention to securing beauty in the grouping, are the things with which the producer is chiefly concerned. The individual subordinates his acting to his surroundings, instead of trying to detach himself from them. With a general understanding of the kind of acting required, the producer proceeds to choose the cast. Here the eagerness of the candidates to participate is worth more to the producer than problematical rhetorical ability. Full advantage of enthusiasm should be made use of by assigning as many as possible of the important roles to those who manifest the most interest. Tact is needed to apportion all the parts satisfactorily, but it may be assumed that the pageant producer possesses this. Of course it is necessary to choose certain characters on the basis of physical qualifications; an individual with a weak voice may not undertake a heavy part, nor a short man the role of a historical personage famous for his massive proportions. Judgment and discretion easily decide these and similar questions. There is, however, one method of choosing actors for historical characters which has become a custom: any available descendants of famous families are assigned to personate their ances- tors. Not only does this add to the public interest in the pageant, but it is also a potent way of securing the assist- ance of these individuals. 1 Caflin: Appreciation of the Drama, p. 71. 116 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY Rehearsals are preferably begun with isolated episodes and with only the speaking characters. The groups will require separate rehearsing. 1 As a preliminary, the director assembles the whole cast and reads to them the complete text. It is essential that everyone in the production be familiar with the general idea and spirit of the pageant. In any case, the producer reads aloud each episode before its first rehearsal. Next, the members of the cast read their parts, each one in the order of speaking, so that the producer may gain some knowledge of the voice, accent, intonation and intelligence of his actors. As they read the director will give a few brief directions about the positions of the characters on the stage and any "business" 2 required by the action of the scene. The actors should write these directions into their parts and memorize them as carefully as the lines. Each individual is next taken aside and given a brief sketch of the charac- ter as the producer conceives it, or is asked first for his or her understanding of it. Throughout the director will suggest and question rather than issue instructions con- cerning the method of interpretation. Amateurs cannot readily assume a part requiring an emotional expression beyond their experience, and to turn them aside to an attempt which they feel to be unnatural will not usually be successful. They must be persuaded to feel at home in speaking their lines; therefore the director allows them to express their own ideas of their parts as far as possible. 1 See Chap. VI, Grouping. 1 "Business," as the word is used in acting, means anything done by a performer other than speaking his lines. ACTING 117 Nearly all amateurs have, however, certain pronounced faults which are comparatively easily remedied if the director has inspired the confidence of everyone in the value of his advice. The first of these is faulty articulation, which may be anything from indistinctness of pronuncia- tion to failure correctly to produce the voice, with conse- quent loss of carrying power. The average line, whether on the outdoor or indoor stage, is spoken more slowly than in actual conversation. This is especially true in the open air, where the difficulties of making one's self heard are greatly increased. On the other hand, the tendency of many amateurs is to speak rapidly, to hurry their lines, either through nervousness and self-conscious- ness, or else to show how well they know them. Nervous- ness will also cause them to look down when they are speaking, thus preventing their lines from being heard. They must be interrupted frequently at the outset and made to take a slower tempo. Failure to produce the voice correctly will require practice on the part of the actor to overcome. He must be impressed with the necessity for neatness of articulation. This cannot be attained by mere sound. Shouting the lines will not make them carry further; on the contrary, it makes faulty articulation more pronounced. Only by giving proper attention to the true sounds of vowels and consonants can the words convey the meaning intended. 1 Syllables must not be slurred, 1 Harmony of tone among the varied voices on the stage f s nn effect worth striving for, but difficult of accomplishment. There is no reason, however, why the musical tones of the spoken voice, and the harmony of one tone with another, should be so conspicuously neglected as is often the case on the modern stage. Cf., Henry Irving, Tlte Drama, p. 76: "An 118 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY particularly final syllables, but each should receive its due share of emphasis. Finally the amateur will need to be told, to keep his voice up until the end of a line is reached. His tendency is to let the voice fall toward the close of a sentence, thus obscuring the last half of the line. Correct articulation demands attention to several de- tails. Every word should be slightly accented. The thought of every sentence and speech should be made dominant and clear. The idea in each phrase should be marked by putting proper emphasis on the important words. Pauses should be appropriate to the sense and give repose to the diction. To hurry the lines gives an impression of stage fright. Breath should be taken in the proper places so that the spoken line will not seem to end because of the exhaustion of the speaker. Variety should be given to the way the lines are spoken to avoid a monotonous or sing-song method of delivery. Above all, the actor should seem to speak naturally, with a full appreciation of the meaning of the lines and not to recite them as if they were a memorized speech. 1 Sometimes the producer must be on his guard against the too ambitious amateur who is so anxious to make a good impression upon the audience that he overdoes his imperfect elocution is apt to degenerate into a monotonous uniformity of tone." 1 Cf. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, in Dictionnaire de Musique, under the word Acteur: "Nothing is more intolerable and in worse taste than to see a hero, in a transport of deep passion, constrained and ill at ease in his part; or to hear him recite his lines like a schoolboy who knows his lesson imper- fectly showing, instead of the struggles with duty and inclination, those of a bad artist with the technical difficulties of his profession." ACTING 119 part. Or again, he will try to magnify the importance of a minor role by speaking his lines with exaggerated em- phasis, hoping thereby to attract more than his share of the audience's attention. Less frequently such an actor will elaborate his by-play, or stage business. Not only do such conceited mannerisms put him out of harmony with the scene, but they detract from the work of his fellows by drawing all eyes toward him. As Hamlet re- marked, this "shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it." Acting is not rhetorical declamation, as Talma, the friend and contemporary of Garrick, has said. "To declame is to speak with emphasis; therefore the art of declamation is to speak as one does not naturally speak therefore let us give up this word, since it does not express the truth about acting." The amateur must guard himself against a false or declamatory emphasis, or if he does not, the producer must see to it. Stage presence, or the way to stand and move about a stage, is a simple matter in outdoor acting, but it is more difficult to appear at ease upon an indoor stage. The pageant director should aim to eliminate any suggestion of theatrical conventions in the movements and gestures of his pupils. Let him impress upon them that acting does not mean to throw one's self into all sorts of atti- tudes, nor to assume stiff and unnatural poses. Of the two forms of acting, outdoor and indoor, the open-air is the more deliberately artificial. The reason is that it is the actor's duty to make himself heard at all costs. Therefore it is better always to accompany the spoken lines with a slight movement or gesture to focus the 120 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY audience's attention on the speaker. Otherwise the spectators cannot readily pick out the speaker from a large group at some distance from them. The gestures themselves should be simple, calculated solely to give force to what is said. In outdoor acting gestures and movement take the place of facial expression. The latter requires an intimate stage. Even on the indoor stage, however, the intricate play of facial expression is beyond the power of most amateurs. The director will devote some of his efforts, therefore, to eliminating it, but will suggest as a substitute the appropriate gesture or movement. Gesture should be typical of the character represented. Each individual has certain characteristics which are illustrated by his walk and by his every movement. Thus the pantomimic action follows closely the interpretation of the character conceived by the actor. 1 The spoken line and its accompanying gesture are two halves of the same unit. Equal thought and care should be given to each. Movement is a supplementary means for conveying the thought of the line. A meaningless or a hesitating gesture is to be avoided. An actor should never make use of a gesture the purpose of which he cannot explain. It follows that the gesture precedes the speaking of the line at least, it is usually begun before the actor utters a word, because one's normal instinct is to move first and speak only as the idea involved takes shape in one's 1 Cf. Macready's remarks, quoted by Henry Irving in The Drama, p. 54; the player's art is "to fathom the depths of character, to trace its latent motives, to feel its finest quiverings of emotion, to comprehend the thoughts that are hidden under words, and thus to possess one's self of the actual mind of the individual mind." ACTING 121 mind. 1 To sum up, the object of gesture is not to add rhetorical effect to the lines so much as it is to give an actor an appearance of perfect ease and naturalness, to show that his words have the same emotional meaning for him as for the hearers. It is for these reasons that his pantomime, while simple, must be the result of intelligent study. The director's task is to note the appropriateness of the chosen movements and, when necessary, to suggest corrections. As a last word, the actor should be reminded to memorize his actions with his lines, in order that his interpretation from day to day shall be consistent. So elementary a matter as walking across a stage re- quires practice to overcome any appearance of nervousness or seeming indecision. 2 The stride is of a length habitual to the actor, and each step is made firmly and without hesitation. Although the rate at which the actor walks depends upon the emotion he is at the moment conveying, the normal walk is a little slower than in real life. The larger the stage and the greater the distance from the audience, the more deliberate is the walk. Time must be allowed for every effect to carry, and this is true of the walk no less than of the other movements. Any change, however, from the actor's usual way of walking must not betray him into affectation, such as dragging the feet after the manner of the old-fashioned barn-storming tragedian. 1 Cf. Henry Irving, Tlie Drama, p. 83: "It is necessary that the actor should learn to think before he speaks. . . . Let him remember, first, that every sentence expresses a new thought and, therefore, frequently demands a change of intonation; secondly, that the thought precedes the word." 1 It must be remembered that all attempts to describe acting in worda, instead of by physical illustrations, result inevitably in a certain exaggera- tion of statement. 122 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY If too slow, the actor will appear awkward or affected; if too rapid, he will seem nervous or may even stumble. Again, the walk is indicative of character and is therefore studied from this point of view. A timid character will * not cross the stage in the same way as a bluff person, nor a fairy like a goddess, and so on. A vain or affected character has a mincing gait, an air of choosing the spot to place his feet with some degree of nicety. His feet seem almost instinctively to assume a so-called dancing position * when he pauses, because his whole attitude is constantly a conscious pose. Physical strength is expressed in a rather heavy stride, with the feet far apart, the body leaning forward aggressively, and the steps are taken with unquestioned firmness. Walking on tip-toe is an indication of mystery, discretion, curiosity, or surprise. Self-important characters swagger and atti- tudinize. Absent-minded men pause or hesitate, as if they had forgotten just what it was they had set out to do. Strong emotion or indecision is indicated by rapidly walking up and down the stage. Old men and women characters should walk with an indication of their declining physical powers, but without the tottering and trembling so often seen in these roles in the theatre. A man need not dodder about the stage because he has reached three score and ten. Shyness and awkwardness are difficult to express naturally, their conventional representations being mere absurdities. The amateur, in representing these characteristics, had better under-do than over-do the affected twists and turnings which the theatre has associ- 1 I.e., toes turned out, one foot almost directly behind the other. ACTING 123 ated with these ideas. Fear, surprise, and unexpected revelations cause the actor to start, not with violence, but enough to show that he has grasped the full meaning of what he sees or hears. Consequently he must be care- ful not to start ahead of time, or in other words anticipate the revelation before he receives the cue. In the latter case the effect of the scene upon the audience will be spoiled. In connecting the different actions it is necessary to observe the gradations which the changes of thought in the lines imply. Amateurs must be warned constantly to put variety into both what they say and do. Scenes should not be played on one emotional level throughout, but the actor must keep himself in hand so as to have a reserve of strength and power for a climax of emotion. If the character is acted at full pitch all the way through a scene, there will be no light and shade, no contrast, and the result will be monotony. 1 The producer's work is to stimulate the imaginations of his amateurs to make them feel and realize the scene. Their emotions respond more readily to make-believe than is the case with pro- fessionals. Amateurs generally cannot escape from self- consciousness unless real feeling is a basis for their acting. The professional has made the expression of emotion a business and can command any mood he wishes. How- ever, if he is not a great artist, or a man of long experience 1 Cf. George Henry Lewes, On Actors and if if Art of Acting, p. n3: "It by no means follows, as some persons seem to imply, that because exaggeration is a fault, lameness is a merit. Exaggeration is a fault because it is an untruth; but in art it is as easy to be untrue by falling below as by rising above naturalness." 124 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY in important parts, his efforts do not have the sincerity and conviction which a group of amateurs will show when under proper guidance. The amateurs, of course, lack the technical finish of the professional, but they make up for this by a greater enthusiasm. What the producer has to do is to direct this eagerness into the right channels. If he can visualize his scene, his pupils will visualize it too; and once they have done that they can be led to give surprisingly spirited and well-varied series of interpre- tations. The gradations come, then, only after the actors have seen the episode in their imaginations. A good pro- ducer does not so much teach acting as give his amateurs this power of visualizing through their imaginations. Among some of the details of acting which demand preparation are the manners and actions of certain his- torical periods. A sword fight or a fencing scene will be made ridiculous without adequate rehearsal. In fighting a duel it is necessary to measure the ground, and settle beforehand on what part of the stage the fall or death will take place, so as to prevent confusion and danger of accident. A duel must necessarily be conventional in plan, unless the two performers are skilled fencers. Every thrust and guard should be studied and agreed upon, as well as numbered, so that each movement is well timed. The thrusts and guards must be rehearsed in a definite order, slowly at first, and then more rapidly as the actors' familiarity increases. Above all, it is necessary to keep cool so as not to diverge from the agreed-upon plan, or serious consequences may follow. However expert the performers are, pointed or edged swords must never be ACTING 125 used. A dull sword can inflict a severe wound, if there is any mistake made. Real weapons imply wholly unnecessary risk. In colonial times taking and offering snuff was a com- mon act of courtesy performed with considerable cere- mony. Gentlemen carried snuff boxes of costly design, which they were proud to display on the slightest pretext. The box was always offered in the right hand, the h'd struck open by a movement of the fingers. As the snuff was presented to the recipient, the donor bowed. The former then bowed in return and took a small pinch be- tween his thumb and forefinger. The owner, transferring the box to his left hand, took another pinch and the two men bowed again. The lid was snapped to and the snuff inhaled simultaneously with grace and delicacy of move- ment. Then each man flicked away with his lace hand- kerchief all traces that might have fallen upon his shirt frills or waistcoat. The utmost deliberation and formality in this polite accomplishment was always observed. In kneeling it is customary to drop to the knee on the side away from the audience; that is, the right knee will touch the ground if the public is on the actor's left, or the left knee if they are on his right side. A lady's curtsey must be done slowly and gracefully, with particular care to preserve the balance. In shaking hands, a lady will simplify the stage positions if she always offers the hand nearest the person who addresses her. In managing a dress with a long train slow movements are advisable. The train is controlled by the hand and kept in position on the side towards the audience. To back away, it is lifted clear of the ground. 126 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY What to do with his hands often puzzles the inexperi- enced actor. When not used for gestures, he should let them hang naturally by the side, not stiffly as if on a drill ground. 1 An erect carriage causes the arms and hands to assume a natural position. If the actor wears a sword, one hand may rest upon the hilt from time to time. Some- times the actor may carry his hat in his hand; ladies will find a fan useful for keeping their hands occupied. The chief thing is not to appear conscious of one's hands, or to make fussy, meaningless movements with them which betray nervousness. If the actor can contrive to forget that he has hands, except when they are needed in action, he will do well. Another fault of amateurs is to stand too closely to the person they are addressing. On the outdoor stage particularly, the figures should be well spaced. To stand on top of the other actor prevents the audience from having a clear view. Not only allow the others their share of the stage, but avoid standing beside them. In the open air it is necessary to speak towards the audi- ence; consequently all the stage positions are determined by this fact. If the actors are in a straight line, one next the other, they will not seem to be talking among them- selves. Irregular lines, with plenty of space between the 1 It is more or less an axiom of the stage that when an actor has nothing to do with his hands, he should do nothing with them. Other similar axioms are summed up by Alfred Ayres in Acting and Actors, pp. 34-5, as follows: "Never put one hand behind your back; either both or neither. Never stand with your arms akimbo, unless you would express something by doing so. Never put your thumbs in your belt. Never clutch the hilt of your sword. Never toy with your drapery. Never forget that to gesticu- late over-much is a characteristic of impotency. Never forget that repose is worth more to an actor than all the cardinal virtues." ACTING 127 individuals, allow the actors to turn toward the audience without loss of illusion. Indoors they can speak across the stage, but even then it is better for the performers to keep turned three-quarters of the way around. Not only are they more easily heard, but this allows opportunity for the audience to follow their facial expressions. An actor falls back a step or two when he wishes to make a strong impression upon the other characters, and comes forward when he is to receive one. As a general rule, in the open air, 1 no actor will speak a line with his back to the audience. This was once the convention of the indoor stage as well, but recently the custom has been more honored in the breach. To-day, if the arrangement of the scene requires the actor to turn his back, he does so. It follows, though, that important lines cannot be spoken from this position. The actor may turn away to hide strong emotion or to perform some necessary piece of stage "business," otherwise he will remember that his first duty is to make his lines heard. To know how to listen to the dialogue of others is not one of the least of an actor's talents. The tendency of an amateur, once he has spoken his line, is to step out of the picture until it is again his turn to speak. He will often appear quite undisturbed by a fellow-actor's most fervid description of moving accidents by flood and field. 1 Cf. Caflin, Appreciation of the Drama, pp. 70-71: "The Greek actor of the classic period must have relied very little upon suggesting the illusion of nature. The size of the theatre made him speak with a deliberation that was unnatural. Nuances of facial, vocal, and gestural expression must have been lost. The effects aimed at must have been simple, broad, and em- phatic. ... As the actor waited for his voice to carry, so he no doubt held his pose that it might also carry." 128 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY To be a good listener on the stage is to follow the words of others with intelligence, with appropriate gestures, and to indicate what thoughts and emotions these words call up in one's mind. And all this must be done, of course, without distracting the attention of the audience from the speaker. On the contrary, it is the object of the listener's by-play to help the understanding of the speaker's lines. The producer, as has been suggested, will not try to over-elaborate the details of pageant acting. It is true that what is done upon the stage is as important as, if not more so than, what is said, yet it is better to conceive the action on broad, simple lines. If the director is fussy the rehearsals soon become irksome to the performers. He must never let enthusiasm wane through any fault of his. If he approaches the production of a pageant in the same spirit as he would that of a theatrical performance, he will not get the results he expects. Acting in pageantry is an art for amateurs; to insist upon the rules of the pro- fessional stage will reduce everyone to mediocrity, if not to something worse. It is the spirit and understanding of the performers that count; an awkward gesture or occasional false intonation cannot seriously mar the total effect. But too much time spent on eliminating minor faults may easily kill the thing most worth having, namely, the enthusiasm of everybody. Finally, he will not be satisfied until he has completely welded together the cast in each of the episodes a process known in athletics as securing "team-work." Each player must be taught the art of playing up to his fellow- actors, in order that the efforts of all may seem natural ACTING 129 and spontaneous. A scene must progress with clock-work precision and yet not appear mechanical. 1 As a matter of fact the esprit de corps which enthusiastic amateurs easily acquire will carry them a long way toward the ability to play into each other's hands. The producer has only to point out the advantage of cooperation in acting, and if the rest of his work has been well and conscientiously done, he may face his opening performance with a fair degree of calm. 1 Cf. Henry Irving, The Drama, p. 83: "All the members of a company should work towards a common end, with the nicest subordination of their individuality to the general purpose. Without this method a play when acted is at best a disjointed and incoherent piece of work, instead of being a harmonious whole like the fine performance of an orchestral symphony." CHAPTER VI GROUPING " Onto the stage, prepared by architect and painter, now steps Artistic Man, as Natural Man steps on the stage of Nature, What the statuary and the historical painter endeavored to limn on stone or canvas, they now limn upon themselves, their form, their body's limbs, the features of their visage, and raise it to the consciousness of full artistic life. The same sense that led the sculptor in his grasp and rendering of the human figure, now leads the Mime in the handling and demeanor of his actual body. The same eye which taught the historical painter, in drawing and in color, in arrange- ment of his drapery and composition of his groups, now orders the whole breadth of actual human show." RICHARD WAGNER. ROUPING, or the massing of figures upon the stage, is so important a detail of pageant production that it requires separate consideration. Attention has already been called to the arrangement of colors in grouping. This chapter deals more specifically with groups as plastic com- positions. 1 Whether the production is to be given outdoors on a natural stage, or indoors on a relatively narrow plat- form, the objects of grouping are the same namely, to create a picture based upon accepted theories of composition. Obviously, however, the kind of picture obtained, and con- sequently its method of composition, will vary with each 1 Cf. Arthur Symons, Plays, Acting, and Music, p. 9: "We are apt to look on the chorus in Greek plays as almost a negligible part of the struc- ture. . . . We know, however, that the chorus was the original nucleus of the play, that the action on which it seems to comment is no more than a development of the chorus." GROUPING 131 change in the type and surroundings of the stage, and like- wise will depend upon the mood of the individual scenes. Line and form are the governing factors in group compo- sition. These in turn are obtained by spacing or massing the figures, and by the harmony and proportion of the groups in relation to the space occupied and to the back- ground. Too often in outdoor drama and pageantry pro- ducers seem to feel that given enough performers they can gain effects by sheer masses; that numbers by themselves are a sufficient appeal to the imagination. 1 As a result, not enough time and care is spent in designing and rehearsing the groups. Again, as a practical question, it is a difficult matter to get large numbers of performers to attend to- gether at regular rehearsals, so that the producer is hampered by absentees in carrying out his plans. This difficulty can never be entirely overcome, but it may be diminished if proper enthusiasm is instilled into the actors. A producer with well-worked-out plans is not only in a position to solve his artistic problem, but his theories of grouping, once they are grasped by his co-workers, will assist in stimulating interest and thus assure well-attended rehearsals. For both these reasons, therefore, he must not appear to others to proceed empirically. His plans must be so definite that there will seem to be method in any alterations which rehearsals convince him are necessary. Thus he will inspire confidence in what he is trying to do, 1 Cf. Nietzsche on Tragedy: "We now see that the stage and the action are conceived only as a vision: that the sole 'reality' is precisely the chorus which itself produces the vision, and expresses it by the aid of the whole symbolism of dance, sound, and word." (Quoted by Arthur Symons, op. eil., p. 10.) 132 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY since it will be seen that he is working for a known end. Nothing is more discouraging to amateurs or more destruc- tive of their confidence, than for a producer to be uncertain of what he wants. Finally, the best of any producer is his ability to manage and dispose of large groups. 1 It is now time to turn to the discussion of the principles on which grouping depends, and then to consider differences arising from outdoor and indoor productions. In the first place, effective grouping is based upon the laws of pictorial composition. Unlike the artist, with his paint and canvas, however, the producer is working in three dimensions, with figures that move and shift their positions, sometimes rapidly, sometimes slowly. Needless to say, this enormously complicates the problem. That is why rehearsals are needed, as much to correct the pro- ducer's theories as to train the performers. He designs the grouping for a scene, tries its effect at a rehearsal, and then makes his required alterations. But as has been said earlier in the chapter, his experiments are not a hap- hazard shuffling about of his figures until he stumbles upon a satisfactory grouping. Rather are the changes based upon correcting by actual visualization the pictures which perhaps had imperfectly formed themselves in his mind's eye. His preliminary plans rest upon a desire to select and combine the details of a scene in harmonious relation to one another and thus to give unity to the whole conception. 1 Cf. Gordon Craig, On the Art of the Theatre, p. 21: "Let me tell you at the commencement that it is the large and sweeping impression produced by means of scene and the movement of the figures which is undoubtedly the most valuable means at your disposal." GROUPING 133 Of the numberless possible ways which may be employed in grouping figures in a given scene, that must be un- doubtedly the best which is suggested by the nature of the scene itself. It should comprehend its greatest scope and energy and give just value and importance to the principal figures or the most important action. The scene should not be encumbered with meaningless groups, or with movements which do not contribute to the cooperation of all the parts. 1 Finally, all art depends upon suggestion, upon creating the desired illusion. Thus at the outset it will be noted that there are two types of scenes whose methods of composition vary: in certain scenes the important elements are two or more characters, to whom the groups are subsidiary; in others, the events represented are of greater importance than any of the individuals. An example of the first sort would be, say, General Washington receiving the sword from the hands of Lord Cornwallis in token of the latter's surrender. The second type of scene would be a battle between lines of opposing troops. The former is static at the moment of greatest interest, with the attention focussed upon the figures of the two generals. The latter is all movement, with rapidly shifting points of interest and with no pre- dominating individuals. To return for a moment to the surrender of Cornwallis, the dominating figure around whom the scene is composed is that of General Washington. He, therefore, would stand near, but not in the exact centre of the stage, facing toward the audience, perhaps a three quarters' view would 1 Barry, l^ecluret on Painting, ed. R. N. Womum, London, i8/j8. 134 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY be best. On one side, but apart from Washington, would be grouped his staff, so arranged that the lines would lead the eye naturally toward the important personages. Back of them again would be massed the American troops, in symmetrical lines, having as a secondary composition point a large battle-flag. The effect of mass and weight of numbers would be indicated as belonging to the American troops and their French allies ; therefore they would occupy the background of the whole composition. Cornwallis and the British staff officers would stand with their backs partly turned to the audience, the lines of their advance leading toward the figure of Washington. Finally, the composition would be balanced on the left by a group of prisoners standing under guard. It is obvious, however, that the second type of scene, consisting of rapid movement, is more difficult to produce. Only general instructions can be given, but if the scene is a battle, then there will naturally be a moment of climax, or highest tension in the action, followed by a gradually descending scale of slower movement. The producer will work toward building up his climax with rapidly increasing interest, and will aim to secure emphasis when the height of the action is reached. Every cooperating object, group, and subsidiary action must appear in its own proper and most available situation. Intention must govern through- out, and nothing be left to chance. It is the business of the producer's imagination to discern in his own mind all the possible circumstances of the action; to select and unite whatever is most essential, most interesting, and of the greatest consequence to the energetic carrying forward of GROUPING 135 the action; and to be able, at the same time, to reject and suppress any useless or distracting elements which the first conception may have suggested to him. Once the climax has been reached, the action must terminate without loss of effect. Since the outdoor stage possesses no curtain, the action cannot be cut off at the moment of highest tension, as is frequently done in the theatre. The dispersal of the groups must be managed without loss either of pictorial or dramatic effect a thing easier to say than to do. The best way is to have recurring waves of action, each diminishing in intensity, after the main climax, until the stage is finally cleared. Upon the actors must be impressed the fact that down to the least conspicuous member of every group, they are the persons they represent from the moment they enter the stage until they leave it. This does not, however, mean that the members of the groups are to strive to make their personalities or their acting con- spicuous. They must not step out of the unit group to which they belong, even for an instant. Their personalities are rigidly subordinated to the requirements of the group. Each type of scene, that is the static and the kinetic, must be studied both as a separate problem in grouping, and in its relation to the other scenes of the spectacle. In each case, the underlying principle of the grouping depends upon line and form. Through these two elements the idea or intention of the scene is conveyed. One cannot, as Walter Crane has pointed out, 1 put a number of forms together (in this case, human figures) without some sort of relation, either of general character and contour, or some uniting 1 Line and Form, p. ifiy. 136 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY line. Each group must be designed with relation to the enclosing line, or, if one prefers, to the silhouette of the mass. The producer first visualizes the edges of his pro- posed masses, and then designs the lines so that they are expressive of the idea or movement intended. Thus, as a general rule, uniformity of grouping produces an effect of grandeur, and a variegated composition, beauty. The extreme of either uniformity or variety is to be avoided. A dull repetition of the same things is in the end tiresome; on the other hand, a too great variety, or affectation of continued and strongly-marked diversity, distracts the attention and weakens the imagination of the audience. The object in grouping is to enable the spectators to view the whole scene as a single composition to compre- hend it in its entirety. 1 Therefore it is necessary that its several parts (however variegated in their details) be skil- fully linked together by the enclosing lines so as to form one general appearance. There is always one central focus of interest to which everything else on the stage contributes. The several groups are the masses of the whole composition. They must, then, be diversified either in their magnitude, or in the lines of their contour, or in both. Of these groups, or masses, one ought to be princi- pal, and all the others dependent and subordinate. The principal mass or group will contain the focus of interest and is, of course, arranged with this in mind. 1 Cf. the theory of Professor Max Reinhardt that the purpose of a theatrical spectacle is to appeal to the senses of the spectators without wearying them. Also Gordon Craig: In the Greek drama, "it was the move- ment of the chorus which moved the onlookers." Towards a New Theatre, p. 8. GROUPING 137 Furthermore, whatever is the general outline of the re- lated figures, it should be neither too regular, nor too com- plicated. The proportion of each group, in its relation to the centre of interest, and to the surrounding or related groups must be kept in mind. Here again proportion de- pends upon the importance of the part each group plays in the scene. Last of all, the finished composition must appear well-balanced that is, the groups must be so dis- posed that the space upon the stage is filled, as otherwise the spectators' eyes will be drawn toward the gaps and away from the focus of interest. Besides, large spaces leave certain groups detached and unrelated to the others. A balanced composition has also symmetry not the geometrical symmetry of exact numbers or of line and mass arranged in a mathematical pattern, but a symmetry attained rather through the harmony and appropriateness of the elements. As in the structure of the spectacle as a whole, variety in unity is what the producer strives to attain in the handling of his group compositions. 1 His constant endeavor is to secure variety without making it apparent that his groups are studiedly artificial. Their disposition must be natural such as the scene demands - and, at the same time, the result of the producer's efforts must be a picture composition so satisfying to look upon that the audience will not question how it was done. 2 1 Cf. Gordon Craig On the Art of the Theatre, p. 3/i: "Masses must be treated as masses, as Rembrandt treats a mass, as Bach and Beethoven treat a mass, and detail has nothing to do with mass . . . you do not make an impression of mass by crowding a quantity of details together." * It is perhaps worth noting that a group composition, however striking, must not be prolonged, or the attention of the audience is fatigued and they fail to appreciate the effect of the remainder of the scene. 138 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY Upon the outdoor stage, grouping has to be managed with far-away perspectives * and natural lighting. There can be no use of artificial light, save in evening perform- ances, to assist the producer in obtaining emphasis upon his centre of interest. Therefore the problem of open-air daylight performances is different from that of night or indoor representations. Assume, however, that the average out- door stage has three distances a far-off perspective, a middle-ground still comparatively remote from the audi- ence, and a foreground as near as may be. Three general classes of groups are determined by these three distances. The far-away perspective may be used for entrances and exits, for processions and recessionals, for Indians or troops approaching to the attack, for the arrival of the stage- coach and similar episodes requiring neither dialogue nor minutely visible detail. The middle-distance is given up to battle scenes and to all episodes requiring numbers and rapid movements. In the foreground occur the dialogue scenes or the scenes in which a few individuals are con- spicuously prominent, as well as solo dances and the smaller dance interludes. Another condition which allows the producer more flexi- bility in disposing his figures is that the outdoor stage is so vast that the mathematical centre loses the importance it has in the theatre. The centre here is the centre of interest, and that may be shifted from side to side, or for- ward and backward, as desired, thus allowing more variety in grouping, while at the same time demanding more care 1 Cf. Arthur Kahane in Glossen zum Theater der Fiinftausend: "Vast space demands the simplest of forms, and strong, big, severe lines." GROUPING 139 in composition. It is easier to arrange the performers in symmetrical groups about the centre of the stage than it is to place the action either on the right or the left. How- ever, simply because this plan is easier does not excuse a producer for adhering to it throughout. Suppose, for example, that a colonial governor is about to receive a deputation of Indians. It is better to place the governor and his attendants on one side of the stage, so that the audience have an uninterrupted view of the far perspective whence the Indians are to appear. Messengers arriving from that direction give the spectators warning to keep their attention on the far distance. Then the slow, pro- cession-like approach of the Indians may be made most effective and natural, as they emerge one by one and wind across the long intervening space before reaching the gov- ernor's presence. Thus a scene not necessarily dramatic in itself may be rendered interesting by attention to its pic- torial values. Compare this with the same scene having the governor standing in the centre of the stage directly before the audience, and the Indians arriving from a side entrance near by. They would have transacted their busi- ness with the governor without the spectators being aware of the picturesque caravan of an Indian tribe upon the march. Nor would there be any anticipation of their arrival no suspense. The whole scene would be matter of fact and business-like. In general, movement upon the middle-distance should be in lines parallel to the audience as troops advancing across the stage to attack others intrenched upon the oppo- site side. In this way the maximum effect of the move- 140 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY ment is perceived. The lines of the advancing figures in battle naturally would not be straight, as is the case with soldiers at drill, but irregular or curved. In like manner large static groups in the middle-distance, facing the audi- ence, should be arranged on a curved line, approximately forming a half-circle, and not in wedge-shaped lines, such as are frequently used in the professional theatre. Again, it is impossible to compose an artistic picture in the middle- distance, if the spectators' seats extend along the side of the stage beyond the space occupied by the foreground. No producer can dispose his groups on a large scale so that a view of them is effective from all angles. On the other hand, there is not the same objection to spectators' lining the sides of the foreground, for it is here the episodes occur in which individuals are the centre of interest, and all groups are kept subordinate to the speakers. The groups are used on the foreground partly to narrow down the stage, to cut off the view of the far perspective, to give, in other words, the effect of an inti- mate stage, while of course retaining their pictorial values. But they should not surround the speakers so closely as to impede a side view. The disposition of foreground groups, once more, is not in a straight but a curved or irregular line, the central mass so placed that it draws the eye toward the most important actors, and the subsidiary masses contributing to leading the lines of sight in that direction. To sum up the problems of grouping on the outdoor stage, the producer has to compose pictures containing perspectives on a much larger scale than is the case indoors. Consequently his work is in a certain way more difficult, GROUPING 141 although the difficulties are to some extent offset by the fact that he has natural scenery and lighting to aid him. He has to take careful note of the problems of the far, middle, and near stages, and to treat each as a separate factor in his designs. Finally, he must hold fast to his prin- ciples of pictorial composition and leave nothing to chance, or to the vain hope that he will muddle through the perform- ance on the strength of numbers and beautiful costumes. On the indoor stage the matter of grouping is, in general, one of shallow perspectives. The question more closely resembles the painter's art. A long, narrow stage approxi- mates the flat canvas against which the painter places his figures. Thus the producer, like the painter, has the choice of two methods of treatment. He may proceed realisti- cally and endeavor to create an illusion of depth and per- spective by artful management of his composition, or he may frankly treat his scenes decoratively, that is to say, he may work something after the manner of a pattern designer or a painter of friezes. It is difficult, if not artis- tically impossible, to suggest the vast spaces of the open air. 1 The commercial theatre has tried it, but never with convincing success. A middle distance cannot be attained on a wooden platform a few feet square, however cleverly the backdrop may be painted or however realistically the details of the foreground may be worked out. As the actors go up-stage, the middle distance vanishes and they come into ludicrous contact with the perspectives of the 1 Cf. the discussion by Frit/ Erler of this general fallacy of competing with nature in Ausslellung der Biihnenenlwurfe (Faust, Hamlet). There are also many references scattered through Gordon Craig's writings. 142 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY background. Therefore of recent years certain producers have abandoned the attempt at realistic treatment of out- door scenes on the indoor stage and have gone frankly over to decorative methods. 1 In discussing the building and arrangement of the indoor stage, the value of the neutral, unlocalized background was pointed out, because it was economically ^uid artistically more suitable for the many changing episodes of the pa- geant and equally applicable to community drama. The neutral, permanent draperies of such a stage imply a deco- rative handling of the groups. But while the word "deco- rative" forbids the so-called realism of the theatre, it does not limit the producer to any lack of variety in his subse- quent work. "Decorative," as applied to the stage, simply means that the groups and episodes are studied primarily as pictorial compositions having a shallow perspective, with the more important elements of the picture arranged in a single plane, or in certain combinations of lines and masses. The producer may take, as a basis for his work, any form of decorative art from a Greek bas-relief frieze 2 to a Japanese color print. Upon his skill and judgment in making his choice, however, depends the appropriateness of his finished pictures to the pageant theme he is illus- trating. Thus there occurs at once a sharp division be- tween the treatment of an allegorical interlude and of a historical or realistic scene. The costume of each period 1 This question is well discussed by Georg Fuchs in Die Revolution des Theaters. 2 The first attempt at a fresco or bas-relief-like treatment was made in Russia by Meyerhold and Stanislavsky in their projected production of Maeterlinck's La Mori de Tiniagiles. MASS AND LINE flnorp Photo by Ira Hill, X. T CinoriMMi. I MM ..,!- (irei'k (inriics Miiriuird : Ira Hill, \. ) GROUPING 143 conditions, to a certain degree, his foundation elements. The figures of colonial times are not to be combined as if they were members of a Greek frieze, nor would modern industrialism be represented after the manner of a Japanese print. On the other hand, each of the periods suggested as examples possesses characteristics on which the decorative treatment of the scene may be based. For instance, a scene portraying the wealthier classes of Colonial times is regarded first of all from the point of view of the formalism which governed the manners of the day. Dignity, calmness, self-restraint, and artificiality are among its characteristics. These the producer will endeavor to bring out through deliberate movement and stately poses. He will use the maximum perspective which his platform stage allows, but without bringing his figures down onto his circular fore-stage, if he has one. In addition to a study of the pictures of the great masters of the English school, such as Gainsborough and Sir Joshua Reynolds (to name only two), he will look at the porcelains of this period, particularly those with figure and landscapes painted in medallions. What were the theories of decora- tive art in those days? he will ask himself, and when he has gathered his materials, he will then plan his groups. In like manner he will proceed with an episode typifying modern industrialism. Here the problem is to express the vigor and power of man's effort and the machines through which this energy works. Again, there are many modern artists from whom hints and suggestions may be obtained, - Frank Brangwyn, Joseph Pennell, and others. Such a scene requires the illusion of a vast crowd. A true crowd 144 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY upon the stage is impossible, unless one chooses to call twenty to fifty people a crowd, but by the skilful dis- position of the figures, the appearance of a crowd is easily obtained, and that without using any actual depth of per- spective. When the stage seems to be filled and no open spaces are visible, the crowd will seem to be present. 