Faces Of The Footlights

121 683

FACE THE FOOTLIGHTS!

FACE
THE FOOTLIGHTS

JLew ana -L tactical ^Jipp\oac\i
to

BY
E. B. (Ze^e) COLVAN

WHITTLESEY HOUSE London
MCGRAW-HILL BOOK COMPANY, INC.

To my wire

DORIS COLVAN

without whose help this book could not
nave teen written

mace

WHEN a young actor is told by a theatrical manager that he
is not suited to a part, nine times out of ten the reason given
is inexperience.

The producer is looking for someone who can handle the part
with a reasonable degree of sureness. He has neither the time nor
the inclination to gamble with hidden talent, which, although
fresh and spontaneous in many cases, will seem to the audience
in the theater nothing short of amateurish. The producer wants,
and is usually able to get, an experienced actor to fill the part.

Experience! What is it, anyway?

Webster calls it "knowledge derived from one's past actions,"
and if ever a meaning fitted a case, this one does, so far as the
theater is concerned. For the man or woman who hasn't a practical
knowledge of the stage, derived from past performances, hasn't a
chance in this busy world. Before he can hope to get started in the
theater, he must manage somehow to acquire this working knowl-
edge and make it a part of his personal equipment.

The question, then, is: How and where is the young pkyer
to get experience?

In the old days, the answer was easy. "Join a stock company
and learn the things you need to know" was the universal advice
of the old performer to the stage-struck boy and girl. "If it's in
you, the stock company work will bring it out."

VU1 PREFACE

In stock, the actors had the benefit of expert direction. The
best directors of the day (many of our well-trained Broadway
directors sprang from that source) were part of the stock company
setup. Weekly, season in and season out, they were on the job,
producing one play by night and directing another by day.

Parts were necessarily varied. In one season of stock, the new
player did everything from "The Count of Monte Cristo" to
"Charley's Aunt," with chorus work on slim weeks and spear
carrying when there wasn't anything else to do. He had a lot to
learn, and he learned it.

In one show, he picked up a trick of make-up; in another, how
to throw his voice over the footlights; in a third, the right way to
stand and walk. If he had any intelligence at all, by the end of the
season he had gained this working knowledge. He had experience
to offer a producer when he applied for a job.

But now it's a different story. The stock companies are gone,
and the modern plays, such as they are, are few and far between.
If an actor takes what he can get from time to time (and what
alternative has he?), he'll have to go on for years before he has this
experience.

An occasional engagement never gave any young actor enough
practical experience to lift him out of the ran\s of the amateur.

Let us assume, for instance, that the actor gets a break. Because ,
he is slight and fair and has the appealing face of a young choirboy,
he is cast in a juvenile part in a Broadway play of prep school life.
The director takes the kd in hand; he coaches him carefully until
the actor is, in truth, the boy of the play. In one part, at least,
he is a success.

If the actor is alert, and a good student, he may get more
from the season's work than the ability to portray one character
well. If he watches the other actors make their moves and crosses,
if he studies their gestures and listens to their voice intonations
in lighting and shading of speech, he may, by watching carefully,
pick up objective information on acting. But this information will
remain objective and nothing more until the actor ma\es it his own

PREFACE IX

by practice. ?s[ot until he has used this new information through
actual performance will be have gained experience.

Of course, there's a chance that the boy isn't what we call a
student. He may be just an actor, who, when he gets a small part
after a long wait, is satisfied to rest on his glory. He may have
only two or three lines, but, technically speaking, if he wants to,
he can boast that he has "had experience." When he goes back
to the first manager who turned him down, he can say in all
honesty, "I've just finished a season in 'What's Wrong with
Your Life?'"

The statement may impress the producer. He may hand the
actor a part and tell him to read it which the boy will do, of
course. And then, despite the full season in "What's Wrong with
Your Life?" he will get the same answer: "Inexperience!"

In my twenty-five years' experience in the theater as actor,
director, and producer, I have run up against all the phases of
inexperience. The new actor is not the only one who suffers this
lack. I have met men and women, thoroughly at home when they
appeared before an audience, who were totally lacking in what I
term "theatrical working knowledge." Radio,- concert, and
vaudeville stars even highly paid grand opera singers have
come to me with full assurance that they were experienced in the
theater, only to find, when confronted with a part, that they were
novices.

So limited had been their scope that they remained individuals
merely, not stage performers in the fullest sense.

The reason for this limitation is obvious. Move a radio singer
or actor a few steps from the microphone and see how terrified he
becomes. If you check on her, you will see that the average con'
cert singer never wanders far from the piano. Certainly the
vaudeville single, working close to the footlights in the spot
called the "apron" and speaking directly to the audience, is lost
when you shove him around the stage and call on him to integrate
his performance with that of the other players into a smooth
working unit.

X PREFACE

All these people are tops in their fields, but so highly specialised
are their performances that they have developed only one side of
their art. In the theater, all sides must be developed. What an actor
does, no matter how important or unimportant, is interdependent
uppn the work of the other players. Even the star must depend
on his supporting cast.

I have said that theatrical experience is knowledge put into
practice. And I believe that an intelligent person can make this
knowledge a part of his equipment before he sets foot on a stage
if he learns certain fundamental rules. In the theater, we must
have a standard to go by; everything we do is based on the rules
that go to make this standard. If sometimes the rules become
outmoded and have to be changed, that's all right, too. But before
an actor can break a rule and make a new one, he must understand
the basis of the original rule. Traditions may be called stilted, but
basic principles of acting remain just what they have always been:
solid and usable.

Many books have been written on acting, mainly on what to
do in the theater and what not to do. But so far as I know, no one has
ever written a book on ""how to" do the things that have to be done.

It is my purpose to attempt such a book, a practical "how to"
discussion of the problems of acting. I do not propose to show a
young man how Richard Mansfield put over a shoulder shrug in
"Richard the Third" or a budding actress the secret of how
Maude Adams played "L'Aiglon." My purpose, rather, is to see
that he learns a set of stage mechanics, similar to those which I
have taught to hundreds of young actors in my years in the
theater, which, when he has mastered them, will become his own
and give him theatrical experience.

Acting can be learned.

The saying that an actor is born, not made, is not more truthful
than that one is born a writer or musician or painter. Talent^ in
most cases, is the capacity for learning, plus intelligence and
emotional depths. Given these three qualities, and the ability to
sticJ^ there is no reason why a young person's acting should not
develop into a fine art.

PREFACE XI

If he feels that he simply must act and that nothing else in the
world will satisfy him, the chances are that, with proper study, he
will make good. If he doesn't feel that way, he'd better take up
law or banking. The theater isn't for dilettantes.

In my years in the theater, the training of American actors has
definitely advanced, but it still has far to go. There should be an
American Theater, headed by an American director, where the
young American student can learn his craft.

Americans, as people, differ from Europeans in thought,
tempo, mannerisms, sentiments, and reactions; and Americans, as
actors, should reflect these national qualities.

Our greatest stars, Katharine Cornell, Helen Hayes, Jane
Cowl, Tallulah Bankhead, Katharine Hepburn, the three Barry-
mores, Alfred Lunt, Walter Huston, Walter Hampden, Fredric
March, and many others are exponents of the distinctive Ameri-
can style of acting. We need more of them.

Each of my twenty-five years on the stage has enlarged my
vision and clarified my thinking, in so far as the principles of
dramatic training are concerned. New ideas crop up every day.
We must never grow too rigid to evaluate them. But one thing
never changes and I've known it from the day when I first
heard the call, "Face the footlights !" It is the first requirement of
the man or woman who considers a stage career.

If you want to be an actor, you must put your career
above everything else. There can be no compromise.

So I say, if you want to be an actor, be a good one, or stay out
of the profession. To be a good one, you must love your work.
And if you love it, you will study it.

ZEKE COLVAN.

Contents

PAGE

PREFACE vii

CHAPTER

1. ACTING LOOKS So EASY 3

What the producer wants. The fundamental equipment of an
actor. Acting can be learned. What is a stage mechanic?

2. STAGE LOCATIONS 16

The importance of knowing where you are going and why.
What is a stage cross? What is meant by "dressing a stage"?
"taking stage"?

3. THE BUSINESS OF ACTING 31

The three phases of learning to act: underdone; overdone; well
done. What is good acting? Vitality in playing.

4. BODY GRACE 57

The secret of correct posture and carriage. The use of posture
in suggesting specific characterizations. The difference between
an instinctive stage move and a mechanical move. How to make
a stage fall. A stage faint.

5. THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS 80

What the hand expresses. The use of props. How to express
mood, character, background, race by the use of gesture.

XIV CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

6. THE EYES 106

The art of listening with the eyes. The importance of discovery ;
surprise; suspended action. The use of the eye in comedy.

7- BREATH CONTROL 126

Why breath control is necessary. Correct breathing habits. The
importance of breath control in playing sustained scenes;
dramatic scenes; in farce. Phrasing. Cue attack.

8. DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE 150

Responsiveness of voice to mood. The difference between a
""loud" voice and voice with an "edge." Revelation of charac-
ter, personality, and background through voice. The danger of
overstraining the voice.

9. DICTION 171

What is a word? The difference between voiced and breathed
consonants. The importance of the jaw, mouth, lips, and
tongue in correct speech.

10. RELEASING THE EMOTIONS 185

Emotions expressed through behavior. Mechanics of emotion.
Creating sense impressions. What is emotional energy? How to
develop the senses.

11. LAUGHTER AND TEARS 216

Is the audience laughing at you or with you? Timing a laugh.
How to get laughs. The difference between farce and slapstick.
Physical mechanics and variations of laughter. Mechanics of
crying.

12. How TO STUDY A PART 242

The amateur way. The professional way. Getting a perspective

on a part. Know your character. Danger of type casting. Differ-
ence between "being natural" and "at ease."

13. THE EVOLUTION OF MAKE-UP 257

Function of make-up. Telling a story in grease paint. Putting
character in make-up. Changing facial contours. High and low
lighting. The professional make-up kit.

COMTEK TS XV
CHAPTER PAGE

14. STEPPING INTO CHARACTER 285

What the actor contributes. What is a character trait? Building

a character through mannerisms, props, speech, posture,
make-up. Characteri2.tion from within. Characterisation versus
mimicry. Your mind is your notebook.

15. THE SUMMING UP 305

The stage will never die. The future in television. Hints to
heed. The actor's ten commandments.

GLOSSARY 313

INDEX 315

FACE THE FOOTLIGHTS!

-Looks e)<9 Cosy

BACKSTAGE it is dark and damp and smells of musty old scenery,
but you wouldn't change places with the privileged ones
who sun themselves at Palm Beach. In the center of the stage, one
dim light shines forth to guide you. Through a haz of dust, you
see a plain kitchen table and beside it, teetering to and fro on a
rickety chair, Mr. Donald, the famous director. The boards,
those magic planks on which Cornell, Hayes, and Barrymore have
trod, creak beneath your feet.

Steady, now, you tell yourself. There's nothing to fear. Didn't
you play Nora in the little theater production of "A Doll's
House"? And haven't you a wonderful letter of introduction to
Mr. Donald from Frank Trent, back home, who went to school
with him?

Timidly you hand Mr. Donald the letter, limp and smudged
from handling. "Are you an actress?" he asks. You hope so, but
you're not sure.

"Take off your hat, miss," Mr. Donald grunts. "Come down
left center."

Left center. That's a new one on you. Your legs buckle beneath
you. You look around for help; you try to swallow the lump in
your throat. Finally, as the moments tick on and you know you
must do something, you step gingerly across the stage. Mr.
Donald is speaking again.

4 ' ACTING LOOKS SO EASY

"That's enough. Here, read this over for me."

He hands you two pages ("sides," he calls them). You take a
deep breath and begin.

"Give it a little more shading, miss," Mr. Donald interrupts.
"Move on that speech and cross upper right. Make an oblique
cross on the next line. Break it there!"

Oh, dear, we didn't learn that at school, you have to admit as
the volley of directions hits you and leaves you numb.

"Try it again," says the director patiently. "You are reading a
letter. You enter, carrying a bunch of flowers. Before you put the
flowers on the table, you smell them. Then you see the letter. You
pick it up with interest and read it. No, miss, you are smelling the
letter and reading the flowers. . . . Try again. Ask yourself,
what would I do in real life? The man is threatening you . . .
but you do not react. I see no response in your eyes. All right,
now try again, and don't forget that is a telephone you are holding.
You use both hands fnow he is getting sarcastic]}. . . . And why
did you use that foot to cross on?"

The stage begins to blur. . . . Your head is pounding. This is
worse than anything you've dreamed of. ...

Then the blow falls.

"I'm doing another play in a couple of months," says Mr.
Donald. "Come back and see me then. Perhaps . . . when you've
had experience ..."

Somehow you manage to mumble your thanks and escape.
Outside the theater, you sit down and take stock of yourself.
You are one of the unequipped, gallant horde of young people who
set out each season to conquer the theatrical world. And you
have suffered your first major setback.

What next?

Go home and admit defeat? Never! You'd rather die. You'll
stick it out no matter what it costs. You have a hundred dollars,
maybe, and a raccoon coat that you can pawn. You'll move from
the comfortable hotel with the good address and get a cheap room
with a gas plate, and you'll hole in.

You'll show the director that you can get stage experience.

ACTING LOOKS SO EASY 5

Walter Huston, as Peter Stuyvesant, who called his peg leg his trust-
iest weapon, defends himself against the Indians in "Knickerbocker
Holiday*" by Maxwell Anderson. (By Courtesy o/ThePZayrights 1 Co.)

6 ACTING LOOKS SO EASY

It is natural enough to laugh at the awkwardness of the beginner
in any art. And, properly administered, ridicule is sometimes the
best means of spurring on the hardy performer who has things to
learn and the proper perspective on the learning process.

But all new actors haven't this perspective, and frequently the
first burst of laughter so wounds his tender ego that the beginner
retires in confusion. The seasoned performer is seldom tolerant
of the amateur, and this bigotry, unfortunately, is true of many of
our best directors. Constructive criticism would help, but the
director hasn't the patience to go through tiresome practice
routine until the novice has learned his craft. It's simpler to smile
kindly and tell the actor to come back later on when he has had
experience.

Many years ago, when I began my own work as director, I
gauged my kind of training by the response of the new actor to the
instruction. Anything that seemed too complicated was discarded
immediately and a newer and simpler form provided. In so doing,
it became necessary for me to study each actor and his individual
requirements. I charted an analysis of the boy or girl and planned a
systematic attack on his acting problems.

Each player had a different problem calling for different treat'
ment. One girl had naturally graceful hands and a poor speaking
voice. Another had a clear, rich voice and awkward body move-
ments. A third hadn't the slightest conception of how to study a
part. A fourth had no sense of stage locations.

To tell a young actor to synchronise his voice, facial expres"
sions, body control, and sense of direction all at once would
mean complete confusion. Instead I took up the weaknesses one at
a time and showed the player how to overcome them.

Out of this program of analysis, treatment, and cure, I have
evolved a questionnaire for the beginning actor to consider before
he attempts any sort of dramatic training. It seems to me that he
can avoid loss of time and energy and countless disappointments if
he will check to the best of his ability the qualifications for the
job he has before him. Even though his score be low, he needn't

ACTING LOOKS SO EASY

give up, provided he is willing to study to overcome the handicaps
that seem so formidable at the start. I have said, remember, that
acting can be learned. And certain fundamental personality
problems can be solved if the actor will give himself a chance.

QUESTIONNAIRE

1. Have You an Imagination?

Do people, places, and events really register with you? Have
you sufficient mental and emotional resiliency to adjust immedi-
ately to the new impression, or do you cling tenaciously to
preconceived ideas? Do you do your own thinking, or do you abide
by the opinions, written and verbal, of others?

If you fall short of perfection here, there's no cause for alarm.
You can make your imagination grow. Leisurely observation,
reading, studying, thinking will eventually take your mind below
the surface until you shall have achieved imaginative significance.
All the great stage performers have been possessed of highly
developed imagination.

2. How Well Do You Know People?

In the theater, not only are you playing to an audience of
people but you are working with people on the stage. The ability
to get on with others, through an understanding of them and of
yourself, is your chief personality asset.

The characters you play are people created from life by the
playwright. Their actions, automatic though they may seem, are
based on sound psychological behavior. Why people do as they
do must be clear to you before you can interpret them intelligently.

3. Are Tou Able to Ta\e Criticism?

The thin-skinned actor has a hard time of it from the start.
The ability to take and use criticism must be made a part of your
acting armor. Until you are big enough to take a severe reprimand

8 ACTING LOOKS SO EASY

before a whole company of players, you aren't big enough to be an
actor.

4. How Easily Do You Succumb to Disappointment?

The actor's life is at best a precarious one. He has to smile
when his once fat part is cut to a few lines. He must have the
courage to start a round of job hunting as soon as his show closes.
He must appear prosperous even when he doesn't know where the
next month's rent is coming from. His whole future may depend
on the impression he makes on the manager who is interviewing
him- If he slumps into a chair, voice bitter, mouth drooping, he
will not have a chance to get the part unless the manager is
casting a morbid Russian drama.

5. How Is Tour Health?

In theatrical work, your office hours are from 8:30 P.M. to
11 :30 P.M., and to the average person that sounds like an easy life.
But think it over! During the run of a play you may rest at home
all day, but the moment you set foot in the theater you put your-
self through a period, physically, emotionally, and mentally, that
is equal to twenty hours' work in any business. In those few short
hours every faculty must be sharpened until it functions fault"
lessly. From the time you make your first entrance until the curtain
rings down, you are sold to the audience; you must win them and
hold them. They have paid their money and are entitled to your
best.

Rehearsal periods mean an even greater strain. Long hours, hit-
or-miss meals, snatched, irregular sleep, short spurts of difficult
acting, long periods of sitting around awaiting your cues. The
nervous tension tightens until on opening night you are a nervous
wreck. It takes a strong constitution to buck it!

The road (yes, there is still one, thanks to Katharine Cornell,
Helen Hayes, and the Lunts) offers another health hazard. Sleeper
jumps, lunch-counter meals, unheated dressing rooms, drafty
theaters challenge the most robust system.

ACTING LOOKS SO EASY 9

6. Have You a Graceful Carriage?

Do you walk, sit, and rise with ease? If these qualities are lack-
ing, you will have to start an intensive course of posture work,
calisthenics, dancing, or fencing. Not a pound overweight;
perfectly poised; body control in every muscle those are the
requirements.

7. Have You a Clear, Well-placed Voice and Good Diction?

If you haven't, you must learn. And learning takes time,
thought, and money.

8. Have You the "Necessary Financial Backing?

It may be months, or a year, before you get so much as a walk-on
part. It is possible to hold other positions while you are making
the rounds, but if you are trying to study in the daytime that is an
awkward plan. One of the new stars who has been trying for
years to get a leading part has made her living by doing fashion
newsreel announcing. Many of our young hopefuls are now on the
radio telling mother how to mix a cake and junior's formula.

The summer barn theaters offer the student a chance to get
experience and very good training in discipline and to learn his
business, but these companies pay minimum salaries, and for the
nonsubsidised acting student the going is hard.

Acting loo\s 50 easy, you say. With your personal analysis
before you, how do you feel about your career now? Are you
ready to go on? Do you feel that you have real stage timbre? If the
analysis has given you proper respect for the acting profession
a respect compounded of fear and admiration it has done its
work. If it has convinced you that acting can be learned but that
the learning process never stops, so much the better. For the
serious student of the stage is always learning his art, or something
that is related to it. Self-satisfaction, a deadly thing to an actor,
is never his. He knows he can't afford to be smug.

10 ACTING LOOKS SO EASY

A young dancing star was surprised and a little hurt when her
director told her to take up painting. Too silly! Why should a
dancer learn to paint? The director gave her several reasons, off-
hand. A knowledge of composition will give her a consciousness
of her part in the stage picture (for the stage is a picture framed by
the proscenium). It will enable her to present a pleasing pose. Art
will help her color and line sense. Many an actress (Lynn Fon-
tanne, for one, Katharine Hepburn, for another) has enhanced her
performance by being beautifully costumed. Some knowledge of
painting will also assist her in make-up.

A musical training is helpful in any career. Aside from the
possibility of being called upon to sing or play some instrument in
a play, the development of an actor's musical ear is important. A
tone-sensitive ear will tell you whether you speak in a dull
monotone or in a rich, rhythmical cadence. To light and shade a
speech is something an actor must learn, and how can he learn this
if he is tone-deaf?

All the arts music, painting, sculpture, writing are inter-
related. Whether you bring a knowledge of any or all of them with
you or whether you cultivate them later on, they will aid in your
development as an actor.

Stage Mechanics

Any art that deals with human emotions must be perfect in
craftsmanship. That is why the performance of an experienced
actor who understands and can use every intricate mechanical
trick of his profession looks so simple and natural. Actually,
there's nothing natural about the performance at all; it is skillfully
concealed artifice. The natural effect is produced by years of
constant work in which the actor has learned how to cover the
bare bones of his technique (stage mechanics) with the richness
and individuality of his own personality.

When I say that a knowledge of stage mechanics covers seventy
per cent of the art of acting, I am not exaggerating. Before the young
player can make a professional move on any stage, he must master

ACTING LOOKS SO EASY 11

these mechanical tricks. With them, he will have a foundation on
which to build his career, a practical system that will remain with
him during his whole life on the stage. Stage mechanics will give
him confidence and assurance that can be acquired in no other
way.

In using the word "mechanics," I am not describing a mechanical
form of acting. Far from it! "Stage mechanics" is a traditional term
of the theater, used to describe the conduct and deportment of the
actor while he is engaged in the business of acting. The mechanics
include walking, use of the hands and eyes, gestures, and move'
ments. Each mechanic is rehearsed so many times that it can be
repeated, night after night, without a change. A performance can
be ruined by the failure of an actor to repeat his mechanic just as it
has been taught to him.

When a player makes an entrance or exit or a cross from one
point on the stage to another, the move is a mechanic. If a fight is
staged, each blow struck is weighed carefully so that the effect is
the same at each performance. This, too, is a mechanic.

The handling of the properties is part of the stage mechanics
program. If an actress sits at a table pouring ta for her guests, the
teapot, the cups and saucers become hand props because she
handles them. The handling of these props is stage business or
"mechanics."

Even the breath becomes part of the mechanical setup and must
be kept under complete control. A sigh or a pause used at the
right moment can have a startling effect on the audience. The
wrong movement can be equally startling, in a less happy sense.

Control of the breath is brought about by flexible development
of the muscles of the abdomen and the diaphragm. Without this
mechanic, an actor's playing can have no vitality, pace, or timing.

The modulation of the voice is also a mechanical process. Every
word, every tone we utter must have some motive power behind
it. This power is furnished by the diaphragm's bringing pressure
from below. Compressing the wind against the vocal cords pro-
duces the different tones or sounds. This mechanic is the spring'
board for physi lal vitality in all stage playing.

12 ACTING LOOKS SO EASY

Diction, another mechanic, concerns voice, lungs, and dia-
phragm. It also has to do with the muscles of the lips, tongue,
throat, and soft palate. Unless all these factors are working in
harmony, clear and distinct diction is not possible. And good
diction is one of the actor's most important mechanical aids.

No outward form of expression can compare with the combined
message of the actor's voice and his eyes. They register delicate
and subtle changes of expression. The eyes can carry on a steady
conflict, or they can smile; they can show pity, love, hatred. The
voice, working in harmony with his eyes, is the lightning flash
that reveals to the audience the storm of internal emotions.
Television is here, but no man-made instrument will ever be
perfected that can compare with this instrument of nature, the
eyes, for sending or receiving the sense impression of sight.

The language of the hands is universal in its meaning. The
simplest and crudest emotions are expressed almost invariably in
the same manner. But the variations of a gesture are determined
by the individual personality of the performer. Seldom do any two
actors use exactly the same gesture to depict any given emotion.
For instance, there are many moves or gestures that express fear.
Each actor has his own conception of the expression of fear, and
the gesture he usually chooses is the one to use. .

To be able to move and walk gracefully is a stage mechanic
that every young actor must acquire. All individual movement on
the stage is under the close scrutiny of the audience. We practice
to gain rhythm and poise.

All these mechanics represent the physical side of acting. In
addition, there are mental and emotional mechanics that concern
our inner state. But before we can get below the surface to inter-
pret the emotions that are on the inside, we must have the physical
mechanics under complete control.

Were I to discuss all these factors at once, the result would be
too complicated to understand. Therefore, in the first chapters of
this book, I shall dissect and analy2 each physical stage mechanic
so that each one voice or movements or eyes or diction or hands

ACTING LOOKS SO EASY ' 13

can be studied separately and practiced until it becomes the
actor's own.

When, by faithful practice, the physical mechanics are
handled perfectly by the player, he will be happy to find
that the mental mechanics, such as imagination, observa-
tion, and the thought process, and the emotional mechan-
ics, cause, impression, and effect, are working in perfect
harmony with the physical mechanics.

When the actor 's mental and emotional sides take charge of his
performance, he will not have to ponder on what gesture to use or
ask himself what reaction will fit this or that situation. The phys-
ical action will be under complete control of the actor's mental and
emotional consciousness. Every bit of behavior will fly into place,
literally suiting the action to the word,

We all know that emotion is simply a physiological state. It is
something inside our mental and physical being, and outward
expression must come through the voice, the eyes, the hands, and
the body. An emotion can use one or all of these outlets simultane-
ously. They are the instruments that give outward expression of
our inner consciousness. They are the reflection of what is happen-
ing inside our minds.

In every good actor these instruments are fully developed.
They are the tools of his trade.

In Shakespeare's speech to the players in "Hamlet," any actor
will find a complete lesson in stage mechanics.

Speak the speech* I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly qn
the tongue {clear diction}; but if you mouth it, as many of your players
do {articulation}, I had as lief the town crier spoke my lines. Nor do not
saw the air too much with your hand, thus {gestures too broad or gro-
tesque}; but use all gently {with artistry}: For in the very torrent, tern'
pest, and as I may say the whirlwind of passion {battle of the
emotions}, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give
smoothness {delicate shading}. O! it offends me to the soul to hear a
robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags

12 ACTING LOOKS SO EASY

Diction, another mechanic, concerns voice, lungs, and dia-
phragm. It also has to do with the muscles of the lips, tongue,
throat, and soft palate. Unless all these factors are working in
harmony, clear and distinct diction is not possible. And good
diction is one of the actor's most important mechanical aids.

No outward form of expression can compare with the combined
message of the actor's voice and his eyes. They register delicate
and subtle changes of expression. The eyes can carry on a steady
conflict, or they can smile; they can show pity, love, hatred. The
voice, working in harmony with his eyes, is the lightning flash
that reveals to the audience the storm of internal emotions.
Television is here, but no man-made instrument will ever be
perfected that can compare with this instrument of nature, the
eyes, for sending or receiving the sense impression of sight.

The language of the hands is universal in its meaning. The
simplest and crudest emotions are expressed almost invariably in
the same manner. But the variations of a gesture are determined
by the individual personality of the performer. Seldom do any two
actors use exactly the same gesture to depict any given emotion.
For instance, there are many moves or gestures that express fear.
Each actor has his own conception of the expression of fear, and
the gesture he usually chooses is the one to use. e

To be able to move and walk gracefully is a stage mechanic
that every young actor must acquire. All individual movement on
the stage is under the close scrutiny of the audience. We practice
to gain rhythm and poise.

All these mechanics represent the physical side of acting. In
addition, there are mental and emotional mechanics that concern
our inner state. But before we can get below the surface to inter-
pret the emotions that are on the inside, we must have the physical
mechanics under complete control.

Were I to discuss all these factors at once, the result would be
too complicated to understand. Therefore, in the first chapters of
this book, I shall dissect and analyze each physical stage mechanic
so that each one voice or movements or eyes or diction or hands

ACTING LOOKS SO EASY 13

can be studied separately and practiced until it becomes the
actor's own.

When, by faithful practice, the physical mechanics are
handled perfectly by the player, he will be happy to find
that the mental mechanics, such as imagination, observa-
tion, and the thought process, and the emotional mechan-
ics, cause, impression, and effect, are working in perfect
harmony with the physical mechanics.

When the actor's mental and emotional sides take charge of his
performance, he will not have to ponder on what gesture to use or
ask himself what reaction will fit this or that situation. The phys-
ical action will be under complete control of the actor's mental and
emotional consciousness. Every bit of behavior will fly into place,
literally suiting the action to the word.

We all know that emotion is simply a physiological state. It is
something inside our mental and physical being, and outward
expression must come through the voice, the eyes, the hands, and
the body. An emotion can use one or all of these outlets simultane'
ously. They are the instruments that give outward expression of
our inner consciousness. They are the reflection of what is happen-
ing inside our minds.

^In every good actor these instruments are fully developed.
They are the tools of his trade.

In Shakespeare's speech to the players in "Hamlet," any actor
will find a complete lesson in stage mechanics.

Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on
the tongue {clear diction}; but if you mouth it, as many of your players
do f articulation}, I had as lief the town crier spoke my lines. Nor do not
saw the air too much with your hand, thus {gestures too broad or gro-
tesque}; but use all gently {with artistry}: For in the very torrent, tern"
pest, and as I may say the whirlwind of passion {battle of the
emotions}, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give
smoothness {delicate shading}. O! it offends me to the soul to hear a
robustious periwig'pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags

14 ' ACTING LOOKS SO EASY

fa physical force}, to split the ears of the groundlings, who, for the most
part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise :

... Be not too tame neither {don't underplay]}, but let your own
discretion be your tutor {let your sensibilities guide you}: suit the action
to the word, the word to the action {synchronize the words with your
body movement}; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not
the modesty of nature {restraint} ... to show virtue her own feature,
scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form
and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy off {timing}, though
it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve;
{critics} the censure of the which one must, in your allowance, o'erweigh
a whole theatre of others O I there be players that I have seen play, and
heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that,
neither having the accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan,
nor man, have so strutted and bellowed {ham; overdone} that I have
thought some of nature's journeymen had made men and not made them
well, they imitated humanity so abominably {character}.

. . . And let them that play your clowns speak no more than is set
down for them {no ad libbing}; for there be of them that will themselves
laugh {don't laugh at your own jokes}, to set on some quantity of barren
spectators to laugh too, though in the meantime some necessary question
of the play be then to be considered; that's villainous, and shows a most
pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. Go, make you ready {be ready
for your entrance cue!}.

In addition to writing beautiful English prose, the famous
bard has taken the pains to cover the whole business of acting:
voice, diction, enunciation, gesture, acting under- and overdone
(one is as bad as the other), characterization, and ad libbing, which,
for present purposes, we shall call "speaking out of turn."

In one short lesson, Shakespeare has incorporated the heart and
soul of acting. For over three hundred years it has been the first
page in every actor's primer.

Which part of this advice applies to you 7 You may need the entire
course of training, in which case you have a stiff program ahead of

ACTING LOOKS SO EASY 15

you. You may need voice control or the study of body movement
or work on characteri2ation or stage locations or make-up.

But whatever your need, whether it is great or small, you'll
find it listed under the name of "stage mechanics." And it is these
mechanics that I shall discuss in detail, with full exercises for
cause and cure, in the chapters that follow.

Otage ^Locations

JN NEW HAVEN, during a road tour of a Winter Garden show, I
_[_ sent out a call for extras to impersonate sheiks for one of the
big chorus numbers. The local college answered in a body, and
from the group I selected a number of fine, well-built lads.

Wrapped in bumooses, the boys knelt, backs to the audience,
facing the sinking sun. "Oh, Allah be praised!" they were taught
to chant. "Oh, Allah be praised!"

At the close of the number, a transparent scrim curtain was
dropped on the sheiks, masking them from the audience and
setting the scene for a desert sandstorm effect that was to
follow.

On the opening night, all went well until the transparent cur-
tain started to fall. Then the stage manager saw that the boys
were kneeling too far downstage to be masked by the curtain.
In a second the scrim would go down, and the amateur sheiks,
kneeling and chanting, would remain ludicrously exposed to the
audience while the desert storm blew on its way.

"Upstage! Upstage!" yelled the excited manager, urging the
extras gradually to work up a little on their knees. But the order
missed fire. The college boys heard the call and applied it, literally,
to their lines.

STAGE LOCATIONS * 17

"Oh, Allah, upstage!" they chanted. "Oh, Allah, upstage!"

The stage, with its shifting scenery and crew of hands, actors,
and directors, all of whom speak a language of their own, is a
strange world to the new actor. And yet it is a world he enters
without map or guidebook a thing he'd never think of doing on
going to a foreign country. At least he'd prepare himself in
advance with a practical knowledge of the topography of the land
and the language of the natives before he ventured on his
journey.

The stage is divided into sections, and each has its own special
designation. This is true of any stage, whether it be erected in one
of the modern Times Square theaters, in a small-town opera house
or auditorium, or even, as in the old barnstorming days, in a tent
or barn. When you read in a part (in parenthesis) X.U.L. or D.C.
or U.R.C., you are getting stage directions, the little road signs
that you must recognize and be able to follow without
hesitation.

For instance, you can't afford to wait and think over this par-'
ticular stage mechanic, as did one little girl who was trying out for
me. I asked her to please get off "the apron" (the strip of stage
just behind the footlights). She stuttered and blushed and finally
confessed in an agony of confusion, "But I haven t any apron.
Should I have one?"

It has been said that poise is a matter of knowing where you are
going, and this principle applies to the stage just as surely as to
the drawing room. If the actor is thoroughly familiar with each
stage location, it stands to reason that his movements will suggest
poise and self-assurance. Half the battle against amateur appear-
ance will be won when he has learned to move with directness of
purpose.

Before we go into the intricacies of stage crosses (movements
from one part of the stage to another), well begin by familiarizing
ourselves with certain stage locations, or positions, as they are
called.

18 ' STAGE LOCATIONS

Stage Right (designated in the script as K) is always located on
the actor's right as he faces the footlights.

Stage Left (designated in the script as L) is always opposite, or
on the actor's left as he faces the footlights.

The part of the stage nearest the audience, or footlights, is
called "downstage." The part farthest away from the foot-
lights is called "upstage/ 1 This term originated in the old-
fashioned theater, where the floor sloped sharply toward the
footlights.

A stage cross can be made from left to right or vice versa. It
can be upstage or downstage, in oblique line or straight. Usually
a stage cross begins from a position in which the player is engaged
in conversation with another character or group of characters. He
may be facing the character or group, with his side to the audience,
or turned three-quarters so that he is partly facing the audience
and group at the same time. This will necessitate a slight turn as
he begins the movement across the stage.

Example: Suppose you are on the right of a group standing
Center Stage. You want to make a cross to Stage Right. To do so,
it is necessary to make a slight turn to your right as the movement
begins, since before you start you are facing the left wall.

If your cross is to Stage Left, the slight turn will not be neces-
sary, since you are facing in the direction toward which you are
going.

When rehearsing at home or in any place other than a regular
stage, always locate the audience or footlights in your imagination,
and face the footlights. Immediately you will know which is Stage
Right and which is Stage Left.

If the room is oblong, use the length to locate the audience. You
will need the width of the room for Stage Crosses.

EXERCISES

The following exercises, which are a sort of springboard for
every stage movement, should'be practiced daily.

STAGE LOCATIONS ' 19

1 . Stand with the feet about a foot apart, the hands on the hips.
Shift the hips to the right until you feel the weight of the body on
the right foot. Stop. Shift back to the first position. Use the hips
only.

2. Shift the hips to the left until you feel the weight of the
body on the left foot. Stop. Shift back to the first position. Use the
hips only.

3. From the first position shift the hips to the right, then to the
left, in one continuous movement. Make the hips describe a
circle.

4. From the first position shift the hips to the left, then to the
right in one continuous movement. Make the hips describe a
circle.

If followed faithfully, these movements will make your hips
flexible. At the start the method of shifting your body will seem
crude and awkward. Later, when you become familiar with its
use, the movement will be so smooth and natural that no one will
be aware of its use.

5. Shift the weight onto the left leg. Turn slightly to right and
step out on the right foot. Walk seven steps to the right.

6. Shift the weight onto the right leg. Turn slightly to the left
and step out on the left foot. Walk seven steps.

7- Combine the two movements in order to walk right and
left. Seven counts each way. As you make the shift on the
seventh count, there is a slight hesitation. Walk easily and
gracefully.

8. Walk to a chair. Sit down. Don't slump. Get up. Step
on the left foot and walk to the left. If you are moving
to the left as you get up, use the left foot. If to the right, the
right foot.

In making a move or a cross on the stage, always step out on the
foot that is nearer your destination.

20 ' STAGE LOCATIONS

1. Right cross from right of group.

2. Left cross to right of group.

STAGE LOCATIONS 21

*st'i :

,1

IS

t'J

-<s>-

3. Left cross from right of group.

4. Right cross to left of group.

22 STAGE LOCATIONS

1. Right Cross from Right of Group Center to Right

Face the footlights, with the feet about a foot apart. Sway
slightly to the left and with the hip movement shift the weight
onto the left foot. Turn slightly to the right and step out on the
right foot. Face the right wall and walk to the right. Take seven
steps and stop, facing the footlights.

2. Left Cross to Right of Group Center

Face the footlights, with the feet about a foot apart. Sway
slightly to the right and with hip movement shift the weight onto
the right foot. Turn slightly to the left and step out on the left
foot. Face the left wall and walk to the left. Take seven steps and
stop, facing the footlights. You are back to the original position.

3. Left Cross from Right of Group Center

Face the footlights, with the feet about a foot apart. Sway
slightly to the right and with hip movement shift the weight onto
the right foot. Step onto the left foot and walk to the left. Take
seven steps. Stop, facing the footlights. You are now over left of
stage.

4. Right Cross from Over Left to Left of Group Center

Face the footlights, with the feet about a foot apart. Sway
slightly to the left and with hip movement shift the weight onto
the left foot. Step onto the right foot and walk to the right. Take
seven steps. Stop at the left of the group in center.

5. Right Cross

Face the footlights, with the feet about a foot apart. Sway
slightly to the left and with hip movement shift the weight onto
the left foot. Step out with the right foot and walk seven steps to
stage right. Stop, facing the footlights.

6. Left Cross to Right of Group

Face the footlights, with the feet about a foot apart. Sway
slightly to the right and with hip movement shift the weight onto

STAGE LOCATIONS 23

the right foot. Turn slightly to the left. Step on the left foot and
walk seven steps to the right of the group center. Stop, facing the
footlights.

7. Upstage Cross

Face the footlights at the right of the group, with the feet
about a foot apart. Sway slightly to the left. Shift the weight onto
the left foot. Turn slightly upstage. Step on the right foot and
walk seven steps upstage right. Stop with your back to the
audience.

These moves I have divided into seven steps in order that the
feet, in each instance, may fall in the correct position for the next
move. This word of caution applies to the practice period merely.
Eventually you will be able to make the same moves without
counting.

If you are making a right cross, naturally you step out on the
right foot. The purpose of the shift you have been practicing is to
get you on that foot in an easy and graceful manner. The same rule
applies to the left foot. To start a right cross on your left foot and a
left cross on your right would be awkward.

Always start with the foot that is nearer your destination.
At first you will practice the shift with a wide movement, thereby
making the movement seem exaggerated. Later, as you become
proficient in the use of the shift, you will reduce the movement
until it is so smooth that it cannot be noticed.

Now you have an understanding of what is meant by Stage
Left and Stage Right, by Upstage and Downstage. You know the
right of stage is always on the actor's right as he faces the foot-
lights; that the left of stage is always on his left. These positions
never change.

To give you a clearer understanding of stage locations, I have
divided with lines the chart of the stage. I have added Center.
Right of Center and Left of Center. There are Upstage, extreme
Right and Left, as well as Downstage. With five minutes' study,

24 ' STAGE LOCATIONS

STAGE LOCATIONS 25

any young actor should be able to walk to or from any of these
positions.

Choose a room for rehearsals. Take the chart and set the stage:
You will find five Upstage positions and five Downstage positions.

Right

Right center
Center
Left center
Left

Mark these positions with chairs or any markers that are handy,
but be sure to mar\ the positions before you begin. (The positions
may be marked with pieces of paper.)

If you have given serious thought and practice to the methods of
shifting your weight in the last exercises, you will have no trouble
in walking these positions. Certainly, if you have stuck to the
task, you know the correct foot to start on!

1. Cross Upstage to Right Center (Oblique Cross Upstage)

Face the footlights in center of stage. Sway left. Turn up
right. Step on the right foot. Walk in an oblique line to Right
Center. Stop with your back three-quarters to the footlights.

2. Cross Downstage to Right (Oblique Cross)

Sway right. Step on the left foot. Walk in an oblique line to the
right. Stop, facing three-quarters to the footlights.

3. Cross Upstage to Right (Straight Cross Upstage)

Sway left. Turn up right. Step on the right foot. Walk upstage
in a straight line to the right. Stop with your back to the footlights.

4. Cross Downstage to Right Center (Oblique Cross)

Sway left. Turn downstage right. Step on the right foot.
Walk downstage in an oblique line to right center. Stop, facing
three-quarters to the left.

26 STAGE LOCATIONS

5. Cross Upstage to Center (Oblique Cross)

Sway right. Turn upstage left. Step on the left foot. Walk
upstage in an oblique line to upstage center. Stop, facing upstage.

6. Cross Downstage to Left Center (Oblique Cross)

Sway left. Turn downstage right. Step on the right foot.
Walk downstage in an oblique line to left center. Stop, facing
three-quarters left.

7. Cross Upstage to Left (Oblique Cross)

Sway right. Turn upstage left. Step on the left foot. Walk
upstage in an oblique line to the left. Stop with your back three-
quarters to footlights.

8. Cross Downstage to Left (Straight Cross)

Sway left. Turn downstage right. Step on the right foot. Walk
downstage in a straight line to the left. Stop, facing the footlights.

9. Cross Upstage to Left Center (Oblique Cross)

Sway left. Turn upstage right. Step on the right foot. Walk
upstage in an oblique line to left center. Stop with your back
three-quarters to footlights.

10. Cross Downstage to Center (Oblique Cross)

Sway to the right. Turn downstage to the left. Step on the
left foot. Walk downstage in an oblique line to center, facing the
footlights.

In these movements, you have covered every position on the
stage. If you have followed directions, you should be back on the
spot from which you started.

Now continue the practice of making stage crosses. Make up
your mind to master every move, so that when you arrive at your
first rehearsal you will know just where you are going. You may be
sure that the director will expect you to know!

STAGE LOCATIONS ' Tj

When you feel that you have the crosses well set in your
memory, get a published play in which all the stage business is
marked. Select one of the parts and study it. Make all the moves
indicated. Better still, if you have a friend who is also interested
in the theater, rehearse one of the scenes with him!

"Taking the Stage"

In the old days, when a director told an actor usually the
star to "take the stage," he was inviting the player to move to
the center of the stage, the most prominent of all locations, and,
standing there, to act! And if you remember those more robust
days, the acting was best described by the word "flamboyant."

Now, the term "take the stage" is modified by both the direc-
tor's wishes and the actor's discretion. The modern actor, on
hearing the direction "take the stage," is intelligent enough to
know locations; he would not go to the center, particularly if
other actors were grouped there. He would walk across the stage,
move away from the group a little, and make his speech.

The move gives him freedom of expression a chance to use his
own idea of how a scene should be played. It also gives the scene
action at a time when no action has been written in the script.

"Dressing the Stage"

When a stage seems bare, often the director calls, "Dress the
stage." Whereupon the actors and actresses distribute themselves
about the stage to relieve the bareness. Instead of a group of five
or six people huddled upstage, the players break themselves into
smaller groups downstage. This makes a better stage composition.
The call, "Dress the stage," occurs frequently in scenes involving
chorus work.

"Upstaging"

Usually when two people are standing downstage playing a
scene, they are feeing either three-quarters or directly to the
audience. In this manner, their lines can be heard, and the audience
can catch the facial reactions. If the first actor either unconsciously

28 . STAGE LOCATIONS

or deliberately shifts his position a little upstage, he forces the
second actor to turn his back to the audience, thereby causing
him to sacrifice both the distinctness of his lines and his facial
expressions.

This is called "upstaging," and, if done intentionally, is a mean
and unethical trick.

I had my first taste of "upstaging" as a green young stock actor
at the old La Salle Theater in Chicago. The old-timer opposite
whom I played decided to show me a few tricks I'd missed. The
first night he "upstaged" me I didn't know just what was wrong.
But I did know I was playing the entire scene with my back to the
audience. The next night I reported early and had a little talk
with the director. I told him I had a plan I wanted to try out.
Very much amused, he told me to go right ahead.

When we went into our scene during the performance, my
friend began working upstage just a shade. I moved, too. Again
and again I went with him. Each time I moved his face got redder.
In the wings some of the rest of the cast, as well as the director,
watched the battle. When the other actor and I were almost
flattened against the backdrop, I saw surrender in his eyes. He
never upstaged me again!

Entrances

Although the old style "grand entrance" or prima donna
entrance in which the entire company turned upstage, backs to
the audience, to hail the star as she swept down a flight of pseudo-
marble stairs has gone its way, a leading player is seldom dis-
covered on stage as the curtain rises. In modern plays, interest in a
leading character is built up by the author's lines. By the time he
or she makes a first entrance, the audience knows pretty well what
to expect, for, other characters have purposely been put on the
stage to lay the groundwork of the plot and the character action.

A vivid first impression usually remains with us, and a wise
actor knows this. Who could forget Lynn Fontanne's smooth,
poised entrance as the worldly Irene in "Idiot's Delight"? Or
Helen Hayes* timid, childlike entrance as the young princess who

STAGE LOCATIONS * 29

had been hastily summoned from her bed to be acclaimed queen of
England in "Victoria Regina"?

Exits

The old vaudeville saying, "Always leave them laughing,"
was based on sound psychology. Many an individual performance
has been remembered by a snappy exit line.

When a character makes an exit on a speech, he breaks up the
sentence or times it so that he can get the full benefit of the last
words. This usually means that part of the line is delivered down-
stage, while the next thought carries him to the door or exit. Then,
as though suddenly remembering something he hasn't said, the
actor delivers the climax of his line. This brings emphasis and
sharpness to the delivery.

The traditional name for a scene of this kind is "conventional
exit." By the less respectful, it is sometimes referred to as a "door-
knob exit," because often the actor is in the act of opening the
door as he leaves.

EXAMPLE
Scene from "The Three Musketeers," by William Anthony McGuire

In a street scene of "The Three Musketeers," those inseparable
adventurers, Athos, Porthos, and Aramis, discuss their respective
virtues.

ARAMIS

I flatter myself that in my humble way I do my duty as a Musketeer.

PORTHOS
What is a Musketeer's duty?

ARAMIS
To fight.

PORTHOS

To love.

30 STAGE LOCATIONS
ATHOS

To drink. And 111 do my duty now ! (He exits left into the inn)

Not only is that a good exit line, expressive of character, but it
also has two distinct laughs.

There are three ways in which Athos might deliver this exit.
Standing down center stage, he might say to Porthos and Aramis,
"To drink. And I'll do my duty now." 1 Then wheel about and exit.

Athos might start walking directly on the line. However, not
only would this dissipate the strength of the line, because it has
two separate thoughts, but the sound of the words would blur,
because, while walking, he would be forced to turn his back partly
to the audience.

Or Athos might stand center stage and say the first part of the
line, "To drink." Perhaps he would lick his lips, rub his stomach,
or make some other suggestive gesture. He could gaz;e longingly at
the inn, walk a few steps toward it. Now he would have put over
his first point and gained his laugh. Then, as though the very
mention of the word precluded any further thought of it, he
might add, "And I'll do my duty now!" and march directly to the
inn.

This last method is the best. The actor has separated the two
thoughts, suited the action to the word, and kept the movement
clean'cut.

"Do you tynow where you are going?"

How often I've had to stop rehearsals long enough to put that
question to a bewildered young actor, who, stiff with fright, had
lost his stage position and, inevitably, his voice and body control.
My password, some of the players call it, but in reality it is a kind
of answer to an SOS sent out by the helpless beginner.

For in almost every instance, proper orientation, in so far as stage
locations are concerned, has enabled the player to go on with his
lines in acceptable fashion. So I say to you, before you start to
study any of the fine points of acting, learn stage locations. Be
sure you know where you are going!

usness o

An actor is as good as his ability to convince the audience
that he is the character he is playing.

At a performance of the Paul Vincent Carroll play, "Shadow
and Substance/" 1 I watched the response of a woman in the
audience to the acting of Sir Cedric Hardwicke. Every time Hard-
wicke, as the brilliant, caustic canon, made an entrance, she said
under her breath, "Isn't he terrible! Oh, how I hate him!"

The woman was not seeing Cedric Hardwicke, the man and
actor who played the part. She was seeing the cruel, bigoted
church official and was disliking him with all her heart which
was exactly Sir Cedric's purpose : to arouse her hatred of the canon.

For an audience to hiss a villain is a very good sign. It means
that the actor has so submerged his own personality in the char-
acter of the man he is playing that the audience forget he is
probably a thoroughly respectable citizen and think of him only
as an archcrook out to do no good. The watchers so identify
themselves with the sympathetic character whose happiness is
threatened by the villain that they prepare themselves, emotion-
ally, at least, to do battle in his behalf. They form a rousing
antagonism for the player of the unsympathetic part.

This is red acting the putting forth of power, bodily and mental,
to produce a strong effect. Good acting is the ability not only to fulfil

32 ' THE BUSINESS OF ACTING

the playwright's conception of the character but to go beyond this
conception, to fill in the gaps, and, by the actor's personal approach,
give human realism to the part.

Learning to Act

I have said there is no mystery in the business of acting. At
first glance, it seems a complicated and perplexing thing, but that is
true of first acquaintance with any art. We are inclined to make
comparisons with perfection. We forget that it has taken years of
study and practice to attain that perfection.

The expert watchmaker knows each piece of delicate machinery
that goes into the making of a watch. He understands just where
each tiny part belongs and the duty it performs. To him there is
no mystery or chance in the process by which the second hand
ticks off the seconds with precision. He is aware of the means
whereby the watch registers the twenty-four hours of the day.

This knowledge, the result of a long period of study and ap-
prenticeship, enables the watchmaker to assemble all the parts into
a flawless working system. In it there is no guesswork; it is based
on scientific principles.

And so it is with acting.

Science is knowledge reduced to a law and embodied
in system.

Art is the development of that system through the personal
equipment of the artist. Thus the actor, in learning his profession,
must gain a thorough knowledge of the elementary principles of
acting. And, having acquired this knowledge, he must learn the
technique of revealing the principles to his audience.

What Is Technique?

Technique is the mechanical presentation of the intricate
details of any art.

A writer studies rhetoric and composition. Then he conceives
an idea. In order to express this idea in clear, readable English, he
must conform to the discipline of writing technique; otherwise he
will have a meaningless jumble of words. Furthermore, in order to

THE BUSINESS OF ACTING ' 33

sway his readers emotionally, he must use deliberate tricks in the
selection of his phraseology.

In writing, this technique is called "style"; in music, it is called
"phrasing." A singer learns trills, cadenzas, and chromatics before
he can apply them to the rendering of an aria. A pianist studies
counterpoint and harmony before he forms chords and arpeggios;
he must always conform to the limits of the keyboard.

An artist has certain primary colors that he may blend, after
long practice, to suit his taste.

And so must the actor master technique before his emotional
strength can come through.

Applying Technique

Eva Le Gallienne has said, "It takes the first ten years of acting
to get your technique and the second ten years to get control of
your emotions so that you can call upon them and be sure they will
respond."

No good acting is done unless there is a clear picture in the
mind of the actor of just how he is going to take the steps neces-
sary to make his character portrayal lucid and artistic. Acting
technique is most practical and important as it explains the opera-
tion step by step.

When you are trying to impress an audience with some aspect
of character, not only must you put the idea in graphic form,
through body movements, voice, and gestures, but you yourself
must be sure why each movement or gesture or voice intonation is
made. It is just as important to do this in acting as it is in putting
together a watch. Technique has a firm, practical relation to the
acting problem.

The actor must be Just as precise in his
methods as the watchmaker is in his, making
it clear to himself as well as to his audience
that he knows how the character feels.

