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THE THEATRE OF
MAX REINHARDT

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MAX REINHARDT

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THE THEATRE OF
MAX REINHARDT

HUNTLY CARTER

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NEW YORK
MITCHELL KENNERLEY

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PREFACE

Whatever we may think of the art value of the
work of Max Reinhardt, one of the greatest masters
of modern stagecraft, the comprehensiveness and
optimistic tone of the whole are inspiriting. Its
summary and revelation of the ideas which are now
transforming the theatre in Europe, and its sugges-
tion that the shoulders of the theatre will eventually
be relieved of its present burden of ugliness, open up
endless vistas on expansion which contrast curiously
with the avenues of contraction now confronting
the English theatre. Max Reinhardt has a genuine
love for the theatre, and his attitude towards it is
one of aspiration, whatever may be the peculiarity
of his style. His optimism is not to be treated
lightly, for, as it is the purpose of this book to
show, it is not the optimism of inexperience, but
of ""one who has travelled far in the theatre, has
sounded its depths, has tried and tested its resources
in all their width and variety, and who possesses a
genuine passion for achievement and a belief in its
artistic worth.

As to the precise value of his achievements in
modern stagecraftsmanship there is, of course, a
divided opinion. And this is largely due to the

2 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

■ able

fact that very few persons outside Germany are
fully acquainted with the wide results which he
has attained. How many dramatic critics are
there in England who have surveyed the entire
ground which Max Reinhardt has covered, have
followed his daily experiments, have seen the
definite plan at which he is quietly working In
his own sphere of study ? As far as I know, not
more than two or three. It is therefore not
surprising that a misconception concerning the
nature of his activities should have arisen. Hence
some English critics do not view his work with
any great favour. It has, they think, an effect in
encouraging in this country a taste for mere
spectacle, and discouraging a taste for the drama.
Such critics emphasise, and very rightly, the
importance of promoting the drama first, before
all things, seemingly unaware that Reinhardt has
been doing this from the very start, and that,
strangely enough, a great deal of his popularity is
owing to that circumstance. They are not aware
that he has been searching for first principles, and
that in reintroducing impulse to the theatre, in
reawakening the quest for intimacy, in striving to
attain rhythmical unity, and in seeking to lift the
many and varied activities of the theatre out of the
local into the universal once more, he is inviting
the theatre to become that which it is fitted to
become, viz., a refined and highly efficient instru-
ment for receiving and transmitting the spirit of
the drama. In short, he has served the drama not
only by producing plays by all the most remark-
able writers of the nco-Sturm und Drang period

byGOO'

PREFACE

through which Europe has just passed, but by
endeavouring to construct a theatre wherein he
could recapture the first fine rapture of the eternal
form of drama, and to restore that element which
alone can seize the spectator, and bring him nearer
to the profound secret of human existence. He
has, in fact, sought to widen and deepen the power
of the drama by preparing to give full play to its
primitive, religious, and eternal elements, believ-
ing, no doubt, that the dramatic spirit resides in
the subconscious element in mankind, and finds
expression only through that element.

Probably students may derive the greatest advan-
tage from the stagecraftsmanship of Max Reinhardt
not by examining the strong evidences of German
culture and scholasticism underlying it, but by the
study of the personal element which it contains.
Max Reinhardt himself has brought impression and
impulse to our doors once more. His contribution
to the current reform of the theatre and the drama
in England cannot be overestimated when we
remember that without impression to awaken
impulse there can be no advance in the drama.
Eliminate these two elements and the drama
becomes as dull and wearisome as the literary and
moral theatre has made it.

It should be mentioned that owing to the un-
avoidable postponement of the publication of this
book certain facts call for revision, and they are
accordingly dealt with in the " Supplementary

^L Chapter."

H HUNTLY CARTER.

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CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION ....... Q

TH2 NBW DIKECTOR I^

HIS ORIGIN 33

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT ... 52

HIS AIMS AND PRINCIPLES ifJS

HIS MATERIALS I3I

HIS RESOURCES I73

HIS PRODUCTIONS I9I ^

FORTHCOMING REINHARDT PRODUCTIONS 264
HIS CONTRIBUTION TO THE CONTEMPORARY STAGE

AND HIS INFLUENCE Zji

SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER 29T

APPENDICES

I. LIMITATION OF THE CULTURE MOVEMENT IN

THE THEATRE ..... 288

II. RECENT DEVELOPMENTS IN ENGLAND . 29I

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6 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

III. GERMAN INFLUENCBS ON ENGLISH DEVELOP-

MENT 304

IV. REVOLVING STAGE SET FOR REPRESENTATION

OF FIRST PART OF FAUST 315

V. TABLE OF PRODUCTIONS . . . . 316

ALPHABETICAL LIST OF AUTHORS .... 326

INDEX 329

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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Max Reinhanlt Fmm^ict

Julius Casak (Rdnhudt setting) . . fadng page 54
A MiDSUHHEK Night's Dkbam, Fifth Act

(Produced by Max Reinhardt at the Kunstler

Theater) » 94

Genrud Eysoldt „ 180

Hamlbt (Reinhardt setting) .... „ 240
Ground Plan of Faust One on the Revolving

St^ at Deutsche! Theater ... „ 314

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INTRODUCTION

In this book I propose to survey the process of
Max Reinhardt's development, beginning with the
forces which were waiting to receive him, and
which had been developing from the first Sturm
und Drang period onward. I reveal in these
forces the tendencies of a nation impelled towards
progress in the theatre rather by intellectuality, in
the form of a literary and moral ideal, than by
artistic intelligence. Thence I pass to the con-
sideration of German and other influences on Max
Reinhardt's living individual development, passing
in turn from the naturalistic to the realistic move-
ment, thence to the esthetic and symbolic. In
doing so I seek to show that there is no real ground
for the charge of plagiarism which has been so
unjustly brought against the German producer in
this country. From the outset Reinhardt has
recognised the great potentialities of the theatre,
and for a number of years he has sought to realise
them. Many experiments have had to be tried,
many systems tested, some things accepted, others
rejected. His only crime has been that of working
with time and patience, armed with sensibility and
great concentration, towards one definite and practi-

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■ lo THE Tl

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

cal end — his "Theatre of the Five Thousand" or
The Theatre of Actuality. In answer to the
charge of plagiarism, I produce evidence showing
that there is little or no relation between the
work of Gordon Craig and that of Max Reinhardt.
Each producer has his individual value, and that
is all that matters. Whatever value they may have
in common does not count.

I then proceed to survey the effect of Max
Rcinhardt's development in :

1. His Aim.

2. His conception of Drama.

3. His conception of the Stage.

4. His conception of the Player.

5. His conception of Theatre Organisation.
His principal aim has been throughout to bring

the spectator into the action of the drama and to
make him live the actor's part in the tiny world
formed by the theatre, as he lives his own part in
the greater social world.

Reinhardt's conception of drama has been
founded upon this aim. With no new form of
drama to work upon he has been obliged to turn
to forms of great drama, having old and obsolete
structural purposes, and no relation or proportion
to each other, as the only materia] available for his
purpose — that of appealing through the primitive
human passions to vast heterogeneous masses of
human beings. In Max Reinhardt's view these
"passions are the binding cords which the new form
of drama must contain. They have been eliminated
from the discussion drama. Some day he hopes to
create a dramatist in whose work will be found these

byCoogle

INTRODUCTION 1 1

elements of kinship, the essentials of the Reinhardt
theatre and drama. And when such a dramatist does
arrive, he promises us to build a theatre for him.

This intimacy idea has also affected his concep-
tion of the stage, which it has altered in character
in two ways :

(a) Formation.

(A) Working.
And thus we see Reinhardt's stage altering in
form, and passing from one tradition to another.
As the intimacy idea grows stronger, so the stage
walks out of the enormous box with three sides
in which the Italians placed it, and enters the
arena which the Greeks bequeathed us. In this
way it is seen encroaching upon the auditorium,
first modestly, as the apron stage begins to project,
and the earlier and simpler methods of Shake-
spearean staging becomes apparent, and then more
boldly, as it plunges across and occupies the whole

Ifioor of the theatre.
I The working of the stage is also affected by the
I same idea, and this in three ways :
L (a) Scenery.

I (*) Lighting.

P (c) Changes of scenery. ,-,, ■■:, .-^ , ,.■...

^ As the scene steps out of the frame in response
to the intimacy idea, so its character and materials
change, /it passes from the age of extravagant
and complicated scenery to that of broad and
simple effects] ^^Paiated canvas yields to solid
doors, walls, an J roofs. As the stage takes on
spacious and ample proportions, so the " archi-
tecture " of the scene becomes more or less a sub-

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12 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

stantial embodiment of these proportions, possessing
architectonic elements in its structure that suggest
a return to the pre-Italian period of stage scenery.
These proportions are attained (i) by the use of
the entire stage buih out to the level of the first
tier of boxes, and {2) by the use of the arena. In
the latter case the main aim is to build in the
audience, as at Olympia, so as to convey to
each spectator the sensation of being a part of a
great whole.

^he new system of stage lighting is also bound
up with intimacy. As the latter is largely based
on emotional effects, so the main aim of stage
lighting is to contribute as far as possible to the
emotions of the dram^ Lighting has, in fact,
become an embodiment of emotion] It plays
its emotional part in the drama, focussing and
accentuating the emotions as they make their
entrance, mostly by means of coloured raysT]
Colour is, in fact, fast deserting scenery and cos-
tumes for the limelights, owing no doubt to the
discovery that the conventional system of stage
lighting is obsolete and stupid. The impossibility
of obtaining the right colour values by this system
is now fully apparent to artists who find they
can do nothing with batteries of lights placed at
the most unsuitable angles, and producing dirty
tones that ruin their finest effects. Decorators
are in fact convinced that they can attain a far
better result by the use of neutral surfaces and
some coloured limes served by intelligent opera-
tors under their direction. To them it is more
intelligent to prepare their palette with coloured

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I
I

INTRODUCTION

limes and to paint each detail of scenery, costumes,
and accessories with a single ray, or a mixture
of rays of light and their reflections. Colours
have not, however, entirely deserted the reform
stage, and occasionally satisfactory results are
obtained by mixing the coloured rays with the
colours worn by the players and the scenery.

In short, the modern problem of costume, scenery,
and light is being treated with special care by
reformers like Max Reinhardt.

c) In order to preserve the mood of the drama in
the spectator, it is highly desirable there should be
as little friction in the representation of a play as
possible. This principle has led to the modem
problem of the reduction of the act-interval, which
Max Reinhardt has attempted to solve in various
ways, but mostly by the employment of ingenious

; mechanisms. [The two principal devices employed
by him are the revolving stage in use at the

iDeutsches Theater, Berh'n, and the sinking stage
Ugcd in The Miracle. Beyond these movable stages,
a further solution has been sought in the Eliza-
bethan alternate stages and in the Greek device
of intervals filled in by the chorus. The said
devices are also used in the attempt to solve
the modern problem of unity in variety of stage-
setting

In turning to Reinhardt's conception of the
player, I show that he "had to do with a type
that is intimately alive, a player in whom the
intellectual rather than the artistic faculty has
become sensitive and awakerj This awakened
faculty is, as I indicate, declaring itself in a

I I. ■■, iM,Coo<;lcj

W H THE T

•

14 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

psychological conception of acting and in a
modernised idea connected with the drama, its
significance and interpretation. /The idea is that
.the actor should subordinate himself to the spirit
or moo3 of the drama and aim before all things
to convey that mood to the audience. That is,
he should first assert the individuality of the
play, and thereafter his own individuality. This
ensemble idea also demands that all players con-
cerned in a production shall submit to the direction
of a producer.'

Finally, with regard to Reinhardt's system
of organisationj which falls broadly into two
divisions — (a) the physique of the theatre, and (S)
the mind of the theatre — I point out that it shows
an intellectual ordering of the theatre and a com-
prehension of the component parts of the circle of
intellect necessary to its working.' The circle is,
as will be seen, composed, comparatively speaking,
of a new form, a body of co-directors animated by
a full intellectual conception of the function of
the theatreJ We see them united for the purpose
of exerting the Will of the Theatre, as an in-
strument for restoring a shapeless mass to something
resembling uniformity and coherence.

nigniz^dbyGoO^le

THE NEW DIRECTOR

There is no doubt that the theatre has reached
the culmination of culture ; the co-operation of
activities springing up are clearly towards a freer
expression. I remember reading somewhere that
" there has appeared during the last half-century
a voluntary organisation — co-operation. It has
accomplished remarkable results in diminishing the
misery of a great number of hand-workers, and in
laying the foundation of a new system of produc-
tion, distribution, and exchange, while giving new
hope of social and economical amelioration, pre-
paring the way for a larger organisation." This
social organisation has, no doubt, its advantages.
Autocracy is suppressed. The whole of civilised
communities are brought into intimate connection.
The group spirit is awakened, and individuals are
encouraged to unite for the manifestation of group-
sentiments, or the genera! will of the group. Such
collective sentiments play many important parts.
For one thing, intellectuals have banded together
for the ordering of other people's lives, while the
heterogeneous elements of the mob have united in
groups for the ordering of the intellectuals' lives.
, Thus wc find one class of reformer united and

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1 6 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

animated by a common purpose and desire,
namely, the destruction of the obsolete machinery
of government.

Alarmists tell us that the danger to be appre-
hended from this social exercise of ordering is the
future ordering of the intellectuals by the mob :
that is, the supremacy of the average common-
place person. There is a danger of Demos being
enthroned as Almighty. If so, it is no wonder
that the rise of a certain section of society has
become a nightmare to the intellectual mind. But
it is a false alarm. The greatest " danger " likely
to arise from the present shuffling of social units
is a governance by aristocracy — an aristocracy of I
intelligence. And this is as it should be. Intelli-
gence belongs only to the highest order of mind.
Intellect was a discovery of the Greeks. It has
tyrannised the world ever since. Society should
be ordered to suit the intelligent man. He is the
exceptional man to whom scope should be given
to experiment and create, so as to enable him to
make the earth less of a rubbish heap than the
intellectual and the average man would have it.

This movement towards an aristocracy of intelli-
gence is invading all forms of social life. It is
finding expression in the theatre. So far the
theatre has been in the hands of the commercials
and the intellectuals. The latter, following the
general tendency, have made frantic efforts of a
sort at organisation. They have formed groups
representing the collective not the individual I,
and brought bodies of workers together for the
aggrandisement of the latter. These intellectual

j^og

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THE NEW DIRECTOR 17

organisers are always divided among themselves.
Each holds an exclusive point of view as to
whether the function of the theatre is literary,
moral, musical, picturesque, and so on. They
never appear to agree that the theatre should be a
house of vision only. Thus intellectual organisa-
tion of their sort is really slavery. It ignores the
fact that beyond organisation there must be liberty.
The great thing in organisation is, indeed, the pre-
servation of individual liberty. What is needed are
groups of workers expressing the individual yet
the collective Will. We do not want bundles of
human episodes.

There are signs that reformers are beginning to
apply this conception of the collective volition to
the theatre, which is equivalent to saying that we
shall soon experience the unaccustomed sensation
of the exercise of the Will of the Theatre. There
will be a new rulership to exercise it, and the ruler
who exercises it will be a collective body, composed
of as many members as are required to produce
the Will. Thus the theatre, like the Church,
will promote association, and will draw together all
classes of artists in one mutual endeavour, namely,
that of making the theatre a house of vision, in
which we may see the ideal Will in action
unveiling Truth. But every reformer does not
see the theatre in the light of social readjust-
ments, arrangements, and combinations. Some
who prefer the misinterpreted Nietzsche, demand
the ruler-man, not ruler-men. Discussing the
question of how to obtain unity in the theatre, Mr
Craig explains how unity is lost. He says this :

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H '» THE 1

1 8 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

" Let me make a list (an incomplete one, but it
will serve) of the diiFerent workers in the theatre.
When I have made this list I will tell you how
many are head-cook, and how they assist in the
spoiling of the broth.

" First and foremost, there is the proprietor of
the theatre. Secondly, there is the business manager
who rents the theatre. Thirdly, there is the stage-
director — sometimes three or four of these ; there
are also three or four business men. Then we
come to the chief actor and actress. Then we have
the actor and the actress who are next to the chief :
that is to say, who are ready to step into their
places if required. Then there are from twenty to
sixty other actors and actresses. Besides this, there
is the gentleman who designs scenes ; another who
designs costumes ; a third who devotes his time
to arranging lights ; a fourth who attends to the
machinery (generally the hardest worker in the
theatre) ; and then we have from twenty to a
hundred under-workers — scene-painters, costume-
makers, limelight manipulators, dressers, scene-
shifters, under-machinists, extra ladies and gentle-
men, cleaners, programme-sellers — and there we
have the bunch." This precise cataloguing of
theatrical odds and ends is interesting, and Mr
Craig proceeds : " Now look carefully at this list.
We see seven heads and two very influential
members ; seven directors instead of one, and nine
opinions instead of one.

" Now, then, it is impossible for a work of art ever to
he produced where more than one brain is permitted to
direct, and if worki of art are not seen in the theatre.

THE NEW DIRECTOR 19

tMi one reason is a sufficient one, though there are plenty
ware."

This looks as though Mr Craig is rightly asking
for the organising inteUigence. But he explains
still further the point, which he has selected from
a former book, The Art of the Theatre : " Do you
wish to know why there are seven masters instead
of one ? It is because there is no one man in the
theatre who is a master in himself : that is to say,
there is no one man capable of inventing and rehearsing
a play ; capable of designing and superintending the
construction of both scenery and costume ; of writing
arty necessary music ; of inventing such machinery as is
needed, and the lighting that is to be used."

Mr Craig is simply demanding whole theatres-
full of da Vincis. Directors and producers must
stop playing with decayed fallacies, especially those
favoured by the intellectual mind. We must
try to make an intelligent advance. We must
leave thinking in pyramids to the misinterpreted
Nietzsche, who, they say, was a philosopher, and
as such was privileged to do much of his thinking
in the Ark. Accordingly, he was entitled to get
the world's wheels fairly stuck in the mud. He
was privileged to talk about definitions and distinc-
tions, and to reconstruct the modern world in the
ancient form of a pyramidal tomb. It was his mission
to sec that the civilised world got this form upon the
brain, with the poor, mad ruler-man as a type of
remorseless Force for an apex, and myriads of slaves
for a base. It was a part of his insanity to demon-
strate that all artists are not artists, but some of
them are ruler-artists.

^ ■.-..Goosle .

20 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

All artists are equal in the sight of Heaven. Art
is simply art, and an artist is an artist, and nothing
short of the re-creation of the system of the universe
will make him different. All the talk about ruler-
art and ruler-artist is drivel. If producers really
desire to make an advance, let them study Reinhardt,
not Nietzsche, and learn how to think in terms of
a circle, not of a pyramid. Reinhardt's contribu-
tion to the problem of the theatre is co-directorship.
Except to the theatre, co-directorship is not a new
thing to this mighty booby world, but outside the
theatre dull persons are expounding it in the form
of co-management and guild-socialism as the idea
of the century. The new and significant thing in
the theatre is the expression of the Will of the
Theatre by co-ordinated minds, each artist taking
the keenest interest in promoting the artistic work
of the theatre, each artist desiring to attain the
best effect, not only for his own sake, but also for
that of his fellow-artists. This is what may be
called the expression' of the Will of the Theatre.
It is individual and collective striving of the highest
degree. Each artist wills to attain his best indivi-
dual effect, yet wills to attain the same end as the
other members of his group, an end which only
collective volition can assure. Thus the Will of
the Theatre springs from a common action and
a common sentiment, the love of the artists for
the theatre, and its function is to give the widest
expression to the Will of the author. Thus
Max Reinhardt interrogates the alternative which
Mr Craig puts forward. Apparently he has no
sympathy with the Napoleonic tyranny, and aims

jM,Goo<;le

THE NEW DIRECTOR 21

to replace Mr Craig's seven-headed director by a
seven-headed group of sympathetic and efficient
artists who will together produce something as
great and individual as a Gothic Cathedral, with all
Its parts so powerfully and perfectly willed that its
infinite worth is apparent to the least of men. I am
not aware that Max Reinhardt consciously values
Will so highly in the theatre, or is promoting
co-directorship because he knows how stupid and
purposeless is its counterfeit, Wilfulness, which long
ago gave the theatre to chaos. But I am sure that
Max Reinhardt is an experimentalist. I imagine
the impatience of an imaginative temperament has
led him to conceive a nobler state of things in
the theatre, and to try processes by which he may
occasionally call fire from heaven. It may be that
be has found the co-directorship cure by accident,
and by accident has exposed the one-man system
of directorship as one that cannot possibly promote
unity. In any case he has not eradicated the
prevailing disease of inartistic will-lessness, the
dominant spirit in the theatre which becomes
every year more intolerant and obtrusive. Instead
of applying Will as an aid to art, the one divinely
appointed means to progress and illumination, he has
applied it as an aid to culture, and thus made it the
last resource for a very desperate case. In doing so
he merely emphasises the fact that culture cannot
give the theatre that unity which art inevitably
produces. Turn in all directions and we shall
find striking examples of it. Many of the European
theatres are well equipped and well organised to
give a complete expression to a fairly complete

DigHi.rdl.y Google

22 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

outlook upon a literary and moral drama. But
nowhere is the theatre equipped or organised to
give the widest expression to the drama of the soul.
As it stands it is quite unable to serve as a house
of vision. All that it can do is to show artistic
intention, give hints, throw out suggestions, offer
scraps of vision and imaginative interpretation,
turn out pretty odds and ends of pictures, wonder-
fully pretty bits of imagination, wonderfully ugly
bits of so-called realism, wonderfully deft bits of
stagecraft. But nothing it has done or can do
in its present condition has brought it or brings
it within measurable distance of producing the
complete vision, the design of the poet filled in by
answering minds, unified and vital in all respects.
In fact, the theatre has never been constituted to
produce anything of the kind, and this because
dramatic authors have been accustomed fully to
cover the delicate skeleton which sustains every
precious work of art, instead of handing it over to
co-operators to have its parts articulated and related
and clothed in the flesh of the illusion of the
theatre. Thus the finest play ever written has
never escaped being butchered in some of its
essentials, or been prevented from sinking into a
shapeless heap. The demonstrable fact is that the
theatre always has been, and is still, a vastly inferior,
imperfect, and disjointed instrument of dramatic
expression. In England especially is this true.
There the surroundings of the theatre are grotesque
and degrading ; its construction is bad, its form
obsolete, its design and decoration serve neither to
preserve the gravity, dignity, nor simplicity of

beauty. Its auditorium is rudimentary ; its three-
sided stage belongs properly to the Stone Age ;
and its lighting, scenery, properties, and other
mechanical aids, though effective on occasion,
never escape the suspicion of being what they are
— theatre stuff. And if the temple is imperfect,
its priests, as Mr Craig rightly maintains, are im-
perfect also. If the construction and mechanical
contrivances of the theatre are crude and bad, the
human directing, controlling, and interpreting force
is not much better. It lacks unity. In short,
the great number of units engaged in the work
of the production of a play are not properly
organised as a body to give that play the widest
and most complete expression. They have not a
vision in common, but they interpret each in his
own way. As a rule they are a spineless and
disjointed crew, without the faintest conception of
2 possible unity.

The system of Max Reinhardt reminds us that
what is needed is a new harmonious and intelligent
"body of interpreters in whose hands all the pro-
cesses of interpretation are complementary and com-
plete. Such interpreters may be briefly divided
into seven classes — the artist-author, director-pro-
ducer, stage-manager, musician, actor, decorator,
and mechanician. As I am concerned here only
with the director, it is not necessary to analyse the
mental constitution of each member of the group.
Broadly speaking, each should be constituted to
form a related part of the complete interpretative
mind. Perhaps the simplest definition of a director I
^_is_a leader. When a number of persons come J

^^^^fc ni,;iiP,-jM,Coo<;le ^B

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

together for an active purpose they usually select
a leader. In the theatre the term leader has various
offensive applications, such as shopkeeper. But in
the new sense it means organiser. In the theatre
the leader mostly chooses himself. Here, hitherto,
he has mostly been a tyrant imposing his personality
upon a number of persons gathered together for the
purpose. Of recent years the theatre - leader has
taken various forms — showman-impresario, author-
producer, director, actor -producer, producer, and
stage-manager. The impresario may be divided into
two classes, the class which has an appreciation for
the beautiful in the theatre (Astruc and Diaghilew),
and that which regards the theatre as a means of
satisfying an intense hunger after the commercial
nourishment. The latter, of whom Frohman and
Schubert are the extreme type, are distinguished
by a love of compromise with base things. They
are tradesmen dealing in contraband goods — con-
traband because they are opposed to the highest
spirit of the theatre. They import productions
wholesale, regardless of the fact that such pro-
ductions very often have a pernicious influence
both in matter and manner ; and the great danger
in them lies in a crude and tasteless treatment of
vital subjects. The remainder of the theatre-leaders
may be lumped together. Briefly, these modern
types are the effect rather than the cause of the
intellectual or literary drama, just as the Frohman-
Schubert octopus type are the cause rather than the
effect of the commercial theatre. The leaders in
question are partly thinkers, partly men of action,
though more frequently they are men of action

^ by Goo;

first and thinkers afterwards. They are the proto-
type of the interpreting conductor, just as the old
leader was the prototype of the time-beating con-
ductor. Thus, while the latter may be compared
with Berlioz's picture of an incompetent butcher of
masterpieces, either from a point of view of re-
presentation or interpretation, or both, the former
may be compared with those leaders of the modern
interpretative school of music, Richter, Wood,
Mottl, and Weingartner. Their business is mainly
to interpret the " new " drama — a drama which
is often an individual, intellectual, highly com-
plex expression of human experience brought to
the level of consciousness. They constitute the
first element of the organisation of their hetero-
geneous crowds of servile workers, and are expected
to see that their human " orchestras " give a faithful
reading — not of the author's intellectual, moral,
or imaginative ideas — but of their own personality
- — their leadership, in fact. Needless to say, such
leaders are more often led than leading. They
arc 80 obsessed by the idea of leadership that
everything is subjected to it, and they become
shackled to the false idea that they represent a
supreme conscience to which their slaves should
all do reverence. Thus their function becomes a
superstition instead of a truth, and thus the four
characteristics which this function presupposes
continue to lie dormant. As properly balanced)
leaders they should exercise, first, an instinct for
Truth, the underlying truth of human nature in
thought and action as perceived by the poet,
^cood, an accurate intimacy with the mode of .

a" [

26 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

expression of each particular truth. Third, a union
of reason with sensibility, and the power to trans-
mit their own feelings to the actors, and to be a
directing, not a tyrannical, influence in the essential
mode of expression. Lastly and pre-eminently, the
gift of imagination in the highest and strictest
sense of the word (the fullest comprehension of the
power, charm, and interest of the harmonies of
line, colour, and composition, the perception of
the finest melody of a work).

The English stage does not lack leaders who
exert an influence on all concerned in a production.
But the influence is always in the wrong direction.
Take the author-producer, say Sir Arthur Pinero or
Mr Granville Barker. Sir Arthur Pinero at work
producing reminds one of a drill sergeant. Both
he and Mr Barker leave no scope for creation. In
their hands the actors are mummers. They
dominate and tyrannise in all directions. They
both desire real life on the stage, and in order
to get it they kill off so much percentage of
live actors. In plays produced by them, we
can see the spirit of Pinero or Barker moving
about directing the movements of the mummers,
superintending the setting of the scenes, working
the limes, doing everything, in fact, as though
the theatre were a machine constructed to pro-
duce nothing — but themselves. To them human
material is simply a piece of clay to be moulded
as they direct. To them actors are automatons.
It is no doubt for this reason that The Mask con-
demns the present type of English director-producer
as a shopkeeper, a Whiteley or a Selfridge auto-

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£J

■ THE NEW DIRECTOR %-j

matically directing vast bodies of workers. The
use of Sir Herbert Tree is not of the true inspiriting
kind. " For he is the worst enemy of the English
Theatre to-day. Under the guise of friendship he
undermines its very existence. When he should
be feeling, thinking, and acting as an artist feels,
thinks, and acts, he is instead performing like a
shopkeeper." This is just of The Mask, though
hardly generous, seeing that Sir Herbert carries
on the tradition of Irving, the well-beloved of the
forward journal from Florence. The position of
the remaining classes of " leader " is similar ; and
those who do not take it seriously enough are to be
pitted. Seriously, these leaders are hypnotised by
the power of a false tradition, according to which
the methods of the Inquisition are employed to
achieve certain ends. Both the actor-producer,
the producer, and the stage-manager simply exist to
assist the author with their stock-in-trade of stage
technique. Their aim is to legahse a privileged
position in the Inquisition. In short, this system
of leader-producership consists of an individual
placed at the head of a servile crowd that is unable
ID dispense with a master. It is individualism run
to seed. One individual Will does not make a
theatre.

Fortunately for the future of the theatre there
are four new types of leader springing into
existence — the poet-director, the director, the new
actor -director, and the artist-director. A fifth
type of leader should be mentioned for the reason
that he has brought distinction and taste into the
theatre, though he is no longer new. I refer to the

ni,:ii.,-iM,C00t;lc

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

literary type, the progressive German Intendant (Dr
Loewenfeld, Leipzig), th e critic-director (Brahm),
the literary-director (l)r Stanl, Professors Georg
Fuchs, William Poel, Hagemann, Gregor, Dr Kilian,
and Dr Alexander Hevesi. These follow more
or less the example of Goethe, who gave his
company of titled aristocrats a free hand. Three
at least of the new leaders do not attempt to wield
a despotic authority. They do not treat their
fellow-workers as half-educated slaves, swayed this
way and that by authority or flattery. They treat
them as persons who, on the whole, know their
own mind, and who are likely to do full justice to
the director's discernment. Freedom rather than
tyranny is the keynote of their leadership, though
it is not quite clear in each case how this freedom
is transmitted to others. In a conversation with
Mr Herbert Trench (the poet-director), Mr T.
Martin Wood slightly fogs this issue. He is
considering the question of the staging of plays,
and says : " So well known a lover of pictures,
one so intimate with art as Mr Trench, participates
in a painter's advantages in this respect, and by
reason of his appreciation enters into the painter's
belief in unity of effect and design when it comes
to the task of realising in a plastic form the stage
directions of a play. He is then fitted in almost
dual capacity for his task as stage -director, as
sympathetic interpreter of dramatic aspiration
through the stratagem of stage device." This
sounds as though Mr Trench, being a lover of
pictures, understands the painter's business, and,
having a sympathetic appreciation of drama, undcr-

ni,;ni.t.dh,.G00^1c

THE NEW DIRECTOR 29

stands the author's business. Then comes a com-
parison with Goethe. " It is not improbable that
he is the nearest approach to an ideal director there
has been since Goethe's time." But Goethe was
not a dual-headed director. He was more like
what follows. " His extreme practicableness comes
as a surprise in a great poet, the combination of
the rarest nature, and everything is to be hoped for
from it — from the submission of every detail to
illuminative mind. Every step taken in the pro-
duction of The Blue Bird was personally attended
to by Mr Trench. It is easy to understand how
little of all the florid convention that overwhelms
the stage was permitted to filter through. . . .
Mr Trench was very anxious to put from himself
on to Mr Lyal Sweete as much as possible of the
credit of the success of staging The Blue Bird. . . .
Napoleon's generals often won his battles for him,
and his genius was in his preference for these
generals, the noble '^ pieces' in the place of pawns.
And the great man would use Murat and Ney
together to produce an effect upon the field, as
Mr Trench would use the art of Mr Cayley
Robinson and Mr Sime to produce an effect upon
the stage. He told me that he would go to one
man for his statuesque and architectural qualities
and another for his fantasy, and so on, seeking
sometimes a possible combination." What are
we to make of all this f Simply that Mr Trench
is not the supreme dominating head, as Mr Wood
would have us believe. He is the architect of the
production, who draws up the plan and selects the
noble pieces," not the pawns — the Neys aad

ni,;ni.t.db,.G00ale

I
I

30 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Murats whose wills are equal to Napoleon's, but
whose organising capacity is not so great — to fill it
iQ to the best of their capacity. Mr Wood proves
this in the next passage, where he says : " If I
understand Mr Trench aright, instead of the
painter-producer staging a play as if the stage was
his huge canvas and the materials the recalcitrant
ones we know, a director should stand again behind
that painter, himself a super-painter, as it were,
choosing specialists as he might choose his brushes,
using one man's qualifications against another's to
achieve a larger end. Such a programme obviates
the likelihood of the presentment being one-sided
and failing in the universality of appeal which
the stage must make. In spite of this admission,
however, all my own beliefs are with the ad-
vantages of making use of a painter-producer whose
scheme the play shall be from beginning to end,
as once set forth, I think, by Mr Gordon Craig."
Obviously Mr Wood prefers the autocrat in the
theatre. But his conversation was recorded in
191 o, and the world has moved since then and tied
another knot in grandma Past's apron-strings. The
artist-director will also obey the dictates of free-
dom. If he has a true knowledge of art he will
know that whenever art has been a ruling power
in the world it has been the expression of freemen,
not slaves.

Art shackled is a contradiction in terms, and
artist-directors and producers must understand that
if their fellow-artists are denied full liberty of
action they can no more produce works of art than
they themselves can. Art will only be possible in

,.,Go

the theatre when art is free. I believe Wyspianski
demonstrated that. He was the Admirable Crichton
of Mr Craig's dreams. It comes to this, then, that
the new director is an individual multiplied by
many individuals all working in harmony. This
is the type of director that Max Reinhardt re-
presents. He is a leader only in name. I imagine
he asks for a balance of temperament, but no dis-
cipline, recognising, no doubt, that when one
temperament attempts to discipline another tem-
perament friction is the result. He bears no
resemblance to the leader- tyrant, he who believes
in the divine rulership of directors. He suggests
rather the director of the future, who will be the
master-builder of the theatre, recognising that fine
drama represents the lyrical impulse of the soul,
and that its fullest expression should be the work
of finely co-ordinated creative minds making their
protest in spontaneity against everything disci-
plinary and formal. When creation becomes the
whole object of the theatre, discipline will cease to
exist. Such a director will know that the theatre
and drama have to make their fight hardest
against the men who have their hands at the
throat of art, the culturists. I cannot conceive
of such a director surpassing his co-directors in
Will and Spirit. Both Will and High Spirit
will indeed be the hall-mark of the director, as
well as of those that co-operate with him. This
is precisely where he will differ from and be an
advance upon the director, workers and slaves
of the materiahstic and realistic theatre. For
materialism and realism are always linked with

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

low-spirited endeavour. Thus the new spell which
he will weave will be stronger than the old spirit,
because it will call forth the joy of life in us.
Max Reinhardt has both Will and Spirit, but he
has borrowed the mechanical chant of culture, and
that chant hangs like a dense creeper about the
theatre, and, creeper-like, keeps creation out. The
greatest thing a director can do is to create a
creative poet. His line of advance is, however,
strongly marked. As I have indicated. Max
Reinhardt stands for the assertion of the Will of
the theatre. He has also made an advance on
the ancients, inasmuch as he is adding artistic
impulse to the intellectual spell which the Greeks
have cast over us moderns. It remains to be seen
whether the theatre and drama will cease to try to
advance through the cultural past and will be de-
livered by the pure intelligence of the present.
The advance that Max Reinhardt is making in
the true direction may be seen in a survey of his
progression, as well as in an examination of the
influences which have produced him.

rngtr-*"-^^"^;

HIS ORIGIN

1^^ spiel

Most remarkable men live in their work. It is
because Max Reinhardt gives us so much of
himself in his work that it is not necessary to
investigate either his spiritualism or his biology
or his sociology. Even if there were a need, there
is not much to help us. The plain matter-of-
fact statements contained in various English and
foreign Who's fF/io's and Green Room hooks are
like geographically distributed peoples. They do
not match. Even if one employs the police-court
method of extracting the truth by comparing
the statements of a number of witnesses, the
result is meagre. This method reveals that Max
Reinhardt was born at Baden near Vienna, on
the 9th of September 1873. So that to-day he
is forty years of age. He was educated at the
Untergymnasium, and was in a banking business
till seventeen. He studied for the stage under
Emil Burde. In 1893 he made his first appear-
ance at the Stadt Theatre, Salzburg. In 1894 he
made his first appearance at the Deutsches Theater,
Berlin. He founded a Cabaret (Schall und Rauch),
and afterwards the Little Theatre, the Kammer-
spielhaus^ then went to the Deutsches Theatre.

by Google

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Has played Mcphisto, Philip II., Ohtrseer Striimer.
Married Elsa Heins, etc. etc. This is a sample of
the human budgets published for the guidance of
the unsuspecting.

Let me pump some blood into these anamic and
slovenly details. Turning to German sources of
information, I find that Max Reinhardt came from
Austria, the birthplace of so many prominent
artists of the theatre. As for his temperament,
training, and physique, there is very little record.
I may banish these subjects with a few words. All
men have some genius ; and some men are gifted
enough to appear all genius. One is never quite
certain how much of this precious quality Max
Reinhardt possesses. It is clear he has the ability
to plan on the largest scale and in accordance with
the most advanced ideas. He knows how to bring
up-to-date grist to his mill. He has vitalising
force, and everything he touches he vitalises so
far as his peculiar methods will permit. To an
extraordinary capacity for organisation he unites
tremendous energy. Physically he is of the vital
type. Somewhat below the average height, he is
of conspicuous sturdiness and possessed of unusual
power of endurance. His well-known portrait
reveals certain notable characteristics, such as
emotional intellectuality, strength of character,
modesty, and restless ambition. There is an ex-
pression of sensuality to which no doubt could
be traced his tendency towards art, and especially
his love of rich sensational colour. The dominant
, note of the man is power.

It does not matter greatly whether he set out

Digni..>di.!i Google

HIS ORIGIN

consciously to pass through all the necessary stages
to complete self-realisation, or whether he pro-
gressed unconsciously stage by stage, seizing in-
stinctively each point of advantage as it appeared,
and assimilating the significant things of the
moment as he went. All intelligent men assimilate.
We can hear them saying, " There is something
for me in the very latest achievement of that man.
He is great enough for me to steal from. I see
how right he is in what he is doing. I see some-
thing that is a step beyond my own work. Others
will see it, but will only seek to imitate it. I am
intelligent and will try to build on it." Loftiness
of aim justifies plagiarism. Coming to the true
story of Reinhardt's career, we find that throughout
and above all he is an actor. From first to last
he has stimulated the acting potentialities of the
drama and theatre. It was as an actor that Otto
Brahm discovered him when, in 1890, that famous
critic-director was hunting for talent in Austria,
At the time, the latter was visiting the School
of Acting of the Vienna Conservatorium, and his
object was, no doubt, to watch a performance given
by the students. During the course of the per-
formance his attention was drawn to a student
who was giving a remarkable interpretation of an
old man. Brahm, with that profound perception of
talent which has marked his directorship, noted
that this short, somewhat stodgy actor had in him
the material for a character-actor of the first order
for his own school of realism. There was in the
young man an unusual mingling of originality
and force which promised interesting results. He

ji,Gtx>

36 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

did not, however, engage Reinhardt at once, but
waited till he had gained professional experience
by a year's playing at Salzburg. In 1892 Brahm
visited Salzburg and found Reinhardt interpret-
ing old men with the technical skill of an old, ex-
perienced actor — being dramatically effective yet
naturalistically correct in every detail. As a result
Brahm offered him an engagement at the Deutsches
Theater, then, as now, the foremost German theatre,
whose prestige among German actors is as great as
that of the Comedie Fran9aise among French actors.
The selection was fully justified. At the Deutsches
Theater, Reinhardt soon made his strong person-
ality felt, and in a theatre where all the actors
were equal in the sight of the director, he was
not long in satisfying his ambition. Reinhardt, it
seems, is composed of that ambitious material which
makes for success. Unlike so many professionals
who sit down and wait for likely things to turn
up, he knew how to prepare for opportunities, and
to make the most of them when they came. On
the stage it is the unexpected that always happens.
In EngUsh theatres a great deal is left to chance.
There is no organised system of promotion. It
is to this element of chance that many of our
foremost actors and actresses owe their position.
They have patiently waited and watched for the
right part, and persevered in choosing and mastering
each suitable part that offered in readiness for the
opportunity to play it. Possibly one of the wise
habits of Max Reinhardt was that of closely
watching parts which he felt he was suited to play.
To practise this habit in a theatre presided over

[ DigmzcdbyCooale 4

HIS ORIGIN

by a director who had an intelligent system of
promoting the members of his company was to
encourage happy results. So it was with Reinhardt.
His chance came and he seized it. The story.
goes that among the actors cast for the production ',
of Gerhard Hauptmann's The Beaver Fur was \
one named MiiUer. Miiller, who was cast to play /
the old skipper, committed suicide on the eve I
of the production. Brahm was in a fix. The ;
part was an important one, and no understudy hadJ
been rehearsed for it. An indefinite postponement!
entailing loss of time and money seemed inevitable.'
At this moment Reinhardt came forward worn
perfect and fully prepared to go on. Brahm per-1
mittcd him to do so, and Max Reinhardt gavel
Berlin a new sensation in acting. In one scene ofj
Hauptmann's merciless satire on Prussian bureau-
cracy, the old skipper has only a thinking part. ]
Reinhardt endowed the interpretation with suchj
remarkable silent by-play that it afterwards became
the gem of the representation. From this moment)
his progress was assured. He pursued his acting
career with ardour and enthusiasm, broadening those
characteristics which Brahm had noticed when, as
a twenty-year-old amateur, he had appeared at the
Vienna School of Acting, and afterwards as a pro-
fessional at Salzburg. A sure instinct for character
and philosophical types led him to develop
along these lines, and to interpret successfuUv
many well-known parts. Ibsen's old man Foldal,'',
Hauptmann's Baumert in The IVeavers, Tolstoy's \
Akim in The Power of Darkness^ the depraved
cabinetmaker Engstrand in Ibsen's Ghosts^ the /

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38 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

philosophic Mortensgard in Ibsen's Rosmersholm,
the old skipper in Hauptmann's The Beaver
Fur, the moody headmaster Stormer in Dreyer's
Probationers — these were some of the r6Ies that
Reinhardt created.

NaturaHsm wag^th^kfynntp nf >iig intprpr-^tat^"".
It was just atout the time of his joining the
Deutsches Theater company that naturahsm was
making itself strongly felt in German acting.
Brahm had promoted it in the Deutsches Theater,
and the distinguished work of some of its exponents,
Josef Kainz (the first to introduce psychological
acting at the Deutsches Theater), Rudolf Rittner,
and Agnes Sorma, served to fire Reinhardt's talent
in this direction, and to give him rich impressions
which he has never forgotten. Thus at the
Deutsches Theater he fully assured his future as
an actor. But his thirst for progress impelled
him to seek a wider sphere of action.

Accordingly we find him joining the " Freie
BUhne," a dramatic institution answering in some
respects to the London Stage Society. Here he
remained, giving his naturalistic and psychological
renderings of parts, and acquiring craftsmanship
that was destined to carry him to heights. So he
continued to interpret the naturalistic methods 6i
this partTcurar"stage^oc1eiyV tin, finding that its
naturalism h ad drif ted into a riit and was fast
bcconiag mere photography, he broke away.
We next find him Infected by the " Ueberbrett!"
(or, so-called, " Cabaret ") movement which had
suddenly sprung up, and was attracting the atten-
tion of live exponents of the new spirit in drama.

ni,;ni.rdbyG005tJ&

art, and literature throughout Germany. An
example of this " artistic cabaret " movement has
just made its appearance in England. In " The
Cave of the Golden Calf," London's first Cabaret
Theatre Club, or midnight restaurant-theatre, are
found many of the features in a revised form
contained in the earlier German theatrical clubs or
combined music-hall and Montmartre Cabaret. It
is decorated by advanced artists, including Eric
Gill, Spencer F. Gore, and Wyndham Lewis. Its
object is " to provide throughout the night a
refuge place, an atmosphere of vivid colours,
music, and motion." Moreover, it provides repre-
sentations and interpretations of high merit, and
it is designed to promote a desirable intimacy
between all artistic classes. As Mr Austin
Harrison, editor of the English Review, explains
somewhere : " Our stage is small enough to bring
the artists into close and intimate touch with the
audience, making it more of a social affair of the
drawing-room than of the theatre." This is just
the sort of intimacy between artists and the public
that is needed to stimulate a much desired spirit
of intimacy in the theatre, similar to that which
is springing up in the German theatres. An in-
crease of drama cabarets such as " The Cave of the
Golden Calf" in England might help the dramatic
movement in the theatre. But of*course the Inti-
mate Theatre will be quite a different affair from
the Intimate Cabaret. In the former there will
be no feeding while the performance is on.

Being badly bitten by this theatrical club move-
, mcnt, Reinhardt, and a number of sympathisers.

ji,Goo;

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

among them Christian Morgenstern, Friedrich
Kayssler, Richard Vallentin, and Martin Zickel,
met together jp a rg&taurant in _the._ X-essing-
strasse, where they founded the ilBrille," much as
Whistler and his confreres used to meet in the Six
Bells at Chelsea, where the Chelsea Arts Club was
founded. The "Brille"wasconducted privately, only
members^ mostly comedians, and their friends being
privileged to participate in the sing-songs and the
Bohemian entertainments directed by Reinhardt.
It^washere. that— Reinlianit_jirst_b_eeame possessed
o^ the idea of intimacy. The " Brille " flourished.
rr~gave Remh"ar3t full"scope for his original ideas,
and its members grew in number and quality.
Soon this tavern-born example of originality, sense,
and imagination outgrew its design, and a larger
and more ambitious one, equally instinct with life
and motion, was outlined. It emerged under the
title of " Schall und-Rauch " (Sound and Smoke) , and
proved to be based on more solid qualities than its
title implies. This choice of a larger design did not
at first interfere with the private character of the
entertainment. It removed to the Kiinstlerhaus in the
Bellevuestrasse, continued to maintain its Bohemian
aspect, and to keep the moods going from midnight
to dawn. But fame will out, even Kiinstlerhaus
fame, and if a company of amiable entertainers have
anything good to give away they cannot expect
the world to remain long in ignorance of the fact.
Accordingly the Berlin world was soon knocking
at the Kiinstlerhaus door, and as it refused to be
argued into going away, Reinhardt and his confreres
consented to come out and have popularity thrust

rdbyCooalej

HIS ORIGIN 41

upon them. So they departed for Unter den
Linden, where they built one of those httle intimate
theatres which are destined to be a form of the
theatre of the future. The ambition of the " Schall
und Rauch " grew. But its fresh outburst had a
commendable practical basis. Beyond its expres-
sion of vaudeville vigour of body and mind, in
parodies of well-known authors — Maeterlinck,
Ste^ii George, and Hofmannsthal — in one-act
social satires, in grotesque song and dance — beyond
these it had a discerning, understanding, and
sympathetic eye for unknown players to whom
the Berlin Theatre was a closed door. Among
these was Gertrud Eysoldt, who made her en-
trance upon the '* Schall und Rauch " stage one
December evening in 1901, and swam into instant
favour on some Danish gutter-songs. Her " star "
has never set. A second appeared, also without
engagement. This was Emanuel Reicher. A
third was " discovered," the immensely clever Rosa
Bcrtens. In this way Reinhardt gave to the
German stage talent which otherwise might have
been lost to it, as so much is lost in England.

Throughout the " Freie Buhne," " Ueberbrettl,"
and "Schall und Rauch" period, Reinhardt had
remained under the formative influence of Brahm,
without which it is conceivable his activities would
have suffered a certain lack. What had chiefly
characterised him so far had been his steady pursuit
of naturalism and culture. His naturalism and
culture were, in their own way, ofi^hoots of
Goethe's, who long ago had set the tone of the
"crman theatre. Thus, as Reinhardt's person-

I. ■■, iM,Coo<;lc

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

ality unfolded, it was bound to take deep root in
the literary movement to which Brahm had added
a decided impulse. Vaudeville had played its
essential part in the long course of preparation
Reinhardt was undergoing. It was necessary that
the comedic no less than the dramatic instinct should
be fully developed in him. If he was destined to
be a director-producer, one, moreover, aiming to
revolutionise the culture theatre, it was necessary
he should be an all-round man, able to touch the
highest and lowest note of dramatic life ; able to
navigate the variegated stream of drama from its
source in time, through the past, present, and
possible. So, having established a useful record
of work in vaudeville, he began to turn to serious
things, and exhibited an eager taste for literary
drama. As his literary ambition grew, so the
character of his entertainments changed, and we
find him in igoi deserting the variety stage for
the literary theatre. With characteristic boldness
he marked his new departure by producing Strind-
berg — whose greatness both as a revolutionary
dramatist, as a power of the new movement in
Swedish literature, and as a many-sided profound
thinker, is only just becoming known in England,
now that he is dead. Two one-act pieces by
Strindberg were given, to be followed four weeks
later by a longer piece. With the beginning of
the new season the name " Schall und Ranch"
was inurned, and the Kleines Theater sprang from
the ashes. One of Reinhardt's first successes at
this theatre was Strindberg's Rausch. This was
followed by the Salome sensation. It seems ii

ji,Gooale ,

had been arranged to give a public performance
of Oscar Wilde's Salo?ne, but the censor banned
it, thus proving that censorship is sometimes a
sanctuary from badly behaved women. There-
upon Reinhardt, seizing his chance, resolved to
produce the piece privately, as it is now the
custom to produce censored pieces in England.
He did so, and with a remarkable cast, including
Eysoldt as Salome, Kayssler, Louise Dumont
(now intimately connected with the Dusseldorf
Theater), and Reinhardt himself, who impressed
everyone with the episode of the praying Jew.
The first performance staggered even Berlin.
It is curious to note that the production inspired
Kicl^ard Strauss to write his Salome opera. From
this we gather that, audacious as the production
was, it contained the precious life-blood of artistic
inspiration. Thehighest function of drama is
to inspire art ; otherwise it is sapless and voice-
1^1 ^ITpparently Reinhardt had conceived the
notion that it was time the Berlin Theatre left
the hospital for the sanatorium. Having given
Strindberg, Wilde, and Wedekind immediate
Berlin popularity and lasting fame, so to speak, and
hung their culture with the votive offering of art,
he began to search in wider fields for any author
who gave evidence of intellectual force, in what-
ever kind, above the average literary and theatre
quality. .He did no^.seek jiames in the literary
domain^that were only names. He sought authors
whose, wo rk would keep one in the stalls or by the
fire by their strength of originality and fullness of
I Gonteot, if not altogether by the magnetism of die

44 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

creative imagination. That he succeeded is fully
shown by the list of authors and plays published
at the end of this volume.

He was now beginning to focus his energies.
On the 1st of January 1903 he left the Brahm
ensemble for good, in order to concentrate upon
directorship and to continue his acting for a time.
Beyond this he was beginning to work under a
different sky. The spirit of style had taken posses-
sion of him, and, as some persons contend, had
carried him beyond Brahm to the point where he
turned from the latter's form of naturalism {which,
however, was not Brahm's distinguishing feature)
to artistic realism or " style," as it is termed.
According to the pubHcation Das Deutsche Theater,
the naturalism which preceded this was no style
(" stillos"). It may be mentioned here that for
the last ten years, at least, a number of Euro-
pean reformers have been actively engaged in the
attempt to bring style into the theatre. Among

/these are Reinhardt, Georg Fuchs, Professor Litt-

j mann, Craig, Adolph Appia,Bakst,and Stanislawsky.

' These enthusiasts agreed that the note of style was
to be sought and found in coherence and uniformity,
in simplification and synthesisation. Accordingly
each play was to be given its own character ; its
peculiar mood was to be developed and preserved

.throughout. Of course the methods employed
to attain style were different, varying from the
relievo-stereoscopic ideas of the Kiinstler Theater
to the deepening suggestiveness of Mr Gordon
Craig.

" 'ax Reinhardt's conception of " style " is said

jb,Goot;lc

HIS ORIGIN 45

to have appeared in his production of Gorky's
lower Depths. But it is extremely doubtful
whether Reinhardt produced this formless, incoher-
ent piece of realism. Indeed, the wonderful points
which characterised the production revealed the
hand of the very highly gifted Richard Vallentin,
who unfortunately died too young to realise fully
the splendid promise he gave as a producer. It
may be that Reinhardt learnt a great deal from
Vallentin, who was the most original producer
of his time, and is not known to have had a
predecessor in his own line of realism. In any
case, I believe I may safely say that Reinhardt
had but an acting acquaintance with the Lmver
Depths^ playing the part of the old pilgrim
*' Luka." This synthesis of Brahm and Vallentin,
of naturalism and realism, ran for five hundred
performances, excluding imagination, and attracting
the Berhncrs by the sheer force of unthinkable
brutality.

Owing to the long run of the Lower Depths,
and in order to fulfil other contracts, Reinhardt
was compelled to seek a larger theatre. In 1903
he took over the " Neues Theater," still, however,
retaining the KJeines Theater. Here he began to
give full expression to his talent for play-production.
He maintained and widened his Kleines Theater
aim by abandoning his earlier naturalistic methods,
taking part in the realistic revival in Berlin, and
devoting himself to the application of Vallentin's
realistic principles, while at the same time widen-
ng their artistic bases. He now began fully to
realise the importance of appealing to the eye of

DigitizcdbyGOOQle J

46 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

the spectator by unity of form, colour, and move-
ment. He also felt the return to mysticism and
symbolism inaugurated by Hofmannsthal and
Stefan George, and sought to give the spoken
word its largest significance — that of illuminating
the soul of the drama. In this way he was led to
add Maeterlinck's Peikas and Melisande, which four
years previously had been a failure at the Theatre
Royal, to his repertory of successes, thus claiming
four victories in less than a year — Rausch, Salome,
Nachtasyl, and Pel/eas and Melisande. That Rein-
hardt was successful in following the author's
intentions was admitted by Maeterlinck, when in
1909 he wrote to Reinhardt congratulating him
on his fine efforts on behalf of the art of the
theatre — efforts which appeared to him to be the
most remarkable in the world. He confessed that
he owed Reinhardt a great debt of gratitude,
because the latter alone had dared to produce two
or three of his plays which were thought to be
unplajable.

It seems as though Reinhardt has never con-
sidered a piece unplayable. The more difficult
the play to be produced, the more boldly he has
emerged. H e em bodies, in fact, the modern mili-
tant spirit — a spirit marked by audacity and fighting
force. No one in this century has expressed this
spiritin the theatre more persistently and thoroughly,
exhibiting a certain kind of unchained energy that
made progress meteoric but certain. As a dynamic
figure, as a revolutionary who has fired all cultural
points in a vigorous endeavour to exalt the Will
of the Theatre, where of recent j^^ears emotionless

^^^

HIS ORIGIN 47

intellect has alone been enshrined, in his effort to
bring himself face to face with a new theatrical
world, the elements of which he has eagerly
absorbed so far as it is possible, and to justify the
demands of his emotional nature, as well as to
render himself master of a chaotic domain, by
reducing its chaos to order, he probably has no
equal in the contemporary theatre. In purely
artistic endeavour alone, he has been surpassed.

At the " Neues Theater " we find him actively
engaged weaving the new spell out of the hints
and suggestions of the old one. Realistic romance
had touched him, and we find him adapting the
methods of realism to romantic subjects. Thus
he transforms Shakespeare into a blend of realist
and Parnassian, and, strangely enough, the Bard
stood the experiment very well. Shakespeare has
the business merit of standing anything well. I
believe if someone came along and bade him put
on evening dress, Shakespeare would do it and
walk down Piccadilly or Unter den Linden with-
out being mistaken for a waiter. Mr Gordon
Craig recently put him in dark grey trousers with
side pockets, and still Shakespeare did not look
like a shop-walker. Shakespeare has been treated
80 often as a man who does not know his own
mind that he can now adapt himself to any
emergency. However, he had not much to com-
plain of in his appearance in A Midsummer Night's
Dream. If there is one thing that Reinhardt
understands, it is the child-like spirit of fantasy
which is contained in Shakespeare's comedies. So
strong is the spirit in these comedies that I believe

3dbyG00gIC

48 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

they were meant for children to interpret. I am not
alone in this belief ; Mr WilHam Poel profoundly
shares it. He once produced one of Shakespeare's
plays in which only East-End school children took
part. Two things struck me about the representa-
tion, the joy of life spirit with which the children
invested their parts, and the wonderful preservation
of the mood of the play throughout. The child-
actors simply enjoyed the thing, played with perfect
ease, and left one with the impression that the dull,
gloomy old world was not so dull and gloomy after
all. I have ever since been drawn by a mighty
aiFection towards that representation of Shakespeare
by children. The secret of Reinhardt's success in
producing Shakespearean comedy lies in the fact
that he enjoys himself. He certainly did so when
staging A MUsummer Night's Dream. And he
called in the aid of others who were also under the
spell of its child-like charm. And so by means of
appropriate music, acting, and decoration, this de-
lightful fantasy took Berlin by storm, as we are
usually bidden to say in trade terms.