1 Each episode is therefore studied as a separate problem in grouping, the final object being to express in decora- tive terms the spirit of the period represented. At the same time, the relation of each scene to the unified con- ception of the entire production is not lost sight of. An enumeration of the more formal principles of pictorial composition may be of assistance to the producer. To repeat, unity of the composition is achieved by decid- ing that one feature shall be more important than all the rest, and that other features shall be disposed in a subordi- nate relationship. This one feature may be (on the indoor stage) light, a figure more prominent than the other figures, a group, or a mass of color dominant over all the other masses. As in the use of color, repetition of similar groups pro- duces an effect of calmness and repose. Repetition is not necessarily expressed through balance of parts or through symmetry, but preferably as diminishing echoes of the principal group. Mathematical symmetry, except for con- sciously disposed ceremonial groups, such, for example, as the manoeuvres of a Greek chorus, should be avoided, because it is unnatural. 1 Cf. Gordon Craig, On the Art of the Theatre, p. 26: "You must be able to increase the impression of your numbers without actually adding another man to your forty or fifty." GROUPING 145 Similar to repetition is the principle of continuity. Here the law of perspective is brought to the producer's aid, if he is working on a large outdoor stage, and his groups are arranged so as to emphasize the narrowing lines of a true perspective. On the indoor stage a false continuity of grouping is often seen, where the lines narrow too sharply to be really effective. In treating stage grouping in a series of curved lines, again care must be taken not to make the curvature too symmetrical. As Ruskin has reminded us, graceful curva- ture is distinguished from ungraceful by two characteristics : first, its moderation, that is to say, its close approach to straightness in some part of its course; and, secondly, by its variation, that is to say, its never remaining equal in degree at different parts of its course. If the principle of line treatment depends upon radia- tion, the lines all originating from one point, or moving toward it, however much they intersect or seem to vary, the common point of departure or arrival must never be lost. Nor should any purposed variation obscure their general focus, or radiating centre. Contrast in grouping is as important as it is in color. Every form and line may be made more striking to the eye by an opponent form or line near it; a curved line is set off by a straight one, a heavy mass by a slight one, and so on. Contrast in grouping is as necessary as contrast in color; too frequent and obvious a use of the device vul- garizes the effect. Contrasts are preferably not sudden, but the eye should be gradually led from one contrasting group to the other, save of course where the contrast of 146 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY two groups is deliberately made violent for dramatic effect. One of the most important applications of contrast is in association with continuity, causing an unexpected but gentle break in a continuous series. Closely connected with the principle of contrast is that of interchange, by which the unity of two opposite things is enforced by giving to each a portion of the character of the other. It is sometimes only a reversal of contrasts, the alternation of certain elements from one group to another. Finally, the disposition of the groups must be in the end consistent and harmonious. By consistent is meant that they shall seem natural, not strained or in artificial atti- tudes relative to the subject-matter of the scene. The object of the composition is to weld the whole picture together, not to disperse groups about the stage in stereo- typed poses which may be effective in themselves. They must be a consistent part of the picture. Harmony of grouping simply implies an appropriate disposition of the figures so that at all times the groups are helping to tell the story. However decorative the treatment, the groups have a larger function than merely serving as a background for the action. They are themselves a part of the action, often its most important part, even the whole of it, and therefore they must be planned and studied with this in mind. Once more, even the experienced producer will find his model stage of chief assistance in working out his com- positions. It will not show him his groups in movement, only rehearsals can do that, but it will give him his principal moments of rest, the composition points from which the action starts. CHAPTER VII COLOR THE pictorial effect of a successful pageant or drama depends upon three things: sound, light, and move- ment. Color is one of the functions of light, and in outdoor pageantry it is of even greater importance than light itself. The art of color is one of the most difficult of all problems, as any painter will admit. It is not enough to have cos- tumes that are correct historically, skilfully managed groups, and rhythmic movement of masses, if at the end the colors of the figures form violent or harsh discords. On the other hand, the theories of artists, physicists, psychologists, and writers on aesthetics, all of whom have much to say about color, are of assistance only in the most general way to the stage director. 1 The artists speak of color as applied to flat surfaces which are at rest; the physicists tell of its abstract qualities as seen in the behavior of light rays; the psychologists, of certain labora- tory experiments on a small scale, designed to teach us its values in terms of human emotions; and the writers on aesthetics mostly disagree among themselves. None of these has much to say about the problem of shifting color 1 C. F. Ruskin, The Elements of Drawing, p. 160: "If you need examples of utterly harsh and horrible color, you may find plenty given in treatises upon coloring, to illustrate the laws of harmony." 148 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY seen in bright sunlight against a background of vivid greens, or considers the complexities of color composition caused by the artificial lighting of an indoor stage. Experience, good taste, and countless experiments with his model stage will be more valuable to the pageant di- rector than any system of theoretical rules; nevertheless, there are certain elementary principles underlying the theory of color-grouping that are necessary as a foundation. Only a brief summary of the more important facts will be attempted in this chapter. In its physical aspects, white light (or sunlight), when broken by a prism into its spec- trum, produces a band of colors which occur in the follow- ing order: red nearest where the white ray would have fallen, then orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. The different kinds of color are called hues; when they correspond to the state in which they are found in the spectrum they are known as full or high colors. Darker and lighter colors are determined by reference to the spec- trum as a standard of comparison. If they are darker than the corresponding color in the spectrum, their different degrees of darkness are termed shades. When full colors are made lighter, their different degrees of lightness are called tints; if very much lighter, they are spoken of as pale or broken. The degree of coloring, or of dark or light in a shade or tint, determines the tone, as when reference is made to a golden or gay, or a gray or sombre tone. In like manner, a positive color is one in which the shade or tint of a single hue is prominent; a neutral color, one which is so much of a mixture that there is no predominating hue. It is important to learn the correct terms in which to COLOR 149 describe colors in order to avoid the confusion so often arising from faulty or indiscriminate reference to color- values. Colors are often divided into the so-called primary red, yellow, and blue and the secondary orange, green, and violet. This classification is based on the mixing of pigments, red, yellow, and blue being the primitives which, when mixed in pairs, produce orange, green, and violet. Another division results in grouping the complementary colors. The complementary colors are those which, mixed together, produce white. This does not mean that the pigments of these colors, if combined, will yield white, but that their rays, when blended by the prism, unite to form white light. Again, it is necessary to remember that color is never absolutely self-contained, but is always more or less modi- fied by its neighbor or neighbors. Colors, therefore, may be either brightened or subdued by proximity to others. The complementary colors enhance each other's brilliancy; non-complementary colors diminish each other's beauty and effect. The laws of complementary and contrasting colors are the general principles on which theoretical color combination rests. In theory the complementary colors may always be placed side by side, and this gives the following possible combinations: red and bluish green; orange and pure blue; yellow and ultramarine blue (indigo); yellowish-green and violet; and green and purple. Von Bozold's scale of colors adds to these: carmine and bluish green; vermilion and turquoise-blue; orange and ultramarine; yellow and bluish 150 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY violet; and yellowish green and purplish violet. 1 A painter's scale of complementaries, which is more practical for the purpose of design, is as follows: ruby-red and bluish green; red-orange and sky-blue; orange and blue-violet; orange-yellow and violet; yellow and red- violet; yellow- green and ruby-red; green (emerald) and red-orange; blue-green and orange; blue and orange-yellow; blue- violet and yellow; violet and yellow-green; and red- violet and green. This is based upon water-color pigments and may be conveniently used as a standard. The theoretical triple combinations are: orange, green, and purple; red, yellow, and blue; carmine, yellowish green, and ultramarine; vermilion, green, and bluish violet; orange, bluish green, and purplish violet; and yellow, turquoise-blue, and violet. In making four color combinations, the principle is to take two pairs, one in each of which pairs is, in the spectrum, near one in the other, and then to arrange all the colors so that those which, in the spectrum, are near together shall not meet. For ex- ample, a four-color combination would be purple and green together with carmine and turquoise-blue. However, when the matter becomes as complicated as this, the designer will trust more to his actual experiments than he will to overmuch theory. The question of what quantities or proportions of com- plementary colors to use in combination involves the con- sideration of still another classification. Greens, blues, and 1 Much of the material used in these pages is drawn from Chap. XVIII of The Essentials of Esthetics, by George Lansing Raymond, New York, 1906. See also Bibliography. COLOR 151 purples are known as cold colors, while reds, oranges, and yellows are called warm. In nature the cold colors pre- dominate, at least in our northern latitudes. The back- ground of an outdoor stage is green; the distant hills are blues and purples. 1 The warm colors are less frequent, and even when found in the sunset sky and in the autumn foliage, in the hues of flowers and the plumage of birds, represent fleeting, evanescent things. The warm glow of the sunset sky endures but a brief time; even the scarlet maples shed their leaves after a few days. They strike their note of beauty strongly, then vanish. The warm colors do not persist in masses, nor are they often seen; rather they are the exceptions in nature's color scheme. 2 This fact gives the pageant designer his cue. The warm colors need to be used sparingly against their cold back- ground, or else their employment must be for a distinct emotional purpose, corresponding to the mood of the scene. If his object is merely to bring out the brilliancy of his background of green, a little vivid red is all that is needed. Harmony of color, therefore, depends not only upon the arranging of right colors together, but the arranging of the right quantities and the right degrees of them together. Furthermore, the harshest contrasts, even sometimes dis- cords, may often be brought into harmony by added notes. 3 Here again the experimental judgment must be guide. 4 Most important of all from the point of view of the pageant designer is the fact that the appeal of color when 1 Note Ruskin, Elements of Drawing, p. i6f>: "All distant color is pure color." * Cf. Lucy Crane, Art and the Formation of Taste, p. io6ff. Cf. W. R. Letharby, Stained Glass Work, p. an. 4 Cf. Ruskin, ibid., p. 161. 152 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY presented in masses is an emotional one. The harmony or discords of the color plan produce in the spectator certain moods, arouse in him definite feelings. The anal- ogy between music and color in their emotional aspects is frequently dwelt upon, but there is no space here to pursue this theory. It is sufficient to say that there is a close correspondence between them and one which the writer of music for the interludes and episodes must take into ac- count. 1 The mood or tone to be expressed by any particu- lar scene should control the elements of the color plan. For example, all low and uniform shades, even of yellows, oranges, and reds, have a quieting effect, and all high and all contrasting tints, even of purples, blues, and greens, have an exciting effect. The low tones indicate what is serious, grave, dignified, and self-controlled; when the tones are high and varied they express the opposite. Uniformity of color produces a certain seriousness, with dignity of effect; any procession, the members of which are dressed alike, will achieve something of this, irrespective of the quality of the coloring. 2 Thus in the St. Alban's pageant there was a chorus of monks in wine-colored cowls whose stately passage across the stage was one of the most impressive elements in the spectacle. Of course there is, however, a vast difference between the degree of seriousness and dig- nity in the effect, say, of this procession of monks at St. Alban's, and in that of soldiers uniformed in bright colors. In the emotional effects produced by certain color com- binations, black and white play a large part. A few examples will suffice to indicate briefly the variations which 1 See Chap. X on Music. * Raymond, op. cit., Chap. XVIII. COLOR 153 these "colors" introduce into the pageant designer's plan. Black, when blended with cold colors, produces an impres- sion of awe and horror. The black must be quite promi- nent, and, merely to render the figures clearly perceptible, must be offset in some places by cold colors of compara- tively light tints. These result in some violent contrasts whose effect is to excite perplexity and apprehension, while the total color scheme is benumbing and chilling. Obvi- ously, therefore, the producer would not adopt this com- bination for a light and merry dance interlude. Black in proximity to yellow, orange, or red has, on the other hand, emotional warmth a feeling of dread combined with ac- tive resistance to the thing feared. This is also true, if for black are substituted very dark grays, greens, blues, or purples. These blends are the colors of storms and light- ning, of tempests at sea all the nature forces which man knows to be most dangerous. Such color schemes are associated with tragedy and sombre things. They can be used only on an outdoor stage where the setting suggests wild and rugged nature, or at night. 1 The bright sunshine of a summer afternoon would make the suggestion of tragedy through the color scheme difficult, if rot impossible. White is valuable in color contrasts of all kinds; it is not, however, good to use it alone. With the cold colors blues, greens, or purples it suggests coolness, and so we frequently find it combined with these in summer costumes. With red, orange, or yellow, the effect is both exhilarating and entrancing. With black it is suitable for particular 1 In the author's Magic of the Hills, the stage was a rough, rocky hill-side which made storm effects and the corresponding color scheme possible. 154 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY effects of contrast. Finally, ivory-whites and cream-whites are warm and consequently quite different in feeling and character from dead- or blue-whites. Usually the warm white is to be preferred. It will often be necessary for the pageant designer to be famihar with the symbolic use of colors, particularly if he is dealing with mediaeval or allegorical settings. Some of these usages are famihar to everybody; others no longer are remembered by the general public. The commoner significations of various colors as exemplified in Christian art are included because of their wide applicability. In details, however, the symbolic use of colors varies from one country to another, and even from one cathedral to the other. Therefore, the following list does not pretend to be exhaustive. White has been used with symbolic meaning longer than any other color. Such widely scattered people as the Egyptians, Greeks, and East Indians have all employed it as representative of innocence of soul, of purity of thought, of holiness of life. The priests of Osiris wore it, as did the worshippers of Zeus*, the votaries of Brahma, the initiates in the Druidic rites, and the Roman Vestal Virgins. In the early Christian church, those newly admitted to the fellowship wore white garments. So did the bishops, priests, and deacons down to the time of St. Jerome. It was associated with the Virgin Mary and with the saints who had not suffered martyrdom. It was used also at dedications, harvest festivals, and (as at present) at con- firmations and weddings. In the Middle Ages white had become the general Lenten color; not, however, from its COLOR 155 association with the idea of rejoicing or of purity. It signified, instead, the absence or veiling of all color. Later on, the white altar cloths were elaborately embroidered with the symbols of the passion, done in brilliant colors. The white hangings were exchanged for red during the last fortnight of Lent, while Good Friday varied from red, through purple and violet, to black. White was frequently worn for mourning as late as the time of Mary Queen of Scots. In China to-day white is the color of mourning, and has been from ages past. Generally speaking, white is worn by women as the emblem of chastity; by rich men to indicate humility; and sometimes by judges as a symbol of integrity. It is the color of purity, virginity, innocence, faith, joy, and light. In heraldry, white may be replaced by silver or the diamond. "Argent," as the name for silver or white, did not appear in heraldry until the sixteenth century. Red, as applied to spiritual virtues, signified an ardent love or a burning zeal for the faith. It was also a symbol of royalty, of divine love, of the holy spirit, of creative power, and of heat; in a worldly sense, it typifies energy and courage; in an evil sense, cruelty, blood-guiltiness, war, and hatred. It was used on the feasts of the martyrs and at Whitsuntide. In the former instance it was an emblem of the blood shed for Christ; in the latter, of the tongues of fire which descended on the Apostles. The Pope, when he heard mass, was vested in red, and at his death was clothed in the same color. It is worn by cardinals. Scar- let in the Rible was a symbol of honor and prosperity. Crimson is frequently used in ecclesiastical decoration. Of 156 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY all the colors, red seems to have been the vaguest in mean- ing as used by ancient writers; they called it purple, crim- son, or scarlet "purpureus," "hyancinthus," "coccineus," and other terms. In heraldry red represents fire and was used to incite courage and magnanimity. It was often called "gules," and more rarely "vermeil." Red and black combined were the colors of Satan, purgatory, and evil spirits. Red and white roses, apart from their political significance in England, were emblems of love and inno- cence, or love and wisdom. Green has always been the characteristic color of the springtime, and hence stood for hope. Among the ancient Britons the instructor in the virtues of herbs and the mysteries of leech-craft wore green. It has sometimes been a symbol of contemplation. In the Middle Ages it was associated with the Feast of the Trinity. Although yellow was formerly the color of jealousy, Shakespeare's reference to the "green-eyed monster" transferred the meaning of green for all time. Mediaeval folk-lore regarded green unfavorably, from the fact that it was believed to be the favorite color of the fairies this before the fairies were regarded as beneficent beings. On the other hand, Robin Hood and his merrie men always wore "Lincoln green." In one or two rare liturgical books, 1 green is given as an alternative color for black in the office for the dead. Heraldry calls green "vert," occasionally "synobill." Blue is the symbol of heaven, of heavenly love and truth, of constancy and fidelity. It stands for eternity, faith, truth, loyalty, and spotless reputation. The bards or poets of 1 Liber Sacerdotal is, Venice, 153?; Liber Clericorum, i55o. COLOR 157 the early Britons wore blue, and their warriors daubed themselves with a blue dye known as woad. In heraldry blue is usually called "azure." Purple seems to have been associated with royal majesty as an emblem of imperial power from very early times. The Babylonians, for example, arrayed their gods in purple robes; the toga of the Roman Emperors on the day of their triumph was purple. Ecclesiastically, purple and violet are devoted to penance and fasting. Violet, how- ever, was sometimes a symbol of passion or suffering, and even of love or truth. Yellow has been conspicuous for its double meaning. As gold (the "or" of heraldry) or a clear yellow, it was the emblem of the sun, of the goodness of God, of marriage and fruitf ulness. In this case it can signify love, constancy, dignity, and wisdom. In the Bible it is a symbol of royalty and power. A dingy or less bright yellow, on the other hand, stood for jealousy, treason, inconstancy, and deceit. Judas was often represented as wearing a yellow robe. In some countries Jews were compelled to wear yellow. In France, during the sixteenth century, the doors of felons and traitors were painted this color. Gray, or ash color, was sometimes substituted for purple as a Lenten color, especially on the continent. It was also the emblem of humility, or accused innocence. Black meant darkness, wickedness, and death. It belonged to Satan. It was the color of mourning (as to-day) and of shame and despair. In the Middle Ages it was associated with witchcraft, and magic was called the "Black Art." In the thirteenth century it was a custom in churches on 158 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY Christmas Eve to have a threefold vesting: first of black, to signify the time before the declaration of the law to Moses; on the removal of this, white, to represent the days of prophecy; and then red, to symbolize the love and charity to mankind the coming of Christ brought into the world. Heraldry refers to black as "sable." 1 To turn to a more practical study of color, the pageant director must face the question of obtaining an artistic result on his stage. There are three general ideas gov- erning the selection of color for the outdoor pageant: (a) the designer has to make a picture harmonizing with the natural setting; (6) his colors have to correspond, in general effect, with the costume period of each episode; (c) whenever possible, without doing violence to the first two principles, the colors must also suggest the mood or tone of the scene. Furthermore, the color scheme of the entire pageant should be a harmonious whole; it is not enough to have each episode treated as a unit, even if the individual scenes show an artistic result when standing by themselves. In the finale, the color masses of the episodes will come together in one large grouping, and the designer must be prepared to pass this test as well. An outdoor setting prevents the choice of too arbitrary a range of possible color tones. As has been stated, sombre effects are hardly possible in brilliant sunshine a thing which the writer of the text should also bear in mind. To show a gray morning with mist lying in the valleys is not 1 The sections on color symbolism are based mainly upon Symbolism in Christian Art, by F. Edward Hulme, 6th ed., London, 1910, and the Hand- book of Legendary and Mythological Art, by C. E. Clement. COLOR 159 practical at high-noon. It is better to assume at the out- set that the stage will be bathed in sunlight and that the foreground will be distinct in a transparent atmosphere. On the other hand, sunlight heightens bright colors and makes them more intense; hence a brilliant color scale has to be very carefully graded not to appear harsh and crude outdoors. 1 The contrasts are violent and need toning down. It is an easier matter to harmonize half-tints than full bright colors. " Nature's pattern book is filled chiefly with half- tones and mixed tints." 2 Finally, each scene should have a key or dominating color with which the other hues of that episode harmonize, while again these key colors should form a harmonious scale one with the other. The first step is to plan the color masses for each inter- lude and episode, leaving details out of consideration. This is a problem which is always more or less limited by the material available for the costumes. The firms which manufacture these materials furnish pattern books showing the range of colors in which the goods can be supplied. In smaller pageants, the director may dye his own stuffs, but this is hardly practical on a large scale. He should con- struct from the range of materials obtainable as close an approximation to his standard water-color scale as possible - that is, let him first choose twelve samples as near ruby- red, red-orange, orange, and so on through the scale, as possible, leaving out of consideration for the moment any mixtures or neutral colors. What he needs first is a stand- 1 Cf. Hii-kin. op. cil., p. i5a: "Gradation is to color what curvature is to lines, both being felt to be beautiful by the pure instinct of every human mind." * Line and Form, by Walter Crane, London, 1900, p. a55. 160 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY ard to which he can refer his other materials, and to enable him to place intermediate tints, shades, and mixed hues in their correct position in the foundation scale. Having ascertained what colors he has available, the designer pro- ceeds to make a paste-board model to scale of his stage. This need only be of the roughest workmanship, provided its proportions are correct. Next he takes card-board squares, proportionate in size to the groups to be used, and covers these cards with the colored material he has in mind. These squares are set up on the model stage in the relative positions the performers and groups will occupy in the actual scene, and the effect studied. It only remains then to shift and alter his cards until he obtains what he considers a satisfactory result. It goes without saying that he will keep his model stage in the bright sunlight of the open air, and light it from the same angle as the real stage will be, while he is making his experiments. Every movement of the groups indicated by the stage directions must also be tested with the squares to insure that rearrangements of the stage will not turn harmonies into discords. By comparatively simple methods, the most complicated color harmonies may be worked out, without recourse to theoretical considerations. As each episode has its scheme determined and noted down, it is then necessary to try them one after the other, to see if equal harmony results from the succession of the scenes. Last of all, a good deal of time and attention must be given to the color arrangement of the finale, when all the groups will either be massed on the stage together, or defile past the audience. COLOR 161 When the pageant designer is able to dye his own materials, he will work on his model stage in water-colors, since he may try for any shade or tint he pleases. This is naturally more satisfactory than to be tied to manu- facturers' color scales; nevertheless, the latter now make such a wide range of materials that the advantages of dyeing one's own stuffs are more apparent than real. It is not an easy matter to mix dyes that will correspond to the hues of the paint-box ; consequently, unless the director has had a good deal of experience, he will find the first method easier. On the professional stage the traditional plan of color arrangement is to put all the vivid reds in front, gradually toning the various colors down to neutral tints at the extreme rear of the stage. 1 The theory is that reds will show through any other colors; hence, if at the rear, they will overshadow or kill the less brilliant colors in front. In a general sense, the same thing is true out doors. Bright colors appear nearer the audience than dull hues. 2 If scattered about recklessly the brilliant hues give a spotty effect. The figures or groups in sunlight should wear light tints, unless a strong note is needed for a particular purpose, while the groups in shadow should wear dark shades to blend with the background. Reference has already been made to a key or foundation color governing not only each episode but forming a basis for the whole color scheme. A few illustrations of scales 1 //i Machinerie TM&trale: Trues el Decors, by George Moynet, Paris; chapter on IM Mise en Scene. 1 Nevertheless, compare the contrary statement of Raskin, op. cil., p. i63. 162 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY which have been worked out experimentally may be of value. As a safe rule, it is well to work either in a range of cool tints, or the reverse, a warm and rich one. 1 Let it be supposed that the director has to plan for a series of interludes separated one from the other by historical epi- sodes. In his interludes he is usually not tied to historical costume, so that he is free to make his plan on a scheme of pure colors. The following scale represents strong effects: ruby-red, deep orange, yellow, yellow-green, blue-green, blue-violet, red-violet. Here are seven colors forming a harmonious scale which may serve as the foundation plan for the whole. If the painter's scale of complementaries is consulted, 2 it will be noted that the first three are comple- mentary to the last three that is, the complement of ruby-red is blue-green, and so on, while yellow-green, the central color of the scale, has as its complement ruby-red. Those facts control omissions from the scale, since it would not usually be advisable to omit one key color without also omitting its complementary. In like manner, prin- cipal combinations within the scale are governed by the theory of complementaries. A scale giving somewhat different effects would be: ruby-red, red-orange, orange- yellow, yellow-green, blue-green, blue, and violet. Again, the scale is formed by three colors with a central color having as its complementary the first member of the scale, followed hi order by the three complementaries of the first colors named. The same rule about complementaries applies once more to omissions and combinations within 1 Walter Crane, Line and Form, p. 267. 2 On page i5o. COLOR 163 the scale. 1 It is, perhaps, as well to add that the scale may begin at either end or with any color, provided the order within the scale is not changed. If the scale is shortened, one may start at either end, and cut off one or more colors there, not in the middle or at haphazard. With each color dropped will go its complementary. In determining what proportions of colors to choose from a given scale, the designer is influenced by the emotional effect he desires to produce. Both of the scales cited begin with warm colors and range through to cold. In each case, however, the warm color, if used in equal quantities, will overbalance the others. In both these scales the true dominating note happened to be the blue-green, and the warm colors were used chiefly to enhance the brilliancy of the colder portion. Again, for individual scenes, each of the colors in a scale may be used alone, variety and beauty of effect being obtained by gradations of its nu- merous tints and shades. The latter method is a safe one for the inexperienced, while in many cases where simplicity or uniformity of tone is aimed at, it is requisite. So far, it will have been noted, the color scales referred to as illustrations have consisted entirely of the full colors or else mixtures of primaries. There now comes in the question of variants caused by mixing positive and neutral colors with the scale. And as before, the safest method is to rely upon the stage model. A few suggestions, how- ever, may serve as starting points. The wines or plum- 1 These scales were chosen for illustration because they combine within themselves a harmonious relation of warm colors to the cold colors of an outdoor background. They are the result of experiment rather than of theory. 164 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY colored shades will go between ruby-red and emerald-green; brown in all its shades and tints between red-orange, orange, and orange-yellow on the one hand, and blue-green, blue, and blue-violet on the other; olive, between yellow and violet; grays, between violet, blue- violet, and blue on one side, and yellow, yellow-orange, and orange on the other. The browns are closely related to red-orange, orange, and orange-yellow; the grays, to violet, blue-violet, and blue. The positive colors are simply modifications of the color scales cited and their place in the scale is determined by the color which predominates. Neutral colors may stand between their elements (the colors which compose them) without any intermediary. The matter can best be seen by forming a color scale modified by positives: deep wine, orange-brown, light olive, apple-green, gray-green, blue- violet-gray, red-violet-gray. This corresponds to the first scale on page 162. It is the same scale darkened or toned down from the full colors of the original. It may gradually be deepened to any series of shades desired, until all the colors are reduced to black. The other scale, darkened in the same way, becomes: deep wine, orange-brown, yellow- brown, light olive, gray-blue-green, light blue-gray, violet- gray. This too may be darkened at will. In the same way, the corresponding tints may replace the darker shades in the two scales. The point which it is desired to empha- size is that the two painter's scales give a good basis for unlimited experiment, while they at the same time introduce a skeleton group of harmonious colors on which to build. Color contrasts as employed in pageantry may be described as conscious or deliberate interruption of a harmonious scale. COLOR 165 The color scales already discussed illustrate what is meant by a harmonious plan throughout the pageant, and suggest, at least, ways to attain it. Color contrasts aim primarily at emphasis, at striking an effect which arrests the eye and compels attention. Contrast is therefore a dramatic way of using color, a challenge flung at the audience. There may be present in any given color scale the most violent contrasts, but if the scale has been rightly proportioned, the colors in between serve as intermediaries, leading the eye imperceptibly to the contrasting hue with no emotional shock. It is the danger of getting the emo- tional shocks in the wrong place, or at the wrong moment, that makes the difficulty of moving brightly clad groups about the stage. It is therefore true that a low-toned harmony is easier to obtain and to keep in movement than a stronger and richer one. Errors caused by contrasting or discordant colors coming together unexpectedly are less obvious in the former. A color harmony has for its first object the production of a feeling of beauty; color con- trast aims at arousing or stimulating the audience. This is the principle then that guides the pageant designer in planning for contrasts. He should take care to know why he uses a color contrast, as otherwise he may seriously interfere with the mood of his scene. Finally, the pageant director finds his color plan some- what modified and controlled by the general tones of the historical costumes. In dealing with interludes, as has been said, he is on safe ground in carrying out his plan in any way he wishes, but to fit the historical episodes into a comprehensive scheme is not so easy. On the other hand, 166 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY it is true that many historical periods have a definite key color represented in their costumes, and by choosing the right tint or shade and consulting his color scales much may be done. For example, Indians suggest browns, warm in tone, and their barbaric love of finery permits color contrasts of vivid hues. Upon referring back to his scale containing browns, he discovers on one side a deep wine- red; here is the color for head-gear and accessories. On the other side of the scale is light olive, and next to that a gray-blue-green. These colors, therefore, may be used, as well as the wine-red, in blankets and garments as key colors. The whole can be lightened by barbaric splashes of bright hues, if the thing is done with judgment. It may be objected that Indians do not necessarily wear these colors or wear a greater variety. In reply all that can be said is that a pageant is a picture, not a photograph; and that the colors selected do no actual violence to what is probable. The glaring crudity of some of the attempts to reproduce Indian costumes is certainly not a standard to imitate. In the seventeenth century the men's costumes suggest silver and brown the latter darker than the browns of the Indians. The silver is of course the armor which was worn over the leather jerkins. The women of this period are dressed in grays and neutral colors, with an occasional sharp contrast in the color of apron or petticoat. It is the dull homespuns of early pioneer days that give the key, together with the silver and brown. Again the color scale is consulted. In light blue-gray is found the silver, a normal part of the scale; dark gray-blue-green and violet- COLOR 167 gray will serve for the women's dresses. White caps and neck ruches give one note of contrast; various shades and tints of wine or red and olive-green in the aprons help to lighten the sombre skirts, and, last of all, occasional aprons of pure blue and violet will complete the desired contrasts. Should a colonial governor appear, a central note of con- trast might be struck by dressing him in black and gold, with a cloak lined with a gold-orange. If these colors are repeated in the interlude scales, the historic episode will use darker shades and lower tones. The eighteenth century offers perhaps more difficulties. In the first place, as these costumes are costly, it is gen- erally necessary to rent them from a theatrical costumier. It is not always possible to obtain them in groups of colors, or rather in desirable colors. However, if the director finds that he can be supplied with a reasonable assortment, he can continue to follow his definite plan. The period is now one of individuality in dressing, further complicated by soldiers in brilliant uniforms whose colors may in no way be altered. He will need to make his color scale a gorgeous one, not only to allow scope for the necessary variety of the period, but as a contrast to the more sombre clothes of the nineteenth century to follow. His scale may be some variation of that on page i5o, with a choice of key colors which harmonize with the whole pageant plan. Contrasts will be found in a liberal use of white and in the scarlet of the English uniforms and the blue and buff of the continentals. He has so much contrast here and contrast so difficult to manage that his other colors should conform rigorously to a harmonious scale; otherwise his 168 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY stage will represent hopeless confusion. He will need plenty of white to isolate his uniforms from the key colors, as well as neutrals to soften the contrasts. What has been said about color so far relates mainly to its handling in masses on the pageant stage. Before enter- ing into its treatment in detail, it is necessary to remind the producer that his color plan is really a part of the plot. It is expressive of the author's ideas, not only in the historical episodes but in the interludes as well. His plan must take ah 1 of these complex factors into account. Several references have been made to color as an interpreter of the mood of a scene. It can serve equally to help carry the author's meaning. Thus the color scales of the in- terludes depend upon what it is that the interludes are intended to express. Particularly when the interludes include group dancing is the interpretive function of color important. A harmonious picture is of no value unless it correctly represents the author's meaning throughout. The point is emphasized because it is too often the case that the color plan is not inspired by any other thought than that of securing beauty of effect of dazzling the audience perhaps by its brilliancy. Under these circumstances there is a danger of making the color plan at variance with the spirit of the scenes. The general color plan is a more or less abstract thing. How it is necessary to modify it to conform to the neces- sities of historical costuming has already been mentioned. It is equally true that the interludes introduce factors which must be considered. Suppose, by way of illustra- tion, that in a certain interlude there is a group of water COLOR 169 spirits. The fact that they are water spirits limits their treatment to greens and blues of special shades and tints which depend again on whether they are spirits of the sea or of inland waters. Therefore their place in the color scale has to be determined, so that they can harmo- nize with the other groups. Again, mountain spirits are more or less limited to purples, deep blues, and a few grays; wood nymphs, to greens and browns, with sometimes splashes of the autumn colorings. In the same way, flower spirits, because of the brightness of their hues, need to be managed with discretion if they are not to disturb the general color plan. An important matter in the detailed study of color is the use of two or more shades or tints in the same cos- tumes. There ought not to be a sharp dividing line be- tween the two, unless there is a reason for a contrast; rather let the two gradually melt one into the other. When it comes to a question of using two different hues in the same costume, either as a parti-colored garment, or as a color worn over another color, the design needs especial care. The mixtures are based upon the general color scale - that is, the hues are selected from it. One color must dominate, or rather the proportion should not be half and half, but nearer one third and two thirds. The dominating hue is the key color of the scene. The blends may be either of complementaries chosen from the painter's scale or of colors lying next each other in that scale of contrasts; as, violet and a slightly yellowish green, or red and red- orange, or yellow and blue, to choose three arbitrary examples. Last of all, costumes in which the cold colors 170 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY predominate will need less of the warm complementary and contrasting color than when the case is reversed. The tendency of the warm colors to use up the whole effect must never be lost sight of in placing them with cold colors. The only way to make certain of the result is to return again and again to the model stage. The indoor stage presents an entirely different set of factors to the color designer. It is no longer a question of keeping his effects in harmony with his background, for he can control the latter absolutely. The possible range is, therefore, greater. On the other hand, his stage is smaller certainly as regards depth, and probably as regards width also. His audience will be closer to his groups and a good deal of the softening due to a far per- spective will be lost. Last of all, the problem of lighting becomes an intimate part of the color problem. His stage model has now to be studied by artificial light, approxi- mating as closely as possible the quality of light actually to be used. The model must also be h'ghted from the same angle, for shadows are important. All these things require more experience than is needed for producing in the open air. Since the pageant stage, even when indoors, ought not to imitate that of a theatre, formal scenery is abandoned. In its place are hangings, or at most a conventionalized suggestion of architecture with a large proportion of drap- eries. The purpose of the draperies is to give a back- ground which shall always be in harmony with the color masses of the groups. Light tints of neutral colors blue- grays, gray-greens, and gray-browns are best. If the COLOR 171 hangings are too dark they absorb too much light. Red and violet hangings eat up the colors placed in front of them; orange fatigues the eye, when it does nothing worse. Cream-white is best for the architectural details, as it most readily takes the tones of artificial light. If many of the scenes are supposed to pass outdoors, the light-toned neutral greens are most satisfactory. When the choice rests upon other considerations, grays and blues will be found good. Sometimes there is a patriotic desire to hang a large flag in the centre of the background. Unfor- tunately, though the motive may be a worthy one, its result is to destroy any harmony in the color plan. Red, white, and blue are too violent and arresting notes to blend with anything else. Keep the flags about the building, but off the stage, until the episodes in which they belong appear. The color scales used outdoors apply to indoor work, although the color plan will be based on tints or shades, rather than on full colors. So much depends on the quality of the artificial light available and its intensity that no precise instructions can be given. The plan is drawn, however, exactly as already described for outdoors and then compared with its effect when lighted. The neutral colors, it is well to remember, have a tendency to look alike, while the darker shades all merge toward black. Gradations are not as fine, but contrasts are softened. During the interludes, various effects may be gained by the use of colored lights, which are usually electric arcs filtered through colored gelatines. These effects will be crude if not properly handled. Another danger is that 172 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY colored light will kill certain of the costumes. The follow- ing tables, 1 therefore, of the result of putting colored lights on colored materials will be found useful. Red light: on black, produces a purplish-black; on red, deepens the color; on orange, the latter becomes red- orange; on yellow, orange; on green, different effects according to the tone of the green if the green is a dark shade, it produces a red-black, and if a light tint a reddish gray; on blue, violet; and on violet, deep purple. Orange light: on black yields a deep brown; on red, scarlet; on yellow, yellow-orange; on green, if it is a dark shade, a rusty green, if it is a light tint, a yellow-green; on blue, an orange-gray, if the blue is light, a dull gray, if it is a deep blue; on indigo, a dark brown; on violet, a red-brown. Yellow light: on black gives a yellow-olive; on red, orange; on orange, yellow-orange; on green, yellow-green; on blue, yellow-green if the blue is light, green-slate if the blue is deep; on indigo, orange-yellow; and on violet, yellow-brown. Green light: on black makes a green-brown; on red, brown; on orange, a faint yellow with a green tinge; on yellow, brilliant yellow-green; on blue, green intense or the reverse, according to the tint or shade of the blue; on indigo, dull green; on violet, bluish green-brown. Blue light: on black, gives a blue-black; on red, violet; on orange, brown with a pale tint of violet; on yellow, green; on green, blue-green; on indigo, deep blue-indigo; and on violet, dark blue-violet. 1 From The Principles of Harmony and Contrast of Colors, by M. Z. Chevreul, translated by Charles Martel; 3d ed., i85g. COLOR 173 Violet light: on black, yields black with a faint violet tinge; on red, red- violet-purple; on orange, light red; on yellow, brown with a pale tint of red; on green, light purple; on blue, clear blue- violet; and on indigo, deep indigo-violet. It is clear from these tables that startling transforma- tions, not to say discords, may follow the careless use of colored lights on a group dressed in varied hues. Further- more, these tables are accurate only within certain limits. Different materials take light in different ways, and the final result cannot be predicted in any given case without experiment. Alternating current arc lamps have a large proportion of violet rays in the beam of light, whereas the light from direct current lamps is reasonably white. If incandescent electric lamps are used in conjunction with the colored "spots" and "floods," still other conditions enter which modify the conclusions arrived at in the tables. Color lighting, therefore, should be used with discretion and only for definite purposes which experiment has shown to be satisfactory. It must form an integral part of the whole color plan and not at any time be manipulated so as to come into collision with this. On an indoor stage color grouping may be used in various ways to convey symbolic or statuesque effects, as well as its more usual function in costuming. An outdoor pageant of the historical type aims at an illusion of realism in the episodes. On an artificially lighted stage, however, it may be advisable in the case of certain mediaeval masques or Greek festivals to abandon realism and rely instead on a purely decorative treatment. Such a method lends itself 174 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY to tableaux, scenes in pantomime, and to the interlude. For example, in a series of mediaeval tableaux the decora- tive rather than realistic use of color gives the best result. The designer, say, wishes to make his scenes correspond in effect to old tapestries. He will adopt a soft-toned color scale, paying particular attention to quiet shades of old blues, grays, reds, greens, and violets. The background will suggest the texture of tapestry, of a color harmonizing with the figures in the foreground. In this case the background is the key color, and the groups, an ascending or descending scale from it. 1 Or again, if it is a Greek festival, a series of friezes done to resemble bas-relief may be worked out by means of color and lighting. The background in this case is a dead-white rather bluish in tone. The groups are all massed as close to it as possible in straight lines, the figures against the back in white and gray, those in front in white, with or without touches of primary hues in the patterns on the garments. 