As soon as the actor has developed technical assurance, he will
find that his acting is so crisp and accurate that the audience gets

34 THE BUSINESS OF ACTING

his ideas more easily. Furthermore, he will have more abundant
ideas himself as to how the character should be played. But he will
not be able to use the ideas on the stage until he has become sure of
their use in practice.

To go back to the watchmaker. On the table before him are
placed the parts of the watch. These are studied, manipulated,
considered in reverie. Before the various parts are assembled,
the watchmaker is sure that he understands the process of putting
them together. Just such a plan is needed in the actor's thinking to
avoid a jumbled effect. He must form the habit of bringing to-
gether all his bits of technique body control, use of hands,
voice, eyes, make-up before he assembles the essential parts of
his acting.

Now, before you start your own study of acting technique, let
us see how much you know about the profession you have
selected.

Close your eyes.

Let every kind of idea float through your mind without any
attempt at coherence. Such material concerning acting may be
gathered from personal experience, memory of what others have
told you, or what you have read. Important or trivial, make the
idea your own.

Then write down the chapter headings of this book:

Body Grace
Language of the Hands
Use of the Eyes
Breath Control
Voice Training
Diction

Laughter and Tears
Emotional Spontaneity
How to Study a Part
Make-up
Characterisation
Stage Location

THE BUSINESS OF ACTING * 35

How much do you know about each one?
Concentrate, and then write down how much you know.

The Acting Process

There are four steps by which you can learn acting intelligently :

1. Plan

2. Technique

3. Motion

4. Style

The playwright conceives the plan of a play; the director
endeavors to carry out his ideas. He directs the player according
to the pattern of the playwright, plus his own artistic ideas.

Technique is the mechanical device by which to present the
plan; a means for facilitating the playwright's purpose.

Motion is the emotional force in the actor himself, the feeling,
conviction, passion, the high enthusiasm, the burning power. He is
forced to act according to his nature, his own idea, of the plan.
But he uses technique in so doing.

Style is the way the actor portrays character, the personal
contribution he makes. The style he uses in acting determines the
strength of his playing. If he is alert and intelligent, his style will
make an important contribution to his acting. If he is cold and
listless, his negative performance will destroy his chance to con'
nect emotionally with his audience.

Acting, then, includes

1. A clear plan

2. Adequate technique

3. Powerful motion

4. Good style

I once asked a well-known dramatic actress whether she really
felt the part she was playing.

"You tyow I don't," she replied. "If I felt the part completely,
Fd forget my lines."

36 THE BUSINESS OF ACTING

The actress was not speaking the truth, and she would be
the first to admit it if the question were analysed and restated.
Asking it in reverse, "Are you faking your performance?" would
bring a loud and indignant protest. Faking it? Trevor!

Here is what happened.

After three hundred performances of the same part, it was so
much her own that the actress didn't realise how deeply she was
feeling every line of it. She had forgotten her original conception of
the character, her careful interpretation of the woman's psy-
chology, her gestures, the nuances of her voice. She had reached
the point of perfection where technique was so blended with
performance that the two were one. No trace of her technique was
visible.

And that is what technique is for to be learned and then
forgotten.

The Evolution of Acting

I have said an actor is as good as his ability to convince his
audience that he is the character he is playing.

Then why do some actors with a moderate amount of ability
and average good looks and intelligence push ahead to the top and
others remain in the same circumstances in which they began their
careers?

The answer lies in the actor's own attitude toward the relation
between himself and his part.

This curious relationship is the determining factor in much of
stage failure or success. In the theater, there is much less luck or, as
the actors call it, "the breaks," than the layman may think. Fate
may smile graciously on a few and frown ominously on others, but
she is far more likely to smile when the actor understands where
his own sensitive ego leaves off and the business of acting begins.

Before he reaches the happy state of the seasoned performer,
the average actor goes through three phases:

1. Underdone acting (the awkward beginner)

2. Overdone acting (the perennial "ham")

3. Well-done acting (the true artist)

THE BUSINESS OF ACTING 3?

The new player is nervous, shy, self-conscious, and greatly
concerned with what everyone will think of him.

He has a doz^n things to remember: how to make his entrance;
where to go on the stage and how to get there (without bumping
into the furniture and other actors); how to use props; what
vocal tones, inflections, and volume to use; whether his make-up
is correct; how to synchronise voice and movements and, at the
same time, try to give a correct interpretation of his individual
part with some idea of its relationship to the play as a whole.

The director says, "Play natural!" and when the actor does so,
he is told, "Speak up! Don't whisper!"

When he stands still or strikes a pose of nonchalant ease, he is
advised by the director not to be a stick. And when he strides
around the stage, he is told to stand still and stop galloping
about.

No wonder he is confused! Who wouldn't be? There, beyond
the footlights, a thousand eyes are watching his fumbling efforts.
He is apologetic and humble. He'd better be good or else!

Each night the actor learns a new trick. The star of the play
has remarkably agile eyebrows. If the gift of moving them about is
good enough for the featured player, it is good enough for him. He
jots it down in his memory.

The leading man makes generous use of his hands. The gestures
fascinate the new player. He watches the old-timer go through his
movements and makes note of them. When he plays in Shake-
speare, he listens to the actor's voice effects. These, too, he makes
his own.

Eventually the beginner accumulates a bag of tricks. And
about this time he reaches the second phase of acting.

Overdone Acting. The Show-off

(A "Ham" Actor Is Born)

Why bother to collect a bag of tricks if you don't use them?
Without thought or discrimination, the actor in this phase gives
all he has to his audience.

38 THE BUSINESS OF ACTING

If he has the line of a messenger boy, 'Telegram for you, sir.
Shall I wait for an answer?" he stalks down center stage like
Hamlet, throws dramatic intonation in his voice, and screws his
eyebrows in knots.

The actor wants to be noticed in fact, he demands to be
noticed. If you don't like this trick, he knows others (and is
likely to give them at the next performance). He is a personality
actor, not an artist. His voice, his walk, and his eyebrows do not
match. He is not a messenger boy; he is an exhibitionist.

He is playing "to" his audience, not "for"
his audience, and there is a vast difference
between the two. In trying to catch the audi-
ence, the actor loses them. What he does not
yet know is that if he plays the character with
intelligence and appreciation of his own small
part in the continuity of the play, he may
gain their interest.

For instance, if he breezes in, chewing gum vigorously, winks
at the stenographer, whisks off his cap (inside of which he carries
the telegram), and speaks his line with a "Dead End" twang, he
will be in character, and the audience will accept him as such.

In his eagerness to get an effect over, the actor in this phase is
inclined to overdo everything. Instead of taking two steps, as he is
told, he takes ten. When he is told to lift his hand, he makes a
swooping gesture. In short, he leaves nothing to the imagination of
the audience (and don't forget that the audience, although obvi-
ously passive, is actually participating in the performance
it will react to suggestion and implication just as well as to blunt
statement).

The showoff, unfortunately, gives all!

His sensitive ego, which has wilted under the frustrations and
pain of the first stage of acting, now blooms too lavishly. Although
he isn't aware of it, he is actually more concerned with getting
even with his hurt feelings than he is in putting over a good per-
formance. That is why he rants and raves. Furthermore, he is

THE BUSINESS OF ACTING * 39

terrified of failure, and the greater his terror the louder his voice
and the more flamboyant his gestures.

Scratch a pulpit pounder and you'll find a speaker afraid of his
power of oratory. Tap a loud-voiced, stalking player and you'll
discover a timid, quaking mouse!

Acting Well Done

When the actor stops paying attention to how he feels about his
audience's reaction to his acting, he is well on his way to the third
phase of acting, which I have called "well done."

The actor belongs behind the footlights, and there his mind should
rest. When he starts wondering and speculating how much the
audience likes or does not like him, he loses control of his per-
formance. He'll know soon enough how the audience feels about
him. Applause, laughter and sometimes silence (which is often
more eloquent than applause) will reveal the audience's response.

The new player has gone through the first stage of his expert
ment. He has lost the timidity, which is that of a young child
learning to walk. He has learned too much in too short a time,
perhaps, and tried to use it all at once, and hence, he has spent a
period in the second, overdone stage of acting. (Some actors never
leave it!)

And now he has reached the third phase.

An extraordinary transformation has come into his acting. He
has been struggling blindly and hopelessly, and suddenly he finds
himself going ahead in his work with incredible speed. He feels
that a miracle has happened.

But there is no miracle.

There is a change in the actor's relationship between himself
and his acting. His attitude is now positive instead of negative.
Once he has made this step, he begins to move ahead and do things,
and he knows for the first time what real acting is about.

The new player is now willing to forget his personal pride and
self-consciousness; he looks at his part from an entirely new view-
point. He is no longer personally concerned but is simply the
instrument necessary to create the part.

40 ' THE BUSINESS OF ACTING

When an actor looks at himself from the outside with courage,
he knows for the first time the real joy of acting. Immediately he
steps into the creative process and begins to grow. When this
happens to an actor, his work becomes a finished art, and his fears
depart.

No actor can mistake it when once he has experienced this kind
of growth. It always comes to the actor who has at last found the
secret of eliminating self and becoming a medium through which
the best of self is given to his audience.

In the third phase of acting, the actor recognises the value of
technique and how and when it should be used. It is his encydb'
pedia, to be referred to when needed. From it he draws a gesture,
a voice sound, a facial expression.

He never ma\es a move that is false or untimely. He never cries
or whines a scene. He controls his emotions with intelligent restraint.

He has learned how to conserve body movements. He knows
that a whisper may convey fright just as well as a loud shout. In
order to express horror, he need not scream, clutch his hands to his
breast, and run about. By simply standing still, his eyes fastened
on an object, he may convey the emotion more truly.

If the actor is playing the old captain of a doomed and sinking
ship, he realises that the captain would not moan and wring his
hands in despair. Rather he would probably reminisce senti-
mentally; he might even poke an affectionate joke at the ancient
tub that, after thirty years 1 service, has sprung a leak. Perhaps he
would call his men together and drink a toast to the ship. He might
even speak to God, thanking hi for the splendid years of living on
the sea.

Not for a moment would the captain declaim or bewail his fate;
the situation is strong enough in itself to move the audience. They
will live every second with the captain and pray that a rescue will
be effected.

If the playwright decided to add a happy ending, this would be
the logical time to spring his dramatic moment just as hope is at
its lowest ebb. When the captain learned that he was not to die
after all, he would simply raise his glass, look upward and say,

THE BUSINESS OF ACTING - 41

In creating the role of Queen Victoria in Laurence Housman's
"Victoria Regina," Helen Hayes gave the modern American
theater not only its finest characterisation but also a master^
piece in make-up. (By Courtesy of Life Magazine.')

42 ' THE BUSINESS OF ACTING

"Thank you." This simple gesture would produce more real
feeling than a scene in which the captain fell on his knees and
blubbered, "Thank God, we're saved!"

This is acting well done and as near perfection as a player can
make it.

When a situation in a play has natural power, the actor
need not call on too generous treatment. A better effect
can be had by underacting.

.EXAMPLE !

Scene from "Victoria Regina," by Laurence Housman 1

The Queen has been out driving with her husband, Albert.
Much to their annoyance, she has refused to allow her ladies to
accompany them. They discuss the reason for not being taken.
(They think it is because the Queen and her husband have
quarreled and wish to be alone.) Then, suddenly, they hear a
pistol shot. The ladies see a crowd gathering outside the palace. A
third ladyin-waiting rushes into the room to say that the Queen
has been shot at.

As the ladies realize the real reason why the Queen has not
included them in her drive, they are prostrated. (She knew this was
going to happen.) Victoria enters, reproves gently but firmly the
two ladies for awaiting her. She tells them she will not need them
again that evening. Lady Muriel apologizes, explaining that she
did not at first understand the Queen's motive for keeping them at
home.

VICTORIA

Of course not. It was not necessary that you should. But now you do.
So that will help you to know better another time. Go. Please, Lady
Muriel. I don't want you any more now. (She curtsey and exits, leaving
Albert and Victoria alone)

ALBERT

(Turning sharply) Another time!

1 "Victoria Regina," by Laurence Housman, Charles Scribner's Sons.

THE BUSINESS OF ACTING 43
VICTORIA

Why, yes, Albert; there may come another time. Why not?

ALBERT

Oh, my dear, my dear! (He crosses to her) And you can say that now
... as if you did not mind if it should come again! (He sits beside her)
Is that really true?

VICTORIA

Yes, Albert; it was wonderful! For, with you, I felt ... so safe.
. . . Didn't you?

ALBERT

No, Weibchen. I was afraid!

VICTORIA
Afraid?

ALBERT

I was afraid that ... if he missed one of us, it might be me that he
missed. Ah, no, no, no! Do not talk of another time! I could not bear it!

VICTORIA

Oh, Albert, had I thought for a moment that it might be you ... I
couldn't have gone! But that that could happen I did not think!

ALBERT

What a very good thing it was, then, my dear, that you did not think.
Queens must not think too much about others . . . only about them^
selves! (He Jesses her)

VICTORIA
(Relaxed) Dearest! Have I pleased you?

ALBERT

You have more than pleased me. You have behaved . . . like a

44 ' THE BUSINESS OF ACTING
VICTORIA

Then I must go and take off my things. Oh, dear! What a lot of letters
I shall have to write now. To Uncle Leopold, and to everybody! (And
with this inconvenience of attempted assassination upon her mind, off she
goes, for there is no time to lose)

How it will interest them. "Just think," I can hear them say, "poor
Vicky's been shot at." After all, when one has been shot at, it's worth
writing about.

When the Queen reproves her ladies for questioning her
judgment, she does so in a dignified but kindly manner. She is
fully aware of the possibility of a recurrence of the shooting, but
her voice expresses no fear or dramatic resignation . . . merely an
acknowledgment that it is bound to happen again. Danger is part
of the heritage of a queen. But Albert's voice rises in fear when he
repeats, "Another time!" Her response that there may be another
time is simple, not melodramatic. She doesn't consider herself a
martyr.

Albert's reaction is one of love and intense admiration, almost
awe, as he recognizes her courage and gallantry. Victoria, clothed
with love, tells him that with him there she could feel no fear.
But Albert was afraid. ... If the bullet had touched her . . .
The thought of losing her is unbearable. The Queen is only a
woman asking for a compliment from her lover when she says,
"Dearest, have I pleased you?"

Receiving Albert's adoring praise, Victoria becomes Queen
again. "There are a great many letters to be written," she says.

In this scene, fear for the beloved is the emotion that both feel,
but Victoria's fear is tempered by the security of her love. Albert's
fear is mixed with admiration for his wife's courage. By breeding
and instinct, these two people are gentle and controlled.

The scene would lose its dramatic content if played this way:

Wrong Treatment

The Queen enters dramatically, her attitude betraying her
nervousness and fear. When she tells Albert there will be another
time, she dramatizes herself, throwing into her voice all the

THE BUSINESS OF ACTING 45

awareness of the danger of her position. In other words, her
attitude is, fc Tm a queen and they shoot at me! I must make this
great sacrifice." Her voice and manner indicate that she is a help'
less martyr to her position.

When Albert responds passionately that, had the bullet
reached her he could not bear it, he wrings his hands, paces the
floor, and moans. And when Victoria asks whether she has pleased
him, she makes a demand for sympathy and a pat on the back. His
answer is broad and declamatory. Then, as Victoria leaves Albert
to write letters to her relations, she will again be a martyr.

Overplayed in this manner, the scene becomes a weak exaggera-
tion of an episode that is inherently dramatic.

Scene from Ibsen s "Ghosts" 1

The nature of this scene is so delicate and emotional in content
that it calls for sensitive, restrained acting. Any other kind would
bring the risk of ridiculous melodrama.

The emotions of Mrs. Alving, the mother, are mingled shock,
horror, love, and a pathetic helplessness in her desire to help her
son. At times the emotions force her into physical action, but her
behavior is at no time broad or unrestrained.

OSWALD

(Sits on the sofa) Now we will have a little talk, mother.

MRS. ALVING

(She pushes an armchair toward the sofa and sits down close to him)
Yes, let us.

OSWALD

And meantime the sun will be rising. And then you will know all.
And then I shan't have that dread any longer.

MRS. ALVING

What am I to know?

1 "Ghosts," by Henrik Ibsen, from The Best Known Wor\s of Ibsen, Blue Ribbon
Books, Inc.

46 THE BUSINESS OF ACTING
OSWALD

listening to her) Mother, didn't you say, a little while ago, that
there was nothing in the world you would not do for me, if I asked you?

MRS. ALVING

Yes, to be sure I said it.

OSWALD
And youll stick to it, mother?

MRS. ALVING

You may rely on that, my dear and only boy! I have nothing in the
world to live for but you alone.

OSWALD

All right, then; now you shall hear. Mother, you have a strong, stead'
fast mind, I know. Now you are to sit quite still when you hear it.

MRS. ALVING

What dreadful thing can it be ...

OSWALD

You are not to scream out. Do you hear? Do you promise me that?
We'll sit and talk about it quite quietly. Do you promise me this, mother?

MRS. ALVING

Yes, yes; I promise you that. Only speak!

OSWALD

Well, you must know that all this fatigue and my not being able to
think of working at all ... all that is not the illness itself . . .

MRS. ALVING

Then what is the illness itself?

OSWALD

The disease I have as my birthright (he points to his forehead and adds
very softly) is seated here.

THE BUSINESS OF ACTING ' 47
MRS. ALVING

(In a deep whisper of horror) Oswald! No! No!

OSWALD

Don't scream. I can't bear it. Yes, it is sitting here . . . waiting. And
it may break out any day ... at any moment.

MRS. ALVING

Oh! what horror!

OSWALD
No, do be quiet. That's how it stands with me ...

MRS. ALVING

(Jumps up) It is not true, Oswald. It is impossible. It can't be so!

OSWALD

I have had one attack down there already. It was soon over. But when
I got to know what had been the matter with me, then the dread came
upon me raging and tearing; and so I set off home to you as fast as I could.

MRS. ALVING

Then this is the dread . . . ?

OSWALD

Yes, for it's so indescribably awful, you know. Oh! If it had been
merely an ordinary mortal disease! For I'm not so afraid of death . . .
though I should like to live as long as I can.

MRS. ALVING

Yes, yes, Oswald, you must.

OSWALD

But this is so unspeakably loathsome! To become a little baby again!
To have to be fed! To have to . . . Oh! I can't speak of it!

MRS. ALVING

The child has his mother to nurse him.

48 THE BUSINESS OF ACTING
OSWALD

(Jumps up) No, never; that's just what I won't have. I can't endure
to think that perhaps I should lie in that state for many years ... get
old and gray. And in the meantime you might die and leave me. (Sits in
chair) For the doctor said it would not necessarily prove fatal at once.
He called it a sort of softening of the brain ... or something of the
kind, (Smiles sadly) I think that expression sounds so nice. It always sets
me thinking of cherry-colored velvet . . . something soft and delicate
to stroke, . . .

MRS. ALVING

(Cries out) Oswald!

OSWALD

(Springs up and paces the room) And now you have taken Regina
from me. If I'd only had her I She would have come to the rescue, I know.

MRS. ALVING

(Goes to him) What do you mean by that, my darling boy? Is there any
help in the world that I wouldn't give you?

OSWALD

When I got over my attack in Paris, the doctor told me that when it
came again . . . and it will come again . . . there would be no more
hope.

MRS. ALVING

He was heartless enough. . . .

OSWALD

I demanded it of him. I told him I had preparations to make. (He smiles
cunningly) And so I had. (He ta\es a little box from his inner breast poc\et
and opens it) Mother, do you see these?

MRS. ALVING

What is that?

OSWALD

Morphia powder.

THE BUSINESS OF ACTING 49
MRS. ALVING

horrified at him) Oswald . . . my boy?

OSWALD

I have scraped together twelve pilules. . . .

MRS. ALVING

(Snatches it) Give me the box, Oswald.

OSWALD
(Hides the box again in his pocket) Not yet, mother.

MRS. ALVING

I shall never survive this.

OSWALD

It must be survived. Now, if I had Regina here, I should have told
her how it stood with me and begged her to come to the rescue at the
last. She would have done it. I'm certain she would.

MRS. ALVING

Never 1

OSWALD

When the horror had come upon me and she saw me lying there help'
less, like a new-born baby, impotent, lost, helpless, past saving . . .

MRS. ALVING

Never in all the world would Regina have done this.

OSWALD

Regina would have done it, Regina was so splendidly lighthearted.
And she would soon have wearied of nursing an invalid like me ...

MRS. ALVING

Then Heaven be praised that Regina is not here.

OSWALD
Well, then it is you that must come to the rescue, mother.

50 ' THE BUSINESS OF ACTING
MRS. ALVING

(Screams aloud) I?

OSWALD

Who is nearer to it than you?

MRS. ALVING

I [ Your mother 1

OSWALD

For that very reason.

MRS. ALVING

I, who gave you life!

OSWALD

I never asked you for life. And what sort of a life is it that you have
given me? I will not have it. You shall take it back again.

MRS. ALVING

Help! Help! (She runs out into the hall)

OSWALD

(Goes after her) Don't leave me. Where are you going?

MRS. ALVING

(In the hall) To fetch the doctor, Oswald. Let me go.

OSWALD

(LocJp the outer door) You shall not go. And no one shall come in.

MRS. ALVING

(Returns to the room) Oswald . . . Oswald . . . my child!

OSWALD

(Follows her) Have you a mother's heart for me, and yet can see me
suffer from this unutterable dread?

MRS. ALVING

(After a moment's silence commands herself) Here is my hand upon it.

THE BUSINESS OF ACTING 51
OSWALD

Will you . . . ?

MRS. ALVING

If it is ever necessary. But it will never be necessary. No no, it is
impossible.

OSWALD

Well, let us hope so, and let us live together as long as we can. Thank
you, mother. (He sits down in the armchair which Mrs. Alving has moved
to the sofa. Day is breaking. The lamp is still burning on the table)

MRS. ALVING

(Drawing near cautiously) Do you feel calm, now?

OSWALD

Yes.

MRS. ALVING

(Bending over him) It has been a dreadful fancy of yours. Oswald . . .
nothing but a fancy. You have not been able to bear all this excitement.
But now you shall have a long rest; at home with your own mother, my
own blessed boy. Everything you point to you shall have, just as when
you were a little child. There, now! That crisis is over now. You see
how easily it passed. Oh! I was sure it would. . . . And do you see,
Oswald, what a lovely day we are going to have? Brilliant sunshine!
Now you will really be able to see your home. (She goes to the table and
puts the lamp out. Sunrise. The glacier and the snow pea\s in the bad?
ground glow in the morning light)

OSWALD

(Sits in the chair with his bac\ toward the window without moving)
Mother, give me the sun.

MRS. ALVING

(Starts and loo\s at him) What do you say?

OSWALD
(Repeats in a dull, toneless voice) The sun ... the sun.

52 THE BUSINESS OF ACTING
MRS. ALVING

(Goes to him) Oswald, what is the matter with you? (He seems to
shrinl^ together in the chair: all his muscles relax; his face is expressionless;
his eyes have a glassy stare. Mrs. Alving is quivering with terror) What is
this? (She screams) Oswald, what is the matter with you? (She falls on her
tyees and sha\es him) Oswald . . . Oswald . . . Look at me! ...
Don't you know me?

OSWALD

(Mutters tonelessly) The sun ... the sun.

MRS. ALVING

(Springs up in despair and cries out) I cant bear it ( (Whispers as though
petrified) I can't bear it! Never! (Suddenly remembers the poison) Where
has he got them? (She fumbles hastily in his breast poc\et) Here! (She
shrinks bac\ a few steps and screams) No ... no ... no! Yes! . . .
no, no! (She stands a few steps from him with her hands twisted in her
hair and stares at him in speechless terror)

OSWALD

(Sits motionless and says) The sun . . . the sun!

The Wrong Way to Play the Scene

In the opening line, Oswald and his mother, by vocal pitch and
inflection, reveal too soon the drama/tic content of the situation
instead of suggesting it. They give themselves no room to let the
emotions expand. Mrs. Alving's protest at Oswald's confession
of insanity brings a loud cry instead of a whisper of anguish. When
she jumps up, she wrings her hands, cries, runs about, thereby
dissipating the force of the moment. When Oswald mentions
becoming a child again, he whines as a child, instead of speaking in
a low, doomed voice. Mrs. Alving becomes maudlin as she assures
her son she will give him anything. As Oswald takes out the poi-
son and holds it up, he makes the gesture broad by holding the
box at arm's length and gloating over it. As his insanity develops,
he stalks about, raving reproaches at his mother, thereby produc'
ing an effect of comedy instead of tragedy.

THE BUSINESS OF ACTING ' 53

If Oswald raises his voice and declaims when he asks for the
sun, the line loses all its suggestion. When Mrs. Alving debates
whether or not to give her son the poison, she runs about the
room in a helpless manner, calling for help and weeping.

The Right Way to Play the Scene

As the scene opens, Mrs. Alving's mood is normal. She is sitting
down with her son for a heart-to-heart talk. Her voice is soft and
subdued, with just a hint of apprehension in it. Oswald's voice is
quiet, but it has an underlying note of excitement. The whole
attitude of his body reveals a sense of brooding. His mood is
confessional, he wants to unburden himself; by sharing his secret
he wishes to lose some of his own torment. There should be little
or no physical movement until Oswald's confession of his in-
herited insanity. And even that gesture, as he points to his fore-
head, should not be broad or obvious.

All the horror Mrs. Alving feels is concentrated in her subdued,
shocked whisper and her facial expression. Then, as her son
enlarges on the subject, taking a morbid pleasure in unburdening
himself, the mother's reaction becomes stronger. She jumps up;
her voice rises in protest. It can't be! As he speaks wistfully of his
desire to live, her mood turns to tenderness. She tells him gently
that she will nurse him. The thought of being helpless sends
Oswald to his feet, but the physical action brings him no release.
He flings himself onto a chair again. All his body actions should
convey the feeling of morbid brooding and despair. As he voices
his fears, showing the first subtle signs of his growing insanity,
his mother cries out again in alarm. Thinking of Regina, Oswald
springs to his feet, paces the room. His motions should be those of
a caged animal. They should have a hunted quality.

Mrs. Alving becomes gently solicitous; she asks her son if there
is any help in the world she would deny him. In response Oswald
draws from his pocket the poison, with a sly, cunning gesture
(his movements are becoming more expressive of his mental
condition). His mother, terrified, tries to snatch it away. Now, she
begins to break under the strain. Her line, "I shall never survive

54 THE BUSINESS OF ACTING

this," must be restrained and yet carry all the pain and pity of her
maternal affection combined with her horror of the situation
itself.

Oswald talks petulantly of Regina, how she might have saved
him (by giving him the poison when his insanity returns). Mrs.
Alving protests. Oswald's excitement mounts until the insanity
takes a violent form. In terror, his mother goes for help. Oswald
follows her, fearful of being left alone. He pleads with his mother
to give him the poison if the insanity returns. She promises to
stand by him, assuring him, however, that the occasion will
never arise.

Oswald's behavior throughout the scene must be that of a
person driven by a fear and dread of an affliction that is incurable
and hopeless. Mrs. Alving's mood is cheerful and soothing as she
turns out the lamp and tells her boy of the rising sun. But it is
too late! For Oswald has sunk into complete insanity. Murder,
love, horror, and pity clash within Mrs. Alving as she stands
transfixed, debating whether or not to give Oswald the poison, to
save him from a living death.

The Artistic Temperament

The novice who confuses temper with temperament has many
followers. It is a play on words that is only too frequent in real
life as well as on the stage.

Katharine Cornell put her finger on this confusion when she
said: "All actors are supposed to have temperament, but real
temperament is something infinitely more than eccentric behavior
which enables one to become 'good copy. 1 A flair for publicity
does not necessarily mean a flair for acting."

I remember an actress whose habit it was to respond to all
my directions with "But I don't feel it that way!"

It was her artistic prerogative, I suppose she thought, to play
the part as her own sensitive awareness of human nature dictated.

But that wasn't the real reason. The play was a farce, and the
actress, a veteran of the stage, wasn't at home in farce. Her excuse,
"I do not feel it that way," was made to cover her lack of knowl-
edge of this difficult and unique kind of acting.

THE BUSINESS OF ACTING 55

In other words, it was easier to throw a scene than to learn!

The real artistic temperament is the actor's individual peculi-
arity of physical and mental constitution that permits him to
give something personal to a part.

His skill in handling the technical tools results in competent
acting, but his way of looking at life adds that which is com-
pelling and unique. It is the reach of his sympathy that sets the
limits of each actor's strength.

It is like a river of intense feeling that flows out of him, vibrat-
ing with nervous force. Its source is the actor's own body and
mind, and it is the deciding factor in what is termed "tempera-
mental playing."

No new actor has any idea of the tremendous energy he can call
on for artistic growth. Until he has gained a thorough understand-
ing of the physical, mental, and emotional mechanics of acting
and learned how the three are interrelated, he is never quite
aware of this force. The effect is that of fierce emotion surging
within him, trying to burst its bonds, fumbling for the right
words, the right action to express his feeling. It involves a slow
process of development that finally leads to the reaction that
the actor has within him the power to make other people feel
the things he is thinking. Once he discovers its source, this flow
can be increased or restrained at will.

Vitality in Acting

Vitality in acting depends on the extent of the actor's identifica-
tion with the part he is playing, the intensity and sincerity of his
own feeling, and his power to project emotional vibrations. For
the audience will react in proportion to the intensity of the
vibrations.

Every actor recognises the necessity of this personal contribu-
tion to the emotions of his audience. A well-known Broadway
player attended a matinee performance of Maurice Evans'
production of "Henry IV." "I had a wonderful time," she said,
with the enthusiasm of a schoolgirl fan. "I came away bursting
with energy. Then I reali^d what the good actor does to his
audience. . . . He gives off vitality!"

56 ' THE BUSINESS OF ACTING

Consider the other side of the picture.

If the actor simply parrots his lines and follows a set of direc-
tions, he leaves his audience cold. He produces no feeling of
vitality because his own emotions are not functioning. He is think'
ing, "On that line I cross left, sit down. The King enters. I jump
up. Ho hum! After this act, I'll take a cool drink and relax."

On the other hand, if he is thinking, "I am an innkeeper. I
weigh two hundred pounds. I am extremely indolent. I am look'
ing forward with great pleasure to drinking a large tankard of ale.
After bidding the last guest good night, I shuffle to the bench
before the fire, pour out the ale, and collapse with a grunt on the
bench. I take off my shoes, put my stocking feet (one bare toe
exposed) upon the ledge. Just then the King enters. I hoist myself
up. I make a clumsy bow, spilling the ale as I rise."

This actor has a clear conception of character. He is indolent
(shuffling gait); self-indulgent (drinking ale); careless of appearance
(hole in sock). He pours the ale with a gleam of hearty anticipation
on his face. He falls (not sits) on his chair, and he resents the intru-
sion of the King, his superior, because he must rise.

At every step of the way, the audience feels with this char-
acter, because the actor himself is feeling the part.

This is vitality in acting.

Example: A player points the sharp end of a dagger in the direc-
tion of another player. The second actor regards this as a dangerous
weapon, not a pasteboard prop. He reacts to it emotionally. The
emotion is fear. Why? Because his mind tells him (through the
memory of recall) that daggers are sharp, and he may be injured.
Thus, when he dodges the blade, he rouses in the audience a
sense of danger averted.

After a long run of a play, the actors come to believe in the
reality of the props and the settings. The room in which they live
each night from 8:30 to 11 is really a room and not a set. The
clothes they wear are their own, not wardrobe-room property.
And when they see props and setting as reality, they respond to
them emotionally.

And so does the audience.

IBoay Q^iace

IN STAGE parlance, body grace means control of body movements
and gestures.

The trained actor holds his body in restraint until he is sure
just what he wants to do with it; then, with all the intelligence
and grace at his command, he guides it.

He checks his arm movements until he is ready to make the
gesture best suited to the part he is playing. He restrains his leg
muscles until he receives his cue to move, with appropriate ges-
tures, to a new position. He controls his facial expression (made
from constant contraction of muscles under the skin of the face)
until he has the right kind of mental stimulation to handle that
contraction with telling force.

In every instance, the actors mind is directing his body move-
ments. Hence the term "body control."

There is a tendency in the new actor to follow the line of least
resistance. If it seems more comfortable to curve the spine a bit to
one side and to slouch the shoulders, he does those things instinc'
tively, without regard to appearance.

Although his mental equipment may be adequate for the battle
with stage training, his physical equipment, unless this tendency is
curbed, will fell far short of even average possibilities. In other
words, the would-be actor is starting his training with a very

58 BODY GRACE

grave handicap: lack of discipline or control over mind and body
at the same time, whether they are at rest or in movement a
discipline that must reach perfection on the stage.

Alarming as this may sound (and to sound an alarm is my pur-
pose), the outlook is not entirely discouraging. Most postural
defects can be corrected easily if a conscious effort is made. Grace
in body movement can be achieved.

The secret of good posture lies in a straight spine. If the
backbone is held in proper vertical position, the shoulders and
chest and hips automatically fall into line.

The best posture is that of a well-set-up soldier who assumes
this position without the slightest effort. He is not conscious of
muscle rigidity; on the other hand, he is aware of a sense of power
and alertness that is at his immediate command when his stance is
correct.

How to Check your Posture

Stand erect. Imagine that you are about to be hit from the rear.
Automatically you straighten your body, bringing the abdomen
up and in. Hold it! This movement raises the chest, stretching the
distance from the waistline to the underarm (the midriff, calisthenic
coaches call it). There . . . your posture is correct. Keep it that
way.

And while you are perfectly poised, stretch and tense the
stomach muscles. Continue this tensing upward and inward until
you feel the pull in the middle of the back.

Standing at Ease

Now that your posture is correct, you needn't stand as unbend-
ing as Cleopatra's needle. Relax ! Let the body suggest comfortable
ease.

To accomplish this, lean against the wall, the feet about six
inches from the baseboard. Roll up the spine, beginning with the

BODY GRACE 59

bottom vertebra, until the back is tight against the wall, all the
way from the hips to the base of the skull. Now push away from
the wall and stand erect. Pretend you are looking over a fence, just
a little above eye level.

The slight lift of the chin sets the shoulders back and keeps the
chest up.

Your posture is correct; your body is relaxed and at ease.

Grace in Arm Movements

Plenty of young actors regard their arms as boards nailed on at
the shoulders, swinging loose to the finger tips. They are afraid to
bend their arms lest they creak or even to allow natural gestures
when they are so directed. I find this extreme attitude as common
among the nonchalant boys and girls who are hanging on to their
poise with grim determination by keeping their arms in stiff posi-
tion as among the misguided youngsters who have been taught
that being natural (that is, not bothering with body grace) is the
real proof of art.

For his own part, the actor is ignoring the fact that the arm
has three important hinges, the shoulder, the elbow, and the
wrist, and that by proper manipulation of these hinges, he can
use his arms to reveal moods and character.

For instance: the elbows nudge; they prop us up when we are
tired; they stand out in sharp defiance; when they are brought in
toward the body, they show timidity.

Shoulders shrug with indifference; they slump when we are
tired or discouraged; they bend with old age; they shake with
hearty laughter; they move with heavy sobs.

The wrist bends when we cup something, mix bread, or mold
clay. It tenses when we close our fists.

The arm is divided into three areas of control:

1. Shoulder to elbow
. 2. Elbow to wrist
3. Hands

60 BODY GRACE

The area of the upper arm is strongest because the vital force or
blood flows there first. Obviously, then, this section of the arm
from the shoulder to the elbow is the most useful to the actor
when his part calls for force. For example, when he moves another
actor around the stage, he takes him by the upper arm, or he
touches him at the elbow

From the wrist to the elbow is the affectional area:
Example: In a caressive gesture, a mother holds her child with
her forearms.

The hands, as I shall explain fully in Chapter 5, are the mental
area.

How to Walk

Just as some actors are unaware that there are three hinges to
the arm, so they are likely to forget that the leg has a similar
number of hinges:

1. The hip

2. The knee

3. The ankle

The hip corresponds to the shoulder, the knee to the elbow, and
the ankle to the wrist. As the actor points with his fingers, so he
uses his toes (which, by the way, should always point outward).

The thigh area, from the hip to the knee (just as with the upper
arm), is the strongest part of the leg. It is here that the greater part
of the body weight should be carried. Don't put the entire load on
your feet. Let the thigh and the hip muscles support their share of
your weight. In walking, the thigh should be lifted forward;
the calf and the foot swing from the knee. The unbending of the
knee places the foot down as the weight simultaneously falls on it.

Walking, after all, is posture in motion. In walking we follow
the same principles as in standing. We step out lightly, with the
weight distributed between the ball of the feet and the heel. We
don't walk heavily on our heels. And we do not tiptoe!

BODY GRACE ' 61

Remember these rules:

1. Lead with your chin, not your stomach.

2. -4s you walk, move your hips and knees.

3. A slight swinging motion of the arms will give you
the right balance.

With ten minutes of walking around the room with a book or
pillow on the head, twice daily, the walking posture may be kept
under control. If, at the same time, you keep your mind on the
position of chairs, tables, and sofas, you will grow accustomed to
moving around stage furniture with ease and precision.

The Torso

To the average young actor, the part of the body called the
torso is of little use in stage playing. He has the feeling that by
remaining on his two feet and extending an arm, he can impress his
audience with the fact that he is reaching out for something. When
he wants to convey the idea that he is leaning, he simply inclines
his head. In neither case is there visible movement of the body.

All these movements are wrong because they do not include
proper use of the torso. As the head is inclined or the arm is
extended, the whole body must move with the head or the arm,
either forward or backward or sidewise, as the gesture may
require.

Three Attitudes of the Torso

1. Expansion (Leaning "to" an Object)

a. A direct forward movement is objective. It is positive and
shows purpose.

Example: We bend toward the table and select a book.

b. An oblique movement is subjective. An inner attitude moves
us. Secrecy, craftiness, stealth are sidewise moves.

Example: We lean over the chair to read the letter of another.

62 BODY GRACE

2. Contraction (Leaning "from" an Object)

a. A direct backward movement on a straight line is objective.
Example: We back away from something repulsive.

b. An oblique movement is subjective. It signifies an inner
impulse.

Example: We hide from something, crouching in the dark.

3. Relaxation (Leaning "before" an Object)

a. On a straight line expresses reverence, humility, resignation,
grief.

Example: We bow before the inevitable.

b. Oblique or off the line expresses indifference, boredom,
annoyance.

Example: We stand slumped, the head forward, the weight on
one foot, listening to a boring and overlong speech.

When the body is erect and on a straight line it is positive;
when it is off the line it is negative. A person who is always leaning
against something shows not only lack of vitality but indifference.

Character and mood also can be shown in the torso by a twist-
ing movement. A shy child, a coy young girl, or a sulky person
twists the torso from side to side.

A love scene wouldn't be played by two characters standing
bolt upright in a rigid manner, and neither would a general

commanding his army stand on one foot, leaning against a wall.

/

How to Rise from a Chair

When we rise from a chair, our first impulse is to haul ourselves
up by the chair arms. Don't do it! Seen from across the footlights,
such a movement is almost grotesque. It suggests an outsi^d
derrick in action.

BODY GRACE 63

Instead, let your thigh muscles lift your body. Let your spine
push you from the chair.

Don't plant your two feet close together as you rise. If you do,
youll be thrown off your balance. Rather, sit with one foot rest-
ing on the floor slightly in front of the other. Thus, on rising, you
will achieve perfect balance.

Instinctive Moves and Mechanical Moves

If you have a naturally graceful body or if you have undergone
the right kind of training in body movement prior to embarking on
a stage career, you may know how to walk and sit and stand and
how and when to make a gesture. These moves are instinctive
moves, performed with the freedom of ignorance, and, so far as
they go, they are all right, but they cannot be depended upon.

There are times when a part calls for deliberate body action to
get a certain stage effect, and the actor must be prepared to per-
form this action. The move then becomes mechanical and not
instinctive. It is performed with the freedom of knowledge.

The mechanics of body movement consist of a series of transi-
tional moves designed to give special interpretation to a character,
to contribute rhythm and life to a scene, or to round out the gen-
eral composition of the stage picture.

Example: Cross a room to a desk. Light a cigarette. Sit down on a
chair.

Each movement or gesture must have a motive behind it.
Economy of movement is one of the most difficult things for the
new actor to learn. So bottled up is his energy that he has no sense
of repose. He is inclined to run about the stage, with the result that
he dissipates that force. He isn't aware that he can make an
audience watch him by simply standing still. Acting doesn't
necessarily mean action.

In order to show how to conserve muscular energy, relax the
different parts of the body, and, at the same time, give them
freedom, I have arranged a series of simple exercises.

64 ' BODY GRACE

EXERCISES

1. Stand with the feet just far enough apart to give balance.
Extend the arms before you, shoulder height. Relax the muscles
and let the arms drop limply to the sides.

2. Extend the arms to the side, shoulder height, and repeat the
same exercise.

3. Repeat both the foregoing exercises, first with the left arm,
then with the right.

4. Stand with the spine straight and roll the head around in a
circle, with the neck muscles entirely relaxed. Do this movement
first to the left, then to the right.

5. Stand with the feet far enough apart to give you balance.
Extend both arms to the left, palms down, shoulder height. Relax
the muscles and let the arms drop. As you do this, sway the body
so as to carry the arms to the right shoulder height. Catch them
there and hold the position. Hold for a second. Then relax the
muscles and let the arms drop limply. Sway the body; swing the
arms to the left. Catch the arms there and hold for a second. Repeat
this- exercise until you can relax and tense the muscles at
will.

6. Stand with the feet far enough apart to give balance. Sway
the body to the left in a circle from the waistline. To begin the
move, sway forward and over left, back and over right, then front
This movement is continuously circular from the waistline. The
arms and the neck are relaxed and follow along. The head rolls
over with the movement. Repeat to the right.

7- Stand with the feet far enough apart to give balance. Keep
the arms at the side relaxed. Sway the body to the left and throw
the sums to the left and over the head. Describe a circle with them.
The body will give enough momentum to 'carry the arms around.
Repeat the exercise to the right.

8. Repeat the above exercise to the left. As you get into motion,
bend forward and back from the waistline with a circular move-
ment. Throw the arms down toward the floor. Carry the arms as
near the floor as possible on the downward sweep. As they come

BODY GRACE 65

up over the head, the body is bent back from the waistline. You
are describing a complete circle with the arms. Let the eyes follow
the hands. Repeat the exercise to the right.

9. Select a book about two inches thick. Step on it with the
right foot. Relax the muscles of the left leg and allow it to swing
limp. Repeat with the right leg. If at first you cannot keep your
balance, hold onto a chair.

10. Stand with both feet together, spine straight. Keep the
feet on the floor. Lean forward as far as possible, using the ankle
as a hinge. Then lean back as far as you can. Now describe an
entire circle with the body.

11. Stand with the feet slightly apart, the arms limp at your
sides. Turn the head to the left as far as you can. Let the body
sway slightly by rolling over the left foot and picking up the right
heel. Turn the head to the right as far as you can. Let your body
follow and help you around. Roll over the right foot and lift the
left heel. Make this one continuous movement from the left to the
right. To begin each move, throw the arms first to the left and then
to the right.

Synchroni2?Lng Speech with Action

Sooner or later, the young actor will be called upon to play a
scene in which he must dance or walk or play tennis or go through
some other elaborate physical movement, and, at the same time,
speak important dialogue.

It sounds easy enough, doesn't it? But wait until you try it for
the first time.

You have learned by this time that your movements on the
stage are in perfect accord with your thoughts. When you say,
"There it is on the table . . . " you walk to the table, and pick up
the book or brief case or vase of flowers that you are talking about.

Your speech and action are directed toward the same object.

But consider what happens in a scene in which you are dancing
(which means that you must think of the intricate dance routine
and guide your body and feet in the proper direction) and at the

66 BODY GRACE

same time speaking dialogue to your partner on any subject from
cabbages to kings! T^pw your brain is doing double duty: you are
thinking and spea\ing of one thing and thinking and doing another!

The old "How well we dance together, darling" kind of stage
talk is gone. No more does the leading man sing the words of
"Tales from the Vienna Woods" as he waltzes with the star
(thereby keeping his steps in time and filling in an awkward gap in
dialogue).

Instead, the actor and actress dance and at the same time carry
on talk that furthers the audience's understanding of the plot of
the play real dialogue, with a meaning, which has to be put over
logically and audibly and sometimes with appropriate body move-
ment, aside from dancing.

In the scene at Frau Sacher's in "Reunion in Vienna," Alfred
Lunt and Lynn Fontanne danced a waltz; and talked together as part
of the most important action of the play. So revealing were their
gestures and what they had to say to each other that gradually
the other actors on the stage nodded, smiled, bowed deeply and
departed, leaving the two lovers talking and dancing together:
A bit of action dialogue for the student to consider.

The most perfect example of muscular coordination is a young
couple dancing together. Their bodies sway in rhythm to the beat
of the music. They change from waltz tempo to tango with effort-
less ease. They have perfect control of their bodies and the shifting
movement of their feet.

I say, then, before you can hope to dance and speak dialogue at
the same time, you must learn to dance. Tou must have complete
body control.

So sure will be your dance technique that it will not be neces-
sary for your brain to telegraph dance movement messages to
your body; the body will follow through without orders. All the
brain energy you possess can be directed to the spot where it is
most needed: to the delivery of your lines as you move through
the body motions of the dance.

This same kind of body control is necessary in any sort of
movement made during a speech, be it leading a parade of soldiers

BODY GRACE 67

or pouring tea before a fireside in an English drawing room.
Control your body and your speech will follow as a logical part of
the complete scene.

Many of the dancers who worked for me in the early days have
found success in dramatic roles on the stage and in motion pictures.
Joan Crawford, Nancy Carroll, Barbara Stanwyck all danced in
the chorus of Shubert shows. In those days, their minds were kept
strictly on their dance steps. They were perfect dancing machines,
so sure of their routines that their bodies moved automatically.

What they were doing, actually, was paving the way for the
time when this body control would leave their minds free for the
other side of acting for lines and character interpretation.

One ballet girl seemed to sense this connection between body
grace and dramatic acting. In a Winter Garden revue, a very
intense, serious'faced young dancer used to beg me for under-
study roles. I had to refuse her because of the handicap of her
strong Russian accent. This handicap was later to prove a blessing.
In a few years, this same ballet girl, Eugenie Leontovich, stepped
into fame as the star of "Grand Hotel/' 1

Her magnificent performance of the tragic, weary dancer,
Grusinskaia, in that famous play would never have been so true
had Leontovich not gone through many years of actual ballet
training, which is the highest form of body control. Not only was
she able to do the necessary toe dancing but she brought to the
part a solid knowledge of a dancer's hopes and problems, her
background and struggles, and the tragedy of failure.

Since she had superb body control, Leontovich had only to go
ahead with her work on lines to make the most of her part.

Stage Poise

Off stage, when a lady enters a drawing room, she pauses at the
door, locates with her eye the chair or group of people or piano
toward which she is going, and then follows the line of her eye.

On stage, the actress follows very much the same program.
On entering the scene, she does not look down at the footlights,

68 BODY GRACE

stare at the audience, or cast her eyes on the floor. Poised and
ready for her lines, she moves toward the piece of furniture
assigned to her or to the person or group with whom she is to
speak. We shall assume that by the time the opening night has
arrived she is so familiar with every piece of stage furniture that,
if she must be seated, she will not look at the chair as though she
had never seen it.

But before she can hope to achieve this happy combination of
poise and delivery (no matter what her background off stage may
be) the new actress may have to go through a course of training in
stage movements either at home or in rehearsals. She will give her
director a pleasant surprise if she equips herself with a knowledge
of these movements before he asks her to face the footlights.

These exercises, followed in order, will do a lot to start her on
her way to an easy, self-assured stage presence.

EXERCISES

1. With the spine straight, the chin up, walk to a chair. Sit;
don't slump. After a short pause, get up. Step on the left foot and
walk to the left. If you are moving to the left, as you rise, step on
the left foot to begin the move. If you are moving to the right, use
the right foot. In this way you can rise and walk in one graceful,
sweeping move.

2. Place a chair center stage. Enter from stage left, and walk
quickly to the chair. Kneel on the left knee at the left of the chair.
Repeat this movement from the right of the stage. This exercise
will develop balance and poise.

3. Now make the same entrance from stage left, slowly this
time. Drop slowly onto the left knee, bow the head slowly forward
as if you were asking for forgiveness. Repeat this same move from
the right of the stage. This movement can be used in a "swash-
buckling" or costume part.

4. Walk toward a vase. Pick out a flower. Hold it up before you
and admire it. Show its beauty to your friends and then replace the
flower.

BODY GRACE

69

EXERCISE 5. Revulsion. (Illustrations for Exercises 5, 6, 7, &nd 8
were posed by Patricia Bowman, Americans foremost dancer of
ballet. Photographs by Richardson, St. Louis.)

5. Sway the body to the right with the hands to the left, about
shoulder height, palms away from you. This movement expresses
horror, dislike, revulsion. The movement of the hands and the
body should be made in unison.

70

BODY GRACE

EXERCISE 6. Dejection.

6. Stand with the spine straight. Let the body slump. Begin
the move by slowly bowing the head. The rest of the body follows
until the right knee bends a little and the weight is on the left leg.
Clasp your hands loosely. Perform the whole movement in unison.
This posture expresses despondency, hopelessness, tragedy, or
defeat.

BODY GRACE Jl

EXERCISE 7- Recovery.

7. From this tragic mood, listen as your name is called. Look
up and see some friend who inspires you with hope. The body
straightens, the chin comes up, and a smile breaks over the face.

BODY GRACE

EXERCISE 8. Stepping.

8. Imagine you are picking up a basket of flowers from the floor
with both hands (Exercise 8) and offering it (Exercise 9) to someone
who stands on a balcony. Keep the palms up when you extend the
hands. Do this in one continuous flowing movement.

BODY GRACE 73

EXERCISE 9. Offering.

In practicing Exercises 8 and 9 let the torso, shoulders, and
head help the action.

74 ' BODY GRACE

Movements and Gestures to Suggest Character

It happens to the best of us, so don't say it hasn't happened to
you that moment when some prejudiced friend or relative com-
pares your walk or arm movements or lift of the eyebrows to the
superlative movements of a stage celebrity.

Such as, "Dear, your walk is amazingly like Fontanne's." Or,
"Has anyone ever told you that your hand movements are like
Helen Hayes? 11 Or, "When you lift your eyebrows, you certainly
out'Lillie Lady Peel!'"

Well meant, no doubt, but deadly. For the pleasant glow that
accompanies your protest that it can't be true is probably fanned
into white-hot fire as you make up your mind to carry out the
mutual gesture or know the reason why.

You'll walk in quick, nervous steps, or you'll wave your hands
shyly, or you'll elevate your eyebrows until they are lost in your
bangs. And somehow, in the process of using their gestures, you'll
manage to absorb the other important qualities of the original
models.

And there is where the trouble starts. For the gesture or move-
ment that you copy doesn't belong to you.

On the mirror of every theatrical aspirant should be pasted
this warning:

Never use a gesture because you have seen
someone else use it and you like it. Ask your-
self whether the gesture or movement fits the
character you are playing.

Every bit of body movement has a meaning of its own. It can
reveal age, character, mood, education, and background of the
character you are interpreting. Instead of nourishing your ego by
using some movement that appeals to you, personally, as being
becoming to you (mainly because it is becoming to some other
actor), suppose, then, you consider the wisdom of letting each
gesture you make contribute to your interpretation of the char-
acter you are playing.

BODY GRACE 75

Youthful Movements

Theatrical folk, as well as playgoers, are still talking about
Katharine Hepburn's control of her body movements in her
interpretation of the young Amazon in 'The Warrior's Husband."
In one scene, Miss Hepburn made an entrance by hurling herself
headlong down a flight of stairs. Clad in armor, with a dead deer
slung over her shoulders, she was youth incarnate, a perfect
picture of vigorous, lithe, healthy, forceful young womanhood.

So realistic was Miss Hepburn's plunge down the stairs, that
veterans of the stage stood in the wings nightly and shook their
heads: "That girl will break her neck someday!"

But she didn't. Her balance (body control) was perfect. Not
once was she in danger of a fall.