In this way Reinhardt continued his perfectly
logical development, giving expression to the force
that was working from underground into the light.
He had passed in turn from the unnatural dis-
cipline of the school of acting into the beginnings
of a professional career where he began to gaze
more clearly on natural methods of acting ; thence
' to a new form of naturalism under Brahm and
jthe Freie Biihne ; thence we turn from this, as
(it lost its freshness for him, to the artistic realism
\of Vallentin, the symbolism of Maeterlinck, the

^^^Qo^g^^

HIS ORIGIN

romance of Shakespeare, to an artistic naturalism, j
and thence to the new aesthetic synthesis of move-/
ment, colour, and sound, upon which he got soundly J
drunk without developing the usual theatre symfh/
loms of unlovely liverishness. | Throughout this
period he encountered and gradually overcame the
opposition of the Berlin press. By this time he
was seeking even a wider field of expression, and
his good fortune did not fail him. In 1905 we
find Adolph I'Arronge seeking a new man for the
Deutsches Theater. His choice fell on Reinhardt,
who was no stranger to the house, having com-
menced his Berlin experience there but a few years
previously. But it was not the actor Reinhardt,
but the producer Reinhardt, that I'Arronge chose
for the Deutsches Theater. In the autumn of
1905 Reinhardt transferred his activities to the
famous Schumannstrasse playhouse. In doing so
he relinquished the Kleines Theater and retained
the Ncues Theater for a season longer. At the
Deutsches Theater he continued to widen his
policy, and gradually began to touch his highest
development as a producer. He focussed on or-
ganisation, made the theatre a cosmopolitan centre
for English, Belgian, Austrian, German, Russian,
Scandinavian players, and a centre for the plays
of the younger Sturmer und Dranger of his time,
including French authors, and thus estabHshed a
Continental reputation for it. He widened the
scope of symbolical representation and interpreta-
tion, and provided a framework for plays which was
intended to invest realistic forms with a symbolic
meaning, such as, for instance, two empty thrones

50 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

occupying an empty stage, and placed face to face,
so as to suggest a universe divided against itself.
And he stimulated the invention of mechanical
devices, which have added materially to the re-
sources of one of the best equipped theatres in
Europe. Besides this, he laid a surer foundation
for the intimate theatre. Finding the Deutsches
Theater too large, and the distance between the
audience and the actors too great to produce and
preserve the essential mood of plays which by
their nature can only appeal to a limited and
highly cultured audience, Reinhardt determined
to build a small theatre suited to the purpose
of producing such plays. Adjoining the Deutsches
Theater was a dance-hall which he converted into
a small theatre, to which he gave the name of
Kammerspielhaus. The physical features of the
theatre are notable. The auditorium is constructed
to hold only three hundred spectators, and but three
feet separate it from the stage. Its warm rose-
colour walls and ample red upholstered seats, its
thickly carpeted floor, and its rich decorations tend
to give it the air of a precious theatre. Here are
produced literary plays, including a peculiar order
of conversational pieces that do not lend themselves
to decoration, but merely require a round table
and some chairs so that (figuratively speaking) the
audience may sit among the actors and take part
in the dissections or discussions. It is a modern
advance on the old condition, when the audience
used to sit on the stage grouped round the actors.
The Kammerspielhaus was opened in 1906. Das
IkuUche Theater wrongly gives the date as 1896.

DigmzribyCoOgle

HIS ORIGIN

Thus favourably equipped, Reinhardt found no
difficulty in pursuing the various problems of repre-
sentation and interpretation. His experiments in
perspective, colour, and lighting, in the proper
relation between the actor and spectator, the actor
and scenery, do not exhaust the work of the
Deutsches Theater. Throughout and above all
his chief work here has been the splendid chances
of development he has designed his system to
afford to some of the most gifted authors, actors,
and actresses who in the atmosphere of the
Deutsches Theater have risen to unexpected heights.
Reinhardt will always be remembered for his un-
aizmpkd loyalty to the unknown actor. From
first to last he has helped those who stand looking
in at the window of the theatre for chances which
no one will offer them. To-day his strenuousness
is unabated. But it is in the direction of early
and colossal Greek expression rather than in that
of wideness and intensity of vision. He has taken
to thinking in the arena. His first utterance was
naturalistic ; his last should be mystic. I say last
advisedly, because we can only survey his beginning
as yet.

byGOOQ

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT

Disparagement is the soul of levity. It is a
common complaint of Max Reinhardt's detractors
that he stands for many things of which he is
not the originator. It is the common fault of
remarkable men that owing to the peculiarity of
their temperament and the uncontrollableness of
the circumstances in which they are placed, they
help themselves freely to whatever ideas happen to
be lying about. In fact, they assimilate, in many
instances, unconsciously, and thus set the long arm
of coincidence waving in the face of their jealous
opponents, who are not slow to set up a charge
of plagiarism. There is nothing that is so often
mistaken for plagiarism as coincidence. Perhaps it
is because every individual is a potential plagiarist.
Thus De Quincey's charge of plagiarism against
Coleridge is as much a revelation of De Quincey as
Gordon Craig's charge against Reinhardt and the
whole of Europe and the United States of America
is of Gordon Craig. Great and important men
cannot help being responsive to the influences
which surround them. And some have been guilty
of conscious plagiarism. It breaks one's heart to
think of it, but it's true. Some of Max Reinhardt's

rd by Google

^ INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 53

critics go so far as to suggest that he is as " an un-
conscionable plagiary as Byron." It is not my
purpose here to answer criticisms, but one comment
deser\'es notice. Herein disparagement reaches the
point of levity.

A signed article in the Sketch of June 19 12
maintains that Max Reinhardt really stands for
nothing. The sources from which he has helped
himself arc endless, and apparently he has no more
claim to any of his materials than Shakespeare to any
of his plots. He has associated himself with the
Saxe-Meiningen Court Company's crude ideas, with
*' the uplifted hands and crinkling fingers used in
Ben-Hur," with lighting effects that were ancient
before Gordon Craig heard of them, with the
novelties of the Greek, Morality, and Shakespearean
Stages, and with the Craig notion of an autocratic
producer. The writer concludes that Max Rein-
hardt may have ideas of his own, but "after seeing
several gushing articles about him, and seeing all
the specimens of his art in London," he believes that
Reinhardt may be dismissed with a kick. The
reply to this sort of wind-bagging is that the writer
has been reading "gushing articles" whose writers
arc as imperfectly acquainted with Max Reinhardt's
development as he evidently is, and that he has had
the misfortune to witness samples of the German
producer's work in London — that is, in theatres
imperfectly equipped for their production. He
has, in fact, proved himself to be " an uncon-
scionable plagiary" in borrowing the opinions of
others, and misrepresenting both Reinhardt and the
aforesaid imperfectly housed productions.

1 ^_ I. I ii,Google

^^ 54 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

^H The truth about Reinhardt is that he is a
^H sensitive. At every turn of his career he has
encountered a flow of influences striking against
him and producing various responses. Some of the
influences he has rejected, some he has accepted,
culled their essential features, broke from them or
gone beyond them. If we examine the ladder up

P which he has passed to his present position, we shall
find that it is composed of an infinite number of
stimuli and responses ; of attractions, acceptances,
and repulses, of experiments and results.

Let us begin with the lowest rung of the ladder

I and pass along with Reinhardt to the position he
has attained, noting as we go the influences and
what he has extracted from them.
Naturalism
It will be remembered that Reinhardt was first
discovered walking on at a school of acting, and that
he afterwards played professionally at Salzburg for a
year. He then passed under the direction of Otto
Brahm. At this point he may be said definitely to
have assumed the robe of naturalism which Goethe
bequeathed to the German theatre some generations
before. The influences that produced Reinhardt
then seemingly began with Goethe, as well as with
Schiller. Strictly speaking, they originated with
^ Shakespeare, if we consider the English and French
^H influences which influenced the work of Goethe
^V and Schiller and resulted in the transference of
supremacy in drama during the following genera-
tions to Germany. This hardly agrees with Mr
H. B. Irving's distinction, when he speaks of ,

u,-Go

^INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 55

the seventeenth century being noteworthy for
great drama, the eighteenth for great acting, and
the nineteenth for great stage-mounting. Though
the nineteenth century had some noteworthy
stage-mounting, the great stage-mounting has yet
to come. Goethe reflected the naturaHsm of the
Sturm und Drang period, he was also influenced
by the nature-philosophy of Spinoza, Schelling,
and Rousseau ; but he did not go to Rousseau's
length of breaking with culture. Indeed, both
culture and nature were equally important to him.
His naturalism look the form of turning his face
to the purely human aspect of mankind, and de-
manding a naturalistic expression from the theatre.
t^Schiller laid emphasis on the cultural or educational
of the theatre. He saw the theatre as a

dium of mental and moral development, as a
leans of focussing the reading and thinking mind

the nation and disseminating the academical
wisdom of this said mind throughout the land.

Both Goethe and Schiller were present at a
transitional period in the literary and dramatic
history of Germany, when men had found a new
touch with nature and life and were setting forth
in quest of new adventures, with vital theories of
poetry, drama, and art, to urge them on. Some
were accompanied by the ideas of J. L. Tieck, the
two Schlegels and Novalis, the leaders of the new
Romantic School ; while others were caught up
later by the more positive and naturaUstic aspect
of the " Young German movement." If we con-
sider that Heinrich von Kleist, a dramatist of the
romantic movement, and the German Shakespeare,

^ I. ■■. iM,Coot;le

56 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

as he has been called, left no successor, that his prin-
ciples lay dormant till rediscovered by the Austrians
and French some years later, we may conclude that
the naturalistic movement soon took the lead.

■ This naturalistic tendency found expression in

the Freie Biihne movement at Berlin. The Freie
BUhne was established to give effect to the move-
ment towards a closer union of the theatre and
literature which has marked the close of the

■ nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth
century in Germany, and which has found ex-
pression elsewhere in, for instance, Antoine's Free
Theatre and the Incorporated Stage Society. It
was one of the earliest steps towards the formation

I of that arena in which literary battles were to be
fought out. Accordingly it became actively en-
gaged in the propaganda of the work of what may
be termed the Freie Buhne group, Ibsen, Haupt-
mann. Max Halbe, and O. E. Hartleben. Its
first production was Ibsen's Ghosts^ and this was
followed a month later by Hauptmann's Das
Friedensfest. In short, it stood for the production
of unconventional plays acted in a naturalistic
fashion which gradually became ultra-naturalistic.
Thus it constituted a strong and beneficent break
from stilted artificiality and cloying conventions.
It drew its actors from the best sources and gave
its performances on Sunday afternoons, that being
the only time when the said actors were at liberty.
The performances were given at different theatres,
as is the case with the Incorporated Stage Society
of London. The latter is, in fact, an imitation of

jb^Goo;

gte^

similar developments by initiating a Freie Volks-
bUhne movement answering to that which was
undoubtedly stimulated by the Freie Biihne.

To-day the People's Stage Societies are 6ourishing
in Germany, exerting an influence for good and
stimulating progress, whereas in England they are
still lacking. In London the Stage Society is still
our sole example of a Freie Biihne. It resembles a
respectable, highly educated parrot running round
begging for a perch in unsuitable theatres, and
interpreting *' masterpieces " in an inglorious
fashion by means of a Home and Colonial assort-
ment of actors. Generally speaking, it does not
exert the influence of a parrot. It has been urged
by way of excuse that the Stage Society has
been killed by the Press ; that Germany possesses
intelligent critics who work enthusiastically for
the welfare of the theatre, while England has
not yet given birth to a dramatic critic. The
unfortunate person who is asked by his editor
to attend a Stage Society festival invariably
misrepresents the character of the entertain-
ment. If he witnesses a thoughtful play he
goes home and spills columns of ink in describing
it " gloomy," " depressing," and so forth. And
because he tells the truth, forthwith he is labelled
fat-head. If it is uncertain whether we do possess
dramatic critics, or only literary critics called forth
by the literary " drama," there is no doubt that
Germany not only does possess them, but helps
some of them to a directing and improving position
in the theatre. Thus it was that Otto Brahm was
^Mromoted from critic to critic-director.

■

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Ensembleism and Psychology

Otto Brahm came into active co-operation with
the work of the theatre at a moment when Ger-
many was beginning to manifest a remarkable
hterary activity, and when the drama was once
more beginning to command chief interest in
Germany. The permanent repertory of the theatre
was being enriched by writers of brilliant and
suggestive ideas, and new forms of drama were
springing up out of the experiments made by the
older writers who were not content to rest on their
successes. It was a moment made memorable by
the names of Ibsen, Hauptmann, and Sudermann.
Both Brahm and Schlenther started as critics and
from critics became successful managers. Brahm
was moreover fitted to take part in the literary
movement in the theatre by his wide knowledge
of German literature and foreign movements and
literatures. He recognised that the future be-
longed to the new-comers, and as a critic he
fought for their interests, while as a director he
practically promoted them. There is no finer
proof of this than his amazing loyalty to Ibsen
and Gerbart Hauptmann. Perhaps his loyalty
was partly due to his whole-hearted love of the
psychological drama. His contribution to the
modern theatre was indeed ensemble acting derived
from the Meiningers, and modern psychological
acting derived from Josef Kainz, one of his pre-
decessors at the Deutsches Theater. Soon after
becoming one of the leaders of the Freie Biihne,
he was appointed director of the Deutsches Theater,

i>,Coot;lc

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT

where he remained ten years, till 1904, when he
became director of the Lessing Theater. At the
Dcutsches Theater he obtained full scope for
applying his reforms. It was here that Reinhardt
came under Brahm's influence, and through
Brahm, under that of the Freie Biihne, thus de-
veloping in this naturalistic school till he found it
necessary to break fresh ground. From Brahm
he also derived ideas of ensemble and psychology.
Brahm succeeded Adolf I'Arronge at the Deutsches
Theater. The latter was a playwright and critic
and exponent of the classical school of drama of
the 'seventies. Brahm did not continue I'Arronge's
tradition, but occupied himself with the production
of modern plays, in the interpretation of which none
but the most cultivated players were permitted to
take part. He persistently sought psychological
uniformity, and had even the smallest parts played
by thoroughly eificient players. Under his direc-
tion every player was deprived of his mere stage
personality and subjected to the will of the author ;
all the subordinate instruments were tuned to
accord with that of the master-musician. Thus
he promoted the Will of the drama, while regard-
ing his theatre as the highest culture-centre.

Thus in time he surrounded himself with a group
of modern and cultured men and women, who not
only could play the parts allotted to them, but knew
how to subordinate themselves to the main interest of
the piece, and thoroughly understood the intellectual
character of that which they were interpreting.
As a contrast to this I may point to the London
stage, where half the modern plays — c&pec\)&!i:]

6o THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

those by Mr Bernard Shaw — are interpreted by
actors who do not understand what they are doing
and saying. The resuh is that, as many of these
plays are on the level of consciousness and quite
devoid of emotion, and the players are mostly in
the subconscious region, we are offered amazing
examples of cinc-gramophonitis. This distressing
state of affairs seems to have impressed itself
upon the brain of more than one person con-
nected with the English stage. Though not
possessed of vast erudition, and entirely lacking
the artist-vision, Mr Charles Frohman has dis-
covered that " if you can find an actor that looks
a part, be thankful ; if you can find an actor that
acts a part, be thankful ; but if you can find an
actor that looks and acts a part, get down on
your knees and thank God." Some day, when
Mr Frohman has ceased from scraping in the
shekels, he may pause to think. Then, may be,
he will add the essential tailpiece to bis dictum.
If you find an actor who illuminates a part, get
down on your knees and worship his genius. But
this will not happen till we have abolished a
pernicious system whereby authors in this country
select players with but one view, namely, to match
parts, as women match pieces of dress material, and
to speak and move automatically at the direction of
the author. "All the activities of the theatre are
group activities, and the Art of the Stage is the
Art of Ensemble," says Carl Hagemann in his
comprehensive Regie. It was on the application of
these two principles, then, that Brahm rose to fame.
Brahm has, in fact, reached a perfection of ensemble

I. ■■, ii,Cooglc

Lth

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVEtOPMENT 61

never before attained. He has gathered together
a body of players who act harmoniously together,
and act into each other's hands. They consider
the play as a whole, and allow no part of it to
protrude. In fact, they give it a collective indi-
viduality and quicken it with the collective Will
of the Theatre, so far as this Will can be expressed
under the Brahm system. There is no over-em-
phasis. Indeed, some critics say that Brahm has
so abolished over-emphasis that the interpretation
is too subdued. Be this as it may, the ensemble
system is an immense advance on the one-man
system in England — a system under which stars
bulge over the footlights, players are taught to
fight for the centre of the stage, and the limelight
man beams incandescently on the leading actor or
actress. Examine the centre of the stage of any
of our London theatres and it will be found to be
worn into a slippery hollow. The hollow worn
in the centre of the English stage is the symbol of
the Limited Individuality Company. It may be
possible that Brahm was influenced in some direc-
tions by the Comedie Fran9aise. To a great extent
he answers the description which Georg Brandes
has given of Edmond Thierry, the director of the
Theitre Fran9ais : " A conversation with him was
a regular course in Dramaturgy." And he suc-
ceeded in making first the Deutsches Theater, and
afterwards the Lessing Theater, centres to which
actors went for their diplomas. He, of course,
has given distinction to the German Repertory
system, and has always been highly accessible to
the demands of new talent. He never hesitated

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62 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

to advance very small part people in important
parts, and in so doing discovered many players of
talent.

But I think Brahm will live chiefly through the
loyalty he has shown to Ibsen, and the great praise
he has bestowed upon the Norwegian. Just as
Turner praised nature as painter had never done
before, and Ruskin praised Turner as critic had
never praised artist before, so Brahm has praised
Ibsen in a manner far above that of contemporary
producers. It is not too much to say that the repre-
sentation and interpretation of Ibsen in England
has been and still is a disgrace to the civilised
world. According to the English method, Ibsen
is interpreted backwards, following a singular defect
in Sir J. M. Barrie's method of working, according
to which, as Mr Frohman is kind enough to inform
us. Sir James begins to write his plays by entering
at the back door, thus starting with the climax first.
Leaving for a moment the consideration of this
miserably ener^'ated and disjointed system of inter-
pretation and the tendency of English players to
treat Ibsen as a joke, let me return to Brahm. The
latter's aim was to reach his audience through the
psychology of Ibsen. Whether he did so in a
manner to reach the collective intelligence of the
audience so that it responded simultaneously is not
a question to enter into here. It may be that
psychological interpretations are not the most
generally effective ones, seeing that what is one
man's psychology is another man's poison. And
though in a psychological world the science of
mind makes its appeal, in a sensible world sense

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INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT

alone counts. All that Brahm strove for was to
bring out the full psychological significance of the
part and the whole of each of Ibsen's plays. He
made everything direct and simple in its appeal.
But the appeal was through the brain. All his
players were chosen for this purpose, to make their
appeal not through the senses but through the
intellect. All the subconscious element of which
Ibsen's plays are so full was left out. Perhaps
Brahm made a mistake in interpreting Ibsen solely
as a psychologist. We shall see. Perhaps Ibsen
himself contributed to the mistake. We shall see.
In any case, Brahm regarded Ibsen as worthy of
his highest efforts. If he did not look upon
him altogether as a musician, he got more music,
more rhythm out of him than any other producer
has done. But he did not go far enough. He
was the first to give a complete and faithful
rendering of Ibsen — according to modern psycho-
logical conception and method. Such a conception
and method did not enable him to bring out the
finest shades of the dramatist's meaning. It is
only possible to obtain this meaning by re-inter-
preting Ibsen as a symbolist. When we come
to understand Ibsen thoroughly we shall find
that we should not concern ourselves about his
meaning so much as about the manner of obtaining
the meaning. On the stage the rule should be, take
care of the manner and the meaning will take care
of itself. It is a commonplace that wise men some-
times do stupid things. All things considered, this
is unwise of them, since stupidity is the thing that
other men are apt to imitate in them. Ibsen was

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64 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

no exception to the rule. He did stupid things,
and fools rushed in and imitated them. One piece
of stupidity was that, in breaking with a form of
drama that had been degraded to talking waxworks
and building a new one out of symbolic materials,
and with enormous capacity casting his plays so that
everything assumes its due place and proportion,
and the whole mood of each play is expressed in
perfect equilibrium, he smeared this form over with
real realism. In other words, he buried his symbol-
ism under a form of realism and became "purveyor
of drama of the middlings." This stupidity not only
robbed him of prestige, but it took the middlings
of Europe by storm, and, as we are painfully
aware, it sent the English middlings crazy. One
of the middlings was Mr Bernard Shaw who,
together with Oscar Wilde, has given birth to a
deadly illegitimate drama of modern times that it
will take centuries to stamp out. Mr Shaw saw
his way to a cheap triumph by retailing Ibsen's
misrepresentation of himself to an incompetent
public. Accordingly, he proclaimed Ibsen as
realist, social reformer, the master of miscarriages
in drama, of a crude and superficial form of work
that anyone can produce with a limited five-shilling
camera and unlimited cheek. Mr Shaw's crowning
effort in this direction is to be found in the obitu-
ary notice of Ibsen with which he draped the
memoriam number of the C/arion. In this mass
of stupidity we get a fresh evidence of the extent
to which the critical opinions of the so-called
advanced critics conform to the public opinions
which uphold the narrow prejudices of sects,

n the obitu-
draped the

n this mass M

F the extent fl

he so-called H

lie opinions H

:s of sects, fl

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 65

societies, and nations. The article is a foolish
attempt to throw a false light upon the origin of
Ibsen's ideas and the nature of his technique.
Speaking of Ibsen and death, he says : " What
was worse, Ibsen seems to have succumbed without
a struggle to the old notion that a play is not
really a play unless it contains a murder, a suicide,
or something else out of the Police Gazette." The
italics are mine. He continues : " The great men
born early in the nineteenth century were all like
that ; they visited the Morgue whenever they
went to Paris ; and they clung to Ruskin's receipt
for a popular novel — Kill a baby." If this proves
anything, it is that Mr George Bernard Shaw is
one of the middlings. He views Ibsenism as a
bit of real realism. It is not the reality of the
visionary — that is, a reality which lies beneath the
excrescences of life — but it is the unreal thing
which lies on the surface all the time. It also
proves that Mr Shaw is anxious to cloak his own
incompetency. " Only professional playwrights,"
he tells us, "can realise how old-fashioned it
(Ibsen's technique) was in its imitable and tradi-
tional qualities." Those who are acquainted with
Mr Shaw's early writings will know that in the
above respect Ibsen is only surpassed by Mr
Sbaw. Further, it was a confession that Mr Shaw
did not understand the tragic significance of death.
Being challenged by Mr William Archer in the
Tribune to exhibit his knowledge of this profound
subject, he forthwith set to work and produced
a work called The Doctors Dilemma^ which not
only showed that he was lacking the power to

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66 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

confute Mr Archer's argument, but was lacking
the dramatic sense on which to found a confuta-
tion. In short, his attempt to express death on
the stage was too silly for words, and all he
succeeded in doing was that of pricking the bubble
of his pretence to superiority. The stupidity of
Ibsen, then, consisted in laying himself open to
misrepresentation by dramatists with the Shaw
mind. He had a vision, and saw more in the
thing than the thing itself. Thus the thing
became a symbol of what Ibsen really saw. But
the symbolic side was never emphasised by him.
For instance, he neglected the background and left
it to be interpreted as a part of the physical man
or woman. Thus the background became, in the
hands of certain producers — the literary and moral
ones, for example — simply an excrescence. By
them it was composed not of those essentials spring-
ing out of the inner necessity of the action and
standing as a part of the spiritual man or woman,
but filled with excrescences with which the physical
man and woman love to surround themselves —
that is, the odds and ends of an auctioneer's catalogue
that look like wreckage littering a shore after
the tide has ebbed. Thus it was the fault of
Brahm to give Ibsen a local rather than a
universal character. He emphasised the three
things in Ibsen which have determined the trend
of the modern drama — Ibsen's habit of treating
apparently small everyday types as such and not
as cosmic realities, his photographic realism, and
his neglect to use the background as a means of
giving the widest expression to the fundamental

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT

idea. But throughout, Brahm has upheld faith in
Ibsen's greatness. He has contributed to that great-
ness in bringing out the important fact that Ibsen
was, before all, a patriot. Underlying Ibsen's plays
there is a fierce burning love of his own country, of
his own people, that will force him to reveal their
fundamental defects even at the risk of banishment
two or three times over. This was where Ibsen's
political greatness lay. He loved his country so
much that he would have sacrificed his soul for its
liberty. It is because he was a visionary-patriot
that, like Wyspianski, he towers above contem-
porary dramatists. Unfortunately, we have not
this spirit of patriotism in England. And it is
because we lack it that our drama is crude and
nasty, trivial and irrelevant. It is because Mr
Bernard Shaw is not a patriot that he misses
Ibsen's patriotism and exhibits Ibsen's apparent
inferiority in the curious tone of complaisancy
which is prevalent in suburban society. It is
noteworthy that explorers are at work rediscover-
ing Ibsen in other directions. Thus the Municipal
Theatre at Diisseldorf, under the intelligent director-
ship of Louise Dumont and Lindemann, is actively
engaged with the symbolic staging of Ibsen.
Soon there will be a general re-interpretation of
Ibsen's ideas. For one thing, Ibsen will be taken
out of the Morgue where Mr Shaw placed him,
and his notion of death spiritualised. I think
the deaths of Hedda and Lsvborg will be repre-
sented as being the result of a spiritual compact
between Hedda and Lovborg which can only be
. realised through physical death. LOvborg has

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68 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

degraded his work by collaborating with a common-
place woman, Mrs Elvstedt. Some persons may
call this new interpretation, spiritual eugenics —
that is, individuals doing on the spiritual plane
what scientists are endeavouring to do on the
physical one — acting on the conclusion that you
cannot have a perfect idea without a perfect union.
If we examine Ibsen's plays closely, it appears as
though he believed that the spiritually minded
person is he who ought not to be born, but, being
born, there is no need for him to make the best
or worst of a material world. There is always an
avenue for escape. Ibsenism maintains that self-
effacement is self-realisation. Brahm never rose
to this conception of Ibsen's ideas. Still, his failure
to recognise the symbolist in Ibsen is atoned for
by his recognition of the patriotic spirit which
pervades Ibsen's plays and by the inauguration of
Ibsen cycles. There was once a talk of Brahm
conducting such a cycle at His Majesty's Theatre,
London. But it was only a talk. There is no
hurry in England ; England was made for the
obsolete.

To sum up. Reinhardt has learnt from Brahm
the principle of the ensemble — no stars, no tricks,
no incompetence, all the players guided by a central
figure, the director, all the acting subordinated to
a central idea, the author's. To study the poet's
work, and give the poet his due, so far as experience
allows ; " not to misunderstand the poet, or to falsify
him for the sake of the vulgar mob," as the Blotter
des DeuUchen Theaters says ; to understand delicacy,
refinement, judgment ; to abolish all useless tradi-

rdbyCoo;

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INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 69

tions ; to promote talent and not eliminate it,
as in England ; to promote acting, and to kill
off ranting and melodramatic speech and action :
all this he learnt from Brahm. There is, however,
this difference noticeable in the work of the two
men. Brahm's productions were distinguished by
a most delicate intellectual refinement. Everybody
was in tune. Reinhardt is not so delicate. He
also seeks to orchestrate his instruments. But
the instruments are sometimes of unequal value.
Brahm sought to kill off the one-part actor. Rein-
hardt goes further. He has produced the actor
of forty or fifty different parts. It may be men-
tioned that the ensemble is now growing hoary-
headed in Germany. It came there to roost when
the star-system of England was in its swaddling
clothes. We know that only in recent years it has
made its appearance in England, where it is begin-
ning to exhibit the extravagances of a dying system.
For one thing, it is seen that the intellectual en-
semble does not allow players to project their
imagination into the characters, but compels them
to work to a rigid pattern set by the producer.
For another, it is opening the door on abuse by
encouraging authors to sketch out their plays in
soulless talk, leaving them to be filled in by acting.
Efficient acting is in fact giving rise to a glut of
bloodless dialogue.

Intimacy

Reinhardt was no doubt influenced in his idea
of intimacy by Goethe, who, with other critics,
sought to attain a naturalistic rapprochement between

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70 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

actor and audience. He began to develop it at
the " Brille " and the "Schall und Rauch." The
Ueberbretti cult (and " Brille") was initiated by the
German troubadour. Baron Ernst von Wolzogen.
The movement was associated with the well-
known lyricist O. J, Bierbaum. For a few years
it enjoyed extraordinary popularity ; it spread
rapidly throughout Europe, and variety halls or
combined music halls and Montmartre cabarets
sprang up everywhere. In serving the purpose of
bringing poets, actors, painters, and all sorts and
conditions of men together, they were studio
intimate theatres in the true sense. These places
provided an entertainment which caught everybody
simultaneously, and everybody responded simultane-
ously. There was no exalting of psychology. The
floodgates of feeling were opened, and everybody
was engulfed. The following description of the
inauguration of the " Schall und Rauch " illustrates
how intimacy was quickened by the kind of enter-
tainment provided. Under the name of " Schall
und Rauch " the members of the Cafe-theatre
Society removed their nightly meetings to the
Kiinstlerhaus in the Bellevuestrasse. Here they
invited guests, to whom they offered, between mid-
night and dawn, their triple bill : music, colour,
and motion. In the year 1901 they were led to
give up the intimate evenings at the Kiinstlerhaus,
and to transfer them elsewhere. They rebuilt for
their purpose a hall in a hotel in Unter den
Linden. This hall they hung with drapery and
decorated with grinning Bocldin masks. Having
commissioned Orlik to design a poster, they began>

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 71

their " Schall und Rauch " performances in public,
in spite of being warned " not to waste an abun-
dance of good ideas having harmony and style
upon an audience of snobs."

On the first night (9th October 1901) the
audience was received by attendants dressed in
white pierrot costumes with black pom-poms.
After a prologue written by Kayssler there came
cabaret songs, caricatures of the products of culture
and civilisation, and grotesque dances, followed
by a satirical dream-poem by Max Reinhardt, in
which the horrors of the Brettkiters HoUenfahrt
(the cabaret manager's descent to hell) were de-
scribed. Thus the entertainment rushed forward
at high speed and in high spirits. Here the some-
what crudely applied principle revealed is, that
intimacy resides in high-spirited, not in low-
spirited drama.

Realism

When I visited Moscow in the autumn of 191 1,
I had an opportunity of learning a great deal about
the aims, methods, and influence of the Moscow
Art Theatre. I was received by M. Stanislawsky,
the distinguished director, and by him handed over
to the secretary, M. Michael Lykiardopoulas, who,
in turn, introduced me to the working members of
the theatre organisation, and also gave me some
essential facts and figures. From him I gathered that
there had been a logical development of the theatre,
from its smallest beginnings as an amateur society
to its present dimensions as a financial undertaking
dearmg over j^ 1 0,000 profit yearly. One o£ the

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72 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

facts that he sought to impress upon me was that
for some years the Moscow Art Theatre has been,
and now is, exercising a strong influence on the
European theatre and drama. I received this piece
of information with a smile, knowing that he had
been understudying Mr Gordon Craig. Statements
of this kind are certainly as numerous in Europe
as the oft-mentioned flies round the sugar bowl.
From Paris, Berlin, Munich, Buda-Pesth, Cracow,
and elsewhere the claims to discoveries, initia-
tions, and innovations in the theatre are unend-
ing. But in most cases such discoveries prove to
be nothing more than remarkable coincidences
and correspondences. Ideas are let loose ; we
are unable to say whence they come, and they are
received in various quarters by individuals specially
equipped for the purpose. It would be interest-
ing to know how much the Moscow Theatre
owes to the Theatre of Wyspianski, and to hear
what is the forcible influence which Mr John
Balance, writing in the Mask^ suggests that Mr
Gordon Craig has exerted over the M oscovian
management. In going through my notes on
the stages of the development of the Moscow
Theatre, I find these stages correspond to some
of those of Max Reinhardt's career. There is
the initial stage of the founding of a society by
art and literary enthusiasts, answering to the Freie
Btihne. There is the " Ueberbrettl " and literary
movement, which spread to Russia, disseminating
the idea of intimacy. There is the founding
of a small theatre, the Moscow Kleines Theater.
There are public and press prejudices to overcome.

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£1

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 73

There is a passing from naturalism to artistic
naturalism, to realism and ultra-realism, thence
to artistic synthesis, symholism, and now to
ultra-symbolism. From this it looks indeed as
though Max Reinhardt, and the various move-
ments in which he has been caught up, have been
in Moscow the whole time.

But, as I pointed out to Mr M. Lykiardopoulas,
I had found there are more original art theatres
in Europe than are dreamt of at the Moscow Art
Theatre, and it is quite possible that these have
evolved their own system of literary and artistic
organisation without a great deal of outside aid.
At the same time, it may be admitted that some
outside influence has affected their originality. It
may be possible that Max Reinhardt is indebted to
the Moscow Art Theatre in small ways. When
that theatre toured through Europe in 1896, it
appears to have created a sensation by its realistic
methods of representing and interpreting certain
Russian plays. In particular, the extreme emphasis
placed upon the minutely worked out details of
characterisation in everyday plays of the Gorky
class was followed with close attention, while the
absolute reaUsm of the scene must have produced
delirium in those who admire house-to-house
duplication. In fact, the absolute realism of the
Moscow Art Theatre, which culminated in the
jf 15,000 production of Julius Casar — a production
that sent the theatre staff to Rome for local colour,
and brought down real rain, called forth real wind,
especiaUy from the local press, and gave employ-
ment to a host of persons who are accustomed to

I. ■. iM,Coo<;k

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

copy stage costumes with R.A.-like fidelity — this
sort of realism, no doubt, greatly impressed the
open-mouthed public. It may have impressed
Max Reinhardt. But, in point of fact, it was
not till some time afterwards that he broke with
naturalism, and gave a realistic representation of
The Lower Depths, wherein Vallentin's principles
estabUshed themselves. It is possible, too, that
some of the details of the organisation of the
Moscow Theatre reached Berlin. But there is no
evidence to prove this. Again, it may be thought
that the idea of the revolving stage came from
Moscow. But Lautenschlager of Munich was the
first to construct such a stage in Europe, and we
know there were revolving stages in Japan long
before Lautenschlager's time. All things con-
sidered, it is doubtful how much realism Max
Reinhardt derived from Moscow ; it is clear, how-
ever, that he derived a great deal from Wagner
and the Saxe-Meiningen company. Indeed, as we
shall see, Reinhardt was largely concerned in
carrying on the improvement in the artistic
technical and economic condition of the German
stage — an improvement due, on the one hand, to
the reforms introduced by the Duke of Meiningen
in the Court Theatre at Meiningen, and, on the
other hand, to the ideals realised at Bayreuth by
Richard Wagner.

Artistic Influences

The artistic influence exerted upon the German '
stage by the company of actors in the service and
under the direction of Duke George of Sax&< J

, ni,:ii.,-iM,C00<;le

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INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 75

Meiningen, at the Meiningen Theatre, was at its
height between 1874 and 1890. The company
created a great effect by its performances through-
out Europe, contributing to the German stage
improvements in crowd effects, speech, scenery
and decoration, and above all attaining an extra-
ordinary perfection of ensemble. The Meiningen
Theatre was, and still is, a Court Theatre, and
belongs to the reigning Grand Duke of Saxe-
Meiningen, now in his eighty-fifth year. It stands
in a town of 10,000 inhabitants. Franz von
Dingclsiedt, the director at Weimar, and con-
temporary of Duke George, also promoted the
scenic reform. It was Dingelstedt who first pro-
duced Shakespeare's historical plays upon the
German stage. He startled the Weimarians by
producing these plays in an unbroken cycle on seven
consecutive nights. At the time of the said scenic
reform the German " scene " was in a very primi-
tive condition. Representation was, in fact, at
such a low pitch, and speech so bad, that an
audience with the best imagination in the world
could make nothing of the caricatures that haunted
them hke nightmares. Under the intelligent
direction of the Grand Duke of Saxe-Meiningen
this wretched state of affairs was altered. The
Meiningen company began to reform the scene
and the culture stage. Influenced by Charles Kean,
it introduced to Germany the ideas of his revivals.
Carefully organised by the Grand Duke, it sought
to obtain effects by minute realism, and aimed to
make the " scene " and everything in it a repro-
duction of historical correctness. The scenic MtisX,

iM,Coot;lc

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

the costumier, and the actor were faithful repro- I
ducers of detail. In the opinion of some authorities
the Meiningen company derived many principles
from Charles Kean, who was occupied with the
archeology of play-producing. " The Shake-
spearean productions at the Princess's under Charles
Kean's management were," as Miss Ellen Terry tells
us, " the real beginning of a serious attempt to clear
the air of anachronisms. Charles Kean had had a
classical education, and he could not share the
complacency of most actors at the sight of antique
Romans in knee-breeches, and other inaccuracies
in dress and architecture. Planche, to this day
considered the best general authority on historical
dress, was his right-hand man. I made my first
appearance as Mamillius in the middle of an out-
burst of care and erudition, of which it would be
absurd to deny the importance, because the actresses
of the time still loved their crinolines so much that
they would not discard them when they put on
their Greek dresses." The view that Kean preceded
the Meiningen company in archseological reform
is held by Dr Ernst L. Stahl, and is developed
by him in a book Das engluche Theater im neun-
zehnten Jahrhundert^ published by R. Oldenburg
of Munich. We must not forget that Kean had
reason for his reform. In his day there was a
decline in passion and eloquence. He himself had
no voice to speak of, and has been marked off accord-
ingly. His example has been followed by managers
who have substituted scenery to conceal defects of
speech and action. Whether Kean did or did not
greatly influence George II. of Meiningen, the re- J

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INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 77

forms undertaken by the latter were conscientiously
carried out. He thoroughly organised and managed
his own famous theatre ; he gathered together a
really first-class troupe of players ; he directed the
productions and he designed the costumes and
scenery ; he brought the acting more into harmony
with the scenery ; in fact, he had a true appre-
hension of scenic and acting ensemble, as well as
the ability to do everything himself. In addition
to the reform of the scene, the Melningers gained a
great reputation for their reform of speech and the
stage-crowd. In these two particulars at least
they exerted a great influence over the European
Theatre. Grand Duke George was one of the
modern Old Masters who, like the famous actors
IfHand and Schroder, introduced a more natural
method of speaking, just as Macklin, Talma, and
Phelps did in their turn. The Meiningers really
formed a company of speakers. Every member
was an artist in this respect. The dialogue of the
drama was spoken by each so that it could be
beard and understood. How different it is in
England to-day ! Here the theatres represent so
many voice tombs where the players come to bury
the noises which they make in their throats, within
the unholy precincts of the stage itself, what time
the spectator sits watching with an indescribable
air of foolish melancholy. Irving set the fashion
of barking at the spectator, and we find this raw
material of the Hyde Park school of elocution recast
and subtilised in the speech of our distinguished
players. There are but one or two leading players
who do not belong to the voiceless band, among

DigHi..dbyG00ale j

78 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

whom may be mentioned Arthur Bourchier, Forbes
Robertson, D. Lyn Harding, and Lewis Waller.
But it was in the handling of stage-crowds that
Duke George was pre-eminent. He appears to
have understood the composition of the crowd and
to have solved one at least of the problems arising
therefrom. The two main problems of the stage-
crowd lie in the manner of bringing the crowd on
the stage and taking it off again, and the manage-
ment of it while it is on. Again, there are two
forms of stage -crowd — the crowd in the mass, or
classical crowd, and the crowd composed of indivi-
duals or Individualistic crowd. Like Wyspianski,
Duke George was occupied with the classic crowd.
His crowd indeed formed a Greek chorus. It had
a mental unity and spoke and acted as one person.
Such a crowd answers to the psychological crowd,
whose striking peculiarity is described by Le Bon.
Whoever be the individuals that compose it, however
like or unlike be their mode of life, their occupa-
tior)S, their character, or their intelligence, the fact
that they have been transformed into a crowd puts
them in possession of a sort of collective mind
which makes them feel, think, and act in a manner
quite different from that in which each individual
of them would feel, think, and act were he in a
state of isolation. There are certain ideas and
feelings which do not come into being, or do not
transform themselves into acts except in the case
of individuals forming a crowd. The psychological
crowd is a provincial being formed of heterogeneous
elements, which for a moment are combined,
exactly as the cells which constitute a living body

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INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT

form by their reunion a new being which displays
characteristics very different from those possessed
by each of the cells singly. It was this organised
or collective crowd representing " a creature acting
by instinct" that Shakespeare had in mind when
he wrote the Forum Scene of Julius Casar, and
the attempt to compose the Forum Scene crowd in
detail instead of in mass is utterly wrong. Duke
George must have been of this opinion, for he
rendered unto Shakespeare that which is Shake-
speare's. For the Forum Scene he formed a
classical chorus, composed of intelligent supers, and
thus obtained the best general effects. In so doing
he went far beyond the London manager, who
composes his crowd of half-baked walkers-on, who
slouch on and off the stage and throw everything
out of gear.

The Meiningen company travelled about Ger-
many and England, creating a tradition. In due
course it came to London, and gave that city a
taste of the finest example of a stage-crowd.
Julius Casar, its greatest success, was staged at
Drury Lane, transforming this theatre for the
lime being into a source of inspiration. But it is
curious to note that though, as Miss Ellen Terry tells
us, " from that moment there was reform amount-
ing to revolution," it was the Meiningen company
that exerted the influence and not Kean. Appar-
ently Kean, " who had admirable stage-crowds,"
did not go beyond or as far as the German com-
pany. He merely gave a new life to classical and
historical correctness and a fresh impulse to the
iDodern " immoral " pruning of Shakespeare. Miss

DigHi..xil.yG0.Qglei

8o THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Terry is of the opinion that "the standard imposed
upon us by the Meiningen company has not been
maintained of late years." The classical standard
has not been maintained at all. Though Max
Reinhardt learnt a great deal from the Meiningers'
methods of handling a crowd, he also followed its
fresh courage in breaking away from tradition,
Finding that of the Meiningers growing out of
date, he broke away from it. Reinhardt then
turned his attention to the so-called naturalistic
and realistic methods of modern crowd manage-
ment, the aim of which is to get " voices." Thus
a voice starts at one point, is followed by another
in an opposite direction, and this in turn
followed by others, and so the cackle spreads like
an infection. The individualisation of crowds
no doubt legitimate and logical up to a certain
point. Though there are psychological, organised
crowds, possessed by one dominating idea, there
are also crowds which are divided on the main
issue. Such are, for instance, electoral crowds.
The members of these do not act collectively,
but indulge in individual cries, to say nothing of
the face-scratching of rivals. The distinction
among crowds is either not understood or not
sufficiently applied, with the result that there is a
tendency to travesty the individualisation of the
super. Mr Louis Calvert is very successful with
his individualised crowds, his best result being that
attained in the Julius Ca:sar crowd scene which he
produced a few years ago for Sir Herbert Tree.
Mr Granville Barker's crowds are effective but
blurred by exaggeration. His crowd in Votes for

DigHi..>dl.yG0Q;

Women had an essential political atmosphere ; but
both the crowd in Strife and that of the Forum
Scene, one of the items given at the coronation
performance at His Majesty's Theatre, were dismal
failures. The first was lacking in a proper con-
ception of the behaviour of a working-class crowd
moved by an issue in the hands of different
*• leaders." The second was a ludicrous attempt
to edit Shakespeare. Mr Barker practically re-
wrote the Forum Scene. The parts were handed
to the individuals of a crowd composed of all
the leading Hghts of the London Stage. The
learning and rehearsing of these parts put such
a limit to the good nature of the individualised
" supers," that towards the conclusion of the
rehearsals they forgot to love and respect Mr
Barker. Chaos flew down from the prehistoric
flics, and Sir Herbert Tree took the conductor's
chair.

Stylisation and Synthesis or Unity

As I have pointed out. Max Reinhardt was
bom in Austria, where a powerful artistic de-
velopment has been going on for some years.
Government art schools for the enlightenment of
the classes, and the art movement in the theatre
have done much to produce in individuals a great
accessibility to artistic ideas. It is possible that
Max Reinhardt owes much to this renaissance
both in and out of the theatre, and in subsequent
years it largely helped him to feel the full force of
the various currents of the artistic pressure and to ap-
preciate their value. It is not surprising, therefore,

h. 1. ii,Cooqlc

8a THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

I
I

that style, or stylisation, as it is called, should make a
successful appeal to him. It first manifested itself
in his attempt to obtain coherence and uniformity,
and it had characteristics similar to those which
M. Meierholdt gave to it. M. Meierholdt, who
was manager of Madame Kommisarzhevsky's artistic
St Petersburg theatre, interpreted the meaning of
the term as follows : " I consider it is impossible
to separate the ideas of ' stylisation ' from the ideas
of generalisation, convention, and symbolism. By
the ' stylisation ' of a period or a phenomenon,
I mean the use of all means that bring out the
inner synthesis of the period or phenomenon, and
that enable the latent characteristics of artistic
works to be clearly presented." Simply stated,
this is a demand for the representation of the soul
of the drama by every means available. The
secretary of the Moscow Art Theatre told me that
this theatre was the first to realise the element of
stylisation. The Moscow Theatre discovered it in
TchekofTs Seagull. It consists, he said, In a subtle
mood which cannot be transmitted by any medium,
say acting, alone, but requires a unity of every
means employed on the stage — and everybody,
from leading man to " limes." Apparently, how-
ever, Meierholdt was first with the idea that the
drama is to be represented and interpreted in a
" spiritual theatre " by means of an outer synthesis
expressing an inner synthesis. Such an end
Wagner had in view when he sought to transport
himself and the spectator into the enraptured
world of imagination of the Nibelungen, and the re-
ligious world of Parsifal. To Wagner the operas

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 83

of his time were unreal, presented in detached
pieces, instead of in big, simple masses. There was
no attempt made to preserve the spirit or mood
which the poet-musician had created. So he set
to work to change all this, and establish a new
tradition. According to this tradition, music-
drama was to be produced in a new style having
unity and coherence. We know what that style
was, and many of us know how antiquated it
is to-day. But when Wagner first made known
the theory of his synthesis of music, chant,
and colour, it came as a revelation to most men.
Here was a means indeed of realising the secrets
of the spiritual world. Here was a way to express
the subtlest nuances of the poetry of life. When
chant failed there was music ; when music failed
there was decoration to carry on the action. Or
so it seemed. Gradually, however, reformers
began to detect a serious flaw in the " Master's "
scheme. It was found he had invented not a
unified design, but a threefold one, composed of
music, chant, and decoration running simultaneously.
Then the complaint arose : " This is wrong ;
you cannot hear the chant for the music, and
you cannot enjoy academic scenery while the music
and chant are going on. None the less, the Wagner
synthesis has invaded and held the stage till to-day.
The sins of the poet of the Nibelungen are still re-
peated, and even Max Reinhardt repeats the fallacy
of the Wagnerian threefold motive. He gives us
music, song, speech, acting, dance, and decoration,
repeating instead of expanding and supplementing
each other. All that Reinhardt received from

^ o,...,Goosl.ej

84 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Wagner he has retained, except one particular. He
has quietly buried Wagner's ultra-realism derived I
from the Meiningers — his scenic aids and atrocious
circus effects— in the dustheap. He prefers Bbcklin
to Briickner. Now the Festspielhaus orchestral
flashes of lightning wedded to the magnesium
flashes are to be found at His Majesty's Theatre,
London.

The Impressionistic Scene
Max Reinhardt's period of seeking and earnest
effort led him in time to the reform of the scene.
The Meiningen company called upon the scenic
artist for interesting colour photography. Wagner's
scene-painter belonged to the German Royal
Academy, while his animated properties came out
of the Ark. Reinhardt has gone beyond this in
his search for a simplified scene. He was the
first to call to the service of the scene the aid of
distinguished plastic artists and painters, selecting
with judgment those who are specially gifted for the
work : such as Arnold Bocklin, with his wonderful
sense of atmospheric form ; Emil Orlick, with his
love of Japanese form and colour ; Edward Munch,
the Ibsen of Norwegian painters ; Ernst Stern,
with his mastery of bold colour. That painting
could legitimately be called in to serve the scene is
clear when we remember that the modern move-
ment in painting is largely decorative. I use the
word decorative in its old sense : that is, of decoration
being an accretion. In the new sense it is not
decoration, seeing that what we call decoration is
something which is an essential part of character and J

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 85

which is added merely to give the widest expression
to that character. Reformers of the scene have
recognised the value of the decorative movement
in painting and have encouraged painters to serve
the theatre. Thus the application of the principles
of Neo-Expressionism was made both at the
Theatre des Arts under the direction of M. Jacques
Rouche and by the decorators of the Russian Ballets
during their seasons in Paris and London, 1910-
12. By the intelligent use of line and colour,
the scene designed by the latter attained two
qualities : unity and continuity. Costumes and
scenery were designed to harmonise, and costumes
were designed to harmonise with each other. The
scene thus treated had a basis of fantasy, and all the
hues and colours helped to build up and maintain
the sensation of the fantasy. But the great aim
of these decorators was to create the dynamic scene,
in which everything is presented to the spectator
as a moving whole and having one big effect. So,
the scene became an outward synthesis of the
inner synthesis of the soul of the dancers. These
principles are not yet understood in England. Till
they are we shall not rise above the scenic con-
ceptions of the studio artist. Mr Charles Ricketts
has treated Wilde's Sa/ome, Don Juan, and King
Leaty in the latter calling forth Mr Craig's wrath.
Mr Cayley Robinson and Mr Sime have made
designs for The Blue BirJ^ and Mr Norman Wilkin-
son, armed with designs, has followed Mr Granville
Barker from theatre to theatre. But these painters
have asked us to accept pictorial work which,
chough admirable in some respects, is incomplete

iM,Coc>

-THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

SB afcJ i ge decoration. With regard to Reinhardi
I befievc that he has helped himself to the
P ^rl p rions of mass-impressionism which the Berlin^
,p,rl Munich Secessionists have been creating. By
ll^a,^ EDcans he has given the scene a "feeling"
^M j_ instead of a " thinking " part in the play, and
^^^Jylcd it to contribute to the general effect or
jf iWi arinn in mass and not in w^earisome detail
^^^^ he has come nearest to the newer unity ii
r of stage-setting.

Symbolic Staging

Scylisation is a keynote of symbolic staging.

credit of initiating this form of staging in

GexVtto progressive theatres has been given

4tao**ifr. ^ think, to Jocza Savits, who several

— ^BfS »go invented and used a new Shakespearean

^fftgt »t the Court Theatre, Munich. Herr Savits'

^pOftVi Om the Aim of the Drama, reveals indeed that he

^p^ not so much occupied (if at all) with symbolic

^y ginp as with simplified staging. He would do

A«my *ith scenery altogether. As Mr Archer

^MS ia his contribution to the symposium on the

pumirbr" Theater : " Herr Savits has written a

^HV solid and very thoughtful treatise, which is

^gtting but a systematic attack upon the whole

MMfCtj^ and practice of caUing in painting to the

j^Mintton or decoration of drama. Herr Savits

rilh a special view to Shakespeare, and

pctformances on the so-called Shakespeare-

\ io Munich ; but if I understand him aright,

t^COBdidcrs scenery the bane of all drama whar

L lAd would not have the ear and mind

i^A.

byGOO'

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 87

tracted by any sort of appeal to the eye." Mr
Archer then proceeds to examine Herr Savits'
theory of non-stop Shakespeare, and puts in a plea
for the act-interval. Having condemned the
English practice of using this interval " to cumber
the stage with ostentatious scenery," he comments
on Max Reinhardt's employment of symbolic stag-
ing. Let me quote his words : " I have seen only
one of Herr Max Reinhardt's Shakespearean revivals
at the Deutsches Theater, Berlin ; but that struck
me as a model of good taste in mounting. The
play was The Winter's Tale. Almost all the scenes
in Sicily were played in a perfectly simple yet
impressive decoration — a mere suggestion, without
any disturbing detail, of a lofty hall in the palace
of Leontes. For the pastoral act in Bohemia, on
the other hand, a delightful scene was designed, for
all the world like a page from a child's picture
book. The grass was bright green velvet, spangled
with conventional flowers. A blossoming fruit-
tree shadowed a toy-cottage ; and in the back-
ground some quaint masts and pennons showed
the proximity of the sea. The whole effect was
charmingly fantastic and admirably in keeping with
the action of the scene." Following Mr William
Poel's example, Herr Savits did Shakespeare in
curtains only. Reinhardt, besides doing Shake-
speare in curtains, added symbolic " decoration,"
while maintaining the simplicity of the " curtain "
method. His vision of The Winter's Tale was that
of a child, and he used such natural symbols to
express natural objects, the masts and pennons
suggesting ships and the sea, as a child would

I. ■■. ih,Coo<;lc

n THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

choose. I do not say this to depreciate Max
Reiniiardt's ability as a producer. On the con-
trary, I think that it testifies to his insight into the
6rst demand of the spectator, namely, that there
shall be a simple and intimate approach to the soul
ol the play.

It is more correct, then, to credit Reinhardt with
being a pioneer of the modern form of symbolic
staging, the old form of which really dates back for
BHUiv centuries. This staging movement has spread
IB Germany, and to-day there are many theatres aim-
ing to abohsh the realistic representation of drama,
coasisung of a hair-to-hair fidelity to materialistic
iiMail&> Thus the very progressive theatre at
Dftssddorf, under the management of Louise
Dttinont and G. Lindemann, have replaced the
imli'Tir frame by the symbolic setting or frame
^Htgncd to emphasise the rhythmic mood of the
pitce by broad outlines and symbolically applied
KtWt o.^our, light, and shade. During my visit
|i> Piisseldorf, I visited the Dumont- Lindemann
iSc^uspielhaus and found it had several interest-
■ innovations designed to preserve the artistic
Mon throughout. One is the disappearance

^tbe hack cloth and the substitution for this
tftibciftl and stupid background of a more obvious
au>rc useful decoration, namely, the white-
wall. I failed to notice whether this
^^v^^cs ponds to the round horizon in use
bw IVulschcs Theater, Berlin. By the use
^ thU wuU the silhouettes of the people are
^«i«« more clearly than is the case before the
fMiWtit^ ^mnorima of lawn and country scenes

i>,CoogIc

to which we are accustomed. In fact, it adds
to the importance of the characters. Again, it is
claimed that many effects can be got from behind
this wall that are not possible behind the ordinary
painted cloth. Another innovation is the attempt
to focus attention on the centre of the stage, not,
of course, after the manner of the English actor-
manager, who takes the centre of the stage and
never leaves it, but in a much more artistic
way. The management believes that the supreme
point of the stage is the centre. This is the point
from which movement should radiate, and also the
point of visual attraction, and all decorations are
made accordingly to lead to this point. In conse-
quence, everything is given a direction of line leading
to this one point of view. All lines, in fact, converge
on the centre. By this means a feeling of immensity
is created which is entirely lacking in the common
or garden scene. But what struck me most about
the Diisseldorf Schauspielhaus was the attitude of
the audience. One of the pieces I saw was Ibsen's
Hedda Gabler^ the artistic interpretation and the
ensemble acting of which was only equalled by that
of the Lessing Theater Company under Brahm.
Throughout the performance the audience sat silent
and still. There was no applause, no demand for
curtains, no rush for refreshments. Though there
was no music between the acts, there was no idiot
gabble of the Stage Society sort which recently called
forth a strong protest from a suffering member.
Beyond this, there were no attendants buzzing
about the auditorium with doubtful liquid refresh-
ments and sealed sixpenny programmes. The pro-

K '■ ■■n.Coo<;lc

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

gramme made its appearance not in the unlovely
guise of an advertising tout, but in an artistic get-
up, and accompanied by a readable literary sheet,
Masken. It should be mentioned that the silent
audience, the no-music entr'acte, and the no-call
system, are not confined to Diisseldorf. They
are to be found at Moscow also. I believe the
object of the Diisseldorf Theatre management in
introducing these three reforms was in pursuit
of its idea that the theatre should be a place of
meditation, where that portion of the theatre-going
pubUc who have the time and inclination for
meditation might go instead of going to church.
This is one of the many attempts towards making
the theatre serve the purpose of the church in the
matter of mental rest and enlightenment.