2 Greek vase paintings suggest further color plans for bas-relief tableaux, as do Pompeian wall-paintings. Thus for Greek scenes the background may be either white, black, terra- cotta, or scarlet, according to whether the eifect desired is that of statuary, pottery, or Roman frescoes. The ob- ject of decorative coloring is to simplify the effect of modelling, to use flat tints and shades in short, to obtain an impression of a wall hung with tapestry, or of a sculp- tured frieze in low-relief, or even that of a fresco itself. 1 The scale ascends, as the term is used here, when it goes toward red, descends when it goes toward violet. 1 The Greeks often painted their white marble statuary in brilliant colors^ COLOR 175 A simple scale containing only a few colors is essential to secure the appearance of the figures as being hi a single plane, or only slightly detached from it. Nor are the color suggestions of the preceding paragraph limited to tableaux. The use of statuesque groups is permissible in conjunction with a slow dignified solo dance, or where only two or three figures carry on the action. Obviously, however, these decorative groupings will not serve for scenes of quick movement. The use of color in the indoor pageant has the same function as in the outdoor, namely, to help in the inter- pretation of the author's idea and to give tone and atmos- phere to the individual scenes. The problems are alike in essence whether the stage is roofed or open to the sky, but under the former conditions the details are more complex, because of the lighting problem and the nearness of the audience. Therefore the final words of this chapter are the same as those with which it began: let the designer go back to experiments with his model stage again and yet again until he is satisfied that his final plan is the best of which he is capable. CHAPTER VIII COSTUME AND SETTING /COSTUME design puts into practical effect the color V_J scheme of the pageant or dramatic representation, while if there is historical material to deal with, it is chiefly through the design and selection of the costumes that an illusion of other times or other manners is ob- tained. 1 Costume is the most important of the many details surrounding the production of a spectacle, and one, unfortunately, which requires something more than ama- teur skill for its adequate treatment. Too often the whole question is disposed of by securing the help of a theatrical costumier, a plan which is artistically unsatisfactory. The stock costumes are seldom historically accurate, nor obtain- able in the desired color harmonies. To hire costumes is almost as costly as to make them. On the other hand, home-made costumes of faulty design are even less satis- factory than the products of the theatrical costumier. In choosing historical costumes the designer will seek for sources of inspiration in the work of artists contem- 1 That modern theories of color values in dramatic costuming do not really differ in essence from those long held in the theatre may be seen by reference to Pougin's Dictionnaire du Theatre under Costume: "The colors must blend successfully one with another in order that all unpleasant shocks to the eye may be avoided. . . . The costumes of the supernumeraries should not nullify those of the important characters. All the tints and shades should harmonize with the setting, and the colors be so chosen that artificial light will neither cause discord nor deaden the effect." COSTUME AND SETTING 177 porary with the period in question. The encyclopaedias of costume and the books on this subject are too often disappointing. The plates are not always faithful de- lineations of actual costumes, but are more frequently adaptations by artists whose designs are influenced by recent fashions. Fortunately it is possible at the present day to procure inexpensive reproductions as well as actual photographs of pictures, statuary, and the articles in famous museums, so that a designer may go to the foun- tain head for his ideas. Thus he is practically independent of the text-books. If he wishes to learn, for example, about Greek costumes, he may turn directly to photographs of statues and vase paintings. Likewise, such collections as the Perry pictures have placed at the designer's disposal the masterpieces of the artists of all ages. It is of course true that original research takes more time and is less convenient than referring to a text-book. Further, research demands a general knowledge of his- toric costume in order that the selections may be made with judgment. Nevertheless the results are worth the extra labor. Only the more recent books on costume have been at all discriminating in the choice of sources for their contents, hence the designer can never be certain in any particular case that the compiler has exercised due care. For this reason the costume bibliography to this chapter has been strictly limited to important and readily access- ible books, but even these are to be checked, when used, by references to primary sources. The costume director will need the assistance of one or more persons with a knowledge of drawing to make the 178 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY numerous sketches required. In a large production this is too burdensome a task for one artist. In every com- munity there are usually several people who are quite competent to carry out the producer's ideas once they understand what is wanted. Their possible lack of experi- ence in costume design must be supplemented by the producer's researches. Experts in the field of costume design command large salaries which are beyond the resources of any but elaborate pageant organizations. Nevertheless, artistic and appropriate costuming is pos- sible without a disproportionate outlay, if the producer is properly equipped to guide his assistants. His sugges- tions include the practical and the artistic. Under the practical comes the question of materials, since these are limited in range by the money available, while under the artistic is included the selection and creation of the design. The total sum allotted for costuming must be divided among the various episodes, the proportion being based upon the number of performers and the elaborateness of the individual scenes. A general estimate is made for each scene. Obviously, certain costumes for the important characters will cost more than others, just as some scenes will be more expensive than others. The estimate is based, therefore, on the number and nature of the costumes re- quired, the cost of the raw materials, and on the charges for making them up. Materials are the heaviest item of expense. They should, therefore, be purchased in the whole piece. If this is done, it is possible to obtain whole- sale rates, or at least a reduction from the average price per yard. Again, it is a mistake to assume that the u COSTUME AND SETTING 179 effectiveness of costumes depends upon rich silks and rare velvets. As a matter of fact the cheaper materials are better. For ordinary heavy cloths, velvets, silks, and the like, substitute canton flannel and cambrics. The cheapest grade of cheese-cloth is soft and hangs well. Ordinary net can be used in place of lace, and so on. The canton flannels come in a wide range of colors and are the standard materials for most of the costumes. In the open air canton flannel appears to have splendid body and opaqueness, while indoors it takes artificial light well. For mediaeval costumes, in particular, it cannot be un- proved upon. Costumes of stiff materials may be made from burlap. This can be stencilled or painted to imitate brocades, or embroidery, and it will keep its shape. An- other rather expensive material for brocades is "tapestra," which is obtained from upholsterers. It costs several times as much as burlap, but is comparatively inexpensive where a rich effect is essential. Chintzes are useful for eighteenth-century dresses. Cotton crepe is another good material for soft and clinging gowns. It is preferable to cheese-cloth in smaller productions, where the performers are close to the spec- tators, as it has a richer appearance. It comes in thin grades, in a wide range of colors, and is inexpensive. For Indian costumes either a wool or cotton "ratteen" will closely resemble buckskin at a little distance. Bead work and other barbaric trimming may be painted on by oil- colors. The imitation of armor usually gives amateurs a lot of trouble, but it can be made quite simply. Plain burlap 180 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY is the foundation. When this has been cut out into the required shape, it is painted with aluminum powder mixed with thin hot glue. Chain mail is made of coarse knitted or crocheted goods, likewise painted with aluminum pow- der. The crowns of old derby hats with the brims cut away make excellent and convincing helmets, after they have been silvered with aluminum paint. 1 Helmets of unusual shapes are made of cardboard. There are innumerable materials of all kinds which are capable of making artistic and inexpensive costumes; only a few of the easiest obtainable have been mentioned. A little patience in prowling about in well-stocked shops will reveal many others. If it is possible to limit pur- chases to a few standard materials, the total cost will be much less. Scattered buying of a number of different materials is not good economy. To turn now to the question of design, the best method to follow is that described by modern costumiers as draw- ing the silhouette. Broadly speaking, the silhouette is the outline of the costume, its shadow. It is seen without detail, but only in line and mass. Correctness of outline is the first essential. By the use of the silhouette accurate proportion is obtained, and the whole costume is designed as a unit in one broad sweep, instead of being built up from a host of more or less important details. Thus, if a figure wearing a cape is wanted, do not draw first the cape and then fit the rest of the costume design to it. 1 Chain armor and metal scales may also be made by painting direct on cloth. Brass rings and washers sewed to a cloth foundation give a realis- tic effect of chain mail at close range, but a costume made in this way is too heavy to wear with comfort. COSTUME AND SETTING 181 Strike at once a complete silhouette of a figure in a cape, leaving the analysis of the detail for later consideration. The silhouette is particularly useful in designing his- torical costumes, for it represents most accurately the characteristics of the costume of each period. It is the very spirit of the design. Costume outlines not only vary from century to century, but from generation to genera- tion. Only by adhering absolutely to the silhouette of a period can the spirit of a costume be reproduced with accuracy. For example, if in designing a lady's dress of the last half of the eighteenth century, an artist searching for details were to add a head-dress from the first half of the century, he would spoil his outline, whereas if he had conceived the costume from the beginning as a period sil- houette, its general form would have been so well fixed in his mind that he would not permit it to be altered. And yet errors of this kind are easily made when an artist turns over the pages of an old book and picks a ruff here and a head-dress there, and combines them all into one design. Each costume, excluding duplicates, should first be sketched in silhouette, and labelled with the scene and the name of the character. These outlines are of great value to the producer in arranging his grouping. They give him a clear idea of the lines and masses of each scene. Cer- tain costumes are effective if massed closely together; others should be spaced so that the individual silhouettes are not merged in the outline of the group. The burghers of New Amsterdam, with their broad, padded breeches, ought not to be placed so the outlines of their costumes are lost, while the severe lines and folds of monks' gowns 182 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY may give the best result if the group is treated as a unit. It is only after all the silhouettes have been determined upon that the designer takes up the question of the details of his costumes. Here at the outset the designer will find himself con- fronted by the necessity of deciding how far accuracy of detail is essential in historical costumes. There are two theories on this subject: one urges minute correctness down to the uttermost button, and the other points out that details tend to vanish according to the number of per- formers used and their distance from the audience. The latter theory holds that accuracy of outline, plus a color scheme which does no actual historical violence to the design, are sufficient. From an educational standpoint, if costumes are to be seen near to, the more accuracy the better. On the other hand, literal accuracy in large groups representing a number of types in a by-gone age is prob- ably impossible. The data is lacking. At best many of the costumes will represent only an approximation, with perhaps, if the period is not too remote, some quite accurate and still others quite wrong, if we only knew it. In other words, literal accuracy of detail is something of a will-o'-the-wisp, growing fainter and fainter with each century that we pursue it backwards. Still another point is worth mentioning. To insist upon a lot of detail makes the cost of the costumes mount rapidly. If in a certain period gentlemen wore richly carved belt buckles or in- laid sword-hilts, these things cannot easily be imitated. The point is, will the audience see the carving or the inlay work? It is satisfying to the producer to know it COSTUME AND SETTING 183 is there, but hardly worth the trouble and expense if only he and the actor are aware of it. On the other hand, every person in the audience can see the outline of the costume and appreciate its importance. If the silhouette is wrong, the whole costume is wrong, while a plain buckle in place of a carved one will not spoil a correct silhouette. There are some details, such as hats, head-dresses, shoes, and weapons which are an integral portion of the out- line, and these must not be neglected. The others may be reduced to their simplest terms. However detailed a designer wishes to make his cos- tumes later, he will work best in all cases from the pre- liminary silhouette. The next step, after the outline, is to work up the water-color design as a practical sketch to be handed over to the maker of the costumes. Here the working directions must be precise, and be accompanied by measurements and samples of all the materials to be used. If the costume is complicated, a rough sketch of the back, or of any separate part likely to be troublesome in the making, should be included. The designer does his thinking in outline, but the maker requires specific in- structions for everything, as well as a certain amount of actual supervision. In small productions the color scheme can best be carried out by dyeing the cheese-cloth or unbleached muslin cos- tumes. This enables the producer to purchase single pieces of goods, instead of putting in an order for a few yards of several different colors. Likewise if he does his own dyeing, he can control absolutely his color combina- tions. On a large scale the plan is not so practical, owing 184 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY to the extra time, labor, and expense involved. The ordinary commercial dyes which are sold in packages at any druggist's may be used. These dyes yield crude colors which seldom approximate what is wanted. The difficulty is overcome by mixing two or more colors in varying proportions until the right shade or tint is secured. A good deal of experiment is necessary, for which a num- ber of small strips of the material are prepared and the dyes tested by dipping these strips one at a time in each mixture. The mixtures must be kept clean and not allowed to get muddy. At first many mixtures will have to be thrown away and the experiment begun afresh, but after a little experience this does not happen so often. The materials must be soaked in clean water and wrung out before dyeing them. If they have been sized with starch or a mineral glaze, it is necessary to boil the sizing out. It is not essential to boil the costumes in the dyes unless permanent colors are desired. For all ordinary purposes dipping the costumes in a cold solution and then allowing them to dry will answer quite well. If weather- worn effects are wanted, do not wring the materials after dipping them. As the colors are not the same dry as wet, this must be taken into account in testing the mixtures. Furthermore, if the costumes are dried in a strong sun- light, they will fade, usually unevenly. Colors may be made to run one into the other by dipping one half the costume in one hue and the other half in another. A dyed costume may be splashed with another dye while still wet, in short the various combinations possible are limited only by the producer's ingenuity. COSTUME AND SETTING 185 Practically all properties, except furniture, can be made, if the producer has at hand a committee willing to work. A carpenter shop, borrowed or rented, is the principal part of the equipment needed. Here spears, swords, bows and arrows, shields, and guns can be made by anyone with a little knowledge of how to use tools. The dimensions are calculated care being taken to get proportions correct and not to make things too heavy and rough sketches of each object are pre- pared. The weapons can be painted with gold, silver, or aluminum paint. Such swords as must be drawn from scabbards are hired, the others are simply wooden shams. For battle scenes, of course, actual weapons are needed - and here the theatrical costumier is the only resource. Again, it is not necessary to make all the properties. A surprising number of them can usually be found in any community, if the committee are enterprising in hunting things up. For example, such things as furniture, spinning wheels, musical instruments, old implements, and so on, are generally forthcoming upon request. Flags, banners, and heraldic devices are simple to make. They must be correct and not be founded on guesswork. Elaborate devices can be stencilled or cut out of material and sewed into position. For mediaeval designs, a manual of heraldry is consulted on all doubtful points. Metal work, such as buckles and similar objects, can be cut out of thin sheets of brass or copper. A pair of tin- smith's shears and two or three files are the principal tools. Rough edges are smoothed away or sharp corners rounded by the files. If very thin metal is used, it may be tacked 186 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY to a wooden backing to increase its solidity. More elabo- rate metal work may be embossed with punched designs, or even enamelled, but here skilled workers are necessary. 1 Wooden shields are sometimes covered with imitation leather having patterns outlined on the surface by brass- headed upholsterer's tacks. If the producer commands the assistance of a manual-training department in some school, there is no limit to the variety of properties which can be designed and made. Although it is not generally advisable for amateurs to attempt to paint elaborate scenery, simple and artistic sets for indoor productions may be made from screens. Any carpenter can make these cheaply. They should be made with reversible hinges, so the panels may be swung in any direction. These scenes should be built as lightly and cheaply as possible. For covering, an unbleached canvas is neatly and smoothly tacked onto each side, front and back. The canvas must be sized to take paint. The sizing is a thin, hot solution of glue, which shrinks the canvas somewhat. The screens are next painted any desired color with kalsomine paint. As each screen has a front and a back, changes of scenery can be effected by simply turning them around. It is necessary only to paint the back of the screens a different color from the front. Again, the separate panels may be of varying colors to carry out any scheme the producer wishes. These screens will make any shape of setting desired, which in turn can be altered at a moment's notice. When used in conjunc- 1 In many English pageants metal work and enamelling was done by local Arts and Crafts societies. 'f- 2 COSTUME AND SETTING 187 tion with draperies an unlimited range of architectural and mterior scenes is possible. It is also an easy matter to stencil designs on the screens, although, as a rule, flat simple tints and shades are to be preferred. For all prac- tical purposes these screens are preferable to even elabo- rate scenery and give most artistic results at a low outlay. For the sake of completeness, the following description of Mr. Craig's patented screens is added. 1 The scene is made up usually of four, six, eight, ten or twelve screens. Each part or leaf of a screen is alike in every particular except breadth, and these parts together form a screen, composed of two, four, six, eight or ten leaves. These leaves fold either way and are monochrome in tint. The height of all these screens is alike. They are self-supporting and are made either of a wooden frame covered with canvas, or of solid wood. Curved enclosures may be made with screens of narrow dimensions; for large rectangular spaces broader-leaved screens are used; and for varied and broken forms all sizes are employed. Sometimes a flat roof is used with these screens; at other times the space above the top line is shown. They may be lighted by using ordinary theatre battens. Certain additions may be made to the scene set with screens, such as a flight of steps, a window, a bridge, a balcony, and of course the necessary furniture, "though great care and reserve must be exercised in making these additions to avoid the ridiculous." 1 It is well to note that Mr. Craig has patented the application of his s\ -trin of screens to scenic decoration. This description is summarized from The Mask, Vol. VII, No. a. May, igif). 138 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY There are two practical advantages in the use of the screen setting: one is the ease with which the scene may be changed or rearranged; the other, the ease with which the setting may be studied in the producer's model of his stage. As Mr. Craig says: "To begin with, the model with which he works is always ready to his hand. He keeps it in his study and is thus able continually to test ideas which come into his head. . . . He has not to wait for the scene painter to bring him a model which, if he does not like, he has to have changed and rechanged; but he has at his disposal a model scene which he can be always changing and arranging, and from which he can derive ideas for the movement of his figures." The screens will stand by themselves without being fastened to the stage or to ropes, rollers, or beams in the "flies." Variety is secured not only through different arrangements of the screens, but by making them of different sizes. They may be thirty feet high or only eight feet; they may have any number of folds, and each fold may be one foot wide or six feet. Three men in three minutes could move or remove a whole scene and, folded flat, each screen would take up but little space. A com- plete change of scene can be obtained merely by rearrang- ing a few screens. The whole mood or tone of a given scene can be altered by varying the lighting. Mr. Craig's own desire appears to be to dispense as far as possible with any coloring on the screens themselves, partly be- cause each screen can thus take on a much wider range of characters than if it were colored. Most of the color- ing is obtained by means of colored lights; and thus there COSTUME AND SETTING 189 is no danger that a scene painted for one light would be robbed of its effect by being seen later under another light. One fact is worth adding: the screens require a flat, not a sloping, stage, if they are to stand, as they should, without support. In conclusion it may be said once more that costumes and properties are satisfactory only when they have been designed in harmony with the whole production. Origi- nality and the avoidance of stereotyped conventions are an essential in these details as in all the others. Stylisa- tion the carrying out of the author's purpose by the production demands a studied plan involving all the elements which compose the finished drama. This at- mosphere is attained by neglecting nothing, or accepting nothing as "good enough" simply because it happens to be the easier way. CHAPTER IX THE DANCE "Sometimes all wound close in a ring, to which as fast they spun As any wheel a turner makes, being tried how it will run, While he is set; and out again, as full of speed they wound, Not one left fast, or breaking hands. A multitude stood round, Delighted with their nimble sport." The Iliad, Bk. XVIII. WTH the revival of interest in the dance in America, several conflicting points of view toward this art have arisen. On the one hand are the advocates of formalized dancing, the dance of the theatre and the traditional ballet. In the eyes of these people dancing is a specialized art which can be carried on only by highly skilled and trained performers. It is a system reduced to rigid rules and carefully planned steps, the whole being linked to the traditions and artificialities of the Italian theatre of two or three centuries ago. Another group are concerned with the dance as a form of physical training, an aim which finds its best expression in the schools of rhythmic gymnastics l and its worst when the dance is reduced to a perfunctory substitute for bodily exer- cises. 2 Still others are interested in the dance as a means to recreation. When so used the dance has returned 1 Cf. the system of Jacques Dalcroze. * Such as gymnasium dancing, having no other object in view than the physical benefit to be derived from the exercise. THE DANCE 191 closely to its early principles, but recreative dancing to- day is almost entirely taken up with reviving old forms instead of with creating new. Finally, there are the so- called innovators, like Isadora Duncan and the revolu- tionists of the Imperial Russian ballet, who beh'eve that the dance not only preserves the forms and traditions of an art that was once flourishing, but that the dance itself is to-day a vital creative art which can be made to grow and develop new forms and even a new technique. Each of these attitudes toward the dance serves a use- ful purpose in its own particular field. There is no desire in this chapter to compare one to the disadvantage of the other, but simply to discuss the dance in its relation to outdoor and indoor drama, at the same time keeping in mind the needs of the amateur. It is obvious that the formal ballet, which is the product of a professional indoor stage l and is besides an art requiring years of training and preparation on the part of the performers, cannot serve community drama and pageantry. Even if trained dancers are at hand, ballet loses its atmosphere and effectiveness in the open air. It was not developed to fill large spaces and far perspectives. Again, those who have studied dancing as a part of their physical education are good material to work with, but the dancing they have been taught is only remotely related to dramatic purposes. They have yet to study the dance as an art. Nearest to dramatic dancing is the recreation ideal. 1 The formal ballet is always recogni/ed by dancing masters as belong- ing to the theatre. A typical definition of ballet, by Coni|>an in the eigh- teenth century, calls it "action thentrale qni se. represenle par la dance, guidee par la mtuique." (Dictionnaire dc danse, Paris, 1788.) 192 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY Dancing as a recreation has made considerable progress of recent years, chiefly under the inspiration of Cecil Sharp. He was the founder of the well-known school of folk-dancing at Stratford-on-Avon, and has planned a similar school for this country. His aim is to revive and keep alive the beautiful old folk and country dances and to persuade people to dance them for the sheer joy of dancing. He has no ulterior motive, such as physical training or educational purpose, but wishes the dances danced for their own sakes. In the end, if interest in the older dances grew, there might come a renaissance of the dance itself, not as a theatrical art, but as a normal element in popular recreation. Thus he has striven particularly to reawaken the interest of men and boys in the morris and sword dances and the competitions which used to surround them. In Elizabethan England men trained all winter long for the morris dance competi- tions held at Whitsuntide. Such dancing contests might well parallel at least the modern interest in athletics. Public and private schools have also taken up recreative dancing as an outlet and training for the play spirit, especially in large cities, where playgrounds are few and restricted in size. The children are taught folk-dances and singing games, and the success of this innovation is attested by the folk-dance festival in Central Park given each year by the public school athletic league for girls. Some ten thousand performers take part in these festivals. 1 1 For a discussion of the value of the dance as a means of social recrea- tion, see Richard Henry Edwards' Popular Amusements, New York, 1916. TIIK Disrrs TIIIU>\M:K Bnrnimi Photo b\ Ira Hill, \. )' THE DANCE 193 The growth of recreative dancing will increasingly pro- vide in the various communities trained groups who are skilled in traditional dances. To this extent these groups will be invaluable to the producer of pageants who is so fortunate as to find such organizations already in existence in the town in which he is to work. Recrea- tive dancing, however, is concerned with only one aspect, the carrying on of tradition; there remains to consider the dance as a creative art. Studied in this way the purpose of the dance is to achieve creative self-expression through the interpretation of ideas by means of rhythmic movement. To distinguish this theory of the dance from any other applications of this art, the term " natural dancing " is used. Natural dancing differs from the classical ballet in that the latter is a professional theatrical art, intended only for the indoor stage, and with entire emphasis upon a conven- tionalized technique. Again, natural dancing achieves physical training only as a by-product and not as an end in itself. It requires, of course, for its highest develop- ment, a perfectly formed body, but this body is used as a medium of expression for the mind. The distinction between natural and recreative dancing has already been made sufficiently clear. To understand the principles of natural dancing it is necessary to glance briefly at the origins of the dance itself. Its close relation to the beginnings of drama is well known. In the earlier Greek festivals from whence This contains a good bibliography of recent books and articles on this subject. 194 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY drama was derived, the dance was pantomimic, that is, the imitation of an action. This is true of the dance of all primitive peoples. 1 The next step in its development might be described as the use of the dance to interpret emotion, particularly the emotions of joy and pleasure as expressed in the worship of the god. The dance has here taken a step away from strictly mimetic forms toward the representation of abstract ideas in terms of emotions. At first each dancer chose his own way to convey his feelings, in other words, created his own technique. Gradually, as the festival and drama evolved and tradition began to accumulate around them, all the elements composing them were more and more formalized. In this way the dance, as associated with the drama, developed a technique of its own composed of certain movements and steps followed by all the performers in concert. It is probable, however, that dancing as indi- vidual self-expression was characteristic of popular festivals long after drama had regularized the art for its own pur- poses. From the dancing at popular festivals were finally evolved folk-dances with their own traditions and steps. The more or less ceremonial character of the dance in all ages has had the inevitable tendency to reduce it to set forms. Most of the folk-dances which have survived to-day give clear evidence of the ceremonial origin, even, as in the case of the sword dances, with their associa- tion with sacrifices. The personal element in the dance was continually sub- 1 For a valuable account of the origins of primitive dances and dramas, see Loomis Havemeyer's The Drama of Savage Peoples. THE DANCE 195 ordinated to the group, and harmony in the group was dependent upon all adhering to a certain order and con- vention in their movements. The individual kept his or her prominence only by a special skill in steps which were similar to those used by the group, as, for example, is seen in the premiere danseuse of the modern ballet. That the dance could be made an individual means of self- expression through new forms seems to have been forgot- ten for a great many centuries. Even such famous solo dancers as Fanny Elsler and Mme. Taglioni depended upon superior skill, charm of personality, and fresh com- binations of formal steps, not upon creating a new tech- nique. Now if the dance is to be recreated as a living art, if it is not simply to exist for the purpose of carrying on tradition, it cannot be bound to the rules of a traditional technique. This does not mean, as some have supposed, that natural dancing has no technique at all. Far from it. Technique is the foundation of all art. Where natural dancing differs from former conceptions of the dance, is that its technique, like that of the great painters, is a living, growing thing, passing continually from one form to another. Just as drama, in all ages, shook off the rules of academic criticism and ranged through an in- finite variety of types, each of which is in the end recog- nizable as drama, so natural dancing is entitled to claim the same freedom. As Miss Isadora Duncan has said, 11 The school of the ballet of to-day, vainly striving against the natural laws of gravitation or the natural will of the individual, and working in discord with its form and 196 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY movement, with the form and movement of nature, pro- duces a sterile [art] which gives no birth to future move- ments, but dies as it is made." l Natural dancing opens the door of self-expression to all those for whom ideas have meaning, and for whom rhythm, grace, and movement can be made a means of this self-expression. It is not limited to specialists who require years of training, while, on the other hand, it allows the great artist a life-time in his or her chosen field. It can be acquired, as music can be acquired, by many who will not be great artists, yet who will be accept- able performers. It demands, of course, enthusiasm and a reasonable measure of skill in responding to rhythm and graceful movement, but not years of drudgery spent in learning difficult artificial poses and steps. Natural dancing is not a substitute for the ballet, or for other types of dancing. The ballet should always maintain its position as a theatrical art, a thing of beauty when in- terpreted by skilled performers. 2 Natural dancing offers a parallel within the reach of a wide number of people who have no wish or intention of making professional dancers of themselves, but who are seeking for an art which will fulfil their needs. Thus natural dancing is 1 In an essay entitled The Drama, accompanying her programs. 2 It is necessary, however, to remember that definitions of the ballet are stated in general terms by the dancing masters, so that from these definitions themselves there appears little distinction between the theory of the ballet and that of natural dancing. Thus Perugini, in The Art of the Ballet, p. a4, defines the ballet as "a series of solo and concerted dances with mimetic actions, accompanied by music and scenic accessories, telling a story." The form of the technique in which the ballet is expressed is not referred to. THE DANCE 197 an amateur art in the best sense of the word, that is, an art which may be followed as a recreation and an inspira- tion by many to whom specialization is out of the ques- tion. As a consequence, natural dancing, when taught with feeling and judgment, is preeminently the art of the dance best suited for community drama and pa- geantry. % It is in this aspect that the subject will be treated in this chapter. Fundamentally the dance, while it is also an art in itself, when used in connection with drama and pageantry belongs to one of the underlying principles of staging, namely, movement. Hence the dance is never conceived as a separate or added part of the production, but is an organic element in the whole production. It is closely related either to the idea or to the plot or to both. The production is not halted to allow a soloist or a group to dance, but the dance occurs because it is needed at that point. Its need is governed by the fact that the dance is emotional, like music, and its interpretive value con- sists in its power to convey emotions to the minds of the audience. These emotions are transferred through the beauty of their appeal as expressed in the dance. Beauty alone is not the object of the dance, but its purpose is sought in the ideas which it renders in beautiful forms. The producer's first object is to impress upon his per- formers the feeling for dramatic movement of which the dance is one specific example. They must understand the value of movement as a primary factor in dramatic art before they can acquire any appreciation of how the individual may contribute his or her share to the total 198 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY result. Every dramatic spectacle has a rhythm of its own which corresponds to the mood or tone in which the whole is conceived. All the great mass movements, such as the dances and shiftings of the groups, and even such details as the tempo in which various scenes are played, harmonize with this rhythm. No movements, even those of a solo dance, can be chosen without regard to the basic rhythm. This does not imply, as might be imagined, that the rhythm of a production means that the per- formance is set at an even pace throughout, such a misconception would end in monotony. The rhythm now accelerates, now retards, now swells toward a climax, or falls away, and yet at the same time it goes steadily forward, and its variations are all parts of one movement. With this principle in mind, the dance might be defined as that portion of the spectacle in which for a particular reason the emphasis is shifted to pure movement. This is not to say that color and sound (music) do not play their parts, but they are subordinate to the dance itself. For the moment the burden of the performance is on motion and hence the motion must have purpose, other- wise it is simply an interruption. The term "dance in- terlude" is in one sense unfortunate, for it seems to imply a pause, instead of meaning, as it really does, a change in the method of telling the dramatic story. The dance, as a function of drama, falls into three general classifications: the plot dance, the illustrative dance, and the dance interlude. These three divisions will be considered in the order named. The plot dance is a dance essential to the dramatic THE DANCE 199 action of the story. It is a necessary part of the scene or episode, and could not be omitted without destroying the continuity of the incidents. For example, the second scene of the authors' pageant drama The Magic of the Hills ended with the attempted capture of the Indian princess by the two evil brothers of her lover. At the moment they were about to carry her off, the Fog Wraiths descended from the hill-tops and rescued her by hiding her from the brothers' sight. The Fog Wraiths were a group of dancers whose movements were symbolic of the slow and billowy oncoming of mist. They gradually surrounded the princess and she disappeared, while the brothers were left bewildered. This dance was a dramatic element of the plot, a part of the action. In the dance dramas of the Russian ballet, the majority of the dances are plot dances, as is also true of Reinhardt's production of Sumurtin. Le Dieu Bleu has a striking plot dance. The scene is by a lotus pool in India. A maiden whose lover has been carried off by the priests is lying forlorn by the pool. Horrible monsters appear from a cave and threaten her. Then the lotus flower opens and the Blue God steps forth. In a long solo dance he subdues and drives away the monsters one by one. 1 The illustrative dance may be used either to depict the manners and customs of a particular period or nationality, or as a symbolic dance to enhance the poetic value of a scene. If the producer had a scene representing May Day revels in Elizabethan England, he would include a 1 For descriptions and plots of the Hussion dance dramas, see particularly Thamar and Pelrvuchka. 200 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY morris or a May-pole dance, or any one of the other folk- dances appropriate to the occasion. In like manner the atmospheric illusion of a colonial wedding would be vivified by the introduction of a minuet. The illustrative dance should not seem to the audience to be dragged in without reason. The scene must be so devised that the dance appears a natural part of it, as spontaneous a hap- pening as the other events. Therefore a long program of several illustrative dances following one another in the same scene is to be avoided. It is not advisable, in portraying May Day revels, for instance, to show a great many folk-dances. The symbolic illustrative dance is an original interpre- tive dance which aims to bring out the poetic meaning of a scene. It is not a folk-dance or in any way illustra- tive of manners or customs. To take an instance, imagine a scene in which primitive people are shown kindling fire by rubbing sticks together. The Spirit of Fire might suddenly appear to them personified in the figure of a solo dancer. This dance would be illustrative of primi- tive people's fear and awe of the nature forces and of their tendency to personify their conceptions. Such a dance need not be limited to scenes of primitive life, but is equally applicable, say, to an episode based on modern industrialism. The Spirit of Steam or of Electricity could be represented as dominating and directing the modern works of man. There is, of course, no limit to the im- aginative use that may be made of the illustrative dance. In theory symbolic dancing bears the same relation to the art of the dance that lyric poetry does to language. THE DANCE 201 It is a way of expressing ideas through an ordered pattern of beauty, and hence may have the same emotional quali- ties that lyrics possess. Thus a symbolic dance in a drama need not always be planned so as to carry the action for- ward; it may also be composed to be descriptive of the mood which the drama has at that point reached. In its descriptive form the symbolic dance may simply parallel an action which has already had more concrete illustration in the preceding scene. The dance interlude is employed in those portions of the^ dramatic action which may be given an allegorical leaning or other independent treatment. It may include anything from a single personified figure to a complete dance drama parallel to the main story. The true dance interlude is complementary to the principal action, a poetic interpretation of it, and not, as has been said, a mere interruption for the sake of variety and change. It can be used to emphasize certain ideas which the real- istic episodes have portrayed literally. Thus in a national pageant of America designed to show the welding together of many nations into one, the dance interludes between the episodes could each be made a characteristic festival of a particular country. An episode dealing with the coming of the French settlers may be followed by a dance interlude representing the merry-making of the French peasants at the close of the vintage season. The inter- lude would be constructed to follow as closely as may be actual festival customs, the peasants dancing in pro- cession to the vineyards, with the largest bunch of grapes borne aloft in triumph by the leaders, followed by a 202 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY celebration of the harvest in pantomimic dance and song. The sum of these various festivals treated as interludes would interpret for the audience the national spirit and customs contributed by each nation to the making of America. An example of an allegory re-appearing at intervals throughout a performance is found in the authors' Pa- geant of Elizabeth. The purpose of the interludes was to illustrate the growth of the city. A figure, veiled at first, was shown, inchoate and formless, since the city had not yet come into being. About this figure there was a dance of Indians and nature spirits, who were unconscious of the figure's presence. After each episode which covered the lapse of years, the figure stood forth more and more clearly, until in the final interlude it became the personi- fication of the city of the present day, no longer veiled. The figure was now surrounded by allegorical personages representing art, science, education, commerce, and civic unity. The interludes were in this way linked together in meaning, and this meaning was at the same time parallel to the idea expressed by the whole pageant. Finally, the dance interludes may together form a complete dance drama embodying a plot from local legend or folk-lore. This is the most difficult type to create, because of the sustained pantomime required and the skill needed to construct and rehearse an intricate series of plot dances. Excellent models as far as the structural plans go are to be found in the stories of the Russian mimo-dance dramas of Leon Bakst and his fol- lowers. It must be remembered that these Russian dance THE DANCE 203 dramas are intended for the theatre and for professional performers, but the story outlines are good examples of the kind of plot that can be successfully treated in this way. Many of these are melodramatic, are keyed in a tone of extravagant violence, and yet they are valu- able for analytic purposes because of the skill with which they are constructed. No better way to study the telling of a dramatic story through emphasis upon movement can be found. They are far superior for this purpose to the rather insipid stories of the old-fashioned ballets, in which the plot was the merest thread of an excuse for the dancing. In the Russian ballets the dancing is the plot and cannot be separated. For American producers Indian folk-lore will be found full of possible themes and subject-matter for dance dramas. Our own folk-lore is as rich in poetry and color, in vigor of action and all dramatic qualities, as the folk- tales of Russia or other European countries. The field is much neglected. We seldom see our Indians in any but sentimental stories unlike their own. Rut if Indians are unsuitable for any particular case, Celtic myths, English fairies, Arthur and his knights, Robin Hood, and a host of familiar friends remain. Practically all of the world's great stories can be retold once more in dance dramas, and the producer has before him an unlimited field in which to work. Dance dramas should be planned to be played on a large scale, utilizing all the available resources of space, mass, and color, as well as an infinite variety of move- ment. Costuming here displays the widest range of the 204 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY designer's fancy and imagination. There are no restric- tions, save those imposed by art, upon the appeal to the spectator's eye. Emotional values are given full sway. The dance drama is pure drama, unhampered by dialogue or the personalities of the actors. Its words are found in music, while its strong and elemental passions are inter- preted by sheer color and movement. It is not easy to produce with amateurs, save after long and laborious preparation, but it is possible, if time allows. Out of dance drama will be evolved one of the dramatic types of the future. To turn to the practical problem of constructing dances for dramatic spectacles, we find that the principles are closely akin to the building of any dramatic scene. Here the producer is working with movement as his main ele- ment, but with a kind of movement which demands an accompaniment of sound. Hence the dance and music directors have to work hand in hand. From the written text of the spectacle, as prepared by the author, are derived the ideas and plot conceptions of the dances, although these are usually found to exist only in vague and general terms. The problem is to build dances which shall correctly interpret the spirit of the author's mean- ing. The dance director decides first of all upon his general impression of the dance, its mood, climax, rhythm, tempo, the contrast required, and the time necessary to perform it. This he lays before the music director for his advice and criticism. The number of measures needed for entrances and exits is a practical matter not to be over- THE DANCE 205 looked in making the preliminary