Youthful body movements in acting reveal these qualities:

1. Spontaneity

2. Vitality

3. Enthusiasm

4. Nonreflection (The young person acts before he thinks; old
age reflects.)

Youth sits poised on the arm of a chair until the next thought
(or stage line) carries him elsewhere. He flings himself down on a
sofa, stretches his long legs, or drapes one leg over the arm. He is
ever ready for a new movement!

Old-age Movements

The slumping posture of old age suggests collapse of the muscles.
As we grow older, the spine shrinks. The old person sinks or falls
into a chair with a grunt or groan. He settles into the cushions; he
is gkd to be there.

Some of you will remember the veteran actor, John Drew, in the
revival of "Trelawney of the Wells," his last stage appearance.

Playing the part of a very old man, Mr. Drew fingered his
shoulder shawl, hobbled about, and called, testily: "Have we no
chairs?'' 1 And, once a chair was provided, he sank into it, bones

76 ' BODY GRACE

creaking, with a gesture of relief. Every gesture called for rest of
the weary body.

Old-age body movements reveal these qualities:

1. Slowness

2. Weakness

3. Caution

4. Reflection

In the last scene of "Victoria Regina," Helen Hayes, as the
aged queen, watched her Diamond Jubilee procession from a wheel
chair. Her limp little figure tried vainly to assume a regal pose. Her
hands clutched the arms of the chair, her head lifted with interest
as the crowd went by, and dropped with weariness when no one
was near. Her gestures as she caressed the heads of the royal
grandchildren, her sharp taps with her stick all these were
perfect body movements of old age.

And done with consummate artistry by an actress young
enough to be Victoria's great-great-grandchild!

Stage Falls

There are three different kinds of stage fall, and each can be
dangerous if not done scientifically. They are:

1. Fall for a faint result of shock

2. A wound fall result of a blow, bullet 9 or knife wound
3* A death fall natural withdrawal of life

In order to make a fall convincing, the muscles are left lax and
uncontrolled; the body seems to collapse. A relaxed stage fall is not
dangerous. It is only when the actor keeps his muscles tensed that
he is in danger of broken bones or concussions.

I have never known a more versatile actress than Marie Dressier.
She could jump from drama to comedy and back again without
batting an eyelash. At the mention of a new piece of comedy busi-
ness, she was as delighted as a child with a toy.

I had occasion to rehearse her in a burlesque sketch in a Winter
Garden revue in which she played a queen. To get a laugh at the
opening of the scene, I invented a trick throne for Miss Dressier to

BODY GRACE 77

use for comedy purposes. Since she hadn't seen the throne, I
stopped her at dress rehearsal to explain the trick to her. The
throne was upheld by two pieces of wood the thickness of a
match. When Miss Dressier sat down on it, she would fall through,
She listened attentively and examined the throne. Then she asked
me to go out front to see her entrance in costume. We agreed that
she would not use the throne until she had had more rehearsal.

Beautifully gowned, and wearing a jeweled crown, Marie
Dressier made a regal entrance. With proper ceremony, she walked
to the throne, sat down hard on the seat, and went through with
a crash! The jeweled crown flew one way and the Dressier feet
another. With a sick feeling in my heart, I jumped up on the stage.
A crowd of boys and girls were helping Miss Dressier to her feet.
To my anxious inquiry as to her injuries, she replied, "Don't be
silly! I'm not hurt. We aren't going to rehearse this again."

Marie Dressier was a real trouper, who knew all the tricks. But
if she hadn't understood the technique of falling, she might have
been seriously injured.

EXERCISES
1. Forward Fall

Place a pillow in front of you and face it. Now bend your knees
as though you were going to kneel. Bring your knees as close to the
pillow as you can without dropping on them. Do this until you
feel control. Now relax the leg muscles and drop onto the pillow
with your knees. This is the first step in learning a forward fall. To
complete it, the torso falls forward, and the right arm is raised in
the fall to protect the head, which falls on it. At first, break the
fall with the hands, and, when you are thoroughly familiar with
the technique, use the single arm. This fall should be practiced
carefully in each stage until you are absolutely sure of your ability
to perform it in a relaxed manner.

After you have mastered this fall from a standing position, you
must learn to walk into it. To make the fall appear natural is a
difficult task. A feint, for instance, might begin from a standing

78 BODY GRACE

position. But if you were shot, you would collapse, struggle a
few steps, and then fall to the ground. In other words, you would
not fall immediately on the same spot on which you were standing
when shot. Walk five or six steps or more, as the case may be. Now
place enough pillows to break the fall and walk slowly into the fall.
After a while you will be able to make a perfect fall without
injury. In order to make the perfect fall, every muscle must be
relaxed; the head must be protected by the arm.

2. Fall to the Right

Face front and place a pillow on the right side. You are not
facing the pillow. Now bend the knees and incline them to the
right. Aim for the pillow. Let your ankles roll the feet over. You
will be on the outside edge of the right foot and the inside edge of
the left. Clear this up before you proceed any further.

This fall gives the impression that you are falling on the right
side. This is true, to a certain extent, but you are breaking the fall
with the knees. The torso falls over on the right side with the
right arm extended to protect the head. A fall of this kind is most
difficult to execute. If made while in motion, with the body begin-
ning to collapse before the actual fall, it is very effective.

3. Fall to the Left

A fall to the left is done exactly as the fall to the right except
that the position is reversed. Place the pillow on the left side.
Incline the knees to the left and drop onto the pillow. Let the
ankles roll the feet over. You will be on the outside edge of the left
foot and the inside edge of the right. The left arm will come up to
protect the head as you fall.

Personality Development through Body Control

I would rather direct an actress who is not blessed with a
beautiful face (because good looks on the stage can be managed
through the proper use of make-up and costuming) but who knows
how to walk, how to use her hands, how to hold her head proudly

BODY GRACE 79

than the actress with the perfectly molded features. Beauty,
unaccompanied by body control, is often lost behind the footlights.

Body control is really an expression of individuality. If an
actress is awkward and fumbling in her movements, it may be a
sign that she hasn't yet realised her own potentialities. The
actress with the self-assured, graceful bearing is nine times out of
ten the one who has some inner reaction of what she wants to be.

When you see a mannequin in a shop, you know that when she
goes behind the curtain, her body movements will remain under
control. "That time I walked well," will be her conscious thought.
The fact that she is conscious of her body movements is revealed
through every gesture she makes. If your reaction to her is, "What
grace and muscular control she has!" you may be sure that she is
always graceful, that her body is a channel for a poised personality.

Beatrice Lillie is my idea of an extremely graceful woman. She is
so much at ease with herself that she is able, almost by lifting a
hand, to portray the stupidities and peculiarities of other women
who have no fundamental individuality.

The power Miss Lillie has over her audience comes not from
her good looks but from the radiation of a fully developed personal-
ity. There may be a bevy of beauties on the stage, but when Bea-
trice Lillie makes her nimble, self-assured entrance, she walks
away with the audience.

-Language of trie Jianas

*-* THEN Tallulah Bankhead, as a pompadoured belle of 1900,
VV went into rehearsals of her latest play, her first cry was,
"What shall I do with my hands?"

For Miss Bankhead, in a series of modern parts, had grown so
accustomed to tapping a cigarette with her long-nailed, vividly
painted fingers that, when faced with a character of a day when no
nice woman smoked or lacquered her nails, the star was nonplused.

Finally the director provided a glass of sherry (for holding
purposes) in one scene and a small fan in another, and rehearsals of
the play went on apace.

The question, "What shall I do with my hands?" is a common
one on any stage. In everyday life, we seldom give our hands a
thought, but as soon as we face the footlights we become painfully
conscious of them. They stiffen and clinch. They hang as dead
weights at our sides. Or they flutter aimlessly in the air as we
punctuate our speech with nervous, unfocused movements.

I remember a young man who played a police officer in a produc"
tion that I rehearsed many years ago. He, too, didn't know what to
do with his hands. He tried swinging the policeman's club, but
that didn't help; he was still painfully conscious of his two large
fists. Finally I told him to find the seams of his trousers and hold on
for dear life.

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS 81

Clutching the seams with both hands, the actor went through
his part with less and less awkwardness. Finally, he forgot about
his hands. Today this actor John Charles Thomas is one of the
best poised men on the concert and grand opera stage.

If an actor isn't in uniform, he may place one hand in his pocket
and the other at his lapel. You've all seen actors who keep their
stage poise by hooking their thumbs in their two front vest
pockets.

Frequently a small prop is used to cover an actor's temporary

embarrassment. A cigar, a piece of knitting, a cup of tea, a book

deftly used will so occupy the hands that there will be no evidence

. in the man or woman's behavior that for a moment at least his

hands have been useless, awkward appendages.

Many a famous actor has been identified by the prop he uses.
Will Rogers' rope is one; Charlie Chaplin's cane, W. C. Fields'
cigar are other welt-known embarrassment relievers. If we traced
the origin of the prop, we might find that it was first selected in
desperation to cover the actor's beginning confusion.

In a period production, an actor can handle a sword or toss a
long cape, lift his lace cuffs or doff a beplumed hat when he suffers
hand consciousness.

One of the most effective hand props ever used in a costume
play was the famous cat of Cardinal Richelieu in the Ziegfeld
production, "The Three Musketeers."

In the second act of the play, Richelieu (Reginald Owen) con-
versed with Lady de Winter (Vivienne Osborne) and D' Artagnan
(Dennis King) . On the knee of the wily cardinal rested a handsome
white cat (bought at a pet show for three hundred dollars by Mr.
Ziegfeld himself. "You can't fool an audience," was his apology for
the price. "They'd know a cardinal would have a good cat").

As Richelieu's suave voice carried a message of persuasion to
D' Artagnan, the audience was fascinated by the sight of the
cardinal's hand keeping time with his voice by stroking the cat.
When the moment came to ask Lady de Winter to take over the
task of persuading D' Artagnan to the cardinal's way of thinking,

82 THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

Reginald Owen literally let the words come out of his hands,
without speaking a syllable. With a graceful curve of his wrist, he
finished stroking the animal and carried the gesture toward Lady
de Winter in an order that was unmistakable in its significance.

Although this combination of hand prop and hand gesture belongs
in the actor's bag of trices, it is the precise and \nowing use of the
hands alone that the young actor must learn. The hands have a
language all their own. The sooner the newcomer to the stage teaches
his hands to spea\ that language the easier will it be for him to ma^e
the most of his opportunities.

Hands soft and curving extend the blessing of the church.
Hands harsh and angular form the military salute. Hands clenched
express power or fear. Caressing hands are kind and tender.
Hands need not be beautiful to be effective; some of the most beautiful
hands in the world aren't even well shaped. But they are expressive;
they have a story to tell.

An unusually fine piece of pantomime, expressed almost entirely
by the hands, was done by Helen Morgan as Julie in the original
production of "Show Boat." In directing later companies of the
play I was never able to get another actress to duplicate the move
with the same precision.

In the scene, Magnolia (Norma Terns) had come to a night
dub for a job. Julie, her old friend and star of the club, had just
been warned by the manager that if she didn't stop drinking, he
would let her go. Julie made an exit. Meanwhile Magnolia had
arrived and seated herself near the piano. She began to sing an old
Southern song taught to her by Julie. Attracted by the song, Julie
reentered, unseen by Magnolia, whose back was turned to her.
Julie, delighted, put out her hands as though to embrace Magnolia.
Then, as she realised that Magnolia was badly dressed and obvi-
ously in need of the job, she backed away, drawing her hands
inward. With one hand she groped for her hat and bag on the top
of the piano. Her other hand reached out once more, tenderly.
Then slowly she drew it to her mouth as though to stifle the
words. Hastily, Julie backed away.

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS ' 83

In this scene, without any spoken word, Helen Morgan con'
veyed joy, the hopelessness of her own condition, and the fact
that she was sacrificing her job. Later in the play she sent word to
the manager that she had gone on a drunken tear in order that
Magnolia might have her job.

Acting with the Hands

Stand before a mirror that reflects every hand movement and
watch the effects produced by extension and contraction of your
hands.

The hand is divided into three areas:

1. The palm (the emotive area)

2. The fingers (the mental area)

3. The thumb (the vital area)

The index finger, which shows force and judgment, falls
naturally into the realms of masculine usage. This is the finger
with which the stern parent, the judge, the schoolmaster points
at the errant child.

The little finger, on the other hand, belongs to the feminine
world. When it is crooked, it expresses cunning, subtlety,
delicacy, and mock refinement. When a male player interprets an
overbred and elegant character (such as Beau Brummell) he crooks
his finger in order to suggest the very qualities that might
ordinarily be found in a woman.

The two middle fingers are the implements of affection. When
we stroke or caress an object, these fingers are called into use.

The thumb is vital and indicates the will. When it is active, the
will is strong; when it is limp and inactive, the will is weak. With
the pressure of the thumb, we confirm the sincerity of a handshake.
"Thumbs down" from the days of the Romans has had a
meaning of its own: disapproval.

Hands may:

Accept (the palm upturned, the fingers open)

Reject (the palms down)

84 ' THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

Attitudes of the hands.

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS 85

Support (the palm up, the hand flat)

Caress (the palms curved to touch the object)

Surrender (the palms up, the fingers open)

Inquire (the fingers outstretched)

Detect (feel textures between the thumb and the fingers)

Deny (the palms down)

Indicate (the side of the hand)

Define (the hands move up and down with the sides toward
the floor)

Mold (the hands cupped)

Conceal (the hands brought in, the fingers closed)

Reveal (the hands extended, the fingers open)

Ignore (the back of the hand toward object)

Grasp (the palms down, the fingers closed)

A closed hand shows tightening emotions: fear, secrecy, cau-
tion, hardness, selfishness, stubbornness, resistance, determination.

A half'Open hand shows relaxation, carelessness, gentleness,
kindness, ease.

An open hand suggests expansion of thought; it may indicate
power, benevolence, leadership, surprise, welcome (greeting).

The hand is the agent of the mind; we grope in the dark; we
feel whether a texture is rough or smooth. The touch of a hot
plate blisters our fingers. A sharp cut from a glass warns us to drop
it.

By using his hands and fingers in gesture, the actor indicates his
relationship to his background (the chair, the table, the sofa);
his objective (where he is going); and the other characters (who is
who).

The degree of feeling expressed in a hand alters its form.

Hands are usually our first point of contact. A limp handshake is
a silent condemnation of the owner.

The actress who wants her hands to create a mood, background,
character, or a racial illusion will unobstrusively pose her hands
when she is talking or listening in a scene so that they clearly
serve her purpose.

86 ' THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

When you use your hands, lead with the wrist. Whether point-
ing upward or downward, make your wrist carry your hands.
When your wrist is stiff, your hands seem heavy and ugly.

Race

Hands tell more about racial characteristics than any
other part of the human body. The actor is quick to catch
this method of depicting faultlessly the instincts and
peculiarities of his part.

A native of China carries his hands in front of him, semiclasped
about chest height. This is because the Chinese wear the wide
mandarin sleeves. Since he is a slow, deep thinker, a Chinaman's
gesture is never broad.

The Italian brings his elbows in toward the body, hands in
front with palms up and fingers curled and spread. As he gestures
the wrists are kept flexible.

The Frenchman uses the shoulder more freely than the Italian.
His hand gestures are not quite so broad.

Fast-speaking Latin races gesture more broadly and frequently
than such slow-speaking races as Swedes, Scotch, and English.

Mood

As our moods change, so do the movements of our hands.
Fidgety hands, for instance, betray nervousness and lack of poise.
"Handkerchief actress," I call the woman who twists and unrolls
her kerchief until at the end of the scene the bit of linen is a limp
rag.

When our nerves are out of control, we use our hands to rub the
ear, massage the chin, scratch the head, pull at the collar. We
stroke the cheek and run fingers through the hair. We interlace our
hands; we rub the palms together; we massage the wrists. Some
of us crack knuckles. There's a drumming on a convenient table
by the unpoised actor. Two hands are held together, church and
steeple fashion, finger tips meeting, by the nervously uncontrolled.

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS 87

When we are tired, we pass our hands across our brows. We
try to hide a yawn. We prop up our heads. We cover our faces
with our two hands and massage our closed eyelids.

A person in despair wrings his hands, clenches his fists, clasps
his hands tightly.

A mother with her child uses gentle, caressive gestures, soft and
curving.

A happy person claps his hands.

In one of her most successful roles in recent years, Katharine
Cornell, alone on the stage, acts a three'minute drama with her
hands. She is the wife in a triangle situation. Her husband has left
with the other woman. As the door closes on him, she lifts her
hands in helpless questioning of fate. Next she clenches her fists in
agony. Later, she slowly taps her fingers on her hand (thought);
lifts and clasps them together to show that she has found an idea.
She repeats the tapping finger (thought) as she develops the idea.
Lastly, she rubs her hands together with deep and intense satis-
faction. The situation is saved.

All this was straight acting with the hands and not one word
was spoken. Is it any wonder that the audience burst into noisy
applause?

Background

Not long ago a foreign actress portrayed the part of a slavey.
She used a scrubbing brush with the skill of familiarity. In her
hands the brush was not a prop but something that was used for a
purpose. When the actress wiped her wet hands on her apron, she
made a convincing gesture. She was a slavey; and her hands con'
firmed this.

A laborer's hands are usually broad, calloused, with nails
broken and dirty. A washwoman's hands are red, wrinkled, and
often blistered.

People who work with their hands are always deft and accurate
in their movements. Surgeons, musicians, pri2 fighters, hair'

88 ' THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

dressers, typists all make their hands move in harmony with the
thoughts that direct them.

Character

Actors who create a wide variety of characters for diversified
plays must speak with their hands.

A hick character snaps his suspenders. A sheriff character or
comedy detective hooks his thumbs in his vest. A prise fighter
carries a small rubber ball to strengthen the muscles in his hand. A
greedy character such as Uriah Heep wrings his hands in an
unctuous gesture.

A prim old maid keeps her hands tightly clasped.

Zasu Pitts became famous because of her fluttering gestures of
helplessness.

Duse's hands, which were perhaps the most famous in theatrical
history, were once described as "never still and yet not restless,
with the power of transmitting a physical quality even to her
clothes."

Too many actresses forget to age their hands in playing. In
"Bitter Sweet," Norma Terris was called upon to play a young girl
in the beginning and a woman of seventy in the end. She used her
hands perfectly. As the young girl, Miss Terris let her hands flop
from the wrists in a giddy, youthful manner. This gesture brought
a laugh from the audience.

Helen Hayes made her first entrance in "Victoria Regina" as the
eighteen-yearold queen, holding her hands to her shawl, hastily
thrown over her nightgown. And in the end, as the aged queen,
she allowed her hands to clasp the arms of the wheel chair.

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

89

FIG. 1. (photographs by Richardson, St. Louis.)

EXERCISES FOR TRAINING THE HANDS

A. Let the hands hang loosely from the wrists, the knuckles up
and the fingers open. Now shake or dangle them up and down
on the hinge of the wrist as if they were rubber. The movement is
similar to one you would use in shaking out a tablecloth. This
exercise is for flexibility and relaxation (Fig. 1).

90 THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

FIG. 2.

B. Raise the arms slowly in front to shoulder height. Let the
wrists lead, the hands hung limp with the fingers pointing to the
floor, as in Fig. 2. Near the completion of the upward move bring
the hands up so that the palms face away from you and the finger
tips are upraised as in Fig. 3.

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

91

FIG. 3.

C. The wrists begin the movement down, the palms are still
away from you, the finger tips upraised, as in Fig. 3. At the end
of the movement, the hands relax and resume the limp position
from which they started, as in Fig. 2. This should be an easy,
flowing movement, not jerky.

92 THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

FIG. 4.

The exercise illustrated in Figs. 4 and 5 is the
simple groundwor\ for all the gestures that follow.

Diligent practice not only will give control but will
the hands and fingers flexible.

D. Close the hands in front of you, the palms up, as in Fig. 4.
Now open them slowly. Keep the fingers close together. Open

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS ' 93

FIG. 5.

Some people are unable to straighten their fingers
to full length. By continuous practice this exercise
will enable the student to gain such muscular control
that he may use each finger separately and inde-
pendently if he so wishes.

and close them. Make the fingers flatten out straight to their full
length when you open the hands, as in Fig. 5.

94 THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

FIG. 6.

Figures 6, 7, and 8 illustrate the beginning, middle,
and finish of the gesture described in Exercise E. At
all times practice these moves slowly. The effect
should be that of a smooth unfolding of the fingers.
It should never "be jerky.

E. Begin with the hands closed, the knuckles up, as in Fig. 6.
Turn the hands over. They should begin to open as you start to
turn the wrist, as in Fig. 7, and finish opening as the move is
completed. Straighten the fingers full length and keep them close
together.

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS ' 95

FiG. 7.

96

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

FlG. 9.

The student may modify this gesture, but must
always remember to \ee> the forefinger straight.
Always try to avoid the effect of stiffness or rigidity
in forming a gesture.

F. Begin with the hands closed, the palms down. Turn the
hands over and, as you do, open them, as in Exercise E. Instead
of flattening out the fingers, as in Fig. 8, finish with the forefinger
straight out, as in Fig. 9. The other three fingers are crooked up,
the little finger a little more than the other two.

Before going on with the next exercise, practice these five until
you are proficient.

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS " 97

FlG. 10.

Figure 10 shows the completion of the gesture de-
scribed in Exercise E.

Let this gesture begin with the shoulders and flow
smoothly to the finger tips.

G. Drop the arms naturally in front of you at ease. Pick them
up and extend them arms' length before you. As you do this, join
Exercise E with it. When the arms are extended full length, don't
spread them more than eight inches apart. As you pick up your
arms, they will naturally pass your stomach. With few exceptions
all gestures start this way (Fig. 10).

98 ' THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

*.<\

FIG. 11.

FIG. 12.

H. Drop the arms naturally in front of you at ease. Pick them
up and extend them before you at arms' length. As you do, join
Exercise F with it (Fig. 11). For a softer gesture the index finger
may be slightly curved, as in Fig. 12.

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

99

FIG. 13.

FIG. 14.

I. Drop the arms naturally in front of you at ease. Slowly
extend them in front of you, the hands closed, the palms down. As
you raise the arms, join Exercise E with the movement, turning the
hands over and extending the fingers, keeping them close together.
Then bring the arms around to the sides, shoulder height. Finish
as in Fig. 13. Repeating this gesture, combine it with Exercise F.
Finish as in Fig. 14. Remember your hands are flesh and blood, not
sticks. Keep them limber.

100 ' THE LANGUAG.E OF THE HANDS

FIG. 15.

JT. With the arms at ease in front of you, begin with Exercise G
and go through all the previous exercises with the right hand.
Then the left. Each gesture must be made separate and complete.
When you finish each gesture, hold it for a second, drop the arm to
first position, and begin the next.

K. With the arms at ease in front of you, alternate the arms
and the hands. Begin with Exercise G and go through all the
previous exercises, first the right and then the left. Make each
gesture separate and complete. When you finish, drop the arm to
die first position. Try to follow each gesture with your eyes and
head.

L. With the arms at ease in front of you, take a short forward
step with the right foot. At the same time, extend your right hand
before you and do Exercise E, as in Figs. 6, 7 9 8. The weight of
your body must be on the foot you step forward on. Finish the
gesture. Hold the pose for a second; then drop the arm and step
back into the first position.

M. Repeat Exercise L. This time use the left hand and the left
foot.

>f. With the arms at ease in front of you, take a short forward
step with the left foot. At the same time, do Exercise F with the
left hand, as in Figs. 6, 7, 9.

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS 101

0. Repeat Exercise >(, this time using the right hand and the
right foot.

P. With the arms at ease in front of you, take a short step to the
right side. Put the weight of the body on the right foot. Turn
slightly to the right as you do this. At the same time, use the right
hand and complete the E gesture. Hold the pose for a second. Drop
the arm and step back into first position. Now do the same gesture
with Exercise F.

^. Repeat Exercise P s this time stepping to the left side and
using the left hand.

NOTE: As you step forward, try to coordinate the hands, the
arms, the eyes, and the head into one complete move. All should
begin at the same time and finish together in perfect rhythm.

Never make a gesture with the hands unless it means something.
The same advice applies to every movement or piece of stage
business used. Why do I say, keep the fingers close together when
you are doing Exercise E? Just try the exercise with the fingers
open. Notice how they lose all character and form. This also
applies to Exercise D. Convince yourself before you continue
further.

The rule of keeping the fingers close together is seldom broken.
But it can be broken. If you held up your two hands in fright,
your fingers would separate a little.

R. In Exercises G and H, don't spread the arms more than eight
inches apart when they are extended before you. In this position
the arms express force, directness. But keeping the arms eight
inches apart is not a set rule. These two gestures can be spread to
any distance you may see fit to use. The distance of the arms varies
according to mood and meaning. If the arms are spread about two
feet apart, palms up, they may suggest welcome, invitation, plead'
ing. The same gesture, palms down, may be used by an orator for
emphasis, or to still a crowd. Wide^flung, with palms up, the
arms would express supplication.

102

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

FlG. 16.

FIG. 17.

S. In Fig. 16, the forefinger is straight out, with the thumb
resting on the second finger. You can use this gesture to point to an
object or person.

T, You may use the same gesture in conversation to emphasis
a point or to state a fact, as in Fig. 17.

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS 103

FlG. 18,

U. If you point to the right, use your right hand. The same
direction applies to pointing with your left hand. Never use the
right hand to point to the left, because it would be an awkward
move yet the rule can be broken. By placing your right arm
across your stomach, you could point and refer to something on
your left, as in Fig. 18.

V. On giving a command or on ordering someone to leave the
room, you point to the door through which you wish him to leave

104 THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS

FlG. 19.

FIG. 20.

THE LANGUAGE OF THE HANDS ' 105

with a gesture that has force and character. Clench your hand,
closing the thumb around the fingers. Keep the forefinger straight.
Observe the note of authority in this gesture. It has force (Fig. 19).

W. Hold up the two hands before you, the palms away from
you. Keep the fingers together, as in Fig. 20.

Imagine that you are trying to prevent someone from entering
the room. Make the gesture and say, "Stop!" Suit the gesture to
the word.

Imagine that your lover is leaving after a quarrel. Make the
same gesture. Say, "Please, darling, wait!" Suit the action to the
word. What I am trying to illustrate is this : All gestures are inter-
changeable. Each can be used to cover several different moods or
situations. Your intelligence will give you the understanding
necessary to make artistic use of them all.

Use the same gesture and indicate fright. This time break the
rule concerning your fingers. Open them up a bit.

In animated conversation, the Latin races use their hands
effectively. When they wish to emphasis a point or when they
are stating a fact, the hands turn in, the thumbs out, all the fingers
crooked up. They seem to shake the hands up and down.

The value of the hands in developing acting technique cannot
be overestimated. In almost every part, from the handclap of
childhood to the feeble clasp of old age, character effect can be
broadened and intensified and made individual by the use of the
hands.

Luther Adler, who pkyed Golden Boy in Clifford Odets"
play of that name, was a violinist and prise fighter. Carefully
preserving his hands for the first art, he was forced to use them
dangerously for the second. No one who saw the play will ever
forget Mr. Adler's acting, whether he was fondling his violin,
rubbing his fingers to keep them soft and supple, or doubling his
fists before going into the ring. The effect showed years of care'
fully planned hand technique, brought into use in a series of
superbly acted scenes.

Remember your hands, then, from the first handclasp in the
opening scene to the farewell wave in the climax.

2

yes

A A means of influencing the mental state of his audience, the
eye has no equal among the actor's physical instruments. It
is more than a physical instrument; it is the channel through which
the actor's inmost thoughts are permitted to pass.

The magnetic stage personality, when emotionally aroused and
mentally alert, is able to send out a steady flow of dramatic power
from the eyes. This power is felt by those who come within the
range of the eye concentration.

In instances where the actor's will has been trained to a high
degree and his eyes coordinated with his will, his thought
processes can be so thoroughly revealed by an intense and dramatic
glance that a pronounced physical reaction may be felt by his
audience.

"He fixed her with his eyes." So goes the saying well known to
theater audiences of bygone days as well as to readers of melo'
dramatic fiction. The source of the expression must have been
Trilby, who, glued to the spot by the burning glance of her
mentor, Svengali, sang her most thrilling notes.

Even in these days, the eye business, called "the Svengali
touch," is a smooth blending of practical psychology and artistic
worth. No director can deny that the point of contact established
between two players by use of the fixed glance is a very effective
and powerful piece of stage direction. It sets the mood of the

THE EYES 107

scene; it determines the use of stage locations; it brings into play
one of the actor's most valuable features: his eyes.

In the second act of "Show Boat," the Svengali touch was used
with telling effect.

Captain Andy (Charles Winninger), a visitor at the Trocadero
Cafe, sees his daughter Magnolia (Norma Terns), a cafe singer, for
the first time in many years. When Magnolia's song is announced,
she is greeted by boos and catcalls from the audience. Nervous and
frightened, the girl starts to sing. There are more boos. Indig-
nantly, Captain Andy tries to still the crowd. He stands by the
table and calls Magnolia's name. When he catches his daughter's
eye, he starts to direct her, just as he had always done on the show
boat. A point of contact through the eyes is made, Captain Andy
staring straight ahead, Magnolia fixing her eyes on her father as
though in a trance. Down off the stage, she walks toward Captain
Andy, singing all the while. As her confidence mounts, her voice
soars to a magnificent climax.

At no time in the scene did Miss Terns take her eyes off Mr.
Winninger's. Had she done so, the point of contact would have
been broken and the strength of the scene correspondingly
weakened.

What Do Your Eyes Say?

The eyes are our mental or intellectual barometers. David
Belasco once said he could tell more about a new actress by ten
minutes of watching her eyes than by a full hour of listening to her
talk. Unless we close them or turn them away, our eyes reveal us
for what we are.

The importance of the eye in acting is brought home when you
consider that thought first dawns in the eye glance. Thinking alone
will not put expression into the eye (for thought can often be un-
communicative) but thinking combined with intense feeling can
make the eyes radiate warmth, flash with hatred, gleam with
tenderness. They can be furtive or candid, feverish or steady, kind
or bitter, as they turn from one mood to another.

108 THE EYES

The eye is the actor's subtlest tool, and if he knows how to use it,
he can become the master of all the nuances of expression. The secret
remains his own, too. No one can quite put a finger on how he gets
his effect.

When Charles Laughton played Edward Barrett in "The
Barretts of Wimpole Street," it was suggested that it might be
well to tone down his performance of the bigoted, feverish old
man. "Don't worry," Laughton assured his advisers, "I defy any-
one to censor a gleam of the eye."

Holding an Audience with the Eyes

In order to capture and hold an audience's attention, every eye
move made by the cast members must be positive. If a player
shifts his eyes or makes a false move with them, he loses his
audience. People who are watching a play can concentrate on only
one point at a time; any independent move will lead them astray.
By directing his gase at the character he is speaking to, the actor
shows the audience just where they should be looking. Actually,
with his own eyes, the player focuses the vision of the audience.

Listening with the Eyes

By sitting still and keeping his gaz on the central scene or
figure in a play, an actor on the side lines can increase the interest
of the audience in that scene.

EXAMPLE

In "Abe Lincoln in Illinois," Abraham Lincoln (Raymond
Massey) sat on the side lines and listened to the Stephen Douglas
debate a long speech without interruption.

The picture of Mr. Lincoln, a thoughtful, tense listener, eyes
turned toward the speaker with interest and respect, encouraged
the audience to be equally interested in what Stephen Douglas had
to say.

If, on the other hand, Mr. Massey had looked around, inspected
his nails, stared at the wings, or otherwise indicated indifference,

THE EYES ' 109

he might have created a mood of indifference on the other side of
the footlights.

Coughing, flourishing a handkerchief, fanning oneself with a
hat or paper, noisily turning over the pages of a book, lighting a
cigarette these and any number of other insignificant move-
ments of an actor merely listening on the side lines, if made at
the wrong moment, will kill the lines of the other players.

An ingenue, on bad terms with the star of the play an older
woman had a scene in which she and the star drank cocktails.
After the scene the ingenue made an exit, leaving the stage free
for the star to play her big scene. Before leaving the stage, the
ingenue purposely left her glass tottering precariously on the rim
of her chair instead of placing it on the table.

The audience, fascinated, waited for the glass to fall. Whenever
the star went near the chair, everyone stared and listened for the
sound of splintered glass. The greatest acting in the world couldn't
overcome the fascination of that small piece of tottering glassware !

An Actor Never Looks at the Audience

A successful vaudeville "single" was once engaged to play the
lead in a legitimate play. The part called for a glib young man about
town, and the actor fitted it like a glove.

Strange to say, things didn't go very well from the start. The
actor met all the physical requirements; he was hard- working and
intelligent and eager to please. But by the end of the week, the
director had to admit that he was up against an impossible
situation.

For fifteen years, this vaudeville actor had been holding his
audience spellbound for twenty minutes by standing in one spot
and fixing his eyes on the audience and wording straight at them.
Sometimes he even singled out one person in the audience and
worked to him, pointing all his gags in his direction. In other words,
he established a relationship between himself and the audience.

In the legitimate play, the actor played the part of a young man
who, in a ticklish spot in a foreign country, surrounded by hostile
people, parried for time until help could come. In handling the

110 THE EYES

part, not only did the performer revert to the vaudeville technique
of addressing his lines to the audience (thus destroying the
dramatic illusion) but he also tried to fix his eyes on every char-
acter on the stage (there were over sixty). As a result, he looked
as though his head were on a pivot. By shifting his head and eyes,
he dissipated his power. What he didn't know was that not only
should the actor never look directly into the audience, but
he must direct his speech to the characters on the stage
one at a time and look at the character and hold him
with his eyes!

Despite his years of experience in playing before an audience,
the former vaudeville actor, when confronted by this simple stage
mechanic, was a beginner.

Art of Paying Attention

In real life when someone speaks to us, we lift our eyes and ga?e
at the speaker, giving him our full attention. It is a mark of
courtesy. On the stage the actor goes through the same eye move-
ment, but he does not continue to stare at the other actor for the
duration of the speech.

EXAMPLE

When listening to a long speech, the actor may concentrate the
eyes on the speaker, then find a place where the speech affects him,
and slowly turn front, focusing his eyes above the audience but not
on them. He will then be in a position to give full expression to
whatever his facial or body reaction may be. At the end of the
speech, where he has a line in reply, he may turn back to the
speaker.

This is a suggestion merely. It will not fit every situation, but it
will help you to understand one of the most difficult pieces of
business for a beginner.

Keep your head still. Practice the habit of a direct, steady look.
Never gaze at the ceiling or down at the floor when you are speak-
ing unless the part calls for such action.

THE EYES ' 111

This same action may be followed if the actor has an unusually
long speech to deliver and he wants to break it. Begin the first
part of the speech facing the listener. Then, while you are speak-
ing, with a slow, steady movement, turn your head toward the
audience. In this way the audience can get full value of your
expression. Now focus your eyes on a spot just under the balcony
and over the heads of the audience. Remember, as you turn, to
extend the continuity of the dialogue. As the speech nears its end,
turn back slowly so that, when you finish, you are again facing
your companion.

EXAMPLES
Scene from "Boy Meets Girl," by Sam and Bella Spewac\ l

Who could forget that Tristan-and-Isolde glance between
Susie, the studio commissary waitress, and the young extra, Rod-
ney, as they gase into each other's eyes? Susie, in a love-at'first-
sight dase, starts to tell the boy about herself. Rodney can't quite
follow her story.

SUSIE

The minute I found out about Happy I said to myself: Fm going to be
very good and very sincere, because then Happy will be very good and
sincere.

RODNEY
Tm afraid I can't quite follow. . . .

SUSIE
(Sighing) Nobody does. . . .

RODNEY

(Staring at Susie in fascination) Eh? Oh, yes . . . as I was saying . . .
What was I saying?

SUSIE

(Looking deeply into his eyes and feeling strangely stirred) Have some
mustard?

1 "Boy Meets Girl," by Sam and Bella Spewack. Reprinted by courtesy of Random
House.

112 ' THE EYES

Scene from "The Beloved Rogue," by Lawrence Schwab and Lester

O'Keefe

In this Viennese operetta, which I directed for Lawrence
Schwab, Marianna, a beautiful young widow, receives a visit from
a handsome count at her castle. From the moment Marianna sees
the count, she is fascinated, although she is unaware of his real
identity. As she comes down the stairs, she keeps her eyes upon
him.

MARIANNA

After all ... I really should know who it is I am talking to.

STRANGER (the count)
One who is happy to at last see the famous Venus in Silk.

MARIANNA

My portrait? It's there on the stairway. (The stranger continues to
stare at Marianna) But you're not looking at it I

STRANGER

(Still staring deeply at her) The picture is a masterpiece on the part of
the painter . . . but the original is a masterpiece of nature.

Later in the same play, the count, who is still unknown to
Marianna, says, looking at her, "Who could solve the riddle of
those eyes?"

MARIANNA

Perhaps my fiance . . . when he comes!

STRANGER

We have a saying in our family: "A marriage is pleasing in heaven
only when the bride is in love."

MARIANNA

And what makes you think Fro. not?

STRANGER

Your eyes !

THE EYES ' 113

Scene from "Smilin Through" by Allan Langdon Martin 1

Kathleen (Jane Cowl), afraid her uncle will find her sweetheart
visiting her in the garden, says :

KATHLEEN

Whatll I do if he comes out?

KENNETH

(Grins) Pretend you don't see me.

KATHLEEN

(Giggles and sits down on the bench beside him} Uncle John knows I've
good eyesight . . . where you Ye concerned.

KENNETH

(Eagerly) Kathleen . . . have you?

KATHLEEN

(Reminding him of the distance between them) Well, Tm kind of near*
sighted at that.

KENNETH

(Moves closer) Is that better? Can you see me now? (He loo\s straight
into her eyes)

Scene from "Pelleas and Melisande^" by Maurice Maeterlindf

PELLEAS

I did not know thou wert so beautiful 1 . ... I have never seenany
thing so beautiful before thee. ... I was full of unrest; I sought
throughout the country . . . and I found not beauty. . . . And now
I have found thee 1 1 have found theel I do not think there could be on
earth a fairer woman! Where art thou? ... I no longer hear thee
breathe. . . .

MELISANDE

Because I look on thee. . . .

1 **Stni1jTV Through," by Allan Langdon Martin. Copyright, 1924, by Samuel French.
All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Samuel French.

2 "From "Pelleas and Melisande," by Maurice Maeterlinck. Used by permission of
Dodd, Mead 6?* Company, Inc., and George Allen & Unwin, Ltd.

114 ' THE EYES
PELLEAS

Why doest thou look so gravely on me? We are already in the shadow.
. . . It is too dark under this tree. Come into the light. We cannot see
how happy we are. Come, come, so little time remains to us. . . .

MELISANDE

No, no; let us stay here. ... I am nearer thee in the dark. . . .

PELLEAS

Where are thine eyes? Thou art not going to fly me? Thou dost not
think of me just now.

MELISANDE

Oh, yes; oh, yes; I only think of thee. . . .

PELLEAS

Thou wert looking elsewhere. . . .

MELISANDE

I saw thee elsewhere. . . .

The Eye Discovers

The act of looking at an object as though for the first time is a
difficult one for the actor, especially after a long run of a play.
Although he knows exactly where every object is located and just
what is going to happen, his face must not reveal his knowledge. If
it does, his playing loses its freshness.

For instance, if an actor knows he is to receive a letter in the
second act telling him that he has won a sweepstake fortune, he
waits until he actually reads the letter before he registers
excitement.

EXAMPLES

Scene from "Show Boat" by Oscar Hammer stein, 2nd, and Jerome

Kern

Against Parthy^s wishes, Julie is secretly meeting Magnolia in
the kitchen of the show boat. She enters breathlessly.

THE EYES * 115
JULIE

I had a hard time getting here. ... I just missed bein" caught by
Parthy. (Turning, she discovers a fresh pan of biscuits) Oh! Look at
Parthy's biscuits!

QUEENIE (the colored mammy)

Now look here, Miss Julie. Dinner'll be ready in five minutes.

JULIE

Oh, let me take a bite. (She ta\es one and bites into it) Joe'll help you
make some more.

Scene from "First Lady," by Katherine Dayton and George S.

Kaufman 1

In "First Lady," Lucy Wayne (Jane Cowl), one of the most
brilliant and glamorous women in Washington, makes a sweeping
entrance. She has been spending the afternoon at the Senate and
is highly excited. As she bursts into the drawing room of her
home, Lucy says:

Oh, how lovely everything looks! (To the butler) How nice, Charles!
The table looks beautiful! You've arranged everything divinely. (To
her niece) Emmy, child, you look charming! Thanks, Charles, I never saw
so many flowers. Looks like a gangster's funeral.

Although every night before she made her first entrance, she
knew exactly how the room was going to look, Miss Cowl had to
project the feeling of rush, excitement, vitality, and surprise at the
appearance of the room. Needless to say, she did it superbly!

Arrested Action

Arrested action means interrupted action, and much of the suc-
cess of such action depends upon the eyes. Usually the move comes
in a scene in which a player is taken by surprise. For instance, if
you were intensely interested in a game of cards and suddenly
heard a loud crash in the street, you would look up, startled. Your

1 "First Lady," by Katherine Dayton and George S. Kaufman. Reprinted by courtesy
of Random House.

116 THE EYES

body would be rigid, your hand would continue to clutch your
cards, but the whole effect of suspense would be achieved by
the expression of the eyes. Then, when you knew the noise was
caused by a milk bottle falling onto the pavement, you would
relax and continue your card game.

EXAMPLES

A striking example of arrested action occurs in "The Barretts of
Wimpole Street/' After dinner, with the entire family gathered in
Eliizabeth's bed-sitting-room, she announces they must leave soon,
since Robert Browning is coming to call. Brother Henry adds
another piece of exciting news their father is going away for a
few days. Henrietta, EL^abeth's younger sister, is so overjoyed
that she begins to dance a polka. Her mood infects the others, and
they joyously start to keep time to her dancing, clapping their
hands. Unexpectedly Edward Barrett enters the room. Everyone
stops dead and stares at him.

Scene from "Idiot's Delight" by Robert E. Sherwood 1

In the third act of "Idiot's Delight," Irene (Lynn Fontanne) tells
Harry (Alfred Lunt) what she will wear in their mind-reading act.

IRENE

I shall wear a black velvet dress . . . very plain ... my skin
ivory white. I must have something to hold. One white flower. No! A
little white . . . (she listens to the scream of a siren warning of an air
raid) What's that?

HARRY

Sounds like a fire!

Suspended Action

In the second act of "The Barretts of Wimpole Street" is a
fine example of suspended action.

Elizabeth Barrett (Katharine Cornell) is in her room reading a
volume of Browning. In one hand is the book, in the other a glass

1 ""Idiot's Delight," by Robert E. Sherwood, Charles Scribner's Sons.

THE EYES ' 117

containing medicine. So deeply absorbed is she that her other hand,
raising the glass of medicine, remains poised in mid-air as she
continues her reading.

Range of Vision

Self -centered people invariably keep their eyes on themselves:
they literally do not see very far beyond their own noses. The
range of their vision is limited to their own persons.

The self-centered man flicks imaginary dust or lint from his suit.
He tugs with his cuff links, studies his wrist watch, stares at his
shoes, looks down at his tie, sees that his handkerchief in his
breast pocket is folded just so.

The self-centered girl is a nail inspector. She smoothes her dress,
produces a compact and goes to work. Lipstick, powder, rouge she
applies, even though everyone in the restaurant or subway be
watching. She pats her hair, admires her slippers, fusses with her
gloves and handbag.

The range of an actor's thought can be indicated by the range
of his vision.

EXAMPLES

Scene from "Come Out of the Kitchen" by A. E. Thomas 1

In "Come Out of the Kitchen," when Burton Crane, the
Northerner, arrives to take possession of the house he has rented
from Olivia Dangerfield (Ruth Chatterton), he says to Mr. Weeks,
the agent:

Awfully good of you, Mr. Weeks, to welcome me in person. (Ta\es
off coat and drops it on a chair left of center door) I suppose this is the
drawing room. (He loo\s around the room) Ah, yes, the usual family
portrait, I see. (He pic^s up a miniature) Oh, I say, this is delightful.
(Discovery)

WEEKS

Yes, it's a sort of heirloom.

1 "Come Out of the Kitchen/ 1 by A. E. Thomas. Copyright, 1921, by A. E. Thomas.
All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Samuel French.

118 ' THE EYES
CRANE

(Loo\s about and crosses to chair left of table right center) Rather nice
furniture.

WEEKS

Yes, it's all very old. (Crosses to chair left of table left center}

CRANE
I believe you. Quite sure it's safe to sit on?

Scene from "First Lady" by Katherine Dayton and George S.

Kaufman 1

A portrait also plays an important part as a point of interest in
the play, "First Lady." It is a likeness of Lucy Chase Wayne's
grandfather, President Chase.

Ann, a visitor, in looking about the living room of Lucy Wayne,
says there are only three rooms in Washington that have real
American atmosphere.

MRS. IVES

(Looking up at the portrait) It's the portrait of old President Chase.
Somehow he's still presiding. . . .

ANN

Well, that's part of it, of course. (Her e^es linger on the painting for a
moment) You know, Mrs. Wayne has that same look around the eyes,
hasn't she? Or rather behind the eyes. But of course she gets her beauty
from her mother. That heavenly portrait in the drawing room.

Scene from "Ethan Frome," by Owen and Donald Davis*

ETHAN

There's lots of stars out tonight though . . . ain't there?

1 "First Lady," by Katherine Dayton and George S. Kaufman. Reprinted by courtesy
of Random House.

2 "Ethan Frome." by Owen and Donald Davis, Charles Scribner's Sons.

THE EYES ' 119
MATTIE

Ain't there just? (She stands beside him, gazing up) Did you ever
try to count 'em at all? . . . Oh, my ... don't it seem like there's
most a million of them?

ETHAN
A'yeah. . . . There's more'n that,

MATTIE
(Amazed at his knowledge) What do you know?

ETHAN

A-yeah. (He points eagerly) See that one . . . that big fellow there to
the right . . . see? ... I think they call him Aldebaron ... or some
such.

MATTIE

(Incredulous Z?) They do!

ETHAN

(Rapidly) And that bright one . . . that's Orion. . . . And that
bunch of little ones . . . no, over there . . . see? Swarming about there?

MATTEE

I see! Ain't they, though . . . just like a little flock of bees'. (She
glances at him and then up at the s^y again) Oh, dear! Don't it look like
it was all painted?

Eyes uplifted suggest a religious mood, real or affected. In
"Idiot's Delight," Weber, the munitions maker, says to Irene:

Yes, my dear. You know a great deal. But don't forget to do
honor to Him ... up there . . . who put fear into man. I am but
the humble instrument of His Divine Will.

IRENE

(Loo^s upward) Yes . . . that's quite true. We don't do half enough
justice to Him. Poor, lonely old soul. Sitting up in Heaven, with nothing
to do but play solitaire. Poor, dear God. Playing Idiot's Delight. The
game that never means anything, and never ends.

120 THE EYES

In "Reunion in Vienna," a sophisticated love scene was ex-
pressed through the eyes of Alfred Lunt, the gay archduke who
persuaded his former sweetheart (now a happily married woman)
to meet him at Frau Sacher's. As she stands, serene and lovely as a
goddess in a beautiful white evening gown, the archduke walks
around her slowly, adoring her with his eyes. "How good of you
to preserve your figure against the day of my return," he says at
last.

Use of Eyes in Comedy

All comedians use their eyes to get comedy effects, and some,
in so doing, have developed distinctive styles. The one thing you
remember about their performance is the way they use their eyes.

There are Eddie Cantor's popeyes, the way he lifts his brows
and rolls his eyes. And Ed Wynn's eyes, with their heavy dark
brows and expression of perpetual surprise. The more bewildered
the Wynn stare, the more sharply suspended are his brows.
Jimmy Savo, the pantomimist, like Harry Langdon, uses his eyes
sadly and wistfully. To add to his characterization of a pulled
boob, Harold Lloyd adopted glassless spectacles.

In a comedy scene between two people, the eyes of one actor
look at one object and describe it, while the eyes of the second actor
are focused on a second object. To each point of description by the
first actor, the second agrees.

EXAMPLE
Two men are seated on the beach.

FIRST MAN

(Looking at a beautiful boat in the water) Gosh! She's a beauty. . . .
Look at those graceful lines ... a real thoroughbred.

SECOND MAN

(Gazing admiringly at a lovely girl near by) She certainly is I

FIRST MAN

Fd like to spend the rest of my life with her traveling to faroff places
. . . just the two of us.

THE EYES ' 121
SECOND MAN

(Still gazing at the girl) You've got my idea exactly.

FIRST MAN

(Turning to second man) Say . . . what's to stop us from chipping
together and buying her?

SECOND MAN

(Pulling his gaze from the girl . . . looking startled) Huh?

FIRST MAN

(Sees girl for the first time) Oh ... I seel

Exit with the Eyes

The eyes are the point of focus in many stage exits, whether
the effect be comic or tragic.

EXAMPLES

1 . The shy awkward servant, in withdrawing from his mistress,
backs off apologetically toward the door, eyes still riveted upon her.
On his way he manages to bump clumsily into every piece of
furniture in his wake.

2. The humble courtier in the presence of his sovereign respect-
fully backs away, head bent, eyes focused on the sovereign.

3. The lover, who has to tear himself from the beloved, backs
away, filling his eyes with every detail of her beauty, to be hoarded
in his memory. The effect of such a scene is that of two pairs of
eyes binding a man and woman together, and, as they part,
straining almost to the breaking point.

4. When the police drag away the criminal, he looks back,
glares, and shouts back at the informer who tipped off the police,
Til be back! Pll get even with you for this!"

5. The first separation of a mother and child. The mother
watches until long after the train or automobile carries the child
out of sight. In the pky, "Turn to the Right," this situation was
reversed. The mother waited at the window every night, watch-
ing for the return of her son.

122 THE EYES

Eyebrows

Whether they be as thin and plucked as Marlene Dietrich's
or thick and bristling as Lionel Barrymore's, the eyebrows are an
important feature in contributing to a variety of facial expressions.
Every new actor must learn how to use his brows effectively
without becoming an ''eyebrow actor/' A facile eyebrow is one
thing; an uncontrolled one is another.

The raised eyebrow shows anger, surprise, shock, disapproval,
disdain, amusement, hurt feelings, fear, boredom.

When one brow is raised and the other drawn down the effect is
that of quizaical humor.

The brows drawn in two oblique angles (raised high at the
bridge of the nose and drawn down at the outer corners) give the
effect of supplication, pleading, pain.

The brows contracted a little in a frown express concentration,
annoyance, deep thought.

The brows compressed strongly in a scowl express intense
anger and hatred.

Eye Exercises

Study the eyes in a mirror. Open and close the lids slowly and
watch how the eyes function. Examine the pupil (the round dark
spot in the center of the eyeball), and the iris (the circle that sur-
rounds the pupil)., which may be brown, blue, gray, or black. Then
study the area surrounding the iris, which we call the "white of
the eye."

In the movement of the upper eyelid lies the range of eye expres-
sion. The lower lid moves only when we squint the eye or con-
centrate steadily on some object. When this action of the lower
lid occurs, the lid is brought upward. The upward movement of
the lower lid expresses obstinacy or doubt.

EXERCISES

The exercises that follow are arranged to increase the spon-
taneity of eye expression and at the same time to strengthen the

THE EYES ' 123

Expressions of the eyes.

124 ' THE EYES

muscles and nerves of the eyes. In doing the exercises, care should
be taken to avoid eyestrain. When the eyes grow tired, let them
rest.

1. Take a coin between the thumb and the forefinger. Hold
it before you. Swing it around, describing a circle. Let your eyes
follow it. Hold the head still. Describe a circle to the right, then to
the left. Repeat a few times and rest.

2. Sit in a chair. Read a book. Without moving the head, look
up from the book, first right, then left. Now combine the move-
ment with the head. Let the eyes react first before you move the
head. In other words, lead with the eyes. Now try moving the
eyes and the head simultaneously.

3. Rest, calm, repose, inactivity: Look in your mirror. Open the
eyes and let the upper lid stop halfway between the pupil and the
iris. This is the position of your lids when you are in repose.

4. Indifference: Look in your mirror. Bring the upper lid down a
trifle so that it rests on the top of the pupil. This will give you an
expression of unconcern. The question you are contemplating is
unimportant.