Gordon Craig's Symbolism

Of recent months we have heard a great deal
about Mr Gordon Craig's influence on the artistic
development of the German Theatre, and more
especially on the work of Max Reinhardt. Mr
Craig and his enthusiastic band of followers who
contribute their opinions to that live journal. The
Mask, contend that the influence exerted by Mr
Craig has been considerable and not always
Ijctnowlcdgcd. In fact, they support the usual
of plagiarism. To deny a charge of
tartsm would require a philosopher with a
of an antique cast, and I am not going to
ittnnpt it. I can only repeat that " divinely "
uoointcd minds have the bad habit of "lifting"
13)^ Other's goods, and, as we shall see, Mr Craig

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 91

himself, being " divinely " endowed, has fallen into
the same class with Coleridge, whom De Quincey
accused of stealing Pythagoras' wretched dogma
about beans. Perhaps the charge against Rein-
hardc is not altogether just ; for, as facts can show,
there is very little resemblance between his work
and Mr Craig's, and there have been acknowledg-
ments. In Germany it is generally admitted that
Mr Craig's influence in the theatre has been felt.
There are persons in Germany who would, no
doubt, seriously consider the implication con-
tained in the following note to a design for
Hamlet published in his On the Art of tfie Theatre.
Says Mr Craig: "It was this design which I
carried over to Germany in 1904, when I first
went to Weimar at the invitation of Count
Kcssler, one of the men who have done most for
the German Theatre. If we had even one such
enthusiast of like culture and practical energy in
England, the theatre would be in a more living
condition than it is to-day. This design seems to
have given pleasure to my few German friends —
and I remember that their pleasure gave me more.
I am not particularly fond of German art, except
for its early music, but I am never forgetful of
German enthusiasm and of the titanic energy dis-
played from one end of the land to the other. And
nowhere was there more promise in all Germany
than in Weimar in 1904, when Count Kesslcr
lent himself to the task of guiding the taste of the
people who were eager to follow him. In fact,
the success of Professor Reinhardt in Berlin is in
a large measure due to the influence and enthusiasm.

I. ■. ii>,Coo<;lc

92 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

of Count Kesslcr." The implication underlying
this note is that Count Kessler did much to pro-
mote ideas, one at least of which Craig now
admits to be out of date. For has not Craig
told us that he has discarded the setting (with
which he set Count Kessler in action), consist-
ing of a set of curtains suspended from a great
height with a narrow opening between, through
which the moon peered, at a vast interior, in
favour of a great grey screen for receiving light,
against which the coloured limelights may move
beautifully. A further implication is that Count
Kessler pushed Max Reinhardt on. But this is
extremely doubtful. I am more inclined to think
that Reinhardt is made of the stuff that docs its
own pushing.

There was a great deal of artistic work going
on in the German Theatre before Mr Craig arrived.
As early as 1830 Goethe had conversations with
Eckermann about the art of the theatre. Though
Germans are ready to admit that there are some
traces of Mr Craig in Reinhardt's production of
The Winter s Tale, there can scarcely be any in
Pelleas and Melhande, seeing that this piece was
produced long before Mr Craig's aforementioned
visit. As far as I remember, Brahm was the first
German manager who tried to apply Mr Craig's
ideas, but without success. The only two sets of
scenery designed by Mr Craig himself for the
German Theatre were done for Brahm, one of
them being for Venice Preserved, by Otway, a
piece adapted for the German stage under the title
of Das Gerettete Vettedig, by Hofmannsthal ; the

I. ■, iiwCoogIc J

other being the scenery for he Mirage^ by Georges
Rodenbach. Both plays were failures, and there-
fore but few details of Craig's artistic methods and
still fewer of his designs are likely to have in-
fluenced the German style. Indeed, his influence
docs not appear to have gone beyond the use of
curtains, experiments in lighting, and inviting the
artist to aid the producer. Of course this is a
great deal, and may be the root of a very wide-
spread reform.

It is also true that his Hamlet has been pro-
duced at Moscow and the production has set new
ideas running round the universe. But Mr Craig
had something to be thankful for. Had M.
Stanislawsky and his co-operators been in a hurry
and not able to devote three years to the work
of the production, had he been an Irishman or a
Turk, or someone with less patience, Mr Craig
and his ideas might have still been waiting to be
brought to earth.

Having indicated to what extent Mr Gordon
Craig has influenced Reinhardt and the German
Theatre, it may be of interest to note the char-
acter of Mr Craig's ideas, together with the
sources of their inspiration. Mr Craig is a
decorator of genius in search of light. The light
is, of course, limelight disguised as daylight. For
years he has concentrated on the problem of stage-
lighting, and the nearer he gets to a working solu-
tion apparently, the farther away he gets. It is
for the light of the infinite he hungers, and he
searches eagerly for the incandescent lamp that
shall bear him towards it. Let there be daylight [

I i. ■. ih,Coo<;lc

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

cries Mr Craig. And the pitying angels hear and
weep ; for they know that the light which Mr
Craig demands for the theatre will never be forth-
coming, — unless indeed the theatre be born
again as Mr Craig insists it shall be. Then Mr
Craig asks for suggestion, not representation. To
him suggestion is the only open door to the
soul's liberation on the stage. Representation is
more of a photographer's and less of an artist's
ideal. He wants simplicity, but it is doubtful
whether he has not confused simplicity with elimi-
nation. Elimination is the taking out of details or
uncssentials ; simplicity is seeing and putting down
only the essentials. In the composition of his
big, lonely, and sombre settings he eliminates the
human interest. Man is made to appear impotent,
feeble, a microbe. His mentality and vitality
are eliminated. In fact, Mr Gordon Craig's stage
is so much space for a design, whereas it should be
so much space for the expansion of the mentality
of man. It would be unfair to deny that there is
something tremendously big in Mr Craig's settings.
They are very arresting in their way, usually big
in conception, though monotonous in treatment.
He has an idea of getting a light here and
there against masses of black or shadow. He
searches for movement and gets it so far as
stage mechanics will allow. He tries for mystery
and gets mistiness. His " scene " is in conse-
quence all mist and vague atmosphere. He is
searching for a scene " with as many moods as the
901." It sounds, coming from Mr Craig, indefinite.
IRtinhardt is far more tangible. He believes in ■

ni,:iiP,-iM,G00slc I

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 95

massivcness, scenes carved out of solid blocks, as by
sculptors. If he uses symbols, they are at least service-
able ones. Mr Craig makes for atmospheric unity
and gets style by the methods already described.
Among Mr Craig's many ideas must be mentioned
the famous Reckitt's blue background, which used
to follow him about like Mary's lamb in the fable,
and which he believed he had invented. Nature
could, however, supply him with an improved copy.
Perhaps it was Nature who obliged Max Reinhardt
with a copy, and, if so, there is no need to deny
it. We have all heard of Mr Craig's ideal stage-
director, whose function is apparently that of a
pattern-designer.

" He does not merely sit down and draw a pretty
or historically accurate design with enough doors
and windows in picturesque places, but he first of
all chooses certain colours which seem to him to
be in harmony with the spirit of the play, rejecting
other colours as out of tune. He then weaves
into a pattern certain objects — an arch, a founda-
tion, a balcony, a bed — using the chosen object as
the centre of his design. Then he adds to this all
the objects which are mentioned in the play, and
which are necessary to be seen. To those he adds,
one by one, each character which appears in the
play, and gradually each movement of each
character, and each costume." After pointing out
that the director-designer is liable to mistakes
and must not mind going back several times, the
passage continues : '* Slowly, harmoniously must
the whole design develop, so that the eye of the
beholder shall be satisfied. While this pattern

i D,g,t,..dbyGooQle

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

for the eye is being devised, the designer is being
guided as much by the sound of the verse or prose
as by the sense or spirit."

In this passage lies the keynote to Mr Craig's
old conception and method of production. In-
stead of the scene growing out of the fundamental
rhythm or note of the character or play, which slowly
expands till it fills the frame and carries us beyond the
theatre, the spirit of the play is to be matched with
certain harmonious colours and a design outlined,
into which every conceivable object is to be poured.
Coming to the theatre, we found Mr Craig at one
time busy with an entirely new form of playhouse,
of which we were offered a glimpse in words
which said ; " I see a great building to seat many
thousands of people. At one end rises a platform
of heroic size, on which figures of a heroic mould
shall move. Scenes shall be such as the world
shows us, not as our own particular little street
shows us. The movements on these scenes shall
be noble and great : all shall be illuminated by a
light such as the spheres give us, not such as the
footlights give us, but such as we dream of." The
new theatre is indeed Mr Craig's great dream.

He appears to think that we have already had
a theatre, for he is repeatedly saying, *' The
theatre must be destroyed." The truth is, how-
ever, that we have never had a theatre and there is
nothing to destroy. The institution I refer to else-
where as the existing theatre is practically a stage,
which I hope wiU develop into a theatre where
the Will of the Theatre may be fully exercised.
We have had stages, and we are still aspiring

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT

to a theatre by stages. This is Mr Craig's position.
He will go a stage further. But this will be
determined by his conception of a drama. At
present Mr Craig and his followers are not clear
concerning the materials for their new theatre.
Ask Mr Craig what he is after and he will tell you,
a new theatre, a new scene, a new kind of seven-
headed director, a new electrician. Ask him what
he is going to do with these materials, and he will
reply perversely, " Wait and see." His words mean,
*' I have invented a theatre, but have nothing to
put in it, that I can talk about." He believes that
in time something will come. But as his editor,
Mr John Semar, says, "You who are sympathetic
towards us must not assist this (aim) forward by
hastily rushing at our pupils and ourselves and
demanding what this new drama is going to be.
Nobody on earth can know till it is here,"

From this it will be gathered that till this un-
known and unheard-of drama arrives, Mr Craig must
go on performing something, that something being
Shakespeare. " Hamlet,^' Mr Craig tells us, " will
go on being performed for some time yet, and the
duty of the interpreters is to put their best work at
its service. . . . But the theatre must not for ever
rely upon having a play to perform, but must in
time perform pieces of its own art." I wonder
how Shakespeare likes being pasted in Mr Craig's
scrap-book. Evidently Mr Craig is convinced that
the drama must be born of the theatre. Some day
he will say that the only drama is the Cosmic
drama, and this is born outside the theatre, passes
through the theatre, and carries the spectator out

DigHP,-lM,GOOt;[C

98 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

of the theatre with it, reappearing in time in the
form of an enlarged Cosmic consciousness. Then
he will be nearer the truth of his words, " Why,
there are tremendous things to be done. We
haven't yet got near the thing. Uber-marionettcs
and wordless plays and actorless dramas are the
obvious steps to a far deeper mystery." In thus
banishing plays and actors and scenery from the
theatre, in specialising in masks and marionettes
and imaginative space, and asking for nothing more
than symbolic gesture, Mr Craig aims to reintro-
duce art to the theatre. He is the one man in
the world who is making art as accessible to the
theatre as possible, and who recognises that drama
is all a matter of impulse and movement.

The origins of Mr Craig's ideas are many and
varied. Mr Craig, like Reinhardt,isa sensitive. He
receives every moment artistic stimuli to which he
yields a certain number of responses. He assimi-
lates as he goes. He is a blend of art and theatre.
He was, in a sense, born in the theatre, and he lived
at Chelsea for several years. For a time he shared
rooms with Mr Martin Shaw, the musician, and
it would be interesting to know to what extent Mr
Shaw brought him into touch with the melody
and rhythm of the beautiful music of the old
English masters, Purcell, Byrd, and the rest,
" rhythm which is the very essence of dance."
Mr Martin Shaw, I remember, conducted the
music at the performance of Mr Laurence Hous-
man's nativity play, 'Bethlehem, at South Kensington,
and was very successful in bringing out the religious
Mr Craig's early impressions of theatre

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INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 99

reform were gained through his mother, Miss Ellen
Terry. Her engagements with Kean, who started
the archsological reform of the "scene," doubtless
helped Mr Craig to a feeling for archeology,
which, as time proceeded, changed its name to
Craigology. Miss Terry also had a great admira-
tion for E. W. Godwin the architect, who, like Kean,
was deeply interested in matters that are included in
the general term " archieology." Godwin designed
the scenery and dresses for plays in which Miss
Terry appeared. " The production of The Merchant
of Venice" she tells us, " at the old Prince of Wales',
ander the Bancroft management, in which I made
my first appearance as Portia, was in the hands
of Mr Godwin, and was, from many points of
view, the most beautiful production with which I
have ever been connected. It was all very stiff
and stately, very Italian, and it necessitated what I
may call a Renaissance interpretation of the play."
This was in 1875. Holding this high opinion of
Godwin's work (inspired by Greece and Flaxman),
Miss Terry would not fail to impress its importance
on Mr Craig. Godwin's scrupulous exactness, with
which Irving and Sir Herbert Tree became bitten,
may help to explain for us Craig's sense of thorough-
ness, certain architectonic qualities of his settings,
and the great part which Godwin has been playing
in Tlte Mask. According to Miss Terry, Godwin
laid down the principle " that if you don't have
everything right, it is better to have nothing right
— to have either realism in every detail or pure
fancy applies to the garden, the heath, and the wood,
wcU as the room." Mr Craig took the thorough-

^aswcU

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loo THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

ness into the region of pure fancy. In a highly
eulogistic " Note on the Work of E. W. Godwin,"
Mr John Semar places Godwin among the most
remarkable of the "great men" of the modern
theatre. He contends that Godwin " fathered the
new movement in the European Theatre, and
founded that race of theatrical artists of whom
the theatre of the future shall be born. The
services which he rendered by his earnestness,
his thoroughness, by the talents which he brought
to the assistance of the theatre, and the learning
which he devoted to its cause, were incalculable."
In pursuit of thoroughness " he searched in
museums and libraries." Godwin then was of the
learned type of mind. I was under the impres-
sion that the theatrical artists of the future were
to be creators. I hope I am not mistaken.
Probably Mr Semar means to imply that what is
considered theatrically artistic to-day will not be
considered so to-morrow. Like Ibsen, be may
have discovered that everything is liable to change,
and youthful truths to-day are hoary-headed lies
to-morrow. Nor is it different with naturalism.
Once upon a time Kean's acting was regarded as
fairly natural, then came Macready and gave the lie
to Kean's naturalism, then Irving appeared, and his
artificial stage-stalking took away the breath of the
naturalistic student, and then followed Mrs Patrick
Campbell, Eleonora Duse, Antoine, and others, to
put Irving's " naturalism " out of court. Ellen
Terry's long and close connection with Irving
opened up another source of inspiration to Mr
Craig. Irving's leadership and characteristics must

_D2.

"•Goasia,

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT roi

have exerted a tremendous formative influence upon
Mr Craig's ideas of the theatre. It accounts for
the exercise of big imagination in his work, for
his ideas of directorship, for his conception of a
synthesis of music, words, and colour, and for a
certain pictorial sense. Mr Craig was further
assisted in his conception of the new esthetic
synthesis by Wagner, and it is conceivable that he
derived something from Adolphe Appia's sugges-
tions for reforming the Wagnerian background by
means of carefully detailed and differentiated lighting
effects. The designs for these backgrounds were
published in 1899. Bbcklin too, who could make
nothing of Wagner, may have led him into the
region of pure fancy. Whether Irving afforded
Mr Craig an insight into the problem of stage-
lighting is not clear. It is possible that Mr Craig
accepted the problem in his own way. Or he
may have consulted da Vinci, who emphasised the
value of lighting figures from above, but over-
looked the fact that light is reflected from the
ground as well as from a thousand natural objects.
Mr Craig overlooked this question of reflection
when trying to do away with the footlights.
From da Vinci also came the idea of the all-
round man of Mr Craig's dreams. Then the
lighting system of Fortuny has been largely
advertised and offers suggestions to the modern
alchemists of stage-light. Then there are every-
day sources of inspiration. Mr George Calderon
suggests somewhere that Mr Craig has cribbed
his notion of overhead lighting from the barn-
■ theatre, where they hang stable-lanterns on hooks.

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102 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

A rather tantalising charge. Other circum-
stances which count for much in Mr Craig's
development are these. He lived at Chelsea,
where he would have every opportunity of coming
into contact with the artistic ideas which he has
applied to the theatre. Godwin the architect was
a friend of Whistler — Whistler married Godwin's
wife after Godwin's death, — also of Burgess, who
did the wonderful restoration work for the Marquis
of Bute, and he was intimately acquainted with
Burne-Jones and William Morris. It is not
difficult to understand that Mr Craig became at an
early period of his life fully acquainted with the
work and principles of these and other artists and
architects. It is certain that he was largely
fluenced by Whistler's Eastern Eestheticism, and
derived from that painter's Nocturnes, Moon-
lights, and Japanese subjects some useful qualities,
such as a conception of atmospheric treatment,
a feeling for the silver greys that Whistler dis-
covered haunting the Thames by Chelsea Bridge,
3 certain quality of monumental design, and a
unity of purpose. From the chapter on " Scene
and Movement " in On the Art of the Theatre^ where
Mr Craig discusses at some length a two-colour
scheme, and a rock and a cloud of mist, it may be
gathered what Whistler taught his unseen pupil,
and how near Mr Craig has got to the Whistlerian
manner and technique. Blake was another source of
inspiration. It would be interesting to know the
names of all the artists who have been influenced by
Blake. Look through his illustrations and there
spring forth memories of Watts, Burne-Jones,

iM,Coc>

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 103

Puvis de Chavannes, Cayley Robinson, the Pre-
raphaelites, Augustus John, the Post-expressionists
— every artist of note, in fact, who has had anything
to do with the imaginative, symbolic, and heroic.
Blake saw more in a thing than the thing itself,
and everything expanded under his hand. Thus
an ordinary scene touched by him would become
at once tremendously big in design. I have some-
times thought that if Blake lived to-day what fine
work he might do for the theatre. I do not think
he would do good interior work. But 1 should
like to see him do some simple, big exteriors. He
might even treat The Blue Bird, poor material
though it be, and if he did he would make it far more
impressive than it has been made as yet. Then

Blake and Hamlet ? I do not think Hamlet

has ever been treated as it will be one day, when
we get the Blake-like decorator with his vast yet
simple, child-like vision. Again, if he were alive
to-day, I am sure he would be the first to congratu-
late Mr Craig on having seen so much that is of
value in his (Blake's) own work. And he would
doubtless blame Mr Craig for having overlooked
the greatest thing — his big-minded space. Possibly,
too, Blake might appreciate the plain curtained
stages of Kerr Savits and William Poel and find a
correspondence in the curtain scenery of Mr Craig,
And if we were to point to Mr Craig's handling
of light and shade, and his use of black, Blake would
whisper, "That's Rembrandt for certain." Then
Mr Craig's vast doorways and arches and use of
low tones contain a strong reference to James
Prydc, in whose studio Mr Craig has worked.

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I04 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Then there is the screen idea, which to me
has a resemblance to the folding screens used by
the Tuscan players. Perhaps it has an ancestor in
that old dramatic screen, the " Sacre Rappresenta-
zioni " of Florence. Or it may have had an
ancestor in the Japanese screens and turn-tables
which once were so much in the air at Munich.
Or it may be the outcome of Mr Craig's imagina-
tion. We do not know. In any case, screens have
been on the carpet, as in The Mask, for many moons,
and maybe it is to The Mask we must turn for
certain facts on Mr Craig's more recent develop-
ment. Looking abroad, as far as Moscow, one
perceives another source of influence. The Russian
decorators, busy with the renaissance of the line,
have crossed Mr Craig's path and left their mark.
I happened one day to be in Bond Street, and, hav-
ing some time to spare, I went, in my capacity of
art and drama critic, to Messrs Colnaghi's gallery
to sample some studies by Gordon Craig. Among
these were two studies for Hamlet, noticeable for
their extraordinary resemblance to the Egyptian
figures designed by Bakst for his masterpiece,
Cliopdtre. Hamlet himself was conceived as an
Egyptian. The action of the limbs, the position
of the parts and the whole body, and the lines of
the drapery were distinctly Egyptian. But the
most remarkable coincidence was the strong develop-
ment of the line. It was the sharp, bold, moving
line of the Russian decorators. Clearly, Mr Craig
was re-interpreting Shakespeare as an Egyptian,
thought, " if this is to be the fundamental note
the production, then the whole production wD

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INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 105

be Egyptian." Previous to this I had seen the
Russian Ballets both in Paris and London. In one
of the productions, Petrouchka, I came across Mr
Craig's uber-marionette idea applied with a great
deal of intelligence by Nijinski. The latter played
the part of a puppet, and certainly succeeded in
expressing a wide range of emotions. M. Georges
Baioks, a penetrating artist and a great believer
in the future of Mr Craig's marionette idea, wrote
in Rhythm (now defunct) of Nijinski's per-
formance as follows : " I have never seen anything
which suggested sentiment, passion, and the inevit-
able sequence of things, produced by movement and
sound alone, without consciousness of the elimina-
tion of dialogue, as this production does. Conveyed
by puppets and visualised by the forms of the finest
human material in the theatre to-day, it suggests
to one that the idea of Mr Gordon Craig's uber-
marionette is not a dream but a possibility of great
meaning." But, then, Mr Craig says it is a dream,
and I am not going to contradict him on this
occasion. Moreover, puppets are as old as China
and Punch and Judy, and Petrouchka is based on
Russian folklore. So here is further evidence that
Mr Craig moves in a well-inhabited universe.

Mr Craig has been seriously experimenting for
years. But his achievement in comparison with
that of Max Reinhardt is, to say the least of it,
small. Miss Terry first helped Mr Craig into the
light of exclusive recognition, then the seventeenth-
century Purcell followed with his first opera, 'Dido
and JEmas^ and, I believe, The Masque oj Love.
,Then came Handel with his pastoral. Ace Gaiatea t

1
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THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Poltferno, or Ads and Galatea^ as it is called. Afterj
this followed Mr Housman with Bethlehem, a com-
pany of authors with Sword and Song, Ibsen with
the Vikings, and Shakespeare with Much Ado about
Nothing, a production remarkable for its church
scene. Duse accepted his decorative ideas for
Rosmersholtn and Ekctra. The latest to give Mr
Craig an artistic lift is M. Stanislawsky, whose three
years' struggle with Hamlet has now passed into
history. But it has not been " roses, roses all the
way." There were obstacles. In all probability
Mr Craig would not have had so much achievement
as the above to his account but for the loyalty of
his mother. She backed him freely with her money
and gave him the fullest opportunity to do his
best. In The Story of My Life she refers to the
fiasco at the Imperial Theatre, where she had her
"financially unfortunate season in 1903."

By the foregoing examination of sources of ideas^j
I do not seek to obscure Mr Craig's individual
value, which is, as already stated, an esthetic one.
Nor do I seek to diminish Mr Craig in order to
expand Max Reinhardt. There is no need to do so.
Though there are resemblances and differences, the
work of each man is distinct. Both are aids to
progress in the theatre. Both draw their inspiration
from personal sources. Gordon Craig is perhaps
a creative artist in a truer sense than is Mar
Reinhardt. Yet of four classes into which leaders
may be divided, precursors, initiators, continuators,
and re-initiators, I would unhesitatingly say that
Mr Craig belongs to the third. He is a continuator
of fine traditions^ which he treats with marked:

^ I. :■, ih,Coo<;lc J

originality. Culture, with which he is occupied,
is an entirely artificial product. The word culture
is derived from cultus, signifying the state of being
cultivated. Thus the seeds of culture may be in a
person, but the seeds by themselves are valueless.
They need cultivating by cultural aids. Look at
the effect the awaking of intellect had upon the
seeds of Greek culture. Fascinated by the new
occupation of thinking, the Greeks gave themselves
up to nothing else. Thus the Greek type of mind
was essentially an intellectual one, and never rose
above intellect ; it never attained intelligence.
It has been the tyranny of ages. To-day men
are beginning to throw off this tyranny and
to attain intellect plus emotion. That is, they
demand an intuitive rather than an intellectual
perception of things. The cultured person is
occupied with existing things ; and it is from
such things that he draws his inspiration. The
purely creative mind works in an x world. It is
impelled to create by sheer inward necessity. One
day the rhythmic stream of life, passing unhindered
through such a mind, touches a note of music.
Gradually this tiny seed-note expands, attains form,
and is thus born to provide a key to one of the great
mysteries of life and death.

Since this chapter was written Mr Craig has
moved — and I think moved rightly — in the direc-
tion of the realisation of his aims. By the financial
support of Lord Howard de Walden, he has been
enabled to realise his long cherished scheme of
founding a School of the Art of the Theatre. He
has also published his big and immensely importaat

K I. i.MM,Coo<;lc

io8 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

book of designs, Towards a New Theatre. There
is much in this book which goes to bear out my
statements regarding the origins of his ideas. Mr
Craig, for instance, acknowledges his debts to
Rembrandt, Ruskin, Blake, Fra Angelico, to
Irving, Yeats, Whistler, Pryde, Max Beerbohm,
Nicholson, Beardsley, to Tiepolo, Guardi, Crawhall,
Hugo, Piranesi, Vitruvius, Whitman, Andreini,
Ganassa, Martinelli, Gherardi, Delsarte, Otway,
VecelHo, to Raphael, Nietzsche, Pater, E. K.
Chambers, and to his father and mother. It will
be seen that he is spiritual heir to a goodly com-
pany. The book represents the period of Mr
Craig's development, between 1900— 1913. It
reveals that he does not stand still, but has passed
many of his old ideas. His progress has been
mainly in the direction of scenography, and we
find him happiest in the creation of purely sug-
gestive surroundings for players. This pursuit
brought him into contact with Max Reinhardt in
1905, the latter having repeatedly asked him to
co-operate in the production of a play. In 1905
he had some conversation with Reinhardt over the
production of C>£sar and Cleopatra. It seems that
it was Mr Craig's production of Dido and JEneas
which gives birth to the celebrated plain blue
background and the grey proscenium, which have
become so popular with reformers. Another fact
of some interest is this, that Mr Pocl and others
made the attempt some years ago to employ
curtains in place of scenery ; and Mr Craig
improved on their efforts by coming forward and
showing how the curtains were to be hung.

ii,Coo};

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 109

The Endowed Theatre — Organisation
AND Repertory
As though anticipating the coming of Max
Reinhardt, certain factors have long been at work
in Germany preparing the ground for him. The
principal of these is the muhiformed Endowed
Theatre, to which he owes a vast and cultured
theatre-going puhlic. In Taine's view, *' In
Germany the public which judges intellectual
products is the entire nation ; it is the society
of the large towns, the youth of the schools, the
artisan, the peasant, everybody. In Germany the
theatre, generally speaking, is organised to be one
of the most powerful agencies for educating the
people, and Germans have long endeavoured to
establish theatres that shall not be entirely depen-
dent on the box-office returns, nor on public taste,
but shall be in a position to supplement the one
and to guide the other, as well as to be free to
come within the reach of all purses." Though the
modern German stage is said to have begun with
Goethe and Schiller, the movement towards an En-
dowed Theatre was of much earlier date. It came
from England, and was initiated by or through the
English comedians (Enghsche Kombdianten) at the
close of the sixteenth and at the commencement of
the seventeenth century, at a time when wealthy
and cultured German princes kept companies of
English actors at court to amuse themselves and
their subjects. These players, who were among
the foreign actors of various nations who filtered
through the innumerable courts of the empire,

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no THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

and appeared at Cassel, Wolfenbiittel, Berlin,
Dresden, Cologne, and elsewhere, influenced the
German Theatre in two or three ways. They were
the means of initiating the Repertory Theatre.
They brought English plays which gave form to
the drama, and they introduced a style of acting
which gradually became stereotyped by the use of
masks. To-day the German Emperor, as King
of Prussia, has five private theatres in his main
provinces : two at Berlin, one at Wiesbaden, one
at Cassel, one at Hanover, and these theatres are
not in every case the most artistic in the towns to
which they belong. Thus the idea of " Fursten,"
kings or dukes endowing the theatre, is fairly old
in Germany, Later came the movement towards
a National Theatre. The German National
Theatre sprang out of the literary movement known
as the Sturm und Drang, the actual founder of which
is said to be J. G. Herder (1744—1803). Theatres
were established in several centres, and from this
it may be gathered that the idea of one National
Theatre was never seriously considered in Germany.
At the outset it was held to be impossible owing
to the division of the country into states. Thus
Berlin, Hamburg, Mannheim, and other cities each
clamoured for its own State Theatre, such theatre
to serve the purpose hitherto fulfilled by the Court
Theatre, that of being in the best sense a centre of
dramatic progress. Besides these Court and National
Theatres, there have sprung up of more recent years
numerous Municipal Theatres in the cities and towns
aiming to follow the lead of the Court and State
Theatres. Besides these there are other Reper-

ImCj

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT in

tory Theatres and People's Stage Societies, dimly
recalling those initiated in a rudimentary way by
Morris, Crane, Ruskin, Watts, and other art and
social reformers, which have become so indispens-
able that no city or town is considered complete
without them. In this connection Diisseldorf may
be mentioned. Though only a town of 300,000
inhabitants, it possesses, besides a large variety
theatre, the Apollo Theater, and a sort of Vaudeville
(Lustspielhaus) ; two theatres doing serious work ;
the usual Municipal Theatre, one of the best
financially supported of its kind in Germany ; the
State Theatre, with its two stock companies, one
for drama and one for opera ; and a Reformbiihne
— that is, a provincial parallel to Reinhardt's reform
theatre. This Reformbiihne is called the Schau-
spielhaus, and it has one stock company for drama
and comedy.

The endowed theatre system has offered many
advantages. It has been a distinct cultural influence ;
il has established a national gallery of drama, wherein
the history and development of the drama is fully
illustrated ; it has afforded new-comers a hearing ; it
has established a desirable system of theatre organ-
isation ; it has given birth to the Repertory move-
ment, and it has lent itself to the artistic movement
It is not necessary here to go into the working
details of the system. The subsidising is done in
various ways, by the reigning duke, by the State,
by the corporation, who appoint a director, or
leases its theatre to a manager, who receives certain
concessions for the purpose of enabling him to
keep his eye on art and off the box-office, and

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112 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

by private individuals who band together as share-
holders to provide a suitable theatre for good
plays in their centre. The latter method has
been adopted in England in the admirably con-
ceived Liverpool Repertory Theatre and at the
Glasgow Repertory Theatre. The German Court
Theatre has also produced the German Intendant,
in whom its loftiness of purpose may be said to be
in some instances reflected. We have nothing in
this country answering to this type of "leader." The
Intendant of the Court Theatre is rather a person
of quality than of actual theatrical experience. His
chief qualification is that he stands well with the
Court. This is generally speaking. Occasionally a
Court Intendant emerges who is the directing force
in the Theatre — such was the case with Goethe at
Weimar. But mostly he is an ornamental director
with a staff of efficient co-operators who produce
the plays for him. The King of Prussia {the
Emperor), the King of Saxony, and the Duke of
Saxc- Weimar nominate their own Intendants. The
Intcndants of the Municipal Theatre are usually
men qualified for directorship by a knowledge
of the practical work of the theatre. They are
sometimes critics, but more frequently actors and
producers. Thus Max Behrend, who was leader
of the German Theatre in London a few years
tgo, was chosen from among many applicants
Intendant of the Municipal Theatre of Mainz. In
France, M. Jules Claretie at the Theatre Fran9ais,
and M. Antoine at the Odeon, occupy the position
of a German Intendant, though M. Antoine has a
free hand in the administration of his theatre.

DianLigjbyGog

INFLUENCES ON HIS DEVELOPMENT 113

Max Reinhardt is, on the contrary, an independent
manager, being only responsible to himself, and
probably to his financial supporters. He is not
hampered by any of the impositions of the subsi-
dised theatre, like those of Royal Opera House,
Paris, where the Press and Parliament claim seats
on gala nights. The present financial position of
the endowed theatre deserves to be noticed,
especially as the example of Germany has drawn
wide-spread attention towards the supposed neces-
sity of establishing a National Theatre and other
forms of subsidised theatres in this country.
Until within thirty years ago, the State and
Municipal Theatres paid fairly well, some of
them exceptionally well. To-day, however, practi-
cally none of them pay. At first the sum given to
the director of the State Theatre was small, but it
increased as time went on. Now there are cities
and towns in Germany losing from 150,000 to
200,000 marks a year owing to the high standard
which they try to uphold in their own theatres.
Among these cities and towns may be mentioned
Mannheim, Diisseldorf, Freiburg-im-Breisgau, the
latter being a town of but 85,000 inhabitants.

The Court Theatres are no exception to the
rule. Every reigning Duke in Germany possesses
at least one Court Theatre. For instance, the
Grand Dukes of Baden, Hessen, Saxe- Weimar, the
Dukes of Altenburg, Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, have one
each, the Kings of Bavaria, Wiirtemberg, Saxony,
two each. The deficit yearly on the two Munich
Court Theatres is 420,000 marks, on the Darm-
stadt Theatre, 2 1 0,000 marks, on the Berlin Opera

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114 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

House, 1,000,000 marks, and the Dresden Opera
House, 500,000 marks. The privately subsidised
theatres are no better off. The Diisseldorf Schau-
spielhaus, a private enterprise endowed by wealthy
tradesmen of the Lower Rhine, has (roughly speak-
ing) a yearly deficit of about ^6000. Towards the
upkeep of this theatre the Diisseldorf Corporation
also contributes ^2500. It should be mentioned
that this sort of private theatre, with its private
and official endowment, is rare in Germany. The
financial decline of the endowed theatre can,
perhaps, only be understood and justified from the
German point of view. The German will tell
you that he loves the theatre ; that if the theatre
is necessary as a medium of mental and moral
education, it is quite as valuable as the University,
the Museum, or the Church, and should be placed
on the same economic bases as these. If it is to
be a centre of art illumination, then the difficulties
of its financial organisation are of no importance.
He is thoroughly convinced that the theatre en-
dowed and to a certain point controlled by the Court,
State, or Corporation has made the German public
what it is — far more cultured than other peoples.

That the endowed theatre system has cultivated
a taste for the intellectual theatre in the German
public is perfectly true. And it may be urged
by the opponents of the National Theatre scheme
that the absence of this system argues for the
indiffi:rent attitude of the English public towards
the intellectual theatre in England. It is not th;
the English public would not go to an established
intellectual theatre. It would not go because

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has not been given the same opportunity as the
Germans of cultivating the necessary taste. If the
classic and literary theatre had been accessible to
the English public for generations, as it has been
to the German pubhc, the taste for it would have
been awakened and an increasing demand by large
audiences would have been met by a corresponding
supply. The difficulty now is that it is too late
to apply the German methods of cultivation of
taste. For one thing, there is springing up every-
where a revolt against mere intellectualism ; the
attempt to convert the theatre into an arena for
literary battles has broken down, and on all sides
there is an increasing demand for lyrical forms of
expression in which emotion and imagination shall
play predominant parts. And the revolt affords
another interpretation of the increased financial
difficulties of the endowed theatre : it is that
the German public are getting sick of mere
culture. History and archgeology are all very
well in their place, in a museum, but transferred
to the theatre for a long number of years, they
begin to act as a soporific. Culture has created
a gulf between the theatre and creative forms of
art which it will take centuries to bridge. It
is the outcome of our peculiar civilisation and of
our prehistoric mode of thinking. Maybe the
Germans have noticed this and are now demanding
art as an antidote. They do not ask that the
endowed theatre shall be abolished, only that it
shall be served by an intelligence which is beyond
the intellectual individuals and groups now occupy-
ing the theatre. That the prevailing taste of the

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ii6 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

German public is for a new form of representation
is proved by the immense success, financially and
other, of Max Reinhardt. Though Reinhardt is,
I believe, the culmination of the culture move-
ment in the theatre, he is also an initiator of the
artistic movement. That he is largely indebted
for ideas to the subsidised theatre system he him-
self would not deny. It has given him a public,
has inspired the spirit of organisation, and has
handed him the secrets of the Repertory Theatre.
Perhaps it may lead him to put an end to the
educative theatre and to lay the foundations of the
Theatre of Illumination.

HIS AIMS AND PRINCIPLES

" The Theatre is neither a moral nor a literary
imtiiution."

" The Theatre and literature are separate from
one anothen"

" Two directors whose rank and importance
could hardly be questioned have seen the theatre
at its finest epoch : one was the greatest German
writer, the other the greatest German stage-
manager — Goethe and Schrbder."

The reference to Goethe is doubtless intended to
call attention to his association with the turbulent
phase of the Sturm und Drang which Goethe
stamped with his individuality at the moment
when the theatre was fostering a drama which was
throwing off the shackles of literary artificiality
and becoming free, spontaneous, and creative.

The Schrcider here meant is Friedrich Ludwig
Schroder, tragedian and author, born 3rd November
1 744 at Schwerin, and died 3rd September at Ham-
burg, where, in 1771, he became director of the
theatre. His great achievement was that of making
Shakespeare familiar to the German public, and it is
principally to his efforts that Shakespeare has since
become a German classic. In Germany, " at the
side of Shakespeare," as Sir Sidney Lee reminds us.

aigHi.ril.yG00;

ir8 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

" stand Schiller and Goethe and Lessing, the
classical dramatists of Germany ; Moliere, the
classical dramatist of France ; and Calderon, the
classical dramatist of Spain." It may have been
due to Schroder's efforts that Germans have come
to regard Shakespeare as born at Stratford-on-Avon,
Germany. Schroder, it may be noted, was largely
influenced by the epoch-making criticisms of Les-
sing, and learnt much from his Hamburghche Drama-
turgie, for instance. To continue the extracts :
" Our Lanterna magica will exhibit a mass of
illuminating forces. Rich as that of the world
should be the life shown on our stage, and as such
life is contained in art and poetry, we aim to offer
these inexhaustible riches without stint for the
delectation of actor and public alike : the appalling
power of the Greek tragic poets, the unlimited
fancy of Shakespeare, the rebellious yet highly
refined beauty of our classic poets, the mad caper-
ings of Aristophanian mirth, the piquant mockery of
Nestroy — in one word, the whole scale of Tragedy
and Comedy, from the profound seriousness of the
German soul-painters, to the spooks of Wedekind,
Eulenberg, and Bernard Shaw. The stage should
hold the mirror up to nature, and its repertoire sh guld
bea^rich and kaleidoscopic as_life itself." Here It is
where the whole scale of Fate, from the depths of
its horrors to the dizziest heights of its joys, should
be played upon ; where men and women should
sob and laugh ; where colour, now dull and dismal,
now bright and joyous, should scintillate ; where
orchestra and chorus should sometimes revel, some-
times mourn, where actors should play the tragedian

iM,Cooj

HIS AIMS AND PRINCIPLES 119

to-day, to-morrow the clown. In such ways we
seek to widen the scope of the theatre of to-day,
to elevate its work and to tighten its hold upon the
public. It was not by chance that we passed from
the Little Theatre to the Greek Arena. We
encourage the beUef, not without ground, that
those who follow us will enjoy a new vision."

I cull these extracts from the Bldtter des
lUutsthen Theaters. This little sheet was issued
by the Deutsches Theater about two years ago,
and has been published fortnightly since. Like
the official organ of the DCisseldorf Theatre,
it is a literary venture aiming to propagate
the ideas of the Deutsches Theater, and to give
the public an all-round view of certain authors
and plays. It is edited by Arthur Kahane, the
literary director of the Deutsches Theater, and
Felix Hollaender, the manager of the Kammer-
spielhaus. But though it aims to expound the
ideas of Max Reinhardt and his theatre, oddly
enough it has a tendency to leave the reader
puzzled as to the meanings of certain of Reinhardt's
aims. For instance, I have looked in vain for
the meaning attached by Reinhardt to rhythm
and to distillation, two elements for which he has
sought throughout. Still this little sheet is of value
to those who desire to come into communication
directly with the theatre, instead of through an
outside medium. To the foregoing extracts I am
led to add the following literal translation of Herr
Arthur Kahane's " Glossen zum Theater der Ftinf-
tausend " as being notes on Reinhardt's great dream
— the Theatre of the Five Thousand — which reveal

ih,Coo;

)

I20 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

some of the ideas that are actuating the collective
mind of the theatre as represented by Rcinhardt
himself,

" One of the marked characteristics of that
strangely beautiful goddess, the theatre, is that
she only yields herself freely to those who entirely
serve and worship her. Love is ever monomania ;
all else is prostitution and business. He to whom
the theatre is not the whole world, its mirror and
its centre, has nothing to seek or gain therein.
The theatre is a jealous goddess ; she tolerates no
other goddess. But she richly recompenses him
who devotes himself entirely to her, offers him a
world, presents him with a vision of the cosmos,
and creates in him a world-idea — in fact, forges for
him a connecting link with his time, closer, finer,
more intimate, more mysterious than can be
obtained by other means. From such a love of the
theatre and such a union with the time has the
idea of the Theatre of the Five Thousand arisen.

" On every side there are signs that the theatre
is in a transition state. It is seen in the creative
activities of dramatists as well as in the taste of
the public.

" Old traditions pale and petrify, and interest in
them is lost. Old ' genres ' (forms) die. New
ones arise, bad ones as yet. But the worker must
be optimistic and remember that the bad only
influences the crowd because the good that is in
the crowd has not yet become fertilised. And this
potential good is the living contact with the time.
_Only in its worst periods does the theatre lose
its connection with the time. If the senile art of

D„:,N..dt,.G00aii

HIS AIMS AND PRINCIPLES 121

court theatres fades, dramas of the epigones fail,
and social comedies divorced from social life die
in the background, it is because they have missed
the open road to the soul of the time. Revues,
operettas, pantomimes only draw the public in
crowds because there is to be found in them,
though not always in the best taste, a striving
after actuahty, an attempt to set up a contact
with the modern spirit that is stirring our hearts
and minds.

" Should not the tremendous changes which.
our entire mode of life is undergoing find an\
echo on the stage ? The technical revolution, \
the expansion of all dimensions, our electric '
existence, the discovery of society as a living
organism, the re-awakened joy in the struj
conquer the elements, the heightened conscious-'
ness of physical power, the love of nature and
the cosmos, the growth of a new mythology — all
these found singers and rhapsodists in Walt Whit-
man, Verhaeren, Johannes V. Jensen, Hamsun,
Stefan George ; and should nothing of this be
expressed on the stage ?

" Here, in the Theatre of the Five Thousand,
we have, I believe, the first attempt at such an
expression. It arises, to my mind, from a similar
feeling for our time, and the best of it is contained
in the will to capture these manifestations of a new
awakening and to set them reverberating. And it
is perhaps not an accident that the belief in the
myths of our time links itself to the belief in the
myths of the ancients, as the really new is always
strongly linked to the really old (or tradition).

I. ■■. iM,Coo<;le

122 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

" Problems of the theatre arc problems of the
time. It will, therefore, be interesting to mention
some which naturally arise from the new form of
the stage. Of course, this form is not yet finally
fixed, and impressions gained from rehearsals and
productions, so far, lead more often to questions
than to answers. Moreover, only those who care
to look deeply will discover beneath these questions,
which on the surface appear to be related merely
to the theatre, a relation to the important tendencies
of our time. Perhaps it is because in the essence
of all these questions lies a desire to create a new
and intenser relationship between the spectator and
the work of art (the public and spirit of the artist).

" The first law of the new theatre is utmost sim-
plicity. Apart from the consideration that there
is no time for complicated changes, the vast space
demands the simplest of forms, and strong, ^ig,
severe lines. All accessories are superfluous ; they
cannot possibly be noticed, or, if they are, they
are a source of distraction. At the most, scenicA
decoration can only be frame, not function. The)
elaboration of details, the emphasising of nuances
disappear ; the actor and the actor's voice are truly
essential, while lighting becomes the real source of
decoration, its single aim being to bring the i m-J
portant into the light, and to leave the unimportant
in the shadow.

" Thus the eiFects are simplified and heightened
according to the need of monumentality. Under
the influence of these mighty spaces, these big,
severe lines, all that is small and petty disappears,
and it becomes a matter of course to appeal to

I. ■■, iM,Coo<;lc ]

the hear ts of great audiences with the strongest
an? deepest elements. The petty and unimportant
^-elements that are not eternal in us — cease to have
effect. This, theatre can only express the great
eternal elemental passions and the problems of
humanity. In it spectators cease to be mere spec-
tators ; they become the people ; their emotions
are simple and primitive, but great and powerful,
as becomes the eternal human race.

" Many things that appear to most people to be
inseparable from the theatre are being discarded.
No curtain separates stage and auditorium. On
entering the theatre the spectator feels and is
impressed by the possibilities of space, and the
essential mood is created in him to be preserved
after the piece has begun. No small, strongly
circumscribed, impassable frame separates the
world, of the play from the outer world, and the
action flows freely through the whole of the
theatre. The peep-show character of the "scene,"
which was known neither to the stage of the
ancients, to the Shakespearean stage, nor to
the Molierean stage, and which to people of a
conservative frame of mind is still the highest
point of theatrical art, simply because they are
not aware that they merely worship a fossilised
fragment of Italian Opera and Ballet tradition,
has vanished. The chorus arises and moves In
the midst of the audience ; the characters meet
each other amid the spectators ; from all sides
the hearer is being impressed, so that gradually
he becomes part of the whole, and is rapidly
absorbed in the action, a member of the chorus,

i. ■. iM,Coo<;lc ,

124 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

so to speak. This close contact (intimacy) is the
chief feature of the new form of the stage. It
makes the spectator a part of the action, secures
his entire interest, and intensifies the effect upon
him.

" Big spaces compel the unfolding of personality.
It is in these that men develop their best and
final power. Though separated by great dis-
tances, men still face each other, and inevitably
the conflicting feeling arises as to who is the
stronger personality. Here strength and passion
become the predominating qualities, the quintessence
of tragedy, the conflict of personalities, the two
dramatic elements contained in and transmitted
by space. It is thus possible to rediscover a feel-
ing which has been lost to us, but without losing
that process of greater intimacy which seems to me
the most useful result of the late naturalistic move-
ment in the theatre. For through the close
contact with the spectator, who, metaphorically
speaking, can feel the warm breath of dramatic
art, the actor will be compelled to draw from
the well of his deepest experience. There is
no better proof of the genuineness of power and
feeling exerted than to come successfully through
this ordeal in this space before the said spectator.

" Of course, it will come easiest to actors who
possess a musical temperament, for music is in-
herent in human beings, and by music we may
reach the heart of the vastest crowds. In the
midst of the strongest accents of human passions,
and the powerful logic of the dramatic struggle,
which will always form the most important part

I. ■■. ih,Coot;le i

I
I

HIS AIMS AND PRINCIPLES

125

of this side of theatrical art, pauses are imperative.
It is the function of music to fill them in, either
alone or in the form of the rhythmic chorus.
By means of music this theatre will retain its dual
character of the festive and the solemn.

*' The foregoing experiences marked the pro-
ductions of (Edipus and the Orestes ; but as we do
not believe that the big theatre lends itself solely
to one kind of effect — the heroic — the next experi-
ment will be made with an entirely different sort
of work, which has nothing in common with the
other two, except a broad humanity, and which
differs from them in being extremely simple, idyllic,
and popular. I refer to the old morality Everyman."
From the foregoing article it will be gathered
that Max Reinhardt has in view a theatre wherein
the drama^an eroSEge. f roiTLan effete culture, from
sterilising and clogging traditions, and re-establish
a!IEaaLsIihat is In harmony with man'5
nature, He seeks to bring back inTo
leatre the greater, ptofounder internal and

lemeals _pf Jiuman nature in the drama

which have been banished by ^a" long period of '
mere intellectuality^ Such elements are not always
to be expressed in words. Hence the appUcation
of music. But they may always be trusted to find
a response in the playgoer of no matter what age
— and in every member of the greatest audience.
Such elements are to be expressed simply and
unostentatiously. They do not require splendid
and impossible realistic effects, nor elaborate devices
of staging. They require but the mystery and
Immensity of space.

Digiti.idbyGooole J

126 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

In regard to other points, I believe that Hcrr
Kahane refers to " the time " in the sense of the
contemporary or modern spirit. I believe, too,
that when he speaks of modern scientific inven-
tions, he is referring to them rather as modern
myths, just as the Greeks deified the elements and
dealt with them in mythological form. He asks,
in fact, for a new mythology containing the
essentials of a new form of drama adapted to the
form of theatre, called the Theatre of the Five
Thousand. One of these essentials is the spirit
of the time, possibly the morality of the time
which modern science has bred. The old forms
of drama and comedy must either be buried or
revitalised by being brought up to date. Play-
wrights and producers must sound the note of
modern tragedy or comedy. Otherwise the theatre
will lose its audience. Theatre managers who,
like artists, are out of touch with life, persist in
giving the public the old and the obsolete. And
the public, or that section of it which has developed
along the new or scientific lines, will have none of
it. There are playwrights who are aware of this.
They have their fingers on the public pulse, and
they hold their audiences by giving them crude
and commonplace everyday materials. Mr Shaw
brings a motor car on the stage. Messrs Henry
Hamilton and Cecil Raleigh dramatise current
events powdered with " Science Siftings." Herr
Kahane asks for something more imaginative —
something that goes even beyond the Irish plays,
with their combination of the old and the new,
but not beyond those of Ibsen. Ibsen alone,

ni,:iiPt.ji,C00ale||

HIS AIMS AND PRINCIPLES 127

among modernists, dressed the eternal man in
modern dress. The eternal man must always be
in_ modem dress ; but big-souled and adventurous.
Contained in the article are the ideas springing
from Max Rcinhardt's latest development. To him
the theatre is the first ideal : everything, in fact.
He lives in it, thinks in it, and has made it a part of
himself. If he loves the theatre, then others must
love it, or leave it. In pursuit of this ideal he
has so shaped the Deutsches Theater that it shall
give only to those who have something to give it.
" Serve the theatre and it will serve you " is his
motto. Then he reverses its common attitude.
Instead of putting questions to the spectator, it
must set the spectator questioning himself. Again,
he asks that it shall not express the so-called real
problems, but the fundamental issues of life. In
this he has discovered the difference between old
methods and new. Further, he is occupied with
bringing the actor and the audience together and
making the latter a part of the action through an
appeal to the elemental and vital passions. Intimacy
is to be attained through external simplicity appeal-
ing to internal simplicity. Thus we are led by
Herr Kahane to sec how Reinhardt has progressed in
his idea of intimacy since his " Brille " days ; how
he has replaced the one-man intimacy, so prevalent
in England, by the ensemble intimacy, till it has
grown to the proportions of Sumurdn and CEdipus.
In England we have had a long line of actors, in-
cluding Macready, Kemble, Kean, Irving, Toole,
Hare, Edward Terry, Forbes- Robertson, Tree,
seeking to bring audiences solely under their owa

Digitized iiy Goo;

lit THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

speO, as if some power went forth immediately
tbey entered the " scene " and disappeared the
onoient they left it, leaving the audience to fill up
die gap with large yawns. The desire to appeal
direct to the public through the Will of the Theatre
has never been awakened or it might have led to
a conception, similar to Reinhardt's, of a huge
intimate theatre to hold five thousand spectators,
where space and the elemental passions and feel-
ingSi, the subconscious memory which lies dormant
in every creature, are to serve the desired purpose
6S attaining the big unified effect. Under Rein-
lurdt, the theatre is to play the part of a dynamo
containing magnetic currents that are received by
ererybody. By this means the cosmic memory
within each auditor will be stirred, and each will
be brought within the action of the play. The
J is described in Whitman's lines : —

A noiidess, patieni spider

I niJfked where on 2 little promontory it stood isolated,

M^rlccd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding

It launched forth filament, filament, filament out of Itself,

Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you, O my soul, where you stand

Surrounded, detached in measureless oceans of space^

Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,

Seeking the sphere to connect them,

Till the bridge you will need be formed,

Till (he ductile anchor hold,

Till the gosnmcr threads mingling

Cktcb tomcwiierc — O my Soul.

Of course the analogy does not hold good
throughout. A theatre can scarcely be compared
with a spider, but its function of enabling the

^gUgk

HIS AIMS AND PRINCIPLES 129

drama to spin invisible threads whereby to secure
the soul of the audience is, figuratively speaking,
the same. We have only to imagine the collective
mind of all concerned in a production, projecting
itself towards an audience sensitive to vibrations
and atmosphere, to understand what intimacy really
is. It will be found that there is no clue in Herr
Kahane's article to Max Reinhardt's idea of ex-
tracting drama. We are not told how he seizes
on each classical play in turn, and introduces
the essential modern spirit, or how with a sure
instinct he seizes the essential drama from the ',
modern play ; how he pours the classic play into"
the crucible of his personality and changes it
into the desired element, from which important
details of the original element have been eliminated.
Distilling the dramatic essence of the play in this
way, he is apt to call forth the opinion that the
spirit and essence of it all is false. History in
modern language is very often falsehood. Bu t
the article conveys the impression that Reinhardt
is an impressionist. His aim in the big theatre is
certainly that oj creating impressionist sensations,
by the use of simple, big outlines, colour, and the
use_o£ .light as the predominant factor in a scene, \
not as an accessory to it. Apparently he is con^''^
structing a huge sTielPto contain the voice of the
infinite. But there are contradictions, as will be
seen elsewhere. His " properties " are not impres-
sionistic. We find that Reinhardt has also dis-
covered impulse as well as the significance of lyric-
ism and of rhythmic vitality in their relation to the
theatre and drama. In pauses are contained the

iM,Coo<;lc

I30 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

greatest dramatic moments of the drama. The use
of music is to fill in these pauses so as to preserve
the contact with the spectator. Music is thus the
subconscious element that runs and feels with the
drama, now rising, now falling, as the dominant
rhythm of the action demands. This rhythm has
an answering rhythm in ourselves, which it is the
function of the drama to find. It is a cosmic
rhythm which never responds to local stimuli.
The sort of rhythmic unity we want the drama of
the theatre to express is contained in these lines
from Whitman's " Song of the Open Road " :

The earth expanding right hand and left hand.
The picture alive, every part in its best light,
The music Tailing in where it is wanted and
Stopping where it is not wanted.

Read the last line figuratively, and the idea is
complete. The music ought not to stop, but
should follow the example of African divers, who,
M. Verneuil tells us, swim singing round a vessel ;
at the eighth bar they all plunge together, mentally
following the air while under water ; at the twelfth
bar they all push the vessel at once, and at the
sixteenth come to the surface. Acting thus in
rhythmic unity, none of their efforts is lost.
Max Rcinhardt is now working towards a big
rhythmic unity.