plans. The size of the stage, the number of performers, and the position of the entrances and exits are all taken into consideration. In constructing dances allowances must be made for the view- points of both dance director and musician; either must be prepared to compromise a little in order to reach a complete understanding. To secure the best results the dance and the music must form a perfect blend; therefore neither director can assume a dictatorial attitude toward his particular field. The music director next endeavors to embody in a composition the ideas that have been agreed upon. Questions of phrasing and of the number of measures and pauses will probably need reconsidera- tion when the rehearsal of the dance is first attempted. Hence the music director must not be too insistent that his composition is cast in its final form. On the other hand, the dance director must settle as early as possible upon his completed dance structure, as, once the music has been orchestrated, important changes can no longer be made. The structure of a dance in drama rests upon four underlying principles: mood, action, rhythmic progression, and climax. Broadly speaking, the mood of a dance is its emotional atmosphere. This may range all the way from tragic to comic. It may be vigorous, gay, and lively, or gentle, dreamy, and elusive. The mood is, of course, determined by the tone or mood of the scene in which the dance occurs. It hannoni/es with this tone just as does color and dialogue. Obviously therefore mood determines the 206 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY tempo of a dance, since the rate of movement naturally corresponds to the kind of emotion to be expressed. Nevertheless, there are often dance interludes in which the mood is largely a matter of the director's own inter- pretation, perhaps he has been left with only the most general suggestion from the author. By way of illus- tration, take a dance interlude which the stage directions refer to simply as "the Spirit of War." The mood of such a dance might be treated in several ways, accord- ing to the basic idea of the spectacle as a whole. Hence the spirit of war might be interpreted as a brilliant call to battle, with the steady march of troops suggested by the rhythmic sway of groups; or it might emphasize conflict, the lust of blood, and the sacrifice of human Life, together with the sorrow following in the wake of battle. Looked at in another way, the sacrifice of human life could be interpreted as a glorious and inspiring offering on the altar of the country, a mood almost mystic and religious in its significance. In the first instance, the mood would be interpreted by a strongly marked repeti- tive rhythm, march, and processional motifs; in the second (conflict followed by sorrow), the dance would begin turbulently, then gradually tone down to slow move- ments, and conclude with an ending as solemn as possible, with figures striving to express the tragic force of a Greek chorus. The last example (sacrifice on the country's altar) would be treated as a rhythmic ceremonial dance, typifying the laying of the sacrifice upon .a central altar, about which the figures would slowly weave movements of geometrical pattern. Still another treatment of the spirit THE DANCE 207 of war would be to construct the dance as a pantomimic representation of the preparation for battle followed by a mimetic fight. Such were the war dances of primitive people and the Pyrrhic dance of ancient Greece. The mood here is joy and exaltation an incitement to deeds of danger and heroism. The various examples are cited merely to show the varying moods which the dance may employ in interpreting a single idea, moods which range from the popular idea of the dance as an expression of joy to its equally important function as a dramatic accompaniment of story and of festival ceremonial. Action in the dance has a similar connotation to the use of this term in its application to dramatic theory. Action does not mean the bodily movements of groups or individuals, but it is used to describe the structure of the dance. It is through the action that the idea or plot on which the dance is founded is interpreted. Just as in spoken drama, the action is not necessarily concerned with crossings of the stage or, in short, with externals, but is the expression of idea-development. Hence it fre- quently happens in the dance that the most dramatic moment, the instant when the action is at its height, occurs during a pause. Action comprises the progress of the dance toward the climax which is itself the cul- mination of the action. It is not therefore a series of rapid steps and of helter skelter skippings about the stage, but the logical unfolding of the purpose for which the dance was created. Owing to the absence of the spoken word, however, the action is simple. As in drama every incident does not necessarily advance 208 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY the plot, which rather progresses in a series of wave- like motions, so in the dance action need not be implicit in every movement. During the onward sweep of the action toward the climax, the various di- visions of the advance may be linked together with descriptive movements. To continue the comparison with drama structure, the descriptive movements cor- respond to narrative passages. To sum up: in the struc- ture of a dramatic dance, action has the same meaning as this term connotes in the short story and in act structure. Rhythmic progression is the harmonious flow of the action of the dance through the climax to the conclusion. The mood determines the tempo and hence the kind of rhythm, and the whole is governed by the action to be expressed. Rhythmic progression, in the practical building of the dance, is the division and the progression of the action worked out through the dramatic laws of repetition, contrast, pause (suspense), and rise and fall of movement. These principles will be reserved for later consideration. The action is analyzed for mood and to determine the number of movements necessary to complete the action. The movements are nothing less than the story elements, 1 -in spoken drama they would be called the plot details. The tempo will vary and correspond to the elements of which the dance is composed. It must be remembered, however, that these movements of the dance are body movements, that it is these movements which interpret the idea or plot. Only in this sense is the parallel with 1 A dance which is the unfolding of a simple idea has, of course, analo- gous movements necessary to the revelation of the idea. THE DANCE 209 the spoken drama exact. The climax is the point of highest interest, the moment for which the whole dance exists. What has gone " before has been preparation, what follows is the conclusion, but the climax itself is the focus of the action. It may be further defined as the point in the dance where the spectator receives the final revelation of the idea. To refer once more to The Magic of the Hills for an illustration, in the second act the hero was attacked by the storm winds and was all but over- come when the moon maiden intervened to rescue him. The climax of the dance was at the point of the storm's maximum violence; at this instant the moon maiden broke through the clouds. The climax thus carried with it a dramatic pause. Then the storm, gathering force, although less violent than before, once more dimmed the lustre of the moon maiden. She, however, came forth again; and this time the storm died away with only dis- tant mutter ings and one final gust of energy, until the moon maiden finally conquered. The climax, on the other hand, is not necessarily the most beautiful moment in the dance, nor does it always present the most effective picture. It is the culmination of the story and is entirely governed by the la tier's needs. The climaxes of a great many dances may come at the exit, in which case, as in some short stories, climax and conclusion occur simultaneously. Again the climax, as in the example of the storm wind dance cited in the preceding paragraph, may be followed by several minor rises of the action, a series of anti-climaxes leading directly to the conclusion. 210 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY In arranging the groups it is essential that they be disposed so that the climax is properly emphasized in the minds of the spectators. A large stage requires the use of mass with the groups well-centred to secure the proper effect. Likewise the position at the moment of climax must be held for a sufficient length of time for the meaning to carry. This is particularly necessary out- doors where strength and breadth of treatment are essen- tial. When the climax and the end of the music are reached simultaneously, with the dancers still upon the stage, the groups must leave without musical accompani- ment, yet still sustain the atmosphere and spirit of the dance. After mood, action, rhythmic progression, and climax have been determined, the next task is the selection and arrangement of the steps to fit the type of dance and the movements required. It is as well to remark again that the steps themselves are not movement, but the elements which are combined to make movement. In natural dancing, which has to evolve its own technique, steps are studied as functions of the fundamental move- ments of the body, together with the mental states, or emotions, to which they correspond. As a foundation for the study of bodily movements expressing the emotions, four elements are recognized. These are: walking, run- ning, leaping, and twirling. Natural dancing founds its technique on the various possible developments of these four natural movements. In each case the mood to be portrayed fixes the quality of the step, as its speed, its regularity, or the reverse, and so on. THE DANCE 211 Walking may thus express dignity or excitement, gay buoyancy of spirit, or sorrow and depression, or even despair. To portray excitement and joy, the step will be light and elastic, quick and emphatic, such as is charac- teristic of the festival march or a triumphant military procession. Dignity is shown by a stately, gracious step, slower than ordinary, combined with perfect body-poise. Such a step belongs to wedding marches and the minuet. Sorrow and depression are expressed in a slow, solemn, dragging step, with the body relaxed and swaying from side to side. Running, leaping, and twirling depict a high level of excitement, the expression of tense joyous emotion, and again, at times, of fear and terror. As with the walk, each movement chosen is designed to correspond to the desired emotion which the progress of the action at that point has determined. Thus the whole structure of the dance is a minute study of the action in terms of dramatic emotion. The interpretation is synthetized from these emotions and the steps are the means whereby the emo- tions are conveyed to the minds of the spectators. The relation of steps to the rhythmic progression brings into consideration the principles of repetition, contrast, pause (suspense), and rise and fall of movement, which have already been referred to but not examined. Repetition is primarily a form of emphasis, but one which has rather severe limitations when applied to the dance. To repeat a certain movement once or twice is to enhance its beauty of effect and its meaning; to repeat it more than three times usually causes the movement to 212 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY lose its effect. Repetition, however, of a musical motif associated with a particular character is a help in inter- preting the dance. The repetition of the music and the reappearance of the character with a certain movement serves to mark the dramatic importance of the particular division of the dance. In general it is safe to say that repetition has the same value in the dance that it has in drama and pictorial composition, but may not be used quite as frequently. Contrast in the dance is as important as it is in color and grouping. Clearly, it is possible to work out con- trast in various ways, from contrasts of mood and action to its introduction in the various steps or details of the dance. Thus ideas in conflict with but subordinate to the main idea may be brought in, as in the storm dance already described. The appearance of the moon maiden gave a strong contrast to the central idea at the moment of climax. Minor contrast was introduced by a figure personifying lightning, who darted to and fro among the storm winds. Again, variations in the pace and tempo of a movement produce contrast. In a long dance it is, for practical reasons such as the physical exhaustion of the performers, impossible to have a continuously ascend- ing scale of movement toward the climax. But it is not necessary on this account to halt the action and thus destroy the unity of the dance. Contrast in tempo will not interrupt the progress of the action, while it gives the performers the needed relaxation. Especially in out- door dancing much contrast in tempo is desirable, since the most effective movements are slow, ending in pauses 'I*;!,, Av ./. Ji. Strfft, Ifanwr, .V. //. THE DANCE 213 held for an appreciable instant of time. Variations of tempo prevent monotony in the effects achieved. Con- trast also strengthens the impression made by individual movements, as when, if an ascending motion is intended, the performer first lowers the body by way of preparation. Contrast can also be obtained by varying the size of the groups, as at an entrance, when one figure first appears, then two or three more, until finally a large group emerges; or by the reverse process, with a single performer left alone on the stage after the others depart. Naturally the formation and size of the groups should be varied not only from dance to dance but from figure to figure within the dance. It is an easy matter to fall into a routine in disposing the groups, with the result that each dance is very like the last. The director must constantly strive for variety and contrast in the use of his groups. The various divisions of the stage, particularly if there are several levels, will assist him in gaining contrast. Pause and rise and fall of movement are closely bound up with the action; in fact, they are the chief means by which the action is interpreted. Pauses can be used to mark the divisions of the action and a change in mood, as well as to serve in marking suspense and climax. The rising movements will be characterized by rapid or em- phatic steps; falling movements by their opposites. The genc'ral plan of the dance will give sufficient instructions for the kind of steps which mark the approach to a pause, or the rising and falling movements. As in grouping, so in the dance, entrances and exits should receive careful consideration. The dance, as far 214 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY as its mood is concerned, begins with the entrance of the first performer, whether that person comes alone or is only one member of a large accompanying group. To see a number of performers who are to interpret a symbolical dance suddenly run upon the stage, face their audience, and then wait for the moment of the dance's beginning can only result in disillusionment. The entrance should be so constructed that it will be the first movement of the dance and a definite part of the rhythmic progression. Fairies, for example, must be fairies from the moment they are first seen, and not seem to be a group of people coming in who are going to be fairies in a few minutes. It is therefore best to suggest the mood through a few preliminary movements at the moment of entrance. If large groups are suddenly hurled onto the stage before the audience, the latter will be some time adapting their imaginations to the intended idea and part of the effect will be lost. Dancers representing forest breezes, for example, may first be shown as fleeting groups blowing across a path and disappearing, after the manner of a light, fitful summer air. Such a movement repeated once or twice before the dancers reach the portion of the stage assigned will prepare the audience for understanding the mood intended. It is a mistaken idea, although one commonly current with amateur producers, that the entrance of a group of dancers must be rapid to be effective. It is much more important to take time sufficient for the audience to grasp the spirit of the scene. Even a solo dancer may have an entrance lasting two or three minutes, if she possesses the THE DANCE 215 skill needed to hold -the audience's attention. A skilful combination of movements that foreshadow the story or idea to follow will keep the spectators' interest. A solitary figure dancing down a winding path from a hill- top would be a more dramatic entrance than the same figure hurrying in from the wings as if a solo dance were her whole reason for being there. On the other hand, the action may require in certain dances a rush and a sweep across the stage, followed by a plunge into the centre of the movement. Exits are of even more importance than entrances, for, with the conclusion, the final impression is made upon the minds of an audience. A faulty entrance may be overcome by the beauty of the dance that follows, but a weak exit will destroy the entire effect. The dancers must live their parts until they disappear from the scene of action. If they relax at the end, they will step right out of the picture and the charm will be broken. Hence they should never back off facing an audience, and so make it evident they are dancing instead of interpreting a scene. If the dancers represent fairies who are frightened at the entrance of mortals, they should run away in seem- ing fear, not troop off as if their one object was to crowd back to the dressing room thankful that their part was done. It is really the last person on the stage, no matter how large the group is, that carries the whole responsibility for the dance. Upon the dancer's ability to carry the idea and atmosphere of the scene as long as he or she is visible rests the final impression. Once more, as in the case of the entrance, the exit of a dance 216 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY may be slow, if the action demands it. A vision slowly vanishing in the distance, a winding procession of slowly moving figures disappearing one by one, may be more dramatic than any sudden rush. The point is that neither entrance nor exit is to be considered inde- pendently of the dance; they are both bound up with the dramatic action to be represented. PART II PART II REHEARSAL AND TRAINING AS in rehearsing the actors, the rehearsals of the dances include the training of individuals and groups. In large spectacles, particularly in historical pageants, the dancing is mainly carried on by groups; the solo dances are usually only a brief part of the per- formance. The director's most exacting work is to train these large amateur groups who perhaps know nothing of the dance save what they have learned in the ball- room. The soloists are usually chosen because they are already competent, so that the bulk of the rehearsing is devoted to the group. The successful teaching of large groups depends first of all upon thorough organization; the number of re- hearsals needed, the time at which they are to be held, the place, and last of all a disciplinary system to insure attendance, must be all planned in advance. From eight to fifteen rehearsals are necessary, according to the ability and previous experience of the material, for the average dance. Obviously complicated plot dances which depend upon absolute precision of movement to carry the dra- matic effect will need more rehearsals than the quieter interludes. Accuracy in responding to the music cues must be insisted on from the beginning. Uniformity upon the part of each person composing the group is 220 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY essential, so that the preliminary rehearsals must be con- ducted much like military drill. The director may add to or cut down the number of rehearsals according as his .performers develop slowly or rapidly. Among the details of organization is the question of dress for rehearsals. The dancers should wear a costume in which they are free to move and breathe. Unsuitable tight-fitting clothes may result in actual physical harm. If the dancers will have soft draperies to manipulate, they should rehearse in a costume similar in its lines to the one they are to wear in the performance. The dancer must above all seem to be familiar with her draperies and their floating movements. Likewise, the director can better study the lines and masses of the dance from the beginning. Cheese-cloth slips are inexpensive and may be easily made to imitate the general effect of the final costume. The proper training of the feet requires atten- tion to the footgear. Bare feet or stocking feet are pref- erable, as muscular control, balance, and poise are more easily learned with the feet in natural positions. If this is not practical, white canvas sandals should be worn, or the rubber-soled "sneaker," or even the regulation ballet slipper. Ordinary everyday shoes should not be used under any circumstances. The director appoints leaders to each group. These leaders keep a record of the names and addresses of all the members and a record of the attendance. All absences not absolutely unavoidable should carry the penalty of a small fine. Since fines are always difficult to collect, the best system is to require from everybody the deposit REHEARSAL AND TRAINING 221 in advance of a certain sum from which their fines are to be deducted, and the balance returned at the end of the rehearsals. If ail the members are impressed with the proper spirit of enthusiasm no such system is needed. The director must use his or her own discretion in the matter of retiring regular attendance. Extreme irregu- larity should result in dropping that individual from the group. As far as possible the responsibility for all the minor details of organization is left in the hands of the group leaders, and they report to the director. At the first rehearsal, the director tells the story of the whole production, as well as the part the particular group is to play in it. It is essential that they under- stand their relationship and then* relative importance in the spectacle. Next let them learn minutely the story of their own dance. If it is a folk-dance, they must know the reason for its introduction, its arrangement, its mean- ing, and its historical connection with the folk-lore of the country in which it originated. No dance should ever be taught as a mere combination of steps to be learned by rote. In the same way, plot and symbolical dances are analyzed and explained. The more compli- cated the dance, the more detailed must be this pre- liminary instruction. Whenever practical, the dance rehearsals should be held on the actual stage which is to be used in the production. Thorough familiarity with the stage is important, par- ticularly in the open air, where the surroundings seem at first strange and unfamiliar. The dancers must become accustomed to uneven ground, to the entrances and 222 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY exits, and to the other peculiarities of their particular stage. Let the director take one part of the dance and have his performers picture its movement against the background; have the dancers experiment with runs, leaps, bends, with movements fast and slow, until each individual begins to feel at home upon the chosen stage. If for any reason the real stage is not available until later on, a hall whose area is as large as possible, even approximately equal to the space the dance is to cover, should be obtained for rehearsals. Large dances cannot be taught in a cluttered room. All these preliminaries may be gone through without music. The latter is needed, however, when the actual building of the dance begins. The rehearsal of the dance proper includes a systematic routine in the technique of the dance. These exercises in technique form the foundation of every rehearsal. The performers are first taught the elements of body control, poise, rhythm, and expression of idea. The next step is to develop these exercises so that they are expressive of various moods. Walking, running, leaping, and twirl- ing should be tried, first in the mood of the intended dance, and then as the expressions of different moods. For example, there is a great contrast between the walk of a military march and that of a Greek processional dance, the one is a regular march rhythm, the other one ex- pressive of religious fervor and ecstasy. Then let the group give their own ideas of such different walks as, say, a birthday march or a wedding march. The director, of course, will help with suggestions and corrections. The next exercise is to teach the dancers to skip grace- REHEARSAL AND TRAINING 223 fully a matter which is not as simple as it sounds. The skip, both forwards and backwards, demands perfect balance and control. The backward skip of the average person is apt to be an ungainly movement until a sense of balance has been mastered. Again, let the skip be tried in varying moods, as that of a peasant, with a heavy accent on the ground, then lighter, as in a joyous dance on a village green, and finally as that of a fairy, hi which the ground is barely touched. In each case the object is to make the dancers feel and then to teach the expression of the feeling. They learn the value of each movement not as an artificial gesture or pose, assumed for a mere momentary effect, but as the interpretation of an emotion that they live. Nor are all movements neces- sarily graceful; it is more necessary that these movements be true. Truth in the dance does not mean photographic realism, any more than it does in the other arts, but it is rather the creation in the minds of the audience of a feeling of reality, an impression that the interpreter is inspired by and successfully portraying a true idea. The director next proceeds to have his dancers illus- trate the other movements of running, leaping, and twirl- ing in the same way. The object, again, is to express a complete idea in each movement, not to teach movement for its own sake. These principles of technique cannot all be given in one lesson; they should be introduced gradually into the work of the class, with particular at- tention to the pupils' power of absorption. These princi- ples, if well learned, will always remain as guides to any future work in the dance which members of the group 224 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY may wish to carry on. Of course, if time is limited and the production must be turned out as soon as possible, there will be opportunity to train the groups only in the fundamentals that belong to the particular type of dance they are learning. The elementary exercises in rhythm may accompany the first steps in technique, or be taught separately. A feeling for rhythm is essential as a foundation for all movement. At the same time the average pupil lacks an appreciation of the importance of rhythm in action, posture, movement, and speech. The elements of rhythm include instruction in such simple ideas as time, note values, accent, and simple phrasing. An example of an exercise covering these fundamentals is as follows: have the class practise a simple run, to a musical accompani- ment, first in two-four time, then a change to four-four, six-eight, three-four, and so on. Soon the group will learn to distinguish between these differences in time, and readily change from one to the other. The director may vary these and similar exercises at will, until it is reasonably certain that the group have acquired a feeling for, and a response to, rhythm. Once these general exercises have developed a certain degree of proficiency in the group, the complete dance is presented to them. If it is an original plot or interlude dance, the group should be kept interested in its creation. To do this, they should be permitted a share in the up- building and interpretation of the ideas. It is, of course, easier for the director to work out his dance and teach it by rote, as he would a folk-dance, but in a new dance REHEARSAL AND TRAINING 225 much of the result depends upon the spontaneous feeling with which the dancers interpret it. Furthermore, the rehearsals will be far more enjoyable for the participants if the director guides them through suggestions rather than through commands. Let the director give the group certain definite steps which correspond to the mood of the dance, and then have the group analyze these steps. Other suggestions will be made by various mem- bers, some of which the director will experiment with until he is convinced that the best means of expression has at last been found. Since the group have been sharers in and con- tributors to this creative process, they will throw themselves into their work with more spontaneity and conviction than would have been possible under any other circumstances. Care must be taken to keep the criticism of the group constructive, while the director must be prepared to give clear and convincing reasons for his acceptance or rejec- tion of the offered suggestions. The director must know why certain movements suggest waves and others are too heavy to represent them; why swaying grass can be shown in one way and seem artificial if tried in another. 1 lie is on his guard against steps which involve elaborate and affected pointing of the feet, because these are remi- niscent of the ballet. His chief task is to keep the im- aginations of his dancers stimulated. The routine of rehearsals is varied by the introduction of other exercises in which the dancers attempt the expression of other ideas different, from those of the dance they are learning. 1 It is obvious ihnt this knowledge is matter of taste and instinct, not of set riil'^ iind formula. 226 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY Even if the outdoor stage is not procurable until the date of the actual performance is approaching, as many of the rehearsals as possible should be held in the open air. There is a great difference between the effect of a dance on an indoor stage and one in the open. For this reason the performers must be made as familiar as possi- ble with the conditions of their stage. Even if it is not possible to have music for the earlier rehearsals, let the performers walk through their dances on the actual stage. In open-air technique all the movements are broad and strongly marked, otherwise they do not carry. A dance, rehearsed exclusively indoors, that seems full of variety and contrast may often prove weak and ineffective when viewed in a larger perspective. The remedy is not so much to increase the rapidity of the tempo as it is to strengthen the emphasis, to lengthen the pauses, and to build up the vigor and expressiveness of the movements. Frequently, the grouping will require altering to readjust its composition to wider angles of vision. For all these reasons, if outdoor rehearsals are left until the day of the dress rehearsal, it will then be too late to make the neces- sary corrections which the change of locality has shown to be advisable. When the rehearsals have used up about three-quarters of the time left before the performance, the dance should then be structurally completed. It is well to set a definite date in advance, so that music and all other details will be finished by that time. After this the dance must not be altered in its main outline; a few minor changes may still be made, and finishing touches added, but with REHEARSAL AND TRAINING 227 amateurs particularly there should be a fair number of rehearsals in which no further tinkering or shifting about occurs. Unless the performers are letter-perfect in the mechanical structure of the dance, such as the entrance and exit, the various groupings and mass movements, they will be liable to an attack of stage fright which will throw the scene into confusion. The remaining rehearsals are directed to gaining accuracy and perfection in the mechanical aspects re- ferred to and in smoothing out the rhythm, in the tech- nical mastery of the formal steps and in careful practice of the transitions to the contrasting movements. It is also necessary for the dancers to learn thoroughly their music. Difficulties in musical phrases should be repeated again and again until the time and accent are surely grasped. When convenient, the musical director should explain his music to the dancers, showing them how his music interprets the ideas which they, as dancers, are expressing through movement. The most important of all the rehearsals is the one with the full orchestra. There should be more than one of these, if funds allow, but as the expense of orchestra rehearsals is heavy, this may not be practical. To the uninitiated who have only heard their dance music played on the piano, the music of the orchestra will at first be confusing. The group must be able to recognize their music cues and the melodies which govern their move- ments, matters which the orchestration may seem to obscure in comparison with a piano. The orchestra should play the selection through once while the dancers listen: 228 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY then the group should try the dance and the music to- gether, and this should be repeated as many times as may be necessary. During the performance the group leaders are respon- sible for the entrance and exit cues, and also for the signals for all the movements on the stage. A well-trained group, once they are upon the stage, should follow their music and the movements of the dance almost unconsciously, but the group leaders must always be prepared to help in any moment of hesitation or confusion. On a large stage it is possible to speak quite loudly, if necessary, without its being apparent to the audience. Upon the group leaders also fall the duties of looking over the costumes to see that everything is in order, and to note if the dancers carry flowers, scarfs, ribbons, or other properties, that each person is properly equipped. The leaders will see their people assembled back of the en- trance in ample tune to allow all these details to be looked after. The director must see that one invariable rule is enforced: the dancers should never be permitted to carry anything on the day of the performance that they have not become familiar with in rehearsal. Solo dances offer quite a different problem and one which is more directly concerned with the type and size of the stage used. On a large outdoor stage with a diver- sified and broken background a solo figure may be quite lost. On the other hand, sometimes a dark natural setting, or a well-placed fore-stage, will give the solo artist as good an opportunity as would an indoor stage. Much depends upon the personality of the soloist out of doors. Is her REHEARSAL AND TRAINING 229 stage presence such that the attention of the audience can be caught and held? The director, in deciding this question, must remember that, in the open air, facial expression and dainty, small gestures, however perfectly executed, are practically useless. The scale of the stage so dwarfs the figure that all movements must be large and vigorous if this defect is to be overcome. There is little chance for contrast in the dance itself, since the dancer is limited to strong effects. With these handicaps, even a dancer of experience would have difficulty in holding the attention of the audience for more than two or three minutes in the main portion of her dance. Solo dances, therefore, should not be introduced on a large outdoor stage unless the dancer has experience and stage presence, and even then it is better to make them brief, or else combine them with group action. A soloist may bring with her a group of attendant figures, either singers or dancers, whose costumes are so designed that they make the soloist conspicuous by con- trast, but the chief objection to this is the inartistic effect of a group standing about with nothing to do while the soloist performs. If the group moves about, either there is confusion of effect or the soloist becomes merged into the group. One possible solution is for the soloist to detach herself from a processional group, and dance while the procession halts, as was done in the mediaeval triumphs and progresses. Again, skilful grouping can do much to narrow down the angle of vision of a large stage, the only difficulty being to find natural things for the groups to do which will not detract from the soloist. 230 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY On small intimate stages, of whatever type, whether indoor or outdoor, the solo dance has the same value, in its proper proportion, that other dramatic elements possess. In planning a solo dance, whether for the large or the small stage, the method of approach involves the same principles that have already been considered not only in building the large group dance but in the con- struction of all portions of the production. The dance, once more, is a clear expression of an idea; it may not be vague or indefinite. There is no place in the solo for the purely descriptive passages of movements which may mark transitions in the group dance. The soloist, then, in constructing the dance, must continually ask not only herself but those qualified to judge whether each step, as it is worked out, really conveys the meaning intended. The freedom of her personality is restricted by this fun- damental limitation which affects all artists. To perform inexplicable movements on the ground that they are characteristic of her personality is no more permissible than it would be for an artist to daub a canvas with hap- hazard splashes of color and then defend himself by main- taining that his personality could be free only under such conditions. Natural dancing is a form of rhythmic panto- mime, and one of its first tasks is to make itself understood. The soloist, therefore, needs the help of several onlookers while she is working out her dance, not to criticize her steps but to tell her what her dance conveys to them. She must be willing and eager to rebuild it again and again until it does reveal the intended idea. Nothing which passes on a stage from the simplest spoken word to the REHEARSAL AND TRAINING 231 most complicated mass grouping may be without mean- ing. The drama is not a medium for the study of occultism. Sometimes a solo artist, whether a dancer or the employer of some other medium, imagines that any- thing uninteUigible is artistic, particularly if it be sur- rounded by an atmosphere of the unusual. As a matter of fact there is nothing esoteric about art. There can be no such thing on the stage as an art that is over the heads of the audience. If in some way the artist cannot find the secret of reaching the audience, then that artist has failed. The soloist, therefore, must work again and yet again upon the interpretation of her dance, until its meaning and its beauty stand forth clear and un- obscured. A solo dance is constructed almost identically after the manner of the group dance, but for convenience one illustration is given. In The Magic of the Hills the follow- ing solo plot dance occurred. The text read: "The Indian maiden takes from her neck a talisman, saying to her lover: 'Here is a token to keep you safe upon your journey. It is an old talisman of the tribe belonging to the days when men understood the voices of the hills.' The maiden then dances for her lover the Dance of the Talisman." Thus the plot defines fairly well the mood and action of the dance. The Indian character determines to a cer- tain extent the type of step. Beyond these things, the dancer is left freedom of interpretation. It happened that the Indian legend did not belong to any particular period or tribe, so that there was opportunity to combine the 232 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY characteristic steps of several tribes. Since, however, the spirit of the drama was idealistic and not a realistic treat- ment of Indian folk-lore, it was advisable to adhere to type only sufficiently to create the suggestion of an Indian atmosphere. The key idea of the dance was the fact that the maiden was offering to her lover a sacred object; therefore the first part of the dance needed a ceremonial character. The talisman was a bear's claw, as the text showed further on, and this gave the clue for making the last part of the dance a pantomimic representation of the hunting of the bear. As finally worked out the dance was rendered in this way: the maiden slowly took the bear's claw from her neck and raised it upward toward the Great Spirit; then she walked straight forward with solemn, rhythmic steps, and placed it on the ground in the centre of the stage. Next she retreated from it, with equal deliberation, keeping her eyes fixed on the sacred object. Following this, she wove a circle of slow, shuffling steps about the talisman, keeping her body turned toward it, and performed a series of incantations with outstretched palms. Having completed her circle, she paused. At this point came the transition of mood, which formed a sharp contrast with the ceremonial beginning. After a moment's pause, she seized a bow and arrow and began the panto- mimic hunt of the bear. Her movements were now large and free, expressive of the excitement and joy of the chase; first came the tracking of the animal in the woods, the discovery, the pursuit, the loosing of the fatal arrow, and finally the triumphant cutting off of the claw. This done, the dance changed again to the ceremonial character REHEARSAL AND TRAINING 233 of the opening, as she returned to her lover and placed the talisman about his neck. This example will serve to make clear what is meant by constructing a solo dance that is the dramatic expres- sion of an idea. Each movement was carefully calculated to make plain to the audience the meaning. In like manner the musical accompaniment of such a dance is composed to fit that dance and no other. Indian melodies may form the basis, but they cannot be any Indian melodies, chosen at random. As in the case of the group dances, the musical director collaborates with the dance creator that their combined efforts may perfectly har- monize. CHAPTER X MUSIC Thee the voice, the dance obey, Tempered to thy warbled lay. O'er Idalias velvet-green The rosy crowned Loves are seen On Cytherea's day With antic Sports, and blue-eyed Pleasures Frisking light in frolic measures; Now pursuing, now retreating, Now in circling troops they meet: To brisk notes in cadence beating Glance their many-twinkling feet." GRAY: The Progress of Poesy. MUSIC is the connecting medium that joins and completes each separate part of a production. Its function is therefore an organic one, as it was in Greek drama, a part of the unified conception of the whole. Too often music in drama and pageantry is treated as merely an incidental accompaniment, a trapping of sound added at the last moment, or chosen arbitrarily without due regard to the purport and idea of the spectacle. But it is by means of music that dance, color, word, and gesture may all blend together to achieve the final conception. In short, music is one of the great expressive forces of drama, now helping to suggest the atmosphere, and again translating to our emotions the mood of each succeeding scene. Thus it can serve to deepen impressions, to MUSIC 235 strengthen dramatic movement and climax, as well as to convey to us the connecting ideas linking scene to scene. Obviously, then, the power of music in its relation to a particular production is one of the primary factors which the director must keep uppermost in his mind, as he conceives the working out of his spectacle. If he regards it as merely a question of selecting incidental musical compositions, to be played here and there, as his fancy dictates, the result will be, on the musical side, a drama of shreds and patches. The value of music in drama is primarily emotional. This is the key to the consideration of the problem of its use in a given production. Music can bring out the depth of feeling of some great dramatic movements more comprehensively than dance, pantomime, or word, since its appeal is direct to our emotions. It interprets in terms of feeling, hence it prepares the mind of the audience by putting it into a receptive mood to understand the emo- tions which it is the object of a given scene to arouse. In drama much that appeals to the reason alone can be best expressed through words, but the final aim of drama is to stir the emotions. Words can do this only to a limited extent. Color, movement, music, these three, on the stage, most deeply stir our emotions. Music can take up the author's meaning at the point where words cease to be effective, since, in one sense, music might be de- scribed as the sublimated essence of things which are above words. It alone can adequately express the spirit of a composition and, further, it can convey the very spirit of the characters themselves. 