5. Energy, \een interest, intensity: Look in your mirror. Open
the eyes a little so that the upper lid is just above or resting on the
iris. This gives an expression of intense interest.

6. Reflection, thought, study: Look in your mirror. Let the upper
lid come down halfway over the pupil. This is the position of the
lid when a person is lost in thought or contemplation.

7- Animation, spirit, energy: Look in the mirror. Open the eye
until you see the white of your eye between the upper lid and the
iris. In this position, the eye registers animation, excitement. For
example, you are watching a stunting airplane.

8. Observation, examination, concentration: Nearsighted people
squint or scrutini2 closely something just beyond their eyes.
The lower lid comes up, and the eye seems to close a bit. (They
do this in order to get a better focus.) When the object comes into
sight (if it happens to be something familiar) the eye opens, and
the face lights up with recognition. Study this expression, because
the element of transition is closely allied to it. This same expression

THE EYES 125

may be used by an actor who is concentrating on an important
problem. As the solution comes, his eyes relax, illuminated by the
thought.

9. Shoc^, fright, thrill: Look in your mirror. Open the eyes
widely, but do not strain them. Hold for a few seconds. Then
open them wider and throw an intense expression into them. A
wide circle of white will surround the iris. The effect is almost that
of a concentrated stare. This expresses shock, fright, terror.

10. Change Exercise 2 to 9.

a. Assume the position of Exercise 2. Your head is bent over a
book. Now a man covers you -with a gun. You look up.

b. When you see the man, register fright. Open the mouth
slightly to intensify the expression.

11. Change Exercise 2 to 4.

a. When you look up, a man is covering you with a gun.

b. Show indifference to the gun. Curl up the edge of your mouth
in disdain. You are fearless.

12. Change Exercise 9 to 6.

a. Assume the expression of a person who has just heard some^
thing exciting.

b. Now imagine that it was a mistake the thing you thought
about to happen is called off.

13. Change Exercise 8 to 9.

a. Assume a look of close scrutiny. You've put your pearls
away for safekeeping.

b. They aren't in the jewel box. They've disappeared! Panic
sei2s you.

Control

IN THE third act of one of the season's established hits, the lead-
ing lady, a newcomer to Broadway and a natural for the part,
went into her big scene. She was a pretty young thing with a
round baby face and a gentle Southern drawl. Pretty and gentle,
that is, until the scene rose to the crisis.

Then the effect changed. The girl's face reddened furiously;
her eyes bulged. The cords in her throat stuck out like those of an
aged turkey gobbler. Her voice was shrill and rasping.

Said the lady who sat beside me, "'She'd better look out. Shell
have a stroke!"

Said I, "I hope the understudy is standing by. She'll have an
attack of laryngitis from throat strain."

For the actress was talking from the throat and not from the
diaphragm. She was, to use the expression, literally "yelling from
the top of her lungs," without support of the diaphragm muscles.
As a result of wrong breathing, the sound she produced was ugly
and constrained.

Breath rings up the curtain of life, and it rings it down. Yet the
breathing apparatus of the average person is given very little
attention* "As natural as breathing," we say and let it go at that.

Actually, about the only natural breathing we do takes place
when we are asleep. In sleep we breathe deeply, regularly, and
smoothly, and consequently we are rested and refreshed. But when

BREATH CONTROL ' 127

we are awake, most of us breathe high, using the chest only. We
gasp and pant in little shallow puffs. Some of the cells of our lungs
are used so infrequently that when a student of breath control
first takes up deep breathing exercises he feels faint. He has no
conception of his breathing capacity.

Deep Breathing

The upper seven ribs (the chest) are fastened to the breastbone.
They are stationary; they cannot be stretched. But the lower five
ribs (the diaphragm) are connected by muscles, a series of elastic
bands that can be stretched at will. Since there is a limit to expan-
sion of the seven upper ribs, high breathing or "chest breathing"
can never be so sustained as low, deep breathing from the diaphragm.

Test for Deep Breathing

Lie flat on the bed. Hold the hands on the diaphragm. Feel how
it expands and contracts in a steady, easy rhythm. Feel the muscles
work! Then rise and stand erect. Breathe low and deep ten times.

When the strong, resilient diaphragm muscles work, your
throat relaxes and gives forth full, rich tones. Thus, I place
emphasis on breath control for tone control.

Breath Attack

Force of speaking depends on the way we distribute our breath
whether it flows out easily or whether it is pushed out. The
degree of pressure against the vocal cords measures the volume
of audible sound.

There are three forms of breath distribution:

1. Effusive

2. Expulsive

3. Explosive

Effusive: The effusive attack is produced by steady pressure
of the abdominal muscles, pumping an even flow of air into the
lungs and from there into the throat. This attack we use in normal
speaking. It is a natural, relaxed sound.

128 BREATH CONTROL

Example: "What a lovely night ... so nice I hate to go in."

Expulsive: The expulsive style is achieved by more vigorous
pressure of the abdominal muscles. This produces a firm, positive
tone. This style is used in moments of excitement, offstage and on,
particularly in sustained scenes. It denotes excitement, interest,
activity.

Example: "Well ... if you think I'm going to stand here and
do nothing about it ... you're wrong."

Explosive: The explosive attack is a sharp, definite pressure
of the abdominal muscles. The sound produced is spasmodic,
jerky, and intense. This attack we use in shouting, laughing,
screaming.

Example: "Hey . . . What's going on there?"
"Help! Ahoy!"

Only when you have complete control of the diaphragm muscles
can you have complete ease in speaking on the stage. Only then
can you be sure of reserve breath when you need it.

If your stomach muscles are expanding and contracting under
your direction you can even take a breath in the middle of a
phrase. You can always be sure of rapid execution of speech and
of meeting the pace called for by the part. When the scene is
speeded, the actor must call on an extra supply of breath, just as
an engine calls for more steam or gas when it is moving at a rapid
pace.

Often the tempo of an entire scene depends on the work of
one player. If she has the tone control that comes from sustained,
deep breathing, she can lift any scene or set any pace. If she hasn^t
breath control, she'll find herself in the unenviable position of the
girl in our story: puffing and panting, her face an unlovely red.

Breath control, then, is necessary in playing:

1. Sustained dramatic scenes

2. Long emotional scenes that build up to a big climax.

BREATH CONTROL 129

3. Farce speech that requires rapid delivery

4. Any speech for:

a. Quick delivery on cues

b. Phrasing

Analysis of Sustained Playing

The following speech from "Victoria Regina," spoken by
Queen Victoria, illustrates sustained playing. Read it. Then
memorise the lines and try to speak them to the best of your
ability.

Scene from "'Victoria Regina," by Laurence Housman 1

QUEEN VICTORIA

Yes. But I shall have to go as I am. I can't get up. It's very gratifying,
very, to find . . . after all these years . . . that they do appreciate
all that I have tried to do for them ... for their good, and for this
great country of ours. We have been so near together today . . . they
and I; all my dear people of England, Scotland, and Wales . . . and
Ireland, and the dear Colonies, and India. From all round the world I
have had messages. Such loyalty . . . such devotion! Most extraordi'
nary! But tell Mr. Chamberlain how very much I approve of all the
arrangements he made for the proper representation of all parts of my
Empire in the Procession. Everything so perfectly in order. Most grati^
fying ... So happy ! As we were coming back . . . you were in front,
Beatrice, so perhaps you didn't see ... it was just by Hyde Park
Corner, there was a great crowd there; and a lot of rough men ... of
course it ought not to have happened, but it didn't matter . . . broke
right through the lines cf the police and troops guarding the route; they
ran alongside the carriage, shouting and cheering me. And I heard them
say: "Go it, Old Girl! You've done it well!" Of course, very unsuitable
... the words; but so gratifying! And, oh, I hope it's true! I hope it's
true! I must go to them now. Have the windows opened. Hark! How
they are cheering. Albert! Ah! if only you could have been here!

As you speak these lines, place the hands on the diaphragm
muscles. Do you feel the steady pumping of the muscles as they

1 "Victoria Regina," by Laurence Housman, Charles Scribners Sons.

130 ' BREATH CONTROL

work to give you the right amount of breath for sustained speak-
ing? The muscles, if used correctly, are just as reliable in their
way as the bellows that are part of a pipe organ.

The wall of the muscle between your chest and your digestive
tract is the motive force that pushes the column of air up against
the vocal cords strung on your larynx and makes them vibrate.
If your diaphragm is well developed, you'll have breath control.

Breath Conservation in Playing an Emotional

Scene

As a scene builds to a climax, the pitch of the voice rises, and
the pace increases. The actor must always anticipate this and keep
breath power in reserve. If he doesn't, his breath will weaken just
when he needs it most.

EXAMPLE
Scene from "Seventh Heaven" by Austin Strong 1

In "Seventh Heaven/' Helen Menken (Diane) was called
upon to play a difficult scene that mounted steadily in pace and
pitch.

Diane's domineering sister, Nana, has come to take her from
her husband, Chico, the street cleaner.

NANA

Come here to me I

(Her face is livid and swollen with drink;) Tve been hiding in the hall
till your sewer man got out !

DIANE
Nana . . . you Ye ill!

NANA

Huh! Didn't Boul tell you I needed you . . . that I wanted you to
come back to me? (She moves toward Diane)

1 ""Seventh Heaven," by Austin Strong. Copyright, 1922, by Austin Strong and John
Golden. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Samuel French.

BREATH CONTROL 131
DIANE

Yes . . . but Chico's just gone. I must . . . (She mores toward the
door)

NANA

(Stopping her and speaking exultantly) The war's got him.

DIANE

(Quietly) Nana, please ... I want to see hi once more. (She crosses
left. The medal hanging from Diane's nec\ attracts lianas eye. She
clutches it and tears it from Diane)

NANA

What's this thing? Something he gave you?

DIANE
Give that back, I tell you. Q^ana throws medal on floor)

NANA

Come here to me ! (She ta^es from under her shawl a sna\eli\e whip)

DIANE

Fm not afraid of you, Nana.

NANA

Huh!

DIANE

I'm not afraid, I tell you!

NANA

Come here to me! (Diane does not move. J^ana approaches her and
raises the whip. Without a word, Diane springs on her and they struggle;
l^lana gives Diane a loo\ of tenor; then Diane throws her upper center left,
overturning a chair and tearing the whip from her hand)

DIANE

Nana, I'll kill you! (She lashes l^ana^ who stumbles around bac\ of
table to door) You can never frighten me again! I am brave! I am not

132 BREATH CONTROL

afraid 1 1 am brave 1 1 am the wife of Chico ! (She throws the whip at liana's
retreating figure down the stairs, runs to the window, waving her shawl
to the marching soldiers below as the band increases in volume) Chico!
Chico I Chico! I am brave!

Breath Control in Farce Playing

Farce is a combination of fast playing and rapid speaking. There
is a great deal of hiding in closets, under beds, behind curtains, on
balconies, and running in and out of doors. The life of farce play-
ing is speed in both action and dialogue. Then, if ever, the actor
needs breath control. The effect called for is one of vibrancy of
voice, speed of action, and resiliency of body. "Staccato playing,"
some producers call it.

EXAMPLE
Scene from an original Farce Play

Linda, an actress, has inveigled John Milbrook, a conservative
banker, into backing a new play, written by her ex'husband, Tom,
in which she will appear opposite her favorite leading man, Daryl.
Linda makes an appointment with Milbrook, who is infatuated
with her, to meet at her dressing room in the theater between
matinee and evening performance, to discuss the play. To her
embarrassment, both Daryl and Tom take this opportunity to
come to the dressing room as well.

Jiggs, the maid, is busily brushing her mistress's furs when a
loud knock is heard at the door. She ignores the knock and carries
the furs to the closet, up right. The door opens. In swaggers a
handsome young man.

DARYL

Either lock it or answer it, Jiggs. . . . (He tosses his derby hat on a
chair, goes over to the table upon which is Lindas lean supper tray. He
gazes at it for a second and shudders') Thank God . . . I'm a man!

JIGGS
You better git ... Mr. Milbrook's expected. . . ,

BREATH CONTROL ' 133
DARYL

(Flops into a chair) Angel without wings. . . .

JIGGS

Miss Linda'll be mighty mad. . . . (There's a J^noc]^ at the door. Jiggs
loo\s frightened) Lord 1 . It's him!

DARYL
(Wags his finger) It's he. ...

JIGGS

Him . . . and you scat I (She pushes him to the closet and slams the
door . . . seeing his hat on the table, quickly hides it on the high shelf.
She opens the door) . . . Oh, it's you!

TOM
It's I. ... (He tosses his derby on the table)

JIGGS
(Stands ttnth arms folded) Humph! Double talk. . . . What you want?

TOM

A kiss . . . honey. (He pretends to chase her. Jiggs screams and runs
away)

LINDA

(Enters breathlessly ... is obviously annoyed to see Tom) Well . . .

TOM

(Pulls out a manuscript and tosses it on the table) First act swell . . .
second act ... maybe . . . third act ... nix. . . . (He goes toward
her) Love me?

LINDA

(Moves away quickly) No ... I mean . . . yes. . . .

TOM

Cute little cannibal. (He puZZs her into his arms) Let's get married
again. (Linda stands rigid as she hears a knoc\ at the door. Jiggs drops the
costume she is mending)

134 ' BREATH CONTROL
LINDA

(Pulling Tom toward the closet) Right there. . . .

JIGGS

(Ta\es his arm . . . pulls him in the opposite direction, toward the
bathroom) Right there. . . .

TOM
(Standing pat) Where?

LINDA

There! (She pushes him quickly into the bathroom . . . runs bac\ to
her dressing table and begins to sing very loudly)

JIGGS

(Ta\es Tom's derby and hides it on the shelf . . . then opens the door)
Good evening, Mr. Milbrook . . . (Jiggs ta\es his derby and absent'
mindedly puts it on the shelf with the two others)

LINDA

(Jumps up . . . extends her hands) Darling!

MILBROOK

(Overcome at the idea of being in an actress's dressing room) Flowers.
. . . (Sits down stiffly)

LINDA

How sweet. . . . (Goes to table . . . pic\s up box) Cigarette?
(Opens box) Oh!

MILBROOK

(Jumps up) What's wrong?

LINDA

(Holds up box) Empty!

MILBROOK

ril get some. (Starts for door)

BREATH CONTROL * 135

LINDA

(Pretends to stop him but is really pushing him) Oh, no !

MILBROOK

Be right back . . . oh, my hat. . . . (Jiggs runs to shelf and hands him
the wrong derby, which teeters on his head)

LINDA

(SZams the door . . . rushes boc^to room) Come out . . . quick! (The
bathroom and closet doors open simultaneously, and two heads pop out.
Tom rushes out. . . . Daryl duc\s bac\ unseen)

TOM
(Indicates door through u>hich MiHbroo^ has disappeared) Who?

LINDA
Our future. . . .

TOM
Love him?

LINDA

No!

TOM

Me?

JIGGS

(From screened alcove) Telephone, Miss Linda, . . . (Linda disappears
behind screen. Tom goes for his hat on the shelf . . . sees two derbies . . .
shrugs and returns to bathroom)

LINDA

(Rushes bac!^ into room . . . JooJ^s around . . . sees Tom has left)
Gone. . . . Thank heavens!

JIGGS
Who's gone? (Looking on shelf and seeing two hats)

136 BREATH CONTROL

LINDA

Get me the blue foxes. . . . (Jiggs opens closet door. A loud sneeze is
heard) Catching a cold?

JIGGS

(Trying to \eep Daryl from coming out) It ain't a cold. (The noise of their
struggle attracts Linda)

LINDA
(Furious) Daryl !

DARYL

(Sneezing and sputtering) Linda ... I ... kerchoo . . . camphor!
(He points to closet)

LINDA

Get out! (Pushes him to the outer door. ... A i^noc^ interrupts)
Get in. ... (Rushes him to the bathroom. Jiggs opens outer door and
admits Mr. Milbroofy

MILBROOK

(Hands his hat to Jiggs, who puts it on the shelf) Made it. ... Three
minutes flat (Extends several cartons of cigarettes . . . sin\s into chair
and mops his face. There's a l%noc\ at the door. . . . Jiggs answers it ...
comes feaci^ into the room)

JIGGS
It's a newspaper gentleman about the new play. . . .

MILBROOK
Great Scott! Td better go. ...

LINDA

Why?

MILBROOK

(He loo\s embarrassed) Well. . . .

BREATH CONTROL ' 137
LINDA

I understand. (She pushes him bac\ into chair. To Jiggs) Tell him Til be
right down. . . . (As soon as she leaves, Mr. MilbrooJ^ goes to shelf . . .
finds three derby hats. ... He whistles loudly)

MILBROOK

Whew! (He grabs the first one . . . which is the wrong size . . . and
in his confusion runs to the bathroom door and disappears. Jiggs dashes in
and crosses to the closet)

JIGGS

Come out! (Sees it empty) Oh! (She runs to the shelf and sees that two
hats still remain. The sound of angry male voices rises from the direction
of the bathroom . . . a scuffling noise follows. . . . The door bursts
open, and the three men dash out)

DARYL
(Trying to snatch hat off Milbroofy That's mine I

MILBROOK

(Snatches it bacl^ again and glares) Sir 1

BOTH
(Exclaiming) Who are you?

BOTH
Linda's fiance!

TOM

(Throws himself on couch and roars) Ha ... ha ... ha ... ha
... ha ... ha. ...

MILBROOK and DARYL
(Simultaneously) Who are you?

TOM
Her husband!

DARYL

Impossible!

138 BREATH CONTROL
MILBROOK

Ridiculous!

TOM

But true. . . . Past . . . present . . . future. ... Ha ... ha ...
ha ... ha ... ha!

LINDA
(Bursts into the room) Well . . .

MILBROOK

(Crosses to her) Linda ... do you like me?

LINDA
Of course, pet. . . .

DARYL

You are fond of me?

LINDA

Certainly. . . .

TOM
If memory serves me. . . .

LINDA
Yes. ...

ALL THREE

Then whom are you going to marry? (There is a gentle tyioc\ at the door.
All stand rigid)

JIGGS

(Opens door and reveals a tally handsome Russian carrying a music
portfolio) Your accompanist. . . .

LINDA

My accompanist!

BREATH CONTROL 139

Read these lines, first slowly, to get the idea, and then rapidly,
until you can keep the pace and mood of farce playing. As the
pace increases, be sure that the breathing is steady and rhythmic.

Breath Control for Quick Cue Pickup

You have seen an actor's lips working silently as he waits for
his cue while the other actors speak their lines. He is mouthing
their lines to himself so that when his cue comes he will be ready.
A quick pickup on the cue is vitally important at all times. Some-
times a matter of a split second of delay will kill the entire scene.

Break Speech

A break speech gives the effect of an actor cutting in, either to
interrupt or to help along the thought of another actor. Break
speech requires sensitive timing, and sensitive timing can be
realized only when the breath is under control

EXAMPLE

(Helping the Thought)

GIRL: Why, I thought . . .

BOY: You thought Fd gone away, and that you'd never see me again.
That's it, isn't it?

EXAMPLE
(Interruption of Thought)

FIRST CHILD: Daddy brought some books and games. . . .
SECOND CHILD: And candy, too!

Tempo

Each play has an established tempo. By cempo I do not mean the
speed with which one player alone delivers a speech; I mean the
pace of the entire performance. The pace of a well-balanced play
rises and falls continuously with a special climactic build-up at each
curtain. But each character, by his natural speed of playing (walk-
ing and body movements) and voice timbre (thin, heavy, sharp, or

140 ' BREATH CONTROL

soft) can influence the tempo of a play. It is the give and take or
blending of these elements that makes the perfect whole.

EXAMPLE

In a highly dramatic scene in "Show Boat," where the dialogue
has mounted to a high pitch, the sheriff walks slowly over to
Parthy Hawks (Edna May Oliver), a true daughter of New
England, and drawls:

HAWKS: You look like a respectable woman.
PARTHY: I am!

By her sharp, incisive attack (characteristic in tone, brevity, and
perfectly timed inflection) Miss Oliver gained one of the biggest
laughs in the show. It relieved a tension which had grown almost
unbearable as the tempo rose to a high peak. It was the psycholog-
ical moment for a laugh, and the audience welcomed it.

In the miscegenation scene in "Show Boat," a tense and dra-
matic moment, Julie has been exposed as being partly colored and
has left the show boat with her husband, Steve. All the cast of
actors and colored help, stunned, huddle in silent groups. The
tempo of the play has dropped to a lull. Charles Winninger
(Captain Andy) picks up the tempo by yelling, "Well, what're y*
all standin 1 around for like a lot of tree stumps . . . ? Clear out,
the whole lot of you. . . . Go on!"

Both these scenes show explosive attack and quick cue pickup.

Overlapping Dialogue

Overlapping dialogue occurs when two or more groups on the
stage are talking and their respective conversations have no rela-
tion to each other. For instance, one group may discuss the
weather while the other group (probably on the opposite side of
the stage) are talking about food. Because the train of thought in
scenes of this kind isn't logical, picking up the cue becomes
particularly important.

BREATH CONTROL 141

EXAMPLES

In the Group Theatre play, "The Gentle People," the girl's
father and his friend are in a rowboat discussing fishing, while
above them on the pier, his daughter (Sylvia Sidney) and the
gangster (Franchot Tone) talk about the Jvforradndie, which is
heading out to sea.

Scene from "Music in The Air/' by Oscar Hamrnerstein, 2nd., and

Jerome Kern

Bruno, a composer, and Frieda, a singer, sweethearts of "Music
in the Air," have quarreled. So have Karl and Segilinde, also
sweethearts. They meet at an outdoor garden, Bruno with
Segilinde, and Karl with Frieda. They take separate tables at
opposite sides of the stage, but each speaks loudly enough for the
other to hear.

BRUNO

(At one table, to Segilinde) You know what I told you this afternoon
about your singing? Maybe you will have an opportunity to go on the
stage sooner than you expect. Maybe in a real big part. (Friedd at other
table laughs. Bruno calls to Frieda) What are you laughing at?

FRIEDA
I just thought of something funny.

BRUNO

(Turns his bac\ to Frieda) You know, Segilinde, the charming thing
about your singing is that you are not like a typical prima donna. (He
loo\s meaningly in the direction of Frieda) Bill, please.

WAITER
For four?

FRIEDA

(At opposite table) No! Separate checks!

142 BREATH CONTROL
BRUNO

(To Segilinde) I shall never forget coining into that office this afternoon,
seeing you, so sweet, so unaffected. . . . How did that little thing go?
(Segilinde sings)

FRIEDA
(Very annoyed at other table) Come, Karl.

Phrasing

Phrasing gives light and shade to a speech. Some words are
naturally more important in a sentence than others. We accentuate
some; we slight others. Phrasing also means the grouping of
words in relation to thought. Just as some words in a sentence are
more important than others, so some sentences are more important
in a paragraph.

The actor must recognize this: he must know where to pause,
which sentences to run together and which sentences to break up.
Again the breath is called upon, for we break the thought by
pausing for breath. The appearance of a period does not always
mean stop. Sometimes the natural place to pause is in the middle
of a line, where no punctuation is indicated.

EXAMPLE

Scene from "Show; Bodt," by Oscar Hammerstein, 2nd., and Jerome

Kern

MAGNOLIA

Why do you love Steve?

JULIE

I don't know. . . . He's such a bad actor on the stage. And he things
he's so good. . . . Maybe that's why I love him. . . . You see, child
. . . love's a funny thing. . . . There's no sense to it. ... That's why
you got to be so careful when it comes creeping up on you.

BREATH CONTROL 143

The broken lines indicate the points where pause gives meaning
to a thought. The words italio^ed are accented for color and
variety.

Don't Shout, Please!

Very often, in his effort to create greater force through exercise
of his breathing apparatus, the actor overdoes the process and
thereby ruins the artistic effect of his playing. In his 2alous effort
to be heard, he forgets proper breath control and tenses all his
body muscles.

This cause may be emotional, especially in the case of an inex-
perienced actor, but once in a while well-trained actors with
many years" experience find themselves up against the same
problem.

Fredric March and Florence Eldridge, who played the leads
in the mammoth production, "The American Way," had to get
used to an immense auditorium and stage and a cast of 250 people
plus a brass band.

For at least a week before the opening, the actors were worried
lest their voices should fail to carry. They had people sitting all
over the house listening. And these people came running to them
with the news that they couldn't hear what Miss Eldridge and
Mr. March were saying. So the actors fell into the habit of shout'
ing their lines. Things were all right out in front then, but not
with the players; in a day or so both were out of rehearsals with
laryngitis, caused by the unaccustomed strain on the vocal cords.

Mr. March and Miss Eldridge didn't know what to do. They
were used to quiet, intimate acting the kind where you can turn
your back on the stage and speak in a low voice if that seems
natural. But "The American Way" was a play in which they must
face front and shout. The audience at the Center Theatre must be
reached.

Finally a well-known voice coach came to their rescue.

"Don't shout," she advised. "Speak naturally. If you throw a
pebble into a pond, it makes a very small dent where it strikes the
water, but, if the force behind the throwing is strong enough, the

144 * BREATH CONTROL

dent keeps on spreading farther and farther in circles. That spot
in the center is your breath control area, where you begin to speak,
but the voice spreads out from the center until it reaches the rim
of one of the big circles."

If the breathing is right, an actor can depend on his voice to
gain in power as it leaves his diaphragm and moves out, in circles,
to the top seat in the gallery of the largest auditorium.

I Can Hear You Breathe!

When an actor speaks, it should not be possible to hear the
inhaling or exhaling of his breath. There is no surer sign of the
ham actor than the vague, meaningless panting that accompanies
some of his important speeches. Listen in on any radio, and you'll
hear what I mean. The little gasping noises in the girl's throat as
she admits her love of the handsome hero. The sharp, rasping
sounds in the middle of a line in which the villain makes known his
black purpose. All annoying and objectionable and easy to avoid
if you know how to breathe properly.

Noisy breathing comes from the pressing of too much breath
through a narrow passageway with a too explosive motion, caus-
ing a sharp intake of breath or a gasp.

If the breath is taken often enough, with proper control, there
will be no need for panting and puffing. The tone passageway will
be left open to permit the entrance and exit of the tone without
any extraneous noise.

EXAMPLE

D'Artagnan's answer to Lady de Winter's question ("The
Three Musketeers") as to how he knew she was stopping at the
Inn.

Right Way to Breathe

I followed you to the inn. . . . (Breath) Suddenly you appeared
in the window there. ... I could not resist you longer. (Breath)
Risking your disfavor . . . your anger ... I came. (Breath) And with
your permission ... I should like to stay a little. . . .

BREATH CONTROL 145

Wrong Way to Breathe

I followed you to the inn. (Breath) Suddenly you appeared in the
window there. (Breath) I could not resist you longer. (Breath) Risking
your disfavor, I came (breath). And with your permission (breath) I
should like to stay a little (breath).

BJhiythniic Speaking

Next to noisy breathing, no habit is more easily acquired than
the habit of breathing in jerks in the middle of a sentence and
again when the sentence is completed.

EXAMPLE 1

TRIVULZIO: You men of the sword are only too apt to believe that there
is no other courage than that which dwells at the end of a blade.

Without correct breath support, the actor will be forced to
break this line, although there is no indication by the author that a
pause should be made. Without the proper breath support, an
actor might read the line in this manner:

You men of the sword are only too apt (breath) to believe that there is
no other courage (breath) than that which dwells at the end of a blade.

Here again the actor is speaking until his breath control is gone
and then gasping for breath before he picks up the next line.
Emotional upsets, such as fear or anger, have much to do with this
kind of jerky breathing. For that reason, the beginner must guard
against emotional instability as well as breath instability when he
speaks his lines.

Before you start your line, clear up your emotional problems;
get a grip on your nerves. Then breathe deeply and regularly until
you establish the proper connection between rhythmic speaking
and rhythmic breathing.

1 From "Monna Vanna," by Maurice Maeterlinck. Used by permission of Dodd,
Mead 6? Company, Inc., and George Allen & Unwin, Ltd.

146 BREATH CONTROL

How to Acquire Correct Breathing Habits

Since there can be no reliable breath control unless the other
parts of the body are under control, the first step in acquiring
correct breathing habits is complete relaxation of the body, correct
posture, and proper coordination of the mind, the body, and the
voice.

EXERCISES

1. Sit cross4egged on the floor. Rotate the arms slowly, as if
circling a large rubber ball, inhaling slowly for four seconds, hold'
ing the breath for four seconds, letting the air fill the body. The
body rotates slowly, exercising the stomach muscles.

Exercise of these abdominal muscles moves the muscles up and
down, thus causing the blood to circulate through all the vital
organs encased in the torso.

2. Sit on the floor with the legs extended in front of you and the
toes together. Inhale deeply. Bending from the hips until the head
reaches the knees, grasp the ankles with both hands. Exhale
slowly.

This exercise gives perfect control of the abdominal muscles and
aids in the development of diaphragmatic breathing.

3. Stand with the feet slightly apart, the hands resting on the
hips. Breathe deeply; then massage the abdominal area by pushing
downward with the palm of the hands. Emphasis here is on the
abdominal muscles, and the exercise facilitates complete freedom
in breathing.

4. Kneeling on both knees, the hands thrust forward loosely
in front, sway both back and forth, using the hip line as a pivot
in returning to vertical position. This strengthens the thighs and
exercises the back muscles and those of the diaphragm.

5. Stand on your toes, raise your hands way above the head,
and breathe deeply. Bring your hands down slowly, forming a ball
from the waistline as you exhale. Do this exercise before an open
window.

BREATH CON 7 TROL 147

6. Sit down on the floor, the legs stretched straight out in
front of you. Bend over to touch the tip of your toes, wriggle the
tips of your toes, and touch them with the tips of your fingers.
Repeat this motion twelve times.

Inhale and Exhale

Now that your body is perfectly poised and your breathing is
under control, the next move is a series of exercises to develop
greater facility in the use of the breathing muscles.

EXERCISES

1. At the open window, stand straight and relaxed, with the
chest high and stationary. Extend the arms out in front. Now take
a good deep breath; slowly fill the lungs. Feel your abdomen
extend. As you inhale, spread the arms and bring them around
parallel with the body, as in swimming. Hold the breath for a
few seconds. Feel the diaphragm take hold. Exhale and relax.

Repeat this exercise four times at first. Increase one time each
day until you are able to repeat twelve times without tiring.
Remember that the diaphragm controls the breath. Keep your
mind on the diaphragm muscles.

2. Stand up straight, with the chest high and stationary.
Press the fingers on the abdomen. Take a slow, deep breath. Feel
your abdomen compress and extend. Hold the breath for eight
counts. Bend forward from the waistline with a sharp, quick move
and exhale. As you exhale, press the fingers into the abdomen.
Relax.

Repeat this exercise four times. Increase one time each day
until you can repeat the exercise twelve times without tiring.

3. Press the fingers on the abdomen. Form the lips as though
you were about to whistle. Slowly exhale until the abdomen is
flat. Press out all the air. Now inhale slowly in the same manner
until no more breath can be taken in. Try to make one continuous
breath from the exhale to the inhale. This exercise gives your
diaphragm a thorough workout.

148 - BREATH CONTROL

Repeat four times at first and then increase the number until
you are able to repeat the exercise twelve times without tiring.

4. Press the fingers on the abdomen. Form the lips as though
you were about to whistle or blow. Slowly exhale until the
abdomen feels flat and empty. Then inhale slowly in the same
manner. Next, increase the speed of this exercise until you feel the
diaphragm vibrating rapidly. It should suggest the feeling and
sound of a locomotive picking up steam or of a dog panting after a
hard run. Compel your diaphragm to do all the work.

In this final exercise you are giving an imitation of how your
breathing apparatus would act after a fast game of tennis. Here
you get the same results without the violent exercise. Instead of
using your body energy, the exercise will give you a fresh supply.

Practice the entire set of exercises faithfully until you have
complete control of your breath. When you are sure of this
control, drop Exercises 1, 2 and 3. Continue Exercise 4 daily to
maintain good breath control. When your energy is low, this
practice will give you a fresh supply. The process is similar to
recharging a battery.

I call this vibrational exercise the conditioner. When your
nerves are frayed and your digestion unstable, it offers sure relief.

Breathing and Thinking

Read these lines aloud, keeping in mind the idea the author had
when he wrote the play.

EXAMPLE 1

DIANE: Stand away ... I know what I'm talking about. For four
years I believed I was married and there was a Bon Dieu protecting me
(she sneers). Bon Dieu! There's nothing! It's all false! My hope in Chico
was false. I pretended this place was Heaven. I clung to that Idea as
Chico told me to . . . but it's all collapsed. . . . He's dead. Now when
I want your Bon Dieu most he's not here. He does not exist. There's
nothing, nothing, nothing!

1 From "Seventh Heaven," by Austin Strong. Copyright, 1922, by Austin Strong and
John Golden. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Samuel French.

BREATH CONTROL 149

Think in terms of audience response. What kind of people are
listening to you? What response do you wish to raise?

As soon as you hit upon the meaning of the line and the reaction
you wish to make, stop a moment before you speak. Do you see
how naturally and automatically you start to breathe before you
speak?

If this automatic breathing doesn n t come, start all over again.
Think of the idea behind the scene, then the audience reaction,
and then wait for the automatic breathing.

This kind of practice will establish the relation between thought
and breath, and will enable you to breathe deeply and correctly
without practice. Remember: The rhythm of breathing must cor'
respond to the rhythm of thinking.

Wiscoveting you* ^ Voice

H

ave you ever really heard yourself speak?

If not, how are you going to find out whether you have an
adequate stage voice?

The surest way is the one all voice coaches are advising before
they start a program of work: they make the student talk into a
recording machine and then play the record back to him. The big
music stores will make a record for from one to three dollars.

The result isn't always pleasant. There are, so statistics say, only
five good natural voices in every hundred. The others are thin or
whining or smothered or, in some cases, even swallowed.

What constitutes a good stage voice?

1 . Enough vigor and carrying power to be heard at a reasonable
distance.

2. Pleasing pitch.

3. Flexibility variety of sounds.

4. Well-modulated tone; not harsh, nasal, or flat.

5. Authoritative enough to make an audience respond to any
mood or emotion.

Carrying Power

If you know how to use your voice correctly, you can almost
whisper and still be heard at a distance.

DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE 151

The first thing a new player at the Municipal Opera Theatre
in St. Louis says, on looking from the ninety-foot stage into the
auditorium, which seats 10,000 people, is, "My voice will
never carry T

A loud voice doesnt necessarily cdrry far. A voice that lac\s great
volume but that takes advantage of the vibrational powers of the
head cavities will carry twice as far with less pressure. This vibra-
tion is called "edge"; it is the quality that ta^es the voice of the colora-
tura singer into tine furthermost noo\ of the largest auditorium.

With his eye, the actor gauges the amount of voice power he
must use to be heard. In a small theater, naturally, he need put
very little pressure behind his tones. But the ability to gauge
voice power is necessary, since on tour the actor plays in many
theaters, some small, some very large. When Katharine Cornell
went on tour in repertory, she played one week in a small house
and the next in an immense auditorium. "It is next to impossible
to stretch modern dialogue to fit the dimensions,'" mourned Miss
Cornell. But she achieved it. Her rich, vibrant, perfectly placed
voice contributed just the right amount of power to suit the sise
of the theater, large or small.

A weak or blurred voice places an added strain on the ears of the
listener.

In the starring vehicle of a famous English actor, so popular was
the play that it was possible only to buy seats far back in the theater.
The actor gave a fine, restrained performance of a clerical char-
acter, but in many instances his voice failed to carry. I sat on the
edge of my seat, straining every nerve to hear him. I was not only
uncomfortable but annoyed. During intermission in the lobby I
heard at least a half do2n people say, "I can't hear half that he
says."

When an actor inspires that sort of reaction, he is off on the
wrong foot. The audience isn^t with him, and regardless of how
fine a performance he may be giving otherwise, he cannot counter^
act the first impression.

To give the effect of natural speech and yet to speak out with
enough power to carry is one of the new actor's most serious
problems.

152 DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE

Pitch

Pitch is the voice level, whether low or high. The length and
thickness of the vocal cords and the emotional state of the speaker
determine the pitch.

Change of pitch occurs:

1. Within a word (inflection)

2. Between words, thoughts, sentences (change of key indicates
change of thought).

EXAMPLE OF INFLECTION WITHIN A WORD
Scene from '"''M.onnd Vanna," by J^/laurice Maeterlincfy 1

PRINCIVALLE

Who fired the shot?

VANNA

I know not; the man fled.

PRINCIVALLE

Are you in pain?

VANNA

No.

PRINCIVALLE

Shall I have the wound dressed?

VANNA

No. It is nothing.

PRINCIVALLE

Your mind is made up?

VANNA

Yes.

PRINCIVALLE

Your husband consents?

1 From "Monna Vanna," by Maurice Maeterlinck. Used by permission, of Dodd,
Mead &* Company, Inc., and George Allen and Unwin, Ltd,

DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE 153
VANNA

Yes.

PRINCIVALLE

There is still time if you wish to renounce . . .

VANNA

No.

PRINCIVALLE

I can conceive that a virtuous woman . . .

VANNA

Yes.

PRINCIVALLE

Who loves her husband . . .

VANNA

Yes.

PRINCIVALLE

Deeply?

VANNA

Yes.

PRINCIVALLE

You are clad only in your mantle?

VANNA
Yes.

PRINCIVALLE

You have seen the chariots and flocks in front of the tent?

VANNA

Yes,

Although Vanna's answers are mostly in monosyllables, the
meaning of her thoughts is conveyed entirely through inflection.

154 ' DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE

EXAMPLE OF CHANGE OF PITCH
THROUGH CHANGE OF THOUGHT 1

PELLEAS: Ahl I breathe at last! I thought, one moment, I was going to
be ill in those enormous crypts; I was on the point of falling. . . . There
is a damp air there, heavy as a leaden dew, and darkness thick as a
poisoned paste. . . . And now, all the air of all the sea I ... There is
a fresh wind, see; fresh as a leaf that has just opened, over the little green
waves. . . . Hold ! the flowers have just been watered at the foot of the
terrace, and the smell of the verdure and the wet roses comes up to us.
... It must be nearly noon; they are already in the shadow of the
tower. ... It is noon; I hear the bells ringing, and the children are
going down to the beach to bathe.

Topping a Scene

When an actor is called upon to "top a speech," he uses a
louder and usually a higher vocal pitch than that of the other actors
in the scene.

EXAMPLES

To silence a crowd, the actor tops a scene by shouting, "Si-
lence!" or "Stop it!" His voice must be loud enough to be heard
above the roar of the crowd.

On the other hand, an actor may top a speech by emphasis
without raising his voice or using a higher pitch.

DOROTHY: You said we were going to the theater.

BILL: I'm not going.

DOROTHY: But IVe bought a new dress. . . . You promised. . . .

BILL: I said Tm not going . . . and thats final! (emphatically)

The Speaking Range

Every human being possesses a two-octave speaking range.
And yet most of us use only a small part of one octave; the balance
of this great speaking force is undeveloped.

1 From Telleas and Mellsande," by Maurice Maeterlinck. Used by permission of
Dodd, Mead & Company, Inc., and George Allen and Unwin, Ltd.

DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE * 155

Checking the Vocal Range

Practice speaking the word "no" on middle C of the piano.
Then take the next half tone. Continue up the scale as high as you
can go, still speaking (not singing). When you feel the throat
tightening, stop. Never force the voice; it cannot be hurried.

When you have reached the limit of the natural vocal range,
take the next half tone, either above or below, and practice very
softly. You are stretching the vocal cords, or bands. As the tone is
placed, increase the breath volume a little each day.

Although not many singers are gifted with a natural high C or
G, by patient practice these tones can be developed. So can the
actor with a naturally high-pitched voice develop a fuller range by
practicing low notes and the actor with a low-pitched voice
round out his range by practicing high notes.

Only when the voice range is fully developed can vocal variety
be realised. The more flexible the cords, the wider the range. The
actor who speaks in a monotone (or one tone, be it high or low
pitch) simply has neglected to develop his range.

The Vocal Cords

The vocal cords are not cords at all. They are the outer edge
of two muscles lying horizontally across the windpipe inside the
larynx. Fastened in front and loose at the back, they operate very
much like a scissors. These cords, which are used constantly, are
probably the most delicate muscles of the body. Every time we
speak, laugh or cry or make an audible sound, the cords are called
upon to function.

Pressure of the breath causes the vocal cords to vibrate. Pitch
(high or low) is determined by the frequency with which these
vibrations strike the ear.

The frequency with which the cords vibrate depends upon:

1. Length

2. Thickness

3. Tension

156 DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE

The tauter, thinner, or shorter a string is when plucked, the
more vibrations it will give off. The same principle applies to the
vocal cords. The length and thickness of the cords are a part of
the natural equipment, but the tension depends upon the emotional
state of the speaker. Anger, excitement, and nervousness tend to
tighten the cords. The expression, "a high-strung person/ 1 might
have been invented to describe a person who acts and speaks at a
high tension.

The vocal cords of a man are usually thicker and longer than a
woman's and therefore his pitch is lower.

Because women's vocal cords are shorter than men's, their
voices are higher in pitch. The voices of children and the very
old are light because the breath pressure against the cords is light.
A tremolo in the voice is the sign of muscular weakness of the
cords. In a singer it shows that the cords have been overstrained.
The voice of an old person shakes. So does that of an angry person
or one emotionally aroused.

Flexibility

The use of more than one speaking tone calls for flexibility of
the vocal cords. This does not necessarily mean that you must have
a great range (you may have flexibility with only four or five notes).
It means that the voice is capable of rising or falling in intervals or
steps.

Flexibility of the cords helps:

1. Inflection (change of pitch within words and between
words, phrases, sentences, and thoughts).

2. Modulation (crescendo and diminuendo of a single tone) .

Inflection

Just as there is a word vocabulary, so there is a vocal, or sound,
vocabulary. An interesting, forceful speaker has at his command a
selection of rich, illustrative sounds, the product of pitch, empha-
sis, light and shading. As no orator would think of confining
himself to a few words, neither should an actor rely on a few tones.

DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE 157

And, in turn, variety of inflection depends upon the flexibility
of the vocal cords.

Inflection is the change of pitch within a word to indicate
thought. The same word used in a different manner may express
any number of thoughts.

Inflection is the stressing of one syllable and the slighting of
another.

For instance, if you were listening in on a voice lesson, you
might see a young woman lifting her arms to an imaginary lover
and saying, "Two . . . four ... six ... eight . . . ten."

The idea is that her inflection is so perfect that the audience
will be able to decode these strange numbers and know that the
girl means: "Darling, I love you/'

Another time she might say, "eight . . . seven ... six ...
five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one," and you would
know from her inflection that she meant: "Go! Never darken
these doors again!"

There are three kinds of inflection:

1. Rising, which usually denotes suspended thought; a ques-
tioning attitude. The rising inflection is an unfinished sound.

2. Falling, which is positive and decisive. The falling inflection
is a finished sound.

3 . Circumflex, which is a combination of both rising and falling.
The falling inflection is a curved sound. It may convey evasion,
consideration., reflection, doubt, sarcasm.

EXAMPLES

1. Rising

"I heard a very interesting story about how the play came to be
written."
"Yes?"

2. Falling

"Were you glad when the play was over?"
"Yes."

158 DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE

3. Circumflex: Rise and Fall

"Did you like the star of the play?"
"Ye-e'ss fwith reservations]}. 1 ''

Tone

The quality of the voice depends upon the tone. The tone,
regardless of natural pitch (high or low), may still be monotonously
flat, thin and twangy, deep and hollow, or breathy. (Most
athletes have a breathy quality.)

The voice has five tones:

1. Orotund (rich, full resonant tone). Used in making
speeches or to express sentiment or emotions.

2. Pectoral (low-pitched, hollow sound from the chest).
Used to express supernatural or eerie.

3. Aspirate (breathy speech more breath than sound). Used
in whispers, panting excitement.

4. Guttural (throaty, hard, rasping sound, made by tight
throat muscles). Used to express anger, threat.

5. Oral. Natural tone of speaking.

EXAMPLES

1. Orotund Tone "Monrna Vanna" 1

GUIDO: (To his people) Ah, you, my brothers, to whom he caused so
much suffering; you whom he sought to massacre, whose wives and
children he sold into slavery, look at him now!

2. Pectoral Tone "Everyman"

EVERYMAN: What desireth God of me?

DEATH : That shall I show thee; a reckoning He will needs have without
any longer respite.

3. Aspirate Tone
Shi! . . . Don't even breathe. . . . They will hear. . . !

1 From "Monna Vanna," by Maurice Maeterlinck. Used by permission of Dodd, Mead
&? Company, Inc., and George Allen and Unwin, Ltd.

DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE ' 159

4. Guttural Tone ' Dead End" 1

TOMMY: Yuh'll git it, yuh stool pigeon! Ah'll give yuh sump"n yuh
won't fuhgit so easy.

5. Oral Tone "Victoria Regirifl" 2

VICTORIA : In my position, it is I who have to say it ... unfortunately.
Ordinarily it is not what a woman would wish to say herself. She would
rather ... he said it.

The Building of a Tone

The tone begins with the thought we wish to express. Then
we take a breath (diaphragm). The breath passes into the lungs,
through the throat, touches the cords that vibrate, changing the
breath into sound. The sound, aided by the resonance chambers of
the head, passes into the mouth and is formed into a word by the
lips, teeth, and tongue. Tone is always limited by the breath
capacity, or energy. Never force a loud tone by calling upon the
outer muscles of the throat for help.

Nasal Tone

A nasal tone, often referred to as "talking through the nose,"
is really just the opposite. Instead of talking through the nose
(using the nasal passages for resonance), the actor is talking from
the throat.

Nasal tone is caused by the habitual depression of the soft
palate and the tightening of the throat and tongue muscles. The
soft palate is the fleshy curtain attached to the hard palate, or roof
of the mouth. Normally, it hangs relaxed. During speech, except
in the use of the letters n and m, it is drawn up and back.

(Note the difference between a nasal tone and a head tone,
which uses the nasal passages for resonance. Resonance depends
on freedom from all restriction in the throat and nasal passages.)

To test yourself for nasal tones, hold the nose and recite the
alphabet. If you speak correctly, n and m will be the only letters

1 "Dead End," by Sidney Kingsley, Random House, Inc.

2 "Victoria Regina," by Laurence Housman, Charles Scribner's Sons.

160 ' DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE

that will sound differently when the nose is shut than when it is
free.

To cure this unpleasant nasal tone, the palate must be relaxed.
In order to check the position of the palate, look in the mirror and,
with tongue flat on the mouth, hum, "Ah." See how the soft
palate raises. Hum, "Ah," again; hold it; then relax. Continue
these two movements until the soft pakte is flexible instead of
rigidly depressed.

When you hum, keep your tongue and the adjoining throat
muscles relaxed. Never arch the tongue or contract the throat
muscles. Hum softly.

EXERCISE

Practice holding your nostrils while you say, "Jersey cows
browse placidly all day."

Keep this up until you can make the sentence sound equally
musical with or without the nose held.

Modulation of a Tone

The modulation of a tone is the conscious control of a sound
to affect the emotions of the listener as well as to express the feel-
ings of the speaker. A change in emotion influences the modula-
tion or coloring of a word, and a change of thought influences the
inflection.

Modulation concerns the degree of breath power placed against
the vocal cords. By use of the breath, resonance, and timing, a
single tone may be modulated.

We modulate:

1. Pitch (whisper, scream, murmur, shout)

2. Tone: by

4. Degree of volume (swelling or diminishing)

b. Tempo (the length of the word in relation to other

words, or the length of a syllable in relation to other

syllables)

DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE 161

There are three degrees of modulation in a tone: cold, warm,
fiery.

1. Cold (mental). This modulation is usually a monotone,
uncolored by emotion. It has an intellectual ring and might be
used by a lecturer, public speaker, or someone reciting statistics.

2. Warm (emotive). This tone, which is warm and rich, springs
from the emotions. It appeals to the audience's mind through their
hearts.

3. Fiery (vital). This tone carries the ring of vitality, power,
energy. It is the tone used in the old-fashioned declamatory school
of acting and is likely to sound false or insincere if not tempered by
the mental and emotive powers. Used by the leader of a mob,
carried away by passion, it would incite men to action.

EXAMPLES IN PITCH MODULATION

1. Sh! I hear someone coming [whisper]!

2. Help! Help! We're sinking {[scream}.

3. How gentle and tranquil the valley is tonight {murmur}.

4. Hey there! We're calling you {shout}.

EXAMPLES IN TONE MODULATION

1. Volume

The sun, warm and vibrant^ dazzled us. (The breath volume is
stressed upon the first syllables, but the tone remains the same.)

2. Tempo

The sun shining on the sea dazzled us. (The first syllables are
held longer than the last.)

STUDY IN TONE MODULATION
"MEETING AT NIGHT," BY ROBERT BROWNING

The gray sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half 'moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,

162 DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE

As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
As I quench its speed f the slushy sand.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;

Three fields to cross till a farm appears;

A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch

And blue spurt of a lighted match,

And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears,

Than the two hearts beating each to each I

"CHORUS FROM ATALANTA," BY ALGERNON SWINBURNE

The full streams feed on flower or rushes,
Ripe grasses trammel a travelling foot,
The faint fresh flame of the young year flushes
From leaf to flower and flower to fruit;
And fruit and leaf are as gold and fire,
And the oat is heard above the lyre,
And the hoofed heel of a satyr crushes
The chestnut-husk at the chestnut-root.

And Pan by noon and Bacchus by night.
Fleeter of foot than the fleet-foot kid,
Follows with dancing and fills with delight
The Maenad and the Bassarid;
And soft as lips that laugh and hide
The laughing leaves of the trees divide,
And screen from seeing and leave in sight
The God pursuing, the maiden hid.

Study these lines and see how the meaning of each word de-
serves a different treatment. The words "quick sharp scratch"
have different tones and meter than the words "laughing leaves."
The words "warm sea-scented beach" are entirely different in
tempo and volume from the words "fleeter of foot."

The Development of Cadence

Cadence is the rhythmic movement of speech, or its modulating
tones. Reading aloud poetry that has a definite meter is good prac-
tice for developing cadence.

DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE 163

Stand in a corner facing the wall (for a sounding board) and
repeat with feeling the Browning and Swinburne poems.

The walls throw back your voice and let you hear it somewhat
as others do.

Reading a foreign language aloud is also helpful in developing
cadence and tone.

Katharine Cornell makes it a habit to read French books aloud
to herself before a performance. The French language lends itself
to vigorous use of the mouth. The Italian language exercises the
vowel sounds.

Voice Authority

Every emotion known to man can be expressed through the voice.
A character in a wheel chair can dominate a scene without moving
a muscle, so long as he has the power of speech. I am thinking of
the invalid, played by Frank Conroy, in "The Little Foxes,"
by Lillian Hellman. In the most dramatic scene of the play,
Conroy, a helpless invalid, relies on his voice to call for help, to
plead with his wife to save his life, to whimper his dying prayers.

A scene can be played in the dark with consummate artistry,
depending entirely on the voice.

In "I Married an Angel," one such scene was played in the dark.
A surprise party was staged at the home of the leading character,
played by Dennis King. Just before his entrance the stage was
darkened. The young man entered, calling his valet, who asked his
master if he would like to invite in some friends. The man said, no.
All his friends were blockheads. He started to undress for bed.
When he asked his valet to help him remove his trousers, the lights
came up, revealing, to his ama^ment, a room full of laughing
people.

Strength, pitch, modulation, and authority those are the four
requirements for a good stage voice. Now let us analyze your
voice to discover the handicaps, if any, that must be overcome
before you can hope to use your voice effectively across the
footlights.

164 ' DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE

EXAMPLE

First, here is the pronunciation test, a simple little story that on
first reading seems nothing more than a childish account of the
adventures of a young rat.

"Arthur the Rat"

Once there was a young rat, named Arthur, who never could make up
his mind. Whenever his friends asked him if he would like to go out with
them, he would only answer, "I don't know." He wouldn't say "yes"
or "no" either. He would always shirk making a choice.

His Aunt Helen said to him: "Now look here 1 . No one is going to care
for you if you carry on like this. You have no more mind than a blade of
grass."