.MSi^

HIS MATERIALS

We have seen that for Reinhardt the drama
only one meaning, to be of the theatre. He allows
nothing to interfere with this view, neither litera-
ture, philosophy, nor morals. It may be said that
he has a dramatic twist, and we may recognise
him by his dramatic expresssion. We need not
go far for evidence. If Herr Kahane's article
reveals him to us as re-introducing the theatre
to the theatre, there is a very valuable piece of
Reinhardt literature which suggests that Reinhardt
seeks in the Deutsches Theater to rebuild the
culture drama of the world. I refer to Siegfried
Jacobsohn's Max Reinhardt^ published by Erich
Reiss, Berlin, which first appeared in serial form.
In this illustrated volume Herr Jacobsohn has
taken thirty plays, and by means of them traced
Rcinhardt's progress as a producer. The author
says in his introduction that hts aim is to present
a picture of Reinhardt's development and art.
He will prove, as far as a critic can, by thirty
different productions, that Reinhardt, like no other
German producer, seeks to give every play its
individual character and style, its own atmosphere,
and its own music. But the author lays stress

'3'
^^^^^^^^^^^^ I. ■. ii>,Coo<;lc

132 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

chiefly on the point that Reinhardt has brought
one-half of the plays, the classics, up to date ;
while to the other half, the modern plays, he has
given extreme modernity ; brought modern life
into the one and modern form of art into the
other. Thus, in Herr Jacobsohn's view, Rein-
hardt has created what his critic terms a " half-
theatre," wherein to synthcsise the old and new.
In this way he is organising an unequalled pageant
of play and staging. The pageant, however, does
not include all the varieties of the stage and
drama — Greek, Roman, Renaissance, Puritan,
Cavalier, Early Victorian, domestic, economic,
the old Italian and French, Moliere, Corneille,
Racine, etc. It is composed solely of the seven
Stages of man : Greek, Oriental, Italian, French,
Early English {Miracles, Moralities, and Eliza-
bethan), German {classic and modern), and modern
European {English, Russian, etc.). In it are
the elements of the old — variety, tragedy, comedy,
chivalry, hate, joy, sorrow, success, failure — all the
richly coloured threads that were woven into the
ancient garment ; and the monotonous element of
the new, the failure of life. In short, Reinhardt
has not yet discovered a new drama, but is equally
balanced between the old and the modern. The
original formation and working of these seven
stages are worth consideration. Broadly speaking,
to-day there are three forms of stage : one derived
from the East, one, possessing architectonic qualities,
from Greece, and one from the Italian Renaissance.
The latter had a foundation in the Greek stage,
but early broke away from the architectonic form.

byGOO'

siy

HIS MATERIALS 133

and exhibited the disease of painted scenic effects,
which has gradually led to the development of the
modern framed or pictorial stage. To-day there
has sprung up the movement aiming, as described
in the preceding chapter, to take up and reinterpret
early stages, especially Greek and Shakespearean.
The pagan and the Christian stalk the land arm-
in-arm, delighted to take up their modern allot-
ment. Of course, the stage has always shown a
tendency to determine the form and dimensions of
the drama which it shall represent. The Shake-
spearean stage largely determined the form of the
Shakespearean drama. Shakespeare wrote for the
theatre of his time, and we are told by many wise
heads that if Shakespeare had had the modern
theatre with all its resources, he would not only
have written his plays differently, but have availed
himself of the said resources. So convinced of
this are some persons, that they regard the modern
rediscovery of the Swan Theatre and the subsequent
attempts to reconstruct a Shakespearean stage as
the essential preliminary phase of the full develop-
ment of such resources. In my view, this mania
for developing stage mechanics before we know
what the new drama is going to be, ought to
be taxed. It is the sheerest nonsense to talk
about building a new theatre in the belief that a
new drama will be born when no one is looking.
The drama came first. Some will say the earth
came first, then the dancer. I am not concerned
with the point here, nor with the current view M
that if one desires to differentiate the drama of the H
^M Renaissance from that of the Middle Ages, or from, fl

134 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

that of the Restoration, it is necessary to begin by
determining the nature of the Renaissance stage,
and thereafter estimating the action and reaction
its form, size, and working must have had upon
structure, representation, and interpretation of these
forms of drama. I am only occupied with showing
that each great naturaHstic reform movement
occupied a stage of its own.

The Greek Stage

Asmany informed persons know, the drama started
in a very humble way. I do not propose to deal
here with the many theories of the origin of Greek
tragedy. The god Dionysus has been dealt with
by the optimistic Nietzsche, and Dr Frazer has
approached him from a more learned point of view.
It will suffice to say that in Greece the mimicry
of the savage grew into a highly organised affair.
Briefly, the primitive dance, in which the body
was used to express emotion too intense for speech,
became action, the story became speech, which
became song under intense emotion : out of these
two grew the drama. The story took the narrative-
biographical form and told of great events and the
deeds of great heroes, of the struggle between man
and Destiny. To the doings of heroic individuals
yns added the world spirit, or chorus, which ex-
pressed the ultimate emotions about great deeds
and conveyed them to the great mass of spectators,
just as to-day music is being used as a special instru-
ment for expressing those emotions which are too
d««p for words. To the ancient Greeks the drama
must have presented a far difierent appearance

g»h rj,<j,i,7i.dtyC00Qlej

HIS MATERIALS 135

from what it presents to-day. The infant drama
was nourished on rehgious ritual and choric
dance, and the newly fledged " cherub " was a
comhinaticn of the angelic and satanic, with ,a
great deal of the child-like. The infant entered
into poetry as a new conception of human expres-
sion, and was provided with all the most powerful
adjuncts that the poet could embody in words.
It was brought into the open and encouraged to
invoke the most sympathetic yet festive and
reverent sentiment of the Greek public towards
itself. So nurtured in turn by j^schylus,
Sophocles, and Euripides, it reached full maturity
and fell into decay. But throughout, Greek drama
was never more than a Voice and a Movement.
It was a Voice and a Movement which expressed
themselves to a vast concourse of spectators drawn
together by the religious spirit — the spirit of the
religious festival, and of the Church function. Its
patron was the god Dionysus, at whose festivals
the plays were celebrated. It took the form of
a trilogy, sometimes with a comic tail called a
satyr play. It was a Voice and a Movement which
spoke in a vast open-air theatre, containing at one
end some simple scenic device, a temple or palace
front, and accommodating forty or fifty thousand
spectators. There was no realism in representa-
tion or interpretation. The Voice — through the
medium of three or four actors, wearing tragic
masks, with open mouths and glaring eyes, strange
high head-dresses, and stilted and padded and
standing on a high and narrow platform — attained
heights undreamt of to-day. Below, the Move-

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136 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

ment, expressed by the chorus, fascinated the 1
audience by the beauty of its rhythmic chant, by '
the dignity of its slow, solemn, and rhythmic pose. '
Both were united by the all-pervading spell of
rhythmic music, in harmony.

The Chinese and Japanese Stages

Drama in China originated in a religious dance,
the Bugaku, born 2000 years ago. It took the
form of the religious temple dance, which was
afterwards introduced into Japan under the name
the " Kagura." Apparently the Chinese drama
is inaccessible to change. The theatre is exactly
where it has been for hundreds of years. Its
formation and working remain unaltered. There
is a broad naked stage that stretches across one
end of a, comparatively speaking, bare interior.
It has no wings, flies, or curtain. Gorgeously
embroidered banners take the place of scenery ;
sometimes symbolic " properties " are used, and
sometimes inappropriate " properties " play inap-
propriate parts, as in the Western Theatre. The
centre of the stage is occupied by the orchestra.
On cither side of the orchestra up stage back is
a door. The actors enter the scene by these
doors, as well as by means of a long platform
running through the centre of the auditorium.
In the one case they come from whence the
action is taking place ; in the other, from a
distance, to take part in the action. The costumes
worn are very rich in colour, and their arrange-
ment displays a sense of the harmony of pure
fresh colours. Pure colour is put against pure

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JbyGOOgj.

colour, and there is no lowering of tones for the
sake of harmony. This is the primitive sense of
colour. Nowhere is the glory of colour seen more
than in the masses of barbaric Chinese colour.
In China men impersonate women and are so care-
fully prepared for the purpose, even to the crushed
feet and mincing walk, that the illusion is complete.
The Japanese stage has developed from the Shinto
temple stage, a primitive affair erected for the
performance of the " Kagura," one of the religious
temple dances introduced from China. Here we
have a stage, and later the theatre, determined by
the drama-dance. The dance, in fact, came first,
and without it there would have been no stage.
The " Kagura " dance was performed in the shrine
before the altar, no special decoration or background
being necessary. The erection of a stage for this
dance soon followed. From the "Kagura" de-
veloped the cultured "No" drama. The "No"
drama has a special stage, which is described by
Sheko Tsubouchi in The Mask as follows : " Having
developed out of a kind of Bugaku that was played
in the shrines, ' No ' drama, like Bugaku, is pre-
sented on a stage that has no background and no
curtain. There is in the back of the stage a
plank-wall, on which are painted large pine trees.
This may be called the background of the stage,
but this background is never changed, no matter
what play may be presented before it. It is,
therefore, rather a part of the permanent decora-
tion of the stage. The floor of the stage and its
surrounding walls are made of planks of Hinoki
tree. The stage is rectangular, and at its four

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138 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

corners stand four posts. These four posts arc
regarded as the symbols of the four corners of
the earth, and the stage itself is a small world.
Under the floor are buried four or five large empty
vases, which serve as a sort of a resonator to the
sound of the footsteps, and of the harps and the
flutes that are played on the stage. Towards the
left of the stage is what is called Hashigakari.
This is a narrow path leading from the dressing
room to the stage. It is made of planks and is
really a part of the stage. ' No ' actors play on it
as they go through it to the stage. Between the
stage and the seat of the spectators lies an un-
occupied space covered with sand. This space is
meant to mark the sacred stage from the vulgar
seal of the spectators. It is a kind of proscenium,
but its meaning is more religious. In this sandy
place, along the Hashigakari, are planted three pine
trees. I am not sure what they mean, but I think
both they and the pine trees painted on the back
wall symbolise purity and piety or some such
religious virtues." The writer goes on to show
that the " No" drama has resemblances to the Greek
drama, in which music, chant, and dance have equal
importance. There is a primitive orchestra of five
placed in a similar manner to the Chinese orchestra.
There are eight persons who form a motionless
chorus, which differs from the Greek chorus in
that it sometimes explains what the actor is doing
and sometimes sings his part when it is too heavy
for him. Further, masks are sometimes worn, and
the costumes are rich and appropriate.

As there is an interchange of Eastern and

I
I

:s worn, and ^
^tern and>^|

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HIS MATERIALS 139

estem ideas taking place at this moment, I
may include here an architectural account of a
Japanese theatre, which was sent to me by the
eminent architect Josiah Conder of Tokio.

** The general appearance of the theatre is
that of a broad, squat-looking building of wooden
construction, with a wide central roof of flat pitch,
a clearstory, and lower lean-to roofs at the sides.
The large roof has generally a low continuous lantern
running along the top to admit air and light. The
walls are constructed of a framing of vertical and
horizontal timbers filled in with lathing, clay, and
plaster, having weather-boarding nailed upon the
outside. The windows are oblong openings,
with wooden bars placed either vertically or hori-
zontally, closed, in bad weather only, by sliding
shutters, having paper lights, which are placed
towards the inside of the reveals.

" A gay appearance is given to the otherwise
insignificant fa9ade by means of large placards
heavily framed, which are hung in profusion in
front, and decorated with large representations of
scenes from the play, in bright, harmonious colours.
Some of these posters extend from the ground to
the eaves ; and, in addition, there are often a
number of bright flags on poles fixed in the path-
way. The theatres of a Japanese town are gener-
ally placed together in the same district ; and
about them are several large tea-houses (hotels),
whence it is usual to procure one's ticket and make
all arrangements for seats and refreshments.

With the Japanese, as with the ancient Greeks,
the performance of a play is the matter of a wKoU

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I40 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

day, the theatre opening at about six in the morn-j
ing and closing at dusk. This is broken by frequent
and tedious intervals between the acts, when the
audience adjourn to the tea-houses, or take their
meals in the theatre. The building is entered
from the end facing the stage, through a sort
of central hall, containing racks for depositing
umbrellas, clogs, and generally serving the purpose
of a cloakroom. On either side of this entrance
are rooms, some of which are devoted to the
manager and his officers, and others to the actors.
The actors have rooms at both ends of the theatre.
There are also private entrances in the front
communicating with some of these rooms.

" Between the entrance, with its adjoining rooms,
and the auditorium, or main body of the building,
is a passage, running from side to side, leading to
the staircases and side passages. Direct admission
is gained into the pit, across the main passage, by
two doorways, between which is a row of small
compartments, closed in towards the entrance, but
opening on to the theatre, looking towards the
stage. These rooms are some of them occupied
by dealers in programmes or provisions, and others
by police, who attend to preserve order.

" The pit holds by far the greater part of the
audience ; for the raised and supported seats at
the sides and end, which correspond to European
box-seats, are comparatively few in number. The
pit-seats consist of a great number of low, box-
like divisions, placed upon a floor sloping slightly
upwards from the stage end. The incline
scarcely perceptible. The divisions arc about f(

I
I

ping slightly M
e incline is H
e about four^l

feet square, and are intended each for the seating of
6ve people, squatting upon the mat-covered floor.

*' There are two passages through these seats
from entrance to stage, one on either side, and
these are sometimes used in passing from seat to
scat, but access is obtained to any part of the pit
by walking along the low divisions between each
compartment, the edges being made flat for the
purpose. Sometimes, in addition to this simple
mode of communication, there are one or two
cross passages of a plank's width ; these, as well as
the principal side passages being always at the level
of the top of the seat divisions, and consequently
on the same level as the stage, and of the shoulders
of the audience seated in the pit.

" The main passages referred to are also used
by the actors during the performance, who often
approach the stage from the front of the theatre
where they have several dressing-rooms. Some-
times an actor will stop to speak or act in this
passage in the midst of his audience, addressing
his fellow-actors on the stage across the people.
The passage on one's left hand as one faces the
stage is called the main passage. It is wider than
that on the opposite side, and more used. There
is also a corresponding underground passage beneath
it, and a trap-door to admit of sudden appearances
and disappearances. This lower passage communi-
cates with a wide space below the stage, where are
appliances for hoisting connected with several trap-
doors in the floor of the stage. A magician or
ghost can thus disappear quickly from the stage,
and appear amidst the audience ; or, what often

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14: THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

happens, a hero or victim slain upon the stage will
rise in a transformed, ghostly apparition in the
passage, illumined by a coloured light.

" Some very pleasing scenic effects are obtained
by the use of the upper passages ; sometimes a
gaily dressed procession, or an armed suite of
attendants, approach the stage in a long line, with
all the slow ceremonial and etiquette which belong
to the customs of old Japan. At other times an
exit will be made imposing by a large train of
followers ; a farewell parting will be lengthened
out by lingerings and looking back ; or, may be,
some favourite low comedian will give full play to
his comic strut, action, or grimace, as he makes his
entrance or his exit across the long passage. This
peculiarity has seemed worth dwelling upon, as,
by reason of it, certain representations can be
obtained which decidedly improve the effect of
the play, and which are more or less impossible
in European theatres, where approaches must be
sudden, and a slow arrival or far-off action can be
suggested only by distant sounds behind the stage
from invisible supernumeraries, or by exaggerated
expressions of expectation and alarm on the part of
the actors upon the stage. To assist this conven-
tionality, and to carry out still further the idea of
the all-pervading nature of the scene in a Japanese
theatre, strips of painted canvas, continuing the
stage scenery, are often hung to the fronts of the
upper boxes and galleries running all round the
theatre.

" An example of this may be given by reference
to a portion of a favourite play, in which is reprc-

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HIS MATERIALS 143

sented the embarkation of a prince from his own
castle town.

*' When the scene opens, a boat lies in the fore-
ground, the floor of the stage being covered with
painted canvas, representing a sandy beach in front
and water touching the prow of the boat, and
extending behind to the back of the stage. The
prince and his suite having entered the boat, it
is moved by means of the turn-tables of the stage,
and at the same time the canvas representing the
water is drawn forward, the sandy beach disappears,
and the whole stage represents sea. Then, gradually
along the sides of the upper boxes strips of canvas
painted as water are drawn by cords, until at
length on the further gallery-front facing the stage
is seen the representation of the distant shore and
castle town. This forms a fitting and expressive
accompaniment to a long farewell soliloquy from
the boat, the prince addressing his native home
which he is leaving behind him. Thus a vivid
reality is given to a change in the scene of action.
The idea which it seems to suggest to the audience
is, that they have in reality followed their hero
to his next abode, leaving with him the last scene
behind, and not that he has left them in the for-
saken town to be transported mysteriously to the
next scene of action. The two or three outermost
rows of pit compartments slope considerably up-
wards on either side and at the back. Outside
these seats are more spacious compartments running
all round the theatre in a single row. These are
the lower box-seats, and at their front are occasional
wooden posts supporting the floor of the upper tier

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144 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

above them. They are closed in, and entered by
doors at the back. Some height above this upper
tier of boxes, and just beneath the long, low clear-
story windows, is a light and narrow gallery
supported from the wall on brackets.

" This gallery appears to be used only for attend-
ing to the windows, being approached by a ladder
staircase, and being too frail to support a number
of people. At the back of the boxes on either
side are the two outer passages for communication
with these box-seats, and corresponding passages
above for the upper seats. One of the lower
passages has a central screen dividing it longitu-
dinally into two, the portion nearer the outside
being used by those actors who wish to pass un-
noticed from end to end of the theatre. The back
portion of the pit opposite to the stage is covered
by an upper gallery, on a level with the upper
boxes, which extends back over the hall and rooms
round the entrance. At the two extremities of
this gallery are several small rooms for stores,
and a sort of oratory, with a shrine, where it is
usual for the proprietors and actors to supplicate
success from some deity.

" The appearance of the whole inside of the
theatre is extremely plain, and devoid of finish
or ornament. The large tie-beams of the roof,
of heavy, unsquared timber, are generally visible
below a rough boarded ceiling. In some cases,
the boarding is placed below the tie-beams, and is
slightly ornamented with thin ribs. The heavy
timbers of the roof contrast greatly with the frail
posts and filling-in which form the walls of support.

^Sii

The fronts of the upper seats and the gallery front
have sometimes a moulded hand-rail, with moulded
or carved supports, but in other respects the interior
has few embellishments, except in the scenery and
hangings of the stage.

*' Considerable room is taken up by the stage,
which occupies nearly the whole of the further
end of the building. In addition, there are a few
actors' dressing-rooms, bath-rooms, and small stair-
cases leading to the principal rooms above. These
upper rooms are larger, and occupy a portion of
the space which below is given to the stage for
the purpose of moving the scenery and working
the turn-tables. The principal actors have separate
dressing-rooms — a hairdresser, and quite a number
of attendants ; there is a larger room common to
inferior actors. These rooms at the back of the
stage are in some cases arranged in three low
stories.

**Thc staircases of approach from one floor to
another consist of two strings with treads, and no
risers or handrail, placed to a steep slope.

"The height of the stage opening is about i6
feet from the stage fioor, which is about i8 inches
below the eye of those seated in the front of the pit.
The platform of the stage, which has no inclina-
tion, comes well forward beyond the curtain open-
ing, forming a wide passage in front communicating
with the passages through the pit. The stage is
provided with one or two concentric turn-tables
coming out to the front, and by the revolution
of these the scene is sometimes quickly changed.
The front scene will hide the scene behind, which

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146 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

is prepared in readiness, and then the whole is
moved round.

" The representation of an interior scene upon
the stage as we should make it, namely, by convert-
ing the whole stage into a single room by means
of side and back scenes, is never attempted, and
is scarcely necessary on account of the facility of
representing exterior and interior together. A
Japanese house has low rooms, is often only of one
story, and is mostly thrown entirely open in the
front.

" Even in the cold weather it is quite common
to see the whole front of a house thrown quite
open by removing or sliding back the light paper
slides (Mo/';j), of which nearly the whole front
consists. In stormy weather, either cane blinds
arc hung outside of the paper slides, or else the
whole is closed in by wooden shutters called amnios
(rain shutters) placed outside, keeping out light
and air, a small quantity of light being admitted
from some small side windows, or by a small
portion in front not being quite shut in.

" In palaces or the residences of men of rank,
the rooms are grouped together and the block
surrounded on all four sides by a wide boarded
passage reached by a flight of wooden steps from
the grounds. This passage is sometimes double
the outer and narrower portion, having a balustrade
corresponding to the handrail of the steps, and the
inner portions bounded by posts filled in above
with plaster, and supporting the eaves of the roof.
The spaces between these posts are often entirely
open, but they can be filled in with shojis and amados.

JS&

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HIS MATERIALS 147

The internal posts of the passage forming the
walls of the rooms can also be filled in or left
open according to the weather, so that on a fine
summer's day the whole interior can be thrown
open, presenting a vista of matted rooms, and
groups of posts.

" It is such a view as this that is given to the
audience in a theatre. The whole front or end
of a house is represented on the stage from ground
to ceiling line by means of a light wooden con-
struction somewhat smaller in scale than an actual
building. The front thrown open will present to
view the interior rooms in which the acting takes
place, prolonged sometimes into the semblance of
a vista of rooms, by means of painted scenes at
ihe back.

" The perspective of such painted scenes is
mostly correct, erring rather in being too sudden.
The turn-tables upon which such constructions are
placed enables them to be quickly moved to the
back by a half revolution, revealing the next scene,
which will have been meanwhile prepared behind
it. On the front part of the stage, side-scenes,
shrubs, or flowers will be placed to form a fore-
ground. The stage-curtain, generally having some
simple conventional device in colour upon it, is
drawn forward by attendants at the close of the
scene.

" At the left-hand side of the stage is a space
for the orchestra, who play drums, flutes, and
stringed instruments, and who partly explain the
acting, and comment upon it, after the manner
of the Greek chorus.

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!48 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

" In addition to this orchestra there is a little
gallery on the right-hand side of the stage, some
lo feet from the ground, in which two musicians
are seated, who accompany the performance. One
of these men plays a stringed instrument (samisen),
and the other accompanies the music at intervals
with singing and intoned exclamations. They
are sometimes visible to the audience, and some-
times screened by cane blinds, through which they
can see without being seen ; for it is necessary for
them to watch the movement of actors upon the
stage.

"An ordinary theatre has no proper provision
for artificial lighting, for the performance generally
takes place only during the daytime, when the place
is lighted by side and end windows just below the
caves.

" In case of a play being prolonged till after
dark, a miserably inefficient Hght is obtained by
a row of candles placed in front of the stage ;
besides which a candle fixed to a rod is carried
about by an attendant, and held in front of the
particular actor who is speaking, in order better
lo illuminate him.

" Another peculiarity is the presence on the
stage of sundry boys dressed in black, with loose
black caps, indicating that they are to be supposed
invisible. They crouch about behind the actors
to remove from the stage anything that is to be
dispensed with, or to place a low seat or support
under an actor who has to take up a position for
any length of time. Most of the plays enacted
are taken from Japanese history, and a visit to the

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HIS MATERIALS 149

theatre is now the best opportunity of realising the
customs, habits, etiquette, and costumes of ancient
times.

" It is said that the representations may be relied
upon as correct. With the profession of an actor,
as with other professions in this country, the
business has hitherto been hereditary, and instruc-
tion has been personally given or handed down in
manuscript. This accounts to a great extent for
the want of really good and exhaustive treatises
upon the dramatic and other arts, in which the
people have shown at times remarkable skill. The
dramatic art of Japan may be said to hold the same
comparison with our modern European drama as
medieval decorative painting does with the highly
naturalistic picture of to-day. The story is told
forcibly ; the action of body and of feature is
what we should call exaggerated ; the impression of
sorrow or despair is aided by weird, doleful music,
and by the sympathetic wailing of the chorus ;
and sometimes acute feminine grief is pictured by
a dance in which the hands are wrung and the
body writhes in painful action, accompanied by
sobs and snatches of wild song.

" There are dances expressive of grace and
beauty, of humour, or of grief ; unnatural perhaps,
but unmistakably highly effective in drawing the
sympathy of the spectators and conventionally
assisting the effect of the play. So forcible is the
effect produced that a foreigner, unable to follow
much that is said, will find himself worked into
sad or pleasurable excitement fully in sympathy
with the action of the play."

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150 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

A fact in Professor Conder's description, worthy
of notice, is the use of the revolving stage, an appli-
ance over which Europe is now going crazy. The
Japanese set this turn-table stage with portable
screens capable of suggesting a variety of effects.
Another noticeable fact is that the "No" drama
is mystical and medieval and has always been the
drama of the elite. With regard to the drama-
dance, it should be explained that it is different
from that of Western nations. It is not only
pantomimic, but every movement means some-
thing. The Japanese have, in fact, invented an
exclusive and eloquent language of gesture, which
it would take Western peoples centuries to learn.
Indeed, it is doubtful whether the Japanese theatre
form of representation and interpretation can ever
be exported.

The "Miracle" and "Morality" Stages

The drama in England is said to have begun with
the Miracle Play. Thus in its early stage the drama
was a powerful instrument in the hands of the
clergy for promoting religious ideals. Later it he-
came laicised in the Moralities and took the form
of a School of Virtue. In the Paris Opera House
museum there is a model of the stage of a Miracle
Play. This particular stage is composed of three
stages arranged side by side. The centre is
occupied by God in Heaven, seated on the throne
of judgment and surrounded by an angelic host.
To the right is Earth, and to the left is the Mouth
of Hell, into which the Devil is shooting the unre-
gcnerate. The Miracle stage varies, and sometimes

HIS MATERIALS

^P the triple bill is represented on three separate plat-
^ forms, with Heaven above. Earth below, and Hell
underneath. This simultaneous arrangement of the
whole religious drama, with its set pieces enabUng
one to tour the whole world of space at once, was
in full view throughout the entire action, each
scene playing its part in turn. Thus the Deity
first appeared on the top shelf or in the centre
compartment, and explained the working and
purpose of Heaven. Then came the Devil setting
forth the advantages of Hell. Thirdly came Adam
and Eve and the Deity expatiating on the creation
and beauties of Paradise. So, in this fashion, the
chief events recorded in the Bible were related in
more or less lively dialogue. In short, the Mystery
Play was the Bible epic played with a cinemato-
graphic background. It was history brought up
to date, and thereby it derived its great vitality.
Like the Commedia dell' Arte it was imbued
with the spirit of the time, which enabled it to
persist for two or three centuries, influencing the
"Moralities" and inspiring such lasting produc-
tions as Everyman. The Morality Play followed.
It was born of the new sceptical adjustment. The
Heaven of the Miracle Play got mislaid, and men
grew uncertain where Paradise was. The age of
the Morality Play was, in fact, the age of Paradise
Last. With the new moral awakening came a
change of symbols, and the sacred and profane
figures of the Miracle Play were replaced by the
abstract figures, Truth, Virtue, Justice, and so forth.
The vitality of the Morality Play was even greater
^^Chan that of the Miracle Play, for if we examine

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IJ2 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

modern melodrama we shall still find " The
Morality " in our midst. What difference is there,
indeed, between the old moralities with their per-
sonifications and the personifications to be found
in modern melodrama. The latter is not even
a morality disguised. Both are equally unreal,
and modern melodrama would be far more inter-
esting if only it would recognise this and present
its characters clothed in the fancies of antiquity.
Thus it might give us a mixture of miracle and
morality, the heroine (Virtue) with wings and a
nimbus, the hero (Good) clothed in shining
armour, the villain (Evil) with horns and a tail,
his chief assistant (Intemperance) as a dragon
pasturing upon the hero's estates, and " Little
Willie" (Innocence) as a fat cherub who di
and is taken up aloft by an angeUc choir. For
local colour there would be red fire, the smell of
brimstone, and all the rest of the devilry. The
Morality Play was represented on a crude stage
similar to the Miracle stage. The Moralities
were mostly played in front of or inside a public
building, a church or place of worship, where the
scenes from cathedral windows and sculptured
porches had an appropriate background. They
were also hawked about from place to place on
a barrow, so to speak, and set up in Elizabethan
interiors wherever there was room and a request for
them. It is contended that in the crude but in
most cases beautiful decorations of the Miracle
and Morality stages, and in the costumes worn
by the players is to be found the beginning
of an Art of the Theatre in England. The

^-^^

contention is doubtless true, for the Miracles
and Moralities were contemporaries with the great
Art and Craft period of our history.

In some countries the Mystery Play stage was
usually a very long platform with a building,
such as a church, for background. The spectators
were seated in front of this platform. This long
stage was divided into many compartments, pro-
viding a gradual transition from heaven to hell.
Evidences of this performance are to be found
in the dramatic altar screens still preserved in
Continental cities.

I The Early Italian Stage

The most interesting period of the Italian stage
is that of the Commedia dell' Arte renaissance,
which comes between the Moralities and Mysteries
and the Elizabethan stages. It was the great
period of the drama of Harlequin, Pantaloon, and
Columbine. The Commedia dell' Arte was the
beginning of the great Folk drama, just as the
Greek, Indian, Chinese, and Japanese drama-dance
was the beginning of the Religious drama.
Materials for a brief but interesting chapter on
the history of this stage are to be found in
recent numbers of The Mask. Let me quote some
of the principal points. The Commedia dell' Arte
was a break away from the conventional drama in
answer to a demand for a representation of con-
temporary life. " It was the name given to the
improvised performances of the professional actors
and stage-managers." " It was a theatre which
ippealed to the ordinary public, to the man of

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154 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

culture, and to the actors themselves." " These
actors were so excellent, so intelligent, perceived
so well the advantage of communicating directly
with their public instead of through the medium
of a material foreign to themselves." " Instead of
one actor playing many parts he played but one."
A list of parts is given, from which it appears
that Punch or any other part may be played in
a dozen different ways according to its many and
varied moods. Here was the beginning of the
Repertory Theatre. Imagine all the interpre-
tations of Hamlet — mad, sane, philosophic,
philosophic-humorous, and so forth — being given
by one man, a sort of modern Frigoli who changes
his part with his dress, and there you have it.
The actors " were free to say what they liked ; they
were free to do what they liked ; they had only to let
their feelings escape at the right moment, and to
obey the stage- manager." Their freedom was limited
by the stage-manager. Their intentions were given
direction by "a piece of paper pinned up at each
side of the stage. The actor had only to study
this paper carefully after the stage-manager had
composed it carefully. If this master of the
ceremonies had genius, he composed it so that
the performance became natural, the passion
weaving these foolish and profound figures into
a pattern." The stage-manager was the pattern-
director of Mr Craig's dreams. One of the
greatest of the Commedia dell' Arte scenario con-
structors was Gozzi. His Turandot, upon which,
the hand of Schiller fell heavily, was revived by
Max Reinhardt, while an entire number of the

^bvGofl

Blatter des Deutschen Theaters was devoted to its
exposition. The first article opens with the
significant words, " Gozzi's work is dead." Says
Philippe Monnier : "The Italian Comedy dell' Arte,
the Italian Comedy of improvisation, of masks,
of plots and incidents (taken from novels)
developed along parallel lines with the Italian
Comedy written in the study. It died with the
ancien regime" Then in a vivid passage he
describes its origin, "stage," and methods: "To
set it in its proper frame, we must reconstruct for
ourselves an Italian fair with all its wild excite-
ment. ... A gibbet was outlined against the
sky. Strings of onions hung from pedlars' stalls.
Boys and dogs and hedge-priests, servants and
wandering merchants mixed upon the stage.
Cripples of every kind drawled out their prayers.
Men in plumed hats stood, hand in pocket,
spitting upon the ground ; few had the good
taste to step aside. ... In the glare and hubbub
I of these orgies, to the accompaniment of blows
' given by insulted servant-girls, amid cries and
stinks, among cheats and swindlers, that strange,
monstrous, savage growth burst forth, with the
gestures of an artist, and the soul of a child.
Starting from some such fair of the Impruneta,
Italian comedy spread through all the land. A
yoke of oxen dragged round its chariot with its
canvas awning. Beneath the canvas Isabella
suckled her child. At each rise in the road the
actors got down and pushed against the wheels.
They knew chance resting - places, and strange
'lostelries, all the hazards of the great roads."

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^lOS

H Shak
^H poini
^L shift

156 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

The passage proceeds to relate how these wander-
ing sons " of night and mud " found " the great
gates of the palaces opened to them and entered
in." Everywhere they were received by royal
personages with open arms. Thus they travelled
across Europe, influencing the great dramatists,
Shakespeare, Moliere, and the rest, partly rose again
through Goldoni, and finally died.

The Shakespearean Stage
It is not necessary to dwell upon the influence
exerted by the Commedia dell' Arte on Shake-
speare, nor upon the resemblances between the
two. Like the Commedia, Shakespeare drew his
plots from all sources. There is a resemblance
between some of his types and those of the
Commedia ; he drew his inspiration from the
time ; his drama was national, and in a sense a break
away from a more conventionalised form ; many of
his characters were spontaneous and life-like, so life-
like, in fact, that it was difficult to believe they had
not been transferred from the street to the stage.
To-day the exponents of characters are practically
transferred from the street to the stage, as anyone
that produces ultra-realistic plays will tell you.
Furthermore, there was the Commedia element
of broad humanity in Shakespeare's plays, and the
plays themselves appealed to the ordinary public,
man of culture, and to the actor. The point of
chief interest here is the form and working of the
Shakespeare stage. The theories surrounding this
point are innumerable. Was the stage a make-
shift one } Was it a stage for all time, whose

HIS MATERIALS 157

possibilities have never yet been fully realised ?
Did Shakespeare write for a peculiar form of stage
with a forced method of staging constantly before
him ? Or was invention busy devising a new
and more suitable playhouse for him ? Opinion is
divided on these questions. It may or may not
be true that Shakespeare did not bother about a
theatre, but had a platform, and that was all that
was necessary. It may or may not be true that
Shakespeare considered every condition under which
his plays were to be produced, and made every
allowance for the open platform with the cur-
tained recess at the back, and a balcony, and for
the effects of direct sunlight, as his theatre was
open to the sky. And it may be true that Shake-
speare was only concerned with his verse, knowing
that the spectator came to hear, not to see. There
are at least three facts which should determine the
answer. The first is that Shakespeare thoroughly
knew his theatre. Like Max Reinhardt, he began
as a call-boy, from thence progressed to actor.
He took shares in theatres and founded the first
theatrical trust, in order to prevent the church
party opposing him in places of public worship.
In time he acquired property and became one of
those banes of the economic socialist, a bloated
capitalist and monopolist. We have no record of
what the Elizabethan "socialists" thought of
Shakespeare, but it is probable they blessed him
with a curse, as a certain section of socialists are
now blessing the capitalist dramatist, George
Bernard Shaw. If Shakespeare were alive to-day,
he would doubtless be a great admirer of Frohman,

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158 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

the American octopus. Another fact is that the
Shakespearean theatre was not a fixed affair. The
Globe, for instance, was a new invention containing
innovations of which Shakespeare availed himself,
just as the Elizabethan age was a new age of
drugging. Tea arrived with the Dutch East India
Company, tobacco with Raleigh, and the intimate
drama with Shakespeare. A third fact is that
Shakespeare was not the literary director obsessed
by the belief that he has a vision. Though it is
true that his chief contacts are literary, and he
has drunk at all sources, Sophocles, Euripides,
Seneca, Plautus, Cicero, Horace, Catullus, Virgil,
Ovid, Lucretius, Tibullus, Pliny, Plato, and Mon-
taigne ; though, too, he " lifted " plays bodily, took
characters and dialogues from old tales and sagas, and
was greatly influenced by this great man and that,
by Marlowe, whose spell of scepticism and rhythm
is over some of his later plays ; yet he poured forth
plays that were neither literary nor moral, but a
compound of his own distilled for his own theatre.
To-day the Elizabethan stage is being approached
from all sides, and diverse opinions are being
expressed concerning its form and utility. The
latest re-interpretation of the stage comes from
architect Zeh of Munich, who is convinced that
though the Elizabethan stage was so admirably pro-
portioned, apparently it was only primitive, and
its advantage lay in the variety of its scenic possi-
bilities. It has all along been misinterpreted. In
this architectural view we see a tendency not to
create but to improve on earlier forms. The
trchxological view is divided. Scholars and

critics believe that on the one hand the Eliza-
bethan stage was perfect and it should not be
re-adapted. Others believe it was primitive
and should be brought up to date. Hence the
many new Shakespearean stages at Munich, Buda-
Pcsth, and elsewhere. A very excellent description
of the actual stage is given in the following notes
by Mr F. J. Harvey Darton, who is writing about
a model of the stage designed according to the
knowledge of Mr W. Poel.

*' The stage used is designed according to the
theories of Mr William Poel and other scholars
as to what an Ehzabethan stage really was like ;
it is only fair to say that different opinions are
Strongly held. The view here taken is that the
' traverse,' or curtain in the middle of the stage,
stretched between two solid fixed pillars, was
meant to give the actors and the playwright a
chance of using different scenes for different
places ; there was no painted scenery to guide
the audience, and no front curtain to lower to
show the lapse of time or change of scene ; the
audience stood or were seated on three sides of
the stage.

" On this theory there were three possible
scenes : (i.) in front of the ' traverse,' when the
curtain was closed. This might be a road, a
plain, a forest glade, or any more or less open
scene, (ii.) In front and behind the line of the
traverse, the curtain being open, so that the whole
stage up to the back wall could be used. This
would be employed for interiors, or large Im-
portant scenes. (iii.) There was also a gallery

iM,Coc>

!6o THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

or balcony at the back, in which apparently
musicians sat, or possibly even spectators. Prob-
ably this was used wherever a high scene was
needed, e,g., Juliet's balcony, or the walls of
Angiers.

" With these three possible scenes, the actor
could give the audience the idea of a change of
place without difficulty. He could, for instance,
in Scene (i.) say, ' I'll to the king at Pontefract,'
and go off ; the traverse curtain would then
open, and create Scene (ii.), and the king would
be seen in an obviously different place — which it
would not require much imagination to consider
Pontefract ; presently the first actor would come
in, and he would clearly have come from some-
where else — from Scene (i.). Thus scene after
scene could be played on alternate stages, or, if
the place was supposed to be the same for several
scenes {as in As Tou hike It, for example), on
the same portion of the stage. There would
be no need to wait for scenery to be moved,
and the whole play could be acted without an
interval.

"It may be mentioned, perhaps, that Shake-
speare nearly always makes it clear in the dialogue
where the speakers are supposed to be. Orlando,
in As Tou Like It, says at once, ' He keeps me
rustically at home,^ and later, to Oliver, ' I am here
in your orchard ' ; King John begins with the
reception of an embassy from France, and the
dialogue clearly shows that John is in his own
kingdom, and so on. The perfect stagecraft of
Sha!kespeare, and his extraordinary knowledge of

HIS MATERIALS

what was essential from the audience's point of
view, are excellently brought out by acting the
plays in accordance with this theory of the
Elizabethan stage.

" There were several theatres in Shakespeare's
London. Those whose site is most easily identi-
fied now were the ' Curtain * and ' The Theater,'
both close to the present Curtain Road, Shore-
ditch, and the 'Globe,' on Bankside, which is
commemorated by a tablet in the wall of Barclay's
Brewery, Park Street, Southwark (on the south-
cast side of Southwark Bridge). Other theatres
of Shakespeare's day or a little later were at
Newington Butts, Cripplegate (the ' Fortune '),
Bankside (the ' Rose,' the ' Hope,' and the
'Swan'), Blackfriars, Clerkenwell (the 'Red
Bull'), and Drury Lane (the 'Cockpit'),"

The Red Bull Playhouse was originally an
inn-yard theatre with an open-air platform or
stage, of which the inn formed the back and
sides. There was a resemblance between this
open-air theatre and the house-yard theatres of
Spain.

In De Witt's description of the Elizabethan
playhouse there are some interesting facts on
dimensions. Thus we learn that the stage of the
Fortune Theatre was 43 feet long, and in breadth
extended to the middle of the " yard " — that is,
43 feet long and 27^ feet deep. The proscenium
opening of the modern theatre is from 30 to 40
feet. Mr John Corbin, to whom I am indebted
for a copy of his article " Shakespeare and the
Plastic Stage," published in the Atlantic Monthljy

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1 62 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

is of the opinion that playhouses like the Swan,
the Fortune, and the Globe, were built on a
radically different plan from the other existing
theatres. "The stage was a platform, extending,
as an apron, to the middle of the pit, so that the
spectators viewed it from all points of the compass,
except only the narrow surface separating the
stage from the tiring-house — and even this, at
least after 1600, was at times invaded by the
public. No proscenium arch was possible, no
wings, and no flies — and consequently no properly
pictorial illusion. Opinions on the question of
Shakespeare and scenery are also greatly at vari-
ance. There are those who believe that Shake-
speare used no scenery — George Brandes, Sir Sidney
Lee, William Poel — and those who believe
otherwise — Professor Dowden, John Addington
Symonds, and others. Then there are the advo-
cates of spectacle — Sir Herbert Tree, for instance —
who endeavour to prove that Shakespeare himself
would have employed the modern developments of
scenic appliances. Others go so far as to say that
Shakespeare justified them. Then there are those
who say that Shakespeare's verse was sufficient to
rivet the attention of the audience, and scenery
would only have distracted the mind of the spec-
tator from the jumble of unconnected incidents
of the earlier plays. In fact, his verbal scene-
painting was sufficient. Beyond these there are
some who refer to the enormous influence of
Shakespeare himself as a reformer in stage-manage-
ment. In regard to naturalness and unity of
scheme and the arrangement of his play or stage-

^^P prod I

^" the r

HIS MATERIALS 163

production he was far ahead of his period ; while
the red-hot Shakespearean maintains that as stage-
craftsman he was far ahead not only of his day but
of ours. What he has done and what he is going
to do for Germany is too stupendous for words.
True, Shakespeare knew nothing about the modern
unity in variety of stage-setting. He did not use
a revolving stage, but he used alternate stages,
which, combined with the rapidly spoken scenic
descriptions, solved the problem of quick changes.
But, after all, mechanical stage devices are as old
as the stage itself ; they were employed by the
Greeks ; and the man who was the first to string
together a vast quantity of incoherent, unconnected
scenes was no doubt ingenious enough to set them
moving with a rapidity quite out of question with
a succession of realistic scenes. So why worry over
Shakespeare in this or other directions F We have
but one question to ask Shakespeare and the rest
of the Old Masters : " What is your individual
value to us ? Have you anything to contribute
towards the reform movement in our theatre f "
If they say " No," then the proper comment is
" Get out ! " Probably the truth is that they have
nothing but a few suggestions to offer. Three of
the present suggestions are towards: (i) doing
away with the proscenium (or picture-frame), thus
making the stage and auditorium one, so that the
audience may move in the same world as the
actors ; (2) the devising of means of a more rapid
change of scene ; and (3) the development of the
simphfied stage.

Digitized iiy Goo;

i64 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

The MoLifeREAN Stage
The stage of Moliere, the classical dramatist of
France, stood to French drama in much the same
relation as the EHzabethan stage stood to English
drama. There was the same scenic austerity, and
the same absence of spectacle. There was no
music during the performance. The spectators
sat on the stage and probably behaved as badly as
the Elizabethans, who ate and drank quite regard-
less of the acting. The noteworthy fact of the
Commedia dell' Arte, the Elizabethan and Moliere
stages, was the intimacy between the actors and the
audience. The intimacy of the first two was of
the rough and tumble fair order. The simplicity
of the Moliere stage also recalled that of the
Commedia dell' Arte, many of whose conventions
Moliere is said to have borrowed. Some historians
go so far as to charge him with building his
theatre out of the materials supplied by the Italian
Comedy. Without the Commedia dell' Arte
there would have been no Moliere. But whether
" the theatre of Moliere was the most exquisite
fruit of the Commedia " is doubtful. It is highly
probable that Moliere's comic genius would have
found an outlet even if the Italians had never
existed. Moliere, like his contemporary wits of
the Court of Louis XIV., punctured the vanity of
pedantry even to the point of threatening sound
learning. The repudiation of the artificial and
superficial in French tradition was his main theme,
which he expressed in comedy, and he is charged
, with using the machinery of the Commedia

byGo^lll^^l

synopses, scenes, episodes, and types for the
purpose of " manufacturing " such plays as Tar-
tuffe, George "DatiJin, Scapw, le Malade Imaginaire^
etc. I think it would be safer to say that what
Moliere did copy was the attempt of both Eliza-
bethan and Italian comedy to break away from
stilted artificiality and to adopt a more natural
manner of representation. Indeed, naturalism
appears to be at the root of all the creative epochs
of the drama. As the ancient and superficial manner
of representation became apparent to live minds, so
they discarded it for a more natural manner. Thus
creative drama has ever been inspired by "the
time." The vehemence of life which Moliere put
into his valets was in Moliere himself and of his
time, or it would not have appeared as vehemence
of life. You cannot copy the vehemence of life of
one age and make it appear the vehemence of life
of your age. It is sheer stupidity to say you can.

An idea of the formation and working of the
Moliere stage may be gathered from the following
passage taken from Karl Mantzius' notable work : —

" Whether this development of stage decoration
has been a reform of dramatic art, and whether
we may be certain that the modern theatre, with
all its perfection in the way of picturesque effects,
ingenious mechanisms, and magnificent light,
idealises the ideal stage, is a great question.
Who knows whether we shall not some day pre-
fer to return to a stage which affords the best
conditions for seeing and hearing the art of the
author naked and undisguised rather than to go
on developing a decorative scenery which sectn&

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i66 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

more calculated to throw a veil over the defects
of both. . . ." It was during the Italian age of
complicated scenery that the stage took the shape
which it has nowadays. "It was no longer a
projecting platform surrounded by the audience
on three sides. It was a separate space, an enor-
mous square box, the first wall of which had
been removed, and in the inside of which the plays
were presented to the spectators like pictures against
a background. . . . France soon adopted the
Italian system, which supplanted both the French
platform stage and IS decor simultane ; even plays
which seemed written and calculated for the latter
form of stage were now performed with the simple,
regular, and invariably recurring scenes: 'a street,'
' a public place,' or ' a classical colonnade ' and
' a forest ' ; and in addition to these a room
with five doors symmetrically placed — one in the
background, two ' upper entrances ' and two
* lower entrances,' — a scene which is still used in
several of Moliere's comedies, such as Tartuffe,
le Misanthrope, tAvare, etc. These plays, indeed,
are so completely adapted to this scene that they
cannot be performed with any others."

It should be mentioned that the stage here
referred to is the later one employed by Moliere.
His first acquaintance with the theatre was as a
strolling player and manager of the Thedtre
lUustre. This theatre travelled about the country
in a lumbering cart, erecting its stage in tennis
courts. Perrault tells us what the arrangements of
this theatre were in Moliere's early time. Tapes-
tries were hung round the stage, and entrances j

iiyCoog

HIS MATERIALS 167

and exits were made by struggling through the
heavy curtains, which often knocked off the hat of
a comedian, or gave a strange cock to the helmet of
a warrior or a god. The lights were candles stuck
in tin sconces at the back and sides, but luxury
sometimes went so far that a chandelier of four
candles was suspended from the roof. At intervals
the candles were let down by a rope and pulley,
and anyone within easy reach snuffed them with
his fingers. A flute and tambour, or two fiddles,
supplied the music. The highest prices were paid
for seats in the dedan (cost of admission fivepence) ;
for the privilege of standing up in the pit two-
pence-halfpenny was the charge. The doors
opened at one o'clock ; the curtain rose at two.

Goethe's Stage

The later stage of Goethe represents another
break with tradition in favour of naturalism. In
this direction Goethe derived a great deal from
Shakespeare. He was very old when he received
his legacy- He was, in fact, in his seventy-seventh
year when the true nature of Elizabethan stage-
craft became apparent to him and revolutionised
his conception of the stage. The quarto which
came to his notice revealed that the stage direc-
tions of the play indicated neither locality nor
decorations, and was innocent of act and scene
division. Thus Goethe saw that the imagination
of the spectator was left unfettered to follow the
full course of the author's imagination. Though
a newer edition of the quarto in which the play was
divided into acts and scenes, and its localities and

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i68 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

decorations were indicated, came into Goethe'shands,
he ignored the alterations, and decided to follow
the first quarto, and considered that the plain.
Elizabethan stage was the right thing. Had he
come into contact earlier with the actual Shake-
spearean stage, he would have left dramas in place
of autobiographies which, like Faast, took him the
greater part of his life to write. Thus through
an acquaintance with Shakespearean stagecraft
Goethe conceived the modern idea of intimacy
which he, together with Schiller, applied to the
theatre with a view to reforming it. They believed
that a return to the extreme naturalism and simpli-
city of representation of earher times was necessary
to the life of the drama. One of the conditions
of the reform was that the spectator and player
should be brought as closely together as possible.
Accordingly, under the direction of Goethe, an
architect, Schenkel, planned a theatre containing
new features, or rather features based upon disused
conventions. One of the latter was the revival in
a modified form of the curved or " apron " stage,
which projected into the auditorium, after the
manner of that of the old Globe Theatre. By
such means the spectator and actor were to be
brought together and the receptivity of the former
increased by contact and simplicity, instead of being
decreased by distance and over-elaboration of detail.
The Goethe-Schenkel theatre was built at Weimar.

The Wagnerian Stage
2 find Wagner and his music-drama ,

theory feeding on the unceasing diet of revolt, and j

ni,:iiP,-jh,.G00^

HIS MATERIALS 169

^Bstriving to set music free of its shackles. Wagner
^" accepted Goethe's idea and expressed it in his own
way. He agreed that the reality of the drama
needed a stage as near the spectator as possible.
But he felt that it is different with opera,
which, being designed to produce illusion — to he
attained by a voluptuous mingling of all forms of art,
under whose spell men would reach an emotional
union — requires that the stage picture should be
removed as far from the spectator as possible.
With this idea in his mind he called in the aid of
^^ an architect, and together they set to work to con-
^B struct a new theatre. The problem which Wagner
^B Bought to solve in this theatre was intimacy. The
exterior was designed to conform to the interior,
which was constructed solely to preserve in the
spectator the mood created by the music-drama.
The structure of the interior had several innova-
tions. The orchestra was sunk beneath the level
of the stage. There were no circles, as in our
theatres, the tiers of seats, circles, and galleries, one
above the other, were abolished, and the newer
amphitheatre, consisting of rows of seats rising
from the sunken orchestra to the single row of
boxes at the back, was established. Each seat in
this amphitheatre was self-contained, so as to allow
each spectator to live in his own world of imagi-
nation. A second proscenium was introduced — a
front one, unlighted, and designed to divide the
stage from the audience and to create the desired
effect of distance. Wagner named it the " Mystischcr
Abgrund." To him it separated the real from the

1 ideal and added mystery to the scene and acting. To
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lyo THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

break the monotony of the wall space in the audi-
torium columnar projections were added. But on
the whole the architectural features were not beauti-
ful. They have been greatly modified in other
theatres built according to the Semper-Wagner
model. Both the Wagnerian and the Shakespearean
stages are greatly influencing Germany at present.
The Wagnerian auditorium is springing up every-
where. Professor Max Littmann is busy embodying
its principles in his theatres, as may be seen at the
Kunstler Theater, Munich, and the Schiller Theater,
Charlottenburg.

The following note on the structure of Wagner's
theatre, by Mr Edwin O. Sachs, is of interest.
" The theatre, which stands on a height a little
under a mile from the town, is built from the plans
of Gustav Semper, the idea of the design being
Wagner's own, an experiment indeed, but one
which succeeded beyond all expectation. The
seats are arranged on a kind of sloping wedge in
such a manner that everyone has an almost equally
good view of the stage, for there are no boxes,
and the only galleries are quite at the back, one,
the Fiirstenloge, being reserved for distinguished
guests, the other, above it, for the townspeople.
Immediately in front of the foremost row of seats
a hood or sloping screen of wood covers a part of,
the orchestra, and another hood of similar shape
starts from the front of the stage at a slightly lower
level. Thus, there is left a space between the two
hoods through which the sound of the orchestra
ascends with wonderful blended effect."

^^Gq

■ Ther

HIS MATERIALS

The Moscow and Wyspianski Stages
There is very little to be said about either of
these stages. The Moscow stage is of the con-
ventional type. It is very large, well equipped
with the latest mechanical devices, and has a
revolving section. The revolving stage was in-
vented by the Japanese, and the idea made Its way
to Munich, where it was realised by Lautenschlager.
In the pursuit of artistic expression in the Moscow
Theatre, there is no entre-act music, the audience
does not applaud, and there are no calls before the
curtain. The original theatre of Wyspianski had
an illusion stage, which was decorated with the
symbolic scenery designed and painted by Wyspian-
ski. The theatre of Wyspianski, which the Polish
painter aimed to make the theatre of the Polish
conscience, has disseminated the seeds of the new
plastic stage, some of which have flown to Moscow.

Ibsen and Contemporary Stages
The contemporary stage is an offshoot of the
Italian Renaissance stage, which has culminated in
the peep-show or picture stage. It is used for every
kind of drama, old and new, both with and with-
out form, drama all technique (Pinero), and drama
which has no technique to speak of, no plot, no
strong dramatic crises, no construction, a formless
drama nurtured by the Court Theatre, London,
and of which Mr Bernard Shaw's later go-
as-you-please discussion - demonstrations are the
most extravagant development. A discontent with
"lis present-day form of stage has led reformers
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172 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

into an age of experiment. Ibsen might have been
in the van of these reformers by devising a circular
stage to give effect to his conception of sculptured
figures, or figures seen in the round and not in the
flat, as most dramatists see them ; but he preferred
to transfer the centre of his theatrical hfe from
the theatre to the library. Hence, the Ibsen
stage has yet to be born. When it is, the con-
ception of dramatic action laid entirely within the
characters, aided by the revelation of music and
the plastic forms of art, will carry the action of
the drama and its representation as much beyond
Wagner as Wagner carried them beyond the Greeks,
when he sought the aid of modern forms of art
and music in order to conceive a new dramatic
form.

The said age of experiment has given birth to
various reform stages which Dr Carl Hagemann
classifies under the head of revolving stage, idealistic
stage, illusion stage, relief stage (Munich), picture
stage, sunken stage, moving stage, Wagner stage, etc.

Max Reinhardt is among those who are actively
searching for a new stage. His search has carried
him in many directions, into many countries. He
is testing in turn the old and new reform stages,
from the Greek stage in its final form under
Sophocles and Euripides to the Shakespearean stage
in its newest form as developed by Drs Kilian and
Klein from the primitive reactionary stage devised
by Jacza Savits. In doing so he is gradually
evolving a form of stage suited to his idea that
" the theatre belongs to the theatre."

HIS RESOURCES

TAX Reinhardt has two theatres, the Deutsches
Theater and the adjoining Kammerspielhaus. These
theatres have three points of general interest. They
are examples of theatres run on a very successful
commercial and artistic basis, perfectly equipped and
organised, and efficiently worked on the repertory
system.

History and Physique

Although the Deutsches Theater is compar-
atively an old-established theatre, its present history,
like that of the Kammerspielhaus, begins with
Reinhardt. For years it was under the direction
of Josef Kainz, the classicist Adolf L'Arronge, and
of Otto Brahm. But it was Reinhardt who
applied to it the revolutionary doctrine that the
theatre is neither a literary nor a moral institution,
that its function is not to educate nor guide human
conduct, nor to uphold mere scribbling for scrib-
bling 's sake.