236 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY It is needless to point out, since they are familiar to everybody, the examples of Richard Wagner's music dramas. In these works is found a perfect union of music with drama which has not existed since the days of Athenian tragedy. The drama, the poetry, and the music are conceived each one in terms of the other, and each is necessary to complete the other. They are at the same time interchangeable in their emotional values and in- divisible. They represent the greatest genius of modern drama a model to strive toward, but not to imitate. Mere imitation, by lesser minds, of the works of genius can, of course, yield only sterile results. What the fol- lower can do, however, in default of genius, is to keep such an ideal drama as his model, as a spirit which guides his mind in striving to attain further progress. From Wagner he can learn what it means to think of music as an integral part of a great dramatic spectacle. He will not try to write a Wagnerian music drama as a consequence, but he will keep in mind the theory of art which this ideal has set up before him. Here is the spirit in which music as an element of drama is conceived. Keeping this in mind, the pageant producer will approach his musical problems from a more intelligently artistic point of view. Music is not only one of the greatest of the art problems which the producer must solve, but it is also one of the most difficult of the practical questions. First in impor- tance comes the selection of the music director. Endeavor should be made to find a local man who is fitted to carry out the work of composing and organizing the music, since the aim of pageantry is to develop all the arts in MUSIC 237 a community. He must be a man who is sympathetic toward the union of music and drama not one who looks upon music in this case as an independent art. He need not, however, be a man of wide experience, provided he has ability and enthusiasm. Community drama and pageantry offer to the young composer his opportunity. Like the other amateur artists associated with the pro- duction, it is his chance to find himself. In the larger cities it is usually not a difficult matter to discover a musician who will answer acceptably the needs, even though he may not be destined to be a genius. Smaller communities present greater difficulties, and here it is often necessary to use the services of a professional. The latter is apt to be more perfunctory in his work, doing his allotted task and no more. He is not so quick or eager to enter into the spirit of the production, nor to sympathize with the musical needs of a community to which he does not belong. On one thing, however, the producer must insist. His musical director, whoever he may be, should write his music, whenever possible, in close touch with the community where the pageant is to be produced. It is less advisable to have someone sit in a distant studio and compose music for a pageant at long range. The composition of the music must go hand in hand with the building of the production, if artistic unity is to result. The pageant master, even though himself not a musician, will have to guide his musical director, whether amateur or professional, in the requirements of the particular production. The two must work together constantly in 238 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY order that they may in the end arrive at a common ideal, which is that of the pageant as a whole. Cooperation of arts and artists is what community drama requires not the independence of geniuses working each for himself. The experienced musician may often feel that, owing to the pressure of his other duties, he can give only a limited amount of time to the undertaking. This is another reason why the young and ambitious composer will usually obtain better results. The director once chosen, his duties should be made clear in a contract stating exactly the scope of his work. These will, of course, vary according to the elaborateness and nature of the production; but the work of the aver- age director consists in writing original music, research in folk-songs and dances, and the choosing of any other musical material required. He is also responsible for having the music orchestrated and copied, for organizing and training the choruses and orchestra, and for conducting at rehearsals and performances. In large productions he may have several assistants, but his responsibility for the general supervision of the music and all details connected with it remains the same. Where finances do not warrant the engagement of a musical director, the details of the musical arrangements will be left to a volunteer committee subject to the advice and direction of the pageant master. A local competition for the original music desired may be organized, and thus much interest aroused. But if original music is un- obtainable, the last resource is to select compositions as appropriate as may be found. MUSIC 239 Music which is chosen here and there can never be as satisfactory from an artistic point of view as original compositions. This is true even if the selected music is by world-famous composers. The better known the music, the more it is apt to have associations for the audience which are contrary to, or remote from, the spirit of the new production. Familiar music may often destroy the whole unity of the conception. It tells not the story the author intended; instead it may tell a quite different story which the audience heard years ago and cannot banish from their minds. Thus a fire dance interlude to Wagner's fire-music cannot be made a unified thing be- cause of the associations this music carries with it. Never- theless, music is often chosen on some such theory of appropriateness as this. The crux of the matter is that selected music can never be wholly appropriate to its new setting. There are, however, degrees of appropriateness - greater or less and the only thing the director, or his committee, can do is to choose the greater rather than the less. The exceptional case when selected music may be made absolutely suitable is in choosing folk-songs, dances, and airs which belong to a particular historic period to be represented. In fact a modern composer may fail utterly to catch the spirit of the seventeenth or eighteenth cen- turies in his original work, unless he have a sensitive appreciation of his task. The selection of folk-music is not nowadays a difficult task, owing to the completeness with which modern scholars have gathered the material. The chief caution is to adhere as closely as possible to 240 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY the known dates, so that a seventeenth-century episode does not end with a song written in the middle of the eighteenth. The director may be trusted to have a due regard for these matters. There still remain a number of artistic and practical questions to consider in composing pageant music. It has already been said that the composer works hand in hand with the pageant master. Not only should the music interpret correctly the mood and spirit of the individual scenes and of the pageant as a whole, but it should possess local color. It ought to include a feeling for the traditions of the community for which it is written. Thus, if the performance is intended for a fishing-village or a town by the sea, the music will suggest in its simpler moments the old sea-chanties, and in its more elaborate phases the awe and mystery of lives lived by the sea. To a mountain-folk the music will express the freedom and vastness of the hills; to a city people, again, it will seem to have caught the very spirit of city life. In like manner, the music for the dance interludes is governed by the structure and meaning of the dance. Once more the dance director, the pageant master, and the musician are found working side by side, experiment- ing, making changes, possibly mutual concessions, - until the desired result is worked out in its entirety. The composer tries to express each idea presented to him in definite themes or motifs, which later the audience will learn to recognize and interpret as they hear them played. If time allows, the more elaborate compositions and choruses should be rehearsed on the stage before the final MUSIC 241 dress rehearsal, that the dramatic effect of all the more important music may be carefully studied. Then, too, the performers should have an opportunity to become as familiar as possible with all the music, since this will help them to enter into the spirit of the final effort. Music is closely allied to the setting and the color harmony, for, like these, it has a direct emotional appeal through its power to suggest. It can be, therefore, a great help in creating at the outset the atmosphere desired. A prelude, for example, may convey not only the music of a historic period, but the mood in which the audience are to put themselves. The latter may be suggested through tone qualities alone, as sombre, or gay, or inspiring, as the case may be, or through melodies that are full of associations for a particular locality, such as the airs which belong to the traditions of the town. Again, a pageant opening with an episode concerning the mound builders would have a musical prelude suggesting the strange, the unknown, and the barbaric. Here we have no means of knowing what the music of the mound builders was like, yet the requisite atmosphere can be conveyed to the audience by a simple strongly marked rhythm constantly repeated without variation. It often happens, however, that the pageant drama reproduces scenes from the lives of ancient or primitive peoples concerning whose music there are traditions, or possibly may be a little learning in the minds of the audience. The modern composer, of course, will neither ignore the traditions nor the historical facts in arranging music for these episodes. For instance, of the three 242 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY fundamentals of music, melody, rhythm, and harmony, the primitive peoples attached the greatest emphasis to rhythm. It was the most completely systematized ele- ment in ancient music. The rhythmic sense is quickly aroused through bodily movements, and so the dance was universally associated with music, both as an expres- sion of pleasure and in religious ceremonials. In fact, it is doubtful if, in early times, music and the dance ever existed apart from one another. This characteristic is worth noting because, once remembered, it gives the clue to the types of rhythm belonging to primitive music. The rhythm itself was marked by beating on a tom-tom or similar percussion instrument. Harmony was the one element of music which was lacking in ancient times, the chief office of the various musical instruments being to mark the rhythm. Since ancient or primitive music was so different from that of modern times, the question always arises as to how far the present-day composer should go in attempting historic accuracy. Should the revival of Greek drama and festivals have music which is to a certain extent imita- tive of what is known of the Greek scale, or simply a dignified composition based on our theories of music? Which method will best convey to a modern audience the desired atmosphere? The answer really depends on the ability of a given audience to understand and appreciate an archaic form, or even an approximation of an archaic form. In most cases it is better to proceed as one would with the mound builders' episode, and compose music which is suggestive by its strangeness, yet which has the MUSIC 243 elements of beauty modern ears demand. Rhythm may be emphasized and the number of instruments employed reduced. In other words, the problem is not so 1 much a question of compromise as it is the frank adoption of another convention in lieu of one that is no longer under- stood. Just as the dialogue of Greek tragedy is translated into English for the convenience of the audience, so it is more satisfactory to translate the music. The same holds true of Chinese or Indian or other music. Not until the period of folk-song is reached is literal reproduction advisable. The airs and melodies of folk-songs should be left alone. They are beautiful in themselves, but they are too fragile to blend successfully with heavier music. A medley is, therefore, to be avoided, unless the composer has great feeling and skill. In the same way, folk-songs must be carefully chosen to fit the desired conditions. Select those that are most characteristic, most beautiful, and most suited to the subject-matter of the episode. Much of the effectiveness of folk songs and dances may be in- creased by using the original instruments. In the Eng- lish morris, for instance, the dance was accompanied by the pipe and tabor. These were played by a single per- former, who manipulated the stops of the little pipe with the fingers of his left hand while the right was free to tap the tabor suspended from his left wrist by a thong. In later times the fiddle and concertina replaced the pipe and tabor in the morris. It is, however, difficult to procure and to learn how to play the old instruments, valuable as these are for con- tributing to the illusion. Furthermore, in the open air, 244 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY they do not possess, by themselves, sufficient volume of sound to fill a large space and must be reenforced by similar instruments in the orchestra. Yet even if the actual instruments are unobtainable, it is worth using "property" ones for the sake of the atmosphere. The practical aspects of the music are governed by the orchestral resources available. The composer must not be too ambitious or he may write beyond the capacities of an amateur orchestra to perform. He should adhere to the underlying principles of clearness and simplicity, together with appropriateness, unless it happens that a large professional orchestra is to be at his disposition. In that case he may enjoy a full measure of freedom in his work, submitting only to the spirit of the occasion. An amateur orchestra, however, requires simple though not commonplace music. Furthermore, the more elaborate the music the greater becomes the cost of having it played. Copying and orchestrating music are expensive and take time. To have orchestration done professionally costs approximately twenty dollars for four pages. Copying is done at the rate of fifteen to twenty cents a page. Amateur orchestras do not, as a rule, readily read manu- script music. Every increase in the elaborate nature of the music requires, therefore, a longer period of time for preparation and rehearsal. All these factors the music director will bear in mind and make his plans accordingly. Often a pageant or community drama is to be produced in a town possessing a conservatory or school of music, or a college with a department of music. Many of the problems of composing, orchestrating, or selecting the MUSIC 245 music may be turned over to this institution, the head of which will probably willingly serve as musical director of the production. At Smith College, for example, Pro- fessor Sleeper makes the composition of the music for the Commencement spectacle part of the required curriculum of the music department. In other words, the possible resources of a given community are thoroughly considered when the pageant master looks over the ground, and everything which the community offers is to be preferred to any outside assistance. The music chosen or composed, the organization of the orchestra, is the next difficult question to be faced. Large professional orchestras are expensive, often far beyond the financial resources of the average production, and yet the open air demands not only volume of sound but good music. The ordinary theatre orchestra of eight or ten pieces is useful only as a nucleus. It cannot fill a large open-air stage. Perhaps a town possesses an amateur organization of some kind, even if only a high school group, which can be combined with the available pro- fessionals. Scattered through the town are a number of individual performers. These must be sought out and induced to join the pageant orchestra. The amateurs, once gathered together, will need several weeks of rehearsing and training before they will play acceptably. The musical director must either undertake this work of training, or appoint a capable assistant to do it for him. Since the professionals are the largest element of cost, they need not join the orchestra until the final rehearsals. If an entirely professional orchestra 246 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY is employed, it is well to remember that the cost of each rehearsal is one half that of a regular performance. If time allows, the amateur orchestra should be organ- ized in the autumn, so that regular rehearsals and concerts may be held all winter. A small charge for admission to the concerts will accumulate a fund for the purchase of additional instruments, or defray the cost of music lessons for certain individuals in the group. It is quite possible that the pageant orchestra may grow into a permanent organization. The engagement of professionals is quite another ques- tion. Where the musical union is in control, the orchestra must be composed entirely of union men. Amateurs are not allowed to play in the same orchestra. The prices for rehearsals and performances are standardized by the rules of the union and no modifications are permissible. It is necessary to draw up a written contract with the professional orchestra stating clearly the exact dates for rehearsals and performances, the number of men to be furnished, and the hours they are to play, together with the price to be paid for their services. If this is not done, the final expense is likely to exceed the budget allowance. The pageant master must assure himself that his musical director has made all the arrangements for organizing the orchestra on a business-like basis. In organizing an orchestra it is of first importance to obtain a proper balance of its parts. This balance is analogous to that of a quartette of singers composed of a tenor, alto, soprano, and bass. A well-balanced orchestra possesses the quality of all four registers without any one MUSIC 247 of them too predominant. The instruments available for orchestral use are divided into three classes: stringed, wind, and percussion. The relative values of these three classes depend entirely upon the place where they are to be used. Indoors, in a hall with good acoustics, the strings are the important element. In a large armory the strings lose a good deal of their effectiveness and the wind instru- ments are the more necessary. Out of doors, in a small grove, strings and wind combined give good results, while on the large outdoor pageant stage, the strings lack suffi- cient carrying power, and thus tone quality and volume are lost. The most successful large-scale outdoor orchestra is a combination of wind and percussion instruments. However, there are certain other facts to bear in mind in planning the orchestra. Strings command a great range of tone which they can hold as long as desired. They can also play at any rate of speed, with any amount of force, and with the greatest variety of expression. The bowed instruments can be played for any length of time without fatiguing the performer, while with the wind instruments the players must have frequent periods of rest to regain their breath. Again, the listener can enjoy the string tones for a longer period than those produced by wind. These matters are all important in planning a production where almost continuous music is desired. In a stringed orchestra the strings compose about two- thirds of the entire group, in the proportion of five first violins, four second violins, three violoncellos, three violas, and two double basses. The double bass is an important instrument for securing foundation and is better in this 248 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY capacity than the violoncellos. It is difficult to find ama- teur viola players in small towns and country districts. The strings usually carry the melodies because they can play long-sustained passages. They may occasionally be silent, for the sake of contrast. The harp is used chiefly for accompaniment. The wind instruments are divided into two groups, the wood wind and the brass. The wood wind are the more important, particularly in the open air, where they are relied upon to replace the strings. In this group are flutes, oboes, clarinets, and bassoons to which may be added the piccolo and English horn, the bass-clarinet, and the contra-bassoon. The group is not homogeneous, and hence is less frequently used en masse than is the case with the strings. Wood wind instruments yield con- trasting and color effects, but they are more monotonous in tone than the strings, although they are easier to learn to play. In the open air good use can be made of the flute to interpret light and delicate passages that indoors would be assigned to the strings. The most useful of the wood wind instruments is the clarinet, because of its great range and beautiful quality. Bassoons serve princi- pally to reenforce the bass. The brass instruments, comprising horns, trumpets, trombones, and tuba, all require great delicacy and cer- tainty in the management of the performers' lips and breath, if this portion of the orchestra is to keep its proper balance. In nearly every town there is a brass band whose services may be enlisted, but to combine it success- fully with the other players is another matter. Usually MUSIC 249 these bands pride themselves upon the vigor of their playing, and to induce them to become a subordinate part of an amateur orchestra requires both tact and several rehearsals. In an outdoor production the brass may be allowed a heavier share of the balance than is possible indoors. But in each case care must be taken that there is not a preponderance of brass sound. In certain episodes, of course, brass will best render the spirit of the scene. Thus the tone quality of the horn may be graduated from sonorous and blaring to the mysterious and poetic. The trumpet is noble and brilliant; it is especially well adapted for short stirring passages, while its military association makes its use in battle scenes a necessity. For simple orchestras, the best combination of these instruments is that known as the brass quartette: two cornets, a horn, and a trombone. One of the cornets may take the place of a trumpet and play the same music, but it will not be so fine in tone. It is usually an easy matter to find players for these instruments. If only cornet players are available, a few weeks' practice will enable them to play fairly well on the trombone and horn. The trombone, the alto-horn, and the French horn are generally used for the "off-stage" trumpet calls and flourishes and for special atmospheric effects. The tone quality of a French horn may be readily imitated by placing a derby hat over the bell of a cornet. The trom- bone and tuba are the powerful instruments of the brass group and may be used to cover deficiencies of tone and quality in the rest of the orchestra. The trumpet or cornet is equally strong in sound volume, but being 250 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY played at a higher pitch, the tones are more shrill and penetrating. The percussion instruments include the kettle, bass, and snare drums. The kettle-drums are always used in pairs and are useful for keeping the orchestra together. They give forth definite pitch and tones. With the drums are found the metallic instruments such as the cymbals, the triangle, the bell, and the gong. The chief function of these is to add an emotional effect of excitement during the dramatic passages. The piano is often used when it is impossible to obtain all the instruments for a well-balanced orchestra. Its tone does not, however, blend well with an orchestra, and hence its use is regarded more or less as a makeshift. If used at all, it should preferably be indoors, as in the open air it contributes little or nothing. The following table of balanced orchestras for a varying number of pieces will be found a useful guide. No. of pieces 12 ist violins 2 ad violins Violas Cellos Double-basses Flutes Clarinets Oboe o Cornets a Bassoons o French horns o Trumpets o Trombones i Tympani o Drums i Traps i i5 21 3o 43 5o 4 4 6 8 10 2 2 4 6 8 I 3 3 4 I 3 3 4 I 2 3 4 I I a 2 2 2 2 2 O O O 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 O I I a 2 O 2 2 4 4 O 2 a a 2 I I i 3 3 O I o i I I I I 2 2 I I I I I MUSIC 251 In connection with this table, it may be noted that with full wood-wind and brass sections almost any num- ber of strings may be added. The ratio is one violoncello and one double-bass for every two first and two second violins. Another way of stating the usual ratio is one double bass to every ten players in the orchestra. The location of the orchestra, either indoors or outdoors, on the types of stage preferable for use in pageantry and community drama, is an unsolved problem. Various situations have particular advantages and disadvantages; none of them is ideal. No definite suggestions can be offered, since each production presents its differing prob- lem, according to the acoustics of the locality, the size of the orchestra, and the relative importance of the music to the spectacle as a whole. The one essential is that the music must be heard, both by actors and by the audience, particularly when processions, songs, and dances form parts of the pageant. On the other hand, it is desirable that the orchestra be invisible, since it forms no part of the picture, and an uncostumed orchestra is not in itself an artistic thing. All that may be said by way of advice is to enumerate some of the ways this question of placing the orchestra has been met in a number of pageants. In small halls, where the entire spectacle passes on the platform stage, the orchestra occupies the same position as in the theatre, that is to say, strung along between the stage and the audience, with the conductor in the middle. In larger halls, where there is a semicircular fore-stage in front of the platform, the orchestra is placed on the right-hand side, looking from the audience. This is the 252 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY prompt-side of the stage, from which the pageant master directs the performance; therefore it is better to have the orchestra as near him as possible. Wherever the orchestra is placed, the conductor must have a clear view both of main and fore-stage. This is necessary not only to insure the prompt taking of the music cues, but if there is choral singing or dancing, the necessity for it is obvious. Therefore, in screening the orchestra from the view of the public, care must be taken not to cut off the conductor's line of sight. Outdoors the same two arrangements of the music are possible, but neither is quite satisfactory. If the orchestra is between the audience and the stage, it will obstruct the view of the audience. If it is placed to one side, there will be considerable loss of sound, since the tone volume of the orchestra is at the mercy of the wind and the vast open space. At the St. Louis pageant a music shell was built in the centre of the stage at the rear, screened in such a way that the sound was not impeded, nor the players seen. A partly sunken pit with a shell behind it, placed directly on the stage, but diagonally to one side, has been tried. The objections to this are that the arrange- ment is unsightly, that the complete view of the stage is interfered with, and that many times the performers are unable to hear the music. At St. Albans a central section of the grandstand was given up to the orchestra a plan that was successful in that particular case because the grandstand was roofed over. Also the seating area was so large that the space could be spared. Perhaps the best solution is to have a sunken pit close to the grand- stand. By lowering the orchestra the line of sight is not MUSIC 253 interrupted, and the sound reaches both audience and performers. In the open air a special floor must always be built for the orchestra, whether they are placed in a sunken pit or on the ground level. This floor must be of sufficient area to accommodate all the instrumentalists in comfort. Certain instruments, such as trombones, require more floor space than others, and this must be taken into account. Likewise the floor area should have a roof, preferably shell-shaped, to act both as sounding board and as protection against damp weather. For night per- formances the lighting must be of sufficient brilliancy to enable the players to read manuscript music easily. When it comes time for the chorus and dancers to re- hearse with the orchestra, many minor details will need adjustment and smoothing over. The regular accompanist, who has rehearsed the groups with a piano, has probably developed certain individual characteristics which make the orchestrated music sound, at first, unfamiliar. Possibly the tempo has been taken faster or slower than the music was written. Both chorus and dancers must relearn their music or at least become familiar with its more elabo- rate form. If the music director has been frequently pres- ent at the earlier rehearsals, so as to guide the accompanist in the proper interpretations, less difficulty will be sub- sequently encountered. Another valuable help is to use a violin as well as a piano during the period of preliminary training. The music cues must be carefully studied, to avoid any chance of the awkward stage waits which are some- 254 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY times characteristic of amateur productions. If cuts have been made in the music, the director must check ah 1 the scores to insure accuracy. Nothing is more fatal than to have a single instrument suddenly come in at an unexpected place. In the more elaborate productions the music cues are given directly to the conductor by signals or bell connections. In smaller pageants he is responsible for music cues. Exit music and finales should be marked for repetition. It is not always possible, on large open- air stages, to time exits with invariable accuracy, and if the ' exit music ceases before all the performers are off, the effect of the ending is spoiled. Finally, the unity and continuity of pageantry do not admit of encores to any of the musical numbers, whether they are songs or dances. It is desirable to have the audience join in singing cer- tain of the choral songs, particularly in the usual pageant hymn. Some organization is necessary to secure this. The words and music, or at least the words, should be printed and freely distributed through the audience. The words may be sent around beforehand to the schools and colleges, or be printed in the local newspapers. A few members of the chorus may be stationed in the audi- ence to help start the song and lend confidence to those about them. A specially written song, identified with the pageant, is generally more successful than one of our national anthems. For some reason an American audience always sings a national anthem in a hesitating way, whereas they can be made to respond with enthusiasm to a local song which they feel is identified with their community. MUSIC 255 As a final word, pageant music, like the pageant itself, is a matter of painstaking organization and attention to details. Care, frequent rehearsals, and hard work are essential in making it successful. It is not an accessory to, but a component part of, the production, and there- fore it cannot be slighted. There is no other element that takes more time to perfect, nor that yields such abundant reward for the months spent upon it. Under intelligent guidance it can be made the very essence of the community's spirit. This is the music ideal for the pageant worker to follow. CHAPTER XI ORGANIZATION TO give a pageant or production on a large scale requires the organization of a complex system. Only through business-like planning and preparation can the production attain artistic and financial success. The centre of this organization is found in the pageant master; he supplies the knowledge, skill, and energy needed to set the complicated machinery in motion. The prelimi- nary work of organization and preparation must begin at least six months before the intended date of the pro- duction, while pageants on the largest scale will require a year or more. This preliminary work is carried on by means of a number of committees who cooperate actively with the pageant master and with each other. The pur- pose of this chapter is to define the duties of the pageant master and his committees and to suggest general methods of procedure. For these reasons, the organization described will be one suitable for a pageant on the largest scale. For smaller productions the number and personnel of the committees may be proportionately reduced. A community which is considering the question of a pageant should first choose a general pageant committee composed of prominent citizens who are representative of all sides of the town's interests. On this committee ORGANIZATION 257 should be bankers, merchants, lawyers, doctors, educators, clergymen, labor leaders, and all who through influence and local affiliations would be designated for any list of important citizens. The mayor of the town and other political powers are naturally included, the mayor being usually chairman ex-officio. The size of this preliminary committee is immaterial; the important thing is to have it fully representative of the city. For a large pageant in a good-sized town the committee will probably have about one hundred members. 1 The purpose of this com- mittee is not to serve in an executive capacity but to arouse the interest of the community in the pageant. Do the people really wish to give a pageant? Will they support it financially and personally? These are the preliminary questions that must be answered. In other words, the pageant committee conducts a campaign of education through the newspapers and by public assem- blies, and determines from the results of this campaign whether a pageant is advisable. The people must first of all learn something about pageantry before public opinion can be accurately gauged. As part of the campaign of education, invitations are sent out to a number of pageant directors to come and lecture on pageants. They will show through pictures and discussions what other cities have done, with par- ticular attention to the value of pageantry to a community and the particular needs of the city in question. These lectures and talks should receive as wide newspaper pub- licity as possible in order that the pageant idea may reach 1 This was the size of the committee at Newark, N. J. 258 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY a large majority of the citizens. Special talks in the schools will usually enlist a throng of valuable allies. In short, the project must ferment for a while in the minds of the community before its practicability can be ascer- tained. Let it be assumed, however, that the promises of sup- port which the pageant committee have received are sufficient to justify them in going ahead. The next step is to choose the pageant director. He may be either one of those who lectured, or, if possible, a local man or woman with experience enough to undertake the task. It is literally true that the success or failure of the pageant hangs upon this choice. The director must not only know how to stage a large spectacle, with all the details which that work involves, but his personality must be of the kind that readily secures cooperation and support. If he cannot work with all sorts and conditions of men without friction, his knowledge of staging will avail noth- ing. Again, it is not necessarily sufficient that his experi- ence has been exclusively with professionals, for the organization and rehearsing of hundreds perhaps thou- sands of amateurs is another story. And last of all, he should be a good business man able to spend money intelligently but not wastefully. It is easy to allow the preliminary expenses to get out of hand and thus make a failure of an otherwise successful production. The best way to choose the director is through a small sub-com- mittee appointed by the general committee. This com- mittee, being less unwieldy, can meet and investigate the work of the various candidates under consideration. It ORGANIZATION 259 should call for preliminary plans based on the contem- plated financial appropriation, and go over these plans in personal interviews with the candidates. Finally they recommend to the general committee the name of a particular individual. The latter then reports to the whole committee and gives a detailed explanation of his plan. If this is satisfactory, he is appointed, and a careful con- tract is made assuring him full and unhampered responsi- bility for putting the pageant on the stage. The pageant master now takes charge of the organiza- tion. He must carefully study his field with a view to the best practical application of his tentative plans. His work falls into three groups: the appointment of com- mittees to secure active cooperation and interest on the part of the community; the artistic elements of the spectacle; and the practical questions relating to the gen- eral management. Since the artistic side of his problem has formed the basis of the preceding chapters, only the prac- tical questions will be dealt with here. A good business secretary, either man or woman, should be appointed as a central pivot of the organization. This secretary is placed in an office in an accessible part of the city and this office is made the clearing-house for all information concerning the pageant. Here is kept a card- index file of all the local organizations whose cooperation might be invited, and later on this card system will be extended to include complete time-schedules of the re- hearsals. The secretary will have charge of the details of the publicity and will keep a scrap-book covering all notices of the pageant. It is also the secretary's duty to 260 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY answer all inquiries, as well as to keep the reporters sup- plied with material for the press. A preliminary appro- priation will be needed for office-rent, the secretary's salary, stenography, light, heat, postage, and other inci- dentals. It is obvious that the next committee chosen should be the finance committee. The general committee will desig- nate the business men who will serve in this capacity, and the pageant master may ask to have included one or two members whose judgment on the artistic side of the production is valuable. This is a safeguard against reduc- ing the expenses in the wrong place. The pageant master now submits to the finance committee, for its approval, his budget, which should be a complete estimate of the pageant expenses. This budget is necessarily a compli- cated affair and must therefore be studied with particular care. Along with the items of expenditure must go an estimate of the expected income and the sources from which it is to be derived. The finance committee may present to the pageant master a definite appropriation and instruct him to make his estimates within that limit, or it may call upon him for a budget based upon the scale of the contemplated production. The budget items for expenditure are listed as follows: the preliminary organization and publicity, and the pro- duction. Under the latter head come the expenses of all kinds which relate to putting the spectacle on the stage. These are subdivided into two general classes. The first is the front of the house, which includes rent of grounds or stage, erection of seats, lighting of the stands or audi- Photo by Ira Hill, X. T. GROUPS IN MOVEMENT AND AT REST (Greek Games Barnard ) GROUPING. OITIMMHIS Photo bv Ira Hill, \. )' ORGANIZATION 261 torium, ushers, tickets, programs, printing of pageant book, transportation, insurance, telegraph, telephone, and labor. The other classification is the stage. This includes music with its subdivisions, such as salary of the music director, the payments for orchestra or band, orchestration and purchase of music, and the erection of the music stand; properties, making and hiring; costuming, design- ing, purchase of materials, making and hiring, and salaries of wardrobe women; necessary alterations or construc- tions on the stage, masking entrances, planting trees or shrubs, putting the grounds in condition, lighting, and the dressing and property tents; cost of rehearsals, such as hiring halls, light, and the services of a pianist, the salaries of director and assistants, the dance director and her assistants. In addition, allowance must be made for such varying items as make-up and cosmetics, together with the remuneration for professional make-up assistants, police, sanitary arrangements, ambulance and hospital tent, and general service with other incidentals. To offset this formidable list of expenses is the estimate of income. The principal item is of course the gate receipts. What is the total seating capacity and the number of seats at each price? How many performances are to be given? Needless to say, it is better to allow a safe margin here and not to base the figures on a capacity audience at each performance. Furthermore, there is the weather to remember, that bugbear of open-air spec- tacles. For some reason a postponed performance never attracts as large an audience as one held on the date originally set. Other sources of income are: rent of con- 262 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY cessions at the grounds, payment for costumes from members of the cast who wish to retain their costumes, the sale of the pageant book and illustrated souvenir programs, the sale of souvenir medals, pennants, and badges, and the returns from the automobile parking space. It is of course the duty of the pageant master to see that his estimates are not only within the expected in- come, but that the work of the production does not compel him to exceed them. He must be neither extravagant nor too optimistic on the subjects of expenditures and income. His figures must be presented clearly and concisely to pass the acid test which the business men of his finance committee will subject them to. Their knowledge of local conditions may enable modifications to be made in the figures relating to the front of the house. But on matters affecting music, costuming, properties, and the staging, the pageant master must stand firm. Either there is money to give the production on the contemplated scale, or there is not. If the estimates must be reduced, it should be done by cutting down the number of performers, not by cheapening the method of production. The pageant master should make this quite clear at the outset to avoid all risk of future misunderstandings. A rigid business system for spending the appropriation must be devised and adhered to. This is best done by having as treasurer a business man who can give ample time to supervising the method of expending the money. If the pageant is dependent upon the income from the performances, a preliminary guarantee fund will have to be ORGANIZATION 263 underwritten in order to obtain a banking credit. Against this bank credit all expenditures are made only through printed order slips which have to be countersigned by the treasurer. These order slips bear the date, name of creditor, description of the item, and the amount. One copy is filed by the treasurer and the other given to the creditor to be presented with his bill. No expenditures should be recognized, no matter by whom incurred, unless made hi this way. The treasurer will record each expendi- ture, as he makes out the corresponding order slip, on an expenditure sheet, and will keep close watch to see that the totals do not run over the estimate for that particular item. He can thus tell at a glance at any time exactly what the financial status of the pageant organization is. If for any reason some estimates must be exceeded, this can usually be done by making corresponding reductions distributed over other items. Certain items usually run over the estimate while others are under. Consultations between the pageant master and the treasurer will straighten out these cases. If, however, the expenses run away with the estimates beyond a reasonable point, it is evidence of the pageant master's incompetency. In the latter event a complete revision of the production will be necessary. Finally, to assure public confidence in the business side of the pageant, the complete financial state- ment, after examination by auditors, should be published when the books are closed. The rigidity of this system does not preclude giving special committees petty cash funds to disburse on small items without consultation with the treasurer. But all 264 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY such expenditures are, of course, accounted for and accu- rate sheets turned in, listing them in detail. They should be countersigned by the chairman of the committee in- curring the outlay. Often it is necessary to pay small amounts at once, either for convenience or to save time, and it would be too cumbersome to have to see the treas- urer in each case. The pageant master will, however, warn his committees against making payments out of their own pockets and then turning in vouchers later. In a large organization, if many people are making a series of even small payments on their own judgment and responsi- bility, a lot of money will soon be used up. The remedy is a drastic but necessary one: vouchers not based on the chairman's petty cash funds or signed by the treasurer should not be honored. It is seldom that any purchase is so urgent that proper authority for it cannot be soon obtained. The finances arranged for, the pubh'city committee will begin an energetic campaign on behalf of the pageant and the pageant idea. Under the latter heading come the more important but less tangible objects of pageantry, namely, to awaken civic pride and intelligent patriotism. This committee decides on what people it is necessary to interest directly and on the answer to the question "why the community is to give a pageant." Their work should have the result of insuring financial success by securing a large attendance and of keeping before the people the idea that the pageant is not merely "a big show" but a matter of civic importance. All the details of preparation from the selection of the historical material to the design- ORGANIZATION 265 ing of the costumes they will keep prominently in public notice. Everyone must know and understand what is going on. The newspapers will accept every item that can be handled as news, particularly if the local values are emphasized. Other material must be presented as paid publicity. In addition, the committee will canvas the business men, the social leaders, and all the organiza- tions that might be induced to cooperate. Clubs, schools, recreation centres, are all sources of cast material, provided their interest is aroused in the proper way. The chairman of this committee should be a person skilled in publicity work. He must guard himself against sensational methods, or the advertisement of the pageant as simply a gorgeous spectacle. His main work has to be educational, because as yet pageantry is a new idea to the majority of people. It also follows that the chair- man should possess a wide local acquaintance among his community and the neighboring towns. Unlike the publicity connected with a theatre, pageantry notices are practically all advance work. Criticisms of the open- ing performance are of little importance compared with the task of educating and informing the public concern- ing the preparation and objects of the pageant. The publicity committee should begin their work from the inception of the pageant idea. On the practical side of the work a few suggestions may be of value. As far as expenses are concerned, the chair- man will submit his estimates to the finance committee. The items are: paid newspaper advertising; posters and handbills; photographs and cuts; and educational lectures 266 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY on pageantry. The material which falls more directly under news items are descriptive stories of the prepara- tions, outlines of the historical episodes, descriptions of pageants in other cities, an acccount of the pageant di- rector's former work, and so on. Old legends of the city or of the locality may furnish interesting newspaper stories. The music, the dances, all details as they are decided upon, are news. Lists of committees and of patronesses, names of business men, and of the cast are sources of publicity. The public should be made familiar with the whole story of the pageant as far in advance as possible. This again the newspapers will usually accept as news. In fact, the amount of actual paid advertising in the newspapers needs only to be sufficient to secure their active support. What is most often neglected is publicity work in neighboring towns. One of the best methods is to have certain of the episodes represented by other localities. When this is done the pageant becomes local news for those towns as well. Railroad and trolley companies should be consulted about special fares and extra trans- portation on pageant days, and in this way these com- panies will add their publicity to the sum total. Suc- cessful publicity depends, in other words, upon an energetic and systematic policy covering all the possible aspects of the pageant as they affect the particular community. For outdoor pageantry, the selection of the grounds should be made with care. The pageant director serves as chairman of the grounds committee, since his advice on the suitability of the location as a stage is final. The ideal pageant ground is one with a distant view of the ORGANIZATION 267 town as the background of the far perspective. At St. Albans the foreground was a meadow on the site of the old Roman city of Verulamium, with the town itself perched upon a hill about a mile away. The central point of the skyline was the Norman abbey, about which the houses clustered, a view that had changed but little during all the centuries whose episodes unrolled themselves in the meadow below. So fortunate a ground is not often found. If no stage with a view of the city is obtainable, let one be chosen that is at least characteristic of the locality. A familiar landscape or a spot famous in local legend or history is appropriate. The indifferent pageant ground is a situation which is merely beautiful, such as the formal grounds of a large estate. This has no value as a stage for historic scenes, however beautiful it may be, for its associations are too personal; it is characteristic neither of the town nor of the natural country. On the more practical aspects of the grounds, the pa- geant master decides concerning the possibilities of the stage. Other things are: accessibility for the public, the acoustics, and the rent. The grounds must be within at least easy trolley reach, but not too near the transporta- tion lines or the noise will interfere with the performance. For a like reason the parking space for automobiles and travelled roads must not be too close to the stage. The acoustics of different localities vary to such a degree that actual experiment is necessary. A hilly background, or water in the middle or foreground, helps the sound to carry. As a further precaution the grandstand should be placed on the side facing the prevailing winds. Last of 268 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY all, the question of rent is limited by the appropriation made by the finance committee; but it is often possible to secure the use of the grounds rent-free, provided an agreement is made to restore them to then* original con- dition after the production. The provision of a grandstand and the arrangements for the comfort of the audience are likewise within the province of the grounds committee. In theory, a natural amphitheatre with the audience seated about a sloping, grassy bank is best. 1 Unfortunately such conditions are rare, particularly as accessibility of the grounds is really the principal factor. To build a grandstand for a large audience is easily the most costly item of the whole pageant. It should be done only when there is reasonable assurance that the stands will be filled. Circus seats which are quickly set up and taken down can be hired and in the majority of cases offer the best solution from the financial standpoint. The total seating capacity, relative to the expected gate receipts, must be carefully determined. Aisles should be made broad and the indi- vidual seating area wide. The audience must be comfort- able, and no consideration of making an extra profit should be allowed to crowd and huddle them together unneces- sarily. All seats should be permanently marked with their numbers and the ushers instructed in seating people correctly. Nor should the audience be annoyed by pro- gram or souvenir sellers. No one should have access to the grandstand except ushers and ticket holders. Refresh- ments, programs and the like should be on sale at the en- 1 See the illustration of The Dell Theatre at the Hill School. ORGANIZATION 269 trance in stands erected for the purpose. Once the audience are seated they should be free to follow the pageant undisturbed. In front of the grandstand and boxes, the latter simple rope enclosures on the level ground, there should be a broad promenade between the seats and the stage. This makes the rapid and com- fortable handling of the crowd much easier. In line with the conveniences of the grandstand is the provision of numerous entrances and ticket booths. All of these are essential matters of forethought and system, for nothing marks more surely an amateur production than lack of system and confusion in handling a crowd. A lesson might well be learned from the ease with which crowds are managed at the important football games of our colleges. An audience which have to fight their way in and out, and to sit for two hours or more in physical discomfort in a crowded stand, will go away with mixed feelings concerning the production they have witnessed. The grounds committee will also provide for police and fire protection. An adequate police force, particularly if a section of the seats are free, is essential. Again, wooden stands, either indoors or out, are a dangerous fire risk. Extinguishers a liberal number of them - must be at hand, and the stands must be constantly patrolled. In the open air, cigarettes and matches need careful watching. The aisles must be kept clear and waste paper gathered up. Last of all, the grounds com- mittee will arrange for a hospital tent with doctor and nurse and an ambulance. In all crowds of any size it is necessary to be ready for any emergency. 