One rainy day, the rats heard a great noise in the loft. The pine
rafters were all rotten, so that the barn was rather unsafe. At last one
of the joists gave way and fell to the ground. The walls shook, and all
the rats 1 hair stood on end with fear and horror. "This won't do," said
the captain. "I'll send out scouts to search for a new home."

Within five hours the ten scouts came back. They said, "We found a
stone house where there is room and board for us all. There is a kindly
horse named Nelly, a cow, a calf, and a garden with an elm tree." The
rats first crawled out of their little houses and then stood on the floor
in a long line. Just then the old rat saw Arthur. "Stop," he ordered
coarsely. "You are coming, of course?" "I'm not certain," said Arthur,
undaunted, "because the roof may not come down yet. Those beams
look very strong to me." "Well," said the angry old rat, "we can't wait
for you to join us. Right about face! March I"

Arthur stood and watched them hurry away. "I think I'll go tomor^
row," he calmly said to himself, "but then again, I don't know; it's so
nice and snug here. I'm sure these walls are safe."

That night there was a big crash. In the foggy morning, some men
with some boys and girls rode up and looked at the barn. When one
of them moved a board, he saw a young rat, quite dead, half in and half
out of his hole. Thus the shirker got his due.

Actually, this brief story contains almost all the sounds in the
English language, together with some excellent combinations.

DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE 165

For instance, "No one is going to care for you if you carry on

like this."

Study the sentence, "He would always shirk making a choice."
Strength: " 'Well/ said the angry old rat, "we can't wait for

you to join us. Right about face! March!' "

Pitch: "His Aunt Helen said to him: "Now look here! 1 "
Modulation: CCC I think Til go tomorrow/ he calmly said to

himself."

Authority: " "Stop!' he ordered coarsely. 'You are coming, of

course? 1 "

The Voice the Instrument of the Emotions

Listen to a group of people talking in a room together. The
various voices differ as to pitch and intonation. As each person
contributes a new thought, the pitch changes. One voice is thin,
high, quick, staccato. Another is low, rich, slow in response.
Someone laughs. There is a pause and pause is really vocal
punctuation. Perhaps two people speak at once; they apologize;
there is another pause; and then the conversation is resumed.

As in real life, so on the stage, except that behind the footlights
you are one of the players instead of an observer of the real life
scene. You are speaking the lines that someone else has conceived;
therefore you must be prepared with a technique to interpret them.

When cultivated people get together for conversation, they do
not blurt out all their thoughts in one breath. They break up their
sentences; they pause; they choose their words. So when an
actor finds in his script the stage direction (Pause)* he is doing
nothing more than following the habits of his daily life off stage.

If this variety of vocal response does not come naturally, then
it must be artificially stimulated.

For instance, suppose an actor in excellent health and spirits is
cast to play a mean dyspeptic. Not only must his imagination build
the external character by costume, make-up, and action, but he
must create a voice to match it.

The vocal timbre of a sick person is whiny and petulant. The
tempo of his sentences is sharp and impatient. He is speaking with

166 DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE

effort. Life is unpleasant, and he shows it not only in his facial
expression and actions but in his voice pitch and rhythm of
speaking.

Voice and mood always blend. A trained actor would no more
shout a love scene than he would raise his voice in a peal of
laughter at the sight of someone being hurt.

The human voice responds naturally to mood. When we are
not feeling well our voices drop. The tones are dull and lagging.
When we are in good health our voices are bright and quick in
timbre, and we become stimulated when we speak.

A nervous, highly energetic person rarely speaks slowly or on
an even pitch. On the other hand, a phlegmatic person seldom
speaks in a rapid staccato fashion.

The experienced pkyer holds you with an easy flow of language.
There is a variety of musical tone and inflection in his voice as it
rises and falls in perfect rhythm. These effects don't come by mere
chance. They are the result of careful study.

The Voice a Stage Mechanic

There are certain technical principles of stage speech that the
beginner must absorb before he can hope to project his voice across
the footlights.

If, by a sharp inflection, he can get an effect out of a line that
brings applause from the audience, he must first learn how to get
the effect and then how to repeat it, night after night. Voice
production, correct intonation and inflection are technical
matters that can and -must be learned,

By following these exercises, the actor will develop the right
use of his vocal cords until he is able to use them in a natural,
effortless manner. The combined set of exercises will place the
voice and bring out the timbre he needs for continued hard work.
Once placed, he will be able to stand the terrific strain the player's
voice is under at all times.

Practice these exercises softly. No power or pressure should be
used. Feel the vibration in the upper part of your nose and head.
The vibration will increase naturally as you continue the exercise.

DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE ' 167

The first exercise concerns the natural sounding board in the
head. This sounding board is located in the small bony cavities
around the nose and forehead. We use these cavities for additional
vibration to give edge and carrying power to the tone. At the
same time, the exercise relieves the pressure on the vocal cords and
throat muscles.

A soft preliminary hum places the tone in the front head cavi-
ties. This is the tone finder. By joining the vowel sounds to the
hum, the tone is placed properly. There should be no break in the
voice as the hum is combined with the vowel sounds. Practice
softly the following exercises.

EXERCISES

1. With the lips closed, the throat relaxed, hum softly; then
open the mouth and join with na-naynee.

With the lips closed, the throat relaxed, hum softly; then open
the mouth and join with ma-may-mee.

Practice slowly the above exercises in the natural tone of the
speaking voice. As you become familiar with them, go up four
tones on the scale in half-tone intervals and then down.

2. With the lips closed, hum softly. Open the mouth and join
the hum with m-nay-nee-ma/may-mee in one continuous sound.
Always thin\ the tones up in the head. As you become familiar
with them go up four tones on the scale in half-tone intervals and
then down again.

3. Continue with Exercise 2 and go up the scale in half-tone
intervals and descend the same way. This should be a complete
octave.

4. Repeat the vowels a'e-i'&u separately and distinctly. Open
the mouth naturally. Try to place the tone in the same location as
in the previous exercises. You are seeking vibration "edge" on the
tones, not volume.

5. Join the vowels a^vo^u into one continuous sound, all on
the same note. The lips and the mouth form the sound. There is no
break.

168 DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE

6. Join the vowels into one continuous sound and go up the
scale in halftone intervals. Descend the same way. Complete the
vowels d't'i'O'U on each note.

7- Join Exercises 2 and 4 into one continuous sound. Hum
na'nay'nee<ma'may-mee-d'e'i'0'U. All these sounds should be
placed in the same location in the head.

8. Repeat Exercise 7 and go up the scale in half-tone intervals
and descend the same way. Complete the exercise on each note of
the scale.

9. As you become proficient in the exercises, alternate with the
following exercise, which will help the articulation and give
flexibility. Use it up and down the scale. You will notice it uses one
interval more than a complete scale, as in: do're'mi'fa'SoMa-ti'do'
re-do'ti'la'sol-fa'mi're'do. Practice the exercise slowly at first.
Then increase in speed until you are able to repeat five or six times
without stopping. There is no break; all is done in perfect rhythm.

Practice these exercises night and morning. When you feel
tired, stop. The humming should be done softly, with the throat
relaxed. Let the tones in the voice develop naturally. Don't use
force. The tones must grow, and soon you will feel this growth.
The additional vibrations give the voice edge and carrying power.

In all these exercises, your voice must have the support of the
diaphragm.

Modern playwriting does not demand the vigorous vocal tech'
nique of barnstorming days in the theater. Dramatic denouements
and long speeches are a thing of the past. Today's young player
does not develop his voice in the same manner as did his prede-
cessors, since the present method of speaking dialogue calls only
for simplicity and naturalness.

"Don't act," the player of today is told. As a consequence, in
his effort to mirror naturalism, he underplays and gives a negative
performance. It is vitally important that the audience hear what
the actor has to say. If he were to use the manner of speech of
everyday social conversation (which is natural), he would not be
heard past the first row.

DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE

169

In "Reunion in Vienna," by Robert E. Sherwood, Alfred Lunt as the
gay, dashing Archduke discusses his former sweetheart, Elena (Lynn
Fontanne), with her unromantic doctor husband (Minor Watson).

Shouting will not solve his voice problem. The solution lies in
cultivating the voice, in developing head vibrations to make the
voice sound carry not in an okMashioned voice development but
in the simple, modern way of projecting the voice so that it will
be natural, audible, and clear.

Better Be Yourself

When you start to train your voice, listen to the tones and voice
mannerisms of the great folk of the stage, but don't imitate. Your
best efforts may still fall far short of Ethel Barrymore, but your

170 * DISCOVERING YOUR VOICE

trained voice will be your own, as much a part of you as your head
and shoulders and much more interpretive of your personality.

A long time ago Marc Connelly heard a girl speak a small part
in a play. He listened to her intonation, soft and rich and a little
husky, and to her laugh a sound of pure delight.

Because of her voice, individual and interesting and expressive
of her personality, Mr. Connelly gave the girl the lead in "Dulcy."
She was Lynn Fontanne.

So speak in a way that will express the kind of person you are.
Stage directors agree that even a harsh voice is better than an
artificial one.

IT seems to me that the word "diction" has been mauled about
too much of late. Too many of the voice coaches, even those
who call themselves "tone technicians," are apt to confuse diction
with voice cultivation pitch, tone, and volume.

Others, especially those trained in the Little Red Schoolhouse,
think of diction in terms of elocution, of Cousin Emily on the
school platform reciting "Boots" with appropriate gestures.

Actually, diction isn't voice culture at all; neither is it elocution.
Diction is the most precise of all the stage mechanics that have to
do with speech.

Diction can be defined simply as:

The physical means whereby a word (a symbol to
signify an idea or thought) is carried over to the
listener by the use of lips, tongue, teeth, and jaw.

The mouth is the gateway to sound, and, like a gate, when it is
in use it should be kept open wide enough to function properly.

The jaw muscles are hinges that, in speech, should be well
oiled, or flexible, and under control of the speaker.

The teeth are fences, over (and through) which the breath is
forced into sounds.

172 DICTION

The tongue is the valve that controls the projection of sound.

The lips are the arches through which sound, now formed into
words, is projected.

Correct diction is the art of speaking words so that the jaw,
teeth, lips, and tongue shall assume the right relation one to
another and, so related, best suggest the thought of which the
word is the symbol.

I have said that the jaw (hinges) must be flexible. How to rekx
the jaw, then, shall be our first point of attack.

EXERCISES

1. Yawn slowly. Close the eyes and feel how the deep breath
with which the yawn begins relaxes all the muscles of the jaw.

Just before the yawn breaks, stop, and, instead of yawning,
speak. Say ahhhhhhhh. Draw it out. Repeat this ten times. Keep
at it.

Then yawn again, stop the yawn, and speak. Take full-voweled
monosyllables: won or floor or go or stop or love.

2. Drop the head forward, resting the chin on the chest. Raise
the head, keeping the chin down. Let the mouth fall open.

Place the fingers on either side of the head where the jaws join
and open the mouth quickly.

Now let the mouth fall open in passive surrender. This will
completely rekx the jaw and permit the perfectly modeled and
toned word to leave the mouth.

So much for relaxing the tension of the jaw. Fifteen minutes a
day, please, of actual practice, with the constant thought of
complete passivity of the jaw muscles, will give you the flexibility
you need.

The Tongue

The tongue, the valve of speech, plays a vital part in the pre-
sentation of words. It is a free agent in the modeling of the perfect
word. It also holds the sound in check until time for its projection.
Its action must be agile and spontaneous. The tongue is a bundle
of muscles. The tip is more easily controlled than the back.

DICTION * 173

EXERCISES FOR THE TONGUE

1 . Open the mouth wide. Place the tip of the tongue against the
upper teeth ridge. Let it fall flat to the floor of the mouth. Speed
up the action.

2. Open the mouth wide. Extend the tongue. Move it rapidly
from side to side.

3. Groove the tongue, first by placing the tip against the upper
teeth ridge, then reversing, arching the tongue and placing the tip
against the lower teeth ridge.

4. Combine 1 (the most important consonant in so far as the
tongue is concerned) with a, and repeat the syllable la with
increasing speed to form these groups: la ... la la la ... la la
la ... la ... la.

5. Change the accent over the vowel and repeat the exercise
until all the sounds of a are exhausted in combination with I.

6. Change the vowel and repeat the exercise until all the
vowels have been used in combination with I.

7- Change the consonant to d, then to t, then to n, and repeat
the exercise.

8. Follow these exercises on groups of syllables with work on
groups of words of one syllable, beginning with I, such as late,
lake, lane, lame; last, lack, lank, lapse, kugh; lean, least, leak, leap,
lead.

The Lips in Speech

All word patterns form in the mouth and are controlled by the
position of the tongue and the lips. On some letters the lips come
together; on others, the lower lip presses against the upper teeth;
and on still others, the lips are rounded.

Take the words easily on the lips and let them flow. If you think
of sound beginning in the diaphragm and forming on the lips, you
will keep the throat free of tension. By the time the words have
reached the lips (through the jaw, the teeth, and the tongue) they
are molded. The job of the lips is to eject the words beautifully.

174 DICTION

EXERCISE

Combine the letter m with the vowel e, and let the tone flow
easily on the lips in the repeated syllable me-me-me.

With the same easy gesture of the lips, let out these words:
meal, meek, mean, mound, mere, mill, mighty, make.

Don't Be Afraid to Open Your Mouth

A well-known star, identified with subtle drawing-room-
comedy parts, puts over his comedy by affecting a dead pan
expression. I have never seen one of his performances without
thinking: "For heaven's sake, why doesn't he open his mouth and
speak up P Yet, his particular brand of comedy is distinguished by
that very dead pan look and by vague, mumbling delivery of lines.

I have yet to see the man laugh out loud or speak clearly. His
words seem to escape in spite of him, not because of his will.
It may be that he has some vocal impediment, which for fifteen
years or more he has been able to conceal.

In other words, the actor may have adapted his acting technique
to his impediment, instead of overcoming his handicap to increase
his acting ability. His acting is otherwise flawless; the handling of
his body without fault. Smooth, subtle, sly are some of the words
used to describe his work. He has never, however, been awarded a
medal for good diction.

It is not possible to project lines clearly and effectively when the
face, jaw, and lips remain tense and expressionless. Don't be afraid
to open your mouth!

Words

The spoken word is the physical or outward expression of a
thought. Words in themselves have no real value. It is the
thoughts that radiate through that give them meaning and
direction. To the unimaginative, words mean only the letters
that compose them.

Most people depend entirely on their words to convey their
meanings. It does not occur to them that their speech must be
controlled in accordance with the sense of what they are saying.

The secret of good diction, on the stage or off:

DICTION

175

1. Keep in mind the meaning of the word you are
speaking.

2. Make your voice emphasis match the emphasis of
your words.

3. Pronounce the word accurately.

Develop a curiosity about words. When you hear a new one,
look up the pronunciation in the dictionary. Find out what the
word means and then think what it means to you. \\Tien you use
the word, picture it emotionally before you express it physically.

LIST OF WORDS TO PRACTICE

precedents

mischievous

amanuensis

memorandum

metamorphosis

manifestation

antithesis

laboratory

formidable

pronunciation

vicissitudes

recuperate

appreciative

chicanery

argumentative

argument

accompanist

commendatory

pseudonym

deterioration

sacrilegious

technique

idiosyncrasy

simultaneous

magnanimous

lithographer

psychological

kaleidoscopic

liniment

synopsis

precedence

climactic

immigration

commensurate

poignant

extricate

prognosticate

perspicuity

Orpheus and

Eurydice
Aristophanes
gluttonous
veracious
voracious
connective
antecedent
veterinary
auxiliaries
perennial
commiserate
autobiography
reincarnation

posterity

monologue

irrelevant

dissonant

unostentatious

punctual

pulchritude

avoirdupois

facetious

experiment

boomerang

aggrandisement

ameliorate

jeopardise

daguerreotype

regularly

italics

pumpkin

premature

ingenuous

alumni

attacked

indicative

participle

Socrates said, "Never use a word without seeing in nature that
for which the word stands."

176 DICTION

Word Selection

Words provide the link of communication between men. They
interpret the emotions : love, hate, joy, fear. They inspire man with
hope. They indicate character, for they can brand a man as dis-
honest as well as establish him as great. Words contribute action,
sound, and color to a sentence.

EXAMPLE 1

Marco, Monna Vanna's father-in-law, speaks as she returns
from Prindvalle's tent.

MARCO: Har\, how they shout! . . . The whole palace trembles; the
flowers fall from the vases onto the steps. . . . The very flagstones
seem to be rising beneath us to sweep us along in this overpowering glad-
ness. . . . Ah, I begin to see. . . . They are close to the gates' The
crowd divides. . . .

Words are made up of vowels and consonants. Vowel sounds
are like flesh and blood to a word. They give life, richness, and
color. They may be warm and sensuous or soft and musical.

The consonants are the bones of a word. They contribute struc-
ture and form, power and strength.

The vowels are a, e, i, o, u. There are also vowel sounds known
as diphthongs such as eu, as in new, oi, as in bojy, m, as in my.
All vowels are sounded.

Consonants are divided into two classes: fricatives, which
means breathed or unvocalised consonants, and voiced consonants.

The fricatives are h, , /, t, \, w> $.

The voiced consonants are b, d, 2, g, m, n, I, j, ng, r, w, v.

The vowels have three positions in the mouth, and each position
depends upon the position of the tongue. The tongue is a bundle
of muscles. The tip is more easily controlled than the back. The
three vowel sounds are FRONT VOWEL, MID^VOWEL, and BACK VOWEL.

1 From "Monna Vanna," by Maurice Maeterlinck. Used by permission of Dodd, Mead
& Company, Inc., and George Allen & Unwin, Ltd.

DICTION 177

Front Vowels

E (long, as in me), i (short, as in is), e (short, as in let), e (short, as
in where), a (as in at), diphthong ai (as in my).

In sounding the FRONT VOWELS, the back of the tongue is held
high in the mouth close to the hard palate; the tip rests against the
lower teeth ridge.

With your mirror, practice these words with front vowel
sounds: aim, my, mean, seem, keen, late, ache, ail, meal, feel, steal,
lie, fill, belt, felt, friend, hand, band, matter.

Repeat these sentences with the thought always of putting the
vowel forward:

My friend danced easily and well.

It feels like rain.

Mid-vowels

The mid-vowels are i (as in girl), a (as in dlone), o (as in love).
In making the mid-vowels, the tongue should be as relaxed as
possible, the tip lightly touching the lower teeth ridge. The soft
palate raised and the vocal cords in vibration. While the tongue
is relaxed, open the mouth and make a soft vocal sound. It will
sound like ith, or something like a grunt. This is called a neutral or
indefinite sound.

Words with mid" vowels to practice with your mirror: girl,
glove, bird, cult, dirt, flirt, curve, above, alert, muff, cuff, curl.

The girl dropped her glove in the dirt.

The alert bird gets the worm.

Back Vowels

The back vowels are u (as in who), u (as in could), o (as in
blow), a (as in water), o (as in on), a (as in father).

In making the back vowel sound, the back of the tongue is
raised high in the mouth with the tip lightly touching the lower
teeth ridge.

178 DICTION

Words to practice with your mirror: moon, plume, loom, roof,
would, room, smooth, pool, school, fool, bloom, flute, cool, glue,
blow, float, clue.

The moon on the schoolroom roof.

The fruit of the loom is smooth.

Always use your mirror in practicing these vowel sounds so
that you may become familiar with them and their positions in
your mouth.

Front Mid Bac\

Say a uh oo

Bad{ Mid Front

oo uh a

May loves you. You love May.

Diphthong Vowels

A diphthong is the combination or blending of two vowel
sounds.

Long a, as in mafye, is the combination of short e, as in get, plus
short i, as in pin, or ei.

Short e, as in prey, is the combination of e, as in met, plus short i,
as in pin, or ei.

Long i sound, as in isle, is the combination of a, as in father,
plus short i, as in pin, or ai.

y sound, as in my, is the combination of a, as in father, plus short
f, as in pin, or ai.

Long o sound, as in oar, is the combination of o, as in obey, plus
oo, as in spool, or ou.

oi or oy sound, as in boy or oil, is the combination of a, as in
awful, plus short i, as in pin, or awi.

Consonants

Next to the vowels, the nasal consonants, n, m, and ng have
the most resonant sound. When properly made, they have a
sustained, musical quality. In making these sounds, the throat
should be free and the soft palate relaxed. Combine the m and

DICTION - 179

n with front vowel sounds to get the tone forward : nail, Ned, net.
nigh, might, knee, Neal, neck, mail, my, met, me, meal, mine.

Always give full value to the ending, ng. Singing, bringing,
changing, playing, ring, king, bang, rang, fling, shining, humming,
dancing. The effect should be almost like a humming sound-
To gain freedom from throat constriction and control of breath,
practice the LABIODENTALS, / and v. Labiodental really means with
the lip against the teeth, and in this case it is the lower one that
works. The breath pressing against the upper teeth ridge past the
lower lip brings the tone forward.

The / is a light and delicate sound, whereas the r, if sustained,
has a musical quality.

Practice these words before the mirror: fifth, favorite, muffin,
affable, fox, shuffle, baffle, offer, cuff, ruffle, muffle, calf, shovel,
rival, savor, carve, very, loved, shelved, cover, leave, drivel, vow.

The postdentals, r and I, give a legato effect that can be beauti'
ful if pronounced correctly. In forming the I sound, the tip of the
tongue touches the front upper teeth ridge, the breath passes on
either side of the slightly upraised tongue. Be careful not to say el.

The I sound has two principal forms: CLEAR and DARK.

The clear J occurs initially or after initial consonant, as in little
or glide.

The dark I is used finally, as in puIZ, or before the final consonant,
as in bold.

In pronouncing both the clear I and the dark I, the tip of the
tongue is pressed against the upper teeth ridge. Only the back of
the tongue changes position.

In using the clear I, the back of the tongue curves downward.

Examples of clear I: lady, let, lake, slide, lilt, ply, climb, fly,
link, blight, flight.

In forming the dark I, the back of the tongue is raised toward
the soft palate. Care must be taken not to add another vowel
sound in going from the preceding vowel sound to the consonant.
Do not say

180 DICTION

Examples of dar^ I: Pull, all, ball, lull, bold, fold, molt, malt,
fault, scald.

There is also an INVERTED I, which is formed with the tip of the
tongue turned inward toward the soft palate. In forming this
retroflex or inverted 1, there is danger of constricting the throat
and thus producing a nasal sound.

Examples of inverted I: stifled, bottle, single, battle, cattle,
bangle.

Repeat these sentences: The lonely lady loved the lilies.
Linger a little longer.

The letter r, like 1, has a legato quality and should always be
formed forward in the mouth. In forming the r, the underside of
the tip of the tongue should be near enough to the lower teeth
ridge so that the escaping air produces a slight murmur. The rest
of the tongue should be relaxed. Watch that the r is not back in
the throat and that the throat muscles are relaxed; otherwise the
tone will become guttural or inverted.

Practice these words: glorious, rarely, ring, rich, mirror, marry,
fairly, barricade, paradise, paramount, caring, starry, parent.

Practice speaking the bilabial consonants, w and w\ to develop
a forward tone. When the lips are well rounded, the tone will
come forward automatically.

Practice the following words before a mirror: why, whither,
whirr, war, wow, whoa, whale, quick, queer, where, whip, white,
whisper. The effect is that of a slight whistle through rounded
lips. It is controlled by the diaphragm.

Dental Sibilants and Affricates

A fricative consonant sound is produced by friction of breath
through a narrow aperture. P, b, t, i^are fricatives, sometimes also
called plosives.

A sibilant or spirant is s or z.

An affricate is a combination of a fricative, such as J^, t, p, b,
with a breathed consonant, as h, /, t, th, or a spirant, as z or s.

DICTION 181

Examples: widths, fourteenths, sixth, tacks, snacks, knocks,
bricks, sinks, books, bobs, nuts, beats, stoops, loops, fifths, tasks,
tastes, frosts, tracks.

In forming the sibilants and affricates, the tongue should not
remain flat in the mouth, nor should it protrude between the
teeth. There should be a narrow groove on either side of the
tongue so that a thin stream of air, controlled by the diaphragm,
can pass.

Don't prolong these sounds. Make them clear, distinct, and
brief. In radio or microphone work the sibilants should be partic-
ularly watched. Otherwise there is an unpleasant hissing sound.

The dental consonants, or the th sound, are a difficult combina-
tion, too often slighted. The tip of the tongue touches the upper
ridges of the teeth, and the air escapes on either side of the tongue.

Particular attention should be paid to the dental endings, as in:
twelfth, mouth, fourth, heath, sheath, wreath, breath, health,
earth, birth, ninth. Be careful in giving these endings full value
not to add a vowel sound, as fourth-a, or twelfth- a.

A word can be broken down and analysed to find its meaning
and inflection just as a word can be analysed to find its relation-
ship to the rest of a sentence.

For instance, in saying the word "ring," the first two letters,
ri, are subordinated to the ng sound, which gives it meaning and
carrying power. In the word "smooth," the back vowel oo sound
gives the word meaning. An understanding of these word sounds
will greatly improve your diction.

Always be sure your vowels produce clear sounds. Say o, not
oah.

Avoid adding diphthong sounds, such as feeid for /eel, re-ul
for red.

THE ALPHABET WIRED FOR SOUND

a (ah) back vowel

b bilabial (breath emitted between lips)

c sibilant s (and front vowel, e)

182 DICTION

d dental consonant, tongue against upper teeth ridge

e front vowel

/ fricative consonant (breathed)

g nasal consonant

h breathed consonant (sometimes called voiceless vowel)

; pronounced short (mid-vowel), pronounced long (ai) (front vowel)

i nasal consonant g combined with long a

}{ fricative breathed consonant

/ postdental

m nasal consonant

n nasal consonant

o back vowel

p breathed (fricative) consonant

q combination fricative \ sound and eu, diphthong

r lateral consonant

s sibilant

t fricative (breathed consonant)

u back vowel

r labial consonant

w labial consonant (fricative)

x combination front vowel e . . . fricative J^ . . . sibilant s

y diphthong oo plus long i

z sibilant

Where Are You From, Stranger?

One needn't travel abroad to fill his ears with strange accents.
Almost any section of the United States has some distinguishing
quality of speech that sets it apart from its neighbor. The West-
erner flattens his d and sounds his r harshly; his is a flat voice.
But listen to your New England friends sometimes or even to the
velvet-voiced Southerner, and you will hear a speech as flat as a
wind-swept desert.

The dry-spoken Yankee from down east has tight jaw muscles,
they say, whereas those of the girl from Georgia are lax; she's too
indolent to work her tongue. Wherever we live, we imitate the
sound patterns we are accustomed to hearing. Until professional
training develops our critical sense, most of us do not bother to

DICTION ' 183

analy2 the sounds we make when we talk. \Ve are too busy
making ourselves understood.

The ability to speak dialect perfectly is part of the equipment
of any player, provided the dialect isn't part of his natural voice.

Tallulah Bankhead, a Southerner by birth, lost her Southern
accent, achieved a British drawl while playing in London, conp
bined the two into a soft, full, natural American voice, and, years
later, on starring in "The Little Foxes," reverted to her Southern
voice. But the "below'the'line" accent was a stage mechanic, not
a natural contribution.

Helen Claire, the original Cindy Lou Bethany of Clare Booth's
"Kiss the Boys Goodbye," went through somewhat the same
experience. Before she had a chance to use her Alabama accent on
Broadway, she had to lose it, acquire a nonaccented radio voice
for fashion commenting on the air, and, later, go back to the
deep South for the Booth play.

EXAMPLES OF EFFECTIVE USE OF DIALECT
IN STAGE PLAYS

Western. The cowboy moving picture star in fc "Boy Meets Girl": 1
"Just because I don't get Gable's fan mail don't mean I ain't got his
following. A lot of gals that want to write me ain't never learned how."

Nfw Tor\ Slums. The street kid in "Dead End": 2

"Yeah. Ony we didn' have money enough fun de license. Gee, it
seems like yestiddy. We wuz; talkin' about it right heah. And Marty
was boined wid acid and tings."

}Jew England. The New Englander Zeena in "Ethan Frome": 3
" 'Taint right I sh'd have to keep on doin' everythin' myself. I'm begin'
nin' to wonder if she's wuth it."

Jvjegro in "Porgy" by Du Bose Heyward: 4 "I hyuh say he gits good
money fiim de w'ite folks. If he aint't lookin' at de rollin* bones, he
always gots eye on de women.

1 "Boy Meets Girl," by Sam and Bella Spewack. Reprinted by courtesy of Random
House.

2 "Dead End," by Sidney Kingsley. Reprinted by courtesy of Random House.

3 "Ethan Frome," a dramatisation of Edith Wharton's novel, by Owen and Donald
Davis, Charles Scribners Sons.

4 George H. Doran Company,

184 ' DICTION

"Yuh po" ole wall-eyed, sof 'headed grarf daddy! Aint't yuh shame tuh
set dey befo' me, an"* talk sweet mouth' 'bout dat murderin' Crown's
Bess? JEf I wuss yo age an 'er man, Td sabe my sof wo'd fer de Gawd-
farin' ladies."

Speaking the King's English

Once in a while you hear a story about a young American
actress who rises to fame because she has had London Academy
of Dramatic Art training or experience on the English stage.

The secret, so the story goes, is that she has been given the
part because of her English accent.

I'm not so sure about that. Although her superior training in
diction has undoubtedly contributed to her value as an actress,
you would be very likely to find, on further investigation, that
her decent had comparatively little to do "with the selection. AJI
English accent can be adopted by any experienced player, just as a
Southern or Italian or French accent can be assumed. It's as much
a feature of playing the part as make-up or body movements.

But the diction the physical means by which the words,
whether they are spoken in the King's English or the President's,
are projected that's the stage mechanic with which we are now
immediately concerned.

My advice to the American actor is: Speak the American
language and speak it clearly, distinctly, and unaffectedly. "Bean"
for "been" and "cawn't" for "can't" won't fool any producer
into believing that you've had ten years' experience at the Drury
Lane.

J\eleasing ike ^motions

I

HAVE said that there are three kinds of stage mechanics:

1. Physical mechanics

Body movements

Hands

Eyes

Voice

Make-up

Sense of location

2. Mental mechanics

Imagination
Observation
Thought

3. Emotional mechanics

Stimulus

Impression

Effect

The physical mechanics we have developed in detail in the
foregoing chapters. Now we come to the development of the more
sensitive inner mechanics, the working of the mind and emotion,

186 ' RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

which are given outward expression by use of the physical
mechanics.

Does that sound mysterious? It shouldn't. Because there is no
excuse for enshrouding the mental and emotional mechanics with
a veil of mystery. They are just as much a part of the actor's
technique as the use of his voice or hands. And their use can be
developed by practical application of rules, just as the voice can
be trained or the body taught grace.

What Is Genius?

Sometimes you hear a critic speak of the work of an actor as
"magic." (Actors use the term, too.) Unfortunate word, magic,
since it leaves the reader or listener with the mistaken idea that
the actor has simply stood still and, without any personal effort,
waited for some bolt from the blue to give him this magical
quality that lends beauty and truth to his acting. They say the
actor has genius.

I do not like that word genius.

The lack of it is too easy an excuse for failing, if you haven't
succeeded, and its presence is too good an ego mechanism for
explaining the success of your career, if you do get on. I don't
know why any man or woman who has worked hard at his job
should not admit that whatever he has achieved in the way of
stage success is due to his own hard work and application of
technique rather than to a magical dispensation of providence.

Til say., then, that genius, if there is such a thing, is the capacity
for learning how to do a thing and then doing it well. More success-
ful stage careers have been built on intelligence and application
than by listening to the magic voice of genius.

Emotional Response

In this day of surface living, there isn't much time in private
life for personal development of our emotional reactions. The
radio and motion pictures have taken the place of the home
entertainment we enjoyed when we had to depend on ourselves
for amusement.

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS ' 187

In the evening after dinner our friends dropped in. Someone
played the piano (usually very badly); someone else sang (often
off key); and another told stories. The performances were not
professional, but they were spontaneous, and they offered a kind
of self-development that is now missing from our busy lives.

Today we let someone else provide the amusement. Why sit
at home every night for a week and read Les Miserables when it is
playing at a movie around the corner in an eighty-minute version?

Why learn to sing "Roses of Picardy* 1 when we can turn on the
radio and hear Lawrence Tibbett sing it perfectly?

And why try to tell stories when the newspaper columnists
have a daily quota of good ones?

The trouble with this kind of reasoning is obvious. We are
contributing nothing of ourselves, and we are not developing
our emotions through talk and song and behavior. To be a good
storyteller, one must use voice, expression, and gesture. To play
and sing (even badly) gives freedom of expression and emotional
release.

Emotions, if not used, wither and die. We may feel deeply, but
unless we exercise this feeling when it comes to us, through outside
stimulus, and then release it through speech, gesture, or expression,
we have lost the actor's greatest opportunity: to impress his audience
with what he feels through what he things, does, and says.

Thought and Emotion

Thought and emotion the mental and emotional mechanics
are interrelated.

Thought is a concept or judgment produced by sober reflection;
Emotion is the power by which a thought is forcefully impressed
upon the minds of an audience.

Emotional spontaneity the high energy by which an actor
gets over to his audience the thing that is uppermost in his mind
and heart, is the quality that all performers strive for and that
they achieve to a greater or less degree, depending upon how and
how hard they work for it.

188 RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

It is effort, not fundamental qualifications, that produces this
emotional energy. It can be yours if you try for it.

Intake and Outgo

In order to make clear to you the process by which an actor
receives impressions, makes them his own, and then passes them
on to his audience, I have prepared a chart:

1. Intake of impulses (emotional) : taking in of sense impressions
of sight, taste, smell, sound, touch.

2. Wording stage (mental) : the period in which the impression
is kept in the mind, studied, analysed, and made our own in
reverie. The memory and imagination are called into use in
this stage.

3. Outgo of impulses (emotional and mental): the giving out
of impressions through the physical mechanics: eyes, hands,
body, voice.

Every Thought and Emotion Has an Outer
or Physical Sign of Expression

For instance, if our bodies can express utter despair or buoyant
joy without words, then it follows that the ability to act depends
greatly on the development of body response. There must be
coordination of mind and body.

There is no set expression for any given emotion, nor is there
one physical move for its expression. The actor has to depend on
his discretion and control to make just the right move at the
right moment. By bringing his imagination into play, he will be
able to create many varieties of movement to cover one situation.

Examples: You are greeting a friend. You wave your hand,
using a broad gesture. (You are warmly attached to this friend,
and the degree of your attachment is shown through the warmth
of your gesture.)

You are greeting a casual acquaintance. This time your gesture
is restrained. You simply lift the hand.

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

189

In Philip Barry's "The Philadelphia Story," Katharine Hepburn, as the
youthful, headstrong Tracy Lord, turns the tables by interviewing
the skeptical young newspaper man (Van Heflin) who has been sent
to interview her. (Courtesy of Theatre Guild.)

You are a public character driving through a city, acknowledg-
ing the plaudits of the crowd. You do not use a broad gesture;
you do not wave; you incline your head and smile.

Sense Impressions

The essence of acting is emotional expression. Since the actor
cannot by voice alone convey the dramatic message of an entire
play, he must help the interpretation by creating sense impres-
sions. The audience has no means of looking into the character's
mind; it must react to what it sees and hears.

By his very presence on the stage, the actor is creating a sense
impression. The audience watches hi (sight), listens to him
(sound). When the actor tastes an apple and makes a wry face,

190 RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

the audience knows the apple is sour. When he picks up a hot
iron, it winces with him. When he smells a flower, it responds by
his response.

Example: In "The Gentle People," when Franchot Tone
brought orchids to Sylvia Sidney, the audience knew by his
eloquent disgust that orchids have no odor.

These small bits of business correspond to paragraphs of
descriptive material in a book. The reader of the book is able to
enter the character's mind, to know the pain of the hot iron, how
large a blister it raised, the shock it gave the nervous system. But
the actor has no time for this explanation. The play must go on,
and so, by one brief, concentrated movement, the actor must
convey the impression of pain and shock and, at the same time,
hint at the consequences of the accident.

An actor must recognise an emotion before he can hope to
interpret it. For instance, on playing the part of a murderer,
although he may not actually feel the impulse to murder, yet at
some time, either during rehearsal or while studying the part,
he must reach a sympathetic understanding (through his imagina-
tion) of the motive that prompted the character to commit
murder.

When Katharine Cornell played Shirley Pride in "The Way
Things Happen," she said she believed in the girl's peculiar
psychology. In other words, the actress sympathised with the
girl's problem and understood her behavior.

But so tense was the action required to make the character
credible that Miss Cornell found herself burned up emotionally.
After a while she acquired a technique that enabled her to take
the crashing scenes without flaying herself to pieces.

To anyone new at the business, the striving for strong emotional
interpretation is an exhausting task. Only when the actor learns
to project or give out the emotion to his audience, through physical
behavior and voice., instead of allowing it to remain within him,
thereby consuming him, is he able to make the most of his
tional effect.

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS ' 191

Emotions Expressed through Behavior

Each human being has a way of expressing what he feels
through physical behavior, no matter how feeble the expression
may be. In some of us the signs are weak and restrained. Often
a shy person is intense and highly sensitive, but, because of lack
of social contact, communication of thought, interchange of
ideas and opinions, he has never had occasion to give expression
to his emotional capacities.

In others, the expression is overdone and superficial. The
smooth actor with surface cleverness may have no difficulty in
expressing himself through behavior, but in most cases there will
be no real meaning behind his speech and actions.

Most of our best performers come from the first class. If the
capacity for emotion is there, it can usually be developed.

To the new actor, then, comes the problem of regulating or
developing his expression of emotion. If he is restricted, his
expression must be made to flow freely. If he is too vigorous, his
output must be regulated and controlled.

Whatever he does must be his own expression. It is seldom
that two people react exactly the same way under the same
circumstances. The reaction to an elementary emotion such as
fear, anger, hate, love will differ by degree of the character's
background and training.

EXAMPLES
1. Fear

In time of disaster at sea, the ship's disciplined officers and crew
are controlled and calm, whereas the passengers are usually dis-
orderly. This doesn't mean that the officers are inwardly calm.
Background and custom have made them that way. Soldiers in
battle may be paralysed with fright, but they advance because
of duty and training.

Fear is a defensive emotion. It may paralyze one man and cause
another to run. We cringe, huddle, hold our hands to our body
for protection. The impulse is to withdraw. Yet at times fear

192 RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

paralyses the faculties, denying the power of movement. Fear
may hold one fascinated, without the power of thought, as in the
case of a man in a forest taken unawares by and unprepared for a
wild beast.

Although the natural physical reaction to fear is nausea, in-
creased breathing, and heart action, many who have faced great
fear say they felt nothing at all. They were beyond feeling.

The expression of our fear, then, is regulated by the kind of
person we are.

2. Anger

When we experience anger, a muscular and glandular activity
takes place. The jaw muscles tighten, preventing clear speech;
the eyes flash or dilate, the mouth trembles or is set tightly.
Color rushes to the face. The fists clench. The entire body is
charged with vibration. Anger is an offensive impulse. We are
prompted to strike out.

Yet anger on the stage may be expressed in a variety of ways.
One character may lose control of himself, rage and storm and
smash things; another may remain outwardly calm, controlling
his rage. None of the outer physical signs will betray his fury,
except perhaps a very slight twitch of the lip. His voice will
remain steady and cold as he warns his aggressor that some day
he will pay for this. His anger becomes the more deadly and
sinister, for he has diverted his emotions into an objective plan
revenge.

3. Love

The expression of love depends on sex, age, background, and
relationship.

In "Cyrano de Bergerac," love takes the form of supreme
sacrifice as Cyrano writes passionate love letters to Roxanne for
the dull, handsome Christian.

In "Monna Vanna," Guido, Vanna's husband, goes into a
jealous rage when she announces her intention of going to
Prindvalle^s tent to intercede for her people.

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS ' 193

The mellow love-making of middle-aged Peter Stuyvesant
(Walter Huston) in "Knickerbocker Holiday" does not attract
Trina as does the more exciting love of impetuous young
Broek.

In defending her child, a mother becomes fierce in her love.
Fear and defiance are mingled with it. Love of an ideal makes men
risk loss of friendship. Love of a country turns men into killers.
The hardest criminal may love his mother.

The same emotions (disappointment or excitement, for example)
may be expressed in a variety of ways, just as different emotions
(joy and grief) may be expressed in the same manner.

Disappointment crushes and defeats one man. To another it
acts as a challenge. Instead of slumping, hanging his head, allow-
ing his body to express defeat, he straightens his shoulders,
pushes out his chin, and looks up. He rises even stronger than
before.

Excitement confuses one woman. She moves about agitatedly,
mislaying things, forgetting what she wanted to do, talking in a
high, rapid voice, while her husband, equally excited but con-
trolled, follows her around picking up the things she drops.

Excitement may be conveyed by a catch in the voice or a gleam
in the eye.

The act of crying expresses joy, relief, excitement just as ef-
fectively as it expresses grief and sorrow. Laughter covers disap-
pointment, embarrassment, and grief.

Emotions are so closely related that it is possible to feel more
than one at a time. For instance, we are delighted to get a part,
but we pity the other actor who has been rejected. We are happy
to be going away but hate to leave our friends behind. Someone
gives us a present that is utterly useless and ridiculous, but we
are moved by the thought.

It has been said in anger; "I could kill you for doing that, but
I adore you."

The exasperated mother who punishes her child does so because
she loves it.

194 RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

Transition of Emotions

Delsarte once said, "There is not a pleasure which is not
followed by disappointment or satiety; not a joy which does not
entail some trouble, not an affection which does not conceal some
bitterness, some grief and often some remorse."

When one emotion follows another, sweeping him from the
heights to the depths in a few short seconds, the actor must be
able to blend the emotions. To get a smooth transition he must
understand the inner moods of the character. To express these
moods he should always remember that expression precedes
gesture, and gesture precedes speech. Emotion incites movement;
speech labels the movement.

EXAMPLES OF TRANSITION
Scene from "Seventh Heaven" loy Austin Strong 1

After a tender love scene in which Chico and Diane marry
themselves, Diane follows Chico to the door as he leaves for war.

CHICO

No. No. Stand still. Don't move. I want to see you last like this. Let
me fill my eyes with you. I shall come to you each morning at this hour.
Every day you will feel me here with you. (He tries to laugh and turns
away) Au revoir Heaven I (He exits quictyy, closing the door)

Diane stands very still. Her mood is tender and loving; she
has just been married. She goes to the door dreamily and leans
against it, her whole mood and posture expressive of ecstatic
happiness. Slowly the door opens, disclosing her bullying and
brutal sister Nana, who is obviously drunk and in an ugly mood.

DIANE
(Stiffens with terror and cries out in alarm) Nana . . . you're ill!

1 "Seventh Heaven," by Austin Strong. Copyright, 1922, by Austin Strong and John
Golden. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of S?miu>T French.

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS 195

Scene from "Ethan Fromc" 1

In "Ethan Frome," Zeena (Pauline Lord) is pleasantly teasing
Mattie about Denis, a neighbor, who is obviously interested in
Mattie. Quite unconsciously, Mattie reveals her growing interest
in Ethan, Zeena's husband.

ZEENA
Paupers can't be choosey, Mattie.

MATTIE

Oh, Tin not choosey . . . Zeena . . . honest Tm not. (She chuc\ks
at the thought of Denis) Like I was say-in" to Ethan only kst night ... I
says, nobody ain't never asked me yet, I said, and he said, if he wasn't
married he might ask me himself ... so 'course I said, saym' that don't
mean anythin' . . . But still'n all, I says, it's real nice of you to say it
. . . and it was, too, wasn't it?

Zeena sits up rigidly in the bed, her friendly attitude changing
rapidly to one of jealous anger. Mattie glances at her, suddenly
terrified. Zeena stops eating and pushes the tray away from her.
She stares at Mattie with hatred.

{[Transition from happiness to fear to great surprise]
MATTIE

It ain't right to talk like this, Ethan. . . . It's awful interestin ,
though. . . . (She hears the distant sound of a dog howling and clings to
Ethan, frightened) What's that?

ETHAN

Nothin\

MATTIE

Was it a fox?

ETHAN

No. It was just a dog howling.

1 "Ethan Frome," a dramatisation of Edith Wharton's novel, by Owen and Donald
Davis, Charles Scribner's Sons.

196 ' RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

MATTIE
A dog. That means death, don't it? ... I ain't superstitious, but . . .

ETHAN

Then it don't mean nothin'. . . . Besides, you have to hear a dog
howl twice; and even then 'tain't sure!

MATTIE

Maybe it won't be fifty years, Ethan! (They move toward the house.
Sudden Mattie stops and exclaims unth great surprise) Ethan . . . look!
The house is dark!

EXERCISES

These exercises will give you an imagination test, followed by
a test of your ability to project your imagination through body
actions.

I.Joy

Imagine that the telegram just received says you have inherited
enough money to take you around the world a cruise of which
you have always dreamed! Let animated joy flow through you.
Laugh, dance; let the mood of happiness carry you along.

2. Fear

Imagine an air raid. The sound of the airplanes drones above
your house. Bombs burst in the street. The smell of poison gas
fills your room. You look frantically for means of escape. You are
overcome and sink to the floor.

Now sit down and write three examples. Create little comedies
or dramas from your imagination. Then act them. Try different
ways of expressing each emotion.

3. Sorrow

Imagine that someone dear to you is dead. The shock has been
great. Let your. body slump slowly and shake with violent
sobbing.

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS " 197

4. Anger

Imagine that someone has deliberately smashed a beautiful
and expensive watch that you treasure. Stamp your foot in anger.
Breathe rapidly and pace up and down. Develop the mood.

5. Annoyance

You are dressing to go out. It is already quite late. It is your
first engagement with a new friend. The doorbell rings. You run
to answer it. A friend of the family is there. She is not only a
colossal bore but extremely inquisitive. You try in your most
subtle manner to convey to her that you must be going, that you
can't spare another minute, but she sits down, removes her
wraps, and makes herself comfortable.

6. Embarrassment

You are packing to go away. Clothes, trunks, boxes, and
packages litter every chair in the room. In your old clothes you
couldn't possibly look worse. The bell rings. At the door you find
someone whom you have been trying very hard to impress.

7- Surprise

You are feeling very lonely and wondering what has become
of a dear friend. You haven't heard from him for years. You
think how wonderful it would be to see him once more. The
doorbell rings! You answer it, and there stands your friend!

The blending of mental and emotional energy with physical
action, or technique, is the most difficult accomplishment in all art,
and in proportion to an artistes ability to do this is his greatness.
It is our sensitivity that directs our acting interpretation and
hooks up the mental or inner side of acting with the outward or
physical side. This sensitivity gives us discretion and judgment
in timing, both in speech, gesture, and action; it tells us the
appropriateness of a gesture. It gives us insight into character
and tells us why certain people react in certain ways.

198 RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

Sensitivity is the lin\ between the outer physical action and the
inner emotion. It determines our degree of responsiveness. Emotion
without control loses its power. Our sensitivity acts as a chec\.

The imagination and the senses work in unison. The develop-
ment of one helps the other. All great performers possess delicate,
controlled sensitivity. Although you may possess a natural
sensitivity, practical training will intensify it.

We all know that our senses require some stimulation from
without to make them active. In order to appreciate a beautiful
scene to its fullest, we must be able to observe it. We open our
ears and enjoy a symphony. We inhale the delicate perfume of a
flower. Our sense of touch depends on our contact with the
object. The taste of a ripe peach lingers on our tongue.

Yet this same stimulation may be aroused within us without
benefit of close contact. We can, by imagination, see something
in our mind's eye and recall from memory any sense. We can
exercise our senses by calling upon our imagination.

The Mechanics of Emotion

There are three stages of emotion: stimulus, impression, and
outer effect. Before we can feel an emotion there must be an either
real or imagined stimulus. Suppose an actor is given a part he
longs to play (stimulus). He is delighted. Here is his opportunity
at last (impression). His face radiates. He thanks the producer,
assures him he will make good (outer effect).

The actor can also stimulate the emotions by imagination.

Example: Suppose we are thinking about nothing in particular.
From nowhere an idea comes to us that we are catching cold
(cause the imagined idea has alarmed you). Maybe I had better
take some medicine, you think (the thought has made an impres'
sion upon you). You go to the medicine cabinet and anxiously
search for pills (this is the effect of the imagined cause that you are
catching cold).

This is the simple process of all emotional behavior, whether
on the stage or in real life, and the stage is merely a copy of real

RELEASING THE EMOTION'S 199

life. To the actor who has an understanding of this principle of
analysis, every piece of action will be clear.

Since the actor cannot always have a tangible stimulus, he must
exercise his emotions through his imagination and memory. For
instance, the prop orchids that Franchot Tone smelled in the
"Gentle People" may have been made of cotton or paper, but
through his memory, which tells him that orchids have no odor,
he projected the sense impression to the audience. The degree
of his disgust was determined by his added comment (charac-
teristic of the cheap, sporty gangster) of how much the flowers
cost.

EXAMPLES OF EMOTIONAL PROCESS
Scene from "My Ladys Dress" by Edward Knoblod{ 1

Anita, a beautiful new model, is being detained after store
hours by Jacquelin, designer and store owner, as punishment for
snubbing the attention of an important patron. Anita is upset
because she wishes to be home in time to see the doctor who is
calling upon her sick mother. The shop is deserted except for
Anita and Jacquelin, who is called to answer the telephone just
beyond the black velvet curtains of the models' 1 dressing room.

Already beside herself, Anita hears Jacquelin say over the
telephone:

JACQUELIN

Hullo! Hullo! Yes. Oh, it's you, Tommie, dear boy! Go to one of the
Halls tonight? Awf ly sorry. No, I can't. Got to work and more besides.
Usual thing. Pulling one of my girls into shape. Obstreperous? Yes, a bit.
They're all like that at first, poor darlings! Same old story. Yes. All pay
and no work. Must get home. Dying mother and all that!

ANITA
(Breathless with indignation) Mr. Jacquelin!

1 "My Lady's Dress," by Edward Knoblock. Copyright, 1911, 1916, by Edward Knob
lock. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Samuel French.

200 RELEASING THE EMOTIONS
JACQUELIN

(Into telephone) What? Yes! Ha! Ha! Of course! Ma's real name's Algy
or Reggie, of course. And she's waiting in some private bar off Leicester
Square with a waxed moustache and a five'shilling piece! Yes! Ha! Ha!

ANITA

(Trembling with rage) Mr. Jacquelin! . . . YouVe no right! . . .
My mother! . . .

JACQUELIN

(Into telephone) What do you say? Yes, yes. Only a matter of a week or
so, and shell be eating out of my hand. What? Certainly. Pass her on to
you? Certainly. Whenever you like. Ta, ta, old boy. Sorry. Bless you!

Anita loses complete control over herself as she thinks of her
desperately sick mother, remembers the other model's advice that
nothing can be gained by defying Jacquelin. She remembers his
taunts earlier in the evening that he will break her spirit, that
if she leaves this job she won't get another because he will not
give her references. Her eyes fall upon a large pair of dressmaker's
scissors. Suddenly, as Jacquelin stops his conversation and starts
to return to her, she opens the scissors, plunges one blade through
the curtain. The scissors stick there. Anita stands horrified, her
hands to her mouth. From behind the curtain comes one short
cry!

In this scene the stimulus or motive for the stabbing is the
telephone conversation that Anita overhears, combined with
Jacquelin's earlier taunting. Her anxiety for her mother's welfare
increases with the fear of losing her job if she doesn't comply
with the bullying Jacquelin (impression). She sees the scissors
and resolves to stab him. She plunges the knife through the
curtain and kills him (effect or physical action).

Scene from "Seventh Heaven^ by Austin Strong 1

Diane, oppressed and beaten by her sister Nana, becomes
enraged when Nana tears away the medal from Diane's neck

1 From "Seventh Heaven," by Austin Strong. Copyright, 1922, by Austin Strong and
John Golden. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Samuel French.

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS 201

(symbolic of a wedding ring). This is stimulus or motive for her
action. Diane, who has become fearless through her love for Chico,
realizes that now she is stronger than her bullying sister. She
becomes defiant (impression caused by Xana's treatment of the
medal). She grabs the whip away from Nana and strikes her
(action or effect).