But the chief historical importance of the
Deutsches Theater is that it is a private theatre,
not a. subsidised one. It is a convincing proof
that it is possible to conduct a theatre on artistic

"73

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174 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

lines, and it gives the lie to the hide-bound Court
and other endowed theatres on the one hand, and
the ginger-bread commercial theatres on the other,
which are run solely for money, and which Froh-
mania has elevated to a superstition in our midst.
The Deutsches is really the intermediate theatre,
demonstrating that it is possible to conduct a
paying theatre on artistic lines. Maybe it is a
stepping-stone to the purely artistic theatre. The
physique of this theatre commands a great deal of
attention. Generally speaking, it is a spacious and
well-appointed house. Its Greek exterior would ap-
pear to symbolise Reinhardt's search for simplicity
and proportion. It is built upon an inexpensive
site out of the main thoroughfare. But the position
does not matter, seeing that the theatre does not
cast its net to catch stray fish. The dimensions
and form of the theatre are determined by function.
As a repertory theatre on a large scale, and one,
moreover, worked on the newest principles, it
requires plenty of stage and store-room for
machinery, scenery, properties, and costumes, and
more especially as each play is given an entirely
new outfit, and is not faked up with old stock
scenery and costumes, as used to be the custom
of stock theatres and is now sometimes that of
English repertory theatres, and always of that
bright particular flower, the Stage Society. One
of the first innovations in the Deutsches Theater
to take one's notice is the revolving stage
with its endless possibilities, and its call upon
the inventiveness of the scenic artist for limit-
less novel effects. Another outstanding feature

n, 1^,-1 M,Coo<;le

■ is tl

HIS RESOURCES 175

the ingenious mechanical contrivances by
which electricity is extensively drawn upon in a
well-organised lighting system. To-day the most
marked efforts in the reform theatre He in the
search for a solution to the problem of lighting.
Years ago Adolphe Appia came forward with
his scheme for reforming the lighting of Wagner's
operas, which was subsequently embodied in his
notable work Die Musik und die Inscenierung. The
work has been freely cited and its influence exerted
in many directions. Then came Fortuny's invention,
aiming to do away with sky-borders and to sub-
stitute a pure white light for the tinted light in
use. Colour is obtained by the light being thrown
first upon reflectors prepared to receive it, and
thereafter upon the scene in such a way that the
tinted light is diffused instead of being focussed
upon certain points, say the backcloth, or the bald
head of the leading man. Forming part of this
system of lighting is a hooded background of white
concrete upon which Fortuny throws his light in
order to obtain vast and very impressive sky effects.
I believe that this hooded horizon, which covers
the back and the part of the stage where the flies
usually are, can be made of a portable material,
that may be closed up out of the way when not
in use. But when I was in Berlin I was only
shown the model made of concrete. This method
of solving the lighting problems has also exerted an
influence here and there. The Deutsches Theater is
provided with a round horizon. As in the Fortuny
system, there is a vast horizon or heaven which
passes round the back and side of the stage. It

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176 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

has a slight dome, but not nearly so marked as
the Fortuny one. This huge segment of a circle
is a light iron structure covered with plaster. On
either side nearest the audience this wall is
supported on columns to allow of the passage of
the scenery on to the " Vorbiihne," or stage
proper. When not hidden by built scenery, these
columns are hidden from the auditorium by
curtains of the same colour as the plaster. Thus
horizon effects can be obtained at any corner or
portion of the stage. This heaven is lighted by
an enormous " Oberlicht " (overlight), placed above
the centre of the stage and so constructed as to
throw its rays of light horizontally and not verti-
cally. In addition there are two large arc lamps
placed on either side of the large light. The
purpose of these lamps is to light the space im-
mediately in front of the heaven, as the "Ober-
licht" is meant to light the round horizon, and
not the stage.

The construction and working of the overlight
is a profound secret, almost as deep indeed as was
once the structure and application of the great grey
screen of Mr Gordon Craig. It was devised by
some one connected with the theatre, and many
persons and some journalists are after its past.
Of course, the journalists will win. The new
conditions of Hghting do not preclude the use
of conventions. Thus there are battens which,
however, are rarely used, except for getting light
at awkward angles. There is also the usual
equipment of movable lamps and footlights.
Reinhardt's use of footlights is interesting. He

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HIS RESOURCES 177

never uses them for exterior scenes if he can
avoid it. He thus gains greatly in natural effect,
and kills the fallacy that intense light is always
needed for outdoor scenes. Thus his use of foot-
lights is almost confined to the lighting of interiors,
where he finds such lighting necessary to modify
the effect of the ceiling on the faces of the
actors. The entire illumination of the scene is
worked by an operator on the stage, and not under
it, as at the Kiinstler Theater. The arc lamps can
be used on resistance, to speak technically, and thus
all kinds of sky effects are obtained. The Deutsches
Theater system of lighting has found its way to
England, and may be trusted to undergo some
development at the capable hands of Mr Basil Dean
of the Liverpool Repertory Theatre. The lighting
at this theatre is already attracting attention, and is
admitted to be the best in the provinces. Birming-
ham has followed Liverpool's lead, having engaged
Mr Dean to apply his practical theory to its new
Repertory Theatre. There will be no further
excuse for Birmingham to grope in theatrical
darkness.

The Repertory System

The history of this system has already been
discussed. The Meiningers revised it, added the
ensemble, and we have seen how Brahm placed it in
Reinhardt's hands to be launched on a prosperous
career. The repertory system is composed of
two parts : players and the pieces they play in.
A repertory theatre may be likened to a wardrobe
to which a fresh set of costumes is added each

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178 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

day. The wearers of these costumes must be
of such adaptable proportions that each can take
down any costume and wear it becomingly. Thus
if to-day one wears a livery of green silk, with
yellow roses as large as spring cabbages stamped
all over it, to-morrow he must put on the vastly
important knee-deep waistcoats, Mechlin ruffles,
the sword, sweat, and other patents of nobility.
Metaphorically speaking, this is what the Deutschcs
Theater players, like those in other German repertory
theatres, have long been accustomed to do, and as
a result the Deutsches Theater acting is remark-
able for its modernity, resource, versatility, and
spontaneity.

The repertory " system is not new. But the
modern form of this system is not the same as the
old or " stock " one. The stock company system
succeeded the circuit or strolling players system
which had been in existence from pre-Restoration
times. From the Restoration till late in the nine-
teenth century most of the great towns of this
country contained an established theatre in which
stock companies played for a season at a time ;
while the smaller towns provided centres for
strollers from whose ranks the stock companies
were recruited, just as the stock companies pro-
vided a source to which the London patent theatres
went for their supply of talent. The stock com-
pany was usually composed of twelve or more
stationary types of players. Each player assumed
one line of business and took no other. Thus there
was the " leading " man, the " heavy " man, the
'juvenile" man, the "light" and " low " comedians,

11, Goo;

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HIS RESOURCES 179

Ithe "walking" gent, the "first" and "general"
utility men, the "leading" lady, the "heavy"
woman, the "old" woman, the "utility" and
"walking" ladies, the "chambermaid," and so on.
The " bill " was changed three or more times a week.
Plays were put on at a moment's notice, thus leav-
ing very little time for study. As a result, the
performances were usually of the go-as-you-please
order, the parts being played by actors of the rant
and furious school, whose movements were afflicted
with a stage stalk, who spoke with strange accents
and seldom knew their parts. Under the stock
system the scenery, costumes, and appointments also
assumed the go-as-you-please manner, being amaz-
ingly inappropriate, as well as adaptable to all sorts
and conditions of plays and players. Needless to
say, such a system could only have one result. The
performances were always rough and unfinished ;
while the players seldom had the opportunity, even
if they had the inclination, to become absorbed
in their work. With the growth of travelling
facilities the stock system gradually died out. It
was replaced by the touring system, according to
which London successes were sent on tour. The

■ companies presenting these successes were, and are
still, composed of a " star," supported by minor
players, who, instead of having constant practice in
a great number of parts, are only expected to play
one part each for months together. The company
^^ are drilled into their parts in London, and here
^B their concern with the play ends, unless we except
^H understudying parts, which is, as a rule, merely a
^Hprocess of photographing the principal players.

ih,Coo<;

1 80 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

That this is a bad system for the player is incon-
testible. It simply reduces him to a wooden auto-
maton. The modern repertory system has a great
advantage over the aforementioned systems in being
better organised, and in providing a response to
the demand by dramatic societies in large centres
for an appropriate expression of the life and customs
of such centres. Thus it has had not only the
effect of establishing repertory theatres with highly
efficient resident companies playing the " legitimate *'
repertory, but of calling forth local dramatists well
equipped to produce a local form of drama. Perhaps
its chief good consists in affording players constant
practice in a great number and variety of characters,
thus opening up a valuable training ground to them,
and thereby developing many remarkable talents ;
and beyond this in developing ensemble acting in
the country, whereby the player is enabled so to
project his part into the play as to become part of
a whole, and yet so to project himself into the
character which he is interpreting that his own
individuality becomes merged in the interpretation.
In short, the new repertory system is essentially one
for students of the drama.

Acting and Actors
Reinhardt's company, besides being cosmopolitan,
contains some extraordinarily clever players. De-
spite the gloomy opinion of a certain class of cheap
criticj^they can do somethliig more than they are
told. Not only can they think out their parts, but
they can invest them with life and passion. Brahm,
it will be remembered, gave birth to the ultra.-

tio

^^ wa

Hos

HIS RESOURCES i8i

modern type of player — educated, cultured, talented,
highly restrained, understanding rather than feeling
" the part," the offspring, in fact, of modern in-
teUectual drama. Reinhardt went beyond the new
tradition, and promoted Brahm's moderns to ultra-
moderns by affording an opening to impulse.
These may be divided into types. The first type
is represented by Gertrud Eysoldt, an actress of
the ultra-modern movement. She expresses the
emotions through the intellect — the intellect,
indeed, fashions the emotion. In fact, she is the
extreme type of the intellectual actress, in whom
the intellect is a fine instrument for shaping the
feelings. She is the present type of actress —
not the type that the new theatre and new drama
will evolve. She is the actress who kfiows, is always
on the level of consciousness, like Bernard Shaw.
In this respect she recalls one or two English players
whom Ibsen has created in England. William
Archer once saw Gertrud Eysoldt in the part of
Lulu in Wedekind's Earth-Spirit. His impressions
are stated in these words : " The extraordinary skill
with which Frau Gertrud Eysoldt plays Lulu is
the only thing that to British nerves could render
this assemblage of horrors endurable on the stage.
Frau Eysoldt has the gift of being recklessly
realistic without offence. She is in this part the
incarnation of soulless femininity, without a sugges-
tion of anything that exceeds the limits of art. It
was this actress, by the way, who played both
Oscar Wilde's Salome and Bernard Shaw's Cleopatra,
Frau Eysoldt's performance was the most re-
markable thing I saw in Berlin." The second type

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182 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

is found in the cosmopolitan and versatile actor
Alexander Moissi. This actor plays an extra-
ordinary wide range of parts, among these being
Romeo, Franz Moor (Schiller's Rohbers)^ Faust
and Mephisto, Hamlet and CEdipus Rex, Oswald
Alving {Ghosts)^znd Dubedat {The Doctor sDiiemma).
His achievement is all the more astounding when we
consider that he is an Italian, and has learnt from
forty to fifty parts in a foreign language. Possessing
the fiery Italian temperament, he is able to invest
his work with that rare element, passion, while a
voice of exceptional cello-like quality enables him
to charm and hold the spectator much as Bern-
hardt does. Herr Moissi isan example of Reinhardt's
extreme loyalty to the members of his company,
and especially to the new-comer. At first he en-
countered a great deal of opposition, but Reinhardt
stuck by him till he had carried him through.
An English actor-manager would have seen his
own position threatened by Herr Molssi's success
and would have got rid of him as soon as possible.
Under the star-system in England small-part people
are never given a chance. It is the most selfish
system in existence. A third Deutsches Theater
type is represented by Friedrich Kayssler, who last
season left the Deutsches Theater for the Deutsches
Schausplelhaus. This third type — differing from
the other two, the highly intellectual one of
Gertrud Eysoldt and the excessively emotional one
of Moissi — is of a strong, silent, self-contained
character firmly discipHned by an artistic will.
Herr Kayssler aims always and truthfully to ex-
press himself or his personahty as he conceives it

HIS RESOURCES 183

and desires it to be realised. That is, he believes
he has a value and endeavours to make it fully felt
by everybody. He never changes, and thus reveals
the impenetrable characteristics of the unmistakably
North-German type. Broadly speaking, he is a
mixture of Mr Norman McKinnel and Mr Forbes
Robertson.

Another type is found in the old traditional
actor, Rudolf Schildkraut, whose methods have
the aroma of a full-bodied wine that has been in
the cellar many years. Both the actors and their
acting are the outcome of thoroughness and a re-
verence for the theatre. They exist for the play ;
they are never exploited as " stars " ; each is a part
of the whole, and each is rehearsed as a part of
the whole, and not as a sapless and voiceless entity
designed to prop up the darling of the gods.

School of Acting and Promotion

The promotion of the Deutschcs Theater player is
also an organised affair. Understudies are not treated
as mechanical appliances. They are not only kept
prepared to go on for certain parts, but they are
allowed to appear in parts as vacancies occur, which
they frequently do owing to the constant change
of programme both at the Deutsches Theater and
the Kammerspiclhaus. By this means a cast three
deep is built up, which has the advantage of enabling
pieces to be played by their original cast through-
out their entire run, or for two or three seasons at
least. The Deutsches Theater method of promotion
resembles that of the Moscow Theatre, with the
exception that it is not bound by the co-operative

1 84 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

system of the latter theatre, whereby everybody
employed in the theatre becomes a shareholder.
Another point of resemblance is found in the school
of acting attached to both theatres in which the
players are prepared. In both schools the Jaques-
Dalcroze system of rhythmic dancing is taught.
By this system it is hoped that the music of
physical movements will be restored, and actions
and gestures will once more express thoughts and
feelings that lie too deep for words. There arc
many supporters of the school of acting. Sir
Herbert Tree is one, Sarah Bernhardt is another,
a third appears in Miss Gertrude Kingston, while
a fourth is Mr Gordon Craig. What others have
conceived in theory, Max Reinhardt has given birth
to in practice. Reinhardt is aware that the hap-
hazard education of the actor is responsible for the
inanities of acting. This may or may not be true.
Personally, I beUeve that instinct plays as great a
part in acting as in other forms of art, and given
instinct there is little or no need of education.
However, Max Reinhardt thinks differently, and
he is in good company. So when he became
director of the Deutsches Theater, his first step
was to inaugurate a school wherein budding
Xysoldts, Moissis, and Kaysslers might be turned
r out by the score. Here pupils are put through
I their preliminary paces, and taken carefully
through all the departments of a player's career.
A notable feature of Reinhardt's school is that
it reproduces in miniature his idea of co-director-
ship. According to this idea there is an organ-
iser and a number of intelligences who together.

HIS RESOURCES 185

^^Bonn a coUective will, and who separately and
^^'together impose this will, though not tyrannically,
on the student. Thus the student in his journey
round the circle passes from master-mind to master-
mind, gathering the finest principles of speech and
action in elocution, posture, dance, gesture, and
grace, till the circle of his adventures is complete.
It is said that Reinhardt's policy is to discover talent.
_ He prefers the raw to the finished material. And
^■.out of the raw he weaves a piece of fine tapestry
^Bwhich falls harmoniously within his general design.

The Repertory Bill

As a clue to a normal week's working of the
Reinhardt theatres and the source whence the
actor's opportunity springs, let me quote a list of
plays mentioned by Mr Granville Barker, in a
contribution to the Fortnightly Review, as well as
his concise comments thereon : —

Deulschcs Theater

Kammerspielhaus.

Tuesday, Ort. i$

FaujI .

A Comedy of Errors.
Le Mariage Farce.

Wednwday, Oct. i6

Sumurin .

DtrGraf-mn Ghichm

Tbortday, Oct. 17

Judith ,

. A Comtdy of Errort.
Le Mariage Force.

Friday, Oct. z8 .

j1 Midiummcr

Night' 1 Dream

. The Doctor', Dilemma.

Sttnrday, Oct 29

Hirr und Dinner

. A Comedy of Errori.
Le Mariage Force.

Sunday, Oct. 30 ,

Htrr und Dimtr

. A Comedy of Errort.
Le Mariage Force,

Monday, Oct, 3 1

Sumurdn .

. Gawan.

" Let me analyse this programme. The pro-
rduction of Faust dates from 25th March 1909.

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i86 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

It has been given many times this year, and this
was its hundred and fourteenth performance alto-
gether. I saw it ; it was excellent, and the house
(which is rather smaller than His Majesty's, rather
bigger than the Haymarket) was very well filled.
Sumur^n is a pantomime play with music, built
upon the famous 'Tale of the Hunchback ' and two
or three other stories from the Arabian Nights. It
is a brilliant romp, remarkable, too, for the indi-
vidual excellence of some of the acting, but above
all for the ingenuity and inventiveness of the pro-
duction ; quite one of Reinhardt's triumphs. It
was one of the spring season's successes and is still
popular, having reached perhaps its fiftieth per-
formance. Hebbel's Judith was first produced here
on 25th February of this year, and has been played
fifty-three times. A Midsummer Night's Dream was
Reinhardt's first big Shakespearean success. It
has been played over five hundred times and is
never long out of the bill. This is probably the
theatre's record, and, indeed, too long a life for
any production. The playing it in repertory,
and the constant changes of cast {at this perform-
ance only one of the original actors appeared),
have kept it as fresh as may be, and the meaning
and spirit of the production survive well enough ;
moreover, to the connoisseur in these things there
is a certain charm in the easy, well-worn way it
all goes. Still, it would be the sounder really
for a drastic readjustment and retuning. Herr
und Diener is a new play of Ludwig Fulda's,
something, as Bottom would say, ' in Ercles
vein,' and played very much so. These were

I
I
I

^f its fi

HIS RESOURCES 187

its first two performances. On Monday came
Sumurun again.

" Now for the Kammerspielhaus. The Comedy
of Errors with he Mariage Ford is the latest pro-
duction, a few weeks old only, and a great success,
as appears by its being in the bill four times in
one week. I fancy that no play may be done
oftener. That this has been given twenty-three
times in six weeks is at least a record.

" Der Graf von Gleicheri^ by Wilhelm Schmidt-
bonn, one of the younger of the Rhineland school
of dramatists, is a play drawn from a medieval saga.
It was produced in December igo8, and holds
its place.

" The Doctor's Dilemma was produced here in
November 1908. It has now a hundred and
thirty-two performances to its credit, and is
never out of the bill for very long. It steadily
attracts its congregations. Gawan, by Eduard
Stucken, is one of a cycle of plays dealing with
the Arthurian legend ; one might call its author,
not quite inappropriately, a sort of dramatic Burne-
Jones. It was produced in the spring and has
achieved about thirty performances."

The Producing Staff
Reinhardt's power of organisation is further
demonstrated in the extreme ability with which
he selects and handles his producing staff. Here
again we find the idea of co-directorship ap-
plied. Here again there is an organiser of great
ability (Reinhardt) and a number of fine intelli-
gences who together form a corporate whole,

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i88 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

and together express the Will of the Theatre.
Composing the circle are the producer (Reinhardt),
the literary director (Arthur Kahane), the musical
director, the interpretative body of players, the art
director {Ernst Stern), the technical director, and
so forth. These and others are the heads of the
departments. Each directs and controls his own
department, while working according to a general
design. Generally speaking, the English Theatre
is lacking in such a collective method of inter-
pretation.

Financial and Public Sopport

Although it is maintained that in this commer-
cial age theatres of the Deutsches Theater class can-
not flourish without financial aid, I find no proof
that Reinhardt's theatre does not pay its way as a
successful private venture. Evidence has been pro-
duced in some quarters in the attempt to show
that some of the private theatres in Germany are
heavily endowed and are not expected to pay their
way. It is said they are private only inasmuch as
they do not publish balance-sheets. But persons
who talk in this fashion usually confuse a private
theatre with an endowed one. The Diisseldorf
Theater is spoken of as a private theatre ; yet, as I
have pointed out elsewhere, it receives municipal
aid — the same assistance, in fact, as a municipal
theatre. It is private, then, only in the sense that
it is not public property. The Deutsches Theater
is a private theatre, but that is no ground for
assuming it is an endowed one. It is extremely
doubtful whether Reinhardt is in need of 6nancial

I.. i-Mi>,Coo<;lc I

^P assist:

HIS RESOURCES

assistance. Judging by his equipment and
methods, I should say not. He is an unusual
blend of business man and artist, and his grasp of
business qualities has enabled him to put both his
houses on a paying basis. Some persons confirm
this by saying that Reinhardt's principal object in
cultivating drama is to earn an honest living. If
so, he has a good precedent in Shakespeare, who
managed his own theatre, kept an eye on the
box-office, was more careful of his money
investments than his play construction, and
was so successful in the theatrical business
that he retired at an early age to live upon his
profits. Reinhardt has been very successful
throughout. Long runs and crowded houses have
marked his progress. The secret of it is that he
confined himself entirely to one thing — the theatre.
He has lived for nothing else, and has received
adequate support for this reason. I imagine that
if Mr Granville Barker had adopted the same
course there would be no need for him to de-
plore the absence of financial and public support.
But, unfortunately, he has divided his strength
between the theatre and political and socialistic
propaganda, has permitted himself to be diverted
by G. B. Shaw from the theatre to the exploitation
of socialistic theory and Fabian socialism. Like
Reinhardt, he should have recognised that the
theatre is a jealous goddess who accepts no votive
offerings but those belonging to the theatre. Such
strange goods as economic theory and the wage
system and guild socialism do not belong to the
theatre. The political dust-heap is the proper

^^^^^^^^^^^^^ h. I ii,Coot^lc

I go THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

place for them. When Mr Barker has been
weaned from Mr G. B. Shaw and economic
theory, and educated to regard the theatre and
drama from an art standpoint, he will be ready
for a successful start. The Moscow Art Theatre
is another example of an undertaking whose com-
mercial success is due to concentration on the
things that belong to the theatre. For several
years after it was established it had a large yearly
deficit. But to-day it earns yearly between j^Sooc
and j^io,ooo clear profit.

The public support of Reinhardt is and always
has been fully assured. And 1 believe it would
have been just as great even if public taste in
Germany had not undergone so long a course of
preparation. And this simply because on his busi-
ness side Reinhardt has always had his finger on the
public pulse, a policy which Mr Henry Arthur
Jones used to follow during his most successful
period. If the public demanded this, that, or the
other form of contemporary drama, there was Mr
Henry Arthur Jones with a sample. Mr Jones
was always careful to remember that we are still
a race of shopkeepers.

The record of the resources of the theatre
would not be complete without mention of its
propaganda sheet, Blatter des Deutschen Theaters,
which is written by the heads of the departments,
and to which attention has already been drawn.

{

HIS PRODUCTIONS

Of the plays produced by Reinhardt a list is

included in the appendices, which attests that his
theatre is in the true sense an international one.
Plays of various periods and countries, by dramatists
of different degrees of greatness, are selected for the
purpose of having their essential spirit of comedy
or drama extracted, brought up to date, and there-
after administered to the spectator in the form of
a spell that acts upon him and by whose mesmeric
power his own spirit is brought into the action of
the play.

Productions in Germany
What of Reinhardt's German productions f
There is a great deal to admire in them, and they
contain much that is of value to the English stage.
During my visits to Germany I have seen several
pieces in Berlin, as well as in Munich where Rein-
hardt usually spends his summer vacation producing
festival plays at the Kiinstler Theater. On one
occasion the anniversary of the amazing Kleist, the
German Shakespeare, brought forth a production of
Penlhesiiea. It was treated in an exceedingly simple
way. All the top and side hamper of the stage was
191

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192

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

done away with, and the action of the play, which
was condensed into four acts, took place at different
points of the plain in front of Troy. The revolv-
ing stage was set accordingly with one tall cypress
tree, which changed its position as the stage re-
volved. The white round horizon served as a back-
ground, being tinted to represent the desired sky
effects. On another occasion the Orestie led me
into the circus and gave me my first glimpse of Rein-
hardt's intimacy idea grown to gigantic proportions
making its bow to a vast audience. Here, indeed,
was " the colossal proportions which befit the monu-
mental style." I fancy I must have had J. R.
Lowell's My Study IVinJows in my pocket, for at the
moment I did really believe that *' things do really
gain in greatness " by being done on a great scale,
and it is wise " to act on a great stage," because
"there is inspiration in the thronged audience."
But when I left the building my belief was modified,
for Moissi played Orestes, and though he has a voice
that a Greek would have envied, his proportions
were not by any means monumental. Since that
time my belief in the resurrection of the circus as
an aid to drama, in being suited to huge dramatic
spectacle and having a seating capacity for from 6000
to r 0,000 persons, has changed. I now believe in
an age of the little theatre. The little theatre has
an entrance for the public, but none for sensation,
and if properly constructed and worked it will have
no emergency exits. On another occasion Oedipus
Rex gave me an insight into Reinhardt's methods
of handling a Greek chorus and crowd. Oedipus
also took me into the circus, where again the inti-

bGgggtl^

^H macy

HIS PRODUCTIONS 193

macy idea was fully exploited. I noticed one
thing in particular, that the circus construction was
far better suited to the production than the Covent
Garden Opera House. The floor of the building
was quite free, and the passages between the seats,
which rose tier upon tier, as in the Greek amphi-
theatre, facilitated the movements of all the players.
Thus I felt a icinship for the " crowd " more keenly
than I did in the London production, to which I
shall refer presently. As a contrast there came later,
still in the circus, that fine old morality Everyman.
It gave one a new emotion to find this piece of im-
mortality scoring a triumph in a building so utterly
different from the places it had visited in England
under Mr William Poel's guidance. It appeared '
in the German dress that Hugo von Hofmannsthal
had given it, in adapting it from the Nuremberg
version of Hans Sachs. But I am still at a loss to
know why Reinhardt considered the circus indis-
pensable to the production of Everyman. There
were no crowds, no chorus, and the quaint
three-tiered stage, the only thing requiring room,
would have gained in artistic proportions in a
smaller building. Except in the Banqueting Scene,
where Death appears invisible to all the revellers,
save Everyman, the stage is not occupied by more
than two or three characters at a time. Perhaps
Reinhardt believed that only in space could its
very simple, child-like character be felt. Apart
from this consideration, it was one of Reinhardt's
finest achievements. It was a Gothic contribution
to the stage. Everything was Gothic except the
circus, not that this mattered, for Everyman is not a

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194 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

piece of architecture ; it is simply players mouthing
the metaphysics of the Middle Ages. The entire
scheme of line and colour and movement had the
Gothic feeling. The production had, in fact, the
uniform, homogeneous character of a style. The
angular gestures made so familiar to us by the early
primitive paintings and woodcuts were delightfully
reproduced, though one or two of the actors
appeared to tire of them in the course of the play
and returned occasionally to the meaningless, con-
ventionalised roundness of everyday acting. I liked
the banqueting scene in Everyman's house. The
burial scene was very effective, though it bordered on
the arch geologically correct. It had for background
a carefully staged copy of the medieval triptych,
with the well-known angels upholding a scroll
before a Gothic screen. The skill with which
Moissi played Everyman added largely to the simple
effectiveness of the production. His quiet, reverent
repetition of an old Hans Sachs' prayer familiar to all
German students, and most ingeniously introduced
before Everyman goes to confession, was perhaps
the most telling part of the whole performance. By
Goethe's Faust II. I was introduced to Reinhardt's
wonderfully ingenious use of the revolving stage
used in conjunction with a part of the auditorium.
The staging of this impossible " drama " is fully
described in my volume T/ie New Spirit in Drama
and Art. I imagine that Max Reinhardt went
wandering after this strange god only because it
offered him an unequalled opportunity of demon-
strating his remarkable talent as a producer.
This piece has always been the despair of German

^'i^Wfedb/

producers. How were they to get this meta-
physical exposition staged within reasonable time.
It is true that the eminent writer Eckermann
adapted it in 1830 for the stage under Goethe's
supervision. It is true also that here and there
a daring producer has presented it in scraps during
the nineteenth century, and that Ernst von Possart,
the Shakespearean tragedian, almost got the whole
of it on the stage in Munich in 1895. But how
to stage it entire so as to preserve its magnitude, as
well as the patience of the audience, that was the
question.

Although the problem was not so bad as that of
G^tz von Berlichingen, with its fifty-five scenes, it
was bad enough. The latter part of Goethe's specu-
lation on his journey to Hell and back again to
Heaven makes an immoderate call on the drop cur-
tain and the scene-shifter. It is indeed a tough
problem. But Reinhardt's Shakespearean experi-
ence and his new conception of the stage and
stagecraft helped him to solve it. By erecting a
false proscenium level with the tiers of private
boxes and using the space between this and the
back of the stage to form alternate stages, he
overcame the play's reckless demand for scene-
shifting and long waits. In this way he got the
bigness of the work across the footlights, and its
sombre metaphysical character also. Thus pre-
sented, the latter half of Goethe's masterpiece gave
me the impression of one of Watt's great gloomy
figures seated on a ponderous globe chewing the
cud of contemplation. It will be gathered that
Reinhardt's success in galvanising Faust into up-

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196 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

to-date life was due to his knowledge of Shake-
speare's stagecraft. If Goethe had had this
knowledge when he began to write Faust (which
took him over half a century to complete)
probably there would have been no triumph for
Reinhardt. As a contrast to the black-and-white
metaphysical treatment of Faust 11. there is the
colour treatment of Shakespeare. I think that
Reinhardt appears at his best in his productions
of Shakespearean comedy. Here he has full
scope for his belief that the scene should appeal
to the eye, that Shakespeare should be played in
the festival spirit, that you cannot give him too
much colour, brilliant colour being, in fact, the
most appropriate setting to the mood in which the
poet conceived his plays. Besides this, Reinhardt
finds in Shakespeare full scope for the childlike
vision which he possesses, and which is really in-
dispensable in a producer of Shakespearean comedy.
Thus his production of Muck Ado about Nothing
fully revealed that he has the gift of seeing things
in a mass, as a child sees them, and that he
considers the lighter plays of Shakespeare to
be the best medium for exercising this spirit.
Much Ado was really the child's Shakespeare. It
contained just the big, simple masses, the colours,
lines, sounds, and movements a child would enjoy
and remember. There was nothing academical or
literary about it. Its fourteen scenes were set at
the same time on the revolving stage, thereby solving
the problems of act division and quick changes of
scene, and abolishing localities. The only locality
mentioned on the programme was " The Scene

..^jist*

Messina." The scenes were, accordingly,
simple and impressive — a mere suggestion of a
lofty hall, or two box-trees and an infinite blue or
blue-black horizon, or a double row of old-gold
walls seen in perspective running out to a thin
Streak of blue sky. From the colour arrangement
it was apparent that Herr Ernst Stern had also felt
the festival spirit and was expressing it in fresh and
delirious colour. His colour was full and rich in
tone. Harmonious golds, blues, and reds composed
the backgrounds for a wide range of very effective
colour to move against. Some of the settings were
skilfully adapted to serve two or three scenes, For
example, an exterior would be suggested by a row
of columns. Next, the exterior would be changed
to an interior by the simple device of drop-
ping a curtain in front of the columns. Further
evidence of Reinhardt's childlike vision of Shake-
speare will be found elsewhere in the extract from
" Mr William Archer's contribution to a symposium
on the Deutsches Theater. Among Reinhardt's
most recent productions was The Blue Bird, to
which he gave the simple character of a German
fairy tale, thus avoiding the pantomime and ballet
characters of the London and Paris productions
respectively.

Productions in England — " SumurCn "
When Reinhardt came to London he had
immense difficulties to contend with. There
was no suitable theatre for him, no up-to-date
lighting system, and no intelligent organisation
of the theatre staff, no one in the theatre

t, Google

iqs the theatre of max reinhardt

who, from reform - education, or pursuit, or
inclination, could greatly help him. He was re-
garded as a purveyor of sensation, and he was taken
by the nation on trial, so to speak, for a few weeks
at one of its principal music-halls. Thus pieces
which he had produced in Berlin under the new
and enlightened conditions had to be reproduced
here under old and obsolete ones. He made his
appearance modestly with a condensed version of
a play under his arm, and proceeded with it to the
Coliseum Theatre in the spring of 191 1 as being
a place that possessed a revolving stage and some
possibilities of lighting. The piece was Sumurun.
This play, which was of a mimetic character, a
combination of appropriate gesture and music, had
already appeared in Germany, where it created a.
great deal of attention as being Max Reinhardt's
first attempt to apply the language of gesture.
Of course the experiment was not new. At an
early period in the world's history man was accus-
tomed to express himself — his thoughts and feelings
— by action. Articulate speech is an encroach-
ment on the domain of human action, and in some
persons' opinion it is not an improvement. Per-
haps in producing wordless plays Reinhardt is
expressing a growing feeling that it is time the '
closure was put on articulate sounds, especially in .
the theatre and parliament, and full scope be given
to man's desire to express his definite thoughts and
emotions by gesture. In pursuit of his mimetic
idea that every possible human emotion should be
expressed by action, he cast Sumurun with his most
distinguished actors and actresses, players who had J

re:

indeed been appearing in his biggest productions.
To these he gave the task of removing the modern
iproach created by the back-to-talk, and the
Ihaw dramas, that nowadays some players can
talk and cannot act, while other players can do
neither.

The Coliseum cast of Sumuri^ji^ although not the
original one, fully vindicated the acting reputation
of a part of the profession at least. And the pro-
duction, scrappy though it was, revealed the fact
that in Reinhardt a new force, working for the
reform of the theatre, was in our midst. Judging
■om the reception given to the piece, and the
;emand of a certain section of the press for further
samples of this class of goods, it is conceivable
that Max Reinhardt returned to Germany with a
lighter heart, and perhaps a heavier purse, than
jwhen he left it. If so, he was extremely fortun-
pate, for the Coliseum production of Sumur&n was
not a good one from a strictly critical point of
view. The play was presented piecemeal ; the
Coliseum stock scenery was faked for the occasion,
and the auditorium was too vast for the element of
intimacy. The lighting, however, was good, and
quickened the really beautiful colours as they
moved across the scenes. A few months later the
complete play, as given at the Dcutsches Theater,
was given at the Savoy Theatre. The exchange
■om the variety theatre to the legitimate stage
Was good, with the exception of the lighting.
The Savoy stage was badly lit, and there was no
dome focus light, such as had been used so effectively
iftt the Coliseum, to concentrate the passions. This

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200 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

apart, the play was more together, the dimensions
of the stage were more suited to it, and the action
was closer to the audience.

The Story

Sumur&n is a story without words that comes
from the East. It is partly derived from the Tales
of the Arabian Nights^ by Friedrich Freska. It
tells a story of Eastern passion, of love, hate, and
revenge, the chief emotional characteristics of a race
that has always been accustomed to give expression
to its strongest emotions. It is the story of a well-
conditioned, handsome merchant named Nur-al-din,
who is in love with Sumurun, the fascinating wife
of an old Sheik. It is the old, old dramatic theme
of a lover and his beloved and an obstacle, and a
means to remove the obstacle. Nur-al-din, besides
being a merchant, is a dreamer. Long before the
play opens he has been dreaming of the perfect
woman. One day, at the opening of the play,
she arrives, and with her coming Nur-al-din's
dream is realised. Their glances meet and the
action of the play begins. Nur-al-din is now in
love with the Sheik's wife, and she with him.
He has felt the fascination of this seductive
Eastern woman, and she has responded to the
allurements of the handsome dreamer. But there
is an obstacle to their happiness. The Sheik has
to be removed. Nur-al-din's neighbour is a
hunchback showman, who has a troupe of per-
formers, including a beautiful dancer, an old
woman who charms snakes, and a huge negro.
The Hunchback also has his romance : he is in

,^^

HIS PRODUCTIONS

^Klove with the beautiful Dancer. When the Sheik
^^ arrives with Sumurun he is accompanied by
his son, who, being a love adventurer, is willing
and anxious to bestow his favours on the first
promising object. So we see him trying to flirt
with one of Sumurun's maids, and, being defeated
in his aim by Sumurun herself, he turns and
bestows his attention upon the Hunchback's dancer.
The Hunchback, though poor and humble, is not
the man to be trifled with. He has poured all
his passion into this love for the Dancer, and
though there is a great division between his
position and that of the Sheik's son, nothing can
restrain his intense jealousy and the frenzy of his
anger. All the primitive savage in him rises to
the surface and flings him upon his rival. But it
is of no avail ; for the rival is quickly rescued
by the intervention of the officials of the Bazaar.
The Hunchback, half killed, turns to Sumurun and
begs her to restore peace between him and his
powerful adversary. Sumurun gracefully promises.
Now comes the scene to carry on the action. The
scene between the Hunchback and the son has
ended, and people begin to return. Among them
is the Sheik in search of his wife. It happens
that his eyes, like those of Eastern potentates, have
the bad habit of going astray. The Dancer is

■about, and the sight of her is too much for
him. Thereupon follows a scene of attempted
barter. The Hunchback will not sell, but the old
woman snake-charmer is quite willing to do the
_ business for him ; and she prepares to negotiate
^Hwith the Slave Dealer, who is acting on behalf

202 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

of the Sheik. The Hunchback depicts in vivid
gestures his horror at this cold-blooded plot to rob
him of his pearl of great price. Scene II. carries
the action into the interior of the Hunchback's
theatre. The performance is proceeding ; the
Hunchback shows nothing of the passions raging
within him. The Sheik's son is still making
approaches to the Dancer, while the Sheik himself
is present hoping to secure the Dancer. By this
time the Hunchback is in a more conciliatory
mood. He sees a way to revenge himself on the
son, by disposing of the Dancer to his father. So
the deal is concluded. A scene in which the
power of colour to communicate magnetic action
is demonstrated, follows. The Dancer arranges
her gorgeous wardrobe and packs her trunk, so
to speak. In doing so she turns her back on the
Hunchback, who, driven to despair, attempts to
commit suicide by swallowing a piece of poisonous
food called Bhang. The Bhang, however, oblig-
ingly sticks in his throat in order to help the
action. For, as subsequent events prove, it is
necessary that the Hunchback shall make his way
to the Sheik's palace, and this by a devious route.
A pathway is opened by the old snake-charmer and
the son. The former returns with the gold which
she has obtained for the Dancer, and, finding that
the Hunchback is to all appearances dead, flings
him on a couch, covers him with draperies, and
departs. The son returns and discovers the hidden
body, which at first he takes to be the Dancer
asleep, but on learning the truth he bundles the
body unceremoniously into a sack belonging to chc-^

I
I

Doay uncercmoniousiy mto a sacK Dclonging to Uie.^

merchant. The Hunchback is thus assured a safe
journey to the merchant's instead of to heaven.
The curtain falls on the rapid exit of the son as
the merchant's slaves enter and bear the sack away.
Scene III. reveals the Hunchback passing to his
ultimate destination and receiving many unkind
buffets on the way. A sack is not a comfortable
form of transit, and it does not inspire reverence
in those who handle it. In this scene before the
Sheik's Palace, the sack and its contents play but a
subordinate part, and perhaps for this reason its
occupier deserves the punishment he receives.
He is caught up in the tangled threads of the
scene, and flung hither and thither, bobbing up
and down like wreckage making its way across
the Atlantic. The scene then is not the Hunch-
back's but Nur-al-din's, who is brought from
the market-place in order to carry on the love
interest and to reveal the cunning of Sumuriin
and the fair slaves in evading the orders of the
old Sheik. We learn that in this comedy
intrigue against the Sheik, the women are for
Nur-al-din. The Sheik's suspicions are aroused,
and the son's pursuit of the Dancer is quickened.
So the action is carried to Nur-al-din's shop in
Scene IV. The Hunchback arrives in his sack
considerably more damaged than when he first
started. The secret of the sack is discovered by
the merchant's servants, who, paralysed by fear,
throw it into a box and fly.

Then follows a scene between Nur-al-din and
Sumurun, who has come with her ladies, presum-
ibly to buy, but really to make love. By this timei

204 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

the action is moving rapidly in the direction of the
Palace, where both the Hunchback and Nur-al-din
arc due. How to get them there, that is the
question ? The Hunchback is in the box where
the servants have transferred him. The old snake-
charmer comes and localises him for future purposes,
and when Sumurun returns to the shop after a
brief absence, what is more natural than that she
should conceive the idea of smuggling her lover
into the Palace in a box, unconsciously using the
very box where the ill-used Hunchback has been
deposited amid perfumed draperies. The Hunch-
back makes no protest. Why should he ? What
does it matter to him now that a human being is
added to the weight of his sorrows f Is he not
now fully adjusted to stand any pressure f Then
as a sort of summary comes the famous silhouette
scene, where the characters of this fantasy pass
before us in review, as it were, on their way, and
marking a further stage towards the Sheik's Palace.
There they all pass, these comedy and tragedy
puppets, these human marionettes dancing on the
strings of love, hate, jealousy, and revenge. At the
tail of the procession is the basket containing the
lover and his liberator. The Hunchback is the
symbol of destiny. The action next passes before
the Palace. The atmosphere of suspense is cleverly
maintained. How will the two smuggled men get
into the Palace. Nothing easier. The Sheik's
servants come out to search Nur-al-din's baskets,
and very ingeniously Sumurun's maid contrives
transfer the merchant to a basket which has
inspected, leaving the Hunchback to be discovered

ives to ^
LS been H
overed^l

^P by th(

HIS PRODUCTIONS 205

by the peripatetic old woman. What happens next
is obvious. She discovers the piece of Bhang block-
ing the entrance to the alimentary canal, and forth-
with proceeds to extract it. With this obstacle out
of the way the Hunchback is once more a man of
action. He becomes witness of the son's renewed
effort to possess the Dancer ; he sees that the son is
playing a dangerous game in which the loss of a
trick would prove fatal. So when the old Sheik
draws the daring Dancer into the Palace, having
discovered her intrigue with his son, and the son
follows at the Dancer's beckoning, he too enters,
creeping in unobserved. At last we are in the
harem with the denouement within sight. It is an
Eastern scene of voluptuousness, where the wife and
her ladies hold carnival while the master is absent.
Nur-al-din is released from the basket by the
women, who proceed to make the most of his
company. The spirit of dance is set free, and
rapidly succeeding emotions are expressed in
rhythmical gesture and motion. The Sheik enters
unexpectedly. But they dance away his suspicions.
Sumurun even communicates her love for him
through her dance, or so it seems to the Sheik.
But he is mistaken, for when he approaches
Sumurun she repels him, and in his anger he calls
for his new slave, with whom he departs in sight
of Sumurun and her women. Sumurun turns to
console herself with Nur-al-din. As the curtain
falls the figures of the son and the Hunchback are
seen following the direction the Sheik has taken.
Scene VIII. carries the action to the Sheik's bed-
room, where it begins to reach a climax. The-SheLk.

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2o6 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

and the Dancer are asleep. The Hunchback enters,
showing conclusively by his actions that he is there
for a fixed purpose. He conceals himself within
the drapery at the back of the bed. Then comes
the son of the Sheik. He signals to the Dancer.
She responds and they embrace. They are pledged
to each other, they will fly together, but first there
is one thing to be done. The Sheik must be
eflaced. The son hesitates. She urges him.
Time is flying. The Sheik may awake. He
yields. He steps forward. A form suddenly
appears. To the Dancer it is the ghost of the
Hunchback, She shrieks. The Sheik awakens.
He drives his dagger into the body of his treacher-
ous son, and flings aside the creature who would
betray him. But the end is not yet. The Hunch-
back has not yet fulfilled his dramatic purpose.
The lovers have to be united. But the obstacle
still remains. As the scene closes the dying son
leads his father to the harem where the action
in Scene IX. passes. Here, during the tragedy
in the bedroom, Sumurun and her women and
lover, wearied of their love-making and dancing,
have fallen asleep. Danger suddenly touches them.
They awake and hurriedly conceal Nur-al-din.
The Sheik searches for him, while the women,
seeking to abstract his attention, dance madly round
him. Suddenly he catches sight of the white
face of the Hunchback in the gallery above. He
swiftly drags him down. The women make one
more appeal. Sumurun stoically invites him to
kill her. Thereupon Nur-al-din steps from his
hiding-place, in order to die for Sumurun. There

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I
I

HIS PRODUCTIONS

207

is a fierce fight between him and the Sheik.
But the strength of the old man prevails. Nur-al-
din is about to be killed when the battered figure
of the Hunchback moves rapidly forward and
plunges a knife into the back of the Sheik. So
destiny in the person of the Hunchback plays its
^^ part and the lovers are united.

^1 Scenery, Decoration, Music, and Acting

^* The scenery was noticeable for its almost austere
simplicity. The background was indeed little more
than a whitewashed wall against which the vivid
colours moved. This gave the representation the
appearance of a number of set scenes, rather than
scenes unified and continuous. They were scenes
carefully composed in the way they would look
best, in which the light will fall on the draperies
and create a fantasy of colours, will bring out the
lines in bold relief and strengthen the general
design, and fall in a less important way on the
actors, in which everything has a place in the
general design, and nothing shall be accidental.
There was no attempt to build up architectural
uniformity and coherence. In fact, there was very

I little of the Arab characteristics in the background.
The lines of the smuggling scene should have been
alive with inquietude and eccentricity. The lines of
the very impressive silhouette scene, with one simple
mass against another, black against blue, did not
harmonise with the quaint rhythm of the figures
moving against the white base. There is no quiet-
ness in the Arab character, and there should be no
quietness in its widest expression. There was an

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2o8 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

indication of fiery impulsiveness in the bedroom
scene. And that big and attractive harem scene
should have been ringing with the symbols of
imaginative excitability, arches buckling and bend-
ing in all directions, lines curved, filiated, and twisted
into innumerable designs, the whole forming one
big rhythmic design. Still, though the background
was lacking in the essential movement, the colours
were full of it. There were slaves dressed in riotous
patterns, there were gorgeous draperies that strewed
the floor and decorated the walls, and appropriately
took up their harmonious cues. When a red
drapery entered you knew there was a blue to
keep it company. In the scene before the Palace
there were the whitewashed walls, the deep black
exits, the row of red men before the main entrance,
and above them at the casement window the bevy
of fair women in scintillating colours — reds, yellows,
greens, blues, and so forth. So they went dancing
joyfully across the play.

The music, by Victor HoUaender, was composed
to tell the story. It was rather an accompaniment
than supplementary, rather the conscious element
of the play than the subconscious. For instance,
at one part Sumurun taps the box in which the
merchant is concealed. The music taps also, thus
giving the impression of two persons doing the
same thing at one time.

Pantomimic acting is not new to London. Jane
May revealed some of its great possibilities in
UEfifant Prodigue. With this standard in mind I
can still say that the pantomimic acting of Sumur&n
was exceedingly good, seeing that modern players

HIS PRODUCTIONS

are only accustomed to elocutionary acting. In
fact, the conventional stage mode of expression is
speech, and for one player who can express by a
gesture, a pose, a movement, a dance step or two,
a thought or emotion, there are nine hundred and
ninety-nine who can only express them by so many
words. The best test of pantomimic acting is the
cinematograph. In England acting will not stand
the test of this medium. The public crowd to the
cinematograph theatre to see acting, where the best
examples of Italian, French, and American acting
are alone to be found. Take our leading players.
Sir Herbert Tree is a failure on the cinematograph.
So is Mr Gerald du Maurier. So would be the
"stars" of the discussion drama. In Germany the
acting is good, and it is significant that there are,
comparatively speaking, but few cinematograph
theatres. The public frequent the playhouse
instead. Some details of the staging of Sumur&n^
which are new to London, are worth mention.
One was the Eastern idea of the players crossing
the floor of the auditorium by means of a " flower
path," as though coming from a distance, while
another was the arrangement of entrances and exits
to suggest the coming of persons from nowhere
; in particular.

" Oedipus Rex "

The production of this tragedy by Sophocles
marked another step in Reinhardt's development
towards the vast spectacle. It was also an experi-
ment in elocutionary acting of the Greek order.
Beyond this, it had the element of daring with

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2IO THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

which Reinhardt is associated in Germany, and
which some persons maintain will be his downfall.
Therefore, when he announced his intention of
producing Oedipus in a circus, all sorts and con-
ditions of people arose and shrieked, " This is,
indeed, the limit ! " But the manufacturers of
pessimism were disappointed. In point of fact,
there never was any cause for serious apprehension.
In the matter of the conquest of all sorts and
conditions of " stages," Reinhardt had already
shown his skill, and having succeeded so often
there was every likelihood of his doing so again.
So from a predicted sensational extravagance end-
ing in disaster, he passed to a success on his own
lines. Why he played Oedipus Rex in a circus
is best stated in his own words : *' I played it
in a circus because that form of building is best
suited to my requirements. The actors do really
move among the audience, there playing out their
little drama in the midst of their fellow-men, just
as the great drama is played every day of our life
on earth." Later, with this cosmic idea in his
mind, he regarded the Albert Hall as the most
suitable place in London for the production of
Oedipus. " It is circus-shaped, dignified, and large
enough to accommodate such an audience of five
thousand as was present at my Berlin Oedipus pro-
duction." Apparently this change of scene meant
that Max Reinhardt was experimenting with the
Greek idea of intimacy. But, strictly speaking,
this would not be correct, because he was not
experimenting under Greek conditions. Oedipus
was, in fact, a renewed try for Rcinhardt's con-

D„..^bvGa

HIS PRODUCTIONS

ception of intimacy. At Frankfurt the tragedy
took possession of the Albert Schumann Circus,
wherein was seated the five thousand spectators,
rising tier on tier to the roof. Being somewhat
of an intimate character itself, the circus did what
it could for its own credit to secure and preserve
the desired element. It offered the whole (not a
part) of its arena to the principals, chorus, and
crowd, who entered some through the door of the
Greek facade erected at one end, and others by
the steps and entrances leading to the arena. The
ring thus provided allowed the action to take
place at the feet of the audience as well as among
them. In fact, it took place so directly before the
eyes of the audience and got so close to them,
especially that part of the action carried on by the
plague-stricken mob, that it may be reasonably
beheved that the desired sensation was transmitted
complete, and every man and woman left the circus
with the sense of the mystery of patriotics, of the
struggle of man with Fate, as revealed in the Laocoon,
deeply upon them. After Oedipus had stirred the
Germans, it went, in response to much clamour-
ing, to other countries, and eventually came to
London, and this mainly through the praiseworthy
enterprise of Mr Martin Harvey.

The Story

In London Oedipus made its way to Covent
Garden Theatre — of all places in the mighty
metropolis. Probably this was the only available
theatre. If it had been possible to produce it at
the Albert Hall, whose form, size, and acoustical

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212 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

properties are better suited to its proportions and I
dimensions, I believe far better effects would have |
been obtained, and some of the critics would have
ceased from complaining that " Reinhardtism has |
no message for England, artistic or otherwise "
and that " Reinhardtism has always alHed itself |
to religion or the horrible." Having, however,
arrived at Covent Garden Theatre, it was obliged
to live up to the limitations of the place.
Here it had to tell its full story, to move and to
bring the spectator into its action within the hour
and a half allotted to its existence. That it did
so in a highly impressive way argues much for
the skill of the producer and of those who were
associated with him in the work of representation '
and interpretation. The story of Oedipus runs
that during the reign of Laius and Jocasta, Thebes
was terrorised by a mysterious and murderous
Sphinx known as the " She- Wolf of the Woven i
Song." Apparently no one was able to stop the ,
deadly work or to answer the riddle of the Sphinx,
Laius, thinking to gain the assistance of the Oracle I
at Delphi, sets out to consult it, but is murdered
on the way. Shortly after there arrived at Thebes
a certain young prince, Oedipus by name. Oedipus
believes that he is the son of Polybus, King of
Corinth, and has left that city in order to escape ]
a terrible position in which the Oracle has placed
him. Arriving at Thebes, he reads the riddle of
the murderous Sphinx, who thereupon destroys
itself, and forthwith Oedipus is offered the throne
of Laius, and Jocasta for consort. For ten years
he rules wisely and peacefully. At the end of J

^Bthis pe

HIS PRODUCTIONS 213

this period a pestilence breaks out and devastates
Thebes. The action of the play now begins, and
we are introduced to the silent spectacle of the
eager throng of pestilent-smitten supplicants at the
palace gates. To them the King appears with
royal condescension and public zeal. The priest
expresses their heartfelt loyalty, describes the dis-
tress of Thebes, and, praising the past services of
Oedipus, implores him to exercise his power and
wisdom on behalf of the relief of his people. In
his reply the King discloses his solicitude for his
subjects and a means of awakening their hope.
He mentions that he has sent " Creon, my own
wife's brother, forth alone to Apollo's house in
Delphi, there to ask what word, what deed of
mine, what bitter task, may save the city." Just
at this moment Creon is seen approaching. He
is crowned with Apollo's wreath ; his look is
triumphant. What has Phoebus said ? Creon
tells them that he has returned with the news
that the murderer of King Laius is harboured in
the land of Thebes. He must be discovered and
banished. The country must be purged of his
crime. Then follows the dramatic scene be-
tween Oedipus and the blind seer Tiresias, whom
Oedipus, in his anxiety to do the Oracle's bidding,
forces to tell the truth. Tiresias declares that
Oedipus is the man. Oedipus, however, sees
nothing in Tiresias's words but a conspiracy be-
tween him and Creon to seize his throne. As
an immediate consequence he quarrels with the
Leader of the Chorus, who seeks to reason with
him, and with Creon, whose replies to his qucstiQn.s

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214 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

only inflame him still more. By this means the
interest of the audience is roused for the entrance
of the Queen. With Jocasta's entrance begins
the unravelling of the mystery of Oedipus's past.
Accordingly we learn that before the opening of
the play the Oracle had decreed that Laius should
be murdered by his son, and that the son should
marry his own mother. In order to defeat this
decree Jocasta, it seems, ordered it to be given out
that her child was killed. This revelation partly
removes Oedipus's fears, who confesses in turn
that he fled from Corinth to escape a fate similar
to the one to which Jocasta's son was doomed.
At this point a messenger arrives with the news
of the death of Polybus, the supposed father of
Oedipus, whom the latter believed he was decreed
to kill, and whose death he now believes sets him
free from the decree of Fate. But the messenger
has not finished ; he bears in addition the news
that Oedipus is not the son of Polybus. As he
proceeds, the awful truth bursts upon Jocasta,
who with words full of tragic meaning turns and
enters the palace. It now only remains for an old
shepherd to confirm the messenger's story. He
tells how he received Jocasta's child and handed
it in turn to a stranger from Corinth, whence
Oedipus had fled. The chain is complete. Oedipus
recognises that Fate has destroyed him. He
enters the palace, and, finding that Jocasta has
effaced herself, he deprives himself of sight.
Bleeding and blinded, he appears before his people,
and, sightless and alone, passes forth to serve his
self-inflicted term of punishment.

I
I

HIS PRODUCTIONS

Such, then, is the story told in modern language,
and such is the significance it bears to the modern
mind. Whether the modern spectator understands
its early meaning is open to doubt. The ordinary
spectator to-day can scarcely be expected to under-
stand the divine form of the art of the Greeks,
the war of the deities, of giants and heroes. To
him the vital mythology found in Greek tragedy
is a closed book. Ask this modern spectator to
enter the marvellous stream of mythic fiction flow-
ing from early Greece and translate these stories
upon which the tragedies are based in terms of
myths, and he could not do it. He could not, for
example, translate the myth of the shipwrecked
mariners put to death as related in Iphigenia,
Neither could he explain the eternal doctrine and
myth of Oedipus. Given the knowledge to do so,
much that is brutal and repellent to his modern
mind would disappear. As a clue to my meaning,
let me quote from Professor Gilbert Murray's pre-
face to the published edition of Oedipus.

" Mythologists tell us that Oedipus was origin-
ally a dsmon haunting Mount Kithairon, and
Jocasta a form of that Earth-Mother who, as
iEschylus puts it, ' bringeth all things to being, and
when she hath reared them, receiveth again their
seed into her body' {Choephori., iij '. cf. Crusius,
BeitrUge z. Gr. Myth, 21). That stage of the story
lies very far behind the consciousness of Sophocles.
But there does cling about both his hero and his
heroine a great deal of very primitive atmosphere.
There are traces in Oedipus of the pre-Hellenic
Medicine King, the Basileus who is also a Theas.^

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2i6 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

and can make rain or blue sky, pestilence or fertility.
This explains many things in the Priest's first'
speech, in the attitude of the chorus, and
Oedipus's own language after the discovery. It
partly explains the hostility of Apollo, who is not
a mere motiveless Destroyer, but a true Olympian
crushing his Earth-born rival. And in the same
way the peculiar royalty of Jocasta, which makes
Oedipus at times seem not the King but the Consort
of the Queen, brings her near to that class of con-
secrated queens described in Dr Frazer's hectares on
the Kingships who are * honoured as no woman now
living on the earth.'

" The story itself, and the whole spirit in which
Sophocles has treated it, belong not to the fifth
century, but to that terrible and romantic past from
which the fifth-century poets usually drew their
material. The atmosphere of brooding dread, the
pollution, the curses; the 'insane and beastlike
cruelty,' as an ancient Greek commentator calls it,
of piercing the exposed child's feet in order to
ensure its death, and yet avoid having actually
murdered it {Schol. Eur. Pheon.^ 26) ; the whole
treatment of the parricide and incest, not as moral
offences capable of being rationally judged or even
excused as unintentional, but as monstrous and
inhuman pollutions, the last limit of imaginable
horror : all these things take us back to dark
regions of pre-classical and even pre-Homeric
belief. We have no right to suppose that
Sophocles thought of the involuntary parricide
and metrogamy as the people in his play do. In-
deed, considering the general tone of his con-

HIS PRODUCTIONS

217

temporaries and friends, we may safely assume
that he did not. But at any rate he has allowed
no breath of later enlightenment to disturb the
primeval gloom of his atmosphere."