270 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY The pageant master associates with himself a number of production committees to assist him in looking after the multiple details which no one person could find time to attend to. The first of these is the book committee. Its task is to help in collecting the historical data and presenting it in shape to use. Sometimes it is customary to appoint with it a historical censor who checks and vouches for the accuracy of the material. This person should be one who has specialized in the history of the town. His advice will not always be valuable from a dramatic point of view, but his assistance in gathering facts is almost indispensable. The book committee compiles the facts for the story of the pageant; after the text has been outlined, sees to its distribution to the pub- licity committee; and prepares the program. In rare cases it collaborates on the actual writing of the text, although usually it is better to have one person, preferably the pageant director, alone responsible for this. The cast committee is the second of the production committees. To it is entrusted the work of finding actors for the episodes and the determining of methods for choosing the principals. Each episode should be organized as a separate group, with a leader who does not play a part in the pageant. The actors may be chosen in two ways: the cast committee may persuade certain clubs or associations to take entire episodes and assume all responsibility for providing actors, or it may make a public announcement calling upon all interested in trying for a part to send in their names. The candidates can then meet at designated places and try for parts on a ORGANIZATION 271 competitive basis. Although this is the more democratic way of filling a cast, it is not always certain to provide enough volunteers. Many people are frightened away by the idea of a competition. The rehearsal committee works in close touch with the cast committee. Its duties are to arrange a schedule of rehearsals, with dates and times, and to see that all groups receive a copy of the schedule. It must also pro- vide a place for the rehearsals and a piano and musician, if these are needed. It will keep a record of the attendance and have general oversight of the progress of the produc- tion. The members of this committee should be preferably chosen from among those who have had some experience in amateur dramatics, as they can then relieve the director of part of his work by occasionally conducting a portion of the rehearsals. The music committee assists the music director in any- thing that may be required of it. Its members copy music, help in collecting the orchestra, oversee the erection of the music stand, and make themselves generally useful. If folk and dance music of a particular period is desired, they assist in the research work. In short, this committee bears the same relation to the music director that the book committee does to the pageant master. In a similar way the members of the dance committee are at the disposal of the dance director. They make a special canvass of the town for people who have had experience in dancing, and arrange for any competitions for choosing dancers. The study of folk-dance steps is also in their field. 272 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY One of the important parts of the organization is the art committee. Its members prepare plans for the decora- tion of the town during the pageant performances, for the decoration of the hall, if indoors, or of the grounds, if outdoors, and have charge of the competitions for posters and program cover designs. They also assist in planning the general color scheme of the pageant and exercise a general advisory censorship over the costume designs, prop- erties, and the entire artistic side of the pageant. As in the case of the other committees, however, they provide suggestions and look after administrative duties, rather than exercise an executive capacity. The pageant master's decision must always be understood to supersede any recommendation from his committees when, in his opinion, it is necessary to go contrary to then* advice. The costume committee is a large group containing people of varied talents. The historical costumes require exacting study and research, which must be divided up according to periods. A full list of the characters and supernumeraries in each episode is made, and then follows the process of ascertaining the type of costume needed for each individual. The costumes for the interludes are designed by another group in the committee, as the research members will have all the work they can attend to in selecting historical costumes. It is necessary to have two or three people who have some knowledge of design- ing, or at least who possess skill in sketching and in the use of water-colors. The interlude costumes allow the fullest play of the designers' imagination and color sense. They are guided, of course, by the color scales already ORGANIZATION 273 drawn up either by the pageant director or the art com- mittee. The ablest people available are assigned to the work of designing these interlude costumes, since the task involves creative skill. 1 Another important group are the buyers. They must know a good deal about materials and the stores where the best terms are obtainable. The buying should be planned on a comprehensive scale and not be done piecemeal. A large single order will result in a considerable reduction in the total cost of the ma- terials. This same group may also look after the details of making up the materials after they are purchased, and attend to whatever renting of costumes may be necessary. In a large pageant it is necessary to have a professional dress-maker in charge of making up the materials, but a number of volunteer seamstresses should work with her. A few individuals may prefer to have their own costumes made. The committee will then see that they are made strictly in accordance with the predetermined design, and that no alterations are introduced into the design on the plea that it would be "more becoming" if changed. Each costume, as it is completed, should be tagged with the name of the character, the name of the individual who is to wear it, and the number of the episode in which it is to be worn. It is then turned over to the mistress of the wardrobe, who is responsible for its preservation. She may be a member of the committee. Costumes are easily soiled or crumpled by careless handling, so it is necessary to have one person to take care of them. When the costumes are distributed to the performers the list should 1 See Chap. VIII on Costumes and Setting. 274 COMMUNITY AND DRAMA PAGEANTRY again be checked, in order that the wardrobe mistress can tell at a glance who has each costume. Instructions as to how the costumes are to be worn are given by the committee, a matter which must not be overlooked when there are groups of children to provide for. These instructions include such details as the color of shoes and stockings, if these are not furnished, how the hair is to be worn, and similar matters. After the costumes have been distributed they should be inspected once more on the day of the dress rehearsal. This is necessary in order to see if they are complete, are correctly worn, and are in perfect condition. Finally, the wardrobe mistress is re- sponsible for the return of every costume after each per- formance, particularly after the last one. Amateurs have a tendency to look upon a costume as personal property, or to be careless about returning it promptly and entire. Rented and borrowed costumes naturally have to be handled by a business-like system. In fact, any lack of system in a matter which involves so heavy a part of the expense of a pageant as does the costuming will result in a surprising increase over the original esti- mates. The property committee is in reality a subdivision of the costume committee, since many properties, such as weapons, are integral parts of the costume. But the properties are usually numerous enough to need separate supervision. The costume committee inform the property committee how many individuals there are to carry bows and arrows, spears, guns, artificial flowers and the like, and the property committee must either have these things ORGANIZATION 275 made, hired, or borrowed, as the case may be. The ex- pense for properties must be rigidly kept down by the committee's ingenuity in devising ways and means of providing the objects. If a lump order for properties is given to a theatrical firm the cost will be excessive. Spears can easily be made by boys in manual training schools, and the same is true of bows and arrows, wooden guns, shields, and swords. AH of these things may be of wood, painted or silvered with aluminum paint. If there is no manual training school, the local carpenter and a staff of volunteers will answer for most of the properties. If guns have to be fired in battle scenes, wooden dummies will not do, and real guns must be rented. The property com- mittee are also responsible for the accuracy of all flags, standards, banners, and heraldic devices. The properties are listed, tagged, and looked after in the same way as the costumes. For large productions a stage management committee can be of great assistance to the director. Its members assist hi preparing the stage for the performance, have charge of the lighting arrangements for night performances, and see that each group, during the production, make their entrance punctually on their cue. A member should be stationed at each entrance to the stage with two or three call-boys as assistants. These entrances, in vast spectacles, are in telephonic communication with the pa- geant director, who thus can transmit his orders directly. But the committee must attend rehearsals until they are thoroughly familiar with the production, and in any emergency, such as a missed cue, will know what ought 276 COMMUNITY DRAMA AND PAGEANTRY to be done. They are likewise responsible for discipline and good order behind the scenes. To prevent unneces- sary noise and confusion, the groups are kept in their dressing tents until just before they are to make their entrance. The stage management committee notify the groups by the call-boys when the time has come. It will take great firmness to prevent people in one episode from standing in the wings to watch what others are doing. They are certain to betray their presence to the audience and to block the wings so that smooth entrances and exits are impossible. It is advisable to have the stage manage- ment committee in an inconspicuous costume, so that they can actually go on to the stage if there should happen to be any confusion or if an important property should be forgotten. Last of all, when the stage is not so large as to make prompting useless, a member of the committee acts as prompter. The make-up committee completes the list of production committees. As has already been said, the make-up of the principal characters is placed either in the hands of a professional or of a person with experience in this difficult matter. In open-air performances in the daytime very little make-up is needed, while even at night the heavy make-up of a stage lighted by strong footlights is to be avoided. This committee sees to the purchase of the cosmetics, crepe-hair and spirit gum, to providing cotton batting, cheese-cloth towels, regular towels, soap, mirrors, washing facilities, and all the items required. Its members are also in charge of hiring and, later, of dis- tributing the wigs. It is a difficult matter to make a ORGANIZATION 277 satisfactory wig, so those for the principal characters, at least, must be rented. The committee will see that the dressing tents are supplied with sufficient tables, chairs, mirrors, brushes and combs, and, at night, with adequate light. All these things must be provided for in good sea- son. Often such essential details are left to the last minute, with consequent confusion and detriment to the production. In regard to the work of all the committees, the pa- geant master will impress upon his helpers that their tasks are not ended with the last exit of the performers. The same care and forethought are needed to wind up the affairs of a pageant organization as were used at the beginning. Costumes and properties are collected and accounted for, the grounds restored, the grandstands taken down, and the financial statement completed. All outstanding accounts must be gathered together promptly, petty cash balances returned, and damages, losses, and similar items made up at once and turned in to the treas- urer. Not until every matter has been satisfactorily attended to are the committees discharged from their responsibilities. Only by constant forethought and system from the inception of the pageant to the payment of the last dollar can the pageant be made a success on the side of its organization. There can be no excuse for any management which is not conducted on this basis. BIBLIOGRAPHIES THE bibliographies to the various chapters aim to include three classes of books: sources, secondary and scholarly works with bibliographies, and practi- cal or suggestive works likely to be of assistance to students and experimenters in the dramatic fields covered. It naturally follows that the books relating to drama, dramatic criticism and the dramatic arts are listed more numerously than books in the realm of music, and the other arts allied to drama. In the same way the scientific or anthropological aspects of dramatic evolution are covered by a list of only a few of the better known books in this field. But it is hoped that on the side of acting, stage production, and the theatric arts in general this bibliography will be found more useful and varied than any at present available in one volume. In no one field, however, does the bibli- ography pretend to be complete or exhaustive. The idea has been to select those books of more or less permanent value, and as far as possible, to confine the selections to works likely to be found in the larger American libraries, such as the New York or Boston public libraries, the library of Congress, or the libraries of Yale, Columbia, and Harvard. For the convenience of those who may consult these pages, magazine articles have been included only when there was no other source covering the particular field. Unfortunately the history of present-day pageantry has to be sought through a scattered file of periodicals and newspapers. BIBLIOGRAPHIES SELECTED LIST OF BOOKS ON DRAMA, PAGEANT AND FESTIVAL ORIGINS For Folk-lore bibliography, see COURTNEY, W. P.: A Register of National Bibliography, vol. I, 1908; and the transactions and publications of the various folk-lore societies. Anglia and similar publications devoted to literary scholarship and philology also contain scattered material on festivals and pageants. GROSE, F., and ASTLE, T.: The Antiquarian Repertory. A miscel- laneous assemblage of topography, history, biography, cus- toms, and manners. 2d. ed., 4 vols. London, 1807. ARNOLD: The Customs of London, otherwise Arnold's Chronicle. Edited by F. Douce, 1811. LANEHAM, ROBERT: Letter describing the magnificent pageants presented before Queen Elizabeth at Kenilworth Castle in 1575. R'p't'd. London, 1821. M ALONE, E. : Historical Account of the Rise and Progress of tfie English Stage. London, 1821. In vol. Ill of his edition of Shakespeare's plays. HONE, W. : Ancient Mysteries Described. 1828. A standard work. Includes, also, descriptions of the Festivals of Fools and Lord Mayors' Shows. NICHOLS, J.: Progress and Public Processions of Queen ElizabeUi. 2d ed. 3 vols. 1828. 282 BIBLIOGRAPHY I SHARP, T. : A Dissertation on the Pageants or Dramatic Mysteries, anciently performed at Coventry. Coventry, 1826. With plates and music. A standard work. Contains a lot of miscellaneous information on mediaeval stage details and municipal festivals. NICHOLS, J.: Progresses, Processions, and Festivities of James I, his Court, etc. 4 vols. 1828. The books by Nichols contain a vast fund of interesting information. RUGGIERI, CLAUDE: Precis historique sur les fetes, les spectacles et les rejouissances publiques. Paris, i83o. NICHOLS,!.: London Pageants. 1887. A list of London pageants will also be found in the Gentleman's Maga- zine, vol. 94, pt. ii, pp. n3, 4n and 5i4- SANDYS, W.: Christmastide, its History, Festivities, and Carols. London, n. d. [circa i833?} STRUTT, J.: The Sports and Pastimes of the People of England: including the rural and domestic recreations, May games, mummeries, shows, processions, pageants, and pompous spec- tacles, from the earliest period to the present time. New ed. by W. Hone. i833. To be freely consulted for the subjects listed by the title-page. HONE,W.: The Every-day Book and Table Book. 3 vols. i838. DOUCE, F.: Illustrations of Shakespeare, and of Ancient Manners: with Dissertations on the Clowns and Fools of Shakespeare, and on the English Morris Dance. i83g. A standard work. FAIRHOLT, F. W. : Lord Mayor's Pageants. 2 vols. 1 843-4. Percy Soc. Publ. Contains descriptions, synopses, texts, and notes. Bibliotheque dramatique deM.de Soleinne. Paris, i844- Vol. 5, pp. 17-68, contains a remarkable list of books on " Ffetes, Pompes et Solemnites Publiques." GDLES, J. A.: History of the Ancient Britons [especially from B.C. 55 to A.D. 44oD- 2 vols. London, i847- ORIGINS 283 MERRYWEATHER, F. S.: Glimmerings in the Dark, or Lights and Shadows of the Olden Time. London, i85o. ViOLLET-LE-Duc, E. L. N.: Ancien Theatre fran^ois: depuis les Mysteres jusqu'a Corneille. 10 vols. i854~7. An important and valuable list of mysteries, spectacles, masques, and plays. BELL, R. : Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the Peasantry of England. i8bj. DORAN, JOHN: A History of Court Fools. London, 1868. KLEIN, J. L.: Geschichte des Dramas. i3 vols. 1865-76. Has been superseded by Creizenach, q. v. KELLY, W.: Notices Illustrative of the Drama and other Popular Amusements, chiefly in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries. London, i864- Extracted from the Chamberlain's accounts and other MSS. of the Borough of Leicester. BRAND, J.: Observations on Popular Antiquities. Edited with additions by W. C. Hazlitt. 3 vols. 1870. Vol. I, The Calendar; vol. II, Customs and Ceremonies; vol. Ill, Super- stitions. [ist. ed. 3 vols. i84i-2.] Of equal value with Strutt and Douce. HALLIWELL-PHILLJPPS, J. 0.: A Collection of Ancient Documents respecting the Office of Master of the Revels, and other Papers relating to the Early English Theatre. London, 1870. LACROIX, PAUL: Moeurs, usages et costumes au Moyen-age et a Cepoque de la Renaissance. Paris, 1873. MANNHARDT, W. : Wald- und Feld-K ulte. 2 vols. Berlin, 1875-77. DYER, T. F. THISELTON: English Popular Customs, Present and Past. 1876. PERCY, THOMAS: Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. Ed. H. B. Wheatley, 3 vols. 1876. Another ed. Everyman's Library. Professor Child's collection of ballads is complete and scholarly this popular and accessible. SKENE, W. F. : Celtic Scotland. 3 vols. Edinburgh, 1876-80. A valuable work. 284 BIBLIOGRAPHY I COLLIER, JOHN PAYNE: The History of English Dramatic Poetry to the Time of Shakespeare; and Annals of the Stage to the Restoration. 3 vols. 1879. DYER, T. F. THISELTON: English Folk-Lore, ad ed., 1880. Useful. Popular handbook. HARLAND, J., and WILKINSON, T. T. : Lancashire Legends, Tradi- tions, Pageants, Sports. With an appendix on Lancashire witches. 1882. DE JULLEVILLE, L. PETIT: Histoire du Theatre en France au May en- age. "Les Mysteres," 1880; " Les Comediens en France au Moyen-age," i885; "La Comedie et les Mceurs en France au Moyen-age," 1886. The standard reference work for France. Descriptions of mediaeval staging and festivals. GRIMM, J.: Teutonic Mythology. Transl. from the 4th ed. with notes and appendix by J. S. Stallybrass. 4 vols. 1880-8. JUSSERAND, J. J.: Le Theatre en Angleterre. ad ed., 1881. Valuable. Period from the Conquest to the immediate predecessors of Shakespeare. CHILD, F. J. : The English and Scottish Popular Ballads. 10 vols. 1882^98. The most complete and scholarly edition. A convenient source for popu- lar tales and stories. SCARTH, H. M.: Roman Britain. London, n. d. [1888], A good popular account. NEWELL, W. W.: Games and Songs of American Children. 1884. RHYS, JOHN: Celtic Britain. London, ad ed., 1884. A good brief account. STODDARD, F. E.: References for Students of Miracle Plays and Mysteries. 1887. LOWE, R. W.: A Bibliographical Account of English Dramatic Literature. London, 1887. BOLTON, H. C.: The Counting-out Rhymes of Children. 1888. ORIGINS 285 GOMME, G. L.: The Village Community: with special reference to the origin and form of its survivals in Britain. 1890. Useful. HARTLAND, E. S.: The Science of Fairy Tales. An inquiry into fairy mythology. 1891. FLEAY, F. G.: Biographical Chronicle of the English Drama, i55g- i64a. 2 vols. London, 1891. ORDISH, T. F.: English Folk-drama. 1891-8. In Folk-lore, vols. II and IV. See this for accounts of mummers' plays. BRUNETTERE, F.: U Evolution des Genres dans rhistoire de la litterature. Paris, 1892. GUMMERE, F. B. : Germanic Origins; a study in primitive culture. New York, 1892. Valuable. FRAZER, J. G.: The Golden Bough. 3 vols. London, 1890. Rev. and enlarged 1900. 3d ed., 10 vols. London, 1907-13. The chief work on the scientific aspect of festival and dramatic origins. NORTHALL, G. F.: English Folk-rhymes. A collection of tradi- tional verses relating to places and persons, customs, supersti- tions, etc. 1892. BATES, K. L.: The English Religious Drama. 1893. A standard work. BAPST, G.: Essai sur THistoire du Theatre. i8g3. Illus. Interesting' for its account of French staging and scenery. CREIZENACH, W. : Geschichte des neueren Dramas. 1893-1909. An admirable general history of druma and its development. GOMME, MRS. A. B.: The Traditional Games of England, Scotland, and Ireland, with Tunes. 2 vols. iSg/j-S. In part I of Dictionary of British Folk-lore, ed. by G. L. Gommc. Valuable. DITCHFIELD, P. H.: Old English Customs Extant at the Present Time. 1896. Useful. 286 BIBLIOGRAPHY I DORPFELD, W., and REISCH, E. : Das Griechische Theater. Athens, 1896. The standard. Some of the conclusions differ from those of Haigh. HAIGH, A. E.: The Tragic Drama of the Greeks. Oxford, 1896. One of the most convenient reference books. MANLY, J. M.: Specimens of the Pre-Shakespearean Drama. 3 vols. 1897. Contains mummers' and sword-dance plays, early religious drama and Tudor interludes. WINDLE, B. C. A.: Life in Early Britain. London, 1897. A handbook for popular use. ALLEN, GRANT: The Evolution of the Idea of God. An inquiry into the origins of religion. 1897. A popular study. BERTRAND, ALEXANDRE: La Religion des Gaulois; les Druides et le Druidisme. Paris, 1897. Ireland, pp. 277-96. Cox, M. R.: Introduction to Folk-lore. 2d ed., 1897. A good elementary work. FEASEY, H. J.: Ancient English Holy Week Ceremonial. 1897. GREEN, J. R. : The Making of England. [A.D. 449-829.] London. 2 vols. R'p't'd. 1897. GOMME, G. L.: Christmas Mummers. 1897. In Nature, vol. LVII. HAVARD, 0.: Les Fetes de nos peres. Paris, 1898. PHILPOT, ISALINE: The Sacred Tree; or the Tree in Religion and Myth. London, 1897. ORDISH, T. F.: Shakespeare's London. A study of London in the time of Queen Elizabeth. London, 1879. Rev. ed. 190^. POLLARD, A. W. : English Miracle Plays, Moralities, and Interludes. 3d. ed., 1898. A standard work. DILL, S. : Roman Society in the last Days of the Western Empire. London, 1898. ORIGINS 287 MOMMSEN, A.: Feste der Stadt Athen im Altherthum. Leipzig, 1898. HAIGH, A. E.: The Attic Theatre, 2d ed., Oxford, 1898. Descriptions of the stage and of dramatic performances. CONYBEARE, F. C.: The History of Christmas. 1899. In Journal of American Theology, vol. III. FOWLER, W. W.: Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic. London, 1899. IUus. TILLE, A.: Yule and Christmas; Their Place in the Germanic Year. 1899. LANG, ANDREW: Myth, Ritual, and Religion. 2d ed. 1899. HEYWOOD, W. : Our Lady of August and the Polio of Siena. Siena, 1899- WARD, A. W.: History of English Dramatic Literature to the Death of Queen Anne. 2d ed., 1899. The chief reference work for the history of English drama. LANG, ANDREW: The Making of Religion. 2d ed. 1900. Interesting but not always scientific. CUSHMAN, W. L.: The Devil and the Vice in English Dramatic Lit- erature before Shakespeare. 1900. " In Studien zur englischen Philologie," VI. A standard work. BOULTON, W. B. : Amusements of Old London. Survey of the Sports, Playhouses, etc., from the 17th to the Beginning of the 19th Century, 2 vols. London, 1900. GROOS, K.: The Play of Man. Transl. E. L. Baldwin, 1901. To be read with Frazer's "Golden Bough." JUSSERAND, J.: Les Sports etjeux d"exercice dans Vancienne France. Paris, 1901. GUMMERE, F. B.: The Beginnings of Poetry. 1901. To be read with Frazer's " Golden Bouph." RHYS, J.: Celtic Folk-lore; Welsh and Manx. 2 vols. 1901. Dependable. 288 BIBLIOGRAPHY I DRAKE, A. S.: Book of New England Legends and Folk-lore. 1901. GOMME, G. L., ed.: The Gentleman's Magazine Library. Boston, n. d. See vols. entitled: Popular Superstitions; English Traditional Lore; Mummers and Customs; Dialects, Proverbs and Word-lore. SCHELLING, F. E. : The English Chronicle Play. New York, 1902. Very useful. Table of extant plays on subjects partly or wholly from English history. DAWSON, W. F.: Christmas. Its Origin and Associations. 1902. The best of the popular books on Christmas. Describes 19 centuries of customs. VAUX, J. E.: Church Folk-lore. 2d ed. 1902. GREG, W. W. : A List of Masques, Pageants, etc. Supplementary to a list of English plays. London, 1902. Printed for the Bibliographical Society. CHAMBERS, E. K.: The Mediaeval Stage. 2 vols. Oxford, 1908. This book is indispensable to all students of English festival origins. Prefixed to vol. I is a detailed bibliography. EINSTEIN, LEWIS: The Italian Renaissance in England. New York, 1908. Excellent account of Italian influence on drama. GAYLEY, C. M.: Representative English Comedies. 3 vols. 1908- 1914. The introduction on the growth of comedy is excellent. HEYWOOD, W.: Polio and Ponte. An account of the sports of central Italy from the age of Dante to the 2oth century. London, 1904. Interesting account of mediaeval festivals and their modern survival. LE BRAZ, A.: The Land of Pardons. Transl. F. M. Gostling. 1 11 us. London, 1906. NILSSON, MARTIN: Griechische Feste von religioser Bedeutung, mil Ausschluss der attischen. Leipzig, 1906. ORIGINS 289 L/LNEHAM, R.: Robert Laneham's Letter describing a part of the entertainment unto Queen Elizabeth at the Castle of Kenilworth in 1575. Ed. F. J. Fumivall, Shake. Library, 1907. Reprinted from ed. of 1821. The source of Sir Walter Scott's description in "Kenilworth." CURTIS, N.: The Indians' Book. An offering of American Indians of Indian lore, musical and narrative. New York, 1907. Useful material. TUNISON, J. S. : Dramatic Traditions of the Dark Ages. 1907. A specialist's book. ANON.: The Pageants of Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick. Oxford, 1908. The Roxburghe Club. STOW: Survey of London. Ed. by C. L. Kingsford. a vols. Oxford, 1908. Accounts of pageants and triumphs in pre-Elizabethan London. HARRISON: Description of England. Part IV. Ed. by F. J. Fumivall, with additions by Mrs. C. C. Slopes. 1908. Contains interesting matter bearing on English life and customs at the close of the i6th and beginning of the 1 7th centuries. SCHELLTNG, F. E.: Elizabethan Drama, 1558-1642. 2 vols. 1908. An excellent general account. KUCK, E., and SOHNREY, H.: Feste und Spiele des deutschen Land- volks. Berlin, 1909. THOMAS, W. I.: A Source Book for Social Origins. Chicago, 1909. Full bibliographies. GAYLEY, C. M.: Plays of our Forefathers, and some of the traditions on which they were founded. New York, 1909. All of Gayley's books are excellent. RIDGEWAY, WILLIAM: The Origin of Tragedy with Special Reference to the Greek Tragedians. Cambridge, 1910. Illus. GRAY, J. H.: The Roman Theatre. London, 1910. A good description. LAWSON, J. C.: Greek Folk-lore and Religion. London, 1910. 290 BIBLIOGRAPHY II SHORT, JOSEPHINE H.: Oberammergau. New York, 1910. A description of village, performers, and performances of 1900 and 1910. BROOKE, C. F. T.: The Tudor Drama. Boston, 1911. SPENCER, M. L.: Corpus Christi Pageants in England. New York, IQII. JAGGARD, WILLIAM: Shakespeare Bibliography. Stratford-on- Avon, 1912. List of books relating to all aspects of the Shakespearean drama. HARRISON, JANE: Ancient Art and Ritual. New York, 1918. An excellent little book. CORNFORD, F. M.: The Origin of Attic Comedy. London, 1914. Bibliography. Synopses of extant plays. NETTLETON, G. H. : English Drama of the Restoration and Eighteenth Century, 1642-1780. New York, 1914. HAVEMEYER, LOOMIS : The Drama of Savage Peoples. New Haven, Conn., 1916. Contains much material not readily accessible elsewhere. Bibliography. II RECENT BOOKS ON PAGEANTRY BATES, E. W. : Pageants and Pageantry. With an introduction by William Orr. Boston, n. d. [1912]]. Bibliography. CHUBB, PERCIVAL, and OTHERS: Festivals and Plays in School and Elsewhere. 1912. LANGDON, W. C. ; Suggestions for the Celebration of the Fourth of July by Means of Pageantry. Russell Sage Foundation, Recreation Div., Pamphlet No. n4, 1912. CRAIG, A. A. T.: The Dramatic Festival. New York, 1912. TANNER, VIRGINIA: The Pageant of the Little Town of X. 1914. MACKAYE, P. W.: The Civic Theatre. New York, 1912. NEEDHAM, MRS. MARY M.: Folk Festivals. Their growth and how to give them. New York, 1912. ARTICLES FROM PERIODICALS ON PAGEANTRY 291 MACKAYE, P. W.: The Playhouse and the Play, and other ad- dresses concerning the theater and democracy in America, igi3. DAVOL, R.: Handbook of American Pageantry. Taunton, Mass., 1914. WITHINGTON, ROBERT: A Manual of Pageantry. Bloomington, Indiana, 1914. DICKINSON, THOMAS H.: The Case of American Drama, Boston, I9i5. Contains chapters on pageantry. HATCHER, O. L.: A Book for Shakspeare Plays and Pageants. New York, 1916. BULLETINS OF THE AMERICAN PAGEANT ASSOCIATION. These appear at frequent intervals and may be obtained, upon request, from Mary Porter Beegle, Secretary, Barnard College, New York City. Ill GENERAL ARTICLES FROM PERIODICALS ON PAGEANTRY MORRIS, MAY: Pageantry and the Masque. J. Soc. Arts. 50:70, 1908. MICHELSON, A. M.: Two Historic Pageants. Craftsman, 9:857, 1908. ANON.: English Pageants. Macmillan's, 92:425, 1905. ANON.: Place of Pageantry in National Thought. Spectator, 92:81, 1905. PARKER, Louis N.: Historical Pageants. J. Soc. Arts, 54: 1^2, 1906. SIEVEKING, I. G.: English Pageants of the Streets. Antiquary, n. s., 42:464, 1906. TURNBULL, G.: English Historical Pageants. World's Work, 15:9659-74, Dec. 1907. MAXWELL, G.: Revival of the Folk-drama. Nineteenth Century, 62: 925-34, Dec. 1907. 292 BIBLIOGRAPHY III MACKAYE, PERCY: American Pageants and their Promise. Scrib- ner's, 46: 28-34, July, 1909. ANON.: A Children's Pageant. Living Age, 262:49-62, July 3, 1909. ANON.: Pastoral Players. Theatre, 8: 32O, Dec. 1908. ROBERTS, MARY F.: The Value of Outdoor Plays to America. Craftsman, i6:49i-5o6, Aug. 1909. Westchester County (N. Y.) historical pageant described. BJORKMAN, F. M.: A Nation Learning to Play. A summer of patriotic pageants. World's Work, Sept. 1909. ANON.: Outdoor Plays. Current Literature. 47:3i2-5, Sept. 1909. EARLE, A. M.: Bath and its Pageant. Book News, 28:92-5, Oct. 1909. HARD, W. : Historical Pageant of Illinois as given at Northwestern University. Outlook, 94: 182-90, Jan. 22, 1910. ANON.: Bryn Mawr May Day Revels. Outlook, 96: 108-12, May 21, 1910. MACKAYE, H. : Outdoor Plays and Pageants; a sketch of the move- ment in America. Independent, 68: 1227-34, June 2, 1910. OBERHOLTZER, E. P. : Historical Pageants in England and America. Century, 48: 416-27, July, 1910. CHHDS, HARRIET L.: Old Deerfield Historical Pageant. Survey, 24: 66i-3, Aug. 1910. ANON.: Peterborough, N. H., Memorial Pageant, Aug. 1910. Book- man, 32: 116, Oct. 1910. ANON.: Drama in the Open. Current Literature, 49:201-4, Aug. 1910. WHITE, EVA W.: Pantomime in a Neighborhood Park. Survey, 24:66o-i, Aug. 6, 1910. ANON.: The Masque of Arcadia. Detroit, Mich. Handicraft, 3: 202-11, Sept. 1910. ANON.: Pageant of the British Army at FuUiam Palace. World To-day, 19: 996-9, Sept. 1910. ARTICLES FROM PERIODICALS ON PAGEANTRY 293 ANON.: Pageants. Academy, 79: 497~$, Nov. 19, 1910. BROWN, F. C.: First American Civic Pageant "Cave life to city life." Boston. Theatre, i3: 43-5, IX. Feb. ign. MACKAYE, HAZEL: Peterborough, N. H., Pageant. Drama, No. i: 336-47, Feb. 1911. ANON.: Shakespeare Festival, Stratford-on-Avon. Windsor Mag. 33:727-44. May, ign. GREEN, A.: The Festival of Empire. London. Windsor Mag. 34: 100-8, June, ign. BREWSTER, MARY K.: The Northampton Pageant. N. Y. Dram. 65: 8-9, June i4, ign. ANON.: Pageant of Spring. Detroit, Mich. Handicraft, 4: ng-23, July, ign. WAYNE, F.: The Taunton Pageant. National Mag. 34:735-8. Sept. ign. HOLT, Constance: Woodstock, Conn., Pageant. Independent, 7: 5i8-22, Sept. 7, 1911. DUMONT, H.: Carmel, Cal., Pageant. National Mag. 35: i5i-6, Oct. ign. LORD, KATHERINE: Thelford, Vt., Pageant. Sub. Life, i3: 263-5, Nov. ign. LEES, DOROTHY N.: The "sacre rappresentazioni" of Florence (Mediaeval.) Mask, 4: 219-49, Jan. 1912. BEARD, ADELIA B.: The American Pageant. Am. Homes, 9: 23g- 4i, July, 1912. DAVOL, R. : The Pageant as a Popular Form of Holiday Celebration. New Eng. Magazine, n. s., 48: 342-5, Sept. 1912. FIELD, B.: Gamut Club's Sy Ivan Gambol. Los Angeles. Overland, n. s., 60: 289-94, Sept. 1912. ANON.: Modern Pageants Not Spontaneous. Nation, g5: 245-6, Sept. 12, 1912. HARRINGTON, HELEN: Poetic Drama and Pageantry. Overland, n. s., 60: 4og-i8, Nov. 1912. LANGDON, W. C.: The Philadelphia Historical Pageant. Survey, 29: 2i5-i8, Nov. 23, 1912. 294 BIBLIOGRAPHY III BAKER, G. P.: American Pageantry and Its Proper Development. Art and Progress, 4: 83i-5, Jan. 1918. STUART, E. R. : Newer Aspects of Pageantry. New Eng. Magazine, 48: 54o-3, Jan. 1918. BROWN, F. C.: The American Pageant Association. Drama, No. 9: 178-88, Feb. 1918. ANON. : Selective List of Books on Pageants. Drama, No. 10: 288-4 i, May, 1918. ANON. : The Pageant as a Form of Propaganda. Current Opinion, 55: 82, July, 1918. HIRSCH, S. M.: The Pageant Drama Revived. Review of Reviews, 48: 328-33, Sept. 1918. WADE, H. T.: What the Pageant does for Local History. Review of Reviews, 48: 828-88, Sept. 1918. BRANFORD, V.: Modern Pageants and the Greek Theatre. Forum, 5i: 217-81, Feb. 1914. LANGDON, W. C.: New York Conference on Pageantry. Drama, No. i4: 807-1 5, May, 1914. ANON.: May Day Pageant at Bryn Mawr. Outlook, 107: i47~8, 160, May 28, 1914. DAVOL, R. : Pageantry as a Fine Art. Art and Progress, 5 : 299-808, June, 1914. FARWELL, A.: Community Music Drama. Will our people in time help us to develop the real American theater? Craftsman, 26: 4i8-a4, July, I9i4. DICKINSON, T. H.: Rise of Pageants and their Recent History. Play Book, i: 3-3 1, Sept. 1914- CLARK, L. A.: Pageants and Local History. His. Teach. M. 5: 287-8, Nov. I9i4- NAYLOR, E. H.: Christmas Eve in the City. Am. City, n: 442-7, Dec. 1914. El Drama de la Mision. Bulletin Pan- American Union, 4o: 242-9, Feb. 1915. SMITH, L. R.: Fairy Tale Pageant. Musician, 20: 34 1-2, May, IQl5. OPEN-AIR THEATRES 295 ANON.: Lexington Pageant. New Eng. Mag., n. s., 53:38-4o, May, igi5. ANON.: Lexington's Peace Pageant. Outlook, no:499-5oo, June 3o, 19 15. CRAIG, A. T. : Poetic Theme in the Modern Pageant. Forum, 54 : 349-55, Sept. igi5. SMITH, MRS. M. P.: Peace Pageant. Am. City, i3: 334~7, Oct. 16, igi5. IV OPEN-AIR THEATRES BOISSIER, GASTON: Ancient Theatre at Orange. Living Age, 222: 498-564, 1898. ANON.: Revival of the Open-air Theatre. Am. Arch. 90: 61, 1906. RUSTIN, H. H.: Presenting Outdoor Plays. House Beautiful, 24: i3-i5, June, 1908. CRAIG, GORDON: Open-air Theatres. Mask, 2:90-1, Oct. 1909. WACHLER, E.: Die Freilichtbiihne. Betrachtungen Uber das Problem des Volkstheaters unter freien Himmel. Berlin, 1909. SHEPSTONE, J.; Theatre in Rock Hewn City of Petra. Sci. Am. 102: 220, Mar. 12, 1910. ANON.: Copenhagen, Denmark. The New Open-air Theatre. 111. Graphic, 23: 175, July 3o, 1910. World's Work (London), 16: 3i5-i6, Aug. 1910. SAVITS, JOCZA: Das Naturlheater. Mit besond. Beriicksicht. der Naturtheater im Thale am Harz u. in Hertenstein bei Luzern, Munich, 1910. ANON.: California Grove Plays of the Bohemian Club. Drama, No. i: i3i-5, Feb. 1911. MERINGTON, MARGUERITE: Village Players: and erery community producing its own plays. World's Work (London), 17: a54~6o, Feb. 1911. STOLL, H. F.: Notable Open-air Tfiealres in America. Theatre, i4: 18-22, VI, July, 1911. 296 BIBLIOGRAPHY IV EDWABDOWTTCH, E.: Play in the Open air. Mask, 4:8-io, July, 1911. BUDD, KATHERINE C.: Every Lawn a Theatre. World's Work, 22: 14927-89, Oct. 1911. JOHNSTON, W. : Out-door Plays at Skansen [near Stockholm]. Theatre, i5: 66, Feb. 1912. HUME, S.: Greek Theatre; its use and abuse. Sunset, 29: 199-206, July, 1912. ANON.: A Woodland Theatre at Riverdale-on-Hudson. Theatre, 16: 9, July, 1912. ANON.: Bohemian Club's Plays in a Redwood Forest. Theatre, 16: i48, Nov. 1912. [_Picture~\: Theatre Made of Living Trees, near Sottegem, Belgium. Theatre, 16: i58, Nov. 1912. WILLIAMS, M.: The Forest Theatre at Carmel, California. Theatre, 16: i85, Dec. 1912. PIERCE, LUCY F. : Development of Out-door Drama. Drama, No. n : 127-87, August, 1918. STOLL, H. F.: California Mission Theatre. Theatre, 17: i53, May, 1918. ANON. : The Open-air Theatre. What it is, its social aspects, types, and use. Play Book, i: 1-82, June, 1918. WEIRTEH, L.: Open-air Theatre near Prague. Graphic, 88: i56, July 26, 1918. Row, A.: Open-air Theatres in America. Harp. W. 58: 21, Oct. 4 1918. HUBBARD, H. V.: Italian Garden Theatres. Landscape Arch. 4: 53-65, Jan. 1914. ROBERTSON, R.: Tuscan Garden Theatres. Plans. Arch. Q. Harv. 2: 65-72, Mar. 1914. TABOR, Grace: Making a Garden Theatre. House and G. 25: 874-6, 899-408, May, 1914. ANON. : Greek Theatre, Brookside, Mi. Kisco, New York. Harper's Bazar, 49: 24-5, Aug. 1914. CHENEY, S.: Garden Theatres. Country Life, 27: 43-5, Mar. ENGLISH MASQUES 297 GRAY, E. T.: Forest Theatre at Carmel-by-the-Sea, Cat. St. Nicholas Mag. 2: 570-1, April, 191 5. HACKETT, F.: Open-air Performances. New Republic, 3: 162, June 12, 1916. V ENGLISH MASQUES KENT, WILLIAM: The Designs of Inigo Jones. London, 1727. CUNNINGHAM, P.: A Life of Inigo Jones. Shakespeare Soc. London, i848. Both works on Inigo Jones are valuable. SOERGEL, A.: Die Englischen Maskenspiele. Halle, 1882. EVANS, HERBERT ARTHUR : English Masques. London, 1898. An account of their origin, a list of the extant published masques, and several specimen texts from Samuel Daniel to Sir William Davenant, covering typical examples. The best work in English on this subject. BROTANEK, RUDOLF: Die Englischen Maskenspiele. Vienna, 1902. The standard German work. CASTELAEV, M.: BenJonson: rHommeetrCEuvre. Paris, 1907. Bibliography and account of Jonson's masques. REYHER, PAUL: Les Masques Anglais: etude sur les ballets et la vie de cour en Angleterre (i5ia-i64o). Paris, 1909. A minute and accurate work containing full bibliographies, quotations from sources, outlines and lists of masques and ballets. Exceedingly valu- able for the practical and historical study of these types of dramatic art. LAWRENCE, W. J.: The Elizabethan Playhouse, and other studies. Stratford-on-Avon. 1912. See chapter on The Mounting of Carolan Masques. The whole book is worth careful study. For PASTORAL DRAMA see tedion XXII. VI DRAMATIC TECHNIQUE LESSING, G. E. : Hamburgische Dramaturgie. 2 vols., Hamburg 1767-68. Am ed., New York, 1901. By no means obsolete in its general critical principles. 298 BIBLIOGRAPHY VI BULWER-LYTTON: Laws Affecting Dramatic Literature. In Speeches, vol. V., i. FRENZEL, KARL: Berliner Dramaturgic. 2 vols. Hanover, 1877. BULTHAUPT, HEINRICH: Dramaturgic der Classiker, Oldenburg, 2 vols., 1882-8. Vol. i: Lessing, Goethe, Schiller, Kleist; vol. 2: Shakespeare. PROLSS, R.: Katechismus der Dramaturgie. Leipzig, ad ed. 1890. lst. ed. 1877] An academic point of view, but a useful book. JEROME, JEROME K.: Playwriting. London, 1888. R'p't'd. from The Stage. BERGER, A. VON: Dramaturgische Vortrdge. Vienna, 1890-1. HENNEQUIN, ALFRED: The Art of Playwriting. Boston, 1891. This has long been a standard book. ARCHER, FRANK: How to Write a Good Play. London, 1892. Emphasis on mechanical structure. PRICE, W. T.: The Technique of the Drama, New York, 1892. BULTHAUPT, H.: Dramaturgie des Schauspiels. Oldenburg, 3 vols., 1894-1905. Vol. i: Lessing, Goethe, Schiller, Kleist; vols. 2 and 3: Grillparzer, Hebbel, and others, and a discussion of the development of German dramatic technique down to the date of issue. A scholarly work. Critical viewpoint interesting. FREYTAG, GUSTAV: The Technique of the Drama. Transl. from the 6th German ed. by Elias J. MacEwan. Chicago, 1896. New ed. 1908. For a long time the standard authority. POLTI, GEORGES: Les Trente-six Situations Dramaiiques. Paris, 1895. An attempt to classify and analyze all the dramatic situations. MEREDITH, GEORGE: An Essay on Comedy, and the Uses of the Comic Spirit, New York, 1897. Indispensable. WOODBRIDGE, ELIZABETH: The Drama, its Law and Technique. Boston, 1898. Founded on academic principles. Useful. DRAMATIC TECHNIQUE 299 WAGNER, RICHARD: Opera and Drama. Am. ed., New York, 1898. SPIELHAGAN, FRIEDRICH: Neue Beitrdge zur Theorie and Technik der Epik and Dramatik. In vol. XIV of Sdmmtliche Werke, Leipzig, 1898. FAGUET, E. : Drome ancien; drome moderne. Paris, 1898. AVONIANUS [pseud, of Dr. Robert HesserT): Dramatische Hand- werkslehre. 2d ed., Berlin, 1902. One of the best and most stimulating of the German books. MATTHEWS, BRANDER: The Development of the Drama. New York, 1908. Repays careful study HARLAN, W.: Schule des Lustspiels. Berlin, 1908. ZABEL, E. : Zur Modernen Dramaturgic, Studien und Kritiken. Leipzig, 1906. ad ed. Orig. ed. 1908. LESSING, THEODOR: Theater-Seele. Studien uber Buhnendsthetik und Schauspielkunst. Berlin, 1907. A discussion of the psychology of acting and audience, as well as a forecast of the theater of the future. Stimulating. SAVTTS, JOCZA: Von der Absicht des Dramas. Dramaturgische Betrachtgn. liber die Reform der Szene, namentlich im Hin- blick auf die Shakespearebiihne in Miinchen. Munich, 1908. Savits is one of the leaders in the new movement in Germany. VAUGHN, C. E.: Types of Tragic Drama. New York, 1908. Popular criticism and analysis. PRICE, W. T.: Analysis of Play Construction and Dramatic Prin- ciple. New York, 1908. Mainly devoted to the "well-made" play. THORNDIKE, ASHLEY H.: Tragedy. New York, 1908. An excellent book. SCHLAG, HERMANN: Das Drama. Wesen, Theorie und Technik des Dramas. Essen, 1909. An interesting, if somewhat dogmalir, book. HENDERSON, A.: The Evolution of Dramatic Technique. North Am. Rev. 189: 428-44, Mar. 1909. 300 BIBLIOGRAPHY VI MACKAYE, PERCY: The Playhouse and the Play. Boston, 1909. Suggestive. PERGER, A.: System der dramalische Teknik. Berlin, 1909. MATTHEWS, BRANDER: A Study of the Drama. Boston, 1910. Of great value to all drama students. BURGER, MAX: Dromaturgisches. Leipzig, 1910. HAMILTON, CLAYTON: The Theory of the Theatre. New York, 1910. BERGER, A.: Meine Hamburgische Dramaturgic. Vienna, 1910. STRINDBERG, A. : Dramaturgic. Transl. into German by E. Scher- ing. Munich, 1911. CRAIG, GORDON: On the Art of the Theatre. Chicago, 1912. An indispensable although not a practical book. HUNT, ELIZABETH: The Play of To-day. Studies in Structure. New York, 1918. GALSWORTHY, JOHN: The New Spirit in the Drama. In the Hibbert Journal, April, 1918. Vol. XI, No. 3, p. 5o8. Explains the point of view of the intellectual school. COURNOS, J.: Gordon Craig and the Theatre of the Future. In Poetry and Drama, vol. I, pp. 338-4o, Sept. igiS. LOHMEYER, WALTHER: Die Dramaturgic der Massen. Mit 4 Buhnenplanen. Berlin and Leipzig, igiS. A very useful book. ARMSTRONG, CECIL F. : The Dramatic Author's Companion. With an introduction by Arthur Bourchier. London, 1913. COOMARASWAMY, A.: Indian Dramatic Technique. Mask 6: 109-28, Oct. igiS. ARCHER, WILLIAM: Play-making: a Manual of Craftsmanship. Boston, 1913. New ed. 1914- The best book in English. HAMILTON, CLAYTON: Studies in Stage Craft. New York, 1914. Covers a wide range of topics. ANTHONY, LUTHER B.: Dramatology: a Manual of Craftsmanship. Easton, Pa., 1914. Reduces the art of plavwriting to a logical formula. DRAMATIC TECHNIQUE 301 BOOTH, WILLIAM STONE: A Practical Guide for Authors and Play- wrights. Boston, 1914. BAKER, GEORGE PIERCE: The Technique of the Drama. Boston. "Intended for those who hope to write plays." [Not yet published.] SHIPMAN, Louis EVAN : The True Adventures of a Play. New York, 1914. An amusing account of the intervals between writing and producing a play. BRUNETIERE, F. : The Law of the Drama, with an introduction by Henry Arthur Jones. New York, 1914. Publ. of Columbia University Dramatic Museum. A useful critical and technical book on the "conflict theory" of drama. For a refutation of this theory, see William Archer's " Play-making." HOWARD, BRONSON: The Autobiography of a Play, with an intro- duction by Augustus Thomas. New York, 1914. Publ. of Columbia University Dramatic Museum. PINERO, SIR ARTHUR WING: Robert Louis Stevenson as a Drama- tist, with an introduction by Clayton Hamilton. New York, 1914. Publ. of Columbia University Dramatic Museum. Pinero's distinction between the "tactics" and the "strategy" of play- making is worth noting. CANNON, FANNY: Writing and Selling a Play. New York, 1915. Contains a bibliography and scenarios. Excellent for its commercial suggestions. PALMER, JOHN: Comedy. New York, n. d. [1915?] ANDREWS, CHARLTON: Technique of Play-writing. Springfield, Mass., 1915. A "working guide of theory and practice." Home Correspondence School. 302 BIBLIOGRAPHY VII VII HISTORICAL CRITICISM AND TECHNIQUE [A general reading lisf] Classic ARISTOTLE : Poetics. Text and transl. by S. H. Butcher, London, 1896. The/on* el origo of dramatic theory and criticism. HORACE: Art of Poetry. In A. S. Cook's The Art of Poetry. The poetical treatises of Horace, Vida, and Boileau with the trans- lations by Howes, Pitt, and Soame. Boston, 1892. England to 1850. SMITH, G. GREGORY: Elizabethan Critical Essays. 2 vols. Oxford, 1904. These are a collection of English critical texts of Elizabeth's day on the art of poetry and drama the whole forming an indispensable reference book lor students of dramatic theories. Excellent introduction and notes. LODGE, THOMAS: A Defence of Poetry, Music, and Stage Plays. 1579. R'p't'd. in Publ. Shake. Soc. i853; and in Lodge's Complete Works, ed. E. Gosse, Glasgow, 1878-82. The Elizabethan stage defended against the Puritans by an actor. Valuable for local information about the stage. STUBBES, PHILIP: The Anatomic of Abuses. i583. R'p't'd. ed. by F. J. Furnivall, in New Shake. Soc. Publ. 1877. This is one of the most virulent in the long list of Puritan stage attacks. It is, however, a mine of information on the Elizabethan theatre and stage. JONSON, BEN: Timber, or Discoveries. Ed. F. E. Schelling, Boston, 1892. Jonson's theory of drama expounded in considerable detail. See also the dedications, prologues, or inductions to his plays, notably: "Every Man in his Humour;" "Every Man Out of his Humour;" "Vol- pone;" "Cynthia's Revels;" "The Alchemist;" "Bartholomew Fair;" "The Magnetic Lady;" Act V of the "New Inn;" "The Poetaster;" "Sejanus;" "Epiccene, or the Silent Woman;" "The Staple of News;" "Masque of Hymen;" "Love's Triumphs;" and "Masque of Queens." HISTORICAL CRITICISM AND TECHNIQUE 303 BACON, SIR FRANCIS: The Advancement of Learning. i6o5. See Bk. II for the general relations of poetry and art. Essay es or Counsels Civill and Morall, see Essay XXXVII, "Of Masques and Triumphs." SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAM: Hamlet, II, ii; III, i. Henry V, Choruses. Winter s Tale, Time as Chorus. MILTON, JOHN: Preface to Samson Agonistes. A defence of tragedy based upon Italian principles. DRYDEN, JOHN: Essays. Ed. W. P. Ker. Oxford, 1900. This volume contains Dryden's principal essays on dramatic theory. SPINGARN, J. E.: Seventeenth Century Critical Essays. 2 vols. A collection similar to Gregory Smith's Elizabethan Essays, and equally valuable. RAPIN, RENE DE: Reflections on Aristotle's Treatise of Poesie, etc. Trans. T. Rymer, 1674. Of great influence on eighteenth-century dramatic theory in England. COLLIER, JEREMY: A Short View of the Profaneness and Immorality of the English Stage. 1698. A scathing denunciation of Restoration comedy. FARQUHAR, GEORGE: A Discourse upon Comedy. In Belles- Lettres Series. Boston, 191^. POPE, ALEXANDER : An Essay on Criticism. 1711. The Dunciad. 1728. ADDISON, JOSEPH: On Tragedy. Spectator, 89, 4o, 4a, 44, 45; On Wit, Spectator 58-63 ; -Sir Roger at the Theatre, Spectator, 335; On the Pleasures of the Imagination, Spectator, 4ii-4ai. STEELE, RICHARD: Prologues to The Funeral and The Conscious Lovers. JOHNSON, SAMUEL: Tragi-comedy. Rambler, i56. Preface to his edition of Shakespeare. His comments on stage illusion and the unities in the preface are excellent. An Apology for the Life of Colley Cibber, 1740. R'p't'd. ed. R. W. Lowe. 2 vols. London, 1889. For details of the stage of his period. 304 BIBLIOGRAPHY VIII CHURCHILL, CHARLES: The Rosciad. 1761. R'p't'd. 1768 with additions. Ed. R. W. Lowe, London, 1891. SHERIDAN, RICHARD BRINSLEY: The Critic. Everyman edition. Burlesque of tragedy. SCOTT, SIR WALTER: Essays on Chivalry, Romance and the Drama. COLERIDGE, S. T. : Literary Remains. Ed. H. N. Coleridge, 4 vols. London, i836-3g. Vol. II, pp. 12-53, Drama. Vol. IV on Shakespeare. HAZLITT, W.: Characters of Shakespeare's Plays, 1817; English Poets, 1818; English Comic Writers, 1819; Dramatic Lit- erature of the Reign of Elizabeth, 1821. A View of the English Stage. HUNT, LEIGH: Dramatic Essays. Ed. Wm. Archer and R. W. Lowe, London, 189^. LAMB, CHARLES: Dramatic Essays. Ed. Brander Matthews. New York, 1891. MACAULAY, T. B. : Critical and Historical Essays contributed to the Edinburgh Review. i843. See Comic Dramatists of the Restoration a reply to Charles Lamb's essay on the same subject. Macaulay's appeared Jan. i84i. VIII France (For an excellent summary and account of Italian Renaissance dramatic theories, which are the sources, together with Aris- totle and Horace, of French theories, see SPINGAHN, J. E.: The Early Renaissance.) CORNEILLE, PIERRE: De rUtilite et des parties du poeme dramatique; De la Tragedie; and Des Trois Unites. Paris, 1660. In (Euvres, vol. I. Paris, 1862. See also the Examens prefixed to his plays. HISTORICAL CRITICISM AND TECHNIQUE 305 SAINT-EVREMOND: The critical material will be found in vol. II of Giraud's edition of (Euvres melees de Saint-Evremond. 3 vols. Paris, i865. Discusses French and English drama, the theory of tragedy, the opera, etc. BOILEAU: UArt poetique. 1674. Ed. D. Nichol Smith, Cam- bridge. 1898- Boileau's critical poem had a profound influence upon French dramatic technique. RACINE, JEAN: (Euvres. Ed. Mesnard. Paris, 1 885-88. HEDELJN, FRANCOIS, ABBE D'AUBIGNAC: Le Pratique du theatre. 3 vols. Amsterdam, 1715. Written 1667. An interesting early work on dramaturgy long and complicated but repays reading. BOSSUET, J. B.: Maximes et Reflexions sur la comedie. 