Memory

Memory is not restricted to the faculty of retaining words; there
is memory through the senses of all the organs in the body. Memory
includes all the sense faculties of sight, hearing, smell, touch, and
taste.

We recognise a melody because it has lingered in our memory.
If we pick up a telephone and hear a snarling sound, we quickly
put the receiver aw^ay. We remember the earache we suffered the
last time we glued the receiver to our ears. If we are standing near
a firecracker that is on the verge of explosion, we put our hands
over our ears or retreat.

We imagine things in the present because we recall them from
the past. Without memory we could form no comparisons, reason,
or judgment. If we are exhausted and weary, we recall a soft
couch on which we would like to rest. When we are hot and
parched, we imagine ourselves sitting in the shade with a long,
cool drink. If we are hungry, we imagine the gustatory pleasures
of a thick, juicy steak. We know that bees sting, glass cuts, fire
bums, because at some time in our life we have experienced or
seen someone experience these effects.

Observation

Observation is accurate spot news. It is factual knowledge that
we gain by watching. It stimulates the imagination and makes us
participate rather than remain passive. We see and form our own
opinions instead of accepting the opinions of others.

The richness of detail with which the actor recalls sight impres-
sions and conveys them through tone and gesture to the audience

202 ' RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

makes his performance a vital and glowing thing. Instead of merely

repeating dialogue, he is able to give the words depth and reality.

The following scene from "Idiot's Delight/ 1 by Robert E.

Sherwood, suggests that Irene is recalling a vivid sight impression.

EXAMPLES OF SIGHT
Scene from "Idiot's Delight" by Robert E. Sherwood 1

IRENE

It was! But I shall be forever grateful to them . . . those Tommies.
They saved my life when I escaped from the Soviets. For days and nights
... I don't know how many ... I was driving through the snow . . .
snow . . . snow . . . snow ... in a little sleigh, with the body of
my father beside me, and the wolves running along like an escort of
dragoons. You know . . . you always think of wolves as howling
constantly, don't you?

MRS. CHERRY

Please! I know you don't want to talk about it any more.

IRENE

Oh, no ... it is so far away now. But I shall never forget the
moment when I came through the ha2 of delirium, and saw the faces
of those Tommies . . . those simple, friendly faces. And the snow . . .
the wolves . . , and the terrible cold . . . they were all gone . . .
and I was looking at Kew Gardens on a Sunday afternoon, and the sea
of golden daffodils . . . '"'fluttering and dancing in the breeze" . . .

Scene from "Pelleas and Melisande" by Maurice Mdeterlindf

FELLEAS

Yes, it is here; we are there. It is so dark you cannot tell the entrance
of the grotto from the rest of the night. There are no stars on this side.
Let us wait till the moon has torn through that great cloud; it will light
up the whole grotto, and then we can enter without danger. There are
dangerous places, and the path is very narrow between two kkes whose

1 "Idiot's Delight," by Robert E. Sherwood, Charles Scribner's Sons.
s From "Pell&s and M&isande," 1 by Maurice Maeterlinck. Used by permission of
Dodd, Mead 6? Company, Inc., and George Allen & Unwin, Ltd.

RELEASING THE EMOTION'S ' 203

bottom has not yet been found. I did not think the light of the sky will
be enough for us. ... You have never gone into this grotto?

MELISAKDE

No. ...

PELLEAS

Let us go in; let us go in. ... You must be able to describe the place
where you lost the ring, if he questions you. ... It is very big and
very beautiful. There are stalactites that look like plants and men. It is
full of blue darks. It has not yet been explored to the end. There are
great treasures hidden there, it seems. You will see the remains of ancient
shipwrecks there. But you must not go far in it without a guide. There
have been some who never have come back. I myself dare not go forward
too far. We will stop the moment we no longer see the light of the sea
or the sky. When you strike a little light there, you would say the vault
was covered with stars like the sky. It is bits of crystal or salt, they say,
that shine so in the rock. . . . Look, look, I think the sky is going to
clear. Give me your hand; do not tremble, do not tremble so. ...

EXERCISES FOR DEVELOPMENT
OF OBSERVATION

1. Pick up a pencil. Observe its color. What does the lacquer
consist of? Where did the metal originate? The rubber? What kind
of wood is it? How is it put together? Where did the lead origi-
nate? Concentrate on the pencil and forget everything else. At
first your mind will wander away. Many other thoughts will
creep in. When this happens, stop and begin again. This simple
exercise will give you the power to focus your attention com-
pletely on one object or one problem at a time.

2. Now close your eyes and try to see the pencil. Visualize it
until you are able really to see it. Describe it in detail. Don't let
your mind wander from the subject.

3. Notice the chair before you. Focus your attention on it.
Estimate the distance it is from you. What shape is it? What
color? What sort of material is used in the upholstering? What
period is it? Does it belong in its surroundings? If you moved it

204 * RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

to another location, would its appearance be more pleasing? Keep
your mind and attention on the chair and don't let them wander.

4. Close your eyes and try to see the chair. Visualise it until
you are able to really see it. Describe it in detail. Don't let your
mind wander.

5. Pick up a flower. Notice its color, how it blends into different
shades, its perfume. How would it look in its natural surroundings?
In a garden? In a hothouse? Growing wild?

6. See the flower in your imagination. Describe it in detail in
each of several different surroundings.

Do these exercises until you are able to stimulate your imagina-
tion through visualizing a landscape, a statue, a picture. Think of
a man with whom you are associated daily. Visualise his face.
Place every feature in your mind.

Touch

Through training, the sense of touch may be highly developed.
The bank teller can instantly detect a counterfeit coin or spurious
paper money. Linen and wool experts depend upon their sense of
touch. How disagreeable can be the feel of a moist, clammy hand-
shake; and how pleasant a friendly one!

EXERCISES FOR DEVELOPMENT
OF TOUCH APPRECIATION

1. Pass your fingers over a piece of sandpaper. Then over a
smooth piece of paper. Note the difference in touch sensation.
Now, lightly touch the sandpaper with the tip of your finger, then
the smooth piece. Alternate with the fingers of each hand to get
the feel of rough and smooth material.

2. Pass a linen handkerchief between your hands. Then a
cotton handkerchief. Now one of silk. Then a piece of velvet.
Try to detect the difference in the feel of each texture. Try the
left hand and then the right.

3. What is the feel of a felt hat compared with that of a piece
of wool? With linen? Cotton? Silk? Can you name these materials
with your eyes closed?

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS * 205

4. Pick up a paper of matches and drop it quickly. Which
fingers came in contact with it? Do this exercise three times and
note the exact fingers that held the matches. Now use a coin or
any small object. Alternate your hands. See if your left hand is as
sensitive as your right.

5. Place six books on a table. Use your right hand to sort the
books by weight from the lightest to the heaviest. Now mix them
and sort them again with your eyes closed. First use your right
hand, then your left. Try to remember the title of each book by its
si2 and feel.

Imagine the touch of the following objects. J\ame your feeling
reaction:

1. Holding a large piece of ice.

2. Touching a velvet dressing gown.

3. Handling a rosebush.

4. Wrapping a book in cellophane.

5. Picking up a very hot plate.

6. Holding a bar of wet soap.
7- Handling a loaded revolver.

8. Picking up a razor blade from the floor.

9. Switching on the light and getting a short circuit.
10. Finding that your shower is ice-cold.

EXAMPLES OF TOUCH
Scene from "My Lady's Dress," by Edward Knobloct^ 1

A silk weaver's home in Lyons, France. Rondier, a silk buyer,
enters. He examines the silk through a small magnifying glass.

ANNETTE

Yes. It's ready. Won't you sit down? Til just wake my husband. He's
been working all night to get it done.

RONDIER
No! Don't 1 Don't! (Sees Joanny) Oh, you're here, are you?

lkk My Lady^s Dress," by Edward Knoblock. Copyright, 1911, 1916, by Edward
Knoblock. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Samuel French.

206 RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

JOANNY
Now, there's a pretty surprise for you, eh?

ANNETTE

(By her husband's chair, gently) Nicolas!

RONDIER

No! Let him sleep. He deserves it. (Examines the silty Splendid!
Splendid! Ha! One can always tell Nicolas' work at a glance.

JOANNY
Can one?

RONDIER

I can, at any rate. I suppose (he touches other sill^ disdainfully) this . . .
is yours?

JOANNY

How could you guess?
Another scene from the same play:

IVAN

Louka! You haven't put that sable with the others?

LOUKA
(Points to the door) No ! It's still on the door.

IVAN

(Turns to Anna his wife with a smile) We're not going to sell that,
Annoushka, are we?

ANNA

How should I know, little father?

IVAN

How should you know? Because if IVe told you once, Tve told you a
dosen times. That's the sable I trapped the day our little Vanitchka was
born.

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS ' 207
ANNA

Oh, that's the sable, is it?

IVAN

Yes. And when I get to the viUage Fm going to take it to the tailor.
And he shall make a cap of it. And when the winter comes little Vanitch'
ka shall wear it! Just think of his rosy face peeping out of the dark fur!
Ha! Ha!

ANNA

(Mumbling) A sheepskin cap would do quite as well.

IVAN
What do you say?

ANNA

(Fingers the sable thoughtfully) Nothing. Only this is a very fine skin,
Ivan.

IVAN

One of the finest I ever caught. Do you see the pretty little marks on
it? Quite unusual.

Scene from "Pelleas and Melisande," by Maurice Maeterlinc\ l

PELLEAS

Oh! Oh! what is it? ... Thy hair, thy hair is falling down to me!
All thy locks, Melisande, all thy locks have fallen down the tower! I
hold them in my hands; I hold them in my mouth. ... I hold them in
my arms; I put them about my neck. ... I will not open my hands
again tonight.

MELISANDE

Let me go! Let me go! Thou wilt make me fall!

PELLEAS

No, no, no: I have never seen such hair as thine, Melisande! See, see,
see; it comes from so high, and yet it floods me to the heart! And yet it

1 From "Pelleas and Melisande," by Maurice Maeterlinck. Used by permission of
Dodd, Mead 6r* Company, Inc., and George Allen ? Unwin, Ltd.

208 RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

floods me to the knees! And it is sweet, sweet as if it fell from heaven! I
see the sky no longer through thy locks. Thou seest, thou seest? I can no
longer hold them with both hands; there are some on the boughs of the
willow. . . . They are alive like birds in my hands.

LITTLE YNIOLD

Oh, this stone is heavy! It is heavier than I am. ... It is heavier
than everybody. ... It is heavier than everything that ever happened.
I can see my golden ball between the rock and this naughty stone, and
I cannot reach it. ... My little arm is not long enough . . . and this
stone won't be lifted. ... I can't lift it ... and nobody could lift
it. ... It is heavier than the whole house. . . . You would think it
had roots in the earth.

Taste

To many people, eating is a necessity, not a pleasure. When
they are hungry, they satisfy their appetites, but cultivation of a
sense of taste plays no part in their lives.

To the actor, a palate that recognizes the delicate nuances of
food is almost a necessity, since frequently he is called upon to
express a response to taste through physical behavior. And that
reaction must be an accurate expression of the taste specified.

EXERCISES FOR DEVELOPMENT
OF FOOD APPRECIATION

Let us imagine the taste of the following articles and state our
reaction to them:

1. A freshly cut lemon

2. Sugar

3. Roquefort cheese

4. Quinine

5. Sauerkraut

6. Honey

7. Tea

8. Strawberries

9. Ham

10. Young onions

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS * 209

As you imagine the different tastes, let your face and body
register like and dislike.

EXAMPLES OF TASTE
Scene from "Boy Meets Girl," by Sam and Bella S

SUSIE
Try the chicken soup. It's very good.

RODNEY

Are you seriously suggesting that I filch some of this broth?

SUSIE
We make it special for B.K., with nine chickens.

RODNEY
Well, dash it, I will eat it. Just to make the joke good!

SUSIE
It's hot!

RODNEY

So Tve learned.

SUSIE
When did you eat last?

RODNEY

I had my lunch an hour ago.

SUSIE
Have some crackers with it?

susm

(Susie uncovers the lunch tray) Some day Til go to high school. That's
my secret ambition. Try the ham hocks. The cook eats them himself.
He comes from C2choslovakia.

1 "Boy Meets Girl," by Sam and Bella Spewack. Reprinted by courtesy of Random
House.

210 RELEASING THE EMOTIONS
RODNEY

Does he really? Look here. ... I feel an awful swine guzzling by
myself. Won't you join me?

SUSIE
Well, I'm not very hungry, but I can eat.

RODNEY
Good!

SUSIE

It's funny how I keep on eating.

RODNEY

Some ham hocks?

SUSIE
No. Happy doesn't like ham. He likes milk.

RODNEY
I beg your pardon. . . . Did you say milk?

SUSEB
Yes. Milk.

RODNEY

(Pours glass of milty There you are.

SUSIE

Thanks.

RODNEY

Cozy, this . . . what?

SUSIE
It's good milk. Have some?

Smell

What is your sense reaction to the following objects: how does each
affect your sense of smell?

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS 211

1. Hot coffee early in the morning

2. A piece of twisted lemon peel

3. A pot of boiling glue

4. Frying bacon

5. A rose. A gardenia. A violet

6. Gasoline. Alcohol. Paint
7- Bread baking

8. Fresh crushed mint leaves

9. Cigarette; an old pipe
10. Cloves. Cinnamon

EXAMPLES OF SMELL
Scene from "Tovarich," by Jacques Deval

TATIANA: (To her husband, Mi\aiT) It is our kitchen, Mikail. Breathe
the air, my darling. ... It smells of onions and coal gas and brown
soap . . . but when you breathe it in, it becomes the air of Russia . . .
cold and clean. Wherever we may go, it will be the same. In our lungs,
and our eyes, and our hearts will be Russia!

Scene from "Ethan Frome," try Owen and Donald Davis 1

ETHAN

Brought you somethin\ Matt!

MATTIE

(Eagerly) Why, what? (He pulls cor\ out of the top of the jug, holds out
the jug for her to smell)

ETHAN

Mrs. Andrew Hale give it to me. (She ta\es jug and sets it on table)

MATTIE

Why, my sakes . . . that's apple cider, ain't it? (Then suspiciously)
It ain't gone hard or nothin'?

1 "Ethan Frome," a dramatization of Edith Wharton's novel, by Owen and Donald
Davis, Charles Scribner's Sons.

212 RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

ETHAN

Nope, Jotham and me ... we seen that there same juice come oozin'
through the press, didn't we, Jotham?

Hearing

Sight and hearing seem to go hand in hand. On seeing a thrush,
our first impulse is to listen for its song. Yet notice how the blind
can recognise another merely by the sound of his voice. The
director of a symphony of fifty musicians can detect one false note.
A skilled mechanic listening to a motor can tell exactly what is
wrong not that his hearing is more acute than that of the
average person but his sense of hearing has become sharpened by
necessity.

EXERCISES

1. In the quiet of your room try to detect the various sounds.
Separate them. Street traffic, a motor running, or a child playing.
Listen attentively; hear every sound. Write all the sounds on a
piece of paper. Then check to see if you have missed any.

2. Listen attentively. Focus your attention on one of the sounds
and shut out all the others. For instance, if a clock is ticking near
you, shut out all the street noises by concentrating on the clock.
Do this with any sound that comes to your ear.

What does each of the following sounds suggest to you? Imagine
the sounds first* then your reaction to them:

1. The song of a bird in the morning.

2. The creaking of a board in the middle of the night.

3. The crash of glass in the street.
4- A screaming siren.

5. The sound of a drum in marked time.

6. The backfire of an automobile.

7. The laughter of children.

8. The whirl of an egg beater.

9. The sound of a motorcycle alongside your moving car.
10. A crash of thunder.

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS 213

EXAMPLES OF SOUND
Scene from "Pelleas and Melisande," by Maurice Maeterh'nc^ 1

MELISANDE

How alone one is here ! There is no sound.

PELLEAS

There is always wonderful silence here. . . . One could hear the
water sleep.

PELLEAS

There are so many things one never knows. We are ever waiting; and
then . . . What is that noise? . . . They are closing the gates! . . .

MELISANDE

Yes, they have closed the gates. . . .

PELLEAS

We cannot go back now? Hearest thou the bolts? Listen! Listen! . .
the great chains! . . the great chains. . . . It is too late; it is too late!

MELISANDE

There is someone behind us!

PELLEAS

I see no one. . . .

MELISANDE

I heard a noise. . . .

PELliAS

I hear only thy heart in the dark, . . .

MELISANDE

I heard the crackling of dead leaves. . . .

1 From "Pelleas and Melisande," by Maurice Maeterlinck. Used by permission of
Dodd, Mead & Company, Inc., and George Allen & Unwin, Ltd.

214 RELEASING THE EMOTIONS

PELLEAS
Because the wind is silent all at once. . . .

PELLEAS

Oh, how thou sayest that 1 Thy voice 1 Thy voice ! It is cooler and more
frank than the water is! It is like pure water on my lips! It is like pure
water on my hands. . . .

Scene from ''''Ethan Frome" by Owen and Donald Davis 1

MATTEE

It ain't right to talk like this, Ethan. . . . It's awful interesting
though. (As they start to move away from the enclosure about the burial
ground, they hear the distant sound of a dog howling. Mattie listens, is
frightened, clings to Ethan and cries) What's that?

ETHAN
Nothin\

MATTIE

Was it a fox?

ETHAN

No. It was just a dog howling.

When we use the expression, "I know what Fd do if I were in
his shoes," we are saying, in effect, that we have, with the help of
our imagination, projected ourself in the Life of the other person;
that we are able to sympathise with his problem because we share
his emotional state.

The new actor who is able, literally, to put himself in the other
fellow's shoes, has triumphed over the most serious obstacle in his
path. He has achieved this state not only through practice and
development of his own emotional reactions to life but also
through a sympathetic study of how other human beings act under
given circumstances.

1 "Ethan Frome," a dramatization of Edith Wharton's novel, by Owen and Donald
Davis, Charles Scribner's Sons.

RELEASING THE EMOTIONS * 215

This knowledge the actor gets through observation and

imagination. When he sees people around him, he looks for a
characteristic trait and makes it his own for future reference. His
sympathy is aroused by a dejected, ill-fed wreck of humanity on
the street corner. With trembling fingers, the beggar tries to wrap
a thin coat around his body. Every movement spells misery,

The actor, watching the scene, makes a mental picture of the
physical expressions of abject misery (observation) and, at the
same time, tries to imagine how the man has sunk to the depths
of beggardora.

During the World War, Lillian Gish played in D. W. Griffith's
picture "Hearts of the World," part of which was filmed in
England. When she wasn't busy, Miss Gish walked through the
streets of London to study the crowds. At night, in one famous
section of the city, the painted ladies of the wartime period waited
for the soldiers off duty. Their pathetic antics to curry favor, their
reckless attempt at gaiety so impressed the actress that she made a
careful study of the expression, speech, and movements of these
women.

Years later, when Miss Gish appeared in Sean O'Casey's
"Within the Gates/" all the things she had learned in the streets
of London came to her aid in creating the character of the pros-
titute. Realism in the theater to her, as to all intelligent actors,
was nothing more than an imitation of the many facets of human
nature as she had learned them through observation, thought, and
imagination.

a

an

"v TEXT to applause, no sound is sweeter to the actor's ear than
J^ laughter. An audience goes to the theater to be entertained,
and a sure sign of entertainment is a hearty, spontaneous laugh.

The successful comedian must be something of a psychologist;
he must be able to fed the pulse of the audience. He must discover
laughs where no laughs live. He must pull mirth from the dullest of
dull lines.

The keener the audience the more difficult the actor's job.
The accomplished comedian immediately senses the audience
response. He isn't satisfied to keep pace with the people on the
other side of the footlights; he knows he must always be a few
steps ahead of them. If they lag a bit, he must coax them on. He
must be inventive. Many an interpolated piece of business or the
quick use of a vocal inflection has put humor, and consequently a
laugh, into an otherwise thin scene.

The Comedian

A natural'born comedian is a man or woman with an appretia'
tion of the humorous side of life who learns how to project this
humorous gift through what he does and says. There are few, far
too few, of these naturally blithe spirits, and for that reason they
are always in demand in the theater.

LAUGHTER AND TEARS 217

As I have pointed out in Chapter 10, the actor must know what
an emotion is before he can interpret it. Just so, it is necessary for
the actor to enter a state of fun or mirthful enjoyment before he
can put over a joke or a funny line. The actor who lac\s the comic
sense cannot be a comedian.

The comedian must have confidence in himself. He must not,
as Mark Twain once said, "be afraid of his joke."

And the comedian must be trained. No matter how great his
natural talent for fun, he cannot depend on it for humorous acting.
His comic gift must undergo thorough training.

Look at the gay face, the whimsical eyebrows, the laughing
mouth of the successful funmaker of the theatrical world, and
youll find behind this mirth-provoking exterior a carefully
planned attack the product of long and painstaking study.

For comedy depends on technique for its success. The comedian
dares not go over the boundary line of spontaneous humor; to
overact will be just as fatal as to underact. His job is to time his
laugh to the twinkling of an eye, to get just the precise, joyous
effect.

What Is Comedy?

Comedy is a play of laughter, whether it be sympathetic or
derisive. It is based on incongruities of character, on weaknesses,
mistakes, and conflicts of the human being. Because humor is
based on character, we respond to it in kind with our own natural
character. Thus, what may seem funny to one person will not
amuse another.

And this circumstance makes doubly hard the job of the come-
dian. In drama, the situations are tried and true. They remain at an
even pitch every night, and the audience"^ reaction remains
equally even. But in comedy, at each performance the actor faces
a different kind of audience and a different set of audience reac-
tions. He may think a line is sure-fire, only to be greeted by blank
faces and silent hands. The applause, or lack of it, may tell him
that he has played too broadly or not broadly enough; that he has
overstepped himself or that he has held back.

218 ' LAUGHTER AND TEARS

Timing a Laugh

Knowing just how and when to connect with the audience on a
humorous line or piece of business is called timing. This is an
individual development that can come only with practice in
understanding audience reaction and the type of comedy you are
playing.

The actor who has perfect timing plays with the audience as a
cat plays with a mouse. Each laugh is cumulative; the preceding
giggle brings on the roar that follows. It seems to have been
created for the express amusement of the particular audience that
is watching.

The sound of a laugh rises to a peak, and before it can drop the
actor picks it up with his next line. If he speaks his line when the
laughter is at its peak, the audience, busy laughing at what has
just happened, will not hear it. The actor is talking through a laugh.
On the other hand, if he waits until the laughter has died out, the
comic action will slow up to a walk, and he will lose his hold.

Timing laughs at the proper moment means that the new laugh
must begin before the last laugh dies away.

At this trick, no comedian is more successful than Al Jolson.
And he accomplishes it with such effortless ease that no one pres-
ent can see the exquisite precision of his technique.

I remember a musical play in which Jolson was starred. In the
second act, he did a specialty number that ran ten minutes. At the
close of the songs and jokes, the audience applauded so vigorously
that the show couldn^t go on. The other actors were on the stage,
ready to speak, but the audience clamored for more Jolson. Finally
Al asked them if they didn't want to see the rest of the play.
They continued to applaud. Then he asked, "Would you rather
have me entertain you the rest of the evening?" 1 They roared,
"Yes!"

Very patiently, Mr. Jolson explained the continuity of the
plot and the play's ending. Then, turning to the company, he said,
"Good night, everybody! You can go home now!"

LAUGHTER AND TEARS ' 219

There followed the most inspired comic performance I have
ever seen in the theater. For over an hour Mr. Jolson joked (mostly
ad libbing) and talked about local events. He said, "You laugh as
though you hadn't paid to get in. You know, the last town we
were in ... not so good. The audience sat on their hands and
dared me to make them laugh. But you're different; you're with
me."

His songs held them spellbound. He jumped from sentimental
ballads to broad, comic songs. He had a hundred tricks to hold
them; he tossed bright laughter over the footlights and brought it
back again. His was humorous showmanship at its best

Laugh-getting Mediums

How did he do it?

Ask Mr. Jolson and other famous comedians how they win
their laughter and applause and they'll tell you. By means of:

1. Shrewd facial expressions

2. Agile eyebrows

3. Vocal tricks

4. Perfect timing

5. Ironic inflections

EXAMPLES
I. Facial Expressions

Aristotle defined the comic element as "some defect or ugliness
which is not painful or destructive. The comic mask is ugly and
distorted but does not cause pain."

It is true that most comedians have some defect in stature
or face that makes them funny to look at.

Without make-up, W. C. Fields' facial expressions are laugh-
provoking. One look at his large, bulbous nose, and the audience
roars applause. Mr. Fields once said the funniest thing a come'
dian can do is not to do it. In other words s work the audience up to
laughing expectancy and then abandon the idea. For instance,

220 LAUGHTER AND TEARS

William Lynn, playing the hypochondriac secretary in a recent
revival of "Firefly," spied a pretty French servant girl. Leaning
wistfully toward the girl, lips pursed, he said, fc Tm going to kiss
you [then he produced a bottle of pills} . . . after I take my pill."
Ed Wynnes face inspires laughter long before he starts to speak
his rambling, nonsensical monologues in his uncontrolled, lisping
voice.

2. Comic Facial Expressions

In the Behrman pky, "No Time for Comedy," Lawrence
Olivier, as the moody playwright husband, has become involved
with another woman. The lady awaits him in the bar in the
apartment house where he lives. He has decided against going
away with her; he wants to stay with his wife. The telephone
rings. Olivier sends a pleading, wistful look to his wife. Will she
answer get him out of the mess? The wife sits resolute. He can
get himself out. The husband goes to the telephone . . . opens
his mouth to talk . . . looks back at his wife, a helpless child
. . . opens his mouth again . . . and the curtain goes down,
leaving the audience to guess what he says.

3. Agile Eyebrows

In Chapter 6 (The Eyes) will be found directions for using the
brows as well. For in comedy, there is no more useful weapon
than the shrewd uplift of the eyebrow.

Whenever you think of the brow in action in comedy, you think
of Eddie Cantor and his trick of working heavily marked brows
above perennially surprised, busy eyes.

The sardonic eyebrows of John Barrymore run the gamut of
acting along with the other well-cut features of the famous player.
As a matter of fact, all the Barrymores have energetic brows.
Whereas John lifts his brows, Ethel draws hers down over her
deep-set eyes, and Lionel sets his in a straight line each with
superb comic effect.

LAUGHTER A N D TEARS

221

Henry Travers as the comic old philosopher, Grandpa Vanderhof, in
"You Can't Take It With You, gives the former grand duchess, Olga,
a bit of advice. (Courtesy of Sam Harris.)

4. Vocal Tric\s

Victor Moore has a faltering, apologetic, "excuse me for living'"
method of underscoring his voice; Helen Westley, her harsh,
cackling laughter and sudden awesome return to dignity through
vocal display. Fred Allen uses a dry Yankee humor, with an
undercurrent of sharp, ironic wit beneath his twangy drawl.
Eddie Cantor's method is an eager, please-like-me approach that
seldom fails to draw.

EXAMPLE (VOCAL TRICK)

When flighty Fran Dodsworth bids good night to the sophisti-
cated Mrs. Cortright, Fran expresses the hope that she will look
as well as Mrs. Cortright when she reaches forty. Mrs. Cortright,
aware that Fran is forty or more, counters, "My dear, I'm almost
sure you will!"

222 ' LAUGHTER AND TEARS

. Perfect Timing

Ina Claire's light, sharp comedy attacks are built on her method
of timing. Miss Claire gives a line a triple exposure. She looks back
to what has just been said and looks forward to what is to come at
the same time she is speaking the present line.

Billie Burke is an expert at timing. On analyzing the adorably
dumb and fluttering woman whom she does so well, you will find
Miss Burke using her voice, gestures, facial expressions, and quick
trilling laugh to bring peals of laughter from the audience, no
matter how unfunny the lines may be.

A comic invention in perfect timing that rarely fails to call
forth a laugh is an expression of indifference immediately followed
by quickened interest.

EXAMPLE

BOY: I want you to meet an old sweetheart of mine
GIRL: (Jealous) No, thanks, I don't want to meet her. I'm not at
all interested. . . . What's she li\e?

6. Ironic Inflections

Lynn Fontanne's comedy suggests a deep, ironic inner amuse-
ment. She is secretly delighted. Her voice and laughter have a
rich, throaty sound. Her method is never fluttery or fast-paced; it
is leisurely and accurately timed.

On the other hand, Beatrice LilHe's light, high voice inspires
laughter. And Patsy Kelly's rough comedy is put over by her
funny shrill voice and quick sense of timing, which she learned in
vaudeville.

EXAMPLE (IRONIC INFLECTION)

In Behrman's play, "No Time for Comedy," Katharine Cornell
has offered to help her husband pack his luggage. He petulantly
refuses. With the amiable warning to the woman he has chosen as
wife number two, "Don't touch his things!" she exits. A second
later she sticks her head through the door and repeats in a sharp,
ironic voice, "Don't touch his things!"

LAUGHTER AND TEARS 223

Are You Laughing at Me or with Me?

This is a question every comedian should ask himself. If he is
playing broad burlesque, slapstick, or satire, the audience will be
laughing at him. But if he is playing character comedy in which
the laughs arise from the frailties and mistakes of human beings,
the audience, composed of human beings, will sympathize and
laugh with him.

In character comedy the audience enjoys in retrospect what
they remember about similar experiences. Through imagination
they put themselves in the actor's place and feel with him. Hence
the actor who undertakes character comedy must have a knowledge
of people, their psychology, and philosophy. For all humorous
situations and lines are patterned from human behavior.

The American brand of comedy is essentially sympathetic.
It is not brilliant, caustic, or satirical so much as it is homely and
tender. Such plays as "Ah, Wilderness," by Eugene O'Neill,
"Big-Hearted Herbert," by Sophie Kerr, "Turn to the Right" and
"Lightnin\" by Winchell Smith, "Another Language," by Rose
Franken, "Pigs," by Anne Morrison, "Adam and Eva," by Guy
Bolton, "As Husbands Go," by Rachel Crothers, and "Seventeen,"
by Booth Tarkington, are typical American plays. They show the
American family not in a ridiculous or malicious manner but in a
gently teasing way.

The budding poet, Richard, in "Ah, Wilderness," who worries
his mother because he reads Swinburne and Omar Khayyam and
annoys his father because he hates Capital, brings our laughter
because we recognise in his pangs of youth some of our own. On
the other hand, when Richard drinks too much because he can"*t
get the girl of his choice, we sympathi^ with the problem of the
parents.

Anyone who ever had a mother-in-law is inspired to laughter
by the domineering Mrs. Hallam in "Another Language." The
routine get-togethers of the family relatives, the rebellion of
Stella, one daughter-in-law, who refuses to be molded into the
Hallam pattern, are funny and at the same time pathetic. Even

224 ' LAUGHTER AND TEARS

as we laugh, we sympathise with the predicament of the young
daughterin-law who saw no reason why chrysanthemums should
not be placed in an umbrella stand.

Laughter in Farce Playing

A farce is a play in which emphasis is placed on an exaggerated
situation. The laughs come from the contrast between the char-
acters and the situations that confront them. The more thoroughly
the comedian becomes involved in the humorous situations of
the play, the greater the fun. He is forever in hot water; try as he
may, he cannot extricate himself. Indeed, the harder he tries, the
more complicated becomes the tangle. And the greater the
number of laughs.

Example: In "Three Men on a Horse," trouble begins early in
the day for Irwin when his wife demands that he give her the
money he has saved for a fishing trip in order that she may buy a
new dress. To drown his sorrows, he goes to a bar; he drinks too
much; he becomes associated with a race-track crowd. Instead
of solving his problems, he adds to them until they mount in
steady confusion and threaten to destroy him.

From the moment the curtain rises, a farce runs ahead like an
express train. There are certain stations in which the train must
pause for a split second; there are grades in which it must slow
down. But where the track is straight and there are no stations,
the train runs ahead at lightning speed straight to its destination.
In playing farce, the actor is in control of the moving vehicle.
His hand never leaves the throttle. It is his job to run the farce on
schedule and to get there on time which means no lost motion
and no fumbling.

Pace in playing calls for pace in thinking. Not long ago I re"
hearsed a farce comedy in which the leading man was recruited
from radio and vaudeville. His rating as a comedian was earned by
his slow, witty dialogue; in farce comedy, unfortunately, this
gift was lost.

LAUGHTER AND TEARS * 225

The actor couldn't walk fast enough or talk fast enough to keep
up with the pace of farce comedy. He couldn't synchronize his
voice and body movements. He wanted to stand still and play
farce and that was not possible. No matter how fast I stepped up
the action when the man was off stage, the moment he came on
again, he slowed down the tempo to a walk. About farce playing,
which is rapid treatment of a series of piled-up incidents, the actor
had everything to learn.

Burlesque Laughter

Burlesque is a ludicrous imitation of real life, with emphasis on
the ridiculous aspects of character.

Character mirrors nature. Caricature, or burlesque, is a travesty
on nature. In the latter, the lowest form of comedy, a human being
is held up to ridicule, often unkindly.

For instance, burlesque pokes fun at Henry, an undersized
man, by letting his wife pick him up and carry him while dancing.
Character comedy, on the other hand, lets Henry pile two
telephone books on a chair to reach the cupboard where his tall
hat and high-heeled shoes are kept.

In slapstick comedy, Henry is seriously up against it. The books
will slide from under his feet, and everything on the shelf will
tumble onto his head, rendering him unconscious.

In farce, Henry, the small man, is asked by the conductor on a
train to pay half fare (situation interest).

In polite drawing-room comedy, one of the players will say to
Henry, "Buck up, old man. Size isn't everything. Napoleon did
pretty well, you know."

Burlesque does not always necessarily mean rowdy comedy.
The exaggeration of any character trait can be termed caricature,
or burlesque treatment, of the trait.

For instance, in "Personal Appearance/' Gladys George's
portrait of a motion picture star was nothing more than a bur-
lesque of the popular conception of such a star. Her studied
elegance, her self-pity, her sense of importance were all exaggera-
tion of typical traits of a given type.

226 LAUGHTER AND TEARS

In "Kiss the Boys Goodbye," Helen Claire as Cindy Lou
burlesqued the Southern damsel who, in her most harassed mo'
ments, never forgot to whisper to the men of the cast, "My, how
strong you are!"

Margalo Gillmore as the other woman in "No Time for
Comedy" gave a delicate burlesque treatment of the self-
appointed patroness of misunderstood genius. In an overdramatic
voice, she mocked her own efforts to help the young playwright.

Slapstick Comedy

Slapstick comedy is essentially cruel. It is an act of physical
aggression. A man is hit over the head or kicked in the back. He
receives a custard pie in his face, a pitcher of water down his
neck, a slap on the ears.

When we of the audience laugh at slapstick, we are taking
personal pleasure in the physical discomfort of someone else.
We are seeing another human being get the worst of it, and we are
enjoying it. The element of sympathy does not enter into our
enjoyment.

This sadistic strain goes back to our childhood. A small boy
pulls a dog's tail or slaps a playmate and laughs at the discomfort
of his victim. As we grow older we control these tendencies to
indulge in cruel tricks, but the desire remains in most of us. Thus,
when we see a dignified professor hit on the nose with a snowball,
we laugh heartily.

Slapstick comedy dates back to the sixteenth century, when the
commedia delV arte, a strolling band of players, improvised enter'
tainment for the crowd. Since performers had no text, they were
compelled to make up their parts as they went along. To get
laughs, each actor had to depend on his own bag of tricks and
inventive ability.

Facial expressions counted for nothing, since all players were
masked. They had to rely on falls, swaggering and strutting and
gesturing to put over their meaning. From this beginning grew
modern skpstick methods.

LAUGHTER AND TEARS * 227

Hokum

Hokum comedy is less crude in its methods than slapstick. It
consists of a series of mildly comic inventions and slight gags.

For instance, the comedian has a piece of sticky flypaper. He
sits on it; he tries to remove it; it sticks to his hands. He uses his
other hand, and again it sticks. Finally, after trying everything
else, he places the flypaper on the stage and steps on it. His
hands are freed. He tries to walk, but he discovers it is still with
him. So, with one mighty effort, he kicks his foot, and his shoe
flies off stage, carrying the flypaper with it.

This is a sure-fire laugh getter.

As the same comedian turns his back to the audience, his coat is
revealed with the back cut out to show his shirt and suspenders.
More hokum, but good for a laugh.

Props of every description are used to produce hokum laughter.

There is the banana with a zipper. The real fruit is placed
inside the false covering. When the actor sips open the banana and
eats the fruit, the audience laughs.

A piece of rubber is substituted for the ham in a sandwich.
The actor bites into it, and pulls the sandwich away from his
mouth. It stretches and flies back and slaps him in the face. Again,
sure-fire hokum.

The actor sits at a table with a piece of custard pie. He cuts the
pie into long strips, then uses his knife to eat it. As he brings
the strips to his lips, he goes into an expert balancing act.

You see a man place a bottle in his hip pocket. He sits on it;
the bottle breaks. The man shows his discomfort by shaking his
trouser legs to get rid of the liquid.

The greater his unhappiness, the louder the audience applause.
The laugh is on the other fellow and that's the secret of suc-
cessful hokum.

Drawing-room Comedy

Drawing-room comedy is a comedy of manners with emphasis
on witty lines. The plot is not so complicated as in farce, and there
are fewer situations and less action.

228 LAUGHTER AND TEARS

The laughs, which rise from dialogue rather than from situation
or character humor, are quieter; they are spaced less frequently
than in farce.

Drawing-room comedy is essentially English. It dates back to
1775, when Richard Brinsley Sheridan produced "The Rivals"
and, later, "The School for Scandal." In that period of elegant
artificiality, real emotions were concealed beneath a hard, brilliant
surface. Hence, the popularity of the brittle, terse talk of the
drawing-room comedy.

For the purpose of comparison between drawing-room com-
edy of that day and of modern times, in which it is equally
popular, I want you to read these quotations from "Fashionable
Levities," an English comedy written in 1780, and "End of Sum-
mer," an American comedy by S. N. Behrman, written in 1935.

EXAMPLES
Scene from "Fashionable Levities,"

MR. ORDEAL

Hear me. ... I consider myself an agent, bound to answer for the
distribution of that wealth with which heaven has bless'd my industry.
. . . The charge of avarice is more applicable to the spendthrift than
the prudent, the spendthrift grasps at every man's property; yet no
man is accounted avaricious who conforms to the custom of dissipation;
though the spendthrift raises his rents, and starves his tenantry . . .
borrows money and ruins his friend, or runs in debt, and makes bank-
rupts of his tradesmen, if he drives a carriage, keeps a train of servants,
pkys, drinks and plunges into vice, the world will call him a damn'd
generous fellow. ... I speak my mind. . . . That's my way.

MR. CHEAT

The widow has a considerable share of the toujours gai in her composi-
tion.

SIR BUZZARD

Too much to promise constancy, but then you old bachelors have
such winning ways. . . . But, Colonel, keep a sentinel on my sister.
. . . Time and position are two dangerous pioneers. The first moulders
the cement by degrees, and the other saps the foundation.

LAUGHTER AND TEARS * 229

Scene from "End of Summer," by S. X Behrman 1

PAULA

Tve decided that you are conventional and bourgeois. You're money'
ridden.

WILL

Eleven dollars. They say a big income makes you conservative.

PAULA

I don't mean your money. I mean . . . my money. It's childish to
let an artificial barrier like that stand between us. It's also childish to
ignore it.

WILL

I don't ignore it. That's what worries me. I count on it. Already I
find myself counting on it. I can't help it. Sitting and waiting in an office
for some bigwig who won't see me or for some underling who won't
see me, I think, "Why should I wait all day for this stuffed shirt?"

Ironic Comedy

Ironic comedy is comedy of understatement. It is usually
employed when an actor wants to put another person in his place.

The speech of the actor signifies exactly the opposite of what he
is thinking.

EXAMPLES OF IRONIC INFLECTION

In "No Time for Comedy," Katharine Cornell, as the actress
wife, dons a new hat, and asks her husband his opinion of it. His
indifferent mumble brings forth her ironic lines, "Don't overcome
me, please!"

Scene from "Idiot's Delight" by Robert E. Sherwood 2

IRENE

Somewhere in that funny, music-hall soul of yours is the spirit of
Leander, and Abelard, and Galahad. You give up everything . . . risk

1 "End of Summer" by S. N. Behrman. Reprinted by courtesy of Random House.

2 "Idiot's Delight," by Robert E. Sherwood, Charles Scribner's Sons.

230 ' LAUGHTER AND TEARS

your life ... walk unafraid into the valley of the shadow ... to aid
and comfort a damsel in distress. Isn't that the truth?

HARRY

Yes . . . it's the truth . . . plainly and simply put.

IRENE

When I was a little girl my father used to engage Chaliapin to come
often to our house. He taught me many songs.

HARRY
Chaliapin, eh? Your father spared no expense.

In inventing Cyrano de Bergerac, Rostand put his character
in an ironic situation in order to arouse sympathy. Cyrano, de-
spite his "plume/ 1 as he derisively called his nose, was the true
poet who composed love letters for the handsome but dull
Christian. The play is also an ironic commentary on the fact that
women seldom see below the surface of a man's appearance.

Satire

Satire makes fun in a good-natured but unmalicious way. It
employs both irony and caricature. Satire is destruction by
laughter. Sentiment and sympathy are not called upon in a satirical
play. The playwright and audience stand aside and laugh with
cynical amusement at the antics of human behavior.

"Once in a Lifetime" is a satire on the background and habits of
Hollywood moving picture people.

Wit

Wit is an intellectual practical joke a treatment of truth by
comic implications. It leads on the audience and then plays April
Fool. It is often cruel and seldom sympathetic.

Wit tickles the intellect, whereas broad comedy, falls, tumbles,
and trips, tickles the senses.

LAUGHTER AND TEARS 231

EXAMPLE OF WIT
Scene from "The Importance of Being Earnest," by Oscar Wilde

LADY BRACKNELL

Dear child ... of course you know that Algernon has nothing but
his debts to depend upon. But I do not approve of mercenary marriages.
When I married Lord Bracknell I had no fortune of any kind. But I never
dreamed for a moment of allowing that to stand in my way.

Naturally the audience expects the line to end, "Although I
had nothing, Lord Bracknell married me!" But Oscar Wilde so
twisted the line that it gives the ironic implication that the lady in
question is out for a moneyed marriage.

Later in this play, Lady Bracknell has another line with the
same brand of caustic humor: "Never speak disrespectfully of
society, Algernon. Only people who can't get into it do that!"

In a play of wit that depends on lines for audience appreciation,
there is a minimum amount of character interest. Since we all
know that real people do not spout a constant stream of epigrams,
it is apparent that the author is not giving a true characterisation
of anyone; he is simply taking intellectual jabs at human behavior.
He is holding up his characters for polite ridicule instead of for
sympathy.

In French comedies of this kind, the same method is used for
injecting philosophy and social and political significance.

How to Get Laughs

Given laugh-inducing lines, almost any trained actor can get
laughs. But to be able to produce laughs from an ordinary
"straight" part is a test of his inventiveness.

The real comedian does not depend entirely on his lines. He
can say, "Give me my hat, please," and throw his audience into an
uproar of fun. His appeal is so sincere that the sympathy of his
watchers goes out to him even though they know full well that he
is "putting on an act" for them.

232 LAUGHTER AND TEARS

Of all the comedians who play seemingly "'straight" scenes
with quiet humor, Victor Moore is the most successful. His
quality of fun is human and whimsical. He is so honest in his
portrayal of ridiculous nonsense that at times he almost draws a
tear.

Example: In "Of Thee I Sing," Mr. Moore's attempts to get a
drink were pathetically humorous. In the hotel room, while
glasses were passed to the various congressmen gathered there, the
neglected Vice-president, Throttlebottom (Victor Moore), was
forgotten. Dashing into the bathroom, the comedian returned
with a bright'colored celluloid glass. As soon as he filled it, the
President grabbed it from his hands.

Before long, the whole audience wanted to help Mr. Moore get
a drink. In arousing laughter, he had also aroused sincere sympathy.

Pathos in Comedy

Pathos in comedy is compassionate humor; it is the delicate
blending of a laugh and a tear. Charles Chaplin is the greatest
exponent of the school of comedy that specializes in this effect. He
is the eternal, fumbling but lovable boob whose mistakes you
pity even as you laugh.

When he borrows a dress suit and the waiter spills soup down
the front, we laugh, but we are sorry. When Chaplin stands on a
plank, innocently catapults a brick into the crowd below and
starts a riot, we laugh loudly. But when the crowd starts to chase
him, we want to help him to escape.

Whimsical Humor

In whimsicality there is a childlike quality that appeals to the
average adult audience. With its use, the actor can tell a joke that
otherwise might offend.

Example: "Yesterday I picked up the most beautiful squirrel.
It was sick and shivering. I put it under my coat close to me to
make it warm. Today I had to bury my clothes/"

LAUGHTER AND TEARS ' 233

Humor in the Unexpected

A miscarriage of events is always good for a laugh. The thing
that should happen doesn't. You expect to sit down, but the chair
folds beneath you. You tiptoe across the room so as not to disturb
an invalid; you stub your toe and give forth a loud yell. You are
careful to hang your coat on a rack, and, in so doing, you pull
down a dosen coats.

To the audience these things are very funny; not so to the actor.
Hence, the more serious the face of the actor and the greater his
embarrassment the more prolonged the audience laughter.

Surprise is the keynote of comedy of this brand.

Comedy from the Misuse of Words

Since Sheridan invented the famous character Mrs. Malaprop,
playwrights have employed the use of play on words to get comic
effects. This form of humor offers a wide range of illustrations
from "Personal Appearance," in which the movie actress (Gladys
George) went outdoors to "commute with herself," to the more
exaggerated malapropisms of "The Rivals."

EXAMPLE
Scene from "The Rivals," by Richard Brinsley Sheridan

MRS. MALAPROP

Observe me, Sir Anthony. I would by no means wish a daughter of
mine to be a progeny of learning; I don't think so much learning becomes
a young woman: For instance, I would never let her meddle with Greek,
or Hebrew, or Algebra, or simony, fluxions, or paradoxes, or such
inflammatory branches of learning. . . . Neither would it be necessary
for her to handle any of your mathematical, astronomical, diabolical
instruments, . . . But, Sir Anthony, I would send her, at nine years
old, to a boarding school in order to learn a little ingenuity and artifice.
Then, sir, she should have a supercilious knowledge in accounts . . .
and as she grew up, I would have her instructed in geometry that she
might know something of the contagious countries. But above all, Sir
Anthony, she should be mistress of orthodoxy, that she might not mis-

234 * LAUGHTER AND TEARS

spell and mispronounce words so shamefully as girls usually do; and
likewise that she might reprehend the true meaning of what she is
saying. This, Sir Anthony, is what I would have a woman know; and I
don't think there is a superstitious article in it. ... There, sir, an
attack upon my language! What do you think of that? An aspersion
upon my parts of speech! Was ever such a brute! Sure, if I reprehend
anything in this world, it is the use of my oracular tongue, and a nice
derangement of epitaphs !

Laughs from Costume Effects

Clothes, which make the man, can usually make for laughter,
too, if they are cleverly selected and properly worn.

Some years ago Fred Allen made his appearance in a Winter
Garden production wearing an oversized Inverness coat and a
brown derby hat several sises too large for his head. To the audi-
ence he said, "I might look funny to you, but Pm a big man in
my home town."

When the play, "Broadway," opened, the audience was vastly
amused to see Lee Tracy, the hoofer, make a quick change before
their eyes.

One of the funniest scenes in "Dodsworth" is that in the
Kits Hotel in which the fashionable Fran, in an old wrapper,
smears cold cream on her face, while Sam, undressed for the night,
parades about in his underwear.

In "Three Men on a Horse," the only way the racetrack crowd
can keep Irwin in the hotel is by taking away his trousers. Irwin
wears old-fashioned long underwear, which increases the comic
effect.

When Cindy Lou, the Southern belle of "Kiss the Boys Good-
bye," makes her first appearance before the movie director whom
she is trying to impress, the audience titters at her costume effect.
True to type, she is dressed in crinoline and flounces, carries a
parasol, and strums a guitar.

Trick Laughs

Comedians who depend on tricks to get their laughs are called
"stunt" men, and of these Fred Stone is perhaps the most famous.

LAUGHTER AND TEARS 235

He started this form of comedy back in the days of 'The Red
Mill," when he rescued a girl from the windows of the mill by
catching onto the mill wheel.

He carried on (even after an airplane accident broke almost every
bone in his body) by playing stunts in a Shubert musical show
called "Smiling Faces."

When Fred told me he had a stunt that would bring big laughs,
I listened, a trifle worried. He was rigging up a trick airplane
effect, costing in the neighborhood of ten thousand dollars.

The plane was so contrived that, although Stone appeared to be
controlling it, a man was concealed inside the machine to whirl the
propeller. The plane came on from the wings, headed downstage
to the footlights, and stopped short. At the same time, a lever was
pulled inside, the front part collapsed, and the tail of the plane
rose in the air, giving the appearance of a fatal nose dive. Before
making his exit, Stone went to the propeller to warm up the motor
and then, accidentally, was caught onto it and w r hirled around.

A stunned silence in the audience, and then wild laughter when
the hoax was realised.

Ed Wynn is another master of the comic trick.

In a "Passing Show" at the Winter Garden, he pkyed in a
sketch in which he tried to sell a dilapidated automobile. The
machine was so wired that it could fall to pieces in a second and be
scattered fenders, running board, and tires on the floor. But
when a prospective customer appeared, the comedian whispered,
"Get up, Tillie," pulled an invisible string, and the car pulled
itself together and sat up.

Later, in a Ziegfeld show called "Simple Simon," Ed Wynn
played an innocent pedestrian who became involved in a street
scene. Two Italian balloon vendors carrying large bunches of
balloons began to argue. One asked Wynn to hold his balloons,
which the comedian did. As the argument waxed hotter, the
second balloon merchant asked him to hold his balloons also.
Wynn took them and, as he did so, was whisked out of sight. Mr.
Ziegfeld discarded this wire trick as too dangerous, although Ed
Wynn was willing to continue.

236 ' LAUGHTER AND TEARS

How to Laugh

One of the most difficult things for the new actor to learn is how
to laugh naturally. Just try it and you will see what I mean!

Laughter is a physical effort. If it isn't felt deeply, it becomes
superficial or forced. When your sense of humor isn't aroused, it is
next to impossible to produce hearty (and natural) laughter.

Example: Natural laughter is usually abrupt and disconnected
in its action. In music, it might be called staccato. The laugh is
cut off sharply. The sound we make is ha'hd'ha'ha.

When executed, each ha is a separate sound, which, if speeded
up, becomes one continuous sound. This is accomplished effec-
tively by short explosive manipulations of the diaphragm and
breath.

>{ot all laughter is spontaneous. When mixed with thought,
it often becomes a cackle (calculated laughter).

Age modifies the power and form of laughter. An elderly,
thoughtful philosopher indulges in a low, deep chuckle. An ill-
tempered spinster has a dry cackle. A giddy schoolgirl gives an
uncontrollable giggle.

In other words, laughter is an individual thing that must be
formed in keeping with character.

Variations of Laughter
(Practice each variation five times daily)

Titter

Guffaw

Roar

Cackle

Polite (forced) laughter

Trill of a light-brained woman

Snicker (sheepish embarrassment)

Snort

Sinister (gloating) laughter

Chuckle

LAUGHTER AND TEARS ' 237

Giggle

Hysterical (mixed with tears) laughter

Audience Laughter

Laughter response depends entirely on the listener's personal
conception of fun gained from his background and education.

All comedians know there is safety in aiming at a rather low
humor level. Slapstick and gag comedy are almost infallible in
vaudeville, radio, and motion pictures. The witty lines of Coward,
Lonsdale, and Sherwood would hardly appeal to the audience
that prefers action and amusing sights to intellectual observations
mouthed by actors in polite drawing-room plays. The average
man or woman would rather see two or three men hit over the head
in quick succession, as in the dormitory scene in "She Loves Me
Not/' than hear the lines Algernon speaks in Oscar Wilde's
"The Importance of Being Earnest."

EXAMPLE

LADY BRACKNELL: I had crumpets with Lady Harbury, who seems to
be living entirely for pleasure now.
ALGERNON: I hear her hair has turned quite gold from grief.