The origin and nature of the Oedipus myth is
here clearly stated, and the fact borne home to us
that as a myth its horrors are also myths. The
extreme difficulty lies in separating the ideal from
the real by preserving the proper Greek associations
of each Greek tragedy represented. The ancient
Greek spectator of a Sophoclean tragedy was able
to preserve these associations. He was invited to
witness the supreme crisis of an individual destiny
and was possessed at the outset with the traditions
of his race. But it must be said that these associa-
tions are not preserved by moderns without many
difficulties.

I The Scene

For one thing, there is the difficulty of creating
an appropriate Greek atmosphere in a roofed-in
theatre. Better results are, of course, to be attained
in an open-air theatre, say Bradfield College. But
even there the things that favoured the production
of Greek tragedy are lacking. Though the theatre
is open to the sky, though it commands a wide
perspective, and air full of vitality, it has not
the Greek dimensions that would enable it to seat
50,000 spectators. At Covent Garden Theatre,
therefore, a compromise had to be effected. It
was skilfully done, and no doubt it served Max
Reinhardt's purpose. As at Berlin and Frankfurt,
the whole of the interior of the theatre was made

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2i8 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

to serve the "scene," the entire proscenium was
fitted with a black screen representing the front of
the palace of Oedipus. The centre of this screen
was occupied by high, impressive brass doors, on
either side of which were three massive black
columns supporting a grim portico. The orchestra
well was covered by a black platform, with a piece
projecting from the centre upon which the altar
was placed. On either side of this " apron " flights
of steps led to the arena, or ball-floor of the theatre.
This floor formed a lower stage, and was built up
in order to enable the spectator to realise that he
was participating in the scene before him. In
pursuit of the intimacy idea, a space was cleared
in front of the stage by removing rows of stalls,
for the chorus and crowd to act in and mix with
the spectators. The front row of the stalls was, in
fact, in touch with the outer fringe of the crowd,
while all the players made their entrances and
exits through the audience at various points of the
arena. The scene was lit from all points of the
theatre according to the new methods, whereby
coloured limes are thrown on neutral surfaces,
and the desired effects obtained by mixing the
coloured rays as they fall on each object. The
principal aim of the lighting was, however, to
keep a blinding white light beating upon the
palace, and to break it up with vivid bits of
colour. The general conception of colour was
black and white, great masses of white, some-
times tinted with yellow, moving against the dense
blue background which occasionally deepened to
violet. Perhaps the most artistic effect was that

^B attainei

HIS PRODUCTIONS

219

attained by the crowd and Oedipus. Oedipus
stood on the rostrum calm and self-possessed.
Beneath him surged the infuriated mob, with
outstretched arms, swelling up to him like a
sea of angry emotions, and returning thence to
the Leader of the Chorus in response to his call.
There on one side Oedipus stood like an intel-
lectual pinnacle islanded in the billowing ocean of
human beings ; and there on the other side the
Leader stood like the Spirit of the Infinite swayed
to and fro by elemental passions.

I The Acting

The acting was contemporary. There was no
attempt to go back to tradition, but everything
was brought up to date. The cothurnus, the
mask, and other aids to Greek interpretations
were absent. Still, the chief object of the Greek
poet, that of obtaining the utmost beauty from his
only instrument, language, was not overlooked.
Rhythm, which is one of the chief components of
Greek verse, was there. In more than one instance
the words were bound rhythmically together, and
fell pleasantly on the sensitive ear. Greek immo-
bility was also successfully attained, especially in
the acting of Mr Martin Harvey and Miss Lillah
M'Carthy. The handling of the crowd revealed
Max Reinhardt's methods at their best. It was
an up-to-date crowd composed of individual
speakers, a human crowd formed of living elements,
and far more natural than the crowd composed of
undergraduates in the Frankfurt production. To

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210 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

me it was even a more wonderful crowd than the
individual one in Lysistrata^ which is considered by
many persons as the high-water mark of Reinhardt's
stagecraft. The latter crowd appears at the end of
the play and manifests the many and varied emotions
of the inhabitants of the delivered city, which has
been handed back to Eros. Colours race all over
the scene, lines (formed of dancers) advance and
recede, entwine, break, and joyously melt away.
There are shouts of laughter, singing, and every
expression of pent-up emotion. In the back-
ground, at a distance, are seen the lights of the
condemned town ; from afar come cries and
murmurs, mixed with laughter and shouting, which
gradually increase until they merge with the others
in one mighty climax of joy, and the curtain falls
on one of the finest pantomimic climaxes provided
by Reinhardt. Reinhardt's main object in arrang-
ing his crowd is to bring the latter into active
unity with the actor ; his handling of the chorus
is no less unified and harmonious. The produc-
tion of Oedipus — the English version of which
was prepared by Professor Gilbert Murray and
Mr W. L. Courtney — afforded an excellent ex-
ample of this.

It may be asked, if Reinhardt is not giving us
Greek drama, what is he giving us ? The reply is
Reinhardtism — an essence of drama of his own
distilling. Max Reinhardt may or may not know
that all the great dramatists have no common
standard for dramatic action and what is suited to
the stage, that Sophocles, Shakespeare, Racine,
Moliere, Goethe, Ibsen, have only names in com-

D„:,i.,.,„.Go^

mon, that each had a value for his own times, and
may have one for us, and, if so, it must be made
apparent to everybody. In any case, he sees each
author with the Reinhardt eye, and uses each as
an expression of the Reinhardt value, namely, a
dramatic one. Thus to Shakespeare, Goethe,
Sophocles, Kleist, and others, he gives his own
reading, and that of his co-operators, thereby
rousing the resentment of certain critics who com-
plain that Reinhardt is not Sophocles. This was
the objection raised to the production of Oedipus.
Reinhardt was told his work was " not Greek,"
and charged with having degraded a classical play.
The charge was met by Professor Gilbert Murray,
who, writing to the Times, said :

*' By ' Greek ' we normally mean classical or
fifth-century Greek. Now the Oedipus story it-
self is not Greek in that sense. It is pre-Greek ;
it belongs to the dark regions of pre-Hellenic
barbarism. It struck one of the ancient Greek
commentators, for instance, by its * senseless and
bestial cruelty.' Oedipus is pre-Hellenic ; Sopho-
cles is Greek. In the production ought we to
represent the age of Sophocles or that of Oedipus ?
The point is arguable, and I have my own view
about a middle course ; but he who insists on
keeping to the age and style of Sophocles must
also insist on dressing Macbeth in Elizabethan
ruffles.

*' Professor Reinhardt was frankly pre-Hellenic,
partly Cretan and Mycentean, partly Oriental,
partly — to my great admiration — merely savage.
The half-naked torchbearers with loin-cloths axvi

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222 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

long black hair made my heart leap with joy.
There was real early Greece about them, not
the Greece of the schoolroom or the conventional
art studio.

" The general colouring, then, was pre-Hellenic.
But Professor Reinhardt makes no profession of
treating the play with archsological reverence.
He simply takes the text and says : ' There is
drama in this, and I will bring out that drama by
every means that modern stagecraft puts in my
power.' This is obviously a legitimate line of
action. It must stand or fall by its general result.
At certain times, for instance, he beats a gong. I
think the result very effective ; some people hate
it. In any case it is the result that must be judged.
There is nothing inherently sinful, nor yet admir-
able, in beating a gong. And, in general, what is
the result ? I do not think there can be the smallest
doubt that it is — to use the bluntest and simplest
word — successful. Vast audiences come to hear
the Oedipus — audiences at any rate far larger than
Mr Granville Barker and I have ever gathered,
except perhaps once ; they sit enthralled for two
hours of sheer tragedy, and I do not think many
of them will forget the experience. That is one
test of a good production. Another is the effect
it has on the actors. And it seems to me that
practically every performer in the Oedipus is at the
very top of his powers. Certainly Mr Harvey's
superb performance has been a revelation to many
even of his admirers. How I should like to see
him as Hippolytus ! "

I
I

HIS PRODUCTIONS 223

"The Miracle "

The Mirac/e was Max Reinhardt's Gothic con-
tribution to the pantomimic spectacular drama.
It was distinguished by structural bigness, and the
quality of strength in action. The whole concep-
tion and realisation was full of tremendous energy.
It was the last word in a synthesis of music, song,
dance, colour, and line on a gigantic scale. Its
official aim is expressed in the following extract
from printed matter supplied to me by Mr C. B.
Cochran : " The Miracle is meant to be something
more than a spectacle. It aims at reaching the
highest pinnacle in the great range of dramatic
endeavour. It is not to be a pageant, yet it is of
pageantry. It is not a play or a drama in any
ordinary sense, yet it will be the greatest dramatic
play of all. It is a simple story set forth simply,
yet with all that vigour, delicacy, power, and im-
mensity which the mind of Reinhardt alone can
give to it. It is meant to make the mark of an
epoch. Th Miracle will be produced from a
scenario prepared by Dr Karl VoUmoeller, a scenario
whose power of appeal must be vastly enhanced
by the wonderful music which has been wedded to
it by Professor Engelbert Humperdinck, the com-
poser of Hdnsel and Gretel. For the interpreta-
tion of The Miracle two thousand players will be
employed, and under the direction of an eminent
conductor, an orchestra of two hundred, and an
invisible choir of five hundred, will be utilised in
the rendering of Humperdinck's music."

From this we gather that The Miracle was the

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224 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

greatest undertaking Reinhardt had attempted.
It went beyond Oedipus and transformed Sumurun^
so to speak, to the proportions of a vast amphl-
theatrical wordless play. The play itself was
variously described by the terms drama, mystery,
miracle, and so forth. It was even compared with
the Oberammergau Passion Play. But I am con-
vinced that it does not fall under these heads. To
me it had a character of its own. It was Gothic
pantomime brought up to date. Here we had a
scenario based on an old Rhine legend fitted in
with modern music, song, dance, pantomime con-
ception of decoration, and electrical and mechanical
effects.

The Story

The story has made its appearance under various
disguises. For instance, it is the theme of Maeter-
linck's miracle play Sister Beatrice. Sister Beatrice
is a young nun who is wooed and after a struggle
won by a prince. As soon as she leaves the con-
vent the figure of the Virgin is re-incarnated and
takes the erring nun's place. The action of the
Virgin is regarded by the other nuns as a miracle,
and it is believed she has come to life in order to
confer some high spiritual distinction on Sister
Beatrice. A period of years elapse, and Beatrice
returns to the convent, having tasted the bitters of
a worldly experience. Abandoned by the Prince,
she passes through vicissitude after vicissitude,
until, with health, beauty, and purity gone, she
seeks her old sanctuary. Upon her return, the
Virgin, having completed her task, assumes her

former position. Beatrice confesses her sins to
the nuns, who, however, still believe her holy and
worship her as she dies. In this scenario is the
element of mystery which great drama demands, as
well as that of silence which is one of the require-
ments of great dramatic pantomime. It is, in a
word, a cosmic theme, the importance of which
words cannot adequately convey. We enter the
action and pass in silence through a process of
disillusionment or enlightenment. We are under
cloistral restraint. We are suddenly offered a
vision of the world and its temptations. We yield

>to temptation and go forth to indulge the physical
side of us at the expense of the spiritual. We
pass from disillusionment to disillusionment till hell
is reached. And finally, we return to the spiritual
fold to exchange the impurity of our recent experi-
ence for a purity to which it should inevitably
lead. In The Miracle the theme is treated on a
broad temporal basis. As the curtain rises we are
present at a festival. We join the great procession
winding slowly across the mountain, and making
its way gradually towards the stately Cathedral.
Enshrined herein is the statue of " Our Lady,"
before whom all kneel in adoration, whilst a miracle
is performed. From among the halt, and sick,
and blind there comes a lame man, who is carried
forth within the magic, luminous glow of the
radiant statue. There is a moment of great silence
while we are initiated into the vital mystery of his

I cure. This done, we move with the great crowd,
solemnly and splendidly as it sweeps with a song
of thanksgiving over the mountain, and fringes the

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226 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

violet ribbon of the Rhine.

1 the Cathedral there I

is now no one save the Nun. She is alone with '

her I

■ new experience and the statue. She has seen
the doors of the Church open upon the world and
she dreams of its pleasures. Now comes the
Spielmann symbolising the Devil, and with the
sound of his piping is heard the joy of children's
voices. The Nun feels the stimulus of the outer
world and responds by joining in the dancing.
Thereafter we become part of an action similar
to that already described in the story of "Sister
Beatrice." A Knight appears; the Nun struggles
to repel him. For a moment she succeeds. She
closes the great doors of the world upon the
Knight and seeks the Madonna's aid. But there
is no response. A knocking at the Cathedral
doors is heard. The door opens and the Knight
appears. He advances ; the Nun yields, and
together they go forth accompanied by the Spiel-
mann piping the lay of passionate love. The
Madonna comes to life and takes the place of the
fugitive Nun. The Abbess and Nuns enter, and,
discovering the loss of the Madonna, are about to
scourge the kneeling figure, whom they beheve
to have been the cause of the disappearance of the
Madonna, when they discover her divine nature.
Then follows the intermezzo, and we pass through
the process of worldly enlightenment. The events
follow each other rapidly and are everyday inci-
dents clothed in medieval costume. There are the
adventures of the Nun and Knight, the death of
the Knight, the capture of the Nun by the Robber
Count, the death of the latter and the transferring

HIS PRODUCTIONS 227

of the Nun to the King's Son, the death of the
latter, leaving the Nun under the protection of the
King. There is the burning of the royal palace,
the charge of witchcraft against the Nun, her
rescue by the crowd, and her re-appearance as a
camp-follower carrying a baby. And there is the
Nun's return to the Cathedral seeking grace. On
top of this disillusionment by means of seduction,
murder, suicide, the Inquisition, battle, maternity,
comes the final atonement and restoration to divine
favour.

In the second act we re-enter the Cathedral with
the Nun just after the Madonna has resumed her
position as the Miraculous Image. Then follows
the discovery by the Nuns of the restored image
and of the prodigal Nun. The Miracle ends differ-
ently from that of Sister Beatrice. Beatrice dies,
while the Nun, after passing the night in the
darkened Cathedral, rises from before the Image
and passes through the great doors to toll the
Matins. Her renewed spiritual life is symbolised
by the rising sun which greets her.

The Production and Representation
The ideas influencing the production of The
Miracle were similar to those affecting the pro-
duction of Oedipus and perhaps Everytnan, There
can be no doi.bt that Reinhardt was seeking
for a means *j break away altogether from the
picture stage, to develop the idea of producing a
drama that can be acted within the auditorium
instead of within the picture-frame, and to afford
a still further illustration of what a play gains in

228 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

intimacy when its characters become part of the
audience. It may be thought by some persons
that in thus converting the auditorium into a stage,
Reinhardt was merely making a departure in one
direction in order to maite a return in another,
that he was breaking away from the tyranny
imposed upon the modern stage by the Italian
theatre of the sixteenth century, in order to expand
the innovation introduced to the English stage
about the same period. If he sought the vastest
ground area for his stage, it was merely in order
to carry on the expansion of the Elizabethan
" apron " stage, an expansion which he had long
contemplated and undertaken. But there is no
evidence forthcoming to show that Reinhardt had
any such idea. On the contrary, there is much
to show that he was strongly influenced by Greek
tradition, upon which his theatre of the five
thousand undoubtedly rests. It is more probable,
indeed, that Reinhardt regards the Shakespearean
*' apron" as an atrophied form of the Greek arena.
However, let that be as it may, Reinhardt was
bent on finding the largest stage for his "drama,"
and though Berlin from a geographical and national
standpoint would have been in his view more
suitable than London as an experimental centre,
London offered him the best building for his
dramatic purpose. He came and saw Olympia,
and at once his production became realisable. Id
the vast Exhibition Hall, having nearly four times
the floor space of the Albert Hall, he felt it was
)le to subordinate the setting to the panto-
mimic drama. The scene he had in mind was

^P that c

HIS PRODUCTIONS

229

that of the huge nave of a Gothic cathedral as
being most suitable for preserving the religious
mood created by the interpretation. Herein the
spectator could be seated and led to think of the
central theme, the Madonna and the Nun, or
the Church and the World, with less risk of
being led to think of Max Reinhardt than in
other productions. The scene itself arose as he
had conceived it. A small circle of efficient co-
operators — Hermann Dernburg, Rudolph Dworsky,
and Ernst Stern — directed the work, which was
carried out on the broad general Unes of Rein-
hardt's scenic policy, according to which every-
thing of a solid and up-to-date nature is utilised.
Doors, windows, walls, roof, columns, properties,
all are real ; the Hghting system is the completest
that can be employed ; every advantage being
taken of the latest advances made in electrical
engineering. This actuality was one of the chief
features of the cathedral scene of The Miracle.
There is no need to enter here upon the technical
details of construction, nor to mention the quantity,
weight, dimensions, and cost of the materials used.
It is sufficient to note that the Olympia was trans-
formed into a cathedral interior on the solid basis
of an actual building, that appeared to be con-
structed to stand till the cement dissolved. Ap-
parently the Gothic builders enjoyed their task of
converting a structure resembling the largest railway
terminus into one containing a likeness to architec-
tural style. They handled every expedient and
stratagem involved in this kind of struggle with
skill, and contrived, in an open way to conceal the

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230 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

original features as much as possible behind sham
columns, arches, architraves, springs, vaults, mould-
ings, and other Gothic details, thus forming a fabric
of one solid lump of concrete. They endeavoured,
indeed, in composition, and in detail down to the
designs of the stained-glass windows, to preserve the
Gothic motive. If they did not altogether succeed,
it was not their fault. The cement veil could not
be drawn over every part of the standing structure.
There were gaps. The quality of energy was
missing, and the lines throughout were anything
but light and sinewy. This was a pity, seeing that
an elastic and vigorous framework was so necessary
to serve the function for which the setting had
been designed, namely, to contribute to the action
of the play and convey the sense of motion. It
should be mentioned, however, that the Gothic
builders were largely hampered by the peculiar
requirements of the Reinhardt staging of The
Miracle. It appeared that the nave of the
cathedral was meant to serve not only as an
interior scene, but as an exterior. Thus, when
the Church had finished with it, the World entered
by a very simple contrivance. The vast Gothic
doors at one end were opened, and a huge mound
crested with trees was wheeled in. By means of
this and another contrivance the characters were
enabled to step from actuality to actuality. The
second contrivance was a huge sinking stage placed
in the centre of the arena. This platform was made
to sink, so that each time it rose it could bring a
complete change of environment. By this means
the action was carried uninterruptedly from ban-

HIS PRODUCTIONS

queting hall to bed-chamber, to inquisition chamber,
and so forth. This sinking platform was indeed
an example of Reinhardt's ingenuity, and appeared
uncommonly like an up-to-date variation of the
Shakespearean principle of alternate staging.

Along with the erection of the structure went
the laying down of the electric light installation.
Here again every department was in efficient
hands, and every angle and inch of necessary space
was utilised for the purpose of attaining desired
effects. The lighting system plays a most im-
portant part in Reinhardt's productions. Indeed,
it may be said that without light a greater part
of the emotional language of his scenes would be
lacking. The bigness of the system at Olympia
may be gathered from the fact that over ten miles
of lighting cable was laid down for a special electric
installation for the spectacle. This, when compared
with the simplicity of the stage lighting in Shake-
speare's day, takes one's breath away. Just beneath
and spanning the roof of the " nave" a bridge was
constructed, having three lime bridges or islands of
lights each containing forty searchlights or prisms.
These lights were thrown down upon the scenes
and players. Powerful arcs working from various
Lpoints of the auditorium were focussed on the
■Stage. Hundreds of lights were used to illuminate
* the Gothic windows, their rays pouring down
from all points, north, east, south, and west. For
lighting khe horizon on Reinhardt's own principle
electric battens were employed. And not only
were the lofty roof and the galleries and loft of the
.cathedral "wired" to their fullest extent, but thft

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232 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

" crypt " was also turned into a bewildering maze
of elaborate, electric mechanism.

When I visited Olympia at the invitation of
Baron von Gersdorff, Reinhardt's stage-director, I
had a full opportunity of examining the nature
and working of the mechanism. I was handed
over to the chief mechanician, under whose guid-
ance I explored the underground arrangements.
We passed down a narrow, sloping passage, which,
unlike the entrance way to the real cathedral
crypt, had no smells, earthy or unearthly, to recall
memories of priest and monk and of incensed
procession marching in step with the sound of
funeral dirge. Such smells were replaced by the
commonplace one of beams and newly constructed
brick walls forming rooms and recesses running
beneath the vast arena. As we proceeded, the low
roof and the projecting beams kept our heads
ducking like the movable noddles of toy china-
men. Big broad pipes laid along the brick walls,
for carrying steam, tripped us up. Weird objects
glared at us from the huge pit into which we
descended. Out of its centre came a heavy
elaborate mass of cogs and iron wheels, raising aloft
the platform that took the centre of the vast arena.

I Turning, we saw streams of coloured light, yellow,
blue, and white, flaming through the latticed surface
of square black boxes or prisms posed on stork-
like legs. Forty-seven electric fans drove up the
yellow silken ribbons upon which the light from the
forty arc lamps beat. The shrieks of the revellers
filled up the intervals of the fiery effects as they
made themselves felt in the conflagration overhead.

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HIS PRODUCTIONS 233

For some moments we stood in the midst of blinding
lights, flashing flames, and crashing winds. Then
the bell rang and there was the silence and dark-
ness of death. The platform descended, and with
it the resurrected dancers, moving round what was
once the banqueting hall.

Jn the matter of rehearsals of the players, it is
needless to say that the actor-director in Max
Rcinhardt dominated everything. He saw in the
production its acting possibilities, knew precisely
the value of each part, how it should be played,
and who should play it. In order to understand
his methods of selecting the cast and rehearsing it,
it is necessary to bear the fact in mind that he
has the actor's nature and approaches both play
and players from this side!) This fact largely
accounts for his choice of the right people to
interpret T/ie Miracle. He certainly found an
ideal "Madonna" in Maria Carmi (Frau VoU-
moelier), an exceptionally clever " Nun " in the dis-
tinguished dancer, Mme Natacha Trouhanowa,
and a consistent " Spielmann " in Max Pallenberg.
The same correctness of choice marked his selection
of the elements of the crowd and led him to form
an assemblage of persons that fully expressed the
drama of this particular crowd — its joys, sorrows,
horrors, superstitions, and so forth. As an actor
he is also able to feel the audience and to compose
the scenes and arrange the situations so as to have
the greatest effect upon it. That is, he knows
how to get every effect across the footlights. But
if Rcinhardt is fully equipped to rehearse a large
company himself, he also understands the value of

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234 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

intelligent co-operation, both as a time- and temper-
saving device. Accordingly, though he conceives
the work in bulk, he leaves it to be carried out in
detail by efficient co-operators. Thus, if anyone
had visited Olympia during the rehearsals of The
Miracle, he would have found groups rehearsing in
every corner of the building and everything pro-
ceeding according to an intelligently conceived and
well-ordered plan. He would have found the
dancers being rehearsed in one part of the building,
the singers in another, the crowd in another, the
music in another, and so on. And he would have
seen this continued day after day, till finally every-
thing was reduced and placed under the control
of the single instrument of the stage-director — the
switch-board. His inference would be that Max
Reinhardt himself really did very little in the
actual work of rehearsal, beyond seeing that effect
after effect was tried till the appropriate ones were
arrived at. He did not rush furiously round the
arena in a huge motor-car, as predicted by one press
agent ; he made no breathless charges upon stupid
groups of " supers," whose only desire is to handle
their weekly salary. On the contrary, he took
things quite calmly, and even came to the theatre
without a preconceived idea of what the many details
composing the whole should be. He was content
to deliver the details over to the charge of his
co-directors, and to remain watching the clay
as it passed through their hands. The advan-
tages of this co-operative method of company
rehearsing are many. The chief of them is the
immense gain in time. As an instance I may

I
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HIS PRODUCTIONS 235

^Bquote the experience of Mr Louis Calvert, who
^^ once told me that it took him, single-handed, six
weeks to rehearse the Julius Cxsar crowd at His
Majesty's Theatre, and that as a contrast he pro-
duced the Convention scene in the last act of
Robespierre in three rehearsals, owing to the fact
that he had the co-operation of several persons
who had worked with him in Julius Cttsar. He
said, " to each of these I gave a squad of men " (a

I section of the crowd). Both Louis Calvert and
Max Reinhardt know the value of concerted action.
The Decorations and Lighting "Effects
Coming to the decorations and hghting effects,
we find they were carried out under the direction of
the art co-operator, who aimed always to express his
own individuality while interpreting the spirit of The
Miracle. Ernst Stern is the gifted art-director to
whom Reinhardt entrusted the designing of the
scene, costumes, properties, and the general arrange-
ment of line and colour. It was from Herr Stern
himself at the Deutsches Theater, Berlin, that I

■.learnt the principles and methods which he applies
to a play. From his words to me, it appears that
he is accustomed to meet Max Reinhardt prior to
the production of each play for the purpose of deter-
mining its general character or spirit. Thereafter
he, the decorator, retires to his studio to develop
his portion of the work. He begins by getting the
basis of his structure, a line in character with the
motive. If the motive is Gothic the line will
have the Gothic energy and flexibility. By the use

■ of this line he anchors everything in the scene -,
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236 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

costumes and accessories become part of a design.
Next, he selects his colour, harmonising with the
line and expressing the general conception of the
motive. Thus, for example, if energy is a domi-
nant note, he would use cadmium, as in The Miracle^
or if irritation is predominant, he uses red ; but if
tranquillity is sought for, then he uses blue-greens.
But the colours have to be used very intelligently
in order to obtain the desired sensations. Next,
he selects materials having the essential colours and
design. Then he selects his characters to reflect
his line and colour as being part of the whole. If
he is using a revolving stage he next works out
his ground plan, using a model of the stage for the
purpose. Then follow sketches — suggestions for
the parts of the whole. After this he constructs
a working model of scene and figures, and adds life
to his line and colour. Finally, he attends re-
hearsals and commences to get his chiaroscuro.
By this time the scene has assumed the form of
a chess-board, upon which he moves his figures
singly and in masses, till he has obtained the
variations that go to create the atmosphere of the
original motive. All this is a method of pattern-
making which has been adopted by theatre deco-
rators on the Continent, and which was fully
applied by Herr Stern to The Miracle. Here the
form, line, and colour of the scene, costumes,
accessories, and the lights to be thrown upon them,
were determined by the twelfth-century Gothic
motive. The result was not altogether satisfactory.
But this was rather the fault of the size of the
structure than of the decorator. For one thing,

^.,Qy'.

^Bthe hu

HIS PRODUCTIONS 237

the huge proportions of the interior dwarfed the
figures and destroyed the slow dignity of move-
ment. The gigantic scarlet doors symbolising
the world were magnificent, but artistically they
had no relation to the rest of the play. The
scenes were lacking in unity. They were alj
well done, but though pictures were obviously
aimed at, in no single case would it have been
possible to put a frame and found the essentials for
making a picture. The play of colour was amaz-
ing, but owing to the fragmentary character of
the scenes it could only be seen as a brilliant
shower of confetti. In The Miracle it was notice-
able that Herr Stem obtained his colour effects
chiefly from lighting. He works by a system
according to which rays of light are thrown upon
neutral or coloured surfaces. The effects are got
by a single ray of white or coloured light, and by
two or more coloured rays mixing. In the latter
case the colours are mixed by the electricians, who
work the prisms according to a very old colour
theory. First a blue is thrown upon the white or
neutral screen ; then a note of yellow mixes with
the blue and produces green, or it may be blue
and red producing violet. There are endless
developments in this colour mixing. Exceedingly
fine effects were by this means obtained from the
misty vault of many coloured lights at Olympia,
the most beautiful being that attained by the
mixing of colours with the gorgeous robe of the
" Madonna." Herr Stern follows Max Reinhardt's
example in preferring solid to canvas scenery, and
uses plastic materials whenever it is possible.

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238 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

The Music
The music by Humperdinck, though failing to
represent throughout the subconscious element of
the audience, told the story intelligently and greatly
added to the emotional colour of the play. By its
aid alone one was able, generally speaking, to follow
the dramatic action. Thus the sustained note of
the intonation brought in the great surging crowd
swinging over the mountain. The Nun's dance
contained the note of temporal awakening, while
succeeding the dance came the shakes and twirls
on the flute indicating the torture of the Nun's
mind. Then came the subsequent note of
indecision in the music, changing to the call of
duty in the decisive notes of the trombone and
oboe, and the succeeding love motive on the
stringed instruments. The virile movement of
the triumph of the world yields to a sort of
incarnation as the Madonna takes the place of
the departed Nun. Upon the disappearance of
the Nun the drums assume the note of consterna-
tion and alarm, and so the music-action progresses
to the point where it ends with a sort of variation
upon "Sun of my Soul." In this way it moved
from act to act, occasionally missing its cue, as in
the conflagration scene, where it refused to catch
fire, and in the march past of the army, where
it forgot to give out the donkey motive. The
donkeys, by the way, were very intelligent actors.
Generally speaking, the music succeeded in bi
rather than as a whole. It appeared as thou^
the largeness of the cosmic theme was too big foi

fHumperdinck's genius. Like Herr Stern, he was
overwhelmed by the proportions of his under-
taking. In consequence, weird and fascinating bits
of composition bulged from the body of the inter-

■ pretative music, and stuck like burrs. And one re-
membered afterwards, the quaint Spielmann motive
given out on a very high clarionet, a sharp twirl
reminding one of the secret motive in the opening
of the second act of Siegfried. The diabolical motive
of death given out on the trombone and harp was
also persistent. The wonderful rhythm of the
Hungarian dance, and the quaint rhythm of the
grotesque old German dance in the banqueting
scene, the bedroom love music, the opening of the
grim inquisition scene announced by a fanfare, and
the martial roll of drums, such outstanding features
of music that sought to run and dance with the

■ drama, made a deep impression. Another notice-
able thing was that the composer had introduced a
number of old English carols and other foreign
material. In the concluding scene, for instance,
the notes of supplication, with touches of love,

■ followed by anguish as the Nun's child dies,
were succeeded by the Sicihan Mariner's hymn
as the Virgin takes the dead child, and the music-
scene is brought to a close with a well-known
I carol as the crowd enters and bears off the Madonna
in triumph.
The following figures, taken from the Pali Mall
Magazine, show the financial cost of the enter-
prise : —

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140 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

" Tlie Cost of the Production
* The cost of the production and of the eight
weeks' run that is contemplated will amount to
seventy thousand pounds. Some of the principal
sums of expenditure may be enumerated :

Costumes j^ 12,500

Scenery and properties ..... 8,000

Movable mountain ...... 800

Excavation for the Trap ..... t)^9<>

Iron framework for cathedral doors . . . i>250

Electric installation apparatus .... 3,000

Electric wiring and fixing >»S00

Use of the organ ...... 1, 000

Artists' salaries per week, including :

Principals ....... 800

Chorus of 500 1,200

1000 minor players. ..... )>725

Orchestra of 200 950

Boys and girls ...... iij

Girl dancers ....... 175

Approximately (for 8 weeks' run}, ^40,000."

The following notes on the size of Olympia
worth adding : —

Dimensions of the Great Hall . . . 440 ft. x 150
Height to crown of roof .... about 100 ft.,

The span of the roof 170 ft,'

I— The main ribs of the roof . . . . 34 f*- spart-

The roof Ig an example of large span roof.
" A Venetian Night "
A Venetian Night was by Karl VoUmoeller, with
music by Dr Friedrich Hermann. It was a species
of drama-comedy-pantomime having some of the
characteristics of The Miracle. Like the latter

M HIS PRODUCTIONS 241

spectacular wordless play, it was designed to
lend itself to the newest and widest methods of
Reinhardt production, being provided with a
scenario plot to be filled in by the producer with
all the resources at his command. Such design, how-
ever, was defeated here in England by one or two
circumstances. For one thing, the play was pre-
sented on a stage not fully adapted to its require-
ments ; for another, it fared badly in a conflict
with the Lord Chamberlain, which necessitated
alterations affecting its harmony of composition.
The Lord Chamberlain found it at the last
moment too dangerous to public morals to be
permitted to be played as it stood, and removed
his ban only after it had been altered. The in-
cident gave rise to the usual newspaper controversy,
during which Mr Granville Barker and Mr H.

Hamilton Fyfe exchanged compliments in the
^i/y Mail. But no boom resulted. The play
> unsuccessful from the start ; and all attempts

) make it appeal by hacking it about failed. At

be end of three weeks it came off.

The Slory

The story consisted of two sets of events, — the
; and the dream ones. The former occurred
1 the first, second, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth
penes ; and the latter took place in the third,
jpurth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, and
Spnth scenes. The argument is that The Young
Stranger wandering through Italy in i860 in
arch of adventure arrives, in his gondola, at an
0tel in Venice. His arrival coincides with that

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242 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

of a wedding party. The Bride, who has been
forced into a marriage by her father, has arranged
to meet the man she loves for the last time. Shi
leaves the party to give her lover a sign agreed
upon. The Young Stranger sees the sign, and
beUeving that it is intended for him follows The
Bride into the hotel. At the wedding feast and
dance that follow The Bride again signs to her
lover and points to her room. The sign is seen
and misinterpreted as before. The action next
takes us to the bedroom of The Stranger, who falls
asleep, and the succeeding incidents are the out-
come of his dream. The scene changes to the
bedroom of The Bride, in which the events take
place that called for the intervention of the official
censor. While the bridegroom is intoxicated
downstairs the lover comes to the room and a
passionate scene ensues which is interrupted by
the appearance of the bridegroom. The latter,
however, is persuaded by The Bride to leave, and
the scene is resumed and ends by the lover being
killed by a thief who enters unexpectedly. The,
Young Stranger, who meanwhile has dreamt that
he has been specially chosen to play the part of
hero and lover to The Bride, now enters prepared
to do as The Bride bids, and even undertakes
to dispose of the dead body. The remaining
scenes are taken up with The Young Stranger's,
amusing attempts to get rid of the corpse and of
the equally amusing objection of the corpse to be
got rid of. This removal of the dead gives rise
to a long and somewhat farcical chase, during which
The Young Stranger is pursued from " garret to

HIS PRODUCTIONS 243

cellar," so to speak, by various odds and ends of
hotel humanity. Beggars, waiters, the landlord,
soidiers, and public, all take up the chase. The
morning comes, and The Young Stranger is dis-
illusioned. He watches the wedding party depart
accompanied by the lover who has been introduced
to the bridegroom, and as he does so, he quietly
drops — a rose.

The Staging {Decorations and Lighting)

This thin story provided the outline with which
Max Reinhardt and his collaborators had to work.
In the endeavour to give it proper proportions and
effectiveness at the Palace Theatre, many things
had to be done. One of them was the construc-
tion of a revolving stage, without which the play
would have been utterly impracticable owing to
the rapid action demanding an equally rapid change
of scene. Indeed, it seemed as though the play
itself had been designed to test the quick-change
capacity of the revolving stage and sets. The
Reinhardt method of using the revolving stage is
described in one of the Appendices. A similar
method was adopted in the production of A
Venetian Night. The stage was set with all the
scenes before the rise of the curtain. It was
divided into four almost equal parts, — hotel ex-
terior and interior, the rooms of The Bride and
'The Young Stranger. Thus the curtain rose on
a section of the stage set with the canal scene — a
typical Venetian scene of canal, gondolas, flight of
bridges in middle distance, and hotel to the left.
By one quarter turn of the stage the colour atmo-

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244 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

sphere and movement of the canal scene was ex-
changed for those of the hotel interior. Another
turn and a bedroom appears, and so on. With
regard to the colour arrangements not much can
be said. Herr Stern did his best, but the bad
lighting killed his efforts. It was evident that
efforts had been made to put the stage lighting
to its new use, but without success. For instance,
the Reinhardt frontal and horizon lighting were
missing, with the result that the back of the stage
was mostly in darkness, and the scenes had the
appearance of falling to pieces, All this destroyed
the one great thing for which Reinhardt always
aims, viz., intimacy. As we have seen, intimacy
is the result of the collective mind of all con-
cerned in a production projecting itself towards an
audience sensitive to vibration and atmosphere.
But this mind must be fully tuned up, complete
in all details — reaching its highest force of will-
power. That is, every member of the company
and staff must be able to will in harmony, or the
said collective mind will lose in projecting force.
Thus there must be a harmony of, or equal vibrative
force exerted through the coloured lights, coloured
music, and coloured movement. If one expresses
an emotion registering 40,000 vibrations, the others
must do likewise. Otherwise, if the vibrative force
of the lighting does not equal that of the music or
of the movement, there will be a discord and the
feeling of intimacy will not be attained. There is
a physical connection between colour, sound, and
movement. This is the basis of a new search for
unity. By changing lights, and by colour mixes

HIS PRODUCTIONS 445

in the lime boxes, not only is change of time
indicated, but emotional unity of setting and
emotional effects are realised. It is in this attempt
lo get unity throughout, unity not only of setting
but of vibrative force, that Reinhardt is advancing
both beyond the Greeks and Shakespeare. The
one had limited unity — in voice and movement —
without variety ; the other variety without unity.
Reinhardt makes for unity with variety, and
harmony of vibrative force.

" Turandot"
Carlo Gozzi's Turandot was first produced in
Berlin in October 191 i. A special number of
the Blatter des Deutschen Theaters was devoted
to the exposition of its characteristics and to an
explanation of the Commedia dell' Arte. Among
the contributors were Karl Vollmoeller, who revised
the plot ; Ferruccio Busoni, the Italian composer-
pianist, who took the comedy as the basis for an
Oriental Suite, which was adapted to the Vollmoeller
play by Johann Wijsman ; and Ernst Stern, who
designed the scenery and costumes. Sir George
Alexander was present at the first production,
and secured the English rights of the play. Hence
its appearance at the St James's Theatre, London,
in an English dress provided by Mr Jethro Bithell
for the occasion. As to the origin and character
of the play : historically, it represents the final
struggle to preserve the traditions of the extem-
poraneous form of drama which began with the
improvised comedy known as Commedia dell' Arte.
Gozzi (1722— 1806) was a member of the Granel-

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246 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

leschi Society which aimed to preserve the Tuscan'
literature free from impure influences. Piclro
Chiari {1700-1788) and Carlo Goldoni (1707-
1795) were displacing the old Italian comedy by
plays based on French models. Gozzi came to
the rescue with a comedy which was represented
by the Sacchi Company of players who had been
thrown out of work by Carlo Goldoni. Subse-
quently Gozzi produced a number of pieces based
on fairy tales, but after the breaking up of the
Sacchi Company they were disregarded. The
decline of the Commedia dell' Arte is explained in
the following notes derived from the Encyclopedia
Britannica : — Italian comedy in the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries had fallen into decay, when
its reform was undertaken by the wonderful
theatrical genius of Carlo Goldoni. One of the
most fertile and rapid of playwrights {of his one
hundred and fifty comedies, sixteen were written
and acted in a single year), he at the same time
pursued definite aims as a dramatist. Disgusted
with the conventional buffoonery and ashamed of
the rampant immorality of the Italian comic stage
he drew his characters from real life, whether of
his native city (Venice) or of society at large. . . .
Goldoni met with a severe critic and a temporary
successful rival in Count C. Gozzi, who sought
to rescue the comic drama from its association
with the actual life of the middle classes, and to
infuse a new spirit into the figures of the old
masked comedy by the invention of a new species.
His themes were taken from Neapolitan and
Oriental fairy tales, to which he accommodated

Dplaeri-T^g

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HIS PRODUCTIONS

some of the standing figures upon which Goldcni
had made war. With regard to the origin of the
masked comedy (four conventional figures of which
were introduced by Gozzi into Turandot)^ it may
be noted that the improvised comedy {commedia
a soggetto) was after a time, as a rule, performed
by professional actors, members of a craft, and was
thence called the Commedia dell' Arte, which is
said to have been invented by Francesco (called
Tcrenziano) Cherea, the favourite player of Leo X.
Its scenes, still unwritten except in skeleton
(scenario), were connected together by the ancient
Roman Sannio (whence our Zany). Harlequin's
summit of glory was probably reached early in
. the seventeenth century, when he was ennobled
I in the person of Cecchino by the Emperor
Matthias ; of Cecchino's successors, Zaccagnino
and Truffaldino, we read that " they shut the door
in Italy to good harlequins." Distinct from this
growth is the masked comedy, the action of which
was chiefly carried on by certain typical figures in
masks, speaking in broad dialects, but which was
not improvised, and, indeed, from the nature of
the case, hardly could have been. Its inventor
, was A. Beolco of Padua, who called himself
I Ruzzanti (joker), and is memorable under that
tname as the first actor-playwright — a combination
of extreme significance for the history of the
modern stage. He published six comedies in
various dialects, including the Greek of the day
{1530). This was the masked comedy to which
the Italians so tenaciously clung, and in which, as
I all their own and imitable by no other nation, they

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248 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

took so great a pride that even Goldoni was unable
to overthrow it. Improvisation and burlesque
were inseparable from the species. The masked
characters, each of which spoke the dialect of the
place he represented, were (according to Baretti)
Pantalone, a Venetian merchant ; Brighella, a
Ferrarese pimp ; Arlecchino, a blundering servant
of Bergama. The four masked comedians in
Turandot were Brighella (face painted with a red
mask), Tartaglia (face painted with a white mask),
TrufFaldino (face painted with a yellow mask),
Pantalone (face painted white and red).

The Story

Gozzi then took these four stock characters
from the Venetian masked comedy and added
them to those of the five-act fantastic fairy play
Turandotte Principesse Cinese, the plot of which he
based upon the Persian story of the cruel Princess
Turandot and the handsome Prince Calaf, as
related in T/ie Thousand and One Nights. This
play was used by Schiller, who translated it for
his theatre at Weimar ; and, in spite of his heavy
handling, it survived in Germany for close upon
a century. And what is the story ? It is simply
that of the taming of a primitive feminist. There
was once a beautiful Princess of China named
Turandot who had set her mind on not getting
wed. Now Turandot was wooed by many of the
marriageable princes of her day. But so resolved
was she not to share her life with a man, that she
surrounded herself by what she imagined to be an
impassable barrier. She said to the Emperor her

father, '* You must issue an edict setting forth that
if any prince desires me in marriage he must
answer three riddles to be set by me ; and should
he fail to answer the riddles then he must die."
This the old Emperor, for the sake of peace,
consented to do.

It will be seen that the edict offers a great scope
for executions ; and it is not surprising, therefore,
that the curtain rises upon a scene that suggests
a riot in head-lopping. It is called the Gate of
Pekin. Above this Chinese Temple Bar is a row
of heads with shaven pates, that once belonged to
infatuated men who, having failed to answer the
royal riddles, have risen to this height in succession.
In order that we may see how the mind of one of
these unsuccessful suitors works when confronted
with execution, we are first of all introduced to
a prince who is being led away to his doom by
four Chinese. At this moment there comes the
Prince of Astrakan, who, as Calaf, is travelling in
:arch of love and adventure. Almost the first
;rson the prince meets is his old tutor, Barak,
whom he has not seen for years. Barak is, of
course, overjoyed to see his pupil, and agrees upon
hearing the latter's story to keep his identity
secret. Then, in answer to Calaf's inquiry, Barak
explains the cause of the commotion as well as
the meaning of the heads that adorn the gate.
But though Calaf is aghast at the cruelty of this
princess who, like her prototype in ^/ice in
Wonderland, is always exclaiming, " OiF with his
head ! " and has no mercy on men who cannot
answer her riddles, no sooner docs he see her portrait

■ ni,;HPrJM,GOOSle

250 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

than he falls madly in love with her and swears to
win her or die. It makes no difference that one
after the other the principal characters seek, to
turn him from his purpose. To one and all he
turns a deaf ear; to Barak, to the three comic
officials, Pantalone, Tartaglia, and Brighella, even
to the Emperor himself. It matters not to him
that the Emperor is growing tired of royal
executions and the international complications that
continually arise therefrom. Turandot is his game,
and Turandot he means to have — even though she
were the Sphinx. So, with a light heart, he enters
upon the guessing competition planned on such
novel, if dangerous lines. He sees no cause for
fear. Why should he ? If some men are not good i
at riddles, there are others who are adept
guessing them. And might he not be one of the|
latter i" At least he has a sporting chance. Well, i
the great moment comes, and in the Emperor'sl
divan the princess asks her riddles and, strangely I
enough, Calaf answers them correctly at once. |
Apparently he has a large stock-in-trade of the!
requisite goods on hand, for he names the abstract!
qualities of which the answers consist withouti
turning a hair. You would think that the!
princess would be overwhelmed with this display
of mental proficiency. But no, it would seem that
she regards it as an unwarrantable insult that any
man should dare to answer her riddles, and bursting
with rage she demands to be allowed to put three
more questions. If this is not playing the game,
it is hot her fault ; she maintains that she was
taken unawares and was not ready for deep think-

HIS PRODUCTIONS 251

Bit, given another opportunity, she will ask
..ddles that shall not fail to make Calaf lose

his head. Her imperial father does not agree.
He has had enough of her riddle-making business,

»and desires to see her better employed — wedded to
the prince who has fairly won her. The prince,
however, touched by her angry annoyance, proposes
to give her another chance ; and he does so by
asking her a question which she has to answer
correctly the next day. If she fails to answer it
then she must marry him ; if she answers it then
he will die. Turandot consents, and Calaf sets her

»to guess his name and that of his father.
It will be seen in a moment that it is a question
giving rise to endless intrigue, and with the open-
ing of the second act Turandot is in this dilemma :
either she must discover the two names and thus
uphold her wild feminist head, or she, the un-
conquered, must consent to further defeat and

t humiliation at the hand of one of the hated sex.
How to get the names, that is the question f Does
anyone know Calaf f Yes, Barak's wife does.
Then let Barak's wife be sent for, and sent for she
is. Barak's wife, however, does not know ; but

»she knows that her husband knows. So Barak is
sent for, and from him Turandot subtly endeavours
to draw the secret. But Barak is dumb, and
torture has no terror for Calaf's faithful tutor.
Then, just as Turandot is about to put him to
torture, her fatuous old father arrives. It seems
that the latter has learnt the fateful names, and not
wishing to see his daughter further humiliated, and

■wishing to be of service to Calaf at the same time,
I ni,:ii,.,-iM,C00<;lc

1S2 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

offers to reveal the names if she will stop her
nonsense and give way to Calaf. But Turandot
refuses. Meanwhile Calaf, who has been locked
up in the palace by the orders of the Emperor, is
having the time of his life. One after the other
the principal characters come to him seeking to
pierce his identity. First there are three of the
comedians. Then Zelima, Turandot 's gentle slave,
tries her hand and fails. Finally Adelma, her
favourite slave, comes in and tries to frighten
Calaf into running away with her. She tells him
that she is a princess in her own right, and if they
fly together they will live, on the whole, in a
happier state. Calaf believes her, but does not
quite see how it bears upon the question, because
whatever happiness there may be in other countries,
it is not so much as it will be in this ; for he
loves the princess. Unfortunately, however,
his desire to put the matter as clearly as possible
before Adelma he inadvertently reveals his identity.
Of course, after this, Turandot is ready in thi
third act with her answer. Calaf is so disturbed to
hear it that he attempts to stab himself ; but Turan-
dot, who has been touched by his magnificence,
arrests his hand. Exclaiming, " You shall live for
me," she withdraws her ban on men. On hearing
these words the jealous Adelma tries to fall on
Calaf's dagger. Calaf prevents her doing so, and
Turandot, now magnanimous where she was once
heartlessly cruel, petitions her father to restore
Adelma to freedom. The old Emperor, who is
now thinking of wedding gifts, does so, adding by
way of " conscience money " the kingdom which

^^^^ HIS PRODUCTIONS 253

^Hlie has taken from Adelma's noble father, whose
royal head doubtless adorns one of the Gates of
Pekin.

■ Decorations and Lighting

Needless to say, a story such as this, somewhat
poor and commonplace though it be, offers infinite
possibilities to the imaginative decorator with a
feeling for strong Oriental colour. It found in
Herr Stern the imagination it required. Ernst
Stern belongs to the new era of stage reform on
the Continent, which has brought forward an
entirely different class of scenic-artist who has
sought to apply the principles of art — not mechanics
and hydraulics— to the scene. Artists of this class
are not required to turn out painted flats with
impossible shadows, and back-cloths with stupid
perspectives, but to design and give unity, due
proportion, and harmony to the scene and all that
it contains. To this class Herr Stern belongs ;
and his work represents all the difference between
the English scene-painter like Harker or Telbin
who contracts to build a scene to order, fill in the
stage space with a miscellaneous collection of
painted flats, cloths, borders, etc., and the German
scenic-artist who co-operates with the director in
producing decorations that express the spirit of the
play. Herr Stern is indeed one of the strongest,
"best equipped, and most brilliant of the said class
■of scenic-artists, and he marks the advance of
Germany not only in scenery designing but in the
designing of everything in a production. In
^Germany he takes his place as art-director ; in

h. i."iM,CoogIc

254 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

England he would be regarded as a tradesman.
For it cannot be emphasised too often, that here,
in this country, the theatre is still in the hands of
the scene manufacturer whose business it is to turn
out serviceable stuff to order, much as a house
furnisher supplies manufactured goods for a desir-
able residence. Such scenic stuff may be exported
or reserved for home use, being readily adaptable to
any play. As a matter of fact, the English scenic-
painter is a practical mechanic. He has a
thorough knowledge of the requirements of the
stage and a factory wherein he is, at all times,
prepared to meet such requirements. When he is
asked to provide an interior with so many doors
and windows, and an exterior with so many garden
rows and lengths of hanging creeper and a ros-
trum on which the leading gentleman may make
his last dying speech and confession, he forthwith
supplies them. Still, bad as things are in the
theatre in this country, more than one thoughtful
person has remarked a change for the better ; and
what with the fine pioneering work of Gordon
Craig and the visits of Ernst Stern, there has arisen
a greater disposition to make the representation of
plays less dull and tedious. Herr Stern's methods
of work have already been examined in the account
of The Miracie, and therefore there is no need to go
into them here. Turandot afforded him the widest
scope for the display of his immense abilities ; and
one gathered from such slender evidence as the pro-
duction of the play at the St James's Theatre offered,
that he had made a far more important thing of it
even than The Miracle. The evidence was slender,

owing to the restrictions put upon the production

■ by the St James's Theatre, to which I shall refer
presently. Whatever pleasing results were attained
at this theatre, I think far better ones were attained
at the Deutsches Theater, where everything was
prepared to receive the play and to give it the
widest expression.

• In the official organ of the Deutsches Theater for
igii, Herr Stern states his conception of the
decorative treatment of Turaiidot. He reminds
us that Turandot is a child of the Rococo spirit ;
that this spirit belongs to every period of culture.
Thus, it makes out of every culture a delightful
play pleasing " to the elegant world from Paris to
Venice." Out of the Greek culture a pastoral ;
out of the Oriental culture a story from The Thousand
and One Nights ; out of the Chinese culture a
porcelain fantasy. It is never serious, never real,
pedantic, historical, or ethnographical ; but always

» occupied with illusion and joy. Hence it offers
unbounded freedom to the artist, and does not
fetter him to any one age. A present-day per-
formance of Gozzi's Turandot, if seen with the
Rococo eye, cannot reconstruct China of to-day,
but that of the eighteenth century. So we con-

Ijure out of the Emperor's throne-room a Chinese
fantastic city with its illuminated houses of papier
mSche ; Turandot dwelling in her highly-lacquered
room ; Prince Calaf dreaming his love dreams
guarded by two giant vases. But to all this the
present-day decorator may add something of his
own. Hence Turandot is not a Chinoiserie of 1760,
but a Chinoiserie of 191 1.

^byCoogle

156 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Needless to say, such a conception did not call
forth archiological correctness, but an amazing
display of improvised colour and line. Herr Stern,
indeed, let himself go in a world that suited him
best ; with the result that he obtained a kaleido-
scopic splendour of effects many of which could not
fail to dwell in the memory of the spectator. Who
does not remember the quaint, gorgeous, and splendid
Chinese costumes moving riotously in rich masses
or separately against harmonious backgrounds ; the
dazzling processions of soldiers, slaves, lamp-bearers,
composing themselves against the curtains of the
butterflies and the dragon ; the coloured pomp and
circumstance ; the sumptuous ceremony ; the em-
broidered absurdity ; the purple tones of Calaf's
bedroom ; the street scene at night with the pagoda
houses and their lighted windows ; the rich, final
divan scene.

But if the decorator let himself go it was in the
face of difficulties over which he had no control.
The chief difficulty was perhaps the lighting. It
cannot be repeated too often that the appeal to the
eye is the essential feature of the Reinhardt dramatic
production. In this connection the German pro-
ducer takes every advantage of the enormous
advance in the methods of stage lighting, especially
utilising the increased power of illumination by
electricity. Of course, the innovation has the
fault of its magnitude. The fault of the Reinhardt
system of lighting from the front is that a great
deal of the apparatus is visible to the audience, and
will remain so till Reinhardt employs a system of
lighting by means of which the apparatus is entirely

HIS PRODUCTIONS 257

hidden from the audience. It is said that such a
system has been devised, and will be seen in use in
London shortly. In spite of this fault, Reinhardt
gets immense effects from his lighting, and plans
all his productions to utilise his system in full. As
a consequence, he cannot present a play produced
under the conditions of lighting at the Deutsches
Theater at another theatre not so well equipped
without risking a loss of decorative effect. The
loss is significant, for it means that a part of the
original design has been seriously affected, and the
essential cumulative effect on the audience cannot
be attained. This was the case at the St James's
Theatre, where the old method of lighting is still
in use, and where the stage is lit from the top with
battens, from the bottom with footlights and rows,
from the sides with perches and wing ladders, and
from the flies, and where the front of the house
lighting is not in use. The effect of this lighting
was particularly noticeable in the curtain scenes.
The proscenium lights, for instance, fell in patches
on the curtains and interfered with their colours
and designs. Then the lighting at the back was
sometimes so strong as to make the curtains trans-

I parent ; then it was unequal, and thus tended to
kill the figures moving against a strongly-lighted
patch. For instance, in the Princess's room, when
she and some dancing girls are moving about, the
orange-red background is so strong and out of tune
that the figures lose all interest. The lighting of
the first scene, "The Gates of Pekin," with its
harmony of white gates, blue sky, and red lights,
was also far too strong for the colours worn by the

Coo<;lc

258 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

characters. Better results were attained in the
first harem scene, with its delightful harmonies of
purple, blue, and red hanging lamps, and in Calaf's
room which, with its purple background, green
and purple bed, purple and gold prince and orange
lamps, made a simple and very telling composition,
the effect of which was heightened by the entrance
of the slaves, especially the one dressed in green
and carrying a yellow lamp. The three magnificent
decorated curtains suffered most from defective
lighting, and one could only imagine the full beauty
of their colour and design — one with two coloured
butterflies on a big simple blue ground, and another
with dragons moving against a tremendous mass of
orange.

The Music
Busoni's music was cleverly adapted to tell the
story. The prelude introduced us to the scene,
and the principal characters were given their
themes. The entrances were announced, the
Emperor's by a fanfare, Turandot's being given
out by the 'cellos and basses, and so on ; the
music thus moving and acting throughout the
play. Much of the music is indeed worthy of
quotation as an example of its successful application
to the needs of the drama.

"The Taming of the Shrew"

This account of the production of The Taming
of the Shrew belongs, in most respects, to the
Appendix on " Recent Developments in England."
If I have decided to place it here, it is because,

HIS PRODUCTIONS 259

it revealed a more direct application of Max
Reinhardt's ideas than was to be found in Mr
Granville Barker's two Shakespearean productions.
For instance, it was Reinhardt's idea to preserve
the "play within a play" illusion throughout, not
only by seating the intoxicated Sly where the
orchestra well usually is, and from where, partly
seen, he can witness the play which he believes is
being presented for his special benefit ; but by
making all the changes of scene by the use of
properties, which appear to be actual properties,
either brought on by the players in their waggon
or extemporised out of the furniture and effects
of the Lord's house. It will be gathered from
this that a great deal is left to the imagination of
the audience, as in the Chinese play, The Teilow
Jacket.