160,4. R'p't'd. ed. Gazier, Paris, 1881. Deals chiefly with Moliere. VOLTAIRE: Lettres sur les Anglais; Commenlaires sur Corneille; Melanges litteraires. ROUSSEAU, JEAN-JACQUES: De I 'Imitation thealrale. In (Euvres Completes, vol. Ill, pp. i83-igi; Lettre a D'Alembert [1758]. CAILHAVA, M. DE: [Jean F. Cailhava d'Estandoux]: De VArt de la comedie. 2 vols. Paris, 1786. DIDEROT, DENIS: De la poesie dramatique. In vol. VII, pp. 307- 3g4 of (Euvres completes, ed. J. Assizat. 20 vols. Paris, 1876-7. HUGO, VICTOR: Preface to Cromwell. [1828.] A manifesto in behalf of the romantic drama. IX HISTORICAL CRITICISM AND TECHNIQUE Germany LESSING, G. E.: Werke. 20 vols. in 12. Berlin, n. d. Vol. VI Laokoon. Vol. VII Hamburgische Dramaturgic. Vol. XI, pts. 1-2, Kleinere Schriften zur dramatischen Poesie. 306 BIBLIOGRAPHY X GOETHE, J. W. VON: Sdmmtliche Werke. 4o vols. in 20. Stuttgart, i84o. Vol. XXXV, pp. 333-45g, Theater und dramatische Poesie. See also his "Conversations with Eckermann." In Goethe's works, transl. by J. Oxenford, London, i8j5, vol. VI. His comments upon stage scenery are particularly interesting. SCHILLER, J. C. F.: The AZsthetical and Philosophical Essays. In vol. VIII of the Cambridge ed. of his Works. Transl., Boston, i884. Pp. 339-867, On the Stage and on Tragedy. HEGEL, G. W. F.: Vorlesungen iiber Asthetik. Die dramatische Poesie in Werke, vol. X, chap. 3. 18 vols. Berlin, i833-48. SCHLEGEL, A. W. VON: Lectures on Dramatic Art and Literature. Eng. transl. Bonn's Library. London, i846. Rev. ed. 1871 and 1876. HEBBEL, FRIEDRICH: Asthetische und dramaturgische Schriften. In Sdmmtliche Werke. Hamburg, i865. WAGNER, RICHARD: Prose Works. Transl. William Ashton Ellis. London, 1892. NIETZSCHE, FRIEDRICH: The Birth of Tragedy. Transl. William A. Haussmann. In vol. II of the Works, ed. by Dr. Oscar Levy. London, 1909. X A SELECTED LIST OF DRAMATIC CRITICISM [FROM 1800] English and American COLERIDGE, S. T.: Seven Lectures on Shakespeare and Milton. Ed. by J. Payne Collier. London, 1866. DONNE, WILLIAM B.: Essays on the Drama. London, i858. ARNOLD, MATTHEW: Preface to Merope, a tragedy. London, i858. This preface has not been reprinted. SELECTED LIST OF DRAMATIC CRITICISM 307 DORAN, JOHN: Their Majesties' Servants, or Annals of the English Stage. 2d ed. London, i865. R'p't'd. ed. by R. W. Lowe. London, 1888. FITZGERALD, PERCY: Principles of Comedy and Dramatic Effect. London, 1870. KNOWLES, J. S.: Lectures on Dramatic Literature, delivered . . . during the years 1820-1850. London, 1878. Privately printed. A rare book not very useful. SIMPSON, E.: Dramatic Unities in the Present Day. 2d ed., London, 1875. COOK, DUTTON: Book of the Play. 2 vols. London, 1876. Contains much valuable material. CARTERET-BISSON, F. S. DUMARESQ DE: The Drama as an Element of Education. London, 1882. COOK, DUTTON: Nights at the Play. 2 vols. London, i883. COOK, DUTTON: On the Stage. 2 vols. London, i883. ARCHER, WILLIAM: About the Theatre. London, 1886. TREE, SIR HERHERT BEERBOHM: Some Interesting Fallacies of the Modern Stage. London, 1892. WALKLEY, A. B.: Playhouse Impressions. London, 1892. HUNT, LEIGH: Dramatic Essays, with notes and an introduction by William Archer and Robert W. Lowe. London, 1894. MATTHEWS, JAMES BRANDER: Studies of the Stage. New York, 1894. JONES, H. A.: The Renascence of the English Drama. London, 1895. MEREDITH, GEORGE: An Essay on Comedy and Hie Uses of the Comic Spirit. New York, 1897. The most brilliant piece of modern dramatic criticism. FILON, AUGUSTIN: The English Stage. Transl. Frederic Whyte. London, 1897. An excellent book. An account of the Victorian drama. NIRDLINGER, CHARLES F.: Masques and Mummers. New York, 308 BIBLIOGRAPHY X HAPGOOD, NORMAN: The Stage in America, 1897-1900. New York, 1901. FELON, AUGUSTIN: Modern French Drama. London, 1898. Excellent. SCOTT, CLEMENT: The Drama of Yesterday and To-day. 2 vols. London, 1899. A defence of Victorian drama. Valuable for material relating to Irving. GREIN, J. T.: Dramatic Criticism. 5 vols. London, 1899-1905. One of the soundest of English critics. NIRDLINGER, C. F.: Masques and Mummers. Essays on the theatre of here and now. New York, 1899. Of little importance. GREIN, J. T.: Premieres of the Year. London, 1900. The new spirit in criticism. COURTNEY, W. L.: The Idea of Tragedy in Ancient and Modern Drama. With a prefatory note by A. W. Pinero. New York, 1900. SAINTSBURY, G.: History of Criticism. 3 vols. 1900-1904. , Summaries of all important works on dramatic theories. SYMONS, ARTHUR: Plays, Acting, and Music. London, igo3. MATTHEWS, JAMES BRANDER: The Development of the Drama. New York, 1902. STRANG, LEWIS C. : Players and Plays of the Last Quarter Century. Boston, 1903. ADAMS, WILLIAM D.: A Dictionary of the Drama. Vol. I, A-G (all published). London, 1904. HALE, E. E., JR.: Dramatists of To-day. New York, 1906. New ed., 1912. HUNEKER, JAMES G. : Iconoclasts, a book of dramatists. New York, 1906. HERMANN, OSCAR: Living Dramatists. New York, 1906. SHAW, GEORGE BERNARD: Dramatic Opinions and Essays. New York, 1906. MATTHEWS, JAMES BRANDEH: French Dramatists of the Nineteenth Century. New York, 1906. SELECTED LIST OF DRAMATIC CRITICISM 309 WARD, A. W., ED.: The Cambridge History of English Literature. 1907. (In progress.) Exceptionally valuable for dramatic bibliographies. MACCARTHY, D.: The Court Theatre, 1904-07. London, 1907. DARBYSHIRE, A.: Art of the Victorian Stage. Manchester, 1907. WALKLEY, A. B. : Drama and Life. New York, 1908. BORSA, MARIO: The English Stage of To-day. London, 1908. Transl. by Selwyn Brinton. EATON, W. P.: The American Stage of To-day. Boston, 1908. CAFFIN, CHARLES H. : The Appreciation of the Drama. New York, 1908. Contains some suggestive points. VAUGHN, C. E.: Types of Tragic Drama. New York, 1908. THORNDIKE, A. H. : Tragedy. In Types of Eng. Lit. Series, 1908. Repays careful study. ARCHER, WILLIAM, and BARKER, GRANVILLE: Scheme and Esti- mates for a National Theatre. London, 1908. MACKAYE, PERCY: The Playhouse and the Play. New York, 1909. BRADLEY, A. C. : Oxford Lectures on Poetry. 1909. HOWE, P. P.: The Repertory Theatre. London, 1910. An early survey of the new movement. EATON, W. P.: At the New Theatre and Others. Boston, 1910. HAMILTON, CLAYTON M.: The Theory of the Theatre. New York, 1910. Superficial but interesting. DUKES, ASHLEY: Modern Dramatists. London, 1911. SPENCE, E. F.: Our Stage and Us Critics. London, 1911. MONTAGUE, C. E.: Dramatic Values. London, 1911. A. valuable book. POLLARD, PERCIVAL: Masks and Minstrels of New Germany. Boston, 1911. HENDERSON, A.: Interpreters of Life and the Modern Spirit. New York, IQII. 310 BIBLIOGRAPHY X MONTAGUE, C. E. : The Literary Play. In Vol. II, p. 71, of Essays and Studies by Members of the English Association. Oxford, 1911. MOSES, MONTROSE J.: The American Dramatist. Boston, 1911. WALBROOK, H. M.: Nights at the Play. London, 1911. CARTER, HUNTLEY: The New Spirit in Drama and Art. London, 1912. A partial contribution to the new dramatic movement. YEATS, W. B.: The Cutting of an Agate. London, 1912. MACKAYE, PERCY: The Civic Theatre. New York, 1912. A plan for democratizing the drama. OLIVER, D. H.: The English Stage. London, 1912. A small handbook. ANDREWS, CHARLTON: The Drama To-day. Philadelphia, 1918. HART, JEROME: Sardou and the Sardou Plays. Philadelphia, 1918. JONES, H. A. : The Foundations of a National Drama. London, 1918. BURTON, RICHARD EUGENE: The New American Drama. New York, cop. 1918. HUNT, ELIZABETH R. : The Play of To-Day. New York, 1918. Superficial. HOWE, P. P.: Dramatic Portraits. New York, 1918. Amusing but prejudiced criticism. SPINGARN, J. E.: A Note on Dramatic Criticism. Oxford, 1918. In Essays and Studies by Members of the English Association, vol. IV. GREGORY, LADY: Our Irish Theatre. New York, 1918. STURGIS, GRANVILLE FORBES: The Influence of the Drama. New York, 1918. WEYGANDT, C.: Irish Plays and Playwrights. Boston, 1918. BOURGEOIS, M.: John Millington Synge and the Irish Theatre. New York, 1918. HENDERSON, ARCHIBALD: European Dramatists. Cincinnati, 1918. SECKER, MARTIN: Dramatic Portraits. London, 1918. SELECTED LIST OF DRAMATIC CRITICISM 311 PALMER, JOHN: The Theatre of the Future. London, 1918. GEORGE, W. L.: Dramatic Actualities. London, 1914. Instructive essays on various topics of the stage. CHENEY, SHELDON: The New Movement in the Theatre. New York, 1914. A useful book. Illustrations of modern scenery. CHANDLER, FRANK W.: Aspects of Modern Drama. New York, 1914. Analyses of two hundred and eighty plots. Bibliographies. CARTER, HUNTLEY: The Theatre of Max Reinhardt. New York, 1914. One of the few works in English on this German producer. HOWE, P. P.: Dramatic Portraits. New York, 1914. Critical sketches of modern English dramatists. GOLDMAN, EMMA: The Social Significance of the Modern Drama. Boston, nil 'i. Contains many excellent points. CLARK, BARRETT H.: The Continental Drama of To-day. New York, 1914. Bibliographies. MODERWELL, H. K.: The Theatre of To-day. Boston, 1914. One of the best American books on this subject. CLARK, BARRETT H.: British and American Drama of To-day. New York, I9i4- HAMILTON, CLAYTON: Studies in Stage-craft. New York, 1914. BURTON, RICHARD E.: How to See a Play. New York, 1914. DICKINSON, THOMAS H.: The Case of American Drama. New York, 1916. Also chaps, on The Theatre in the Open; Festivals and Pageantry. LEWISOHN, LUDWIG: The Modern Drama. An essay in interpre- tation. New York, 1916. 312 BIBLIOGRAPHY XI XI A SELECTED LIST OF DRAMATIC CRITICISM Modern French. ZOLA, MILE: Le Naturalisme au theatre. Paris, 3d ed., 1881. Theories and examples. GAUTIER, THEOPHILE: Souvenirs de theatre, d'art et de critique. Paris, i883. BRUNETIERE, FERDINAND: Etudes critiques sur Vhistoire de la litterature. Paris, 1886-1907. DARZENS, R.: Le Theatre-libre illustre. Paris, 1890. R. GALLET: UArl nouveau au theatre libre. Paris, 1890. Pamphlet. BRUNETIERE, FERDINAND: Introduction to Annales du theatre for the year 1893. Paris, 1893. Contains the statement of the "conflict theory" of drama. DUMAS, ALEXANDRE: Le drome de quatre-vingt-treize. 3 vols. Paris, 1896. MENDES, CATULLE: L'Art au theatre. 2 vols. Paris, 1896-97. 3d vol. 1900. FAGUET, $MTT.K: Drome ancien, drome moderne. Paris, 1898. FILON, AUGUSTTN: Modern French Drama. Transl. J. E. Hogarth. Intro. W. L. Courtney. London, 1898. (From Dumas to Rostand.) BRUNETIERE, FERDINAND: L' Evolution des genres dans Phistoire de la litterature. Paris, 1900. SARCEY, F.: Quarante Ans de Theatre. 8 vols. Paris, 1900-1902. (Feuilletons dramatiques.) CLARETIE, JULES: Profits de theatre. Paris, 1902. GLACHANT, P., and V.: I. Un Laboratoire dramaturgique. Essai critique sur le theatre de Victor Hugo. Les drames en prose, les drames epiques, les comedies lyriques, 1822-86. Paris, 1903. II. Les drames en vers, 1827-39. Paris, 1902. The first vol. is by P. Glachant alone the second, in collaboration. SELECTED LIST OF DRAMATIC CRITICISM 313 DUBOIS, H. P.: French Maxims of the Stage. London, 1902. LANSON, G.: Les Origines du drame contemporain. Nivelle de la Chaussee et la comedie larmoyante. Paris, 1908. FAGUET, E. : Propos de theatre. Paris, 1908. ROLLAND, R.: Le Theatre du peuple. Paris, 1904. Essai d'esthe- tique d'un theatre nouveau. LE ROY, A.: UAube du theatre romantique. Paris, 190^. FAGUET, E.: Propos de theatre. a e serie. Paris, 1906. LE RRAZ, A.: Le Theatre celtique. Paris, 1906. CAPUS, A. : Notre Epoque et le Theatre. Paris, 1906. THALASSO, A.: Le Theatre Libre, 1887-96. Paris, 1906. FAGUET, E.: Propos de theatre, 3 e serie. Paris, 1906. BRISSON, A.: Le Theatre et les Mceurs. Paris, 1907. There are seven volumes under the general title Le Theatre, 1907-1909. This is vol. I. FAGUET, E. : Propos de Theatre, (f s6rie. Paris, 1907. KAHN, A.: Le Theatre social en France. Paris, 1907. DOUMIC, R.: Le Theatre nouveau. Paris, 1908. SECHE, A., and BERTAUT, J.: L' Evolution du theatre contemporain. Paris, 1908. LORDE, A. DE: Theatre d'epouvante. Paris, 1909. GINISTY, P.: Le Melodrame. Paris, 1910. Illus. GUILLEMOT, J.: L 'Evolution de Videe dramatique de Corneille a Dumas fits. Paris, 1910. FAGUET, E.: Propos de theatre. 5 e ser. Paris, 1910. GADLLARD DE CHAMPRIS, H. : Augier et la comedie sociale. Paris, 1910. BETHLEEM, L. : f^es Pieces de theatre. ThSse et arguments. Paris, 1910. BORDEAUX, H.: La Vie au theatre. Paris, 1910. ERNEST-CHARLES J.: I^e Theatre des poetes, iSSo-igio. Paris, 1910. BOURGET, PAUL: Reflexions sur le theatre. In filudes el Portraits, vol. I. Paris, 1911. MELOTTE, P.: Essai sur le theatre futur. Paris, 1911. 314 BIBLIOGRAPHY XII BENOIST, ANTOINE: Le Theatre d"aujourd n hui. 2 vols. Paris, 1911-12. FALCONNET, L.: "Die Makkabaer" cTOtto Ludwig. Essai de renovation theatrale. Paris, 'igiS. PATOUILLET, J.: Ostrowski et son theatre de m&urs russes. Paris, 1918. XII A SELECTED LIST OF DRAMATIC CRITICISM Modern German HEBBEL, FRIEDRICH: Asthetische und dramaturgische Schriften. In Sdmmtliche Werke. Hamburg, i865. The new spirit in German drama begins with Hebbel. SCHLEGEL, A. W. VON: A Course of Lectures on Dramatic Art and Literature. Transl. J. Black. Rev. ed. by A. J. W. Morrison in Bonn's Standard Library. 1871. ist Ger. ed. 1809-11. KLAAR, A.: Das moderne Drama dargestellt in seinen Richtungen und Hauptvertretern. Leipzig, i883-. BAHB, HERMAN: Studien zur Kritik der Moderne. Frankfort on Main, 1894. STEIGER, EDGAR: Das Werden des neuen Dramas. 2 vols. Berlin, 1898. SPIELHAGEN, FRIEDR.: Neue Beitrdge zur Theorie und Technik der Epik und Dramatik. Leipzig, 1898. LESSING, THEODOR: Alte und Neue Schauspielkunst. 1899. A comparison of the new movement with the traditional. GOTTSCHALL, R. VON: Zur Kritik des modernen Dramas. Berlin, 1900. WETTBRECHT, C.: Das deutsche Drama. Grundziige seiner As- thetik. Berlin, 2d ed. 1908. HARLAN, W.: Schule des Lustspiels. Psychologic des Zuschauers. Berlin, 1908. SELECTED LIST OF DRAMATIC CRITICISM 315 NOSSIG, A.: Die Erneuerung des Dramas. Berlin, 1906. KIENZL, H. : Drama der Gegenwart. Graz, igo5. KERR, A. : Das neue Drama. Berlin, igo5. DEVRIENT, E.: Geschichte der deutschen Schauspielkunst. Berlin, igo5. HAGEMAN, C.: Aufgaben des Modernen Theaters. Leipzig and Berlin, 1906. LAUBE, H.: Theaterkritiken und dramaturgische Aufsdtze. 2 vols. Berlin, 1906. JACOBI, M. E.: Die Kulturwelt der Schaubtihne. Leipzig, 1907. Diss. TORINUS, V.: Goethe als Dramaturg. Leipzig, 1908. ARNOLD, ROBERT FRANZ: Das moderne Drama. Strassburg, 1908. WITKOWSKI, GEORG: The German Drama of the Nineteenth Cen- tury. Transl. by L. E. Horning. New York, 1910. POLLARD, PERCIVAL: Masks and Minstrels of New Germany. New York, 191 1. The latter two are popular studies of modern German dramatists. LOTHAR, R. : Das deutsche Drama der Gegenwart. Profusely illustrated. PETSCH, ROBERT: Deutsche Dramaturgic von Lessing bis Hebbel. Berlin, 1912. Small popular volume, but clear and explicit. MELITZ, LEO: Fuhrer durch das Schauspiel der Gegenwart. Illus. with photographs of scenes from modern plays. Berlin, 1918. Melitz's "guides" to things dramatic are very useful. See also his guide to operas and to operettas. Berlin, 1912. SCHLAIKJER, ERICH: Gegenwart und Zukunft der deulschen Schau- biihne. Stuttgart, 1912. A small pamphlet. SCHOLZ, WILHELM VON: Deutsche Dramaturgie. 3 vols. Munich, 1912-1914. FUCHS, GEORG: Schaubiihne der Zukunft. Munich, igi/i. In Das Theater, i5. 316 BIBLIOGRAPHY XIII LANDAU, P.: Mimen. Histor. Miniaturen. Berlin, igi4- BAB, J.: Nebenrollen. Ein dramaturg. Mikrokosmos. Berlin, XIII PRODUCTION AND SCENIC ART SERLIO, S. : Les Sept Livres de F Architecture. Printed i545. Transl. into French. Paris, n. d. Contains many detailed descriptions of staging, scenes, and mechanical devices of the early Italian stage. VASARI: Lives of the Painters. There are many descriptions scattered through its pages of scenes de- signed by Renaissance artists. SABATTINI: Practica di fabricar scene e machine nei theatri. Ra- venna, 1 638. TORELLI, JACQUES: Decorations et machines aprestees aux Nopces de Tetis. Paris, i654- Plates. RICCOBONI: Histoire du Theatre Italien. Paris, lySi. Contains technical descriptions of staging. ROUSSEAU, J.-J. : De 1 J Imitation thealrale. Essai tire des dialogues de Platon. Amsterdam, 176^. NOUGARET: De VArt du theatre en general. 2 vols. Paris, 1769. Comedy, tragedy, pastorals, parodies, operas and lyric dramas described. ROUBO: Traitt de la construction des theatres et des machines thed- trales. Paris, 1777. Plates. BOULLET: Essai sur fart de construire les theatres, leurs machines et lews mouvemenls. Paris, 1801. CHAMFORT, S. R. N.: Precis de I' art dramatique des anciens et des modernes. 2 vols. Paris, 1808. ist ed. Paris 1776. "Dic- tionnaire dramatique, "in collaboration with 1'Abbe deLaporte. The definitions are marked by logic and common-sense. A posthumous publication. GROBERT: De T execution dramatique consideree dans ses rapports avec le materiel de la salle et de la scene. Paris, 1809. Plates. PRODUCTION AND SCENIC ART 317 HAREL: Dictionnaire theatral, ou douze cent trente-trois verites sur les directeurs, regisseurs, acteurs, actrices . . .; confidences sur les precedes de F illusion, etc. Paris, 182^. ARISTIPPE [Felix Bernier]: Theorie de Part du comedien, ou manuel theatral. Paris, 1828. Strictly on acting, but interesting as illustrating a type of staging. SOLOME : Indications generates el observations pour la mise en scene de la "Muette de Portici." Paris, 1828. ROUSSEAU and RAISSON: Code theatral, physiologic des theatres, manuel complet de Fauteur, du directeur, etc. Paris, 1829. Satirical. ViOLLET-LE-Duc: Precis de dramatique, ou Fart de composer et executer les pieces de theatre. Paris, i83o. An excellent and much neglected book. Repays careful study. MORICE, SMILE: Histoire de la mise en scene depuis les Mysteres jusqua le Cid. Paris, i836. The author died before the work was completed and the rest of his manu- script notes have never been published. DONNET, ORGIAZZI, et KAUFFMANTV: Architeclonographie des theatres. 2 vols. Paris, i837~4o. DEVRIENT, EDUARD: Geschichte der deutschen Schauspielkunst. 5 vols. Leipzig, 18/18-74. A comprehensive work. PARIS, PAULJN: La mise en scene des Mysteres. Paris, 1860. SAND, MAURICE: Masques et Boujjons. 2 vols. Paris, 1869. The colored plates of the characters of Italian comedy are invaluable. GAUTIER, THEOPHILE: Histoire de Fart dramatique en France depuis 25 ans. 6 vols. Paris, i858-<). SAMSON, J. I.: UArt theatral. 2 vols. Paris, i865. Illus. R'p't'd. in i vol. 1889. Another ed. with intro. by M. Silvain, 1912. A poem. CELLER, LUDOVIC: I^es decors, les costumes, el la mise en scene au XV I T siecle. Paris, 1869. GARNIER, CHARLES: l^e Theatre. Paris, 1871. Mainly architectural. 318 BIBLIOGRAPHY XIII MOYNET, J. : UEnvers du theatre. Machines et decoration. Paris, 1878. Frequently quoted by Pougin in his dictionnaire. PERRIN, ^MILE: Lettre a M. Sarcey sur la mise en scene. Paris, 1880. Perrin was scene designer for the Comedie Francaise. BECQ DE FOUQUIERES, L.: UArt de la mise en scene. Essai d'esthetique. Paris, 1884. POUGIN, ARTHUR: Dictionnaire historique et pittoresque du theatre et des arts qui s'y rattachent. Paris, i885. An invaluable book. Contains full and rare illustrations. BEQUET, C. M. E.: Encyclopedic de 1'art dramatique. Paris, i885. VAUCAIRE, MAURICE: Effets de theatre. La scene et la salle. Le Ballet, etc. Paris, 1886. SAINT-SAENS, C.: Note sur les decors de theatre dans I'antiquite romaine. Paris, 1886. BAKER, S.: Guide to Theatrical Scene Painting in Distemper. London, 1889. GENEE, RUDOLPH: Die Entwicklung des szenischen Theaters und die Buhnenreform in Miinchen. 1889. Early symptom of the new movement. SCHLENTHER, PAUL: Genesis der Freien Biihne. Berlin, 1889. An account of the rise of the free stage in Berlin. BOURDON, G.: La Resurrection d'un art; le theatre grec moderne. Paris, 1892. GINISTY, PAUL: Choses et Gens de theatre. Paris, 1892. Ginisty is one of the "erudite" of the theatre, according to French critics. MOYNET, GEORGES: La Machinerie thedtrale. Trues et decors. Paris, 1898. Out of date, but useful. BAPST, G.: Essai sur Vhistoire du theatre. Paris, 1898. Indispensable. To be consulted constantly. LEFEVRE, J.: L'filectricite au theatre. Paris, 1894. Obsolete. See also a work of the same title by H. Wibrant. Paris, 1897. PRODUCTION AND SCENIC ART 319 MENDES, C.: UArt au theatre. 3 vols. Paris, 1895-1900. NAVARRE, OCTAVE: Dionysos. fitude sur 1'organisation materielle du theatre athenien. Paris, 1896. BOUCHOT, HENRI: Catalogue de dessins relatifs a I'histoire du theatre conserve audepartement desestampes de la Biblwtheque nationale. . . . Paris, 1896. There are also valuable collections of prints and theatrical material in the museum of the Paris Opera and at the Comedie Francaise. In America, the Dramatic Museum of Columbia University has important exhibits. LAUMANN, E. M.: La machinerie au theatre, depuis les Grecsjusqu'a nos jours. Paris, 1897. Unfortunately the book is not very detailed or accurate. GINISTY, PAUL: La Vie d'un theatre. Paris, 1898. Popular description of the technical side. APPIA, ADOLPHE: Die Musik und die Inscenierung. Munich, 1899. The book that began the revolution in scenic art. DAWSON, C. E.: Pastel Painting and Scene Painting. London, 1900. ADERER, ADOLPHE : Le Congres de fart theatral (Exposition univer- selle, 1900). Compte rendu des seances. Paris, 1902. Title is larger than the book. FERRARI, G.: La scenographia. Cerni storici. Milan, 1902. Contains many costume plates. HAGEMANN, CARL: Regie. Studien zur dramat. Kunst. Berlin, 1902. VITROUX, GEORGES: Le Theatre de I'avenir. Mise en scene, trues, decors. Paris, 1903. A strange but suggestive book. MANTZIUS, KARL: History of Theatrical Art. 7 vols. London, 1903. The best book of its kind that has so fnr appeared. Needed for constant reference. HAGEMANN, C.: Scfianspielkunst und Schauspielkiinstler. Beitriige zur Asthetik des Theaters. Berlin, 1903. 2d ed. 1910. 320 BIBLIOGRAPHY XIII HAGEMANN, CARL: Die Kunst der szen. Darstellung. Berlin, igo4- KAULFUSS-DIESCH, C. H. : Die Inscenierung des deutschen Dramas an der Ende des sechzehnten und siebzehnten Jahrhanderts. 1905. GOLDIN, H.: Stage Representation. Comprising Bioscopic effects. London, 1906. VITZTHUM VON ECKSTAEDT, COUNT B. E.: Enlwurfe fur Szenen Kostiime und Theater dekorationen, von E. G. Craig. Dresden, igo5. COHEN, GUSTAVE: Histoire de la mise en scene dans le theatre reli- gieuxfrangais du Moyen-Age. Paris, 1906. Interesting and valuable work. FITZGERALD, PERCY: Shakespearean Representation, its laws and limits. London, 1908. Not important. VAULABELLE, A. DE, and HEMARDINQUER, CH.: La Science au theatre. Paris, 1908. Out of date but contains interesting material. HANNSEN, HANNS: Beitrdge z. Technik d. Biihnenregiekunst. Leipzig, 1908. On the technical aspects of producing. SECHE, A., and BERTAUT, J.: UEvolution du theatre contemporain. Paris, 1908. Critical rather than practical, but included here for its study of ideas. FUCHS, GEORG: Die Revolution des Theaters. Munich and Leipzig, 1909- An important book on the principles of the new movement. NANSOUTY, MAX DE: Les trues du theatre, du cirque et de lafoire. Paris, 1909. Amusing but not important. ERLER, FRITZ: Ausstellung der Buhnenentwurfe (Faust, Hamlet). Munich, 1909. Brier's work is valuable. It is reviewed in " Mercure de France," Feb. i, 1910. LEGBAND, PAUL: Das deutsche Theater in Berlin. Munich, 1909. A symposium on the work of this theatre. PRODUCTION AND SCENIC ART 321 ALT, THEODOR: Das " Kiinstlertheater." Kritik der modernen Stilbewegg. in der Biihnenkunst. Heidelberg, 1909. LJTTMANN, MAX: Das Ktinstler-Theater. Munich, 1909. A description of the new movement in Munich. Valuable. WAUER, W.: Die Kunst im Theater. Berlin, 1909. MEYERKHOLD: Contribution a rhistoire el a la technique du theatre. Paris, n. d. UArl el la vie: Publ. by KornilofT, Moscow, n. d. STUART, DONALD CLIVE: Stage Decoration in France in the Middle Ages. New York, 1910. ROUCHE, JACQUES: UArl thedtral moderne. Paris, 1910. A valuable summary of the new scene designers from Appia to Gordon Craig. Illustrated. Contains a chapter on the Moscow Art Theatre. WEDEKIND, F.: Schauspielkunst. Ein Glossarium. 1910. GRAY, J. H.: The Roman Theatre. 1910. FRISCH, EFRAIM: Von der Kunst des Theaters. Munich, 1910. GINISTRY, PAUL: La Feerie. Illus. Paris, 1910. FRANKENBERG, EGB. VON: Die geistigen Grundlagen der Theater- kunst. Weimar, 1910. COQUIOT, G.: Nouveau Manuel du peinlre-decorateur du theatre. Paris, 1910. In Encyclopedie-Roret. 5o designs. BAB, JULIUS: Der Mensch auf der Buhne. Eine Dramaturgic fiir Schauspieler. 3 vols. 1910. WILD, F.: Handbuch fiir Festspielbesucher des Prinzregenten Theater. Munich, 1910. JACOBSOHN, SIEGFRIED: Max Reinhardt. Berlin, 1910. The best work, so far, on the German producer. CRAIG, E. GORDON: On the Art of the Theatre. Chicago, 1911. Indispensable for it numerous ideas. MASKELYNE, NEVIL and DEVANT, DAVID: Our Magic. New York, 1911. GRAFFIGNY, DE H.: Decors el pantomimes pour un ihedire Guignol. 3d ed. Paris, 1911. Lighting, tricks, plans, and sketches. Small manual. 322 BIBLIOGRAPHY XIII FUCHS, GEORG: Die Sezession in der dramatischen Kunst und das Volksfestspiel. Munich, 1911. LEPEL, VOLLRATH VON: Vorschldge zur Theaterreform. ign. SAVITS, JOCZA: DerSchauspielerunddasPublikum. Munich, 1911. SVETLOW, V., ind BAKST, L.: Le Ballet contemporain. Transl. from Russian into French by Dr. Calvacoressi. Paris, 1912. Illus. An elaborate and costly book on the Bakst school. PLANER, ERNST: Moderne Buhnenkunst. 1911. Of slight value. ZABEL, E.: Moderne Buhnenkunst. 1911. Illus. Not detailed. AMUNDSEN, GERHART: Die neue Shakespearebuhne des Muncheners Hof theaters. Fully illustrated from the Munich Shakespeare productions. Munich, 1911. GERHAUSER, EMU,: Die Losung des modernen Theaterproblems durch das neue patentierte System des Architekten August Zeh-Solln. Illus. Munich, 1911. LAWRENCE, W. J. : The Elizabethan Playhouse and Other Studies. Stratford-on-Avon, 1912. Illus. Bibliography. P. 99, The Mounting of the Carolan Masques; p. in, The Story of a Peculiar Stage Curtain; p. 76, Music and Song in the Elizabethan Theatre. GOLDSTON, W.: Stage Illusions. London, 1912. BLAIZE, JEAN: Pour monter etjouer une piece. Paris, 1912. A small manual for amateurs. ALHERTY, MAX: Moderne Regie. Ein Buch fiir Theaterfreunde. Frankfort, 1912. LEPEL, VOLLRATH VON: Anleitung zur Herstellung v. Szenarien u. Regiebuchern. Also known as Hofling's Theaterhandbiicher, 1912. Little books on every possible practical aspect of modern staging and producing. CRAIG, GORDON: Towards a New Theatre. London, 1918. Forty designs. Indispensable for its scene designs. ARTICLES ON PRODUCTION AND SCENIC ART 323 KRUGER, MAX: Uber Btihne u. bildende Kunst. Munich, 1912. WALSEH, KARL: Das Theater. Bilhnenbilder and Kostume. Text by Oskar Bie. Colored illus. Berlin, 1912. LOHMEYER, WALTHER: Die Dramaturgic der Massen. Berlin, 1918. Bibliography. An exceptionally interesting book. BROWNE, VAN D.: Secrets of Scene Painting and Stage Effects. London, 1918. Not an important book. PALMER, J.: The Theatre of the Future. London, 1918. BUCKLEY, REGINALD R.: The Shakespeare Revival. A book on the Stratford movement, with articles by Mary Neal and Arthur Hutchinson, and an introduction by F. R. Benson. Illus. Stratford-on-Avon, 1918. GRUNDY, S. : The Play of the Future. London, 1914. CARTER, H.: Theatre of Max Reinhardt. London, 1914. SELL, H. B.: What Is It All About? A sketch of the new move- ment in the theatre. igi4- Pamphlet. Biihnen Beleuchtung System Fortuny. Pub. by Allgemeine Elek- tricitats Gesellschaft, Berlin. A full and technical account of the Fortuny lighting system. Das Theater der Fiinftausend. Munich. Detailed accounts of the invention of a new theatre auditorium. XIV ARTICLES FROM PERIODICALS, ON PRODUCTION AND SCENIC ART. BOURDON, G. : Staging in (he French and English Theatres. Fort- nightly, 77: i54, 1901. SINGER, HANS W.: Modern Stage Art in Germany. International Studio, 3o: 244~7 ^ an - I 97- 324 BIBLIOGRAPHY XIV SINGER, HANS W.: Stage Mounting in Germany. International Studio, 82: 219-28, Sept. 1907. CARRIC, A.: Old Prints of Venice and Rome for Scene Painters' Inspiration. Mask, i: 16-17, April, 1908. Scenery of S. Serlio. Mask, i : i4~2O, Mar. 1908. CRAIG, GORDON: Scene designs (pictures). Mask, i: i, April 1908, and following issues. ANON.: Unique Theatre in Vicenza. Theatre, 7: 2^2, Sept. 1908. ANON.: Comparison of Shakespeare Production in England and Germany. Shakespeare and the modern German stage. Living Age, 262: 196-208, July 24, 1909. LEES, DOROTHY N.: Arena Goldoni, Florence. Its history and Gordon Craig's plans for its future. Mask, 2 : 28-88, July, 1909. ANON.: Ancient and Modern Art in the Drama. Acad. 77:875-7, July 81, 1909. KINGSTON, GERTRUDE : Things Theatrical in Germany and England Compared, igth Century, 66: 990-1007, Dec. 1909. NEUBERGER, A.: Modern Stage Illumination. Sci. Am. S. 69: 244-5, April 1 6, 1910. TRENCH, H.: Dramatic Values and a Suggested Solution. Sat. Rev. 109: 8i5-i6, June 26, 1910. ANON.: Theatre Reform of Gordon Craig. Mask, 3: 29-80, July, 1910. CRAIG, GORDON: Essentials of Stage Scenery. Mask, 3: i4, July, 1910. SHAW, G. B.: Dramatic Values as Suggested by Mr. Trench. Sat. Rev. no: i3-i4, July 2, 1910. TRENCH, H.: Shakespeare and Modern Staging. Sat. Rev. no: 198-9, Aug. 18, 1910. ANON.: The Limits of Stage Illusion. Blackwood's, 188: 55i-6, Oct. 1910. ANON.: Fortuny System of Stage Lighting. 111. London News, 187: 6i4, Oct. 22, 1910. TERRY, ELLEN: Some Ideas on Stage Decoration. McClure's, 36: 288-94, Jan. 1911. ARTICLES ON PRODUCTION AND SCENIC ART 325 DODGE, W. P.: The New Theatres Turn-table Stage. Tech. World, i4: 697-9, Feb. 1911. KITCHEN, K. K.: Revolution in Stage Scenery. Theatre, i3: n3, VIII, April, 1911. CRAMP, H.: Social Theories and Art in Modern Drama. Poet Lore, 22: i4i~5, Mar.- April, 1911. STOKER, B.: Henry Irving and Stage Lighting, igth Cent, fan: 9o3-i2, May, 1911. ANON.: The Stage of the Future. Acad. 80: 664, May 27, 1911. URBAN, F. : Scene Designs. Some early Italian woodcuts. Mask, 4: 47~56, July 191 1. ANON.: The Reproduction of a Mediaeval Play. World To-day, 21 : io38, Sept. 1911. ANON.: Secessionist Movement in Dramatic Art. Cur. Lit. 5i: 3n-i5, Sept. 1911. ANON.: Commedia deW Arte Staging a Scenario. Mask, 4: n3-i5, Oct. 1911. ANON.: Actors Extinguished by Scenery. Lit. D. 43: 672-6, Oct. 7, 1911. YEATS, W. B.: Theatre of Beauty. Harp. W. 55, Nov. 1911. MOULTON, R. H. : Production of Scenery and Accessories for Modern Plays. Tech. World, 16: 671-9, Jan. 1912. IVANHOF, V.: The Theatre of the Future. Eng. Rev. 10: 634~5o, Mar. 1912. EATON, W. P.: The New Stagecraft. Am. Mag. 74: io4-i3, May, 1912. CRAIG, GORDON: The Painter in the Theatre. Mask, 5: 37~43, July, 1912. CRAIG, GORDON: Scene Designs for Hamlet. Spectator, 109: 4o8, Sept. 21, 1912. RICKETTS, C.: Stage Decoration. Fortnightly Rev. 97: 1083-92, Dec. 1912. GARDENWITZ, A.: Scene Painting. Sci. Am., 107:348-9, 355, Oct. 26, 1912. 326 BIBLIOGRAPHY XIV HUNT, ELIZABETH: Scenery to Illustrate Action. Drama, No. 8: i53-6a, Nov. 1912. The Gordon Craig School for the Art of the Theatre. Mask, 5: ig3-5, Jan. igi3. Mask, 5: 217-20, Jan. igi3. Mask, 5: 287-8, Apr. igi3. Dial, 54: 33i, April 16, igi3. CRAIG, GORDON: The Theatre as Distinguished from Drama. English Review, i3: 44o-3, Jan. igi3. ANON. : A New Vision of the Future Theatre. Current Opinion, 54: 120-1, Feb. igiS. CARRIC, A.: The Modern Theatre. Mask, 5: 367-8, April, igiS. BICKLEY, F. : The Modern Artificial or Decorative Spirit. British Rev. 3: 92-102, July, igiS. PIERCE, LUCY F. : The Seagull Theatre [Moscow Art Theater]. Drama, No. n: 127-37, Aug. igiS. COURNOS, J.: Gordon Craig and the Theatre of the Future. Poetry and Drama, i: 334~4o, Sept. igiS. URBAN, F.: Architecture of a Fifteenth Century Theatre. Mask, 6: 101-7, Oct. igiS. ANON.: New Scenic Art. Current Opinion, 55: 25i-2, Oct. 1913. ANON.: Work of Leon Bakst. Lit. Dig. 4?: io64~5, Nov. 29, SIORDET, G. C.: Work of Leon Bakst. International Studio, 5i: 3-6, Nov. igiS. BIRNBAUM, MARTIN: Leon Bakst. New York, igiS. Pamphlet with portrait. MARRIOTT, E.: The Theatre in Warsaw. Mask, 6: 252-5, Jan. 1914. TEVIS, MAY: Scenic Art of Leon Bakst. Theatre, 19: 11-12, Jan. 1914. BLAKE, W. B.: Theatre and Beauty. Independent, 77: 271, Feb. 23, 1914. POLLOCK, A. : Illumination and its Effect on Drama. Drama, No. i3: 93-109, Feb. I9i4- MEYER, ANNIE H.: Art of Leon Bakst. Art and Progress, 5: i6i-5, Mar. 1914. ARTICLES ON PRODUCTION AND SCENIC ART 327 KEITH, W. G. : Designs for the First Marble Scenery on the English Public Stage. Burlington Magazine, 26: 29-88, Apr. 1914, and following issue. ANON.: New Stage Mechanics Exhibited in London. Musical Courier, 68: Apr. 29, 1914. PORTER, CHARLOTTE: M. Fortunes New Lighting Methods. Drama, No. i4; 292-801, May, 1914. D'AuvERGNE, J. : The Moscow Art Theatre. Fortnightly Review, loo : 798-808, May, 1914. ANON.: Savoy Theatre Decorations by Norman Wilkinson. Inter- national Studio, 52: 801-6, June, igi4- SEMAR, J.: Architectural Designs of Padre Pozzo (I'jth cent.)- Mask, 7: 89-62, July, 1914. ANON.: A New Art of Stage Decoration. Current Opinion, 67: 80-1, July, 1914. UZZELL, T. H.: Imperial Alexander Theatre, Petrograd. Theatre, 20: 21-2, 4i July, 1914. CARTER, H. : Dramatizing the Theatre. Forum 62 : 60-9, July, 1914. ANON. : Rural Theatricals. Experiment of the North Dakota Agri- cultural College. Survey, 82: 4o8. July 18, 1914. STEVENS, T. W. : The Laboratory Theatre of the Carnegie Institute of Technology. Play Book, 2: 16-18, Aug. 1914. DICKINSON, T. H.: Recent Tendencies in Theatre Building. Play Book, 2: 24-3 1, Aug. I9i4- PORTER, CHARLOTTE: The Stage Art of G. Fuchs. Drama, No. i5: 469-70, Aug. 1914. LA FARGE, C. G. : Decorative Scenery Granville Barker's Pro- duction of A Midsummer Night's Dream. New Republic, 2: 1 56, March 18, 1915. MATTHEWS, BRANDER: Evolution of Scene Painting. Scribner's. Mag. 58: 82-94, July, I9i5. ANON.: Granville Barker, the New Art of the Theatre and the New Drama. Rev. of Reviews, 5i: 498-5oi, April, 1915. VAN VECHTEN, C.: Adolph Appia and Gordon Craig. Forum, 54: 488-7, Oct. 1915. 328 BIBLIOGRAPHY XV XV ELIZABETHAN PLATFORM STAGE DEUUS, N.: Uber das Englische Theaterwesen zu Shakespeares Zert. Bremen, i85g. ELZE, K.: Eine Auffiihrung im Globe-Theater. Weimar, 1878. SYMONDS, J. A. : Shakespeare's Predecessors in the English Drama. London, 1881. ARCHER, W.: A Sixteenth-century Playhouse. In the Universal Review, vol. I, p. 281, May-August, 1888. ORDISH, T. F.: Early London Theatres. London, 189^. COLLINS, J. F. : The Predecessors of Shakespeare. In Essays and Studies. London, i8o,5. BULTHAUPT, H. A. : Dramaturgic des Schauspiels. Shakespeare. 6th ed. Oldenburg, 1898. BEVZ, G.: Londoner Theater und Schauspiele im Jahre 1599. In Anglia, vol. XXII (N. F. vol. X), p. 56. 1899. BRODMEIER, C.: Die Shakespeare-Biihne nach den alien Buhnenan- weisungen. Weimar. 190^. MANTZIUS, KARL: The History of Theatrical Art. London, io/>4- 1909- STEPHENSON, H. T.: Shakespeare's London. New York, 1906. REYNOLDS, G. F.: Some Principles of Elizabethan Staging. In Mod. Philology, vol. II, pp. 58i-6i4; and vol. Ill, pp. 69-97. April and June, 1906. WEGENER, R.: Die Buhneneinrichtung des Shakespeareschen Theaters. Halle, 1907. REYNOLDS, G. F.: " Trees" on the Stage of Shakespeare. In Mod. Philology, vol. V, No. 2, pp. i53-i68, Oct. 1907. POEL, W.: Letter on Elizabethan Acting. In the Tribune, London, Oct. 10, 1907. ScHELLiNG, F. E. : Elizabethan Drama, i558-i642. 2 vols. 1908. ELIZABETHAN PLATFORM STAGE 329 ARCHER, W. : The Elizabethan Stage. In The Quarterly Review, No. 4i5, p. 44a, April, 1908. ALBRIGHT, V. E.: The Shakespearian Stage. New York, 1909. CHAMBERS, E. K.: The Stage of the Globe. In Shakespeare's works, vol. 10. London, 1910. BROOKE, C. F. TUCKER: The Tudor Drama. New York, 1911. LAWRENCE, W. J. : The Elizabethan Playhouse. Stratford-on-Avon, 1912. An excellent book. Includes also Restoration theatres. A Scale Model of the Fortune Theatre. In Arch. Review, vol. 3i, pp. 53-55, 1912. POEL, W.: Shakespeare in the Theatre. London, igi3. Mr. Poel is a practical authority on Elizabethan staging. STOPES, MRS. C. C. : Burbage and Shakespeare's Stage. London, 1913. GRAVES, THORNTON SHIRLEY: The Court and the London Theatres during the Reign of Elizabeth. Menasha, Wisconsin, 1913. SAVITS, JOCZA: Von der Absicht des Dramas. Munich. A defence of the non-scenic Shakespeare. THORNDIKE, ASHLEY, T.: Shakespeare's Theater. New York, 1916. See also the extensive bibliographies in the Cambridge History of Modern Literature. XVI ACTING The professional discussion of acting has centered about the ques- tion, " Does the actor feel the actual emotions he represents, or does he only simulate them? " Such an argument is of purely academic interest to a community drama worker who desires at most some technical hints which will assist his amateurs to grasp the elementary principles of speaking lines. The following bibliography therefore contains a few books grouped by themselves which are of practical value. For the con- 330 BIBLIOGRAPHY XVI venience of the director, however, who ought to familiarize himself with an extended study of the theories of acting, a longer list covering some of the more important books has been added. SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAM: Hamlet, Act III, sc. 2, 11. i-5o. When examined with an understanding of the full force of the words, Hamlet's advice to the players still remains the best compendium of the art. POLLOCK, WALTER HERRIES: The Paradox of Acting, translated with annotations from Diderot's Paradoxe sur le Comedien. With a preface by Henry Irving, London, i883. This is a useful popular examination of Diderot's paradox that the actor expresses emotion best when he does not feel it. COOK, BUTTON: On the Stage. 2 vols. London, 1888. See vol. I, chaps. I, III, VIII, XI, and XIII. This book is more useful than any of the professed treatises on the subject. GARCIA, GUSTAVE: The Actor's Art. A practical treatise on stage declamation, public speaking, and deportment. 2d ed. London, 1888. It contains all the defects and many of the merits of the professional manual. HAMMERTON, J. A.: The Actor's Art. London, 1897. A typical example of the text-books. CAMPBELL, H.: Voice, Speech and Gesture. London. 1904. More modern and hence more valuable. FHJPPI, ROSINA: Hints to Speakers and Players. London, igi3. The best recent work. Miss Filippi is successful in her methods of train- ing. Books prepared for Amateurs POLLOCK, WALTER HERRIES, and LADY POLLOCK: Amateur Theatricals. London, 1879. General suggestions. Old-fashioned. DAKIN, HENRY J. : The Stage in the Drawing Room. London, n. d. [1882]. It contains a few useful hints. ACTING 331 NEIL, C. L.: Amateur Theatricals. London, BULLIVANT, C. H.: The Drawing Room Entertainer. London, These four books contain advice on costume, make-up, and the arrange- ment of small indoor stages, the preparation of scenery, etc. They are of little practical importance to the director but might prove helpful to his actors. ANON. : The Amateur's Hand-book. A guide to home theatricals. S. French, New York, 1910. TAYLOR, EMERSON: Practical Stage Directing for Amateurs. New York, 1916. Gesture and Pose STEBBINS, G.: Delsarte System of Expression. New York, 1886. MORGAN, A. : An Hour with Delsarte. A study of expression. Boston, 1889. GIRAUDET: M unique. Physiognomic et Gestes apres le Systeme de Delsarte. Paris, 1896. These books contain exercises of value to novices. WENDLANDT, 0. J. : Living Statuary. How it mav be produced by amateurs. Manchester, 1896. The Art of Make-up Fox, C. H.: The Art of Making up. London, 1892. LYNN, R. A. N.: Lynn's Practical Hints on Making-up. London, 1892. HAGERMANN, M.: Hagermann j s Make-up Book. Chicago, 1898. PAINTER: Turner's Complete Guide to Theatrical Make-up. Lon- don, 1898. FITZGERALD, S. J. A.: How to "Make-up." A practical guide for amateurs. London, 1902. YOUNG, J.: Making-up. New York, 1906. MORTON, C.: The Art of Theatrical Make-up. London, 1909. In addition many of the books on acting contain chapters on make-up. 332 BIBLIOGRAPHY XVI General Lisi of Books on Acting This bibliography does not aim to be exhaustive ; its object rather is to suggest the better known books in the field. In addi- tion much material concerning acting will be found in theat- rical memoirs, diaries, and reminiscences. OVERBUBY, SIR THOMAS: The Character of a Perfect Actor, in "Characters." RICCOBONI, LUIGI: Dell' Arte Rappresentativa. London, 1726. RJCCOBONI, LUIGI: Pensees sur la Declamation. Paris, 1788. These contain an early exposition of the emotional principle of acting elaborated into a theory of the art. SATNTE-ALBINE, REMARD DE: Le Comedien. Paris, 174?. His theory rests upon emotion. It is the basis of two or three subse- quent works. (See below.) RICCOBONI, FRANgois: UArt du Theatre. Paris, 1750. Francois disagrees with his father, Luigi. An actor should not feel the emotion he expresses. (See above.) HILL [AARON? SIR JOHN? JOHN?]: The Actor. A treatise on the art of playing. London, 1750. The authorship of this adaptation of Sainte-Albine (see above) was at- tributed to Aaron Hill. Lowe, p. 2, assigns it to "Sir John Hill." The British Museum catalogue notes "by J. Hill, M. D., calling himself Sir John Hill." Reprinted in 1766 with added anecdotes. LLOYD, ROBERT: The Actor. A poem addressed to Bonnell Thornton, Esq. London, 4th ed., 1764. DORAT, J. C.: La Declamation Theatrale. Poeme didactique. Paris, 1766. STICOTTI, ANTONIO FABIO: Garrick, ou les Acteurs Anglois. Paris, 1769. An adaptation of "The Actor " (see above) back into French once more. ENGEL: I dees sur le geste et I action theatrale. Paris, 1788. ANON.: The New Thespian Oracle. Containing original strictures on oratory and acting. London, 1791. ANON. : The Theatrical Speaker. An elucidation of the whole sci- ence of acting. London, 1807. ACTING 333 ANON.: The Thespian Preceptor. A full display of the scenic art, including ample and easy instructions for treading the stage, using proper action, modulating the voice, and express- ing the several dramatic passions ... London, 1811. ANON.: An Essay on the Art of Acting. Epistle I. London, 1819. ANON. : The Actor, or, Guide to the Stage. Exemplifying the whole art of acting. London, 1821. A condensation of "The Actor," ed. of 1765. (See above.) BERNIER, F.: Theorie de 1'art du comedien. Paris, 1826. CGRANT, G?] : An Essay on the Science of Acting, by a Veteran Stager. London, 1828. A rambling, discursive book, of no value save for its anecdotes. ANON.: The Art of Acting; or, Guide to the Stage, in which the dramatic passions are defined, analyzed, and made easy of acquirement. New York, n. d. i8553. LEWES, GEORGE HENRY : On Actors and the Art of Acting. London, 18761 A much quoted work. Chap. X, On Natural Acting, is suggestive. COQUELJN, C.: UArl et le Comedien. Paris, 1880. ist. Am. ed. Boston, 1881. See the Eng. transl. in Publ. Columbia University Dramatic Museum, I9i5. TALMA, F. J.: The Actor's Art. London, 1888. See the reprint in Publ. Columbia University Dramatic Museum, iQi5. HOUSSAYE, ARSENE: La Comedienne. Paris, 188^. FITZGERALD, PERCY: The Art of the Stage, as set out in Charles Lamb's Dramatic Essays, with a commentary. London, i885. See pp. a4a-a55 on acting and Hamlet's advice to the players. ARCHER, WILLIAM: Masks or Faces? London, 1888. A historical study of the controversy concerning emotion versus intel- lect in acting, supported by a wealth of citations from theatrical memoirs together with bibliographical notes. The foundation work for any exami- nation of the literature of acting. MONROSE, E.: Causeries sur CArt du Theatre. Brussels, 1888. ADAMS, F. A. F. : Gesture and Pantomimic Action. New York, 1891. DUPONT-VERNON, H.: Diseurs et comediens. Paris, 1801. 334 BIBLIOGRAPHY XVI FITZGERALD, PERCY: The Art of Acting. London, 1892. Often quoted by writers on the stage. MACLAUGHLIN, E. L. : Handy Book upon Elocution and Dramatic Art. London, 1892. IRVING, HENRY: The Drama. Four addresses. New York, n. d. [1892]- The second and fourth address are on the art of acting. Excellent. LAMBERT, A.: Sur les planches. Paris, 1894. AYRES, ALFRED: Acting and Actors, Elocution and Elocutionists. A book about theater folk and the theater art. New York, Too much elocution. CORLETTE, C. M.: Universal Theatrical Stage Tutor and Guide. Manchester, 1897. A catch-penny handbook. SMITHSON, D. J.: Elocution and Dramatic Art. London, 1897. GREGORI, F.: Das Schaffen des Schauspielers. Berlin, 1899. MARTERSTEIG, M. : Der Schauspieler. Ein kiinstlerisches Problem. Leipzig, 1900. ROCHAS D'AIGLUN, A DE: Les Sentiments, la Musique, et le Gesie. Grenoble, 1900. AUBERT, C.: L'Art Mimique. Paris, 1901. SYMONS, ARTHUR: Plays, Acting, and Music. London, igb3. See p. 28, The Speaking of Verse; p. 78, Music, Staging, and Some Acting; p. 84, The Test of the Actor; p. 166, On Crossing Stage to Right; p. 78, The Price of Realism. These are a stimulating series of brief essays. KERR, ALFRED: Schauspielkunst. Berlin, 1904. Excellent. IRVING, SIR HENRY: Occasional Papers. London, 1906. See on Art and the Status of the Actor, and on Colley Gibber's Apology. BALFOUR-BROWNE, J. H.: The Art of Acting. In his Essays, Critical and Political, vol. I, pp. 265-77. London, 1907. WALKLEY, A. B. : Drama and Life. New York, 1908. See p. loo, The Art of Acting. An interesting analysis of a magazine article by Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree on "How to Act." ACTING 335 SUTHERLAND, A. C.: Dramatic Elocution and Action. London, 1908. O'CONNOR, J. E.: Chapters in the History of Actors and Acting in Ancient Greece. Chicago. HASLUCK, S. L., and A. : The Elements of Elocution and Gesture. London, 1908. BREMONT, LEON: UArl de dire et le theatre. Paris, 1908. HARVEY, J. MARTIN: Character and the Actor, London, 1908. Publications of Ethnological Society. Worth careful attention. LAWSON, ROBB: The Psychology of Acting. In the Fortnightly, N. S. vol. 85 (vol. 90), pp. 499~5i3. London, 1909. BERGER, ALFRED VON: Meine hamburgische Dramaturgic . Vienna, 1910. MACKAY, F. F.: The Art of Acting. Embracing the analysis of expression and its application to dramatic literature. New York, 1910. Pretentious but somewhat verbose. KUTSCHER, ARTHUR: Die Ausdruckkunst der Buhne. Grundriss und Bausteine zum neuen Theater. Leipzig, 1910. Important because of its application of the principles of the new staging. THUMSER, KARL: Vom Dasein des Schauspieles. Leipzig, 1910. SAVITS, JOCZA: Der Schauspieler und das Publikum. Munich, n. d. [1910]. Savits is one of the important leaders of the new movement. ARMSTRONG, C. F. : The Actors Companion. Introduction by Arthur Bouchier. London, n. d. Conventional. Armstrong has l>een an actor and publisher's reader. FRY, EMMA SHERIDAN: Educational Dramatics. A handbook on the educational player metruxl. New York, 1913. Of value to school teachers and directors of school dramatics. ANGUS, J. KEITH: Amateur Acting. London, 1913. MATTHEWS, BRANDER: On Acting. New York, 191/4. A brief essay literary rather than practical. 336 BIBLIOGRAPHY XVII GILLETTE, WILLIAM: The Illusion of the First Time in Acting. With an introduction by George Arliss. Publ. I of the Dra- matic Museum of Columbia University, 1916. COQUELJN, CONSTANT: Art and the Actor. Transl. by Abby Langdon Alger. With an introduction by Henry James. Publ. II of the Dramatic Museum of Columbia University, 1916. The first half of this essay is of particular value to students of acting. JENKIN, H. C. FLEEMING: Mrs. Siddons as Lady Macbeth and as Queen Katharine. With an introduction by Brander Mat- thews. Publ. Ill of the Dramatic Museum of Columbia University, 191 5. The critique contains sound theory of the actor's art in general. TALMA: Reflections on the Actor's Art. With an introduction by Sir Henry Irving, and a review by H. C. Fleeming Jenkin. Publ. IV of the Dramatic Museum of Columbia University, 1916. Talma's essay on acting is probably the best analytical study of this art. Acting at the Paris Conservatoire [^Classic Methods'] LEYMAIRE, L. DE, et BERNHEIM, A.: L'Enseignement dramatique au Conservatoire. Paris, 1886. SOLLY, J. R. : Acting and the Art of Speech at the Paris Conserva- toire. London, 1891. PEERRE, C.: Les anciennes ecoles de declamation dramatique. Paris, 1895. XVII PANTOMIME WEAVER, JOHN: History of the Mimes and Pantomimes. 1728. NOJAC, R. DE: Petit Traite de Pantomime. Paris, 1887. HOUGOUNET, PAUL: Mimes et Pierrots. Paris, 1889. HUGOUNET, PAUL: La Musique et la Pantomime. Paris, 1892. PANTOMIME 337 ALBERT, CHARLES: Pantomimes modernes. Paris, 1896. PERICAUD, Louis: Le Theatre desfunambules, ses mimes, ses acteurs, et ses pantomimes . . . Paris, 1897. ADAMS, FLORENCE A.: Gesture and Pantomimic Action. New York, 1891. Illustrated. SCHOEMAKER, R. H. : Delsartean Pantomimes. Philadelphia, 1898. BROADBENT, R. A.: A History of Pantomime. London, 1901. One of the few books available on this subject. ALBERT, CHARLES: UArt mimique, suivi d'un traite de la pantomime et da ballet. Paris, 1901. 200 plates. DRIESEN, OTTO: Der Unsprung des Harlekin, ein Kulturge- schichtliches Problem. Berlin, 1904. SYMONS, ARTHUR: Pantomime and the Poetic Drama. In Studies in Seven Arts. 1907. BRONNER, MILTON: The Cult of Pierrot. In Poet Lore, Boston, 1908, vol. 19, pp. 3i&-33i. DELJTZSCH, FRIEDRICH: Sardanapol. Grosse historische Panto- mime in 3 Akten oder 4 Bildern, unter Anlehrung an das gleichnamige Ballett Paul Taglionis, neu bearbeitet von F. Delitsch. Musikalische Begleitung . . . von Joseph Schlar. Begleitende Dichtung von Joseph Lauff, Berlin, 1909. Has the advantage that the accompanying music and verse may be com- pared with the pantomime action. FREKSA, FRIEDRICH: Regiebuch zu Sumurun; eine Pantomime in neun Bildern nach orientalischen Mdrchenmoliven. Musik von V. Hollander. Berlin, n. d. [1910.3 The prompt-book for the Reinhardt production. LE Roux, and DUBOUR, G. DE: La Roussalka, ballet-pantomime en deux actes. Musique de L. Lambert. Paris, 1911. FOSTER, FRANCES A.: Dumb Show in Elizabethan Drama before 1620. In Englische Studien, v. 44. P- 8-17. Leipzig, 1911. A number of old French pantomime texts are listed in M. de Soleinne's Bibliotheque Dramatique in vol. V under books "relatifs au theatre." 