The most spontaneous of all laughter is the roar or guffaw
(sometimes called the belly laugh). It is a sense or sight laugh; it is
caused by a sight stimulus. The audience laughs without thinking.

We laugh when we see a man slip on a banana peel, but if
we stopped to think that he might be hurt seriously, our fun would
be spoiled.

In burlesque, slapstick, and farce, we find this kind of hearty
laughter.

A satire such as "Once in a Lifetime," in which a class of society
is held up for good-natured ridicule, brings amused titters. The
audience feels slightly superior to the characters in the play.

Risqu^ stories and allusions to sex or mention of subjects not
often spoken of in polite society bring shamed laughter, preceded
by a slight gasp of embarrassment and shock.

238 LAUGHTER AND TEARS

Such laughter is also caused by too accurate a character por-
trait, which makes the people in the audience think, "My good-
ness, am I like that?"

When the audience side with the character who is speaking an
ironic line (or is involved in an ironic situation) they are laughing
with him, not at him. Such ironic laughter is not spontaneous as a
rule, since it is mixed with thought.

Tears in Tragedy

In dramatic tragedy, the actor commands the sympathy of his
audience. They share with him a common problem or grief. When
sorrow is most profound, they weep with him; when the problem
is solved, they rejoice. In the few brief hours in which tragedy is
enacted, the audience is carried into another world, and it is in
these tense dramatic moments that the actor is given his greatest
chance to portray realistically the tragedy that must come to all at
some time in real life.

In dramas of emotion, where grief or sorrow is expressed by
tears, the burden is usually placed upon the shoulders of the
feminine members of the cast. Crying, as a rule, shows lack of
restraint or emotional weakness, but this does not mean that giving
vent to feelings in an uninhibited manner shows lack of courage.
In many fine pkys, strong men have wept. The trick, whether
the weeper is a man or a woman, is to achieve an effect of sincerity.
The weeping must sound to the audience as though the actor felt
every tear.

The sound of crying is in itself elemental. It springs from pain
and hurt. But when we cry on the stage, the act becomes mechan-
ical, and therefore we must have a technique of crying in order to
simulate tears.

Here, if ever, the actor must guard against overacting. Up to a
point, he must feel his grief, and then, without showing the change,
he must back his emotion with tone support. He must watch his
voice lest it become too high and shrill. He must avoid "ham"
behavior.

LAUGHTER AND TEARS 239

Crying has rhythm. In a crisis, the first reaction of an individual
is stunned silence. The mind does not immediately grasp the situa-
tion. Then, as reason returns, the sobs start, low and quiet at first,
then increasing in sound as grief increases, and, finally., after reach-
ing a crest, subsiding into low, broken sobs.

Crying and Weeping

There is a difference between crying and weeping;
Crying is a noisy and uncontrolled sound. Weep-
ing is a subdued, restrained form of revealing grief >
almost soundless, and surer to create sympathy.

A sigh, followed by a slight heave of the chest and shoulders,
leads the actor into a natural means of displaying grief through
weeping. If his facial expressions are true to life, his interpretation
will make the scene realistic and vital. The situation that has
caused his grief is known to the audience; there is no need for him
to pound it in by violent sobbing. If he loo\s his sorrow, the audi-
ence will sorrow with him.

On the other hand, loud crying may spoil the tragic effect. In
the jargon of the theater, "the sniff and heave effect" one or two
short intakes of breath through the mouth and nose, accompanied
by a slight heave of the chest and shoulders is more productive
of sympathy than a loud bawl. If this device is followed by a low
moan or sob, the scene can be very moving.

Fright and Anger Crying

A noisy form of crying is sometimes used to express fright.
This usually runs into hysteria, thereby building the scene to a
climax. A fit of anger calls for the same treatment.

Example: Someone dear to you is leaving you. You want to
accompany him; he refuses to take you. You cry, "Don't leave
me!" and burst into a fit of tears. As your friend takes you in hand
and tries to comfort you, the tears subside. You sob; you sniffle.
Then you recover. But the recovery is gradual.

240 LAUGHTER AND TEARS

EXAMPLE OF HYSTERICAL TEARS
AND LAUGHTER

Scene from "My Lady's Dress" by Edward KnoblocT^ 1

Anita, the model, looks in horror at the body of Jacquelin, the
couturier, whom she has just stabbed, and then breaks into
hysterics.

ANITA: Why don't you kick! You've kicked your way up. You said
there were still a few good kicks left in those legs of yours. Well . . .
why don't you . . . why don't . . . (She begins to scream hysterically)
Ah! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ah! (The telephone rings) Ah! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Ah!

EXAMPLE OF CRYING FROM HAPPINESS
Scene from "Smi'Iin" 1 Through," by Allan Langdon "Martin 2

Kenneth has just come back from the war and takes Kathleen
by surprise.

KATHLEEN

Ken! . . . oh, Ken . . !

KENNETH

How are you, Kathleen?

KATHLEEN

Oh, Ken! You're back. ... I think I'm going to faint. . . . No,
I'm not. . . . I'm going to cry. . . . (She puts out a trembling hand
and pets his sleeve)

KENNETH

Oh, come, Kathleen. . . . I'm not worth a single tear. (Kathken just
laughs and cries with happiness) Awfully jolly to see you, though. You're
looking very fit.

1<c My Lady's Dress," by Edward Knoblock. Copyright, 1911, 1916, by Edward,
Knoblocfc. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Samuel French.

2 "SnriliV Through/' by Allan Langdon Martin. Copyright, 1924, by Samuel French.
All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of Samuel French.

LAUGHTER AND TEARS ' 241
KATHLEEN

Am I? Oh, Kenneth . . . you've come back . . . and you Ye alive!
Just let me look at you ! Oh, you Ve been so ill, dear, haven't you? You Ye
a little pale, you know . . . and Fm keeping you standing. ... Sit
down ... sit down. . . . (She urges him to a chair) If I could stop
crying for a single second I could see you better! (She laughs again)

Don't Whine!

Nothing is so annoying as to have to listen to an actor as he
whines a whole speech. His petulant bleating defeats its own
purpose; he creates exactly the opposite of the effect desired.

If the same speech is read quietly, interrupted here and there
with a sob or a moan, it may have sympathetic appeal. To avoid
this form of whining, the lines should be read through -without
attempting to reveal sorrow through tears. Then, when the actor
b?m the emotional effect of the situation well in hand, he should
ask himself how he would react to a real-life tragedy of the same
kind. Later he can interpolate the sobs, moans, and fits of weeping
at the exact spots -where he feels profound emotions.

The greatest compliment that can be paid a tragedy actor is to
say: his sorrow is not tinged -with self-pity. Controlled emotional
intensity is the secret of all tragic acting not a flow of easy, noisy
tears.

Siow to Otuay a

FOR each part she plays, Jane Cowl has a script of her own, at
least twice as long as the author's original script. The addi-
tions on Miss Cowl's personal script contain all the things the
character is thmJpng while the actress is speaking the lines.

This is Jane Cowl's own recipe for keeping the interpretation
of her stage character fresh and clear in her mind. And a very good
plan it is, too. By thinking in terms of what her character is think-
ing, the movements of the actress are automatically directed into
the most artistic and powerful channels of expression.

Each actor has his own method of studying a part, but under
each plan of attack is the same underlying principle: you must
understand the nature of the character you are playing as
well as that of the other characters in the play. Some call this
"sensing a part, 11 but to me that expression sounds a little arty and
obscure. I prefer to call it "getting a perspective on a part. 11
Imagine yourself standing in the distance and watching the char-
acter living, not acting the various scenes of the play, and you'll
have a good start on understanding the nature of the person you
are trying to interpret.

Next, take up in turn these points about the character:

1. Age

2. Background

HOW TO STUDY A PART 243

3. Period

4. Locale

5. Philosophy

6. Physical mannerisms

7. Speech

8. Psychology

EXAMPLE

For the purpose of analysis, I have selected two well-known
parts, that of Dodsworth, as played by Walter Huston in the
play of the same name by Sidney Howard, and Irwin, the timid
young husband, in "Three Men on a Horse."

DODSWORTH

Age: Late forties.

Background: A leader; self-made businessman and proud of it.

Period: Today.

Locale: Zenith, a small Middle Western manufacturing town,
which Dodsworth has built from a village.

Philosophy: He is tolerant, human, devoted to his wife and
family. Sentimental, has rigid moral code both in business and in
personal life.

Physical mannerisms: Is fond of his pipe and easy slippers; neat,
conservative, small-town dresser.

Speech: Direct and forceful. He says what he means and says it
straight from the shoulder. Socially, he is still a businessman.

Psychology: With all his success, he is spiritually restless, a
dreamer. He is convinced that life must hold something more than
making money. He has a strong sense of curiosity about the other
fellow.

IRWIN

Age: About thirty.

Background: Writes sentimental verse for greeting cards, is
pleased with his job, and wouldn't think of asking for a raise.
Period: Today.

244

HOW TO STUDY A PART

Young Martin Gunther (Fredric March) joyfully greets his immigrant
wife, Inna (Florence Eldridge), and their two children at Ellis Island in
the play "The American Way," by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart.
Costumes, props (luggage, gold wedding ring on Mr. March's left hand),
make-up (hairdress) all contribute to the characterisation. (Courtesy of
Sam Harris and Max Gordon.}

Locale: He is one of the thousands of commuters from Suburbia.

Philosophy: Be good to your wife, and respect the boss. Never
be late to work. Save your money, and don't go into debt.

Physical mannerisms: He is a little man, both physically and
spiritually. He would wipe his feet on the doormat, "stoke the
furnace, and empty the garbage pails.

Speech: Shy, hesitant, soft-spoken. He wouldn't venture an
opinion on anything.

HOW TO STUDY A PART * 245

Psychology: Gets a harmless pleasure in playing the races on
paper only. Actually to bet would never occur to him.

There are two ways to study a part : from the outside and
from the inside.

The actor who has merely an outward conception of a char-
acter sees him in physical terms: mechanical actions, movements,
mannerisms, speech, and costumes. If he is playing Don Juan, he
says, 'Til play him broad. Til make this sweeping gesture to the
left and that to the right. Til flaunt a flowing cape and a sword."

The actor sees the whole character in terms of movement. The
inner emotional side of the character he doesn't see at all. Or he
trusts to luck that the inner development will grow through
rehearsal and playing.

In the second plan, that of studying a part from the inside, the
actor takes his character apart. He asks himself: What manner of
man is he anyway? How does he feel? The actor isn't so much
interested in what the character does as why he does it. If the char-
acter is mean and grasping, the actor tries to discover why he got
that way. If he is mellow and tolerant, the actor seeks the source
of his emotional stability and works on it in his portrayal. Each
gesture that the actor selects must be analysed. He convinces
himself that the gesture is the logical one for the character to
make. Once his concept is formed, he sticks to it. If he feels that
his portrayal is true to character, as he sees the man, he makes it
his own. By this means, the actor builds solid reality.

Type Casting

Sometimes, at the outset of his career, an actor is chosen for a
part because his looks suggest the character. A lucky break, it
would seem, but actually it is the worst thing that can happen to
him from the standpoint of progress. Type casting is the phrase for
it. You are literally playing yourself. In doing so, all your personal
reactions come into play and influence your character interpretation^
whereas you are supposed to be acting, interpreting a character

246 HOW TO STUDY A PART

probably foreign in thought, belief, mannerisms, to yourself. Type
casting is a challenge to neither your artistic ability nor your creative
imagination.

- By the use of imagination, which is the true heart of acting, you
project yourself into the character's background and mind. If you
feel the character, the right gestures and vocal inflections will
come to you naturally. If you are playing a queen, you will first
imagine the inner workings of a queen's mind, and automatically
you will find yourself walking and talking in a queenly manner.

Ziegfeld picked many of his most famous beauties from the more
modest walks of life. These girls were ex-waitresses, shop girls,
and office workers. Criticised during an audition for choosing a
girl who was shabbily dressed, he said, "But she feels beautiful."
He knew that her personal satisfaction and delight at being chosen
as a Ziegfeld girl would automatically enhance her charm and
poise and give her the personal assurance needed to wear beautiful
clothes. In other words, he was dressing her from "the inside"
instead of putting costumes on a clotheshorse who would lend
nothing of herself.

The First Reading of a Play

In a semicircle of kitchen chairs in the center of the stage, the
company is assembled for a first reading of the play. As yet
the parts have not been assigned. They are neatly stacked on the
director's table beside his script. With the exception of the star,
who has read the script, no one else knows exactly how long his
part is to be.

As each member of the company steps up to the director's
table, his face registers joy or sorrow, depending entirely on the
size of the part. I've seen a young actor droop in despair as he feels
the slim pages of lines accorded him, and another almost throw his
hat in the air at what he feels to be "a fat part." T^either has the
good sense to 'know that some of the greatest roles in the history of the
stage have been short on lines but long on dramatic strength and
character interpretation. The audience doesn't care much about the

HOW TO STUDY A PART 247

length of time an actor is on the stage; it is interested primarily in
what he does while he is there.

Once the part is in your hand, you listen to the director's
explanation of the story. This conference on story, plot, and char-
acter delineation is given before actual rehearsals start. Even in a
stock company, where a new play is produced each week, this
custom of giving everyone in the company a complete under-
standing of the whole play is followed.

If everything isn't clear to you, ask questions! You won't be
fired for admitting ignorance at this point, but you may lose your
job later on if you fail to gain a complete understanding of what
the playwright and director have in mind about the production.

Learning a Part

How shall I learn my lines? the beginner wants to know.

As he shuffles through page after page of script, memorizing the
speeches seems a mammoth task. His first impulse is to learn by
rote; that is, study and recite each speech, one after another, until
he has memorised the entire part.

To me this mechanical form of study has never seemed the right
one. I always advise young actors to forget memory for a time and
study the personal thoughts and responses that come through
reading the words.

Take one scene at a time. Analyze the meaning of the words.
Ask yourself, what thought comes to me as I read?

EXAMPLE 1

In Maeterlinck's play "Monna Vanna," Monna Vanna, wife
of the commander of the besieged garrison at Pisa, goes to the tent
of Princivalle, the barbarian leader of the army of Florence, to beg
for food for her people. There follows the impassioned love confes-
sion of Princivalle to Monna Vanna.

PRINCIVALLE: Oh, Vanna, my Vanna . . . for, I, too, used to call
you thus. . . . Now I tremble as I speak your name. ... It has so

1 From "Monna Vanna," by Maurice Maeterlinck. Used by permission of Dodd, Mead
6 Company, Inc., and George Allen & Unwin, Ltd.

248 * HOW TO STUDY A PART

long remained trebly sealed in my heart that it cannot escape without
breaking its prison. . . . Indeed, it is my heart; it is all I have. In each
one of its syllables lies all my life; and as I pronounce them I feel my life
flow from me.

What is your first reaction to this speech?

Isn't it appreciation of Princivalle's humility in the face of his
lady? Great leader that he is, he bows his head in worship before
her beauty and innocence. Humility, then, is a key to the char-
acter interpretation.

What next? Printivalle is excited and exuberantly happy. His
secret love has long lain in his heart; now he is permitted to speak.

Third, he is something of a poet. His speech (or, rather, the one
the playwright gives him) is well expressed; he is a man of con-
siderable culture. This speech will fasten itself in your mind. You
will not soon forget it. ... And so on. If you will examine each
line of action and speech given your characters, you will find a
new aspect of thought to be developed, and at the same time you
will learn the part.

The thought thus captured seldom leaves you. In fact, you'll
be surprised to find that through this kind of study youVe actually
memorised the lines. YouVe made them your own in reverie.
Later, if you dry up in the middle of a scene and forget your lines,
your understanding of the general trend of the scene is so clear
that you are able to carry on. You may even ad lib conversation
until your memory comes back to you. (Ad libbing is interpolated
speech invented by the actor; often it has no direct connection
with the author's text.)

Example: An actor jumped into a difficult part with too few
rehearsals. Unfamiliar with the situation and plot, he was clever
enough to do a good job until it was time for another character
a doctor to come on. The doctor missed his entrance cue, leaving
the unrehearsed actor alone on the stage. Uncertain as to what
action followed, the actor finished his lines and walked off the
stage, leaving it bare (and the audience pulled).

HOW TO STUDY A PART 249

Had he been quick enough, he might have saved the situation
by walking to the entrance and, through some form of ad libbing,
reminding the doctor, who was engaged in conversation with
actors off stage, that he should be on.

Instead, the stage was left cold until the doctor came on, looked
around in bewildered fashion and ad libbed: "Where is everyone?
Jones . . . Jones . . . " until the new man came on again.

Tm not suggesting that you try to ad lib or "wing" a part.
Far from it. Each line in your part has a cue of three words printed
above it, and that is the cue for you to learn. The cue is the last
three words in the speech that precedes yours. Study the cue
along with your own line. The other players will do likewise. Each
player waits for his cue. Naturally any ad libbing will throw the
performance out of kilter.

The Memory Process

Read the part through many times from cover to cover. Then,
when you are thoroughly familiar with it, write the cues on a piece
of paper and try to recite the lines that belong with them.

Committing a part to memory is a purely mechanical process
that requires no other capacity than ability to memorize printed
lines. It is at no time the test of one's artistic ability. A careless and
incompetent actor may have an accurate magpie memory.

It isn't what we put in our minds but how we put it there that
enables us to bring back knowledge when we need it. If the mind
is attentive, the idea will enter, but it will not stick unless it asso-
ciates itself with some other idea. When one of these ideas is
recalled, it will suggest the other. For instance, if, in your part,
you have the line, "I think 111 close the windows and build a
fire," the idea conveys the thought that you are cold. This line will
not only provide you with physical reaction but also give you two
separate pieces of acting business. Both the words "close" and
"build" suggest action.

The intelligent way to learn a part is to study the lines for their
ideas and meaning. Read the part a few times. Think of the mean'

250 * HOW TO STUDY A PART

ing behind each sentence. Take a page at a time until you under-
stand the first scene. Then go to the next.

As the play is staged, you will associate each thought with the
acting business. If you have a stage cross on a certain line, the
move is associated with the line. When you associate the mechan-
ical business with the thoughts and lines, it is the quickest and
surest method of study.

Always have a pencil at your rehearsal and carefully mark your
part. Incorporate every piece of business regardless of how trivial
it may seem to you at the time. Then, when you study your part at
home, be sure that the moves and business all coordinate.

Example: In a scene in "First Lady" 1 a committee has come to
his home to propose that Carter Hibbard, Supreme Court Justice,
be nominated as President of the United States. The discussion
gets around to the justice's delicate stomach. At this point his
wife, gathering up the bottle of pills on the desk, says to him,
"Darling, you mustn't forget your tablets!" To the others,
"You know, if I don't look after him he doesn't do a thing for
himself!" She shakes a handful of the tablets out of the bottle.
"Just a great big baby, really!" The others look on in worshipful
admiration as the curtain falls.

Learning lines is only part of the task of the beginning actor.
Frequently he must learn to play an instrument, to sing, to dance,
to fence, to perform some reaUife bit that is not a part of his
natural bag of tricks.

Alfred Lunt had to learn to play the piano and saxophone for
"Clarence"; for Noel Coward's "Point Valaine," the accordion.
In "Idiot's Delight," he executed some tricky dance steps.

Near the end of the New York run of "Show Boat," I faced the
problem of finding an actress to play Magnolia in the road com-
pany. It wasn't an easy part to fill. The actress must be a trained
singer, a good dramatic actress, young enough to play a very young

1 "First Lady," by Katherine Dayton and George S. Kaufman. Reprinted by courtesy
of Random House.

HOW TO STUDY A PART 251

girl in the opening and skilled enough to play later a married
woman and mother and, eventually, a very old woman. She must
dance a little, and be able to accompany herself on the guitar.

Of all the actresses I tried out, Irene Dunne seemed the most
promising. I rehearsed her and told her to study the part.

In the fall, when the company was assembled for the road,
Miss Dunne was sent for. In four months, not only was she letter-
perfect in the part of Magnolia, but she could sing the songs, pky
the guitar, and had worked out two dance routines. She was
signed for the part and, after two weeks' rehearsals, opened in
Boston, a decided hit.

Be prepared, then, to learn anything that is asked of you, from
figure ice skating to waiting on table.

First Rehearsal

To every young player, the first rehearsal is a trying ordeal.
He arrives in a state of nervous excitement. He feels that in order
to be heard, he must speak in a loud voice. Now, it is true that he
must be heard, but at the same time he must give an intelligent
reading of the part, and that doesn't mean shouting.

Take it easy!

Don't try to hang your hat on every inflection of your voice.
Rather, extend the sound of the word. Carry it along a step or two.

To give a word a simple inflection, just imagine it is a quarter
note in music. Then change it to a whole note. A whole note is
sustained; the quarter note is clipped and short.

Say the word "love." Say it briskly with a clipped accent; then
slowly. Hold on to it.

Example: "I would love to go along with you {quarter note|."
"Love . . . that is the magic word the poets sing about {whole
note}."

Technique Consciousness

The modern theater preaches naturalism and realism. You will
hear, "Be natural!" as long as you are associated with the theater.

252

HOW TO STUDY A PART

In the sentimental Golden Wedding scene in "The American Way,"
Martin and Irma Gunther tenderly celebrate their fiftieth year of happy
marriage. Costume, posture, make'Up contribute to the illusion of old age
in these fine characterrations. (Courtesy of SamHarris andMaxGordon.)

I heard it when I entered the theater twenty-five years ago. It is
still the slogan. You can't and won't be able to avoid it. Be
natural. What they really are trying to say is, don't be tech-
nique conscious. You can't be natural on the stage without
technique. That is what it is for to make people appear at ease.
At the first rehearsals, read your part as though you were in
your own home in conversation with a group of friends. Make
your speech clear and distinct. Of course, if you used the same

HOW TO STUDY A PART 253

easy, conversational style during a performance, you would not
be heard beyond the fifth row; yet this is the right way to study a
part. It will develop a simple, natural style. It is necessary to have
a certain amount of emphasis in order to give speech variety and
color. But this is achieved by thinking and feeling, not by yelling.
As you become familiar with the lines, you will increase the
volume of voice just a little each day. It should be so slight that
no one but yourself is aware of it. This gradual development will
not change your manner of speaking. It remains your own natural
style. You have simply increased the volume of tone.

Stage Fright

I have seen intelligent and well'balanced actors and actresses
go completely to pieces when they were given a line to read. So
confused were they that they could not even hold the part in their
hands, much less read it.

Stage fright? Not always. Sometimes the actor feels nothing
more than a sense of personal inadequacy when he is asked to
act in the presence of others. This condition is by no means hope'
less; it may mean that the victim of sudden fright is a fine and
sensitive artist. It also shows that he has proper respect for his
job. A smug self-satisfied beginner is not good theatrical material.

Directors recogni^ the symptoms of stage fright and know how
to deal with them. Often a second reading in a quiet spot, with no
interruptions, and a sympathetic word or two from the director
before the reading starts will cure the trouble.

If you are subject to these spells of terror, you'll have to learn to
adjust them. Every true performer knows moments of self-doubt;
it's part of the artistic temperament. Katharine Cornell has
admitted that, despite several weeks of study of a new role, she
is always very bad at the first few rehearsals. She feels that she has
lost all sense of the part. But that is only temporary; she soon
gets over it.

When Miss Cornell returns to the theater after a vacation (her
last ran into almost two years), she finds herself wondering
whether she can act at all. So detached has she become that the

254 * HOW TO STUDY A PART

life behind the footlights seems another world to her. She is very
pessimistic about her ability to adjust to it.

But Guthrie McClintic, her husband-director, knows all about
that. After the first few rocky rehearsals, Miss Cornell forgets her
fears and steps magnificently into her stride as an actress.

Not so fortunate was the original experience of Katharine
Hepburn.

When she was in Bryn Mawr, rehearsing a freshman college
play, she said to the girl who stood next to her at rehearsals, "If
I could only be an actress!" The girl looked Miss Hepburn up and
down and said, "An actress ! You?"

'Katharine Hepburn, painfully shy, shriveled under the scorn
of her classmate. She vowed to herself that she'd never mention
her desire to be an actress to anyone but, just the same, she
would be an actress.

Some years kter, after conscientious training, Miss Hepburn
got her first New York part a minor role in "The Big Pond."
She was fired after the first performance. Stark terror shook her.
All her worse faults came out. Before anyone else would believe
in her, Miss Hepburn had to recover her belief in herself.

In "The Lake" she suffered another major disaster. If you want
to know what Katharine Hepburn is made of, ask her about "The
Lake."

"I just fell apart on the opening night," is her description of
what happened. "I went to pieces in a crisis. I fro2je in my tracks;
I couldn't do a thing."

No one knows just what went on in Miss Hepburn's belief in
herself during the years that she was away from the theater. But
when she came back in "The Philadelphia Story," she had found
herself.

"I wasn"*t so horribly nervous at our opening," she said
triumphantly. "At least not like that night in 'The Lake.' "

At last Katharine Hepburn was her own woman!

Concentration

The theater is the schoolroom to which the young actor goes to
study and gain knowledge. It is probably the only schoolroom in

HOW TO STUDY A PART ' 255

the world where theory and practice are combined. As he learns
the intricacies of his profession, the beginner has a chance to
watch experienced players going through the same performance in
which he is trying to perfect himself.

This is especially true of rehearsals in which all the little
technical tricks of acting are developed. The beginner can watch
the old-timer use his hands to put over a bit of business. He can
compare this technique with the technique that he has been
taught. He doesn't have to go out front to do this; he can sit at the
side, out of the way, where he will be able to see and hear every-
thing. He will also be ready for his next entrance.

An entrance cue is important., so always be ready to pic\ it up.
There are off stage cues that the actors on stage depend upon in
order to carry on their dialogue. If the cue is not given, there is a
stage wait. Don't get the reputation of being careless at rehearsals.
Pick up your cues on stage and off stage instantly. Make a habit of
doing this. If you pick up cues at rehearsal, you won't miss them
at a performance. Missing a cue usually shows a mental indiffer'
ence in the actor and breaks the continuity of the play. So pick up
your cues!

The important thing is to concentrate on your job. Backstage
life can be a social affair or it can be straight business. For the first
year at least, the young actor should make it business strictly. He
can't afford to pick up his mail, saunter in with a brief "hello,"
and go on chatting with some fellow actor about everything from
economic problems to the latest tidbit of the gossip columns.

He must concentrate on what is going on about him. Working
steadily in the theater will prove so absorbing that he'll soon forget
there is any life outside.

The Director Is Your Friend

When you get up in front of the director, don't shake like a
model T Ford. The chances are he's more eager for you to succeed
than you can possibly be. It will save him the trouble of trying out
someone else for the part. And he may be human enough to want
to develop raw material if he can.

256 HOW TO STUDY A PART

Think of the director as a kind, wise friend. Listen to what he
has to say; don't argue. Don't try to defend yourself when you
make mistakes. And don't sulk.

If you are energetic and on the job, hell be watching you,
whether or not you know it.

My introduction to Fred Astaire came when I was sent to
rehearse a vaudeville act in which he worked with his sister,
Adele. The big finish to the turn was an extremely difficult
eccentric exit step in which Fred and Adele hopped off stage,
giving the audience the impression that they were falling. As
they came off, three stage hands were stationed in the wings to
catch them.

During rehearsals, I was the first one in the theater and the last
to leave. But I always had company. Whenever I heard a sound
something like that of a giant woodpecker, I knew Fred Astaire
was somewhere in a corner working out a new ankle twister.

Fred was never entirely satisfied with his act. Long after he
opened, he would still insist on extra rehearsals. No step was ever
too hard to tackle; the more complex, the greater the challenge to
him. This eagerness for perfection and his good nature were
infectious; everyone around him wanted to work, too. These
qualities, combined with his inventive genius, took him to the
top of his profession.

Fifteen years later in the Ziegfeld production "Smiles," the
stars, Astaire and Marilyn Miller, had danced their way to fame,
but Fred was still calling for special rehearsals. The best effort
could be a little better, he insisted. Marilyn, too, had never
stopped practicing. Before the lights were turned on backstage,
she was hanging onto a piece of scenery, going through her ballet
lifts and kicks.

Would there were more actors like Marilyn Miller and Fred
Astaire!

MAKE-UP reveals the outward physical signs of the character
you are portraying just as surely as expression reveals the
physical signs of inside feeling. Therefore, it is just as important
for the actor to produce a character striking in appearance as it is
to select action that will mirror the emotional side of the character
part.

In order to do this, the beginner in the theater must master the
intricacies of make-up, a study that is fascinating and endless.
Needless to say, a knowledge of the rudiments of painting, the
mixing of pigments and blending of colors will be of value to the
student. The relation of the arts, one to the other, is obvious.

When an artist paints a portrait from life, he tries to copy
nature in the most minute detail. When the portrait is finished,
if he has done credit to his subject, the character of the sitter
shines forth from the canvas. If the individual qualities of the
subject are missing, the painter has failed, no matter how artistic
the result.

It is much the same with the actor. When he paints the portrait
of his character on his face, he must use nature as his model. True,
he may have to call on imagination for some of the details, but in
the main the picture he is striving for will be consistent with the
character he is portraying. As for his own face> the actor can well

258 THE ART OF MAKE-UP

By the expert use of putty, Raymond Massey changes the contour
of his own nose to that of Lincoln's in the play "Abe Lincoln in
Illinois," by Robert E. Sherwood. (Courtesy of Playwrights' Co.)

forget it, no matter how pleasing it may be to himself or to others.
He must loo\ his part as well as play it.

Along with a knowledge of painting, the actor often finds
himself a sculptor as well. Raymond Massey, who played Lincoln
in the Playwrights' Company production of "Abe Lincoln in
Illinois," had to be a sculptor to play the part. Working from
portraits and drawings of Lincoln, Mr. Massey used nose putty
instead of the shaped soft rubber nose affected by most portrayers

THE ART OF MAKE-UP

259

Nose remodeled, wig adjusted, Mr. Massey, with the aid of a
dark liner, accents the wrinkles around the eyes and forehead.

of the nation's hero. So perfect was the actor's arrangement that
he learned to put on the spirit gum, the putty, shape the nose,
and make it up in less than twenty minutes. The warts on his
fece were made of wax. Since the character grew older as the play
advanced, the nose had to be changed between scenes.

The most difficult nose make-up in the theater belongs to the
character Falstaff. The same season Raymond Massey was playing
Abe Lincoln, Maurice Evans was working hard putting on

260 THE ART OF MAKE-UP

Falstaff's enormous proboscis. So elaborate was the job that Mr.
Evans did not take it off on matinee days.

The actor used three strips of adhesive tape, with nostrils cut
out of the one that came down to the bridge of his nose and
tucked under the tip. He mounted two plaster bumps on the tape
and then began to work with the nose putty. It had to be a good
stout job of make-up to allow for rolling around the stage in the
battle of Shrewsbury, where Falstaff is in danger of being stepped
.on by extras. Mr. Evans made the remark that his nose prevented
him from ham acting. "I didn't dare overact/' he said. "My nose
might fall off at the end of a wave of the arm."

Students of make-up will remember another remarkable nose
belonging to the character of Frank Harris, in the production
"Oscar Wilde." Harold Young, the actor, wore the retrousse
afiair, effected by a rubber nose instead of putty. Before he arrived
at a satisfactory nose, Mr. Young tried everything from card-
board to papier-mache. Finally one of the Sen? brothers modeled
the nose from a drawing of Frank Harris. Rubber noses can be
pushed, twisted, and given a hearty pull without being
dislodged.

So successful was Sanford Meisner's Semitic nose make-up in
the revival of "Awake and Sing" (the actor's own nose has
Grecian purity of line) that Clifford Odets wrote a line in the
play, "Why, it's as plain as the nose on your face!"

But whatever the medium of make-up, wax, putty, papier-
mache, the nose must be the nose of the character himself, and
that's where the individual work comes in. There s a sharp
distinction between mafye'Up and disguise. With the help of wigs,
whis\ers, and grease paint, almost anyone with professional
experience can hide his own identity. A real actor , on the other hand,
must not only conceal his identity but present the identity of another,
and this means an understanding of the effect of color blending,
shadings, and the correct use of wigs and beards. And, most impor-
tant of all, an understanding of the character he is portraying.
Before you attempt any make-up, turn the part over and over in
your mind, until you can see an actual physical picture of the

THE ART OF MAKE-UP 26 1

character. Use the plan of character analysis suggested in Chapter
12 (How to Study a Part).

Make-up Requirements

What make-up shall I keep on hand? the young actor asks me.

Professionally speaking, in these days of one part a season, very
little make-up material is required. But the beginning student of
the art of make-up will save time and energy if he supplies himself
with as elaborate a set of make-up as was kept by the old-time
stock actor whose program compelled him to keep on hand enough
make-up to appear in any part for which he might be unexpectedly
cast. He should always buy the best quality of make-up; in the
end he will find that it is less expensive than an inferior brand.

A straight juvenile make-up would call for this material:

1. One box of cold cream

2. One tube of flesh-colored grease paint, medium shade

3. One stick of red grease paint

4. One box of medium powder

5. One large powder puff

6. One baby brush

7. One small stick of black or brown grease paint

8. Two orange sticks

9. One small box of mascara

10. One small can of wet lip rouge

11. One small box of dry rouge

12. One rabbit's foot

So many kinds of good grease paint are manufactured today that
choice becomes a matter of personal taste. Grease paint is put up
in jars, sticks, liquid form, and tubes. Tubes are the simplest to
use and the most popular. If the part you are going to play is that
of a young, strong, and virile man, use flesh paint of a ruddy,
healthy hue for a base. On the other hand, if the character is an
ascetic one, such as a poet, the flesh or base will be lighter in color.

Youth on the stage does not require a heavy grease paint make-
up. A more natural effect is produced when make-up is used
sparingly. (Fhe function of straight make-up is to intensify natural

262 THE ART OF MAKE-UP

color, which fades under strong lights. It is only when the actor
reaches middle age and finds himself still playing youthful parts
that he resorts to the heavy make-up to cover up the little telltale
lines. For grease paint can be used to eradicate wrinkles as well
as make them.

A new make-up called "panchromatic/" perfected by the mov-
ing pictures, is sometimes used on the stage. All the greases,
rouge, powder, and liners contain various shades of tan. Care
must be taken in applying this make-up to get it perfectly smooth,
for it cannot be patched. Panchromatic is also being used for
television make-up.

How to Apply Make-up

Before you attempt any actual make-up, it would be well for
you to memorise these rules:

1. Apply a small quantity of cold cream to the face, neck, and
ears.

2. Remove the cold cream with a towel or a piece of soft
cheesecloth.

3. See that your skin is absolutely dry. Enough cream will
remain to fill the pores the reason for its application.

4. Apply the grease paint, which is the foundation, or base.

5. Spread the flesh color uniformly and work gently, covering
the face, neck, and ears.

6. When the foundation is even and perfectly smooth, begin
to apply the red paint. Blend high on the cheekbones and graduate
down the sides of the cheeks to mix perfectly into the base. This
will highlight the face.

7. Now you are ready for the powder. Fill a large puff with
plenty of powder. With steady slaps, cover the wet surface until
it is completely dry.

8. With your brush, sweep the loose powder from around the
eyes and eyebrows. Sweep the face clean.

9. Take an orange stick and a black or a brown stick of paint.
Apply the paint to the orange stick. Line your eyes and eyebrows.
Apply mascara or paint to the eyelashes.

THE ART OF MAKE-UP ' 263

10. Outline the lips with wet lip rouge. If the rouge is too red,
tone it down with a little powder.

To remove make-up, use plenty of cold cream and cheesecloth.
Then wash the face, neck, and ears with soap and water.

Apply all make-up before you put on any part of your stage
costume. This is a rule never to be broken in the theater. Use a
robe or a smock while you are putting on the paint. Wear an old
felt hat without a rim to protect your hair from the powder and
paint. When your make-up is completed, wash your hands before
touching any part of your costume. If you are playing a character
part calling for hand make-up, ask someone to help you into your
costume. A bit of red paint will ruin any costume.

Modern Make-up

Make-up has come a long way since the day when whitewash
was literally scraped off the dressing-room wall and combined with
red brick dust and old burnt cork. Along with costumes and
scenery, make-up today receives full program credit in most
Broadway productions.

In these days of realism in scenic effect and costuming, there is
increased necessity for keeping up with the trend of the times in
make-up. Gone is the pink-and- white Dresden make-up of the
Lillian Russell era. Doll faces are dated; so are the simpering
countenances of the clinging vine.

The modern woman is intelligent., natural, and active, and her
make-up reflects her mood. No longer does she hide her face behind
clouds of white powder and dab on two violent circles of rouge.
Instead of bright applelike cheeks, she uses a delicate shade of
apricot or a discreet raspberry tint. She matches her lip rouge with
her cheek rouge.

Mere prettiness isn't enough for the up-to-date girl. She strives
rather for the effect of character and smartness. Any cosmetic
shop or department store specialist will work out a make-up to
suit the personality of the young actress.

264 THE ART OF MAKE-UP

Crepe Hair

Crepe hair is used to make mustaches, beards, false eyebrows,
and sideburns. This rope of plaited hair comes in many colors
blond, brown, black, red, silver-gray, and light-gray. It is sold by
the yard, goes a long way, and is inexpensive.

The real trick in handling crepe hair lies in pulling the hair
through the comb.

To make a mustache, loosen the strands of crepe hair and pull
it through the comb so that the hair runs in one direction. Cut
off the amount of hair needed and roll it between the hands. Then
shape the two ends to a point. Cut the mustache in the middle
and apply half to each side of the lips. By making the mustache in
two parts, the lips are given freedom in speech.

In order to save time, most professionals get their mustaches
from the wigmaker. But each new actor should learn how to make
his own mustache. It is easy enough to misplace a small dab of
hair, the size of a mustache, when the wigmaker isn't at hand.

In making false eyebrows, follow the directions for making
beards, but use a smaller quantity of hair.

In the production of *Td Rather Be Right," starring George
M. Cohan, one of the high spots in the show was a chorus number
in which nine Supreme Court judges, complete with long gray
beards and flowing black robes, went into a series of pirouettes
and cartwheels. To the amazement of everyone, the beards
stayed on.

Beards suggest an endless chain of historic characters: Bill
Cody's goatee, the handsome bkck handle bars of the barkeeper
of the nineties, Kaiser Wilhelm's imperial waxed appendage, King
Edward's Vandyke. Beards and mustaches may be comic, as in
the case of Chaplin's toothbrush, or dignified, like the sweeping
beard of a Chinese dignitary. They can bristle, or they can flow
gently down the chest.

Otis Skinner was once cast as a bearded and puttynosed
alchemist. The action of the play required that he bend over a

THE ART OF MAKE-UP ' 265

steaming caldron to mix his devilish brew. As he muttered his
magic abracadabra, some inflammatory powder burst into flame
inside the kettle. All went well until one night, in his acting 2al,
he bent too far over the caldron. Whiskers, eyebrows and false
nose completely disappeared as though in the wake of a prairie
fire, not to mention the singeing that his wig received.

Beards

Any kind of beard can be made with crepe hair. Since a Vandyke
is the simplest, let us use it for our first example. Loosen about two
inches at the end of the strand so that it will comb out easily.
Comb out enough hair to make a medium-sized beard. Let the hair
remain on the comb. Shape the beard and cut it off square on the
other side of the comb. Now hollow out the center to fit the chin.
Apply the glue to the chin and stick on the beard.

With the glue brush, draw in the rest of the beard with the glue,
so that it joins in with your own hair. Cut crepe hair in very fine
pieces, about a sixteenth of an inch in length, onto a piece of
paper. With a wad of cotton, apply the small particles to the space
where you have painted on the glue. Put on the finishing touches
with a black liner. Trim the beard to fit your requirements.

Unshaven Face

The effect of a five days' growth of hair on the face can be made
by a daub of dark-blue liner rubbed over the parts of the face
where the beard grows. The more effective method is to cover the
space with glue, cut the crepe hair very fine onto a paper, and then
apply the hair with a wad of cotton.

Wigs

Choosing a wig is like choosing a hat. Some of us look well in an
off'the-face halo; others prefer the low brim. Whether it be page
boy or crew cut, the hairline should be in harmony with the whole
facial contour. For instance, if you have a wide, round face, you
will avoid bangs. And if you have an extremely high forehead,
you will not sweep the hair into a higher pompadour.

266 THE ART OF MAKE-UP

Cutting crepe hair. Upper, combing hair from plait; center, hair detached
from plait; lower, trimming off excess hair, releasing formed beard on
other side of comb.

THE ART OF MAKE-UP 267

A full wig makes the face seem larger. A close-fitting one tends
to elongate the face. A wig dressed high adds stature. Blond wigs
soften the face and contribute a youthful effect.

Putting on a Wig

See that the wig is thinned out and shaped to fit the facial con-
tour. Don't pull on the wig as you would a cap; handle it care-
fully. Grasp it with the hands at the point where it goes around
the ears.

Place the wig band in the correct position on the forehead.
Pull the wig down carefully in the back. Now, with grease paint,
blend the color of the forehead with the wig so that the join does
not show. See that none of your own hair shows at the back. The
sides and back are the telltale points of wig wearing.

In the quick stage change, when time is at a premium, the wig
is a blessing. During the run of "Show Boat/' 1 Nonna Terris wore
her own curls as a young girl of the play in the opening, a pompa-
doured wig as a matron in the middle of the play, a white wig as
Magnolia grown old.

A good wig is one that to the careful observer isn't a wig at all.
And in these days of wigmaking, such deception is perfectly
possible.

A number of years ago, I remember, Marilyn Miller turned
down Mr. Ziegfeld's offer of the leading role in "East Is West"
because she would have had to wear the black wig of a Chinese
girl. So sure was she that the character make-up would be unsuc-
cessful that the idea was dropped, and the play was never pro-
duced, although thousands of dollars had been spent on authentic
Chinese costumes, and plans for the production were well on
the way.

Make-up for Middle Age

To "make up for middle age is a more difficult task for the youth-
ful player than to try, through the medium of make-up, to depict
decrepit old age.

268 ' THE ART OF MAKE-UP

Although the make-up for middle age does not call for many
lines, such lines as are used must be placed at exactly the proper
location just as the lines in the face of middle age are naturally
placed.

EXERCISES

1. Look at your face in the mirror.

2. Wrinkle the brow; then follow the forehead lines with a
colored liner (red or brown).

3. Next squint the eyes; draw crow's-feet with a liner.

4. Look for the line from the nose to the mouth; outline this
with a liner.

5. Now highlight these lines and watch the effect.

6. If you haven't achieved the right middle age, add a mustache
and don a pair of glasses.

7- Put a touch of gray to the hair.

' By following the natural lines in the face and intensifying the
wrinkles, you will get the most realistic effects of middle age.

Increasing age is shown by heavier lines and shadows. These
lines are made by lowlighting.

Old age in make-up is indicated by a downward line; youth,
by an upward line.

Each kind of make-up, juvenile, middle-age or old-age, has a
foundation of flesh-tone paint. And for each of these periods
there is a variety of colors, running from light shades to more
ruddy hues. A young man may have a sallow complexion, just as
a middle-aged or old person may have a very ruddy face.

To simplify the matter, we shall consider two foundations: a
medium sallow for middle age and a pale sallow for old age. With
a little blending of these two foundations, you can get any shade
you may require*

Blending Liners and Colors

Liners are thin sticks of grease paint that come in a variety of
colors red, dark-gray, light-gray, white, black, brown. The
orangewood sticks used to apply paint where careful lines are

THE ART OF MAKE-UP ' 269

Upper picture, low lights and wrinkles; lower left, high lights; center,
high lights and low lights.

270 THE ART OF MAKE-UP

* sv*',r''W r x~**'~' ! '~. * rr """'. ~

Study in character make-up.

Make-up of face: youth to age. Upper center, youth; center, middle age;
lower right, old age.

THE ART OF MAKE-UP 271

required are also called liners. These liners are convenient^ for
making wrinkles and for highlighting. Some actors use the art i st s
ordinary paper stumps for blending and making high kghts.

To create wrinkles, the actor uses red or brown liners for middle
age or very dark gray or brown for older characters. The brown
or black liners he uses to line the eyes or eyebrows.

Character Make-up

Before we try character make-up, let us study the drawings
on page 270. They show three periods in the progress of a char-
acter make-up. The first shows the unlined face. In the second,
age has been lined in on the face. The third is the completed
character make-up for old age.

Study in Character Make-up

Cover the face, neck, and ears with cold cream and wipe them
off dry. Spread flesh paint carefully over your face, neck, and ears.
Underline the eyes with brown or gray, carrying the line about a
sixteenth of an inch below the lower rim. Smudge with the fingers.
Highlight with gray or brown liner. This gives the effect of a deep
circle. Next work dark-gray paint onto the fingers and apply it
to the cheeks in the shape of a triangle to create a sunken effect.
These are the shadows; they are called low lights. With light-
gray paint on the finger, blend out the edges. With the orange
stick and brown or red paint, line in the wrinkles on your fore-
head. Then draw in the crow's-feet. Place lines under the eyes;
accentuate the mouth lines. Line the neck. Now place light-gray
paint on a stick and highlight the wrinkles. Apply wllite P aint
up on the cheekbones to create the high light and intensify the
effect. Powder completely dry.

Put on your wig carefully. Blend wig band. Line the eyes and
eyebrows. Now you are ready for a beard or false eyebrows.

A Story in Grease Paint

When we put on a make-up, we are telling a story wit k grease
paint. All that we are and hope to be is registered on our faces.

2?2 THE ART OF MAKE'UP

Helen Hayes making up for the role of the aged Queen Victoria in the
play "Victoria Regina." After grease paint has been applied, Miss
Hayes, with the aid of a liner, draws in the shape of the eye. Notice
how the effect of deep circles is achieved. (Courtesy of Life Magazine
and Helen Hayes.)

As our characters form and develop, the contours, expressions,
and muscles of our faces change. Obstacle is a character builder,
and each hurdle taken is registered on the face. None of us was
bom with thin, tightly compressed lips, outthrust jaw, narrow,
sharp nose, sagging chin. Life and experience put them there.

So it is with make-up!

When we make up we are painting:

Time (age) wrinkles, sagging muscles, fading skin.

Background (inheritance) natural skin pigmentation and
texture, color of hair, eyelashes, nerve muscles; (environment)

THE ART OF MAKE-UP

273

After the eyes are drawn in, Miss Hayes now adds lines about the
mouth to increase the illusion of old age. To produce the effect of sagging
jowls, Miss Hayes inserts two wads of cotton in her mouth. (Courtesy
of Life Magazine and Helen Hayes.)

the ruddy complexion of the outdoor person in contrast to the
pasty skin of the clerk.

Character the set of the jaw, muscular control of mouth,
eye, and nose muscles.

The lines of our face tell whether we are weak or strong, in-
dulged or controlled.

Mouth

As the eye is the barometer of the intellect, the mouth is the
barometer of the emotions. As the person grows in years, the
mouth strengthens or weakens. Mental action brings the upper

274

THE ART OF MAKE-UP

After a coating of powder the facial makeup iscomplete. Miss Hayes now
carefully adjusts a gray wig. (Courtesy of Life Magazine and Helen Hayes.)

lip downward; the lower lip and chin pull upward (thus you
have the outthrust chin and jaw). Concentration tightens the
muscles around the mouth: lack of control loosens the mouth.

Even in repose, little lines around the mouth testify to the
emotional control of the person. These are the lines we study
and model after when we create character in grease paint.

The mouth expresses:
Mood:

1. Joy (smile or laughter)

2. Defeat (drooping lips)

3. Bitterness (down at the corners)

4. Anger (compressed)

5. Fear (open)

THE ART OF MAKE-UP ' 2J5

The final touch to this superlative make-up is a small white cap. Then
Miss Hayes is ready to don her costume for the Balmoral scene with
Disraeli. (Courtesy of Life Magazine and Helen Hayes.)

Background:

1. Repression (thin, tight disapproval)

2. Craftiness (pursed)

3. Determination (compressed)

4. Sensuality (overdeveloped)
Age:

1. Thin, dry (turned in)

2. Uncontrolled

3. Youth (full, half-parted)
Characteristics:

1. Gnawing and biting lips

2. Twitching

276 THE ART OF MAKE-UP

3. Pouting

4. Loose, uncontrolled lips

In making up the mouth, follow the natural line unless you are
playing character or old age. To make the lips fuller, extend the
outer edges beyond the natural line of your own. To cut down the
lips, don't extend the rouge to its natural line.

Thin, compressed lips are achieved by carrying the face grease
paint almost to the line where the lips meet when closed and
drawing a fine, straight line across the mouth with lip rouge to
which a little gray has been mixed.

In building or cutting down the siz;e of the lips, always cover
the mouth first with the color of the grease paint used on the
face. Then powder over lightly. In this way, the mouth becomes
dry and provides a better foundation upon which to draw the
new mouth. Shape the new mouth by using an orange stick or
toothpick dipped in Hp rouge. First outline the shape desired and
then fill it in with rouge.

Eyes

The lines about the eyes tell as much about the character as
the shape of the eye itself. Again in make-up we have revelation
of background, age, and mood. Those who work outdoors in the
sun men of the sea, farmers, cowboys all have heavy crow's-
feet about the eyes. The eye of the miser narrows with crafty
thought. The eye of youth is clear and wide. The clerk who con-
centrates over figures is likely to squint. The deep thinker has
furrows between his eyes and marked lines on his brow.

By extending the lines around the eyes, they can be made to
seem fuller. With a dark eye pencil, draw a line at the top, at the
bottom, and at the outer corner. Follow the natural line of the
eye but extend it all the way round, about an eighth of an inch.
Then, inside that line, with a white liner, follow the natural rim
of the lower lid. The object of this work is to create the illusion
of a larger eyeball.

Colored liners are often used on the upper lid to add sise and
brilliance to the eye. Usually, in a straight make-up, the color

THE ART OF MAKE-UP 277

selected blends with the color of the actor's own eyes, which may
be blue, brown, or gray. Since the effect wanted is that of a
shadowing, be careful to blend it in smoothly, and follow the
natural shape of the lid. At the outer edge of the eye, take care
not to leave a sharp line, but shade it smoothly into the grease
paint used on the face. Some actors make up only the lower half
of the lid, beginning about halfway up and shading down.

Chinese Eyes

At the dress rehearsal of a recent revival of "The Mikado,"
which I directed, the make-up of the chorus was weird indeed.
Eyebrows went in all directions, on the bias, perpendicularly,
and straight up.

Chinese and Japanese eyes are oblong and small. The eyebrows
are high and up at an angle (but be sure of the correct angle).
To make up for the part of an Oriental, first flatten down your
own eyebrow with soft soap. When it is dry, cover it with grease
paint of the same shade that you use on the face. Then, with a
black liner, paint on the new eyebrow in a thin line slanting
upward. At the outer corner of the eye, put another line, slanting
upward, about a quarter of an inch long.

To get the puffy effect under the eyes that a drinker has, draw
a rim of white around the lower lid. On either side of the white
line, edge with dark brown.

Eyebrows and Eyelashes

Eyebrows are a great aid to building a character. Thick black
(beetle) brows accentuate the size of the eye, giving a staring
effect; brought low, they shade the eye, causing the appearance
of dullness. By the use of the eyebrow, the height of the forehead
may be increased or diminished. False eyelashes are today very
popular with feminine actresses and are more effective than the
heavily beaded ones of the old days.

278 ' THE ART OF MAKE-UP

^^mmm^ :*^mm

Hands from youth to old age.
Lower left, youth; center, middle age; lower right, old age.

THE ART OF MAKE-UP 279

Hand Make-up

Many actors believe that if they use their hands in the proper
physical gestures of the character their obligation ceases. But
they are wrong. Hands wrinkle and shrivel; they become gnarled
and lean with age. The actor's hand should show this.

The advertising endorsements today have made people more
hand-conscious than ever before. If you saw an actress playing
an Irish washwoman, authentically dressed in shapeless gingham,
comfort shoes, and scraggly hair but with beautifully tapered
white hands and long scarlet nails, you would know she had
slipped up on her make-up.

In playing straight parts, the hand make-up, which is most desir-
able in lotion form, should be in keeping with the face make-up.