I was, unfortunately, not able to attend a per-
formance of the play, and I am therefore indebted
to Mr Martin Harvey for his extreme courtesy
in placing me in possession of the following facts
on the general production. Perhaps the chief
point of interest was Mr Harvey's collaboration
with Mr William Poel, thus establishing a link
with Reinhardt, and completing the circle of
modern Shakespearean rediscoverers — from Poel,
Savits, Reinhardt, to Harvey and Barker. Mr
Poel's ideas were to be traced in the representation
of the play in the Elizabethan manner : the uncut
text, the continuous performance, the Elizabethan
setting with its open stage and the absence of the
usual proscenium arch, the absence of modern
scenery, and an air of scholarship which distin-

iM,Coo;

26o THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

guishes the Poelean from the Reinhardtian Shake-
spearean production. The ideas were there, though
not always fully expressed. Thus the setting
of The Taming of the Shrew used by Mr Harvey
at the Prince of Wales' Theatre was invented
by himself as a result of his personal experi-
ence of the open stage and decorative or scenic
economy, which were the basis of Reinhardt's
mounting of Oedipus, and of certain conversations
and consultations with Mr Poel. The idea of
placing Sly on the covered-up orchestra well was,
as we have seen, suggested by Max Reinhardt.
But from Mr Poel came much valuable advice,
particularly as to how the mind of a modern
audience, with its strong bent towards overwhelm-
ing realistic detail, would meet the challenge to
its taste and imagination offered by the use of bare
essentials and indications of scenery such as it was
proposed to use in this revival.

The Setting

The setting invented by Mr Harvey was as
follows : — The footlights were removed and the
stage extended a foot or two into an " apron."
From each end a flight of steps led down to a
lower platform which covered in the orchestra
well. In the centre of the platform stood a carved
stone seat with its back to the audience, command-
ing a view of the stage, and being about four feet
in width. To this seat, after the " Induction," the
bemused Sly and his pseudo-wife were conducted
by the Lord's Majordomo, and here they sat
throughout the play, excepting the few minutes

HIS PRODUCTIONS

occupied by the one interval in the action, during
which they retired behind the curtain. The stage,
the front structure, the steps, and the seat on the
platform were painted a subdued grey, against which
the colours of the costumes and furniture moved
brilliantly. The grey was repeated in a cloth
which, reaching to the roof and extending to the
edges of the boxes on either side, masked in the
ordinary proscenium arch. The opening thus
obtained was marked and framed with a bold arch
of monster green laurels forming a semicircular
arch. In the centre and at the sides were bows
of broad gilt ribbon, harmonising with the re-
naissance style of decoration. The front arch was
repeated by three false arches seen in perspective,
and set behind each other up the stage. The sides
of the arches served as " wings," while their curved
tops served as " borders " to limit the sight line
of the spectator. The three arches were of black
wood with a gold pattern. Thus the entire stage
was converted into a large Pavilion or Hall with
an outlook at the back on to a broad landscape and
a wide road disappearing in the distance. Across
the back of the stage ran a terrace with a black
stone balustrade both on its outer and its inner
edge. In the centre of the terrace a flight of three
steps led down on to the stage, and a corresponding
opening at the back suggested a similar flight on
to the open landscape. The opening at the back
was marked by two conventional bay trees clipped
circular and festooned with gold. A bold triple
festoon of twined laurels and gold hung at the
furthest archway across the skyline.

byCoogle ,

262 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Changes of Scene

First. Induction. The act drop, formed by
the two heraldic curtains, was parted disclosing
two tapestried curtains depicting an Italianate
landscape. This curtain scene served for the
scene in which Sly is discovered outside the
Alehouse.

Second. — The Lord's Chamber. Also played In
curtains set a few paces further up the stage, and
discovered by drawing apart the tapestries. These
were of white Roman satin, and each was decorated
in the centre with a large medallion painting illus-
trating the Lord's *' wanton pictures."

Third. — The curtains were drawn aside and the
stage fully disclosed, thus preparing for the entrance
of the players who entered in a waggon which was
drawn in on the upper terrace. The waggon was
painted scarlet and yellow, in harmony with the
motley of the players.

Fourth and succeeding. — Then the business
between Katharina and Petruchio began, the
various scenes being played in curtains and screens
employed to mark succeeding interiors and exteriors.
The screens were large pieces of canvas about eight
feet high and broad, painted grey, and stencilled
with a graceful gold festoon pattern near the top.
Each was run into position by a servant dressed in
the period, who stood hidden behind his particular
section. The pieces, it may be said, were joined
to a continuous flat surface or an irregular frontage
just as desired. Stage properties, such as chairs,
tables, and so on, were placed in position by the

HIS PRODUCTIONS

263
audience, while

^H said servants, in full view of thi

^B the curtains were being changed.

^B In the second half of the play a large canopied

^H seat with a table in front occupied the centre of
the stage whenever a scene was supposed to be
taking place in Petruchio's house. These properties
were so arranged that they could be hoisted into
the flies while a screen scene was being played.
Finally, the banquet was arranged at a long table
similar to that used in Leonardo's " Last Supper."
The lighting of this scene came from three large
candelabra carried on by the servants, Biondello,
Grumio, and Tranio, who walked at the head of
the procession of guests. The back-cloth was lit

■ with a deep blue Italian night colour.
At the conclusion of the play all the players danced
across the stage hand in hand to the air of a jig
played by musicians who, during the supper scene, sat
on the terrace with their instruments of the period.
It should be mentioned that during the one

■ interval of the play, the drop curtains were raised,
disclosing a bower of golden trelliswork entwined
with golden bay leaves against a curtain forming a
deep blue background. Seated in this bower a
trio of musicians played a selection of old English

^byGooole^H

FORTHCOMING
REINHARDT PRODUCTIONS

" The Yellow Jacket "

Among the plays which Reinhardt has marked out
for production are The Tellow Jacket^ and, in co-
operation with Mr Martin Harvey, Mamlety on the I
lines of the Berlin production, and the second play
of the Oedipus trilogy, Oedipus at Colonus, which
Professor Gilbert Murray will translate, and which
will be given by Mr Harvey as a second part^ in ■
continuation of Oedipus Rex. I

As Max Reinhardt proposes to adapt the London-
American version of The Tellow Jacket, it may not
be out of place to state the main features of this
version. The Tellow Jacket, then, was produced at
the Duke of York's Theatre under the management
of Mr Gaston Mayer. It came to London from
America, where its novelty had attracted consider-
able attention. Though it did not contain all the
elements of a pure specimen of the Chinese drama,
— its authors, George C. Hazelton and Benrimo,
being careful to say so, — nevertheless it revealed
sufficient to show the enormous imaginative value of
this species of drama, alike from a point of view of j

FORTHCOMING PRODUCTIONS 265

representation and interpretation. In some ways it
carried the mind of the spectator back to the origin
of the Chinese drama, concerning which I cannot
do better than quote from the account by Dr Lionel
Giles, sent to me by Mr Mayer, for the purpose.

" It seems probable," says Dr Giles, " that the
drama in China, like that of Greece, had its
origin in the sacrificial ceremonies of religion.
We know that in the time of Confucius, 500 b.c,
it was customary for solemn dances to be performed
in the ancestral temples, at which feathered wands,
battle-axes, and other objects were brandished in
unison by the dancers. We also hear of pantomimic
displays and representations of ancient historical
events, divided into a number of scenes. Certain
ceremonies for the expulsion of evil spirits, in
which a house-to-house visitation was made by
villagers dressed in fantastic garb, may also have
some connection with the beginnings of dramatic
art. Others are inclined to derive the drama from
the puppet shows, which, from time immemorial,
have been a feature of the life of the people, and
they point to the fact that in many parts of China
a theatrical performance is still preceded by a dis-
play of marionettes. However that may be, it is
certain that for the immense period of twelve
hundred years after the time of Confucius no great
development of the drama can have taken place, if
indeed it can be said to have existed at all. No
record of anything in the nature of a modern stage-
play can be traced until the reign of the Emperor
Ming Huang of the T'ang dynasty, in the first
half of the eighth century a.d. Being exccption-

I I. ■■, ii>,CoogIc

266 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

ally fond of song and dance, this emperor Is said'
to have founded a sort of academy known as thi
' Pear-tree Garden,' where a company of three'
hundred persons was personally trained by him for
the production of what, for want of a better name,
may be described as operas. Music must have
constituted the basis of these performances, but it
seems that the slender thread of a story was also
introduced between the choral songs ; and to this
day actors in China are often called 'Apprentices
of the Pear-tree Garden.'" According to Mr A,
Corbett-Smith, this " Guild of the Young Folks of
the Pear Garden," as he terms it, has a relation to
the founding of the historical drama in China — a
form of drama which finds greatest favour with the
Chinese public. Writing in The Era, he mentions
that the Emperor Huan Tsung (a.d. 753), being
desirous of showing his affection for his wife,
asked his Prime Minister to devise a novel form of
entertainment. This the latter did by searching
the historical records and instructing " some of the
noblest and most graceful of the youths about the
Court " how to recite the narratives thus un-
earthed. The entertainment was given in " a
gorgeous pavilion amidst blossoming fruit-trees,"
and '* the institution of a Guild or College of
Dramatic Art" was the result. With regard to
the modern stage-play, Dr Giles tells us that
"modern Chinese plays still follow, in external
construction, at any rate, the model of the dramas'
produced under the Mongols. They are usually
divided into four acts, with or without a prologue,
and are accompanied throughout by an orchestra

□„..^_,,Gj

I FORTHCOMING PRODUCTIONS 267

Consisting of gongs, drums, and cymbals, besides
string and wind instruments. The words are
delivered in a high-pitched recitative, varied by
bouts of chanting in passage, where special stress
is required for the heightening of emotion or the
utterance of moral reflections. There is, as a rule,
one particular character who breaks at intervals
into songs, and fulfils in some degree the function
of a chorus. Few Chinese plays last much over
an hour. It is the rule for a number of plays to be
performed continuously. This accounts for the
widespread notion that Chinese plays are ridicu-
lously long." As to the actors and women on the
stage : " A full Chinese theatrical company is made
up of fifty-six persons. The various roles are
classified and kept distinct, each actor being expected
to play only one particular class of character. The
principal classes are : (1) Sheng, including the
parts both of hero and walking gentleman ; (2)
Ching, the bold and unscrupulous villain ; (3) Tan,
the female parts, respectable and otherwise ; (4)
Ch'ou, the low comedy man. Contrary to the
usual belief, women took part in theatricals
throughout the Mongol and Ming dynasties, and
a stop was only put to the practice as late as
the eighteenth century under the reign of the
Emperor Ch'ien Lung, whose mother had herself
been an actress. Of recent years the ban has been
removed, and an increasing number of women are
again performing on the public stage. Chinese
actors are notoriously among the finest in the
world, those who take female parts showing
particular skill and likewise commanding the

i. ■. ih,Coo<;lc

16* THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT |

hi^Kst salaries. Gorgeoos dresses are worn, and
the ittake>^p, if not always realistic, is strikinglyl
effective. The actor's life is often wretched inH
the ciireme. Boaght or hired from poverty-T
stricken parents at an carty age, he is subjected '
to a very rigorous course of both histrionic and
acrobatic training. In addition, he has to memor-
ise between a hundred and two hundred parts, soJ
as to be able to appear in them at a moment's
notice, without rehearsal or prompter. In spite o^
his comparatively high intellectual standard, he is,J
nevertheless, regarded as a social outcast, and all]
his descendants, to the third generation, are!
debarred from competing in the public examina-l
lions.'* As to the theatres : " Permanent theatres *
in the proper sense of the word are to be found
only in Peking and Canton and some of the larger
treaty ports. Even in these, the accommodation
is very simple. There is a pit furnished with
benches and a table In front of each, and a balcony
divided into a number of separate boxes. Thci
stage, which is built out into the auditorium so asJ
to be commanded on three sides, must on no 1
account face west, this being the inauspicious
quarter controlled by the White Tiger. There is J
no scenery, no curtain, and but few accessories. J
Two doors at the back serve, one for entrance, the J
other for exit. The theatre, except where customs I
have been modified by foreign influence, is free to I
all, but it is understood that every visitor will pay 1
for some refreshment." As to stage conventions :
" Owing to the complete absence of scenic
accessories, it is obvious that a great deal has

FORTHCOMING PRODUCTIONS 269

be left to the imagination of a Chinese audience.
As each character enters, he tells you himself,
quite in the manner of Bottom, who he is and
what part he has to play in the coming drama.
The members of the orchestra sit on the stage
itself, and footmen wait at the sides ready to
carry in screens, chairs, tables and the like, where-
with to represent city-walls and houses, forests
and even mountains. An actor will gravely
bestraddle a stick and prance about the stage as
though on horseback, without the least fear of
evoking a smile. Or, if dead, he will contrive to
alter his face and then get up and carry himself
off, making movements as though acting the part
of a bearer. Again, it is quite a usual thing for a
player who is getting hoarse to have a cup of tea
handed to him by an attendant. A change of
scene is indicated by pantomimic action, or by all
the dramatis personje walking rapidly in single file
round the stage."

With the foregoing facts before us, it is possible
to determine how far TAe Yelloiv Jacket expressed
the real Chinese drama, staging and acting, which
doubtless have an important message for us if only
we could get at the meaning of it.

The Story

Of the two classes, military and civil, into which
Chinese plays are divided, The Telhw Jacket belongs
to the latter. Judging by its story, the play answers
the description of a fairy tale in which cruelty and
craft are met by fidelity and self-sacrifice, with
poetic justice in the end. This is also a descrip-

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270 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

tion which may be applied to the English Morality
play. The story is concerned with the adventures
of a certain member of the lordly Wu family.
When the curtain rises Wu Hoo Git — for such is
the name of the hero — is supposed by his wicked
father to have been slain, together with his mother,
in infancy. But it seems that the mother wrote
her child's history with her own blood upon his
clothes, and a peasant and his wife saved him and
brought him up in ignorance of his parentage.
Thus he reaches manhood. Meanwhile his brother
has supplanted him on the throne, and knowing
Wu Hoo Git's identity, employs every means to
bring about his ruin and death, being assisted in
his endeavour by an evil misshapen creature Yin
Suey Gong by name. The latter does his best to
get rid of the hero. For one thing, he induces
him to purchase a love damsel for a large sum,
without, however, attaining any better result than
that of opening the eyes of the hero to the fact
that love of the sort is too expensive a luxury.
Along with a desire for knowledge the hero developts
a Chinese craving for ancestors. Something tells
him that he does not belong to the humble rank
of his foster-parents. Accordingly, he sets out like
Japhet in search of a father, meeting with all sorts
of strange adventures on the way which the crafty
Yin Suey Gong is careful to honeycomb with pit-
falls. When, however, a pitfall appears, there ts
the shade of his grandfather to protect the hero.
One of the adventures is the meeting with " Plum
Blossom," Moy Fah Loy, with whom he falls in
love. But there is an obstacle to their union. TJ

FORTHCOMING PRODUCTIONS 271

hero has " no name." Then comes the disclosure
by his foster-father of his identity. But this
knowledge does not complete his happiness. There
is still the throne occupied by the usurper to be
3n ; and till that is accomplished and he has
placed the coveted distinction, the symbol of
Honour, the gorgeous Yellow Jacket, on his own
shoulders, there can be no peace for him, and his
wanderings may not cease.

Such is the kind of story which lends itself to
the peculiar Chinese methods of representation and
interpretation. Representation, as we have seen,
is quite a primitive affair. Dr Giles tells us there
is no attempt to stage plays as in the Western
method. The stage is Uttle more than a platform
projecting into the auditorium and designed merely
to accommodate the orchestra and players, and the
scenery a mere device to hide the walls. We
cannot call this revolutionary, though there are
some extremists who would identify it with the
movement towards simplified staging. In the
strict sense it is not revolutionary, seeing that
the present search is for staging that grows out of
the dominant mood of a play, and is not merely
an adjunct to speech and action. At the Duke
of York's Theatre the staging was no more than a
makeshift. Thus the stage was squared up to the
size of a fairly large scene, the scenery consisting of
flats and a little built-up gallery in the centre of
the back of the stage. There was an entrance to
the left at the back of the stage, and an exit to the

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272 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

right at the back. Between these was an opening
nine feet high, forming an alcove containing four
Chinese musicians and their instruments. At the
back of the alcove, hidden from the audience by
lattice work, was a second and stringed orchestra.
Above the alcove was a gallery, to which the
characters ascended as to Heaven after having died
on the stage. In front of the alcove was a small
black desk at which the Chorus sat. Lying at the
left side of the stage was a ladder which was used
whenever a character was required to ascend to the
little gallery or Heaven. Down left of the stage
was the property man's box. The decorations
consisted simply of long red scrolls, some Chinese
landscapes hung on the yellowish walls, a large
yellow lamp hung in centre, and black and gold
tapestries hung over the entrance and exit. The
scene was lighted in the English manner, by front
battens, footlights, and side limes, the colours used
being warm yellow and amber.

TJ^ Corrventions

According to one of the authors, Mr Benrimo,
the Chinese conventions were not rigidly adhered
to. For instance, he speaks of the Chorus as an
" innovation." At the Duke of York's the Chorus
sat at his desk in the centre of the stage and
announced each scene in turn, after each announce-
ment resuming his seat and his cigarette till the
scene ended. In the true Chinese manner the
change of scene would be indicated in such notices
as "This is a Forest," or "This is a Sea-shore."
But at the Duke of York's the Chorus announced

W FORTHCOMING PRODUCTIONS 273

the scene, such as " A Courtyard in the House of
Wu Sin Yin," or " A Room in the House," or
" A Road leading to the Palace " ; and the only
difference in the scene was a change of furniture,
Stools, etc., which were carried on and off by
assistant property men. But if the Chorus was
" invented," the Property Man was the real thing.
He externalised, indeed, the great principle applied
by the Chinese to their plays, that of the Invisible
expressed by the Visible, He sat at the left side
of the stage ready to hj Bl out the primitive props
as they were requirei-h' When the dead wished
to ascend to Heaven the Property Man placed the
ladder for him. When the hero needed a snow-
storm, the Property ?*jan provided one. No
matter what was required, — a mountain, a cataract,
a cushion representing a severed head, " a flower-
boat floating down th ■ river of love " (symbolised
by a seat, a ( Reinnund some bamboo sticks),
swords, willow's produc^n a cup of coffee, — there
was the Propertss in thi'o supply it in his quaint,
scornful, and in>pch oth ^le fashion.

Its Cantrw^ v, , ro Current Reform
In spite of its obviStan fakes, The Tell<nv Jacket
makes a distinct contributioh, to the movement in
the theatre. It comes as a ,strong challenge to
a public accustomed to the fallajcies of a movement
aiming to express the materialistic reaUties of life.
It comes at a moment when,- the drama is busy
turning towards a new Reality — the Reality of the
Imagination, and away from t\he old Reality of the
Intellect. And the mind of y the spectator who

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274 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

witnesses it cannot fail to be awakened to the
immense possibilities of its spirit of simplicity and
child-like make-believe, in adding a much-needed
impulse to creative authorship and creative acting ;
as well as in stirring the public to a consciousness
of the seeming reality and apparent genuineness
of the gigantic shams which pass in our midst for
the drama and dramatic representation. It em-
phasises the truth that the drama is concerned
with the Invisible expr . '-d by the Visible, and
not with the Visible ex^eS^ .*^ by the Visible, as
in contemporary realistic I^ays.

" Hamlet"

Hamlet has been produced three times in Germany
by Max Reinhardt, the first occasion being at
the Munich Theatre in June 1909. The pro-
ductions were notable for the performances in the
leading part, of Bassermarc, Kain?:, and Moissi.
They were also distinguishi/i by techinical progress,
each production being ai advancf^ on its pre-
decessor. The third cne was given at the
Deutsches Theater, BerJn, in J**f.ovember 1910.
In the attempt to make '- surp/iss his two previous
efforts Reinhardt spare/ nj*^her time nor money.
He endeavoured to g^asp the fullest possibilities of
the new freedom offtred by the open stage with a
curtained background that came first from England
•uia Munich, followed Sir Herbert Tree's example,
and experimented in a revival on Elizabethan
lines. It is not cletr how much Max Reinhardt
derived from Sir Herbert Tree's Hamlet produc-
tion ; but there is ao doubt that he was influence!

I
I

FORTHCOMING PRODUCTIONS 275

by it to some extent. It will be recollected that
when Sir Herbert went to Berlin some years ago
he took Hamlet with him, and departing from his
usual custom of presenting Shakespeare in the
splendid manner, did Hamlet in simple hangings.
And he did so, not because he had changed his
theory that Shakespeare should be sumptuously
dressed, but because he was of the opinion that
Hamlet lends itself to a treatment different from
that of the other Shakespearean plays. Hence
after playing Hamlet in Berlin in simple hangings,
he did not hesitate when he revived the play in
London, four or five years ago, to do it in tapestries.
Thus the Court scenes were played in plainly
painted tapestries of a conventional medieval kind,
such as might be hung in a castle, the outdoor
scenes being played in tapestries on which were
painted tall pine trees stretching right up into the
proscenium. Reinhardt also derived from Sir
Herbert Tree's production of A Midsummer Nighfs
Dream, doubtless in the way that all talented men
derive from each other. But if he employed
principles applied by Sir Herbert Tree in Hamlet^
he also went beyond him at least by carrying his
stage into the auditorium. He built in the
orchestra and removed three rows of stalls for the
purpose. By this means he got a much enlarged
stage and was able to work the three divisions into
which he divided it with greater freedom, either
for interiors or exteriors, for scenes containing one
or two characters, or crowds, as the case might be.
The formation of the stage, in details of build and
fitment, resembled that of the stage used h^j Ms

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276 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Granville Barker for his production of A Winter's
Tale, as described in the Appendix on " Recent
Developments in England." Thus the stage was
worked on equally rapid lines answering to the
action-structure. The violet curtain before which
Laertes takes leave of Polonius was raised and the
scene became the "Throne Room," which, by the
dropping of a dark green curtain changed to a
scene in which the King appears, and which in
turn was transformed, by the raising of the
dark green curtain, into a room hung with a
red curtain, representing the chamber of Hamlet's
mother. By changes of light, scenes were also
changed. So throughout the play the scenes
changed and moved swiftly by an ingenious
interchange of curtains and lighting.

HIS CONTRIBUTION TO THE CONTEM-
PORARY STAGE AND HIS INFLUENCE

Having examined the immense activities of Max
Reinhardt, it becomes of importance to inquire,
What contribution is Max Reinhardt making to
the contemporary artistic movement in the theatre,
and what is his influence upon England ? The
answer to the first question is that he is demonstrat-
ing that a theatre may be run successfully on a
commercial and artistic basis. In doing so he is
really opening the door upon the purely art theatre.
To-day there are three classes of theatre with which
the minds of reformers are occupied. They are :
I. The commercial theatre, run by the actor-
manager, a syndicate, or a successful fin-
ancier who owns and controls innumerable
theatres. For example, the Charles Froh-
man and the Schubert Trusts, who between
them control nearly the whole of the theatres
in the United States.
The commercial-artistic theatre, managed by
an intelligent director working in harmony
with a number of co-operators, who, though
recognising the impossibility, under our
present social conditions, of running a
theatre on purely artistic lines, yet is able

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278 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

to lift the theatre out o£ the rut of purely

commercial enterprise.
3. The art theatre, which has yet to be born.

Its aim will be Creative-Illusion, not Realism

or Actuality.
The artistic reformer would destroy the first, but
would support the second till the third arrives.
The second is an intermediary which does cater for
a critical {though not hypercritical) minority among
playgoers, players, and decorators. Perhaps the
author may complain that it does not cater for
him. Still, it certainly indulges the artistic taste
and satisfies the mind that seeks for style in cohesion
and uniformity. This, then, is the value of the
Theatre of Max Reinhardt. It offers us something
infinitely better than the theatrical establishment
run by the financier out for shekels, by the actor-
manager in search of gold and silver and vanity,
by the literary and moral person and the social
reformer out for words and discussion. In short,
it is a solution to the artistic problem of the theatre,
which we ought to accept till we are offered a
higher one. If we do accept it, it will lead the
school-teacher mind to abandon the hope of making
the theatre an "improving" academy, while induc-
ing the artistic mind to endeavour to make it a
temple of illumination.

The answer to the second question is that signs
are not wanting that the influence of Reinhardt
is beginning to be strongly felt in this country.
Alert minds are conscious that the German pro-
ducer is offering us a more potential theatre than
our own sadly and rightly neglected dialectical one.

HIS INFLUENCE UPON ENGLAND 279

Thus Mr Granville Barker is beginning to work
towards a more artistic playhouse, and the Liverpool
and Birmingham Repertory Theatres are pulling in
the direction of the Deutsches Theater, with the
avowed object of surpassing that energetic institution
if possible. Mr Barker first definitely extended his
welcome to Reinhardt's ideas in a production of Pro-
fessor Gilbert Murray's translation of Iphigenia in
Tauris by Euripides. It was a Greek production
entirely on Reinhardtian lines, bearing, in fact, the
closest resemblance to the Covent Garden Theatre
production of Oedipus Rex. The search for intimacy
was carried on in the same manner. There was a
stage that had passed out of the picture-frame and in-
vaded the audience. There was the scene composed
of a temple front leading to an inner shrine, the plat-
form built out over the first three or four rows of
stalls, and the altar placed centre. There was the
emotional and moody colour, the same attempt at
lighting and colour effects, the same movements of
the chorus, the same mingling of the players with
the audience. And there was the principal part played
by the same actress, Miss Lillah M'Carthy. In fact,
it seemed as though Mr Barker had come to the
conclusion that Max Reinhardt's method of pro-
ducing Greek plays is the right one, and there is
an immense gain in reality by taking away the
proscenium and allowing the players to step out of
the frame and become part of the audience.

The production of Iphigenia was only one instance
out of several of the influence of Reinhardt on the
English stage. Others are given in my volume on
The New Spirit in Drama and Art.

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280 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

In short, the ideas of Max Reinhardt have had
a marked influence upon the methods of play re-
presentation and interpretation in this country ;
and this influence would have been far greater if
only the work of the German producer had been
seen at its best. That is to say, if instead of con-
senting to try and fit to one sort of environment
the London theatres, productions which have
grown naturally out of another, the Deutsches
Theater (a proceeding which necessitated and en-
sured the complete failure of more than one of
these productions), he had demanded a suitable
environment for them, he would not have offered
such a broad front to adverse criticism. But he
seems entirely to have neglected the fact that not
only were the physical conditions of the London
theatres unadaptable to the fullest requirements of
four of his plays at least, but that these limitations
were bound to be reinforced by the censorship of
English taste, by the stupid economies practised
in the English commercial theatre, and by the
prevalent inartistic slovenliness of English methods
of representation. Acting thus, it is needless to
say that he took risks, and he did himself a great
injustice. He invited criticism, and certain critics
are not wholly to blame if, when faced with in-
different spectacle, they charged Reinhardt with
an alleged and harmful indifference to the drama.
That he has not been indifferent to the drama
the Table of productions will show. All he has
been guilty of is demonstrating what this book sets
cut to prove, namely, that the real Max Reinhardt
is to be seen at Berlin.

SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER

This supplementary chapter contains certain
matter bearing on the subject of this book, which
has come to hand since the book was written.

^H Shakespeare and Simplified Staging

The present-day controversy on the manner of
staging Shakespeare, to which a new impulse has
been added by Max Reinhardt's visit to this
country, has called forth two books of equal
merit from the producer's point of view. In the

• first. Thoughts and Afterthoughts, Sir Herbert Tree
says much " in extenuation of those methods which
have been assailed with almost equal brilliancy and
vehemence." The author examines The Splendid
V. The Adequate, or The Fat v. The Thin
method of production, and argues in favour of the
former. Thus he meets the argument of the
Adcquates that the splendid manner of producing
Shakespeare tends to banish him altogether from
the stage, seeing that the huge cost of production

k forbids frequent productions, with the argument
that one production in the splendid manner is
worth a dozen in the adequate manner. He
argues, moreover, that Shakespeare wrote for the
281

ih,Coo<;

282 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT J

public ; that the public demands the splendid I
manner, as the box-office receipts can show; and I
therefore the public demands what Shakespeare!
would give it if he were alive to-day. And he I
examines the conditions of his Shakespearean plays, I
which have governed his choice of interpretation. I
In the second book, Shakespeare in the Theatre^ \
Mr William Poel defends the non-scenic method
of producing Shakespeare, and deals with the
questions which he set himself to answer thirty
years ago. The questions may be stated thus :

1. What is the Shakespearean theatre really I
like ?

2. What are the dramatic conditions in which |
Shakespeare worked ?

3. What are Shakespeare's intentions in :

{a) The construction of his plays ;

(^) The method of their representation ;

if) The method of their interpretation ?

A conclusion to which the book leads the reader I
is that the current movement towards Shakespearean j
simplicity has sprung from Mr Poel's long and un-
swerving faith in his ideal of a Neo-Shakespearean ]
stage, his attempt to give Shakespeare in the I
purely suggestive surroundings of curtains having J
begun in i88r, or eight years before the reaction J
against the elaboration of scenic details of the]
Meiningers set in at Munich.

With regard to the Munich Shakespeare Stage,
the following facts sent by Director Kilian are of I
interest : —

1. The Munich Shakespeare Stage of Lautcn-
schlager and Savits was the first German Stage toj

SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER 283

^H play Shakespeare in the simplified manner. It did

^B so in 1889.

^H 2. The new Munich Shakespeare Stage of

^F 1909 differs from the other in that the first
proscenium is done away with, that proscenium
scenes are not played in front of decorations, but
generally in front of the curtain, and that modern
scenic principles are applied to decorative scenes
played at the back part of the stage, such as those
of the round horizon, plastic architecture, etc.

3. The Munich Shakespeare Stage has so far
found but few imitators in Germany.

Full particulars of the Munich Stage may be
found in Amundsen's The New Munich Shakespeare

^K Stage, published at Munich in 191 1.

The National Theatre Movement

This movement, which is inspired to some
extent by the example of Germany, has found an
opponent in Mr Henry Arthur Jones. For some
years Mr Jones has been in favour of the establish-
ment of a national theatre in this country, but
after investigating the failure of the Millionaires'
Theatre, New York, he has formed the opinion
that the time is not ripe for an experiment on the
lines proposed by the large and influential English
committee. His objections form the new matter
in a book of collected essays and lectures entitled
The Foundations of a National Drama. Mr Poel
also has something to say against the proposals of
the National Theatre Committee in his afore-
mentioned Shakespeare in the Theatre,

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28+ THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Symbolism in the Theatre
The interchange of Eastern and Western ideas of
the theatre and the drama continues, and new books
explaining Western methods of representation and
interpretation are constantly appearing. In Piayi
of Old Japan, Miss Marie C. Stopes deals with the
history, character, and staging of the " No " plays,
and makes a further contribution to the subject of
simplified staging.

The Re-interpretation of Ibsen
There are signs that a re-valuation of Ibsen is

about to be attempted in this country, and one

book at least has appeared to point the way. Mr

Henry Rose's Henrik Ibsen : Poet, Mystic, and

Moralist, provides a key to the symbolist in the
great Norwegian dramatist.

The English Repertory Theatre

The new repertory habit to which London, after
Germany, became addicted, and which for a variety
of reasons London did not long retain, has shown
a slight increase in the English provinces. The
Birmingham Repertory Theatre was opened in
February 191 3, with a production of Shakespeare's
Tivelfth Night after the Reinhardt manner. The
theatre was built for Mr Barry Jackson, to whose
enthusiasm and munificence England owes the
first theatre constructed for the new artistic re-
pertory purposes. In this connection it carries on
some of the reforms coming from abroad. For
instance, its seating comes from the Bayrcuth

SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER 285

Theatre, where the rows of seats rise gently one
above the other ; and its lighting from the
Deutsches Theater, BerHn. The latter was in-
troduced by Mr Basil Dean, who also applied Rein-
hardt's system of lighting to the Liverpool Repertory
Theatre. It should be mentioned that Mr Dean
has recently resigned his directorship of the Liver-
pool Theatre. Sheffield followed Birmingham
with a repertory theatre, and other centres are to
have experimental repertory seasons. Meanwhile
the repertory theatre habit which deserted London
for the provinces, promises to return to London
by the suburbs. Croydon, for instance, has reached
the new repertory stage under the direction of
Messrs Keble Howard and Dick Adams.

Otto Brahm

Otto Brahm died in November 19 12. He was
born in Hamburg in 1856, and became a pupil of
Wilhelm Scherer, the philologist and historian of
literature, soon after the latter's arrival at Berlin
in 1877. Later, as critic, he contributed to several
journals, and in 1889 became closely associated with
the Freien Biihne movement. For the rest, he
devoted himself to the psychological drama, the
ensemble, and to the claims of newcomers to
whom he believed the future belonged. His death
called forth an extraordinary manifestation of feel-
ing from intellectual Germans, including an eloquent
tribute from Gerhart Hauptmann. According to
the Times report of his speech, Herr Hauptmann
said : " I do not believe that in the whole history
of the German Theatre there was ever before him

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286 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

such a union of practical force and ideal force.
He compelled the theatre to serve serious, true, and
living Art. He brought it near to life, and life
near to it, as had never been done before. .
There may be people who regard a fight for the
prestige of the German Theatre to be not im-
portant enough to justify belief in its seriousness.
It is Brahm's service that he recognised its im-
portance and gave himself to the work. He
burdened himself for it with labours, cares, and
duties of all sorts, undertook campaigns and ex-
perienced victories and defeats, successes and dis-
appointments, unknown to the life of the peaceful
citizen. The sense of responsibility of an important
statesman entrusted with the fortunes of his Father-
land cannot be greater. It requires no greater sum
of labour, endurance, insight, and courage, . .
How shall we do honour to this man ? By main-
taining and continuing his vital work, the import-
ance of which is ever more and more profoundly
realised. In a certain field he achieved the unity
of Art and People. In him the Theatre became
the breathing organ of the People's life. To an
art in itself apart and remote from the people's
world he gave the simple force of a natural
function."

The Spread of Reinhardt's Influence

Reinhardt's increasing influence may be noted
in two directions. In the present revival of the
religious form of drama may be traced the influence
of the production of The Miracle. Mrs Dearmer's
The Dreamer y and Mr Louis Parker's Joseph and Hit

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SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER

287

Brethren arc types of a " new " religious play. The
production of the first revealed an application of
the Reinhardt principles of staging. By the cine-
matograph adaptation of The Miracle and other
Reinhardt productions, it is conceivable that Rein-
hardt's principles of ensemble acting are becoming
widely known to player and public alike.

n,g,t,7.dt,'G00glc

APPENDICES

I. A NOTE ON THE LIMITATION OF THE
CULTURE MOVEMENT IN THE THEATRE

There has been and are several objections raised to
the attempted representation of classics on the modern
stage. One is the objection of the artist to the archaeo-
logist. As sources of archeology, Greek, Roman,
Chinese, Japanese, Elizabethan, early French, German,
and Italian plays have a profound interest, and as studies
in literature and dramatic design they have both a literary
and dramatic interest for historians and students. But
for the playgoer the attempt of the modern producer to
turn the stage into an up-to-date British museum is a
challenge to undergo unlimited instruction or complete
transformation. Though he is invited to the theatre to
see a play, he is really offered an illustrated lecture on
folklore, anthropology, civics, and Heaven knows what
else. To take the Greek drama, for example, it is
obvious that without prolonged and (perhaps expert)
study, or without the possession of peculiar mental
characteristics, no modern mind can be expected to realise
the mystic whim which governed ancient Greece. It
would be the same with plays based upon primitive
African or Australian customs. The whole thing would
be foreign to us. Even if we remove the mystic element
from the Greek drama, the objection remains. There
is the essential difference of the conception of life, of
character, and especially of the purpose of the drama—

-^^^^^^

APPENDICES

189

a purpose not capricious, but emerging from the spirit
of the time — to be fully understood, [t must not be
overlooked that the great tragic dramas sprang from the
need of the moment. The CEdipus had its origin
in one set of circumstances. King Lear had another
origin. Each had its own dramatic basis. The structure,
emotion, representation, and interpretation of these dramas
vary according to race, temperament and epoch. If, then,
the Greek drama was produced by a peculiar set of cir-
cumstances, it follows that it cannot stir anyone who is
not intimate with these circumstances, that is, produced
by the same set of circumstances, or who possesses the
same spirit that produced it. If it is true that the drama
which came from ancient Greece, or China, or Shake-
speare's England can be made to draw large audiences
tonday, it is because producers like Max Reinhardt succeed
in putting more of the human power of to-day into it,
and leaving out the peculiar human power of the age
to which it belongs. Each drama is, in fact, an up-to-date,
not an original product ; an impurity, not a purity.

An excuse has been put forward for these representa-
tions, in the excuse that the dramas were written in great
language and in an incomparable style. But so too were
the great Indian epics. These, however, have not been
represented on our modern stage. No intelligent person
desires that they may be. And as for the language of
Greek tragedies, of which but fragments remain, we have
only translations to listen to.

Possibly the greatest advantage may be derived from
the Greek dramas, not by seeing them acted, but by studying
their form and content. This is an occupation for a certain
class of modern authors and critics, but not for the general
public, to whom technique should ever be a mystery. In
their construction, the Greek dramas arc exceptional
examples of the co-ordinating power of the Greek
dramatists. They have an extraordinary unity, every
detail being subordinated to a single end. They were
designed, and successfully, to leave a single efiect on the

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190 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

mind of the Greek spectator, in whose ears one moral
was left ringing. Like La Fontaine's fables, they were
directed to point and to drive home a single idea. It
might be the idea of sacrifice, or of patriotism, or of
revenge, or of justice, or of peace ; but in any case it
was a simple and a single idea.

The modern uncreative dramatist may then turn
profitably to the Greek construction in its broadly simple
and rhythmic side. But the creative author will leave
Greece and its drama severely alone. He will shun the
tyranny of the Greek influence as he would a plague,
remembering that the advanced men of to-day do not
build Greek temples, but temples of their own, having
a form springing from the inner necessity of creation,
not from the outer necessity of imitation. The creative
dramatist has no need to revive Greek ideas, but he has
every need to work his present material in a new and
inspiring way. What the Greeks did and how they did
it is no longer the business of such an author. And
this is a fact for producers to understand. Classics are
not the stuff upon which to breed vital authors. On
the contrary, they are the food for re-incarnated souls.
Strictly speaking, only re-incarnated souls should produce,
interpret, and witness them. Managers ought accordingly
to provide themselves with Shelleys for Greek plays, and
Landors for Roman plays, while for German ones Carlyles
would be needed, but not Carlyles with livers.

It should be mentioned that the movement in the
theatre to*day is more Greek than Renaissance, owing to
its feeling for unity. But the unity sought is not the
same. For whereas the Greeks sought unity of unity
and obtained it, the moderns are seeking unity of variety.
For one thing, they are trying to get a unity of settings,
every setting being subordinated to a dominant mood.
All the settings are brought and bound together by
mechanical processes, such as lighting, which were
unknown both to the Greeks and Shakespeare and the
Renaissants. 1

APPENDICES

291

Possibly the search for unity is the great thing in the
theatre just now. In any case, the present conceptions
of unity and methods of attaining it are many and
varied. The following table will show the variety of
unity sought after : —

Conceptions of Unity.
Muc Reinhardt .
William Pocl

Gordon Craig
Raymond Duncan
Granville Barker .
Russian Ballet
Moscow Art Theatre
Munich Art Theatre

Emotional.
Archaeological.

Esthetic.
Greek beauty.
Intellectual.
Physical.
Cultural-Esthetic.

Methods of Attaining It.

Big spaces. Elemental passions,

Scholastic-a

Atmosphen

Movement,

,*;sthctic-a

Colour (mu

Stylisarion.

ctuality.

jality.

:, dance, decoration).

Rcinhardt .

Poel

Craig

Duncan

Barker

Russian Ballet

Moscow

Munich

The present failure to attain unity is due to the attempt
to force it on plays that were not prepared for it.

II. RECENT DEVELOPMENTS IN ENGLAND

Thbre are two recent events in London which deserve
to be mentioned as having a direct bearing on the matter
of this book. One is Mr Granville Barker's production
of A Winter'i Tale at the Savoy Theatre ; the other the
exhibition at the Leicester Galleries of Mr Gordon Craig's
"screen." The interest of Mr Barker's presentation of
Shakespeare's play lies in the fact that it brings the
modern stage a step nearer to the actual structure of the
Elizabethan theatre than either Jocza Savits of Munich

iM,Coo<;lc

292 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

or William Poe! has done, and thus introduces the latest
tendencies of simplified staging in London and carries on
the tradition that Max Reinhardt has set up in Berlin.
This means that Mr Barker has at last come definitely into
line with those who are opposed to the showman-shop-
keeper representation of Shakespeare, and who, while re-
fusing to support the non-scenic extreme seen in the plain
curtain background of Mr Poel and Herr Savits, vigorously
attack the extravagances and excesses of modern scenery and
stage decoration. His view, as gathered from his produc-
tion, appears to be that Shakespeare must come first, and
whatever scenery or " decoration," as he terms it, is essen-
tial to the right understanding of Shakespeare must come
after. This is reversing the conventional view that scenery
must come first. In a letter on his intentions to the
Dai/y MaU^ Mr Barker told us he was led to detestadon
of excessive scenery largely by the influence of Mr Craig.
The latter's " production twelve years ago of Mr Laurence
Housman's Bethlehem destroyed for him once and for all
any illusions he may have had as to the necessity of sur-
rounding every performance of a play with the stufl[y,
fussy, thick-bedaubed canvas which we are accustomed to
call stage scenery, while he opened my eyes to the possi-
bilities of real beauty and dignity in stage decoration."
Further, he informed us that his path to the possibilities
of Elizabethan blank verse was pioneered by "Mr William
Poel — that other destructive idealist — who taught me how
swift and passionate a thing, how beautiful in its variety,
Elizabethan blank verse might be when tongues were
trained to speak and ears acute to hear it." Acting
under these influences, Mr Barker hastened to give
us a Shakespeare without cuts, without localities, and
without act-divisions, without scenery, except in the
nature of "decoration," played swiftly and spoken with
the skill of modern players accustomed to modern
dialogue, and lacking the essential sense of rhythm
which Shakespeare's lyricism demands.

In preparing his version of A fViitter's Tale for the

APPENDICES

S93

stage, Mr Barker quite overlooked the lyrical element, of
which it is full, and which alone gives the play coherence
and uniformity. Apart from its lyricism, for which it
was seemingly written, A IVinters Tale has but little
to recommend it. Though "it belongs to the final period
of Shakespeare's work," it is nevertheless one of Shake-
speare's poorest plays. The plot is a mixed affair, being
composed of several odd stories bearing little or no rela-
tion to each other. Apparently the plot was too short,
seeing that Shakespeare has had to resort to padding.
The padding is, however, the best part of the play. For
in the Shepherd's affairs, the dances, the giving of flowers
and favours, and the amusing doings of that Commedia
deir Arte figure, Autolycus, Shakespeare demonstrates
how he could turn himself loose as lyrically and rhythmi-
cally as he pleased. At the time he wrote this play he
was well under Marlowe's influence. He had learnt the
latter's tricks of rhythmic prose, and knew how to avoid
the "tinkling end rhyme" which Marlowe scorned.
Besides being short of plots, Shakespeare was also short
of characters, for those in A Winter 5 Tale are characters
from other plays retouched up for the purpose. They
are stock figures, shadows of their former selves. Even
Perdita compares unfavourably with other types. To
produce A M^inter's Tale as a plot drama would there-
fore be disastrous, as former experiments in this direction
have proved. Only the representation and interpretation
of its lyricism could ensure success, since it is this " musi-
cal element" that makes a universal appeal,

Mr Barker goes for dramatic contrast. He reads A
Winter's Tale as "a tragi-comedy," and treats it accord-
ingly as a two-mood play. He places tragedy in Sicily
and comedy in Bohemia, with Time between ; founds the
first part on jealousy, and gives it the atmosphere of an
Othello tragedy ; the second part on rusticity, and colours
it with rural life.

Having made this contribution to the controversy of
the structure of the play-action, he next proceeds to make

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294 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

a contribution to the formation of the stage for the pur-
pose of continuous performance. He takes the present
obsolete picture stage and divides it into three — a front,
middle, and back stage. The front or platform stage is
formed by covering in the orchestra with an apron sKge ;
the middle stage is got by dividing off the front of the
main stage by means of two gold proscenium frames having
the appearance of one box fitting within another. Behind
the second frame is the back or main stage. These alter-
nate stages preserve the structure of the action of the
play, just as they did in the Elizabethan playhouse. The
entrance to the apron stage is made through the stage
boxes. The entrance to the middle stage is made some-
times through the stage boxes and sometimes through
the prompt and opposite prompt openings ; while the
approach to the main stage is made from all entrances.
When this stage is being used Mr Barker allows his players
to walk through the frames into the picture, thus moving
them away from the audience instead of towards it. Mr
Craig expresses a similar idea of approaching the scene
from the audience in some of his sketches for the theatre
of the future, where he represents the player passing into
a scene apparently isolated from the audience. May be
it is a new way of solving the problem of intimacy, and
one peculiarly adapted to the illusion stage. If so, it is
of no use to the realistic stage, where the proper method
of solving the intimacy problem is either by the use of
the " flower path " through the auditorium or by extend-
ing the apron or platform stage into the auditorium as far
as it will go, thus allowing the players to mingle with the
audience. From the formation of the stage at the Savoy
Theatre it would appear as though Mr Barker is seeking
intimacy, and perhaps unity, but from the use of it his
chief aim would seem to be a variety of pictorial effects.

His aim concerning the function of the background
is clearer, although not altogether correct. He is rightly
convinced that the background or environment ought not
to out-act the actors, but he has not yet discovered that

I
I

APPENDICES 195

the environment should not be merely decoration, some-
thing pretty added to the play and designed to conceal
the naked walls of the stage. It should be a vital
necessity to the play, essential to its inner life, and
moving and acting with it so as to give it the widest
expression. In Mr Barker's hands the background be-
comes the merest suggestion of the locality of the action
of the play.

Or I may put it another way. Mr Barker, aiming at
an original treatment, finds himself in a dilemma. He is
between the empty stage and the conventional scenery.
Now he does not want the empty stage, and he does not
want the conventional scenery. Finding himself in this
position, he effects a compromise. He does not set to
work and evolve an environment that springs naturally
from the fundamental note of the play — that is, the lyrical
note — but he adopts Mr Craig's method of putting a
screen round the stage. He does so with this difference,
that whereas Mr Craig frankly calls his screen a screen,
and sees to it that it screens off everything, walls, light-
ing apparatus, and so forth, Mr Barker calls his screen a
decoration, and makes it a part of the three bare walls.
He devises, in fact, a dkollete stage. In the first place,
he clears the stage and whitewashes the walls. In the
second, he calls in the aid of Mr Norman Wilkinson, who
proceeds to fill in the space thus obtained with a three-
sided frame of white classical columns shaped like
Cleopatra needles, and held together at the fop by a
tliin round rod- The rod is hung in the spaces between
the columns, with green-gold curtains which add a warmth
and a sumptuousness to the white walls and columns, and
form a pleasant background for the colours to move
against. In the centre of the stage he places a square of
gold settees. Almost all the scenes in Sicily are played
in this environment, which represents the Palace of
Leontes. For the Bohemian half of the play Mr
Wilkinson constructs a scene by removing the columns
and substituting a low thatched cottage or shepherd's hut.

iM,Coo<;lc

296 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

having two chimneys and being surrounded by a wicker-
work fence. The cottage reaches right across the stage.
It is drab, with a green door centre. By means of this
cottage the decorator gets a local effect. But un-
fortunately the structure has no relation to the figures.
The two never come together. In fact, the characters
exist solely to advertise the cottage. Then the principle
of the newer unity in variety of stage-setting is not suc-
cessfully applied. Indeed it is noticeable that there is
very little attempt to differentiate the colour of this scene
from that of the first scene. The drab of the cottage is
merely a variation of the white, and does not mark off the
joyous seductiveness of Bohemia from the fierce jealousy
of Sicily.

Nor do the colour and line of Mr Albert Rothenstein
— whom Mr Barker next calls in to design the costumes —
help materially to maintain the contrast which the pro-
ducer has in mind. Throughout the colours are worked
on an arbitrary system of complementaries. They have
almost a black and white value. For instance, you find a
canary yellow having a relation to white, not to light or
real colour. The colours are, in fact, simply thrown on
in spots. They are very charming spots, ultra-refined,
purely iESthetic, and far removed from the very barbarous,
vital colours of the Russian Ballets. The fault of Mr
Rothenstein's colours is there is no vital reason for them.
Like the columns and curtains and cottage, they do not
spring from a vital necessity. When savages go to war
they smear themselves with red in order to terrify their
enemies. Their colour has a vital reason. When decorators
colour a scene of jealousy they should so smear it with
the colours of jealousy as to draw the audience into it.
But Mr Rothenstein smears his characters with colour
to create a sense of prettiness. In doing so he gives
expression to the prevailing esthetic delusion. Nor have
the designs for the costumes any distinction ; they arc
merely copied from the Renaissance pattern-book of
Giulio Romano.

APPENDICES 297

Mr Barker gives further practical shape to the principles
of Elizabethan staging by the employment of drop curtains
in the second frame. These curtains are painted with
flat Japanese landscapes to represent exteriors, and with
designs— leaf pattern, square and round, etc.— to represent
interiors.

As in the attempt to ignore tradition much depends
upon the lighting of the "scene," an elaborate and com-
plicated system of lighting is devised. Mr Barker places
in the centre of the first circle two box lights, violet in
colour, this being the most powerful light ; round the front
of the dress circle six cylinder lights, a light in each stage
box, and four white arc lamps above and running across the
centre of the main stage. By this arrangement footlights
are done away with, and the effects of the differentiation
as well as the mixing of colour obtained. Thus the violet
and the yellow rays meeting on the stage produce warm
shadows, while other effects are got by mixing the violet
with yellow and white rays. The whole effect of the
lighting is certainly a great improvement on that obtained
by conventional methods, and suggests great possibilities
in the future, when lighting is inteUigently applied to the
stage. But it is too much to hope that artificial lighting
will ever produce the same effects as natural lighting, say,
of the open-air Elizabethan theatre. It is noticeable that
the best appreciations of Mr Barker's production came
from the German press, one Berlin critic going so far as
to remark that " the passion for new forms and for
perfecting the scenic form of art has undergone a mighty
awakening in England in recent years." The fact does
not, however, appear to have been noticed by the London
critics seeing that they offered a fairly violent and char-
acteristic opposition to Mr Barker's application of the
modern principle of the simplification of the stage for
the production of Shakespeare's plays.

The representation of Twelfth Night followed closely
on the lines of that of A (Vtnler's Tale. The piece was
done in curtains and a built scene (Olivia's Garden).

1 ni,;iiPrjM,GoosIe

298 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

The stage was unaltered. The first two sections were
narrower than the third. The first section or platform
was formed by taking in the orchestral well and covering
it with an apron stage. It had entrances or openings in
the stage boxes. The second, or middle stage, was got
by dividing off the main stage by two gold proscenium
frames having the appearance of one box fitting in another.
This stage had openings at the side. The third section
was the large back or rear portion of the main stage.
The back stage had entrances up right and left. The
walls of the back stage were whitewashed as in A
iVinter'i Tale to form a background for simple touches
of colour, such as the golden throne and its pink canopy
and columns, golden seats, and dark green yew trees.
Messrs Shakespeare and Granville Barker were joint
producers, and accordingly the play was acted without
any cuts or waits whatever. Perhaps the most dis-
concerting thing about the production was that the
characters and details of costume were reproduced with
an unnecessary fidelity to the actualities. This was
doubtless Mr Barker's fault, for although there is evi-
dence that Shakespeare, in the old days, occasionally
sought realisms, it is probably true that he depended
largely on the imagination of the spectator. Shakespeare
also demanded variety, and, had he been actually present
at the Savoy Theatre, would have approved the variety
got by Mr Barker by means of decorated curtains.
At the same time, he would have demanded the new
unity in variety, if, as some producers maintain, he
had a forward-looking mind. Living to-day, he would
be conscious that the movement in the theatre is
more Greek than Renaissance because of its feeling
for unity. Wherever there is this feeling, there may
be traced a Greek influence. Take Shakespeare's plays,
for instance, and we shall find that the plays which are
most Greek are most unified, while those which are mere
Renaissance lack unity and predominate in variety. A
Winttr'i Tale may be quoted as an unsuccessful attempt^

■

-•^g-i

..Gc

APPENDICES

299

to get unity. Now there is a tendency among some neo-
Shakespearean reformers to add Greek unity to the
Renaissance variety of setting, by taking a lot of scenes,
such as a Shakespearean play contains, and binding them
together with curtains. Such curtains arc designed to
express and sustain the predominant motive of the play.
For instance, if the play is Romeo and Juliet, then the
passionate love-motive would be seen running through
all the lines and colours of the curtains, in conflict with
the opposition motives (whatever they may be). Just as
the Russian decorators have introduced the motive into the
act-drop, curtains and background of the Russian Ballets,
so a Shakespearean decorator here and there is seeking to
introduce it to the Shakespearean curtain and screen
scenes. But Mr Barker does not go as far as this. He
makes an arbitrary use of curtains. Under his direction
they are designed merely to harmonise with the costumes
of the players, or perhaps to express a mental movement ;
they are not bound together by a leading motive, as they
should be in order to avoid the distraction set up by
unrelated intervals in stage settings. Thus the first
curtain, with its landscape and houses painted in the flat
on a yellow ground, has no relation to the second curtain,
with its composition in pinks, greens, yellows, and
blues. Nor has the zig-zag curtain any relation to those
that preceded and followed it. What is needed is a
rhythmical unity of action, speech decoration, and lighting.
The dialogue of the leading character aflTords a key to the
rhythm of the scene. If it is a zig-zag rhythm, that is,
full of a combative spirit, then everything in the scene
should express it ; it a flowing rhythm, that is, of a
peaceful character, then the scene should have this
character. The deliberate amplifications of curtain sur-
faces designed to indicate the passage of a great emotion
or passion, throughout a play, is the principle on which
the Shakespearean decorator should work.

This advance should undoubtedly be made in the
treatment of Shakespeare on the English stage, and vt. ^

300 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

not unreasonable to suppose that it will be made as soon
as decorators are acquainted with its importance and arc
encouraged to co-operate in the work of the theatre.
That more than one decorator is accessible to the new
ideas is incontestible. After some talks with Mr Alfred
Wolmark, an English painter of great ability, I had the
satisfaction of seeing him set to work to design a set of
Shakespearean curtains having the requisite element of
unity in variety. These curtains were sent to an exhibition
of theatrical devices, held at Warsaw, where they awakened
considerable interest ; they stirred up the general opinion
among people who are instinctively decorators, that Mr
Wolmark is a decorator with the strength and colour
vision peculiarly suited to the work of the theatre. This
agrees with my own view that, if he once enters the theatre,
he has a big career before him.

It should be mentioned that the lighting of the
Twelfth Night was similar to that of /I fVinier's TaU^
being obtained by means of projectors, lenses, coloured
lights from tinted globes, etc.