338 BIBLIOGRAPHY XVIII XVIII COSTUME It is difficult to prepare anything approaching an adequate bib- liography on Costume. Racinet's Le Costume Historique contains, however, a detailed selection of books. There are only a few statisfactory books on this subject among the hun- dreds of titles. It is better to go direct to contemporary painting, statuary, tapestries, etc., for costume data. For American Indian costumes, see the publications of the Smith- sonian. The following list is restricted to standard works. Greece SMITH, J. M.: Ancient Greek Female Costume. London, 1882. 112 plates. STUDNICZKA, F. : Beitrdge zur Geschichte der altgriechischen Tracht. Vienna, 1886. EVANS, LADY M. M.: Chapters on Greek Dress. London, 1898. Illus. Bibliography. ABRAHAMS, E. B. : Greek Dress. A study of the costumes worn in ancient Greece. London, 1908. Illus. Plates and diagrams. These four books are all useful. BIEBER, M. : Das Dresdener Schauspielerrelief. Ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des tragischen Kostums und der griechischen Kunst. Bonn, 1907. Diss. Rome FROHLICH, F.: Die Mode im alien Rom. Basel, i885. SAUNDERS, CATHERINE : Costume in Roman Comedy. New York, 1909. Bibliography. COSTUME 339 Costume General VECELLJO, CESARE: Habiti antichi e moderni di tutto il mondo. Venice, new ed., 1698. 5o6 woodcuts by Titian's brother. LAVACHER DE CHARNOIS: Recherches sur les costumes et sur les theatres de toutes les nations tant anciennes que modernes. ist ed. 2 vols., Paris, 1790. 56 plates. 2d ed. 1802. KOEHLER, KARL: Die Trachten der Volker in Bild und Schnitt. 3 vols. Dresden, 1871-73. AMMAN, JOST: The Theatre of Women. (Orig. ed. i586.) Man- chester, 1872. Publ. of Holbein Society. ROSENBERG, C. A. Geschichte des Kostums. Berlin, 1906. RHEAD, G.: Chats on Costume. New York, 1906. LACY, THOMAS H.: Female Costume, Historical, National, and Dramatic. London, 200 plates. MACK AY, CONSTANCE D'ARCY : Costumes and Scenery for Amateurs. New York, 191 5. A useful handbook, although the costume designs are conventional. FRENCH'S Costumes; Dramatic, National, and Historical. 2 vols. New York, n. d. Shakespeare and Theatrical MACKLIN: Illustrations to Shakespeare's Plays. London, 1792. PLANCHE, J. R.: Costume of Shakespeare's Hamlet, Othello, Mer- chant of Venice, Henry IV, and As You Like It. Selected and arranged from the best authorities. 70 hand-colored plates, with description. BOOCKE, R. L. : Shakespearean Costumes. Illustrations of charac- ters in each play. London, 1889. ARIA, E.: Costume, Fanciful, Historical, and Theatrical. London, 1906. With colored illustrations (many Shakesj>earenn) by Percy Anderson. 340 BIBLIOGRAPHY XVIII England. STRUTT, JOSEPH: A Compkte View of the Dress and Habits of the People of England. 2 vols., new ed., by J. R. Planche. London, 1842. Contains i43 valuable plates. MARTIN, CHARLES: The Civil Costume in England from the Conquest to the Present Time. London, i84a. Contains 61 colored plates. PLANCHE, J. R.: British Costume. London, i846. Illus. FAIRHOLT, FREDERICK WILLIAM: Satirical Songs and Poems on Costume: from the 13th to the 19th century. London, 1849. Publ. Percy Society. A mine of interesting, amusing, and valuable information on English costume. MEYRICK, S. R.: Engraved Illustrations of Ancient Arms and Armour. 2 vols. Reprinted. London., i854- A collection of 160 large plates, with a brief descriptive text. SHAW, HENRY: Dresses and Decorations of the Middle Ages. 2 vols. Reprinted. London, i858. Contains g4 useful colored plates and 128 woodcuts. Furniture and deco- rations are also included. PLANCHE, J. R.: A Cyclopaedia of Costume. Including a general history of costumes. 2 vols. London, 1876-79. New ed., Bonn's Artist's Library, 1907. A standard work elaborately illustrated. SCHILD, M.: Old English Costumes. London, 1888. FAIRHOLT, F. W.: Costume in England. A history of dress. 3d ed., by H. A. Dillon. 2 vols. London, i885. One of the best works on this subject. Vol. 2 is a glossary. HILL, GEORGIANA: A History of English Dress. 2 vols. London, i8o3. A popular handbook. COSTUME 341 HOLDING, T. H.: Uniforms of the British Army, Navy, and Court London, i8g. GARDINER, F. M. : The Evolution of Fashion. London, 1897. SCHILD, M.: English Peasant Costumes from Boadicea to Queen Victoria. London, 1898. Valuable for folk-dance costuming. DRUITT, H.: Manual of Costume as Illustrated by Monumental Brasses. London, 1906. Brasses are an excellent costume source. CALTHROP, D. C.: English Costume. 4 vols. London, 1906. The best work on this subject. Illus. CLINCH, G.: English Costume from Prehistoric Times to the End of the Eighteenth Century. Antiquary's Books series. London, 1909- A convenient and accurate manual. ASHDOWN, EMILY J.: British Costume during Nineteen Centuries (civil and ecclesiastical). London, 1910. 459 engravings, no plates, 9 colored reproductions. WEBB, W. M.: Heritage of Dress. London, 1912. Old English Costumes. Talbot Hughes Collection. London, 1918. PRICE, J. M.: Dame Fashion. London, 1918. Scotland NORTH, C. N. MAC!. : A Record of the Dress of the Highlanders. 2 vols. London, 1881. ANON.: The Scottish Clans and their Tartans. Edinburgh, 1892. STUART, J. S. and C. E.: Costume of the Clans. Edinburgh, 1892. France RACINET, A.: Le Costume hislorique. 6 vols. Paris, 1876-1888. Contains Boo plates. An elaborate standard work. Bibliography. Costumes of all nations. DEMAY, GERMAIN: Le Costume au moyen-age d"apres les sceaux. Paris, 1880. 342 BIBLIOGRAPHY XVIII JULLIEN, ADOLPHE [pseud, of Jean Lucien Adolphe]: Histoire da costume au theatre depuis les origines du theatre en France jusqu'a nos jours. Paris, 1880. a4 plates, some colored. CHALLAMEL, J. B. M. A.: La toilette des femmes depuis fepoque gallo-romaine. Paris, 1881. Eng. transl. by Mrs. Cashel Hoey and Mrs. John Lillie. 2 vols. London. GREVIN, A.: Costumes de theatre. Paris, 1 88 1. Continued annu- ally. MONVAL, GEORGES: Le Costume a la Comedie Frangaise. Paris, 1884. i5o plates in color. RICHARD, J. : UArmee frangaise par E. Detaille. 2 vols. Paris, 1885-89. ANON. : Directoire and First Empire Dress. London, 1889. RENAN, A.: Le Costume en France. Paris, 1890. UZANNE, 0.: Les Modes de Paris. 1797-1897. Paris, 1898. Eng. transl. London, 1898. ALLINSON, A.: Days of the Directoire. London, 1910. Germany HOTTENROTH, F. : Handbuch der deutschen Tracht. Stuttgart, 1898-96. ANON.: Die Uniformen der Deutschen Armee. Leipzig, 1897. HOTTENROTH, F.: Deutsche Volkstrachten vom XVI Jahrhundert an bis zwn Anfange des XIX Jahrhunderts. Frankfort, 1898-1902. One of the most elaborate of the German standard works. Zur Geschichte der Kostume: nach Zeichnungen von Diez, Froh- lich, Haberlin, Heil, Rothbart, Walter. Munich. An elaborate and accurate work. SPIESS, KARL: Die deutschen Volkstrachten. Leipzig, 1911. 342 illustrations and a bibliography. The United States WALTON, WILLIAM: The Army and Navy of the United States, from the period of the Revolution to the present day. Boston, 1889-95. Issued hi twelve sections. COSTUME 343 EARLE, ALICE M. : Costume of Colonial Times, New York, 1894. LEONARD, G. C.: The Cap and Gown in America. Albany, 1896. CARR, LUCIEN: Dress and Ornaments of Certain American Indians. Worcester, 1897. Proc. Amer. Antiq. Soc. vol. II, pp. 38i-454. GUMMERE, A. M. : The Quaker. A study in costume. Philadelphia, 1901. EARLE, ALICE M. : Two Centuries of Costume in America. 2 vols. New York, igo3. Illus. Plates and portraits. MACCLELLAN, ELIZABETH: Historic Dress in America, 1607-1800. Philadelphia, 1904. Vol. II, 1800-1870. Philadelphia, 1910. Plates and bibliography. Heraldry PAPWORTH, J. W.: An Alphabetical Dictionary of Coats of Arms belonging to families in Great Britain and Ireland. 2 vols. London, [i858>74. A valuable work. ELVIN, C. N.: Dictionary of Heraldry. London [1889} A valuable work. WOODWARD, JOHN, and BURNETT, GEORGE : A Treatise on Heraldry, British and Foreign. 2 vols., Edinburgh, 1892. The most exhaustive treatise on English heraldry. WOODWARD, JOHN: A Treatise on Ecclesiastical Heraldry. Edin- burgh, 1894. Useful in its field. BONTELL, CHARLES: A Manual of Heraldry. London, 6th ed. 1899. 45o illustrations. The best handbook of English heraldry. 344 BIBLIOGRAPHY XIX XIX COLOR The following books were used by the authors in preparing the chapter on color. This list is in no sense a bibliography of the subject. HAY, D. R.: The Principles of Beauty in Colouring Systematized. Edinburgh, i845. The color scales are theoretical but quite useful. WILKINSON, J. GARDNER: On Colour. London, i858. Numerous tables of harmonies and discords. CHEVREUL, M. Z.: The Principles of Harmony and Contrast of Colors. Transl. Charles Martel. 3d ed. i85g. A standard work. Planned on a practical basis, but theoretical in its results. RUSKIN, JOHN: The Elements of Drawing. New York, 1869. Suggestive sometimes too plausible. GOETHE: Theory of Colours. Eastlake's translation. TAINE, H. A.: Lectures on Art. Transl. John Durand, 3d ed. New York, 1876. CRANE, LUCY: Art and the Formation of Taste. BRACQUEMOND, FELIX: Du dessin et de la couleur. Paris, i885. CRANE, WALTER: The Claims of Decorative Art. Boston, 1892. WARD, JAMES: Historic Ornament. 2 vols. New York, 1897. CHURCH, A. H.: Colour. An elementary manual for students. New ed. London, 1897. CRANE, WALTER : Line and Form. London, 1900. BARBER, F. Louis: Binary Combinations of Tints and Shades Among Themselves and with One Another. University of Toronto Studies, Psychological Series. Toronto, 1907. An elaborate and valuable scientific study of the emotional effects of colors. THE DANCE 345 BABBITT, IRVING: The New Laokoon. Boston, 1910. See p. 1720". on color-audition. RAYMOND, G. L. : The Essentials of Esthetics. A useful elementary text-book. CLEMENT, C. E.: Handbook of Legendary and Mythological Art. HULME, F. EDWARD: Symbolism in Christian Art. 6th ed. Lon- don, 1910. RIDWAY, ROBERT: Color Standards and Color Nomenclature. Washington, D. C., 1912. Fifty-three colored plates and eleven hundred and fifteen named colors. XX THE DANCE ARBEAU, THOINET [jpseud. of the monk Jehan Tabourot]: Orche- sographie. ist ed. i588. Reprinted, and ed. by Feuillet, Paris 1701. Another ed. with an essay on the dance of the i6th century by Laure Fonta, Paris, 1888. BOISSART, ROBERT: Mascarades recueillies el mises en laille-douce. 1697. FAVYN, A. : Le Theatre d*honneur el de chevalerie. Paris, 1620. MENESTRIER, C.: Des ballets anciens el modernes selon les regies du theatre. Paris, 1682. WEAVER, JOHN: An Essay towards an History of Dancing . . . containing the several sorts of dancing, antique and modern, serious, scenical, grotesque. . . . London, 1712. CAHUSAC, L. DE: La danse ancienne el moderne, ou un traite his- torique de la danse. Eng. transl. i85. ist ed. The Hague. NOVERRE, M. DE: Lettres sur la danse el sur les ballets. Lyon, 1760. DUPLAIN, GUIMARD, ou Cart de la danse-pantomime. Poem. Paris, 1783. A pamphlet. COMPAN: Dictionnaire de danse, conlenant I'histoire, les regies et les principes de eel art. . . . Paris, 1787. 346 BIBLIOGRAPHY XX CZERWINSKI, A.: Geschichte der Tanzkunst. 1808. BARON, A.: La danse ancienne, moderne, religieuse, civile, et thea- trale. Paris, 1824. BLASIS, C.: Code complet de la danse . . . suivi de nouveaux airs de danse. Paris, i83o. BLAZE, F. H. J.: La danse el les ballets depuis Bacchus jusqua Mademoiselle Taglioni. Paris, 1882. CATLTN, GEORGE: Manners and Customs of the American Indians. London, i84i. CZERWINSKI, ALBERT: Geschichte der Tanzkunst bei den cultivirten Volkern von den ersten Anfdngen bis auf die gegenwartige Zeii. Vienna, 1862. CELLER, LUDOVIC: Le Ballet de la reine et les origines de F opera au XW siecle. Paris, 1868. LACROIX, PAUL: Ballets et mascarades de la cow, 1581-1682. 6 vols. Geneva, 1868-70. BUCHHOLTZ, HERMANN: Die Tanzkunst des Euripides. Leipzig, 1871. FLACH, H.: Der Tanz bei den Griechen. Berlin, 1880. BLASIS, C. : Notes upon Dancing. Transl. by R. Barton, London, 1847. French ed. r'p't'd. in Librairie Encylopedique de Doret. Paris, i8i4- BOHME, FRANZ H. : Geschichte des Tanzes in Deutschland. 2 vols. Leipzig, 1886. VESTRIS, D.: Les danses d'autrefois, de la pavane a la gavotte. Paris, 1889. BERN AY, MLLE. BERTHE: La danse au theatre. Paris, 1890. GOLT, C.: Old Familiar Dances with Figures. Boston, 1890. KIDSON, FRANK: Old English Country Dances. London, 1890. Music bibliography. GIRAUDET, E.: Traite de la danse. Paris, 1890. 5oo illustrations. Vol. II, 1900. DESSERAT, G.: Dictionnaire de la danse, historique, theorique, pratique, et bibliographique depuis Vorigine jusqua nos jours. Paris, 1895. THE DANCE 347 GLEN, J.: The Glen Collection of Scottish Dance Music, Strathspeys, Reels, and Jigs. . . Edinburgh, 1891-1896, 2 vols. GROVE, MRS. LILLY: Dancing . . . with musical examples. The Badminton Library of Sports and Pastimes. Illus. London, 1896. EMMANUEL, M.: La danse grecque antique d'apres les monuments figures . . . analyses chronophotographiques obtenues avec les appareils de Marey. Illus. Paris, 1896. SCOTT, EDWARD: Dancing as Art and Pastime. London, 1897. VUILLER, GASTON: History of Dancing. From the French. London, 1898. Fr. ed. 1897. SCOTT, EDWARD: Dancing in all Ages. London, 1899. BROWN, JAMES DUFF: Characteristic Songs and Dances of all Nations. Ed. with historical notes and a bibliography. The music arranged for the pianoforte. London, 1901. BROWN, BALDWIN: The Fine Arts. New York, 1901. HOFER, MARIE: Old and New Singing Games. Chicago, 1901. HOFER, MARIE : Popular Folk Games and Dances. Chicago, 1901 . STORCK, K.: Der Tanz. Leipzig, 1908. BANES, A.: Au temps des reverences. Danses anciennes. Paris, 1903. ZORN, FRIEDRICH ALBERT: Grammar of the Art of Dancing, Theo- retical and Practical. Lessons in the art of dancing and dance-writing (choregraphy). Music, etc. Transl. A. J. Sheafe, Boston, 1905. Orig. Ger. ed. pub. 1887. MERIL, F. DE: Histoire de la danse a travers les ages. Paris, n. d. [1906?] Illus. ST. JOHNSTON, REGINALD: A History of Dancing. London, 1906. Illus. Small bibliog. BIE, O.: Der Tanz. Berlin, 1906. BEDIER, G.: Les plus anciennes danses fran$aises. Revue des Deux Mondes, Jan. i5, 1906. AUBRY, PIERRE [pseud, of Louis Francois Pierre]: Estampies et danses royales, les plus anciens textes de musique instrumentale au moyen age. Paris, 1907. 348 BIBLIOGRAPHY XX HOLT, ARDEN: How to Dance the Revived Ancient Dances. London, 1907. Illus. KIMMINS, G. T., and WOOLWORTH, M. H.: Guild of Play Book of Festival and Dance. 2 vols. London, 1907. KIMMINS, G. T. : Guild of Play Book of National Dances. Vol. 3. London, 1907. These two books are excellent. ALLAN, M. : My Life and Dancing. London, 1908. BURCHENAL, ELIZABETH: Folk-dances and Singing Games. Twenty- six folk-dances of Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Russia, Bo- hemia, Hungary, Italy, England, Scotland, and Ireland, with the music, full directions for performances, and numerous illustrations. New York, 1909. HINCKS, MARCELLE AZRA: Representations of Dancing on Early Greek Vases. Illus. In Revue Archeol. Paris, 1909. Ser. 4, vol. i4, pp. 35i-369. D'ERSKY, F. A. : Les Danses antiques grecques el romaines. Paris, 1909- BURCHENAL, ELIZABETH: Dances of the People. New York, 1909- SHARP, CECIL: The Country Dance Book. London, 1909. SCHUR, ERNST: Der moderne Tanz. Miinchen, 1910. Illus. HINCKS, MARCELLE AZRA: The Japanese Dance. London, 1910. Illus. AJAS, A.: Traite pratique de la danse donnant la technique detaillee, mise a la portee de tous. Paris, 1910. Illus. BROWER, JOSEPHINE: The Morris Dance. New York, 1910. GULICK, LUTHER H.: The Healthful Art of Dancing. New York, 1910. SCHNABEL, H. : Kordax; Archdologische Studien zur Geschichte eines antiken Tanzes und zum Ursprung der griechischen Komodie. Munich, 1910. ANON.: The Dance. Historic illustrations of dancing from 33oo B.C. to 1911 A.D. By an antiquary. London, 1911. [The "antiquary" was J. Bale.] THE DANCE 349 APPLIN, ARTHUR: The Stories of the Russian Ballets. New York, n. d. [191 1]. URLIN, ETHEL L. : Dancing, Ancient and Modern. London, n. d. [1911]- LAFITTE, J. P.: Les Danses d 1 Isadora Duncan. Paris, 191 1. KELLERMANN, B.: Sass Yo Yassa. Japanische Tanze. Illus. Berlin, 191 1. CAFFIN, CAROLINE S., and CAFFIN, C. H.: Dancing and Dancers of To-day. The modern revival of dancing as an art. New York, 1 91 2. Illus. One of the useful modern books on this subject. FLITCH, J. E. CRAWFORD: Modern Dancing and Dancers. London, 1912. GULICK, LUTHER H.: Folk and National Dancing. New York. Vol. I. Folk Dancing, vol. II. LINCOLN, JEANETTE: Festival Book. New York, 1912. LINCOLN, JEANETTE: Maypole Possibilities. Springfield, Mass., 1912. SHARP, CECIL: The Sword Dancers of Northern England, n. d. DALCROZE, JACQUES: The Eurythmics of Jacques-Dalcroze. Intro. by M. E. Sadler. Boston, 1918. Almost the only available work in English on this subject. ANON.: Rhythmics in Russian Art. Literary Digest, l\l'- 378-9, Sept. 6, 1918. TERRY, ELLEN: The Russian Ballet. With drawings by Pamela Colman Smith. London, n. d. [1918]. The drawings are interesting. JOHNSON, A. E.: The Russian Ballet. Illus. by R. Bull. Boston, 1918. The stories of several of these dance dramas with colored plates. The best of the popular books. BURCHENAL, E. : Dances of the People. New York, i0i3. CORNISH, G. W.: Greek Drama and the Dance. Fortnightly Review, N. S. vol. 98: 290-801, Feb. 1918. 350 BIBLIOGRAPHY XXI BRANDENBURG, HANS: Der moderne Tanz. Miinchen, 19 1 3. Illus. The German books are valuable chiefly for the illustrations. LATTE, K. : De Saltionibus Grxcorum. Giessen, igi3. KINNEY, TROY, and KINNEY, M. W.: The Dance. Its place in art and life. New York, igi4- Illus. A good general book, with a few serious omissions. RATH, EMIL: Aesthetic Dancing. New York, igi4- Illus. Technique only. The title is slightly disappointing. CHALEF, Louis: The Chalif Text Book of Dancing. New York. Vol. i, iQi4- Vol. 2, 1916. By the foremost ballet master of New York. KIMMINS, G. T.: Songs from the Plays of Shakespeare with Dances. New York, 1916. NEAL, MARY: Esperance Morris Book. London, 1915. XXI SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY OF DRAMATIC, FOLK, AND FESTIVAL MUSIC HOGARTH, G.: Memoirs of the Opera in Italy, France, Germany, and England. 2 vols. London, i85l. ENGEL, CARL: The Music of the Most Ancient Nations, particularly of the Assyrians, Egyptians, and Hebrews . . . London, i864. CHOUQUET, GUSTAVE: Hisioire de la musique dramatique en France. Paris, 1873. ENGEL, CARL: Musical Instruments. London, 1876. GEVAERT, FRANCOIS AUGUSTE: Histoire et theorie de la musique de Vantiquite. 2 vols. Ghent, 1875-81. EDWARDS, HENRY S. : The Lyrical Drama. 2 vols. London, 1881. NUTTTER, C., and THOINAN, E.: Les Origines de T opera frangais. Paris, 1886. HANSIUK, E.: The Beautiful in Music. New York, 1891. DRAMATIC, FOLK, AND FESTIVAL MUSIC 351 SPENCER, HERBERT: Essays, Scientific, Political, and Speculative. "Origin and Function of Music," vol. II, pp. 400-487. Lon- don, 1892. CHAPPELL, WILLIAM: Old English Popular Music. New ed. by H. S. Woodbridge. London, 1898. ROWBOTHAN, J. F. : History of Music to the Time of the Troubadours. London, 1898. WALLASCHEK, RICHARD: Primitive Music. An enquiry into the origin and development of music, songs, instruments, dances, and pantomimes of savage races. With musical examples. London, 1898. GARDNER, A.: Songs of Scotland, chronologically arranged. Lon- don, 1898. Vol. II, 1894. GOULD, S. BARING: English Folk Songs. London, 1894. MONRO, DAVID BINNING: The Modes of Ancient Greek Music. Oxford, 1894. HOPE, ROBERT CHARLES: Mediaeval Music. London, 1894. CORDER, F. : The Orchestra and How to Write for It. New York, 1896. KREHBIELS, H. E.: Folk Songs in America. New York, 1896. ROLLAND, ROMAIN: Histoire de I' opera en Europe avant Lully et Scarlatti. Paris, 1896. RAYMOND, G. L.: Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry and Music. New York, 1896. CLARKE, JENNIE T.: Songs of the South. Philadelphia, 1896. KREHBIELS, H. E.: How to Listen to Music. New York, 1896. NAYLOR, EDWARD W.: Sfiakespeare and Music, with illustrations from the music of the 16tfi and 17th centuries. London, 1896. STURGIS, RUSSELL, and KREHBIELS, H. E. : Annotated Bibliog- raphy of Fine Arts. Boston, 1897. LAVIGNAC, ALBERT: Music Dramas of Richard Wagner. New York, 1898. LAMER, SIDNEY: Music and Poetry. New York, 1898. HENDERSON, W. G.: The Orchestra and Orchestral Music. New York, 1899. 352 BIBLIOGRAPHY XXI ELSON, L. C. : National Music of America and Its Sources. Boston, 1900. FLETCHER, ALICE: Indian Stories and Songs. Boston, 1900. ELSON, L. C.: History of American Music. New York, 1900. MACBEAN, L.: Songs and Hymns of the Gael. London, 1900. ELSON, L. C.: Shakespeare in Music. Boston, 1901. BROWN, JAMES DUFF: Characteristic Songs and Dances of All Nations. London, 1901. MEES, ARTHUR: Choirs and Choral Music. New York, 1901. ELSON, A.: A Critical History of the Opera. London, 1901. SHARP, CECIL J.: Book of British Songs. London, 1902. DICKINSON, EDWARD: Music in the History of the Western Church. New York, 1902. PARRY, C. HUBERT H.: The Music of the Seventeenth Century. Oxford, 1902. STREATFIELD, R. A.: The Opera. London, 1902. FAIHCLOUGH, H.: The Connection between Music and Poetry in Early Greek Literature. In Studies in Honor of Basil Gilder- sleeve, 1902. ELSON, A.: Orchestral Instruments and their Uses. Boston, 1908. HIPKINS, A. J.: Old Greek Music. London, 1908. MASON, D. G., and SURETTE, T. W.: From Grieg to Brahms. In- troduction, "The Appreciation of Music"; Epilogue, "The Meaning of Music." New York, 1908. NICHOLSON, S. H.: British Songs for British Boys. London, 1908. ENNIS, L. M.: Music and Art. Boston, 1904. GROVES: Dictionary of Music and Musicians. New York, 190^. A comprehensive treatment of all branches. SHARP, CECIL J. : Songs of the West. Folk songs of Devon and Cornwall. London, 1906. NAYLOR, E. W.: An Elizabethan Virginal Book. New York, 1906. FLOOD, W. M. G.: Irish Music. London, igoS. VINCENT, CHARLES J. : Fifty Shakespeare Songs. New York, 1906. CURTIS, N.: The Indians' Book. New York, 1907. ELSON, A. : Music Club Programs from all Nations. Boston, 1907. DRAMATIC, FOLK, AND FESTIVAL MUSIC 353 GLYN, MARGARET H.: Rhythmic Conception of Music. London, 1907- SHARP, CECIL J.: English Folk-song. London, 1907. AUBRY, PIERRE: La rhythmique musicale des troubadours et des trouveres. Paris, 1907. SHARP, CECIL J. : English Folk-songs, from Somerset. Folk-songs of Dorsetshire. Five series. London, 1908. AUBIN, LEON: Le Drome lyrique. Paris, 1908. DICKINSON, EDWARD: The Study of the History of Music, with an annotated guide to music literature. New York, 1908. ALLEN, PERCY: Songs of Old France. London, 1908. BURTON, F. R.: American Primitive Music, with special reference to the songs of the Ojibways. New York, 1909. MASON, DANIEL GREGORY: The Orchestral Instruments and What They Do. New York, 1909. LAVIGNAC, ALBERT: Music and Musicians. Transl. by W. Marchant. New York, 1909. JOYCE, P. W.: Irish Folk Music. London, 1909. GALPIN, FRANCIS: Old English Instruments of Music. London, 1910. Bibliography. SCHLESINGER, K. : Instruments of the Modern Orchestra. London, 1910. BUSOME, F. : Sketch of the New Aesthetic of Music. Transl. from the German by T. Baker. New York, 1911. CLAPPE, ARTHUR: The Wind Band and its Instruments. New York, 1911. BOUGHTON, R., and BUCKLEY, R. R.: Music Drama of the Future. London, 1911. PARKER, HORATIO: Music and Drama. Boston, 1911. O'NEILL, MOIRA: Songs of the Glens of Antrim. Edinburgh, 1912. McEiREN, J. B.: Thought in Music. An Inquiry into the Prin- ciples of Musical Rhythm, Phrasing, and Expression. London, 1912. NEEDHAM, M. M.: Folk Festivals. New York, 1912. 354 BIBLIOGRAPHY XXI REMINGTON, ALEXANDER: Color and Music. Preparatory notes by Sir Hubert von Herkomer and Dr. W. Brown. London, 1912. ANON.: Early Elizabethan Stage Music (with Scores). Mus. Antiquary, i: 3o-4o, Oct. 1909: 4: 112-17, J an - iQi3. COWLING, G. H.: Music on the Shakespearean Stage. London, 1918. WOOD, ALEXANDER: The Physical Basis of Music. Cambridge, 1918. FOSTER, S. C., and others: Old Plantation Melodies. New York, 1918. DYKEMA, PETER: Community Music an Opportunity. In Journal of the Proceedings and Addresses of the National Education Assoc. of the U. S. 1914, PP- 627-688. DENSMORE, F.: Chippewa Music. New York, 1911. Pt. 2, 1914. FORSYTH, C.: Orchestration of Music. London, 1914. BULLEN, F.T., and ARNOLD, W. F.: Songs of Sea Labour. London, 1914. MONTAGU-NATHAN, M.: History of Russian Music. London, 1914. XXII PASTORAL DRAMA KLEIN, J. L.: Geschichte des Dramas. Leipzig, 1867. Vol. V deals with pastoral drama. CHAMBERS, E. K.: English Pastorals. London, 1896. SMITH, HOMER: Pastoral Influence in the English Drama. In Publ. of Modern Language Association of America, vol. XII, pp. 355-46o, 1897. Greg criticizes the accuracy of detail. Brief bibliography. THORNDIKE, A. H.: The Pastoral Element in English Drama be- fore 1605. In Modern Language Notes, vol. XIV, cols. 228-246. 1899. Greg calls this " a careful and interesting article." BIBLIOGRAPHY XXII 355 MARSAN, JULES: La Pastorale dramatique. Paris, 1906. GREG, W. W.: Pastoral Poetry and Pastoral Drama. London, 1906. The most important work on this subject. Valuable bibliography. MARKS, JEANNETTE: English Pastoral Drama, from the Restora- tion to the date of the publication of the " Lyrical Ballads " (1660-1798). Bibliography. XXIII PAGEANT TEXTS [The following list is representative of a few typical pageant books which are readily accessible.^ England The Sherbourne Pageant. L. N. Parker, 1907. The Oxford Historical Pageant. 1907. Bury St. Edmunds' Pageant. L. N. Parker, 1907. Book of the Words and Music written and composed for a Pageant at Romsey Abbey. Romsey, 1907. The St. Albans' Pageant. Souvenir Book, 1907. Gloucestershire Historical Pageant. G. P. Hawtrey, Cheltenham, 1908. Chelsea Historical Pageant. Old Ranelagh Gardens. Chelsea, 1908. Dover Times' Book of Dover Pageant Pictures. Dover, 1908. Pevensey Historical Pageant. Tunbridge Wells, 1908. Souvenir and Book of the Words of the Colchester Pageant. L. N. Parker, Norwich, 1909. Book of the English Church Pageant. Fulham Palace, I/ondon, The Book of the York Pageant. York, 1909. Historic and Heraldic Guide to the York Pageant. York, 1909. Chester Historical Pageant. Chester, 1910. Book of the Army Pageant. Fulhum Palace, London, 1910. 356 BIBLIOGRAPHY XXIII I The Book of the Rotherhithe Church Pageant. J. C. V. Durrell, 1910. Hertford Pageant. Charles H. Ashdown. 191 !\. America, [Miscellaneous examples of pageant texts'] Indoor pageantry. Book of the Words of the Pageant of the Italian Renaissance. T. W. Stevens, Chicago, 1909. Pageant drama. The Bridge of the Gods, a Pageant Drama of the Great Northwest. Mabel Ferris, Astoria, Oregon, 1911. Patriotic holiday type. Pageant for Independence Day. T. W. Stevens and K. S. Goodman, 1911. Historical type. The Words of the Pageant of Philadelphia. F. H. Williams, 1912. Festival drama on Robin Hood legends. Robin of Sherwood. Jack R. Crawford, New Haven, Conn., 1912. Lyrical pageant. Daughter of Dawn. Bliss Carman and M. P. King, 1918. Historical pageant of a smaller community. Book of the Words of the Pageant of Darien. W. C. Langdon, ipi3. Combination of historical pageant and masque. The Pageant and Masque of St. Louis. T. W. Stevens and Percy Mackaye, 1914. Mediaeval pageant intended for indoor production. A Pageant of the XHIth Century. John Erskine, Columbia University, 1914. Rural historical pageant. Pageant of the Machias Valley, Maine. Virginia Tanner, 1914. BIBLIOGRAPHY XXIII 357 A Pageant of the North West. University of North Dakota, F. H. Koch, 1914. The Pageant of the Mohawk Trail. Margaret Maclaren Eager, 1914. Industrialism as pageant material. The Romance of Work. Outline in program. Mary Porter Beegle, igi/i- Historical pageant indoor type. The Pageant of Elizabeth. Mary Porter Beegle and Jack R. Crawford, igi4- Processional pageant. Stonington Battle Centennial. Outline in program. Vir- ginia Tanner, igi4- Masque on a large scale. Stiakespeare Tercentenary Celebration. Caliban by the Yellow Sands. Percy Mackaye, 1916. Amphitheatre pageant on a large scale. The Yale Pageant Book. New Haven, Conn. F. Markoe and group of authors, 1916. INDEX Academe, grove of, 65. Accessories, see Properties. Acoustics, 217 Acting, 102, Chap. V, i35. Acting and Actors, 126 note. Action, i3, 19, 56, 58, 67, 79, 82, 86, 89, io4, n5, 128, 128, i34-5, i3g, aor, 2o5, 207, 212-16, 224, 281. Actors and the Art of Acting, 128 note. Adaptation, i4, 80, note. dUneas' Descent into Hades, 89 note. /Eschylus, 3, 8. Agincourt, 87. Aisles, 268-9. Aladdin, 102. Allegory, 28, 27, 4 1-2, 5o, 52, 61, 63-6, 70, 72, i54, 201-2. Alto, 246. Ambulance, 269. America, Pageant of, 201-2. Amphitheatre, see also Production, 29. Anachronisms, 59. Anthem, national, 254. Antimasque, 'i i note. Appia, Adolph, 75 note. Aristotle, 71 note. Armor, see also Weapons, 179-80. Army Pageant, 25. Art of the Ballet, 196 note. Art and the Formation of Taste, i5i note. Art of the Theatre, 182 note, 187 note, i\\ note. Art theatrale moderne, 76 note. Arthur, King, 89, 208. Articulation, 117-18. Ashdown, Charles H., 5i note. Assyria, 65. Athenian tragedy, see Drama, Greek, and Tragedy. Atmosphere, see Mood and Tone. Auditors, financial, 268. Ausslellung der Buhnenentwurfe, i4i note. Ayres, Alfred, 126 note. B Babylonians, i5j. Bach, 187 note. Background, see Setting. Bakst, Leon, 202. Balance, orchestral, 246-5o. Bale, Bishop John, 9. Ball, John, 33. Ballet, see Dance. Ballet ambulatoire, 28. Band, see Wind Instruments. Bapst, 3g note. Barker, Granville, 71. Barry, 188 note. Bass, 246, 248. Bass clarinet, 2/48, 25o. Bass drum, 249. Bassoons, a48, 25o. Beethoven, 187 note. Bells, u5o. Bergen, 101. 360 INDEX Bible, 1 55, iSy. Black Art, i5y. Blue Bird, 77. Borromee, Cardinal, 28. Boxes, 269. Brahma, i54 Brangwyn, Frank, i43. Brass, see Wind Instruments. Brieux, 71. Britons, 167. Bryn Mawr College, 34- Budget, financial, 26o-65. Cadmus, 65. Caesar, Julius, 20. Caffin, n5 note, 127 note. Call boys, 275-6. Cambrai, 3o note. Canonization, 28. Canterbury cathedral, a5. Cape Cod Pageant, 29 note. Carnival, 3o. Carrousel, 29. Cast, see also Acting, 270-1. Cavalcade, 3o. Cello, see Violoncello. Celtic myths, see also Legends, 2o3. Censor, historical, 44, 270. Central Park, 34 note, 192. Centre, see Stage, centre. Ceremonial dance, see Dance. Ceremonies, see also Dance, and Festivals, 27. Chambers, E. K., 35 note. Chamfort, 58 note. Chance, 67. Character interpretation, see also Acting, 116, 120-4- Character play, 68. Characterization, 67-8, 60-1, 67-9, 74. Chevreul, M. Z., 172 note. China, i55. Chinese music, 243. Chorus, 20, 83, i3o note, i36 note, i44, 206, 238, 240-1, 252-4. Chresiiente malade, 25 note. Christian art, i54- Christmas, 27, 33, i58. Chronicle-history play, 3?. Church, English, Pageant, 25, 63. Clarinets, 248, 25o. Clement, C. E., i58 note. Climax, 54, 57-8, 123, i34-5, 198, 2o4-5, 207-9, 2I2 ' 2 35. Cold colors, see Color. College of New Jersey, 23. College pageants, 26, 34. Colloquialisms, 59. Color, 96, 98, i44. Chap. VI, 198, 203, 235, 24 1. Color scale, see Color. Comedy, 71-2, 77, 81, 97. Committee, see also Organization. art, 272-3. book, 270. cast, 270. costume, 272-4. dance, 271. finance, 260, 262. general, 256-7. grounds, 267-9. make-up, 276-7. music, 271. production, 270. properties, 274-5. publicity, 264-6, 270, rehearsal, 271. stage-management, 276-7. sub, 258-9. Communication to My Friends, 77 note. Compan, 191 note. Complementary colors, see Color. Composer, see Music director. INDEX 361 Composition, pictorial, 79 note, 84, io3, i3o-i46, i48, 226. Concertina, 243. Concerts, 246. Concord, Mass., 19. Conde, 3o note. Conde, Prince de, 29. Conflict, see also Drama technique, 67. Continuity, principle of, i45-6. Contrabassoon, 248, 25o. Contrast, principle of, 128, i45-6, i53, i64~5, 167, 171, 204, 208, 2ii-i3, 226-7, 2 32, 248. Contrasting colors, see Color. Conventions, indoor, 94, 96, 101-2, io5, 119, 124. outdoor, 87-9, 124- musical, 243. Cornets, 249~5o. Cornwallis, Lord, i33 4- Costume, 168, Chap. VIII. Costuming, 102, 142, 169, ao4, 220. Craig, Gordon, 3, 5, 8, 78 note, i32 note, 1 36 note, 187 note, i4i note, 1 44 note, 187 and note, 188. Crane, Lucy, i5i note. Crane, Walter, 35 note, i35, 169 note, 162 note. Credit, see Guarantee fund. Crowds, see also Production, 269. Crowning of Constancy, 39 note. Cue, 123, 228, 252-4, 276. Curtain, 109, i35. Customs, village, see also Festivals, 34, 201. Cyclorama, see also Setting, io4. Cymbals, a5o. D Dalcroze, Jacques, 190 note. Dance, the, Chap. IX, 235, 252-3, 266. Dance, ceremonial, see Dance, illus- trative, and Festivals. Dance, director, 62, 2o4-5, 24o. drama, see Drama, dance. folk, see Dance, and Festivals. illustrative, 199-200, 206. interludes, see Interludes, dance. intrepretive, see Dance. plot, 198-9, 224. Pyrrhic, 207. solo, i38, 175, 198, 200, 2i4-i5, 228-33. Declamation, 119. Dell Theatre, 268 note. Design, decorative, see also Setting, g4-5, 98, iox-3, i4i-, 173-4. costume, see Costume. Dialogue, i3, 19, 53-4, 56, 58-6o, 78, 76, 101, no, 127, i38, 2o5, 243. Dickinson, T. H., 5o note. Diction, see Acting, and Voice Pro- duction. Dictionnaire de danse, 191 note. de musique, 118 note. da theatre, 176 note. Dieu Bleu, 199. Dimmers, in. Dionysus, 8. Disraeli, 68 note. Doctor, 269. Doll's House, 71. Don Csesar de Bazan, 79. Douai, 3o. Double basses, 247, 25o-i. Drake, 38. Drama, The, 117 note, 120 note, 121 note, 1 29 note. Drama, Arcadian, see Pastorals. dance, 198-9, 201-2. Elizabethan, 3. folk, see also Festivals, 10. Greek, 3. 4, 8, 88, 96, i36 note, 234, 236, 24a-3. Italian, see Pastorals. oriental, 9. 362 INDEX Drama, origins, see also Drama, Greek, Festivals, Miracle plays, Morality plays, 8. pageant, 36-g. pastoral, see Pastorals. Drama of Savage Peoples, ig4 note. Drama, technique of, 66-74. Dramatic, 55, 68, i65. Dreams, use of, a3. Dress-maker, see also Costume, 278. Dressing tents, 276. Drop, see also Cyclorama, and Set- ting, i < >'i. Druidic, i54. Drums, 25o. Ducasse, 3o note. Duncan, Isadora, 191, ig5. Dyeing, i5g, 161, i83-4- E Eager, Margaret Maclaren, 22 note, 5 1 note. Education, Pageant of, 26, 64. Education, pageantry as a form of, see Pageantry. Edwards, Richard Henry, 192 note. Elements of Drawing, innate, i5i note. Elizabeth, New Jersey, Pageant of, 28, 202. Elizabeth, Queen, 20. Elizabethan drama, see Drama, Elizabethan. Ellis, William Ash ton, 67 note. Elocution, see Acting, and Voice Production. Elsler, Fanny, ig5. Emphasis, 67, 70-2, 79, 101, 118-19, i65, 226. Encores, 254. Enghien, due d\ 29. Entrances, 82-8, 85, 87, 107, 109, 188, 2o4-5, 2i3-i4, 216, 221, 227-8, 269, 276. Episodes, allegorical, see also Alle- gory, 27. chronological arrangement of, 19. dramatic, 52, 55-6, 85-6, 97, 242. epic or narrative, 19, 52, 54. historical, a4, 40-54, 78, io5, 166-8, 266. kinetic, see also Grouping, 53, i34-5. static, see also Grouping, 53, i33-4. pictorial, see also Grouping, 52-4, 61. Erler, Fritz, i4i note. Essentials of Aesthetics, i5o note. Estimates, see Budget. Euripides, 4, 8. Evans, H. A., 4i. Exits, 28, 82-8, 85, 87, 107, 109, i38, 2O4~5, 2IO, 2l3, 2l5-l6, 222, 227-8, 254, 276. Expenditure, see Budget. Expenditure sheet, see also Budget, 263-4. Exposition, 89. Expression, facial, see also Acting, 120, 127, 229. Fairies, 87, i56, 208, 2i4-i5, 228. Farce, 71-2. Faust, i4i note. Fencing, 124. Festivals, agricultural, 33, 201. general, 27, 92, 207. Festival of the Giant, 3o. Festivals, Greek, 8, i4, 178-4, 198-4. Festival of the Incas, 3o. Festivals, lyric quality of, 3i. mediaeval, 27, i54. modern, 3i, 77, 192, 2012. Renaissance, 27. INDEX 363 Festival spirit, 3u. Festivals, spring, i4- Fiddle, see also Violins, 243. Figures, see Grouping. Finale, see Exits. Financial statement, see also Budget, 2 63. Fire, Pageant of, 65-6. Fire protection, 269. Floats, use of, 28, 82, 4o. Flood lights, see Lighting. Flutes, 248, 260. Folk-dance, see Dance, and Festivals. Folk-drama, see Drama, folk. Folk-lore, 22, 34, 36, 3g, i56, 2O2-3, 221, 232. Folk-songs, see Music, and Festivals. Footlights, see Lighting. Form, structural, see also Chap. Ill, 22, i35. Fourth of July, 27, 3i. Frame, see Proscenium. Frieze, i42-3, 174. Front of the house, 260. Fuchs, Georg, i42 note. Gabler, Hedda, 100. Gainsborough, i44- Galsworthy, 71 note. Garnett, Professor, 34- Garrick, IIQ. Gesture, tee alto Acting, 119-21, 126, 128, 223, 22Q. Globe Theatre, 6. Glossen zum Theater der Fiinftautend, iSSnote. Gong, 25o. Good Friday, i55. Gray, 234- Grandstand, 268-9. Greek chorus, tee Chorus. Greek drama, tee Drama, Greek. Greg, W. W., 42 note. Grounds, 266-69. Grouping, 82, 84, 94-5, 97-8, 107, no, n5, Chap. VI, 160, i65, 173-5, 181, 210, 212-14, 226-7, 229, 23i. Groups, processional, 108, i38, 229. recessional, 83, i38. Group leaders, 270. Group-system of authorship, 44-5. Guarantee fund, 262-3. Guise, due de, 29. Gymkhana, 29. H Halloween, 27. Hamlet, 119. Hamlet, i4i note. Handbook of Legendary and Mytho- logical Art, iSSnote. Hanover, N. H., 3g note. Harmony, 97-8, 117 note, IIQ, i3o, i32, iS?, i46, i5i, i58, 160, 162-5, 168, 170-1, 174, 2o5, 242. Harp, 248. Harvest Home, 27, 201-2. Havemeyer, Loomis, 194 note. Henry the Fifth, 5, S?-^. Heraldry, i55-8. Hero and Leander, 3g note. Hertford Pageant, 5i and note. Hill School, 268 note. History, see Episodes, historical, and Allegory. Holidays, celebration of, see also Festivals, 3i-2, 34-6. Holinshed, 59. Hood, Robin, 35, 3g, i56, ao3. Horace, 12. Hori/xjn. see Cyclorama. Horn, alto, 249. Horn, English, 248. Horn, French, 249~5o. 364 INDEX Horns, 248-5o. Hospital tent, 269. Hudson-Fulion Celebration, New York, 28. Hues, see Color. Hulme, F. Edward, 168 note. Hymns, see also Anthem, 254. Ibsen, 71. Idea play, 70-1. Iliad, 1 90. Illumination, see Lighting. Illusion, theatrical, 5, 69, 77 and note, 78-9, 84, 86-7, 97, io5-, ii4, 127, i33, i4i, i43, 178, 200, 243. Illustrative dance, see Dance, illus- trative. Imagination, 24, 27, 64, 74, 85-6, 89, 97-8, 106, in, u4, i34, 226. Incidental music, see Music. Income, 260-2, 268. Independence Day, see also Fourth of July, 3i. Declaration of, 3i. Indian music, 243. Indians, American, see oho Drama, pageant, Drama, dance, 22. Inscenierung, see also Production, Setting, 75 note. Institutions, see also Pageantry, insti- tutional, 25. Interchange, Principle of, i46. Interiors, see also Setting, 4- Interludes, allegorical, see also Alle- gory, 19, ai-4, 61, 64, 89, i4a, 168-9, i?4- choral, see also Chorus, 61-2. dance, 62, no, i38, i53, 198, 201-2, 206, 224, 24o-i. Intonation, 121 note, 128. Irving, Henry, 117 note, 120 note, 121 note, 129 note. Isis River, 83 note. Italian drama, see Pastorals. Ivanov, M., 77 note. Jews, 157. Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 77 note. Jousting, 3o. Judas, 1 57 Rahane, Arthur, i38 note. Kettle-drums, 249. Key colors, see Color. Labor Day, 27, 32. Lamb, Charles, 35 note. Langdon, William Chauncey, 3i. Leaping, see also Dance, 210-11, 222. Lectures on Painting, i33 note. Legends, see also Folk-lore, 22, 36, 3g, 49, 201-2, 266. Legrand, Mile., 76. Lent, i54 5, 157. Lessing, 3. Letharby, W. R., i5i note. Lewes, George Henry, 123 note. Liber Clericorum, i56 note. Liber Sacerdotal is, i56 note. Light, see also Color, Costuming, and Setting, 76, 78, 93, i44, i47, 171. Lighting, 89-93, 95, io3-6, 111-12, i38-i4i, i48, 170-4, 187-9, 2 53, 260. Lincoln's Birthday, 32. Line, see also Mass, i35~7, i38 note, iSg, i4i-2, i45, 180-1. Line and Form, i35 note, ibg note. Lisbon, 28. Louis XI, 68 note. Louis XIII, 29. INDEX 365 M Machinerie theatrale, 161 note. Mackaye, Percy, a4 note, 4i. Macready, 120 note. Maeterlinck, 77, i4a note. Magic, see Black Art. Magic of the Hills, 3g-4o, i53, 199, 209, 28 1-3. Make-up, 276-7. Malingre, Mathieu, 26 note. Marks, Jeanette, 4a note. Mary, Queen of Scots, i55. Masque, Elizabethan, 34- modern, l\i and note, 4a-3. Masque of Days, 35 note. Masque of the Mediaeval Curriculum, 20. Masque of Proserpine, 34- Masque of St. Louis, 24, 4i. Mass, see also Line, i36-7, i42, i44~5, i47, 161-2, 168, 180-1, 210, 227. Materials, costume, see Costume. Materials, historical, 45. May Day, 27, 33-4, 35 note, 200. May, Pageant of, 34- May Pole, see also May Day, 34, 200. May, Revels of, 34- Medley, see also Music, 243. Melodrama, 71. Melody, see also Music, 242-3, 248. Metal Work, see aUo Properties, i85-6. Meyerhold, i fa note. Middle Ages, 9, i54, i56. Midsummer Night's Dream, 5, 87. Mimetic, see Pantomime. Mimo-dance drama, see Drama, dance. Minuet, see also Dance, illustrative, 200. Miracle plays, see also Mysteries, 8-fl. 1 4- 1 5. ModerweH, H. K., 76 note, 98 note, 99 note. Mohawk Trail, Pageant of, 22 note. Mood, see also Tone, 73-4, 76, i3o, i52, i58, i65, 188, 198, 201, ao4-8, 2l3-l4, 222, 23l-2, 234, 24o~I, 244. Morality plays, 9, 64- Morris dance, see also Dance, illus- trative, 35, 192, 200, 243. Mori de Tintagiles, i42 note. Moses, 1 58. Motif, see also Music, 212, 24o. Mount Vernon, 38. Movement, see also Acting, Dance, Gesture, Grouping, 76, 78, 96, 120, i34-6, 189, i43, i47, 160, 197-8, 2o3-4, 206, 2io-i5, 222-4, 226-7, 229-30, 235. Moynet, Georges, 161 note. Music, i52, ao4, 226-7, Chap. X, 226. composer, see Music, director, director, 62, 2o4-5, 233, 236-8, 24o, 244, 246, 253-4. drama, see Drama, dance, original, see also Music, 62, 238. Musik und die Inscenierung, 75 note. Mysteries, see also Miracle plays, 8. Mythology, classic, 3o, 36, 3g. Myths, see also Legends, 22. N Natural dancing, see Dance. Nature Spirits, see Allegory. Naval pageants, 28-9. Navy, Pageant of, 25. Neutral colors, see Color. New Amsterdam, 181. Newark, New Jersey, 2f>7 note. New York, 28, 33, 34 note. Nietzsche, i3i note. North Adams, Mass., 22 note. North's Plutarch, 5g. Nuree, 269. 366 INDEX o Oboes, a48, a5o. Obstacle, see also Drama technique, 67. Orchestra, see also Music, 227, 288, 244-53. Orchestration, see also Music, 206, 288, 244, 253. Order slips, 263-4. Organization, Chap. XI. Orleans, le mystere du siege d', 21 note. Osiris, i54. Oxford, Pageant of, 20, 83 note. Pageant drama, see Drama, pageant. Pageantry, American type, 19, 2i-3. basis of, 1 8. Carrousel type, 29. educational value of, n. English type, 19. historical, 18-19, 77, 87, 89. idea type, 29. indoors, see also Production, 92- 94, io5. institutional (social and civic) type, 25, 64. limitations of, 18, 3j, 89. material of, see also Chap. II, i3. naval type, 28, 29. practical value of, 11-12. preserver of traditions, i5. principles of, Chap. I. processional type, 28, 3o, 32-3, 4o-4a. purposes of, 7, 17, 35, 43, 5o, 236-7. as recreation, 16. as reform, social, n. structure of, Chap. III. types of, Chap. II. Panama Canal, 78. Pandora, History of, 3g note. Panorama, see Cyclorama. Pantomime, see also Acting, Gesture, 19, 53, 121, 174, 202, 207, 23o, 282, 235. Pantomimic dance, see Dance, Drama, dance. Paris, 29. Paris Opera, 3g note, 76 note. Parker, Louis N., 17, 19, 26, 38-9. Parking space, 267. Patronesses, 266. Pelleas et Melisande, 77. Pennell, Joseph, 78, i43. Percussion instruments, 242, 24?, s5o. Personification, see Allegory. Perspective, see also Production, Set- ting, 82, 102-4, 109, i38~9, i4i-5, 226. Perugini, 196 note. Petrouchka, 199. Petty cash, 263-4. Piano-forte, a52-3, 271. Piccolo, 248. Piece-a-these, 69. Pipe and tabor, 243. Pitch, 25o. Place Royale, 29. Plattsburgh Centennial Celebration, 5i. Plays, Acting, and Music, i3o note, i3i note. Plays, see Drama. Plays, religious, see also Miracle and Morality plays, Mysteries, i4- Plot, see Drama technique, Pagean- try, structure of. Poel, William, 44- Poetics, 71 note. Police, 269. Popular Amusements, 192 note. Portugal, 27. Pose, see also Acting, Dance, 119, i43, i46, 196, 223. Positive colors, see Color. INDEX 367 Posters, 272. Pougin, 176 note. Primary colors, see Color. Primitive music, see Music. Principles of Harmony and Contrast of Colors, 172 note. Principles of Pageantry, Chap. I. Processional groups, see Grouping. Processional pageants, see Pageantry, processional. Producer, problems of, see also Pro- duction, 78-9. Production, definition of, 76. methods of, Chap. IV. Programs, 268, 272. Progress of Poesy, 284. Prologue, see also Pageantry, struc- ture of, 89. Prometheus, 65. Prompter, 276. Properties, 88, in, i85-6, 228, a44. Proportion, 78, 79-80, 96-8, io3-4, i3o, 187, i5o, i65, 267. Proscenium, 109. Publicity, see also Committee, pub- licity, 269-60, 264-6, 270. Pyrrhic dance, 207. Quadrille, on horseback, 29. Quartette, 246. Quartette, brass, 249. Queen Elizabeth, tee Elizabeth, Queen. Queen of the tournament, ."<>. Radiation, see Line. Ramps, 109. Raymond, George Lansing, i5o note, 1 52 note. Realistic treatment, see. also Drama technique, Pageantry, structure of. Production, 78-4, 77, 79, 100-2, io5, i4i-2, i?3. Recessional groups, see Grouping. Recreation through pageantry, see Pageantry, recreation. Recreative dancing, see Dance, recrea- tive. Reed, Professor E. B., 26 note. Reformation, 9. Refreshments, 268-9. Regisseur, see also Producer, 76 note, 77 note. Register, musical, a46. Rehearsals, see also Acting, Produc- tion, 116, i3i-2, 2o5, Chap. IX, pt. 2, 244-6, 249, 253, 271, 276. Reinhardt, Max, i36 note. Religion in drama, see Drama, Greek, Festivals, Miracle Plays, Mys- teries. Rembrandt, 187. Renaissance, 9, 26. Renaissance, Literary Criticism in the, 71 note. Repetition, i36, i44-5, 206, 208, 211-12, 254. Revolution des Theaters, i42 note. Reynolds, Sir Joshua, i43. Rhythm, see Music, Dance. Rhythmic progression, see also Dance, 2o5, 208, 211. Richelieu, 68 note. Rochelle, 25 note. Roman Emperors, 15?. Romantic treatment, see also Design, decorative, 78, 100. Rouche, Jacques, 76. Rousseau, Jean Jacques, 1 18 note. Running, see also Dance, 210-11, 222. Russian ballet, 109, 202-8. Russian dance drama, see Dance, drama. 368 INDEX Ruskin, i45, i4? note, i5i note, i5g note, 161 note. Satan, i5y. Sf. Albans, Pageant of, 20, i5a, a5a, 267. St. Frideswide, 20. St. George, 63. St. Giles' Fair, 20. St. Jerome, i54- St. Louis, Pageant of, a4, a5a. St. Paul, Minn., 33. Scale, see also Proportion, i3, 4i 79-81, 96-8, io3, i4o. Scale of colors, see Color. Scene, see Episodes, and Setting. Scenery, see also Setting, 84, 86, 88, 94, 96, loo, 102, io5-6, i4i, 170. Science, Pageant of, 26. Score, musical, see Music. Screens, see also Scenery and Setting, 85, 109, 186-3. Sea-chanties, 24o. Seats, see Grandstand, and Produc- tion. Secretary of the pageant, 269-60. Selected music, see Music. Servandoni, 3g note. Setting, see also Production, 79, 83-8, QI, 94~7 1 100-2, io4-5, 109, n4, i48, i5i, i54, i58, 170, 186-9, 22 8, 241. Shades, see Color. Shakespeare, 4-5, 37-39, 69, 77 note, i56. Sharp, Cecil, 192. Sherbourne, 17, 19, 26. Ships, use of, see Pageantry, naval. Sidney, Sir Philip, 5, 4a note. Silhouette, costume, see Costume. Singing, see Chorus, and Music. Skipping, see also Dance, 223. Sleeper, Professor, 245. Smith College, a45. Snare drums, 249. Song, see Chorus and Music. Sophocles, 3, 8. Soprano, a46. Sound, see also Dialogue, and Music, 76, 78, 96, 1 47, 198, ao4, 244. Spirit of the production, see Produc- tion. Spirits, nature, see Allegory. Spoken words, see Dialogue. Spot lights, see Lighting. Stage, back (rear), 8o-84, 87, io4, 107-8, i4i. business, see also Acting, 116 and note, 119. centre, 84 note, i38. directions, see also Production, 53. domed, io4. Elizabethan, 4, 6, a5, 77, u4- fore, 80, 82, 88, 96-7, io4, 107-8, no, iia, i38, i4o-i, i43, 228, 23O, 25l-2. indoor, 80, 85, 93, 106, i4i-5, 170-3, 228, 247, 260-1. intimate, see Stage, fore, lighting, see Lighting, middle, 8o-84, 87, i38-g, i4i. models, i46, i48, 160-1, i63, 170, 188. outdoor, see also Dance, 4* i3, 8o-5, i34-5, i38-4i, i45, 247, a4g-5a. plans, 80, 107-10. presence, see also Acting, and Dance, 1 19. setting, see Setting, tri-partite, 80, 82, 86, 89, 108. Staging, see Production. Stained Glass Work, i5i note. Stanislavsky, i42 note. INDEX 369 Steps, see also Dance, 210-11, 23i-2. Stevens, Henry Wood, 24 note. Story play, see also Drama technique, 68. Stratford-on-Avon, 192. Stringed instruments, 247-8, 260-1. Structure, dance, see Dance. Structure, drama, see Drama tech- nique. Structure, pageant, see Pageant, structure. St y lisa t ion, see also Production, 99- io3, 189. Sumurun, 199. Suspense, see also Drama technique, 208, 211, 2i3. Symbolism, see also Allegory, 63-6, i54-5, 199-201, 2i4, 221. Symbolism in Christian Art, i58 note. Symmetry, see also Production, 84, 187, i39, i44. Symons, Arthur, i3o note, i3i note. Tableau, see also Episode, static, 53, i?4-5. Tabor and pipe, 243. Taglioni, Mme., 196. Taine, 96. Talma, 119. Technique, dance, see Dance. drama, see Drama, technique, pageant, see Pageantry, struc- ture. Tempo, 117, 198, ao4, 206, 208, a 1 2-1 3, 226, 253. Tenor, 246. Thamar, 199. Thanksgiving, 27. Theatre, see Production, and Stage, indoor. Theatre, Greek, see also Drama, Greek, 4. "4- Theatre, pageant, see Stage, indoors. Theatre, Portmanteau, 33. Theatre of Today, 76 note, 98 note, 99 note. Theme play, see also Drama, tech- nique, and Piece-a-these, 69-71. Thomas a Becket, 25. Three Daughters of M. Dupont, 71. Ticket booths, 269. Time, see also Pageant, structure, 52, 5g, 121, 2o4, 224. Tints, see Color. Tolstoi, io5. Tone, see also Mood, 87, 73-4, 76, 117 note, i48, i5a, i58, i65, 174, 188, 198, 247, a49-5o, 262. Towards a New Theatre, 3, i36 note. Trades' Guilds, 8. Traditions, see Chap. I and Chap. II. Tragedy, 71-2, 77, 97, i3i note, i53, 236, 243. Transportation, 266-7. Traps (drums), 260. Treasurer, 262-4. Triangle, 260. Trinity, Feast of the, i56. Triumphs, mediaeval, i4, 4o. Trombones, 248-5o. Trumpets, 248-5o. Tuba, 248-9. Tuileries, 29, 39 note. Twirling, see also Dance, 210-11, 222. Tympani, 260. U Ulysses, Various Adventures of, 3g note. Unity, i3, 19, 38, 72-4, 88-9, 91, 96, io3, io5-f>, 129 note, i32, i36-7, i44. 1 46, 234, a54. University pageants, see also Pagean- try, institutional, 26. Ushers, 268. 370 INDEX Valenciennes, 3o. Variety, 81, 118, ia3, i36-8, 188, 2i3, 226, 24?. Verulamium, 20, 267. Vestal virgins, i54. View, 82-4. Vintage, 201-2. Violas, 247-8, 260. Violins, 24?, 260-1, a53. Violoncellos, 247-8, 25o-i. Virgin Mary, i54. Vision, see also Dreams, 22-24, 5o. Vista, see View. Voice production, see also Acting, 117-18. Vouchers, see Order slips. Von Bezold, i49- W Wagner, Richard, 10, 17, 45, 67 note, 76 note, i3o, 236, 23g. Walker, Stuart, 33. Walking, see also Acting, and Dance, 210-11, 222. Walla Walla, Washington, 34. Wardrobe mistress, see also Costume, 273-4. Warm colors, see Color. Washington's Birthday, 27, 32. Washington, George, 38, 52-3, i33-4. Waste, 71 note. Weapons, see also Properties, i85, 276. Whitsuntide, i55, 192. William the Conqueror, 25. Wind instruments, 247~5i. Wings, 83, 276. Wornum, R. N., i33 note. Y Yale, 26. Yale Pageant, 45. Yeats, W. B., 77. Z Zeus, 1 54. .Library PH3203B39C A 001 101 657 3