If you are playing a delicate invalid and are naturally endowed
with strong, healthy hands, you must make them up to look long,
thin, and transparent. This effect is achieved by putting blue
shadows between the fingers and highlighting the tops of the
fingers and tendons of the hands with white.

Character in Hands

A bookkeeper or stenographer has ink-stained, smudged hands
(a bookkeeper might wear sleeve protectors). A cook might wear
a bit of court plaster to hide a burn or a cut. Dentists, hairdressers,
washwomen anyone whose hands are in water a great deal
have red, shriveled hands. Musicians never wear long nails. A
thimble, a ring, a smudge of ink will add character to your hands.
These are make-up points to remember.

In fleshy hands the bones are well covered, but in thin hands
the flesh sinks between the bones, making them prominent. By
highlighting and shadowing, age, illness, and character can be
conveyed to a hand.

Cover the hand with grease paint of the same shade as used for
the face. Then, with gray or light-blue liner, draw in the shadows
between the tendons. Blend smoothly so that the gray shades
into the flesh paint. To intensify the effect of emaciation, draw

280 THE ART OF MAKE-UP

white lines over the top of the fingers (the bones and tendons on
the back of the hand). Thus you highlight the bones and lowlight
the flesh between.

Arm Make-up

Make-up on the arms should be carried as far as your costume
requires. Where the effect of prominent veins is wanted (for veins
stand out), intensify the veins with blue liner and shade the liner
on each side with light brown, blinding it into the foundation
grease paint.

Finger Make-up

To lengthen the fingers, put gray shadowing between the
knuckles. Even the position of the knuckles may be changed by
painting on false knuckles with white liner.

Noses

A sharp, well-shaped nose indicates a keen intellect and mental
activity, because in deep concentration the muscles tense and
become firm. The shape of the nostril and general structure of the
nose show breeding; the width of the bridge between the eyes
shows character. Supersensitive people betray their emotion by
allowing their nostrils to quiver and dilate.

Noses also indicate how the owner breathes. If the nostrils
are wide and active, the entire nose-functioning breathing will
be deep. An abnormally narrow nose or flat nose usually means
that the breathing is high in the chest.

Emotional indulgence is betrayed by the looseness of the muscle
structure at the nostrils. Everyone is familiar with the red bulbous
nose of the drinker or loose liver.

The shape of the nose may be altered by grease paint as well
as by the use of putty. The effect of a thin nose may be had by
highlighting. Draw a thin straight line of white down the bridge
of the nose; then shade the sides with light gray. Powder over it.

The effect of a retrousse nose can be had by applying gray
shadowing just over the tip.

THE ART OF MAKE-UP ' 281

A crooked or broken nose is simulated by painting a crooked
line down the bridge of the nose and highlighting it on either side
with white.

Putty Noses

In applying putty, the nose should be entirely free from grease.
Otherwise the putty won't stick. The putty can be molded into
any shape. It is usually formed after it has been put on the face.
When the desired shape is completed, use the cold cream on the
face as usual, then the flesh grease paint. Cover the putty nose
with grease paint just as you would your own nose. Then apply
the powder.

Don't Forget Your Ears!

Ear muffs in summer! That is the effect you will get if you are
playing a sun-tanned god and forget to match your own pallid
ears to your ruddy face and neck.

Ears have character, too. A well-cut ear, uniformly shaped and
close to the head, indicates breeding and sensitiveness. Not all
ears have well-developed lobes, but they can be built up. To
lengthen the ear lobe, paste on bits of wool that have been cut
to the shape of the ear and covered with grease paint. The ears
can be pushed forward by placing a lump of putty behind them,
or they can be flattened close to the head with adhesive tape.

Changing Facial Contours

Facial contours may be changed by the use of putty, grease
paint (high and low lighting), and "plumpers," which may mean
anything from a wad of cotton to a piece of apple inserted in the
mouth to pad out the cheeks.

The effect of high cheekbones, characteristic of the Indian,
may be achieved by adding putty to the bone structure and
covering the putty with dark grease paint. Or the cheekbone
can be highlighted with a light grease paint blended with dark
brown, to produce the same result.

282 THE ART OF MAKE-UP

High lights and low lights.
1, Low lights; 2, wrinkles high lighted; 3, high lights; 4, high lights.

THE ART OF MAKE'UP 283

With the aid of putty, chins can be made strong and square or
thin and pointed. The chin may also be made more conspicuous
by highlighting with white grease paint.

High and Low Lighting

The whole character of a face may be altered by putting a
lighter shade of grease paint on the particular feature that is to be
emphasized. Cheekbone, chin, nose, and brow are the spots where
high lights are most used. A sunken effect is achieved by the con-
trasting of two highlighting effects on either side of a dark one.

Low lights are used to create the effect of sunken eyes, hollow
cheeks, and wrinkles. Light-gray or brown paint is usually best
for lowlighting. The darker the shade the more intense the effect.
When combined with high lights, the effect is still stronger.

Blackface Make-up

In the old days, when an actor was asked about his experience,
he replied, "I did black with Dock," meaning that he had played
minstrel shows with Lew Dockstader.

Long ago an actor bought his own cork and burned it over a
spirit lamp. Now it is available in cans ready for instant use.
Burnt cork is made of vegetable matter and comes off easily with
soap and water.

To apply burnt cork, first moisten the face with water. After
reducing a small piece of cork with water into a paste, rub it on
the palms and then spread it on the face, neck, and forehead.
First outline the mouth and eyes with a stick dipped in cork.
Don't use lip rouge; leave the mouth its natural color.

Cover the hands with black gloves. If you prefer to make up
the hands blacken only the backs.

When playing an old colored servant a butler or "mammy"
type dark-brown grease paint is more effective than cork,
since it is then possible to draw in wrinkles. Draw wrinkle lines
with black. On either side of the black line, edge with a white
liner and then blend with the brown grease paint.

284 ' THE ART OF MAKE-UP

In "Whoopee/" ZiegfelcTs musical-comedy version of Owen
Davis 1 farce, "The Nervous Wreck," we faced the problem of
finding a natural spot for Eddie Cantor, the star, to do his black'
face specialty.

Cantor played a timid man who was plagued with imaginary
ailments. Innocently involved with the sheriffs sweetheart,
Eddie was hiding with the girl in the kitchen of a ranch house
-when the sheriff appeared in pursuit. Cantor spied the stove and
dove into the oven door. The sheriff gave warning to the posse,
"Don't let a white man get by you"

Then one of the ranch-house cowboys lit the kitchen stove. It
exploded, and out of the oven came Cantor in blackface.

Not only was this an excellent kugh getter, but it was an
expert job of making up, done in not more than a minute and a
half. At first we were doubtful that it could be done, but Cantor,
an expert in blackface, was able to accomplish the feat.

into

IT HAS been said that the "character actor" is one who is not
expected to make love to the heroine. Actually, anyone who
engages in the profession of acting, from the baby player to the
doddering old crone, is a "character actor." Stepping out of his
own personality and into the character of the person he is playing
is his job, and the more accurately he interprets the play character
the more successful is his career.

Of course, as the actor grows older and loses some of his good
looks and youthful spontaneity, the interpretive aspects of charac-
ter playing become more and more important. As Sam Dodsworth
shouted to his wife Fran, in the play, "Dodsworth," "You'll have
to stop getting younger some day," so will the actor have to
face the problem of old age. When he outgrows his "ingenue" or
"juvenile" stage, his ability to portray characters other than
young romantic types will keep his name alive for years.

The playwright creates a character, and the player brings the
character to life. Many a mediocre play has been carried to success
by the individual performance of one actor. Many a fine play has
failed because the leading man or woman acted himself instead of
submerging his personality in the part. Such an actor must have a
role to fit his type and personality. He has no inventive genius to
carry him along. When his vogue is over, he is retired -just at the
time when he should be reaching professional maturity.

286 ' STEPPING INTO CHARACTER

How a Part Is Built

In creating a character, the playwright draws from life or
imagination. No matter how complex or simple the character, he
must give him background, philosophy, and appearance. To do
this, he may borrow a mannerism from one source, a trait from
another, a philosophy from his own beliefs or from those of others.
When the part is turned over to the actor for interpretation, it
is as close to perfection as the playwright can make it.

Studying Character

In studying the character he is to portray, the actor must use
one of two sources: observation of real life or imagination of a
world of fancy.

The study of character is the study of human behavior as it
reveals itself in situations significant to the pattern of living.
All our actions, speech, appearance, and modes of living reveal
our characters. Through them we show how we differ from others.
The courageous man who buys a small business and goes out on
his own can be contrasted with the man who, bound by fear,
slaves in an office and hates his job. The absent-minded professor
(Mr. Chips), who cares nothing for his personal appearance,
differs from the flashily dressed gangster of Franchot Tone's
characterization in "The Gentle People."

These contrasts in character are made clear to the audience
through what the actor says and does as well as through his
appearance.

Character Traits

A character trait is a stereotyped reaction to environment. It is
the character's habitual manner of responding to a given situation
through action, emotion, and thought. Character traits, which are
established early in life, seldom change. The selfish, bold boy
remains selfish and bold. The vain, callous girl does not often
grow into a gentle, compassionate adult.

STEPPING INTO CHARACTER 28?

Look for these traits in the people whom you know. Ask your-
self: How is each trait revealed through (1) appearance, (2)
behavior, (3) speech?

LIST OF CHARACTER TRAITS

affection idealism energy

contentment inventiveness placidity

indifference inferiority boldness

enthusiasm ambition indolence

amorousness craftiness belligerence

selfishness caution boisterousness

generosity reflectiveness impulsiveness

cowardice confusion dominance

bravery imaginativeness restlessness

fastidiousness disposition to be critical

Creating a Character

Sooner or later the young actor will be called upon to present
a character of his own creation. By his inventions, he will make
that character his own. He will add pieces of stage business
that he associates with the character's main trait: a limp, a
palsied walk, a stutter all little human touches that will add
novelty and truth to the interpretation.

I once gave the part of an old man to a twenty-year-old player.
It was only a bit, but the role was important to the success of the
play. The boy took it on with the intelligence of an old-timer.
By the opening night, he had acquired the facial resemblance of
an elderly man and, at the same time, had learned how to walk
and talk in the manner of the aged.

I asked him how he had accomplished the feat of adding fifty
years to his appearance and manner. The answer was the only
sensible one: he had sought a counterpart in real life. He had
studied his own grandfather!

In the theater, he asked the advice of experienced make-up
artists on wigs, whiskers, and wrinkles. Patiently, the elaborate
make-up was put on and taken off every night during rehearsals

288

STEPPING INTO CHARACTER

Raymond Ivlassey as the young circuit-riding
lawyer, Lincoln, in the Playwrights* production of
" Abe Lincoln in Illinois.'*'

Stovepipe hat, bow tie, high boots give authentic
costume touches to the characterisation. (Courtesy
of Playwrights" Co.)

STEPPING INTO CHARACTER 289

when no one, least of all the director, expected the actor to turn
up in costume.

The boy relied on initiative, determination, alertness, and
planning. Needless to say, he was letter-perfect in the part.

How to Develop Character in the Theater

You are a new player; you have been given your first real part,
that of a coal heaver. You aren't a coal heaver, and you do not
number one among your acquaintances. You ask yourself, have
I ever seen a coal heaver at close range? If not, you go out to look
for one.

You find him. His face is smudged with coal dust, his shirt
dirty and torn. A rope is tied around his waist in place of a belt.
His shoes are brogans (usually worn by kborers). He wears an
old felt hat with the rim torn off, held together by a union button
pinned through the crown. Here is your coal heaver in real life.

Next, you engage in conversation. You study his gestures,
intonations, the use of his hands. Before you leave him, you have
a complete picture of a coal heaver. Then it is up to you to carry
out that picture in your own portrayal and, at the same time,
keep it consistent with the playwright's original conception.

When an actor who is creating a character in a costume play
cannot base his interpretation on actual observation, he must
depend on intensive research, plus imagination. This he can get
from books, that describe the character, period, or location in
which the play is laid.

Character Building from the Outside

The actor is the only artist who can at the same time create and
be his own creation. The painter, sculptor, author, or composer
sets down his creation for someone else to interpret; the actor is
given the privilege of living the thing he has created.

To do this, he calls on certain devices for building character
from the outside:

1. Appearance

2. Props %

290 ' STEPPING INTO CHARACTER

3. Mannerisms

4. Walk

5. Posture

6. Talk

Appearance

Is the character to be created vain or indifferent? Neat or care-
less? Does he wear bright socks, ties, or hobnailed shoes? Trousers
of one kind? Coat of another? Does he dress correctly for all
occasions, or does he never have the right thing? Does he wear a
muffler, rubbers, blue jeans, high boots, dungarees, sports clothes,
a butcher's uniform, a miner's cap? If a woman, does she wear
flashy costumes, simple, expensive clothes, jewelry, high heels or
ground grippers, unusual hats? Is she fastidious or careless? Does
she wear the uniform of a maid, hairdresser, cook?

Props

Does he smoke a pipe, wear a heavy gold watch chain, carry
an umbrella, wear a silver leg (Walter Huston did in "Knicker-
bocker Holiday"), use an old-fashioned purse? If a woman, does
she (like Irene in "Idiot's Delight") carry a long cigarette holder?
Constantly use a compact? Does she carry a piece of pie around
with her, as did the old grandmother in "Personal Appearance' 7
Or a sun lamp and hot-water bottle (the hypochondriac mother
in "The Gentle People")? Does she have to have a "silk piece"
put on her lap upon which to fold her hands, like the old woman
in "Double Doors"? Does she carry a piece of embroidery, as did
Helen Hayes in "Victoria Regina"? The parasol and guitar of
Cindy Lou in "Kiss the Boys Goodbye"? Or the tray of the
waitress in "Boy Meets Girl"?

Mannerisms

Does he stick his hands in his pockets, rock back and forth on
his heels, tweak his mustache or eyebrows, clear his throat,
moisten his lips? Does he crack Indian nuts (like the producer in
"Once in a Lifetime")? Does he peer over his eyeglasses (like

STEPPING INTO CHARACTER * 291

Grandpa Vanderhof in "You Can't Take It with You" or
George M. Cohan in "Ah, Wilderness")? Does he stroke his chin,
wave his fork around between bites? (Actors often have to eat a
full meal on the stage. Leslie Howard did in "The Petrified
Forest.") Does she nibble at her nails, tap her foot, pat her hair,
use her make-up in public, hum aloud, munch apples and candy,
or chew gum noisily? Does she snee2 and sniffle, as did Zeena
in "Ethan Frome"?

Walk

Does he shuffle, stride, limp, roll like a sailor, walk with the
stiff gait of a cowboy? Does he kick his heels out or toe in? If
the character is a woman, does she mince, glide, or trot? Do her
heels make a clicking noise?

Posture

Does he slump, sprawl, or perch on the edge of his chair?
Does he stretch his legs in front of him or put them together?
Are his hands folded in his lap? Does his spine seem a ramrod., or
does he sit all in a lump? Does he drape one leg over the arm of
the chair? Put his feet on a desk?

Does she curl up with one foot under her? Does she manage to
suggest a beautiful and studied pose? Does she sit nervously on
the edge of the chair? Does she like to rock? Sit on the floor cross-
legged? Does she expose her handsome legs, or does she modestly
pull down her skirt?

Talk

Does he use a nasal twang in a nervous staccato manner?
an indifferent drawl? Is his voice hard and raspy, as is the voice
of a hawker, a gangster? Is it breathy, as in a fighter or athlete?
High-pitched, as in a singer? Cultivated or slangy? If the character
is a woman, is her voice shrill, soothing, monotonous, or musical?

Chic Sale's knowledge of small-town people, with whom he'd
been associated all his life, gave him an unlimited supply of rural
characters. He was able to throw character and humor into his

292 STEPPING INTO CHARACTER

voice by assuming a high-pitched, cracked tone. Studying simple
country folk was really a hobby with him. One of his best
characterizations, in a Shubert revue, was that of an old soldier
who played in the band. He came on the stage in a faded blue
uniform, knees bent, shoulders drooping, lugging his beloved
"tubby," a big brass horn. It took him about five minutes to get
settled. First he tried to cross his knees; then he had to use his
hand to manipulate the one game leg. He looked around for a
spittoon; finding none, he swallowed with a loud gulp. Then he
announced in a thin, high voice, fc Tm goin 1 ter play 'Marching
through Georgia 1 with variations and double stops!""

The Sale brand of characterization was peculiarly his own. He
liked the rural people he portrayed; he felt them.

Analysis of Characterisation

In Sam and Fran Dodsworth, Sinclair Lewis has created two
of the finest characters in fiction or the theater (the play adapta-
tion was by Sidney Howard). Although the man and woman are
ordinary middle-aged American people, the parts are crammed
with character effects and rich in dramatic possibilities.

Sam Dodsworth (as played by Walter Huston) and Fran (as
played by Fay Bainter) had no help from unusual costuming,
props, or artificial devices. The strength of each characteri2ation
lay in good acting illuminated by a clear conception of the people
they were portraying.

EXAMPLE

SAM DODSWORTH

Main Trait: Loyalty

A thinker: His books are to be read; they are not for atmosphere.

Affectionate: After twenty years of married life he still makes
romantic love to his wife.

A worker: The thought of selling his automobile factory leaves
him bewildered.

Sentimental: Fran's desire to sell their home shocks him After
a short stay in Europe, he wants to go home to his class reunion.

STEPPING INTO CHARACTER 293

He refuses to leave without Fran. When his daughter's child is
born, he wants to be in Zenith with her.

Loyal: He won't hear his home town, Zenith, maligned, even
by Fran. Through all her escapades and flirtations, he sticks by
his wife until the end.

Solicitous: The idea of his daughter's flying to see him doesn't
appeal because of the danger.

Enthusiastic: Europe to Sam means sight-seeing.

Touthfully naive: The first glimpse of English soil from ship-
board excites him immensely. He is surprised to know that
people like Mrs. Cortright live in Italy.

Romantic: To Sam, the trip is a belated honeymoon earned
after long years of work. He has the true desire of a mate to share.

Imaginative: The lights on the English coast line mean Jane
Austen and Robin Hood. In Paris, the rose window in a cathedral
stirs him.

Boyish: Embarrassment seizes him when he realises he has
asked Mrs. Cortright too many questions.

Realistic: He doesn't believe in fortune reading through cards.
He tries to tell Fran that worth-while Europeans wouldn't
bother with two hicks like them. His attitude toward Fran's men
friends is never melodramatic.

Human: He likes to walk around the house without his coat.
He refuses to snub his American business friends in London.

Humble: He is appreciative of the smallest crumbs of praise
from Fran. Traveling has a humbling effect upon him; it shows
him his unimportance.

Tender: When the Englishman friend of Fran's insults her, Sam
takes her part.

Humorous: He asks Fran if he is supposed to shoot the man.
Later, when a travel clerk suggests he visit some Greek ruins
in a state of excellent preservation, he replies that that is more
than he can say about himself.

Creative: He is proud of his part in creating American cars. He
installs a motor on the Italian fisherman's sailboat. He dreams of
building an airplane line from Moscow to Seattle.

294 ' STEPPING INTO CHARACTER

Lonely: Fran has drifted away from him. His business is no
longer his. He can't even find an old crony to lunch with.

Settled: He wants his mail, cigars, liquor to be in the same place
at home.

Tolerant: He puts up with Fran's flirtations and nagging.

Sensitive: When he and Fran break up, he hesitates to confide
in Mrs. Cortright.

Manly: Likes to fish, hunt, swim; he drinks like a man.

Protective: Even when Fran asks for a divorce in order to marry
a younger man, Sam begs her to wait and first be sure of the man.

FRAN DODSWORTH
Main Trait: Selfishness

Childish: For Fran, the trip to Europe is an attempt to escape
the reality of approaching age. She is coy; she uses baby talk.

Irresponsible: In this bolt for freedom, home ties and family
are unimportant.

Critical: Zenith, their home, is to Fran a half-baked Middle
Western town.

Vain: She can dance longer and better than her daughter. She
can pass for thirty. Her clothes and appearance are her chief
concern. The thought of becoming a grandmother horrifies her.

Flirtatious: On board ship she loses no time in cultivating an
Englishman.

Snob: She criticises her fellow American travelers. She snubs
Sam's American business friends in London. She won't sit in a
sidewalk cafe with Sam because it isn't smart.

Unsympathetic: She refuses to watch the lights from the ship
with Sam, preferring to dance with a comparative stranger.

Climber: She sees Sam as a future ambassador. The flowers
sent her by an Englishwoman of noble birth impress her only
because they come from the castle garden. An invitation to visit
the English countryside means that she has met the right people.

Nagger: Sam's books annoy Fran. They are out of place in the
apartment. She insists that Sam wear his coat. She compels

STEPPING INTO CHARACTER * 295

him to wait on her. Her nagging is her final undoing. When she
reproaches Sam for asking her to sit in the drafty ship's bar, he
can no longer endure her; he leaves forever.

Prudish: When the Englishman succumbs to her flirtations and
asks Fran to come to his apartment for tea, she becomes indignant.

Crafty: Sam is her protection so that she can safely carry on her
flirtations. She leases a villa with the idea of sending Sam back to
America, leaving her free to do as she pleases.

Tsjaive: She is impressed and flattered on being recognized by
a few unimportant Europeans.

Jealous: She is quick to sense the attractiveness of Mrs. Cort-
right and her possible attraction for Sam.

From this analysis, the beginner will see that every bit of
behavior selected by the author is aimed directly at the most
important things he has to say about Sam and Fran Dodsworth.
In other words, he has revealed what they are through what they

do and say.

In the same manner, the actors, Mr. Huston and Miss Bainter,
have carried on the interpretation. They have played the parts,
inside and outside, with perfect understanding. They have a
hundred ways to express as actors what the playwright has put
in the lines.

Often the strength of a character trait is intensified by lac\ of
reaction to a powerful stimulus that is, by his inhibitions an
actor may reveal his personality.

For instance, Sam Dodsworth was so much in love with his wife
until the end of the play that he revealed his sense of loyalty
and love for her by closing his eyes to her stupid and dangerous
flirtations. And because of his idealistic love and his hatred of
divorce, Sam overlooked Fran's vanity and nagging.

A character trait can be revealed by reverse action. What the
actor does is contrary to what he is. There is the man who swaggers,
loudly, and pretends bravery to hide his inferiority. Again,

296 ' STEPPING INTO CHARACTER

there is the timid man who is "brave at heart and proves it during a
crisis.

Example: The young actress in "Accent on Youth" preferred
lounging on a couch and knitting while her middle-aged author
husband read aloud to enjoying the company of younger men.
This action revealed that although she was young and attractive
her main trait was desire for a settled domestic existence.

Thematic Characterization

It is not uncommon for a playwright to illustrate the theme of
his pky through the development of his main character. Such
is the case in "You Can't Take It with You/ 1 in which the
author, George S. Kaufman, selects Grandpa Vanderhof as the
medium through which his theme, "Money isn't everything,"
is brought home to the audience. Every bit of dialogue and action
given to the whimsical elderly character is aimed directly at that
philosophy.

Life is a simple thing if you just relax and enjoy it, believes
Grandpa. The world is all right; it is the people in it that are
wrong. If we didn't worry so much about making money, there
would be no bad times. Why spend six hours a day doing what
you don't want to do just to be able to spend one hour doing
what you like?

Grandpa's philosophy gives Vim so fine a balance that when the
rich and conventional Kirbys, parents of the fiance of his grand-
daughter, Alice, pay a premature call, the old gentleman refuses
to let the situation disturb his equanimity; instead, he rather
enjoys it. Before the guests depart, he gets around to telling Mr.
Kirby the real source of his indigestion: his personal frustration.
Take life as it comes and have a good time and you will rout indi-
gestion, advises Grandpa.

With a complete indifference to money, Grandpa does not
believe in the income-tax system and proves this belief by refusing
to pay one.

All he asks from life is a modest income to enable him to enjoy
his leisure practicing throwing feathered darts at a target,

STEPPING INTO CHARACTER 297

keeping pet snakes, going to commencement exercises, and
managing his family.

"Success based on hard work and a solid knowledge of your
craft is the only lasting success," is the underlying theme of
"Stage Door," by George S. Kaufman and Edna Ferber.

Terry Randall, an idealistic young actress, who believes
''acting isn't a career . . . it's a feeling," illustrates their theme.
Quick success in the movies with optional contracts that Terry
describes as "piece work" is not for her. She turns down the
promising Hollywood offers.

When her play closes after a four-day run, Terry undauntedly
takes a job on the radio, and when that fails she sells blouses in a
department store, using her lunch hours to stalk the theatrical
managers 1 offices.

Terry's belief and courage are so strong that she even helps a
young playwright with his work. And when his play is accepted
with the understanding that another girl will play the lead, Terry
unselfishly relinquishes the role, putting the success of the play
before her personal ambition. In the end, her courage is rewarded.
Terry gets a part because she is ready for it, whereas the other
girl, a motion picture actress scheduled to play the part, fails
because of her lack of ability and preparation.

In "Craig's Wife," by George Kelly, the author uses the char-
acter of Mrs. Craig to illustrate the theme that a home without
love, friends, and neighbors is just a house. A woman who marries
solely for self-emancipation, Mrs. Craig believes that "the security
of a wife's future is gained only by control of her husband." This
philosophy leads her into actions that eventually drive her hus-
band, relatives, and servants from her.

Flowers in the house annoy Mrs. Craig because the falling
petals destroy the rugs. The servants must use the back stairs;
the husband is permitted to smoke only in his den. Mrs. Craig
discourages his card playing because it means meetings with his
friends, whom she goes so far as to insult.

298 STEPPING INTO CHARACTER

Throughout the play, the character actions reveal the theme.
Because she can no longer stand living in "rooms that have died
and are all laid out/ 1 Mr. Craig's aunt leaves the house. Mrs.
Craig's advice, "Marriage need not necessarily include love,"
almost influences her niece to break her engagement to a poor
young professor.

"You can go crasy over a house same as you go crasy over any-
thing else," Mrs. Harold, the Craigs" housekeeper, tells Maisie,
the maid. With the additional comment that now Mrs. Craig can
do some of the work she always says she does, both servants leave,
and Mrs. Craig is left alone in the house that was always de-
signated as "my house" and never "our home."

In these three thematic plays, the leading player is given the
responsibility of carrying the playwright's message. To him is
given the right kind of behavior and talk in order that the message
may be succinct and clear. And for the actor who handles the
leading role of a thematic play, the responsibility is doubly heavy.
In order to put over the theme, he must have a precise and com-
plete conception of the author's idea.

Characterization and Mimicry

The young actor is likely to confuse characterization with
mimicry. On the contrary, there is a vast distinction between the
two.

Characterization has to do with individuality, which is the
product of nature, habits, and environment.

Mimicry is a travesty on real persons or events. It is a surface
mechanical process that does not spring from the emotional
behavior of the character. A mimic does not bother to delve into
the cause of behavior; he does not study the character trait. He is
interested primarily in the effect.

The main reason that a mimic foils to make a direct contact
with character is that in imitating speech, mannerism, dialect,
carriage, and gestures of a person, he sticks too closely to the
original model; he adds nothing of himself.

STEPPING INTO CHARACTER 299

Mimicry can be the basis of characterization, but it cannot be
the whole and complete process. A long time ago, before Ina Claire
became a dramatic star, she did imitations of Sir Harry Lauder in
the "New York Folies Bergere," wore a red nose, kilts, and affected
a thick Scotch burr. People marveled at the revelation of character
but it was Sir Harry Lauder's character, not the character of a
person, living or imagined, created for a part in a play. When we
mimic, we make a wax impression; when we act through the
mental and emotional processes, we give life to the piece of wax.

If you were cast as a chambermaid (as was Dorothy Hall in
"Page Miss Glory""), you might study a maid in order to get a
better understanding of the part. You might borrow her walk and
speech and costume, but when you got around to acting the part,
you would modify or enlarge on these mannerisms through your
own individuality. In other words, you would give thought to the
character traits of the maid and use your intellect and emotions to
select behavior to reveal these traits.

Dressing a Part

In mimicry the character is suggested by costuming and props,
such as shawls, canes, caps, and swords. In characterisation, on the
other hand, the costuming is the direct outcome of the environ-
ment, personal taste, and habits of the character.

There is a reason behind each piece of costuming. The planta-
tion owner, for instance, wears high boots and a wide-brimmed
hat because the swamps in the South abound with snakes and the
sun is hot.

The character who wears a leather windbreaker and a cap with
ear muffs does so because the play is laid in a cold country.

Although general appearance reflects inner character, tastes,
attitudes, and habits, the wearing of a special kind of costume has
a decided effect upon behavior; it creates an inner change. This is
especially true of the actor. The donning of a plumed hat and a
pasteboard sword brings a sense of the actuality of the part to
the actor who has been rehearsing with his own fedora and a
stick.

300 STEPPING INTO CHARACTER

Subdued expression, shawl, beard, graying hair alter Mr.
Massey's appearance in the final scene of Act III, when he says
farewell to Springfield from the platform of his train. (Courtesy
of Playwrights' Co.)

We all know the psychological effect of a change of wardrobe.
For a woman there is nothing like a new hat to bolster a sagging
morale; for a man, a bright necktie. When we are tired and hot,
a bath and a fresh change of clothing make us feel like new persons.
Sports clothes put us at ease. We relax; we aren't afraid they will
be spoiled. Formal evening clothes have the opposite effect; we
feel dignified and on our best behavior.

STEPPING INTO CHARACTER ' 301

"I am proud to wear this uniform," loyally says the man who
wears it, whether it is that of a colonel in the army or a bellhop in
an exclusive hotel.

Dress rehearsal is always the most exciting moment in the
the theater. The smallest bit actor or chorus girl, resplendent in a
magnificent costume, takes on new confidence. It is a moment of
breathless changes. A piece of business has had to be cut out or
eliminated because of a long train on a dress or a pair of boots that
refuse to bend at the knee. Entrances in sets have had to be
widened for hoop skirts. In directing a company of over a hundred
actors at the St. Louis Municipal Opera (half of them in hoop
skirts), one of my biggest problems is to get them all off stage on
cue without leaving half their costumes behind them. The best
way to do this is to follow the method of Katharine Cornell, who
rehearses with a piece of material or a hoop to suggest the costume
that she will wear.

What Size Are You?

A performer's physical stature frequently condemns him to
play one kind of part forever.

Until she played "Coquette," Helen Hayes was the perennial
ingenue. Not until she appeared in motion pictures in more mature
roles did Broadway recognise her capacity for strong character
portrayal. In "Mary of Scotland" she prepared her public for her
excellent performance in "Victoria Regina."

Despite her smallness, Miss Hayes was able in both roles to
convey the impression of regal height. She looked tall because she
thought tall, she once told an interviewer.

In "Victoria Regina" she seemed to grow before your eyes. As
a young girl, her walk and gesture were light and buoyant. As
she grew into middle age, her movements became slower, more
deliberate. Finally, as the old queen, she appeared to shrink with
age. Miss Hayes' voice intonation changed, too. She used vibrant
high tones as the young girl, deeper tones as the settled and middle-

302 ' STEPPING INTO CHARACTER

aged queen, and, finally, as an old lady, allowed her voice to shake
with uncertainty.

Often a flair for characteri^tion has brought recognition to
young people. In her early twenties, Mildred Natwick made a hit
as a tyrannical grandmother in the play, "The Distaff Side. 11 She
was small in stature, with a thin body and a voice peculiarly
adapted to the playing of older parts. Because no one else could or
would do older parts, Miss Natwick was given them by the direc'
tor of the small stock company of which she was a member.

Playing a Drunk

We know that alcohol temporarily paralyses the mental facul"
ties. This condition has its effect upon physical action, which
becomes uncertain and retarded. Under the influence of liquor, the
actor's legs are uncertain and unsteady. The slower the move-
ments the better. Make-up takes care of the bleary, red-faced
appearance. Speech is retarded.

Although a certain degree of comedy is possible in a character
with a slight edge on, overplayed, the drunk becomes a caricature
of the ten^twenty-thirty school of acting.

In blurring his body actions to suggest drunkenness, the actor
must guard against muffling his speech to such an extent that his
words are unintelligible. This can be done satisfactorily if he first
learns his lines and then adds the unsteady movements of the
body.

When Is An Actor Not An Actor?

In "Show Boat," one of the leading characters is a member of an
acting troupe that plays the river towns. In the play he is called
"a bad actor who thinks he is good." He is handsome; he plays all
the show boat leading parts. In the jargon of the theater, he is a
"ham" actor.

In producing the play, our problem was to find an actor who
would convey this illusion. We thought we wanted a bad actor.
Now that was a new order in the theater.

STEPPING INTO CHARACTER * 303

We sent out a call for a bad actor who had a good appearance.
One after another they applied, amateurs and semiprofessionals.
They were rehearsed and let out. We couldn't find the man,

Here was the catch. "Show Boat" is a play within a play. In
one scene the show boat troupe gives a performance, and in this
performance the leading man is a wooden actor. But in the other
acts of the play the part calls for a man who can pky an emotional
part of a delicate nature. It calls for a skillful performance by a
man who knows every mechanical trick. In the end, we engaged a
good actor to play a bad actor!

Your Mind Is Your Notebook

The qualities of human nature are universal. The audience
recognises the little human touches and bits of business that the
actor has borrowed from daily life. Invariably they bring an
amused chuckle, a sigh, or quick applause.

The importance of studying people cannot be overemphasized.
The actor's mind is his noteboo\, ready for the sense impressions., the
character behavior, the dramatic situations that come his way.

Example: You are in a restaurant. A man enters, head up, eyes
alert. He proceeds to the best table. He signals the waiter. With'
out a moment's hesitation, he gives his order.

A second man enters. He hangs back timidly. His eyes shift.
He takes any table. When the waiter fails to come to him at once,
he makes no protest. When the waiter presents the menu, he is
embarrassed. He doesn't know what to order.

What is the main trait of the first man?

Of the second?

Look around in the crowded streetcar, at a ball game, in the
theater lobby, in a department store. What classes are repre-
sented? Are the people happy? Sad? Study each one and make
notes on the mood you feel on close observation of the man or
woman. Ask yourself, why?

304 ' STEPPING INTO CHARACTER

Practice this kind of observation by closing your eyes each night
and trying to recall each person you've seen during the day. Ask
yourself:

1. Where did I meet him?

2. How was he dressed?

3. Was he in a hurry?

4. Was he happy? Sad?

5. Did his voice please me? Annoy me? Why?

6. Has he an outstanding mannerism?

7. A physical oddity?

8. Has he a philosophy with which I do not agree?

Go through the list, and then try to hold a mental image of a
crowd, of their speech, behavior, and appearance.

Some artists have the faculty of memoriizing the face of a subject
so that they require only one sitting. Theirs is accurate obser-
vation plus correct interpretation. You, too, can cultivate such a
capacity of character observation and interpretation.

U

p

EVERY so often we hear the report that the theater is on its last
legs. That may be true. But they are sturdy trouper's legs,
and, although they may bend now and then, as do the rubbery legs
of the comic actors, they always bounce back again, stronger and
straighter than ever.

When some prophetic soul bemoans the decline of the theater,
I am reminded of the dialogue from "The Frogs," by Aristophanes.

DIONYSUS

Well, just that sort of pang devours my heart
For lost Euripides.

HERACLES

A dead man, too.

DIONYSUS
And no one shall persuade me not to go after the man.

HERACLES

Do you mean below to Hades?

DIONYSUS
And lower still, if there's a lower still.

306 THE SUMMING UP
HERACLES

What on earth for?

DIONYSUS

I want a genuine poet, For some are not, and those that are, are bad.

HERACLES

What! Does not lophon live?

DIONYSUS

Well, he's the sole good thing remaining, if even he is good.
For even of that I'm not exactly certain.

HERACLES

If go you must, there's Sophocles. . . . He comes before Euripides. . . .
Why not take him?

DIONYSUS

Not until Fve tried if lophon's coin rings true when he's alone, apart

from Sophocles.

Besides, Euripides, the crafty rogue,
Will find a thousand shifts to get away.
But he was easy here, is easy there.

Although these words, deploring the condition of the theater in
the ancient days, were written in the fifth century B.C., there is
something strangely familiar about them, even in the twentieth
century A.D.

So far as I can see, the theater has gone through a nearly con-
tinuous series of ups and downs, dating back to the time when
Aristophanes gave his plaintive wail.

Life moves in a cycle, and the theater, which copies life, does
likewise. With the development of new ideas and social values,
there is constant change. Twenty-five years ago, in "Sappho,"
Olga Nethersole shocked the world when Hamilton Revelle
carried her in his arms as far as her bedroom door. In "Reunion
in Vienna," not only did Alfred Lunt disappear with his lady into

THE SUMMING UP 307

her boudoir but a few moments later he reappeared clad in his
nightshirt.

Politics, social conditions, economic crises affect the well-
being of the theater, just as they affect the personal lives of the
audience. In good times the theater prospers; in bad times it
suffers correspondingly.

But the theater lives. And I believe it will continue to live.

Just sp long as human nature is what it is and people have
curiosity, a thirst for knowledge, and a desire to hear a good story
(for, after all, what is an actor's job but to illustrate a story?),
men and women will continue to fill theater seats from the
orchestra pit to the top balcony.

Television

While the professional mourners are bemoaning the fate of the
theater, a whole new art is being born television. Television will
combine not only the technique of the stage, but the< precise
sound technique of radio and the modified visual technique of the
screen.

Because of the width of its scope television will require thou-
sands of new and skilled actors. The broadcast of a single play over
a national network is good for only one performance. There will
be no long runs as in a play or in a movie. Once a play has ap-
peared, it is finished:

Television is spot news. It can't be edited. Therefore the
player must be letter-perfect in his performance. He can't read
his part from a script, as in radio. Neither can he learn a few lines
at a time as in pictures. Since there are no retakes, there can be no
mistakes.

The radio performer who has developed only his diction and
vocal tone and who has depended upon voice to sway his audience
will now have to use his facial expression and personality as well.
Appearance, personal vigor, and charm will count as much as
voice.

Television technique will require acting at its best; it will offer
a priceless opportunity to the player. And don't think this

308 THE SUMMING UP

chance is closed to you, young actor! Just as the movies and radio
drew upon the stage for talent, so will television.

Hints to Heed

The question asked me by every beginning actor is, what out'
side training should I go through in order to increase my acting
ability?

I think that there are certain specific things that the young
player should do. He should read all the literature he can get hold
of plays, novels, short stories, and poetry. He should keep
abreast of the times by reading at least two daily newspapers and
the leading literary magazines that contain the most timely articles
on current events. He should form an appreciation of music, either
by attending the opera and symphony concerts as often as possible
or by joining a class of music appreciation.

As for art, there is no end to the value to be gained from this
source. Clothes, make-up, appreciation of color in scenes all
these things are affected by appreciation of art. The beginning
actor should visit galleries and study the paintings, even though
he never draws a line himself.

The new actor must learn to dance. To do so is mandatory,
from the standpoint not only of grace but of actual usage.

He should keep up with the motion picture output, and he
should go to the theater whenever he can, even to the mediocre
performances of third-rate companies.

Reading, watching people, and listening those are the actor's
chances for growth as a person. The more he learns from others,
both through concrete information and through study of char-
acter, the better actor he will be.

One word of caution: Don't listen to too many people who tell
you what to do!

And don't believe them when they tell you you're a great
actor! The generous approval of your friends will encourage you
for a long time, but the encouragement is temporary merely. Such
amateurish applause of an amateur effort has killed more young
talent than it has helped.

THE SUMMING UP 309

Don't Play Down to Your Audience

Actors, particularly those who seldom leave Broadway, are
inclined to become insular in their viewpoint. They are likely to
patronise their audience, to indulge in what we call "playing
down" to the people.

Here's something to watch, young actor!

IVe seen actors in tank towns put on as perfect a performance as
though Belasco himself graced the audience. And Tve seen others
who thought it not worth their while to bother to give a good
performance for the mn-of'the'inill audience gathered to see them.
Whatever the audience, no actor can afford to be less than his best.

Actor's Ten Commandments

Thou shalt have no other gods before Thespis.

Thou shalt not steal thy neighbor's glory by crowding, catching
flies, or feeding him the wrong cue.

Thou shalt not covet thy starts part. Thou shalt first become
proficient in thine own.

Thou shalt put on a good make-up, keep thy wardrobe neat.
Thou shalt speak up, for the man in the balcony hath paid, too,
and deserveth some consideration.

Thou shalt save thy performance for the audience and spare
the management, for thy producer's disposition hath been sorely
tried.

Thou shalt not ad lib, for verily the author hath toiled for many
nights and many days preparing thy script.

Thou shalt cultivate the gift of silence in the wings, both during
rehearsals and during performance. For it is a wise understudy who
getteth the part.

Thou shalt not crititi2 thy director, for though he may at
times seem dull and witless he is still thy director.

Thou shalt at all times be sincere and willing.

Thou shalt be on time, and thou shalt always do thy best.

Thou shalt honor thy profession that thy days as an actor may
be long and that thou mayest prosper therefrom.

310 THE SUMMING UP

Keeping Up the Standard

A player must come to the theater every evening, rain or shine,
sick or well, prepared to be as absorbed in the play as if he didn't
know it by heart. That isn't easy, but it is his obligation to his
audience. How does he live up to it?

The practical answer is that the actor must keep his mind on his
work. This means that interest must be kept at white heat during
the whole run of the play. He cannot afford to slump even after
weeks of going through the same gestures and saying the same
lines. He must retain the emotional intensity called for by the part,
and that state is not achieved by mere mechanical portrayal.

The actor cannot be bored. If he catches himself thinking about
fatigue or sense of depression, in that instant the audience feels the
deflection. It may be very slight, but the player's face shows it.
For just a second, he loses his connection with his part and assumes
a blank stare and the fine glow is gone.

Secondly, the actor must remember that it is his job to give just as
good a performance on the closing night as on the opening. The
people are sitting on the edge of their seats, waiting to be entertained.
The audience are ready to meet him halfway; he dares not let them
down.

Third, in order to keep his part going well, the actor must grow
as a person.

At first he thinks he has a good understanding of the part.
He works conscientiously at each performance, and meanwhile
he continues to study, read, and observe people when he is away
from the theater. After several months of playing, he is delighted
to find that his work is showing improvement. The stage director
(if he is generous) calls the player's attention to some new idea
or gesture or inflection of voice that is illuminating his performance.
Better still, a critic, on seeing the play for the second time, may
give the actor a line on his improvement. The player goes on with
his part with a new and rich knowledge of what he has to give.

This fynd of rediscovery of his pan is possible to any actor who
continues to study his art, no matter how letter-perfect he may seem.

THE SUMMING UP 311

Actually, he can always be a shade better; there is always a chance for
growth.

One of the most important actors in the American theater said
to me on the anniversary of fifteen years of stardom, "My ambi-
tion is to be a good actor."

Acting is such rewarding work that no effort is too great to
put into it. The actor carries the audience outside themselves and
gives them, a chance to live emotions vicariously. Because the
actor deals with human values, he must be sure that he is portray-
ing the emotions truthfully and that his audience is getting from
him a realistic interpretation of those truths.

As for the personal gain of the actor, the greatest satisfaction that
dramatic training offers is that, as he studies and practices acting
technique, he is developing within himself so that he is becoming a
finer and more worth-while person than he was and, hence, has more
to give to his profession.

How good an actor he can be depends on how much he has to
give and how well he can fill the place that is the actor's individual
niche in the world of the stage.

ad lib. Lines or business not designated in script.

apron. Small strip of stage just behind the footlights.

aside. Speech not addressed to other players on stage.

blackout. Stage darkened.

breaking up. Change of stage grouping by use of movement; also used in

describing the phrasing of dialogue.
build-up. Increased tension or pace,
business. Detailed stage movement.
cover. To stand in front of an actor or group so as to hide them from the

audience.

cross. A stage move in any direction.
cue. Last two or three words of the preceding speech, which the actor

learns along with his own.
dialogue. Lines spoken by actors.
downstage. Area closest audience,
dress stage. Keep stage picture balanced,
emphasis. To intensify either business or lines.
exposition. Playwright's lines of explanatory material.
feed line. Line in comedy that supplies point for line that gets the laugh,
focus. Center of interest.
give. Make room or move slightly.
hold. Suspend speech and action.
mas\. Cover a piece of business or an actor.
mechanic. A rehearsed piece of business.
out front. Audience.

overlap. Begin a speech before preceding one is finished.
pickup. Quick attack on either action or dialogue.
places. Locations designed in script for actors.
plugging. Exaggerate.
point up. Emphasis,
proscenium. Arch surrounding stage.
project. Throw voice out.
props. Furniture or large objects called stage props. Small objects used

by actors are called hand props.

set. Stage business that is established. Also abbreviation for stage setting,
side. Pages on which an actor's part is written.

314 GLOSSARY

tempo. Rate of playing or speaking.

timing. Stage movement, dialogue, or business planned so that they corre^

late.
topping. Beginning speech with greater intensity or higher pitch than

that of preceding one.
upstage. Area farthest from audience.
wings. Sides of the stage not seen by audience.

Acting, definition of, 31

evolution of, 36

learning, process of, 35

overdone, 37-39, 44, 52, 53

technique of, applied, 33
importance of, 32, 33

underdone, 37

vitality in, 55, 56, 310

well done, 39-42, 44, 53, 54
Ad libbing, 248, 249
Allen, Fred, 221, 234
Astaire, Fred, 256

B

Bainter, Fay, 292, 295
Bankhead, Tallulah, 80, 183
Body grace, 57

in arm movements, 59, 60

control of, 57

dancing as aid to, 65-67

exercises for development of, 64, 68^-73

expressive of personality, 79

in old-age movements, 75

with torso, 61, 62

in walking, 60, 61

in youth movements, 75

Bowman, Patricia, 69-73

"Boy Meets Girl," 111, 183, 209, 210

Breathing, attack, 127, 128

control of, 127, 130, 143

deep, 127

exercises for development of, 146-148

for farce playing, 132-138

noisy, 144

in phrasing, 142

for quick cue pickup, 139

rhythmic, 145, 148, 149

for sustained playing, 129, 130

Cantor, Eddie, 120, 220, 284
Chaplin, Charles, 81, 232
Character, definition of, 286
Character traits, 286-287, 292-295
Characteruation, 285, 293

analysis of, 292-293

author's contribution to, 286

building of, from outside, 289-291, 299

creation of, 287-289

of drunk, 302

as illustrative of theme, 296-298

mimicry as device of, 298

observation as basis of, 303-304

study of, 286

316 INDEX

Claire, Ina, 222, 299
Comedy, American, 223
burlesque, 225-226
character, 223
definition of, 217
drawing room, 227-229
effected with hokum, 227

with misuse of words, 233-234
with pathos, 232
with satire, 230, 237
with whimsy, 232
with wit, 230-231
farce, 132-138, 224 225
ironic, 229-230
slapstick, 226
Cornell, Katharine, 87, 116, 151, 190, 222,

253, 301

Crepe hair, for character building, 264
for unshaven face, 265
use of, 264

in making beard, 265, 266
in making mustache, 264-266
Crying, 238

hysterical, 239-240
mechanics of, 239
Cue, definition of, 139, 140, 255

Emotion, expressed through behavior, 191-

193

mechanics of, 185, 187-188, 198
process of, 198-201
projection of, 189-190
release of, 187
transition of, 194-196
"End of Summer," 229
"Ethan Frome," 118, 183, 195, 211
Eyebrows, use of, 122
in comedy, 219-220
in make-up, 277
Eyes, discovery of, 114, 115

exercises for development of, 122-125
expressions of, 123

for religious mood, 119
as gauge for vocal power, 151
listening with, 108-112, 115, 116
as means of focusing audience's atten-
tion, 108
as mechanic, 12
as point of contact, 106
range of vision, 117-119
use of, in comedy, 120, 121, 220
in exits, 121
in make-up, 276-277
what they say, 107

"Dead End," 159, 183
Diction, consonants, 178-180

definition of, 171

for dialect, 182-183

diphthongs, 178

exercises, for relaxing jaw, 172
for relaxing tongue, 172-173

function of, 174-176

as mechanic, 12

use of lips, 173

vowels, 176-178

"Dodsworth," 234-243, 292-295
Dressier, Marie, 76, 77

E

Emotion, definition of, 187

exercises for development of, 196-197,
203-205, 208-210, 212

Falls, stage, danger of, 76

exercises in correct method, 77, 78
"First Lady," 115, 118
Fontanne, Lynn, 169, 170, 222, 228

Gesture, use of, 40, 58n50, 74, 82-88, 94-

105

Ghosts, 45-53
Gish, Lillian, 215

H

Hands, attitudes of, 83-85
background for, 87, 279
character in, 88, 279

INDEX

31?

Hands, division of, 83

exercises for development of, 89-105

how to use, 80, 81

language of, 82

make-up of, 278-280

as mechanic, 12

props for, 11, 81

as revealing mood, 86

as revealing race, 86
Hayes, Helen, 28, 76, 301

makeup for "Victoria Regina," 272-275

as Queen Victoria, 41
Hepburn, Katharine, 75, 254
Huston, Walter, 5, 243, 290, 292, 295

I

"Idiot's Delight/" 116, 119, 202, 229
Imagination, in acting, 7

in creating character, 215, 286, 301

as emotional stimulus, 198

exercises for cultivation of, 203-206,
211-212

in learning part, 246

and memory process, 201
Inflection, 152-158, 219, 221-222, 229-230

Jolson, Al, 218, 219

Laughter, 216

audience response to, 237

from costume effects, 234

how to get, 219-222, 227, 231-233

hysterical, 240

mechanics of, 236-237

timing of, 218, 222, 224

from tricks, 234-235

variations of, 236-237
Learning part, 242, 248

analysis of, 242-244, 247-248

first rehearsal, 251

from inside, 242, 245, 249, 250

Learning part, stage fright, 253-255

from outside, 245
Leontovich, Eugenie, 67
Lillie, Beatrice, 79, 222
Locations, crosses, preparation for, 19-26

entrances, 28

exits, 29, 30

importance of knowing, 17-30

names of, 13, 23-25

on stage, 16, 20-21, 24

upstaging, 27

(See also Stage)
Lunt, Alfred, 66, 170, 250, 306

M

Makeup, alteration of facial contour, 281

blackface, 283-284

character, 270-271

ears, 281

eyes, 276-277

function of, 257, 261-262, 271-276

hands, 278-280, 283

highlighting, 269-271, 281-283

juvenile, 262

lowHghting, 269-271, 281-283

middle age, 267-268

modem woman, 263

mouth, 273-276

nose, 280

false, 258-260, 280-2S1

old age, 270

supplies for, 261
March, Fredric, 143, 244, 252
Massey, Raymond, 108

as Abe Lincoln, 288, 300

make-up for "Abe Lincoln in Illinois,"
' 258-259

Mechanic, stage, 10, 11
Memory, as basis of imagination, 201

definition of, 248

of recall, 56

in studying part, 249-250
"Monna Vanna," 152-153, 247
Moore, Victor, 232

318

INDEX

O

Observation, 201

as basis of character!^ tion, 215, 287-

289, 299, 303-304

exercises for development of, 202-204
in makeup, 257

Pelleas and Melisande," 113, 202, 207,

213

Poise, 67, 68
Posture, 58, 59

Senses, creating impressions, 189, 190

exercises for development of, 203-205,
208, 211-212

in relation to emotional process, 188
Sensitivity, 197* 198
"Seventh Heaven," 130, 131, 148
"Show Boat," 82, 114, 142
"Smilin 1 Through," 113, 240
Stage, chart of, 24

dressing, 27

locations on, 16, 20-21, 24

taking, 27

(Sec also Locations)
"Stage Door," 297

Television, 307
Temperament, 54, 55, 69
Tragedy, 238, 241

"Victoria Regtna," 42-45, 129, 159
Voice, authority in, 163-164

carrying power of, 151

exercises for development of, 167-168

inflection of, 152-157, 221-222

as instrument of emotions, 165-166

as mechanic, 11, 166-168

modulation of, 160-162

pitch of, 152-154

range of, 154-155

tone of, 158, 159

vocal cords, 155-156

what constitutes, 150
Voice cadence, 162, 163

W

Wigs, 265, 267

Wynn, Ed, 235, 285, 286

"You Can't Take It with You," 296