To the attempt to solve the problem of stage lighting
is largely due the appearance of Mr Gordon Craig's
novelty — the latest portable screen. The arrival of the
screen means that Mr Craig has thrown overboard his
curtained background, and will doubdess cease to lament
the fact that the German theatres have been borrowing
it for some considerable time past. He has now got a
contrivance entirely different from any stage device that
Max Rcinhardt employs, and having thus, as it were,
come into a scenic kingdom of his own, will no longer
prefer charges against more or less harmless persons.
At the exhibition at the Leicester Galleries it was seen
that the new device, which Mr Craig maintains is wholly
new and wholly his own, consists of a grey portable
jointed screen to be used together with some cylinders,
cubes, squares, rostrums, and some white and coloured
limelights. Here Mr Craig demonstrated in seven litdc
scenes how these "bricks" are put together to form

11, Coo;

■

I
I

APPENDICES 301

backgrounds. The plain wooden screen is adaptable to
any stage. It is made to reach above the proscenium, and
thus not only serves to represent the scene, but to mask
in anything that the audience is not required to see, such,
for instance, as the lighting apparatus. Beyond this it
can be folded to form interior and exterior settings,
suggesting battlements, ramparts, pillars, walls, and so
on, according to the need or the drama. It can also be
folded so that the light may fall at the desired points
between the folds, being worked from the top, side, back,
front, as the case may be. As a clue to Mr Craig's
intentions regarding the setting of the scenes, let me give
a description or two of the arrangements at the Leicester
Galleries. Supposing a " mad " scene for Ophelia is re-

3uired. All that the stage-manager or carpenter has to
o is to run the screen round the stage in a semicircle,
place a cylindrical column in the centre of the stage with
a number of square columns colonnading round it,
sprinkle a yellow light on either side at the back of the
centre column, and the scene with its classical archi-
tectural features is ready to receive Ophelia, Another
unaccustomed setting is got by arranging the screen to
form an inverted V, with two long passages running off
at left angles, middle and up stage, and by placing a huge
square column in the centre of the V. This scene was
lighted by a violet light (representing daylight) placed off
and flooding the middle passage, and by a yellow light
off, and flooding the top passage. The yellow light was
so arranged as to be thrown right across and reflected on
the wall right, thus filling two-thirds of the upper space.
Further, the yellow ray of light coming from the upper
passage and received on the wall right met the violet ray
coming from the middle passage, in the space in front
of the centre column, thus tending to give the column
height and to create a seductive effect. Mr CraJg plays
with his lights from these two points in the endeavour to
obtain the effects he is after. If a tragic mood is sought,
doubtless he would flood the scene from these points

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302 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

with reds ; if a nun coming from a cloister, he would keep
the scene white. So by a change of light he secures a
change of mood or change of time — day or night, summer
or winter, as the case may be. But of course the
architectural " environment " always remains the same. It
was remarked by the Times critic when dealing with the
lighting of these scenes that '* a change of light makes a
change of scene." How can a change of light alter a
series of sets which in build and fitment are all alike ?
Though the V-shaped scene is very ingenious, yet it is not
without serious faults, both from the point of view of
the actor and the spectator. How the actor is to make
any intelligent use of the scene with its high column
blocking up the centre of the stage is a question which
even Mr Craig might find a difficulty in answering.
Another obvious question is, How are the spectators to
view such a scene as this as a whole, rather than in
sections ? How can a person on the right-hand side of
the theatre see what is happening in the opening and
space behind the left of the column .' The spectators are
obliged to view the scene from different angles. Thus a
spectator seated right would have the upper opening left
and a part of the space up stage cut off. The spectator
seated centre would have the whole of the space up stage
cut off, while the spectator right could see neither the
lower left passage nor an angle of the space up stage. In
short, it is apparent to anyone who views this scene from
all parts of the house, right, centre, left, stalls, pit, boxes,
drdes, and gallery, that the problem of sight line is
largely increased instead of being diminished, and thereby
a great deal of unnecessary friction ts set up in the mind
of the audience.

Returning to the building of the scenes, another un-
conventional effect is obtained by stretching the screen
right across the stage near the foodights, leaving it partly
folded into copper-colour zig-zags in the centre, with
a plain part at each end in warm grey. The screen is
lighted by a single ray of light, a double effect being

APPENDICES 303

obtained by throwing the light on one side of the zig-zag
sections. Thus the copper on one side becomes old gold,
while the copper on the other side turns to violet. In
another instance the screen is utilised to form a battlement.
It is drawn across the stage to represent the exterior of
a castle wall. The centre opening of the wall is occupied
by a tall flight of steps reaching up to a deep blue
sky. At the bottom of the steps to the right is a
complementary rose-colour light. In the colouring of
all these scenes it is noticeable that Mr Craig works in
complementaries. Another simple arrangement is made
by throwing the screen right across the stage and
folding it so as to suggest the unbroken exterior of a
castle wall.

The value of Mr Craig's device, as a contribution to
the solution of the scene problem, is doubtful. It certainly
does not solve the new problem of unity in variety,
seeing that the screen is one thing and the figures that
move against it are another. Mr Craig's dominant idea,
it seems, is movement, and the screen is intended as a
medium for emphasising this movement. But the " scene "
obtained by its aid is not really a " scene." It is simply
"an environment of light and shadow." The inference
from this is that the lighting is the "scene," and the only
unity attained is that of atmosphere. The screen is
simply an instrument for receiving the light. It has no
relation to the characters of the play and does not spring
from the inward necessity of these characters. It is an
annexe to a fully expressed movement and might be
dispensed with altogether if the bare walls of the theatre
could be prepared to receive the necessary lighting. As
3 device in stage mechanics it is ingenious, but considered
in relation to the characters of a play it is not dramatic
but Eesthetic.

Moreover, it has no distinct economic value, seeing
that before a touring company could travel the provinces
with it, it would be necessary for every provincial theatre
visited to have a special lighting plant, and an intelligent

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304 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

and expensive staiF of limelight men and stage-hands.
The most that can be said for it is that it is a break
with the inventor's earlier tradition. Herein Mr Craig
claims to make an advance upon himself, though the
advance is not apparent. Looking at the screen settings,
the designs for Hamki and other scenes, and those for
costumes and masks, the intelligent observer inquires.
What does one get towards a theatre of the future ? The
answer is nothing vital. In all these things there is only
a bloodless cloistered a:stheticism. They reveal that Mr
Craig is obsessed by the idea that the purpose of drama
is the representation of the beauty of beauty, not the
beauty of truth ; of ancient beauty by means of xsthetic
movement, not present beauty by means of the unfolding
of personality. They show that he has arrived at the
surface, where he is trying to gild a classical cause. His
screen and designs do not open a door upon the future,
but upon the past. The whole thing is Greek to the
core, and bad Greek, In fact, the smell of Greece is
so strong as to obscure whatever little modern light Mr
Craig has undoubtedly obtained in other directions. He
has both gone beyond the Greeks and failed to realise
the best that was in the Greeks. In short, Mr Craig has
arrived at a point where he creates a desire in the spectator
to look on, but never a desire to participate. The latter
is the precious secret which vital minds alone possess.

Still, if Mr Craig's present line of research is not likely
to assist the theatre in one way, it may do so in another.
It seems to foreshadow the coming of the much needed
art-drama critic.

111. GERMAN INFLUENCES ON ENGLISH
DEVELOPMENT

As may be gathered from the chapter on the "Influences
on Max Reinhardt's Development," the modern Repertory
Theatre movement in England was largely initiated by

APPENDICES

305

Germany. But Germany, although the pioneer of the
modern movement, was not the first in the repertory
field. Historically, the movement began with the Com-
media dell" Arte, The name was given to a group of
creative players who broke away from the dead formalism
of the Italian theatre of the sixteenth century, and
succeeded in giving the drama a new expression through
freedom, creativeness, and spontaneity. These actors
were so intelligent that, given a creative scenario, they
could fill in its general design while communicating
themselves individually to the spectator. They created
their own form of expression instead of having it created
for them, as is now the custom. Here was a group which
appealed to the individual and collective intelligence, and
which gave birth to the greatest repertory movement. In
the course of time these vagrant revolutionists invaded
all Europe, firing many a creative group as they went.
They visited Elizabethan England, where English authors
(Shakespeare among them) and players came under their
direct influence. About the beginning of the seventeenth
century many English comedians found their way to the
German Royal Courts, and were retained by the German
princes. Thus was founded the Endowed Repertory
Theatre of Germany. In time this endowed system began
to spread, and by the end of the eighteenth century it
was firmly established in Germany. Thereafter it swept
forward and was moulded in turn by Schiller, Goethe,
the Saxe-Meiningen Court Company, the Freien BQhne,
Brahm, Ibsen, Reinhardt, and the Court, State, Municipal,
People's, and Private Endowed Theatre, and coloured by
Wagnerian, Russian, Scandinavian and English artistic
influences. So it swept on, adopting many and varied
reforms — naturalistic, realistic, symbolic — of stage-crowds,
of acting, of ensemble, of speech, of intimacy, and so
forth. With the establishment of the Freien Buhne the
movement crossed to England.

It came in response to a demand for the reform of the
English Theatre. Some persons had seen it worked to

byGoogle 1

306 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

advantage in Germany, while others were growing tired of
the two principal abuses by which the English theatre was
tyrannised. One abuse was the star-system or system
of self-aggrandisement which, starting with the actor-
manager, had passed through Kean, Phelps, Irving, and
had reached its culmination in the group of private
managers who controlled and still control their own
theatres. The other abuse was the commercial system
initiated by speculators, syndicates, and capitalists,
American and other, headed by Charles Frohman.
Springing up and running parallel with these were the
beginnings of an economic and intellectual movement in
the theatre, intended to act as a disinfectant to the said
abuses. Such were found in the People's Stage Societies
founded by Watts, Morris, and other artistic and social
reformers, and in the establishment of small private
societies. It was not, however, till the early 'nineties that
the first definite step towards an organised movement in
this country, aiming to bring cultural reform into the
theatre, was taken. In 1891 Mr J. T. Grein started the
Independent Theatre, and laid the foundation of the
present literary and moral theatre in England. The
sub-tide of this theatre might appropriately have been
the Entente Cordiale Theatre, seeing that it aimed not
only to provide an open door for English plays of an
independent character, but to bring foreign plays of the
same character before the free and independent playgoer.
After struggling along for six years, supported by a
thin membership, never reaching two hundred, and by a
slender income never exceeding £400, it finally succumbed,
having contributed to the English stage the first batch of
international literary authors, and very little by way of
acting or scenic reform. The Independent Theatre was
followed in 1897 by the Stage Society (later rechristened
the Incorporated Stage Society), which was founded on
similar lines to that or the Independent Theatre, namely,
for the purpose of providing a theatre to which authors
of any country might go when they had anything to say

APPENDICES 307

r which they could not say in the conventional theatre. In
this respect it strongly resembled the new so-called advanced
journals which are springing up to-day, and which serve as
a dust-hole for literary and moral outpouring — some of it
very good and some of it very bad. The Stage Society
dust-hole has suffered from a glut of mixed goods. The
Society was, I believe, initiated by Mr Frederick Whelen,

I a gentleman possessing the requisite business capacity and

dramatic enthusiasm for launching a scheme of the sort.
Assisted by others equally enthusiastic, especially by
members of the dramatic profession, he organised it into
being, and it burst forth in all its youthful promise at the
Royalty Theatre, opening with Mr Bernard Shaw's You
Never Can Tell. It is not clear whether the play was
chosen because its title seems to suggest the doubtful
career of the Society. With the incorporation of the
Society in 1 904, its objects were defined as follows : " To
promote and encourage dramatic art ; to serve as an
experimental theatre ; to provide such an organisation as
shall be capable of dealing with any opportunities that
may present themselves or be created for the permanent
establishment in London of a Repertory Theatre." The
activities of this Stage Society have continued to the
present day, but the London Repertory Theatre is as far
oiF as ever. (It is true that all the London theatres
combined served to form a Repertory Theatre, of a
sort.) These activities have been mainly devoted to
the exploitation of original home and foreign produce.
They have not included any attempt to organise the
theatre. From the beginning the Society has been
homeless, and without an organised body of players. It
has, in fact, given scratch performances of classical and
contemporary (some of them banned) plays interpreted
by all sorts and conditions of players, having nothing in
common but a desire to make the most of their separate
parts. In short, its main characteristic has been variety
without unity.

For the first attempt to organise the theatre on a

308 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

clearly defined ground we must turn to the Court
Theatre while under the joint management of Messrs
Vedrenne and Barker from 1 904 to 1 907. In the
activities of this theatre we see the first attempt in
Lfindon to establish a repertory theatre on a combined
intellectual and commercial basis, just as the Deutsches
Theater is a successful attempt to run a theatre on
commercial and artistic lines. Beyond the attempt to
demonstrate the practicability of breaking away from the
artistically disastrous long-run system and substituting a
short-run system designed to please playgoer, players, and
box-office ahke, there was the attempt to establish an
experimental theatre wherein experiments could be made
in reforms that had long been making their way to this
country from Germany and elsewhere. Among the
reforms were those of staging plays, acting and speech.
In this way the new ideas of simplified environment,
crowd effects, ensemble, and uniformity of diction were
introduced to London and began to make themselves
felt. The result of the three years' work was, from the
point of view of the promoters, highly satisfactory.
Apparently it stimulated imitation in all directions. For
a time London was threatened with an epidemic of
repertory theatres run on the Court lines, as the move-
ment spread from West-end theatre to theatre, from the
Adelphi under Mr Otho Stuart's management, to the
Criterion under Mr Grant Allen's management, to His
Majesty's Theatre, where it contrived to follow Mr
Whelen. This tendency to spread was further pro-
moted by Messrs Vedrenne and Barker themselves, who,
at the height of their Court Theatre management, moved
to the Savoy Theatre. The change of house, however,
proved a failure. Unable to meet the increased expense,
the partnership came to an end in 1907, Thereafter the
repertory " theatre " began to accompany Mr Barker
from place to place, appearing in turn at the Queen's,
Duke of York's, Little, and Kingsway Theatres. At
the Duke of York's Theatre another determined attempt

APPENDICES 309 I

was made to establish the London movement on a
lasting basis, Mr Barker, no doubt aided hy Sir
J. M. Barrie, obtained the assistance of Mr Charles
Frohman. A powerful body of authors and a strong
stock company were formed, Mr Frohman lent his
theatre, Sir J. M. Barrie guaranteed the funds, and with
the press beating the big drum, the first season was
inaugurated. The season lasted for seventeen weeks,
during which time one hundred and seventeen perform-
ances of ten plays were given. At the end of the first
season the experiment collapsed. Mr Frohman retired,
and the patience and capital of other enthusiasts being
exhausted, the Duke of York's Repertory Theatre came
to an end. The London movement has never recovered
from this set-back.

If one feels assured that the aforementioned Repertory
Theatre movement in London is made of German shreds
and leavings of the past, one also feels that without these
ready-made traditions it might be worse off than it is,
with an impulse or two less than it possesses. The
introduction of these traditions, partly by the Stage
Society and more fully by the Court Theatre manage-
ment, does enable us to experience to-day a sensation of
animation running through the country, through cob-
webby theatres, stimulated directors, authors, players,
and public. Everywhere in the provinces, as well as
in the Colonies, repertory theatres are springing up,
bringing forth every possible form of local, intel-
lectual, and moral gospel. The first local movement
in the English provinces — a movement sworn to carry
on the London tradition — was initiated by Miss
A. E. F, Horniman, who made a start at Manchester in
1908. Long previous to this, however, Miss Horniman
helped to pioneer the movement first in London and
thereafter in Dublin. Her first enterprise was the
discovery and exploitation of Mr Bernard Shaw, and the
financial support of a season at the Avenue Theatre,
London. Thereafter, ten years later, she came to the

ni,:ii.,-iM,C00<;lc

3IO THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

rescue of Ireland, assisted the Irish Literary move-
ment, took the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, subsidised that
national speciality, the Irish Theatre Society, and,
generally speaking, set the Repertory Theatre movement
on its legs. Three years later she purchased the Gaiety
Theatre, Manchester, which, under her direction, became
an understudy of the Vedrenne-Barker enterprise in
London. The task she had outlined was not difficult of
fulfilment. During the last twenty years there has been
a steady growth and increase of private dramatic societies
— debating, propaganda, and other — not only in London,
but in all the provincial cities. Local groups of enthusi-
astic playgoers — play, rehearsal clubs, societies, etc. —
were thus formed who eagerly awaited the establishment
of a central institution that should give widest expression
to their burning ideals. In Manchester these ideals had
been fed by local enterprises, such as those of Charles
Calvert, Michael Flanagan, and Robert Courtneidgc.
Consequently when Miss Horniman set out to provide
Manchester with an organised theatre, there was the fairly
"advanced" playgoer waiting to receive her and fully
prepared to co-operate in promoting the objects of her
undertakings. These objects were :

To provide Manchester with (i) a Repertory Theatre,
with a regular change of programme, not wedded to any
one school of dramatists, but thoroughly catholic, em-
bracing the finest writings of the best authors of all ages,
and with an especially wide-open door to present-day
British writers, who will not now need to sigh in vain
for a hearing, provided only that they have something to
say worth listening to and say it in an interesting and
original manner. (2) A permanent Manchester Stock
Company of picked front-rank actors. (3) Efficient pro-
duction. (4) Popular prices.

The life of the theatre is still assured. Its repertory
_ has been a long and varied one, including classical and
H modern plays. It has paid special attention to ensemble
H sicting, and unearthed some native talent by way of

authors. Miss Horniman has apparently conquered
Manchester in a literary and moral way, and now it
is pleasant to see her contemplating a descent upon
London.

Not much need be said concerning the spread of the
Repertory Theatre movement in other directions. As I
have stated, Dublin took the infection before Manchester,
and the Irish National Theatre was the result, but not
before the usual small beginnings had been made. These
beginnings at an intellectual theatre were initiated by
W, B. Yeats and others in a small hall in Dublin in 1899.
Thence emerged the "school" of Irish authors, which
was afterwards to be so closely associated with the Abbey
Theatre when it entered upon its intellectual career in
1904. A further step in this national movement was
taken when Mr W. G. Fay organised a company of
exclusively Irish players in 190Z. In this way the Irish
National Theatre was founded and an impetus given in
Ireland to the " new " Repertory Theatre traditions. The
sight of Dublin organising its literary theatre and putting
it in working order for the use of its own playwrights
stirred up other centres, and led more than one — Ulster
among them— to follow the fashion in literary theatres
and groups of local writers and authors.

Following Manchester came Glasgow with its Citizen's
Theatre in 1 909, In the Citizen's Theatre we have a break
from the privately endowed to the publicly owned theatre
— such as Germany possesses in abundance. In the case of
the Glasgow Theatre, the concern was floated as a company
with a nominal capital of ^^3000, of which 2000 shares
of ^l each were offered for sale. The objects of the
company were stated as follows :

" I. To establish in Glasgow a Repertory Theatre
which will afford playgoers and those interested in the
drama an opportunity of witnessing such plays as are
rarely presented under the present touring company
system ;

"2. To organise a Stock Company of first-class actors

i DigmzcdbyGOOgle

312 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

and actresses for the adequate representation of such
plays ;

"3. To conduct the business of theatrical managers
and play producers in Glasgow and other places so as to
stimulate a popular interest in the more cultured, im-
portant, and permanent forms of dramatic art ; and

"4. To encourage the initiation and development of
a purely Scottish drama by providing a stage and an
acting company which will be peculiarly adapted for the
production of plays national in character, written by
Scottish men and women of letters."

These objects disclose that the Glasgow Repertory
Theatre is designed to be a literary and moral theatre,
aiming to express Glasgow through its own authors and
to foster the latest principles of interpretation, naturalistic
and realistic.

With the foundation of the Liverpool Repertory
Theatre in 1911 we reach a new departure and a more
hopeful stage of the Repertory Theatre movement.
Hitherto the provincial branch of the repertory movement
had occupied itself almost solely with the new problems
of interpretation, such as ensemble and psychological
acting, but with the coming of the Liverpool Theatre a
period of experiment with the problems of representation
is inaugurated, and, as I have mentioned in another
chapter, Mr Basil Dean begins to inquire into reforms
in staging, lighting, and decoration with which Max
Reinhardt is actively engaged at Berlin. To these reforms
he proposes to add some of his own, and to-day being
invited to co-operate in the foundation of Birmingham's
Repertory Theatre, he commences to set that city expand-
ing along desirable artistic lines.

It is not too much to hope that Mr Dean's initiative
may lead to the spread of the artistic-commercial Repertory
Theatre in the English provinces, and that Sheffield,
Leeds, and Bristol may organise their new theatres on
really advanced lines. London tried its hand at some-
thing of the kind, but as usual could make nothing

APPENDICES

313

r lasting of an advanced movement. The attempt of the
Haymarket and Little Theatres to organise themselves
artistically into being has been a failure, as yet. Appended
is a chronological table of the intellectual movement in the
German Theatre and the modern corresponding one in
the English Theatre.

Rdbim of the«lt« ■rchiteetuie.

i8[h-i9ih

Tlie Progressive Municipal
Theatre ( Diiueldorf]

Schiller
Goethe

■9tb Saxe-Mciningen Co.

Rerorm icdr%= ensemble.
, ( literary.

" ''""^=1 symbolic.

J I cultural,

" J \ Daiumlistic.

„ l theatre -iDlimslc.

" ■( speech = astiuaJ.

I icenery shkstoiical ai
[ racy.

(itig:iiig=highly rcaliitic.
production = lyntbo. aesthetic.

tsl

V Munich itftging — >iiiiphfie<l(NFwShakesp«aieui},

in J

Freien BUhne

Reform /■;"''« * Pt*""*-

I Otto Brahmizl^bok^- Retnuidt

< cal acting. " Brille " f Natanliim.

~ " \ Intimacy.

Repertory.

"Schall und Kiuch" Reatiim,
KIcines Theater Symbolitin.

Neuci Theater | ^^'^°- . .

Ensemble-
Repertory.
Thealtc

The Sptciicle
Play

■tti

jg^GoogU

314 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

. lodcpeDdent Theatie

. Avenue TTwalie

L SUge Sodcly .

, CouilThotfe .

CiiteiioD Theatre

Adelphi Theatre

Kings way Theatre .

Savoy Theatre ....

Queen's Theatre

Hu Majetty's Tbealre [Aiitiaooc

Royalty Thealre
■S84. Growth of priTBte debating lociei
to play-pioducing, rehciuial clubs,
191a.

Pruvincial Repertory Thcati
societies : —

1899. Iriih Literary Movement .
1904, liiih National Theatre
1907. Manchester Literary Theatre
1909, Glasgow Liteiaiy Theatre
igil. Liverpool Repertory Theatre .

f. T. Giein).

Miss Hornimaii).
(Frederick Whelm).
(Vedienne aitd VaiVa).

(Gianl Alia).
(Otho Stuart)
(Lena Ash well).

(Vedrenne and Barker}.

(Wheien and Dana).

(Vedrenne and Edie).
I, I Playgoers' Club, O.P. Clob,
c. ^ Dramatic Debaters,
J Gallery First Nighteri, etc.

:, Focussing activities of privat

(Veau).

(Veats and Mia HomimaD).

(Miss Horniroan}.

(AlTred Waring).

(Basil Dean).

n Tiehame).

Colonial Repertory Theatres :^

Adelaitle Literary Theatre . . (Brycei

Sydney SUge Society.

Melbourne Repertory Theatre . (Gt^an M'Mabon}.

Attempt to found an artistic Repertory Theatre ia London :-
Hayinarket Theatre .... (Herbert Trench),
Liltle Theatre (Gettnide Kingston).

Growth of propagandist play
1907. The PUy Actors.
I911. The New Players, etc.
1911. Foundation of the Cabaret Theati

Other movements contributing to the dramatic movement
Foreign enterprises of comparative and educational value : —
German Theatre in Loi^don.
French Theatre in London.
Japanese Players.
Sicilian Players.

"The Golden Calf."

English enterprises : —
Shakespeare Festival
Polk Song and Dattce Revival
Morality Play Revival
Pageant Plays .
ViUage Drama Movemeni
Ma*ic Hall EnteipriK

(Tree, Benson).

(Cecil Sharp, Mary NeaJ).

(Poel).

(Lonis Parker).

[M'Evoy, The Deioiuhire Players),

[Coliseum, Palace Tbealre).

APPENDICES 315

IV. EXPLANATION OF THE REVOLVING
STAGE SET FOR A REPRESENTATION OF
THE FIRST PART OF FAUST
In order to judge the advantages and disadvantages
which the revolving stage offers to the producer of drama
with a great variety of scenes, it is necessary to consider
it in relation to various productions worked out according
to a number of plans. The plan reproduced in this book
gives, nevertheless, a sufficiently definite idea of the com-
plication of the mechanism and different resources of the
system.

In the installation of the first part of Fausin theDeutschcs
Theater, Berlin, the revolving stage is utilised both in
its upper and lower part. Thus the Prologue com-
mences in Heaven, in a scene built on the arch of the
Cave of Auerbach, twelve feet above the stage. For the
second scene the revolving stage is turned one quarter
of its circuit and the Laboratory of Dr Faustus appears.
Another quarter of turn and the Promenade faces the
footlights. The part of the Promenade situated before
the City gate represents an undulating ground rising
gradually fifteen feet till it reaches the gate. Behind
this gate, hidden from the eyes of the spectators, is a
construction in iron, twenty feet high, which can contain
sixty men. This cage is just the height of the mountain
upon which the Walpurgis Night scene will take place.
The structure, moreover, contains, at a height of ten
feet, several spaces designed to represent the Sorcerer's
Kitchen, later the Prison and the Cave of Auerbach.
A roadway passes to the left of the scene leading to
stone steps by which access is gained to the top of the
iron structure.

The play commences with the following sets : — The
Prologue in Heaven ; the Laboratory ; the Promenade ;
Marguerite's Chamber ; the Enclosure.

After the first inter^, the Garden takes the place of
the Promenade, the Prison replaces the ICitcbAsv^ 'Je*.

3i6 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Laboratory is replaced by the Church, and Marguerite's
Chamber by that of Martha. The scene of the second
act is prepared by removing the accessories of the Road-
way, the Chamber of Marguerite, the Church, the En-
closure, and completing with rocks and trees the ground
prepared for the Walpurgis Night.

V. TABLE OF PRODUCTIONS

Talcen from Das Deutsche T/jtattr, Berlin^ and supplemented
by a list supplied by Mr Siegfried Jacobsohn.

Kleines Theater Neues Theater

1902
Aug. ig.Openirgperformancc.

Three one-act plays by Fel.

Schneider,Gu5tav Wied,Max

Drcycr,already played 1901-

2 in "Schall und Rauch."
Sept. 25, Sersnisitmui, by Leo

Feld.
Oct. 13. Rausch {Intoxication^

by Strindberg.
Oct. 29. Ackermann^ by Felix

Hollander and Lothar

Schmidt,

»Nov. 15. Saleme, by Oscar
Wilde.
The Importance of Being
Earnest, by Oscar Wilde.

Both plays in the afternoon
before an invited audience.
Dec. 17. Erdgtist, by Frank
K Wedekind.

■ Jan.

1903

Jan. 16, Erdgeiit^ asth per-
formance,

Jan. 23. The Lower Depths, by
Maxim Gorki.

APPENDICES

3^7

Klzines Theater
1903
Feb. 22. (Matinee, private per-
formance for the Lessing
Society) SaUme, by Oscar
Wilde.

Neues Theater

April 12, Afternoon, Serrnissi-
m« J- ZtfiK A «» j^i «/r (a us " Sc h al 1
und Rauch "), 300th per-
formance.

Feb. 25. Dif Loia/halw^ by

Ludwig Thoma.
Mar, 19. Die Kreuzehchreibtr^

by Ludwig Anzengruber.
April 3. PcUtas und Afeiisandt,

by Maurice Maeterlinclc.

May I, Pelleai und Mtlhattde,
25th performance.

May 15, till the end of the
month. Han Nicses' Com-
pany from the Josefsiadt
Theatre, Vienna.

June 23. The Lauier Depths,

150th performance.
July 15. End of season.
Aug. I. Beginning of new

Aug. 16. Beginning of new
season: Pe/leas und Meliiaade.

Aug. 25. Dsppeluihumord^ by
Ludwig Anzengrubcr.

Sept. 4. A Woman of Nb Im-
portance^ by Oscar Wtlde.

Sept. 18. Pelleai und Melisandty
50th performance.

' Oct. I+. The Lnoer
a 5 0th performance.

Dipih,,

Sept. 29.

Wildc.
Sept, 30.

by Fn.

Salomt, by Oscar

Dir Kammenangir^
nt Wdekind.

D,g,t,.c^byG00Sle 1

3i8 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Klbines Thkatbr

1903

Oct. 16. The RttveH^ hy Henri

Becque.
Oct. 30. Elektra^ by Hugo von

Hofmannsthal.

,31. Unttrskhj by Her-
ann Bahr.

NSUES Thbatbk

1903

Nov. 14. Lapi da Herzem^ by

Robert de Flcn and G. dc

Caillavet.
Nov. 2j. Sc iit dot Leim. by

Frank Wedekind.
Dec. 9. Fruits af EnUghtmmmt^

by Leo Tolstoi.
Dec. 19. Der Sirtm, bv Max

Halbe.

1904

Jan. 5. Sabme, 7Sth perform*
ance.

Jan. 13. T/ie Lower Depths,
300th performance.

Jan. 16. Die DeppelgSnger-Ko-

mVdie, by Adolf Paul.
Feb. 9. Eieitra, 50th perform-

Jan. 14. Minna van Bamhelm,
by G. £. Lessing.

Feb. 27. Mutter Landitraae, by
Wilhelm Schmidtbonn.

Feb. 10. Sister Beatrice j by
Maurice Maeterlinck.

The Man of Destiny^ by
Bernard Shaw.

Feb. 19. MetUtty by Euripides.

Mar. 3. Candida, by Bernard
Shaw.

n,g,t,7.dt,'G00glc

APPENDICES

Kleines Theater

1904
Mar. 12. Dts Pastors Rhhy by
Erich Schlaikjer.

July 15. End of season.

Aug, 1, Beginning of season.
Aug. 14. The Lmvcr Depths,
400th performance,

Nov. 9. Eleitra, 75Ch pcrfor
ancc.

Neues Theater
1904

Mar. 19. Ksnigsrecht, by W. A.

April 6. MSrtyrer, by Georg
Rcicke.

April 12. Kokttlerie^ by Raoul i

Aucrnheimer.
April 22. Kahale und Litht, by 1

F. Schiller.

May 10, Miss Julia^ by August
Smndbcrg.

May 18. Einen Jux will tr tich

machen, by Nestroy.
July 15, End of season.
Aug, I. Beginning of season.

Sept. 14. Salome, looth per-
formance.

Sept. 23. ^rt/^m/ (reproduction).
Prologue by Frank Wede-
kind.

Oct. 7. The Pretenders, by
Henrik Ibsen.

Oct. 21. The Merry IViwf of
fVindsory by Shakespeare,

Nov. 22. DergrUne Kakadu, by

Arthur Schnitzler.

Der tapfert Cassian, by

Arthur Schnitzler.
Dec. 8. Die slUlen Stuien, by

Svcn Lange.

15. Die MorgenrVtt, by
sef Ruederer.

Dec. 23. Der Graf vmChartlais^
by Richard Bcer-Hofmann.

iM,Coo<;le

320 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT
Klbines Theater Neues Theater

1904
Dec. 30. Dlt NtuvtrmSbhen^ by

Bjernstjernc Bjornson.
Dec. 31, Ahschitdisouper, by
Arthur Schmtzler.

April. 28. Rosmersholm,
Henrilc Ibsen.

Feb. 4. Atigele, by Otto Erich

Hartleben,

Ahichied vom Rfgiment, by

Otto Erich Hartleben.
Feb. 1 2. The Bear, by Anton

Tschechow,
Mar. 10. Sanjia, by Hermann

Bahr.

1905
Jan. 31. v^ Midsummer Night'i

Dream, by Shakespeare.
Feb. I. Graf van Charc/ais,

25th performance.

Mar. 31. Mela Kontgtn, by
Hermann Stchr.

May 5. The Lnver Depths,
500th performance.

July 7. footer Rieimann, by

Karl Strccker.
July 15. End of season.
Aug. I. Beginning of s»

Aug. 31. Last performance
under Reinhardt's manage-
ment at the Kleincs Theater.

April 30. /f Midsummer Night's
Dream, 75th performance.

May II. End of season.

Aug, 1 6. Beginning of season.

Oct. i2.lAlMidsummer\Night'i
Dream^ i joth|perfortiuncc.

„,.„a.,Ga

APPENDICES

Deutsches Theater

1905

Oct. 19. Opening performance.

KUthehrn v. Hrilbronn, by
Heinrich von Kleist.
Nov. 9. Tki Merchant c/Ftnice,
by Shakespeare.

Neues Theater
1905

Nov. 25. A Midsummtr Night's
Dream, I 50th performance.

Dec. 30. Liehei/(utty by Maurice
Don nay.

1906
Jan. 3. The Merchant of Vtnkt^

50th performance.
Jan. \X. A Florentine Tragedy^
by Oscar Wilde.

The Well of the Saintsyhj
J. M, Synge.

Der Herr KomminSr, by
Georges Courtelinc,
Feb. 2. (Edipm und die Sphinx,
by Hugo von Hofmannsthal.

1906

Mar. a8. The Merchant of
Venice, lOOth perfor

Mar. 16. Boubeuroehe, by
Georges Courteline.

(Originally produced, 5th
April 1902, by " Schall und
Rauch.")

April 12. (Edipus, 2Sth per-
formance.

April 25. Die Mllschu/digeny by
Goethe.

Tartufe, by MoUferc.

Mar. 31. Casar and Cleopatra^
by Bernard Shaw.

May II. Orpheus in the Undtr-
ground, by Cremicux-Pser-
hofer. Music by Offenbach. J

iM^Coo<;lc

322 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT
Nbues Theater

Deutsches Theater

Aug. 23. Beginning of season.
Sept. 15. A (Vinur's Tale, by

S h alee spc arc.
Oct, 17. Der Liebetitnig, by

Leo Greincr.

1906
June30. Last performance under
Reinhardt's management at
the Ncues Theater.

Nov. 30. jf fVinler'i Talt,
. 50th performance.

Dec. 20. Ringtlspitl^ by Her-
mann Babr.

Kammerspiele

1906

Nov. 8. Opening performance.

Ghosts, by Henrilc Ibsen.
Nov. 20, FrUklings Eruiacben
{Springs Awakening\ by
Frank Wcdekind.

Dec. 6. Man and Superman^ by
Bernard Shaw.

1907 1907

Jan. 4. Die Geschuiister, by
Goethe.

Jan. 7. Das Friedensfiit, by
Gerhart Hauptmann.
Jan. 29. Romn and Juliet, by
Shakespeare.

Feb. 7. Fr&hlings Ertvacken
[Springs Av/aiening), 50th
performance.
Mar. 8. The Impector General,
by NicoUiis Gogol.

Mar. II. Hedda Gaiter, by
Henri k Ibsen,

^^^^^^^^^^1

APPENDICES 323 ^

Deutsches Theater

Kammbrspiele

1907

Mar. 19. Der Gstt der Rachr,

by Schalom Asch.

Mar. 25. Love's Comedy, by
Henrik Ibsen.

April 1 5. Aglavaine und Se/yselte^
by Maur. Maeterlinck.

Apr. 25. Rohert und Bertram,

by Gustav Raedcr.

May 2. Gyges und mn Ring, by
Friedrich Hebbel.

June 7. End of season.

June?. End of season.

Aug, 8. Beginning of season.
Sept. 14. Pritt-L Fritdrich ven

Aug. 8. Beginning of season.
Aug. 29. FrSuUin Julie {Miss
Julia), by Aug. Strindberg

(reproduction).

Homburg, by Hcinrich von

Kleist.

Sept. 19. Liebe/ei (Light o'Lne)^
by Arthur Schnitzlcr.

Oct, 17. Twilfth Night, by
Shakespeare.

Oct. 26. Esther, by Franz

Griltparzer.

The Servant aftwe Masters,

by Carlo Goldoni.

Nov. 9. Der Marquis von Keith,
by Frank Wcdckind.

Dec. 20. Der Arzt ttimr Ehre

Dec. 9. Catharina, GrSfin von
Armagnac, by VollmtlUcr.

{The Donor on his Hommr),

by Calderon de k Barca

(Presber).

1908

Jan. 10. Die RUuhr [The Rob-

bers), by Friedr. SchiUcr.

D<Mz«it»GooQle ^H

324 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Deutsches Theater
1908

Mar. 7. Der Ksmpagmm^ by
Adolph I'Arronge (celebra-
tion of I'Arronge's 70th
birthday).

April II. Twftfih Night, looch

performance.
April 22. DU Rauber {The

Rabbin), 50th performance.
May 16. UHeh FUrst v. IVal-

deck, by Herbert Eulcnberg.

Kammerspielb

Jan. 23. Hoehzeil, by Emil

Strauss.
Feb. 9. FrUhUngt Eruiachtn

{Spring's Awaitning), 200th

performance.
Feb. 27. Lyiistrafa, by L .

Greiner (Aristophanes).

Mar. 30. Drr Tor und der Tad,
by H. V. Hofmannsthal.
W/H, by Ossip Dymow.

June 7. End of season.
Aug. 8. Beginning of season.
Des Mterti und der Liehe

Willen, by Franz Grillparzer.
Aug. 25. Medea, by Franz

Grillparzer.

May 24. Lyililrata, $Oth per-
formance.
June 7. End of season.
Aug. 8. Beginning of season.

Sept. 9, Kettenglieder {Linki\\}y
Hermann Heijermans.

Sept. 4. Sszialaristokraltn^ by
■ ) Holz.

Sept. 16. A'/n^ icar, by Shake-
speare.

Sept. 14. Terahya {Die Dorf-
schule). Nach Taktda Ixumt,
by Wolfgang v. Gcrsdorff.

Kim He, by Wolfgang v.
GersdorfF,

^o^^l

^^^^^^H^H

APPENDICES 345 f

Deutsches Theater

Kammerspiele

1908

.908

Sept. 29. The 2Sth anniversary

of the Dcutschen Theaters.

Kabale und Liebe.

Oct. 16. Clavigo, by Goethe.

Oct. 21. Dii Vtnchwirutfg da

Fitfco %u Genua, by Schiller.

Oct. 30. Eine Htiratsgischichu,

by Nicolei Gogol.

Nov. 5. King Lear, 2Sth per-

formance.

Nov. 14. Revolution in KrSk-

winkel, by Job. Nestroy.

Nov. 21. The Doctor's Dilemma,

by G. B. Shaw.

Dec. 5. Niemand weisi ts, by

Theodor WolfF.

Dec. 22. Der Graf von Gleicken,

by Wilh. Schmidtbonn.

1909

Jan. 29. Die Lehrerin, by Alex-

ander Brody.

^^^^^1

Feb. 26. Revolution in Krah-

^^^^^1

uiinie/y looth performance.

'^^^^H

Mar. 6. The Donor's Dilemma, ^H

50th performance. H

Mar. II, Medea, 25th per-

formance.

Mar. 25. Faust.

April 25. Wolkenkuckucksheim, ■

by Josef Ruedercr. ■

April 26. Der Graf von Gleichen, ■

50th performance. H

^ April 27. Faust, 25th perform-

^L ancc.

■

May +. Der unverttandtne H

^uftK, by Ernst v. Wol- ^|

zogen. ^1

DotizodbvCoo^le ^H

326 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT
Dedtsches Theater Kammerspiele

1909
May 31. End of season.

Hamiti, by Shakespeare

Dan Carloi, by Schiller.
The Taming of the Shre
by Shakespeare,

1909
May 31. End of season.

Major Barbara^ by Ber-
nard Shaw.

Dai Helm, by Octave
Mirbeau and Thad^ Natan-

1910

Dtr gute KSnig Dagaberl^
by Andre Rivoirc and Felix
Gallon.

Ctiriitinas Meimrehe, by
Hugo von Hofmannsthal.

JuJiih, by Hebbel.

Die Braul von Messina,
by Schiller.

I910

Dtr Naturliche Vater^
Herbert Eulcnberg.

HUfe'. Em Kind is
Him mil gtfallen, by
helm Schmidtbonn.

Gawdn, by Eduard Stuc-
ken.

SumuHiTi, by F. Freksa.

Wil-

ALPHABETICAL LIST OF AUTHORS^

Anzengruber, Die Kreu:

jchreiber.
— Doppelselhstmard,
Aristophanes, i. Greiner.
Asch, Der Gatt der Rache.
Aucrnhcimer, Koketterie.

I fiahr, RingeUpiel.

- Sanna.
I — Unttrsich.
T'Bccque, Dtt Rabi
r Raven).

Bcer-Hofmann, Graf von C

BjSrnson, Die Neuvermah/li
Brody, Die Lehrertn.

{The

Calderon, Der Arzl seiner Ehre,
Courtehne, Boukourofhe,
— Der Herr KommissHr.

Don nay, LiebesUute.
Dymow, Nju.

Eulcnberg, Ulricb Flirsl v,

IValdeck.
Euripides, Medea (iJbers. v.

Wilamowitz-MOllendorf ).

Feld, Serenissimus.
Flcrs, de (u. G. dc Caillavet),
Logik dts H trans.

> It has cot been possible to urcy this list beyond Mty I909, i

APPENDICES

GcrsdorfF, v., KimHt.
Goctbe, Ciaviga.
• — Faust.

— Dit Gticbwiiter.

— Die Mitickuldigin.
Gogol, Eine Heiratigtschiehu.

— Der Rrviior {The Inspector

Gtntral).
Goldoni, Der Diener zweier

Gorki, Nacktasyl [The Lower

Depth).
Greincr, Der L'tebeskSnig.

— Lyshlrala (Aristophanes).
Grillparxer, Either.

— Mtdea.

— Dts Metres a. der Liebe

ffeiJe^.

Halbc, Der Strem.

Hartlcbcn, jlhschied vem Regi-

— Jnge/e.

Hauptmann, Das friedens/est.
Hebbel, Gyges und sein Ring.
Heijcrmaiins, KettengHeder.
Hofmannsthal, v., Eleklra.

— (Edipat und die Sphinx.

— Der Tor und der Tod.
Hollander, Adermann.
Holz, Sozia/arisieiraten.

Ibsen, Die Gespensler [Ghosts).
_ Hedda GahUr.

— KronprUtendenten [The Pre-

tenders).

— KomSdie der Liebe [Layers

Camedy).

— Rosmertholm.

KleUi, H. v., Kaththen v. Heil-
brtnn.

— Prinz Friedrich von Hamburg.

L'Arronge, A., Der Kontpagnon.
Langc, Sven, Die stUIen Stuben.
Lcssing, Minna von Barnhelm.

Maeterlinck, Schwester Beatrix
(Sister Beatrice).

— Pelleas und Melisande.

— Aglavaine und Selysitte.
Molitre, Der TariUf {Tartufe).

Nestroy, Einen Jux will er sieh
machen.

— Revolution in KrShwinkel.

Offenbach, Orpheus in der Un-
ierwelt {Orphitts in the
Underground).

Paap, KSnigsrecht.

Paul, Die DoppelgHnger-Kamlldie.

Raeder, Robert und Bertram.
Reicke, MOrlyrer.
Ruederer, Die Mergenrttt.

— JValienkuciucksheim.

Schiller, Kabale und Liebe.

— Fiesco.

— Die Rauber.
Schlaikjcr, Des Pastors Riete.
Schmiilt, Lothar, Ackermann.
Schmidtbonn, Mutter Land-

— Graf von Gleichen.
Schnitzler, Ahschiedsseuper.

— Der grline Kaiadu.

- — Der tapfere Cassian.

— Liebe lei.

Shakespeare, KSnig Lear {King
Lear).

— Die lustigen iVeibrr v. IVind-

sor [The Merry fVivis of
fVindsor).

n,i..ii,GoOgle

321

THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Shakespeare, Romeo and Julia
(Romeo und Juliet).

— Kaufinann v. yenedig {Ater-

,ha„, .ffe^U,).

— Sommernachtstraum (Mtd-

futnmer Night's Dream).

— DoilVintermanhen [ff^interi

Tale).

— fVas ihr wallt (Twelfth

Night).
Shaw, /trzt am Scheidnvrge (Doc-
tor's Dilemma).

— Candida.

— CSiar und Cleopatra (Cteiar

and Cleopatra).

— Afensch und Oiermensch

(Man and Superman).

— Der Schlachtenlenker (The

Man of Destiny).
Stchr, Mela Konegen,
Strauss, Hochzeit.
Strccker, footer Riekmann.
Strindberg, Frilulein Julie (Miss

Juli.

— Rausth.
Synge, Df heilige Brunnen (Thi

fVell of the Saints).

Takeda Izumo, Terakoya.
Thoma, Die Lokalbahn.
Tolstoi, FrUchte der Bildung

(Fn^iti of Enlightenment).
Tschechow, Der BSr (The

Bear).

VollmCller, Graf von Charolais.

— Katharina von Armaptac.

Wcdekind, Erdgiisi.

— FrUhlings Erwachen (Spring's

Awakening).

— Der KammersHnger.

— Der Marquis von Keith.

— So ist das Leben.

Wilde, Bunbury (Importance of
being Earnest).

— Eine forenlinischf Tragtdit

(A Florentine Tragedy).

— Eine Frau ohne Bedeutung

(fVomanofNo Importance).

— Salome.

Wolff, Th., Niemand weiss es.
Wolzogcn, Der unverslandene
Mann.

^^^^^9H^^|

PP INDEX ^^1

Academy, German Royal, 84.

Calvert, Louis, 80.

Akim, 37.

Campbell, Mrs Patrick, 100.

Antoine, 100, iii.

Carmi, Maria, 333.

Appia, Adolph, 44, loi. 175-

Cave of the Golden Caff, 39.

Archer, William, 65, 86. 87, 181.

CUop&tre, 104, 181.

197.

Coleridge, 53.

Arronge, Adolph 1', 49, 59. '73-

Comidie franfaise, 36, 61.

As You Like It, 160.

Comedy 0/ Errors, 187.

Conder, Josiah, 139.

Baksl, 44, 104.

Craig, Gordon, 17, 18, 19, 30, 23,

Barker, Granville, a6, 80, 81, 85,

30,31.44,46, 53, 7», 85, 91,

189, 190, its, 359

92. 93- 94, 95. 96, 97, 98, 99.

BatTie, Sir J. M., 61.

100, loi, 106, 107, 154, 176,

Beaver Fur, Tkt, 37, 38.

,84.

Behrend, Max, ii».

Berlioz, 35.

Bernhardt. Sarah, 184.
Btthlekem, 98, 106.
Bierbaum, O. J., 70.
Blue Bird, 39, 85, 103, 197,
B6cklin, 84, 101.
Bourchier, Arthur, 78.

£>as Friendensfest, 56.

Das Gerettete Venedig, 93.

De Quinwy, 53, 91.

Der Graf von Gleichen, 187.

Dingelstedt, Franz von, 75.

Doctor's Dilemma, 183, 187.

Don Juan, 85.

Dreycr, 38.

Dumont, Louise, 43, 67, 68.

Uuse, Eleonora, 100, 106,

Brahm, Otio. 18, 35. 36,41, 4^
43, 45, 48, 54. S^. 59. 6o- 6*.
63,66,67,68,69,89,173,177.

Brandes, Georg, 61, 163.

BriUe, 40. 70.

Brackner. 84.

Earth Spirit, 181.

Burde, Emil, 33.

Elvstedt, 68.

Burgess, loa.

Engstrand, 37.

Bute, Marquis of, lot.

Eulenberg, 118.

Byrd, 98.

Byron, 53-

Eysoldt, Gertrud,^l,4,v*^0■■*•*-

3>9 -l-'V H

,,, i,,,„.Conolp ^1

330 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Faust, t6S, 185, 195, [96.

Faust I/., 194, 196.

Foldal, 37.

Freie Buhne, 38, 41, 48, 56, 57,

58. 7*-
Frohman, Charles, 24, 60,62, 157.
Fuchs, Professor Geoi^, z8, 44.
Fulda, Ludwig, 186.

Gawan, 187.
George, Stefan, 41, 46.
Ghesis, 37, 56.
Gill, Eric, 39.

Godwin, E. W., 99, 100, loa.
Goelhe, 28, 29, 41, 54, SS> ^9.
117, 168, 194, 19s, 196, 221.
Gore, Spencer F,, 39,
Gorky, 45. 73-

Gozzi, 154, 245, 246, 247, 2S5,
Gregor, Professor, 28.

Hagemann, Carl, z8, 60, 172.
Halbe, Max, 56.
HamUt, 93, 97, 104, 106.
Hamperdinck, Professor, 223,

238.
Haodel, 105.
Harding, D, Lyn, 78.
Harrison, Austin, 39.
Hartleben, D. E., 56.
Harvey, Martin, 211, 119, 22a,

259, 260.
Hauptmant), Gerhard, 37, 38, 56,

58.
Hebbel. 186.
Hedda, 67.
Hedda Gabkr, 89.
Heins, Elsa, 34.
Herr und Ditner, 186.
Hevesi, Dr Alex., 28.
Hofmannsthal, 41, 46, 92, 193.
Housmann, Laurence, 98, 106.

Ibsen, 37, 38, 56, 58, 62, 63, 64,
65, 66, 67, 6S, 89, 100, 126,

172, 181, Z20.

IfHand, 77.

Irving, Sit Henry, 27.

Irving, H. B., 54, 100, loi, 117.

Jones, Henry Arthur, 190.

Ju£tk, 186.

Julius Casar, 73, 79, 80.

Kagura, 136, 137.
Kahane, 126, 127, 129, 131, 188.
Kaini, Josef, 38, 58, 173.
Kayssler, Friedrich, 40, 43, 71,

182.
Kean, Charles, 75, 76, 79, 99, 100.
Kessler, Count, 91, 92.
Kilian, Dr, 28.
King John, 160.
King Lear, 85,
Kleist, Heinrich von, 55, 191,

Kommisarzhcvsky, Madame, Si.
Kiinstlerhaus, 40.

La utensch lager, 74.
Lee, Sir Sydney, i6j.
Lewis, Wyndham, 39.
Lindemann, 67, 88.
Littmann, Professor, 44.
Loewenfeld, Dr, 28.
London Stage Society, 38.
Lbvborg, 67.
Lower Depths, 45, 74.
Lykiardopoulas, M., 71, 73,

Maclclin, 77.

Maeterlinck, 41, 46, 4S.

Marlowe, 158.

Masi/ue of Love, 105.

Meierholdt, &2.

Meiningen, Duke of, 74.

Mephisto, 34.

Midsummer Nighfs Dream, 47,

48, tS6.
Miracle, The, 150, 151, 223, 224,

225, 226, 227.
Mirage, Le, 93.
M^o\w\, Men,, 181.

ii,Coogle ,

^■i^HH

^^» INDKX 331 1

■ Moliere, 154, i64-

Robinson, Cayley, 29. 85. 1

■ Morgenstern, Christian, 40-

Rodenback. Georges, 93. i

Morris, William, loa, iii.

Morlensgard, 38.

Rouche. Jacques, 85. ■

Mottl, as-

Rousseau, 55. H

Muck Ada About Nothing, 106,

Ruskin, John, 63, ■

196.
MuUer, 37.

Sacre Rappresentationi, 104.

Munch, Edward, 84-

5fl/<»«.f, 4*, 43. 46, 85. 181.

Savits, Jocza, 86, 87, 103, 17a.

1 Naehtasyl, 46.

Saxe-Meiningen Court Company,

S3. 74-
Seapin, 165.
Schall und Rauch. 33, 40i 4'. 4*.

W Naturalism, 54.

Nibelungen, 82, 83.

Nietzsche, Friedrich, 17, 19, 108,

70, 71.
Schelling, 55.

„.'-"■, -

Schenkel, 168.

Nijmski, 105.

Schiller, 54, SS. «54. '68, 248-

Schlenther, 58.

Oberxwr Strdmer, 34.

Schmidtbono, Wilhelm, 187.

Oedipus Rtx, 127, 19a, J09, aio,

Schroder. F. L., 77, 117, 118.

211, 311, 260.
Opera House, Covent Garden,

Schubert, 24.
Seagull, 82.

•"-

Shakespeare, 48. 53. 54, 79. 87.

OrUck, Emil, 70, 84.

104, 156. '57. '53. '6'. 163-

Otway, 91.

167, 1S9, 196, 220, 221.

Shaw, G. Bernard, 60, 64, 65, 67,

Pallenberg, Mai^ S33.

118, IS7, '7'. i8'. 189, 190-

Parsifal, 8».

Shaw, Martin, 98. ■

PelUttS and Melisande, 46, 91.

Sime, 29.

Phelps, 77.

Sorma, Agnes, 38.

_ Pinero, Sir Arthur, 26.

Spinoza, 55-

L Planche, 76.

Stage Society, London, 38.

1 Poel, William, 28, 48, 87, 103,

Slahl, Dr, 28, 76.

P '59. 16^. 193. *59, *6o-

Stanislawsky, 44, 71, 93. io6.

■ Pffwer oj Darkness, yi.

Stern, Ernst, 84, 197, 237, 153,

Probationers, 38.

256.

Pryde, James, 108.

StOrmer, 38,

Pnrccll, 98, 105.

Strauss, Richard, 43.

Strife, 81.

1 Rausck, 42, 46.

Strindberg, 42. 43-

P Reicher. Emanuel, 4'-

Stucken, Eduard, 187.

■ Richtcr, 25.

Sturm und Drang, 55, i lO.

Ricketts, Charles, 85.

Sudermann, 58.

Riltner, Rudolf, 38.

SumurUn, 117, 186, 197, 198,

Robertson. Sir Forbes, 78. "7.

199.

. ,«.

Sweete, Lyal, 39.

■■

D,citi..dbyG00Slc 1

^^^^^^^^^^^1

332 THE THEATRE OF MAX REINHARDT

Talma, 77.

Theatre, St James's. 245, 355.

Tamii^efihe 5Af«Wf 158, a6o.

St Petersbui^. 81.

Tartvffe, 165, 166.

Stadt, Salzbui^, 33.

Tchekoff, 8j-

Thierry, Edmond, 61.

Terry, Ellen, 76, 79, 99, 100,

Tieck, J. L., 55-

105, "»7-

Tolstoy, 37.

Theatre, Antoine's Free, 56.

Tree, Sir Herbert B., 17.80,81,

Covent Garden, a 17.

99, 127. 162, 184,.

des Arts, 85.

Trench, Herbert, iS, 29, 30.

Deutsches, Berlin, 33, 36, 38,

Trouhanowa, Mme. N,, 233.

49-50. S'.SS. 59. 61. 86, 87,

THrandot, 15s, 245. 246. 147.

119.1*7. 13', 173.174. 175.

248, 249. 255-

177, 183, '84.188, 197. 199.

Tumer, 62.

^^55-»57-

Dniry Lane. 79.

Vallentin, Richard, 40, 45. 48, 74-

DiJsseldorf, 67, 88, 90. 111,119.

yeneiian Nif^hi, 240, 141, 242,

Fran^aise, 61.

243. ^44. 145-

German National, no.

Venice Preserved. 91.

Glasgow Repertory, 112.

Vienna Conservatorium, 35, 37.

Globe. 168.

VoUmoeller, Karl, 240, 245.

His Majesty's, 68, 81, 84.

Votes for Women, 81.

Kammerspielhaus, 33, 50, 173,

1B3, 187.

Wagner, 74, 82, 83, 84, loi, 168,

Kleines, 42, 45, 47, 49.

169. 172, 17s.

Kunstler, Munich, 44, 170,

Waller, Lewis, 78.

177, 191.

Weavers, The, 37.

Lessing, S9. *'■

Wedekind, 43, 118, 181.

Little, 33.

Weingartner, 25.

Liverpool Repertory, 112, 177.

Wilde, Oscar, 43, 64, 85. 181.

Meiningen, 75,

Wilkinson, Norman, 85.

MoscowArt, 71,71, 73, 74, 81,

Winter's Tale, 87, 92.

183, 190.

Wolzogen, Baron Ernst von, 70.

Moscow Kleines, 72.

Wood, T. Martin, 25, 28, 29, 30.

Neues, 45, 46, 49.

Wyspianski, 31, 67. 78, I7i-

Prince of Wales, 260.

Royal, 46.

Ytllmv Jacket, 259.

Savoy, 199.

Schiller, Chart oti en burg, 1 70.

Zickel. Martin, 40.

1
1
1

^^^P miNTM BH N»\U. M*^ cn.,\.1Tl..«.\«TOW>«. B

■ „,.,GoJ

NOV 8 1986

,yLi.5U.iaao.

APR

? 8 1988

MAY 1 1988

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