CHAPTER IV.

THE EQUIPMENT OF THE STAGE[4]

[4] Throughout this chapter I am at a disadvantage in that I do not

thoroughly believe in the standards which I here set up. It is true

that I am recommending higher standards than usually prevail in the

sort of building which is here considered, or higher even than those

that prevail in the well-equipped professional theatre. It is true,

also, that these recommendations as viewed in the light of the known

and tried methods of play production, are in the nature of reform and

improvement. As such, I believe in them. As viewed in the light of the

theatre of the future, I do not so thoroughly believe in them. But

only a revolution in theatre methods can refresh our conceptions of

what sort of place this theatre of the future is to be. This matter we

shall leave for discussion in a final chapter. I should be ill-advised

in advising ambitious groups interested in building adequate little

playhouses to set aside finally the known and tried methods of play

production and the stage they involve for methods adapted to a type of

drama that may not yet exist, for methods that must be evolved only

by sensitive and versed artists of the theatre. It is true that many

signal new ideas come into any art through workers who do not know or

trouble about tradition, young hands who blunder upon valuable methods

through attacking their medium experimentally. For instance, Antoine, a

gas-fitter by trade, who began his theatrical career as an amateur, by

his daring innovations in the _Théâtre Libre_, renewed the life-force

of the French theatre. But, in the main, I believe that the most

important revolutionary changes in the stage are wrought by men who are

thoroughly versed in the old practice, as was Gordon Craig. Hence, if

the little theatres and community playhouses continue for the coming

generation with a theatre modelled after the best practice of this our

day, they may in good season contribute mightily to that theatre of the

future to which I referred. Hence, for the present it is best that I

continue in the rôle of reporter, rather than that of prophet.

The outstanding point about the stage, apart from the life the actors

bring to it, is that it is a machine. It is a mechanical device used to

aid in the setting forth of a play, much as a potter’s wheel aids the

maker of vases, or a mortise and tenon machine helps the cabinet-maker.

Perhaps the cabinet-maker is no less a hand-craftsman because he uses

the mechanical device to shorten his labor, and it is probable that

the vase has a truer form for being turned on a wheel. But cabinets

have been made wholly by hand and vases turned without the potter’s

wheel. There are people who treasure works made wholly by hand above

the machine-aided work, however artistic. The theatre once did without

the adventitious aids it now employs. Once it was merely a platform set

in the sunlight, revealed to the sight of an assembled audience. Many

believe that the theatre of the future will be something of that sort,

welcoming, however, in addition to or instead of the sun, the more

constantly available, controllable and subtly colorable electric light.

But the Greeks had their machines for the revelation of gods, and

there is something about _periaktoi_, or revolving pieces of scenery.

It is with the machines that the theatre has concerned itself most of

all. Every developed stage has employed an amount of mechanism for

the producing of those “effects” which I mentioned in the preceding

chapter; and it may be that the theatre always will,--one wing of the

theatre, the Right, doubtless.

Of late years, with the advent of the naturalistic or realistic type

of drama, the stage has sought more and more illusion, not only in

its imitations of the movements and acts of men and women but in its

representation of their surroundings. It has tried to become a more

perfect machine,--more nearly an _instrument of precision_. It may

be significant to observe that, although masterpieces of drama gave

impetus to the development of the illusion stage,--outstandingly the

plays of Ibsen,--the illusion stage has brought forth no masterpieces.

In this country, it may be held responsible for the buzz-saw,

train-wreck, or horse-race type of melodrama, a type now happily

removed from the theatre by the moving picture with its still higher

degree of visual veracity. In Germany, the stage as machine has been

developed to an extraordinary degree, and, for the most part, never

debauched by exhibitions of effects for their own sake, as in our

sensational melodrama of half a generation ago. I shall discuss a

number of these German inventions in a later chapter, but for the

present propose to consider the stage as a machine adapted to average

demands.

There are two primary demands--that the machine shall be able to

do the work demanded of it efficiently and with a minimum danger

of breakdown, and that the machine be subject to control. The work

of the stage-machine is, of course, the handling of scenery, the

illusion-stuff of the present-day stage. This scenery is of two types:

pieces that are suspended from ropes (hanging pieces), and pieces that

stand on the floor (set pieces). For exterior scenes, the first type

includes drops, “borders” representing foliage, leg-drops representing

trees, pillars, arches, etc., or sections of wall, house-front, or

other flat architectural units, large enough to warrant hanging

overhead when out of use, so as to save floor space; and--for interior

scenes--ceilings and back walls. The second type includes, for exterior

scenes, any low-standing units, such as walls, hedges, fences, tree

trunks, “wings” or set-houses; and for interior scenes, the side-walls

of the room and very often part or the whole of the back wall.

For the manipulation of hanging scenery, the most important piece of

stage machinery is the grid-iron. This is a slatted platform of steel

or iron joists, built a few feet below the roof of the stage, just

enough below to allow head-room for a man standing on it. Along the

center of the grid-iron, on a line at a right angle to the foot-lights,

is set a row of blocks and sheaves of a special type, manufactured

for stage use. Equidistant right and left of this center row by half

the width of the stage proper (the part of the stage within the

proscenium) are other rows. Over these sheaves, ropes are passed. Thus,

hanging over the stage parallel to the back wall, in sets of three,

are lines to which scenery may be attached. The other ends of the

lines in each set are brought together at one side or the other of the

stage, so that the three ropes of each set may be operated as one. On

the side to which the lines are led is located the pin-rail, either

on a fly-gallery or at the floor level. Of each set of three, the

line hanging nearest the side from which the lines are operated--the

pin-rail side--is known as the short line, the line most remote from it

is known as the long line, and the other as the center line. On very

large stages, with an opening of forty feet or more, four lines to each

set are advisable, not only to bear the greater weight of the larger

pieces of scenery required, but also to secure a better trim, or level

hang of the scenery.

These lines, needless to say, should be of the best hemp rope, of

a weight adjusted to the size of the stage. Half-inch line is the

lightest it is wise to use. This rope should be subjected to periodical

inspection, to forestall breaking and the falling of scenery, with

consequent damage to the scenery, the play, or the actors.

On some grid-irons, the blocks are screwed to the under side of the

grid. This is unsafe, as they have been known to tear loose. They

should ride the joists, the lines dropping between each two. At least

twenty-five sets of lines should be provided.

When a set of lines is not weighted with scenery, sandbags are tied to

the loose ends, so that they may be lowered to the floor when needed.

Frequently a piece of scenery will be found too heavy for one or two

men to raise from the floor. In such cases, counterweights in the

form of large sand-bags are hung on the part of the lines between the

grid-iron and the pin-rail.

The primary purpose of hanging scenery in this fashion is to be able to

haul it out of sight in the upper part of the stage when it is not in

use. Hence large overhead space is necessary. This system also makes

possible the use of unstiffened scenic units, such as drop curtains and

borders, which, literally, have no legs to stand on.

In large stages the lines are controlled from a pin-rail on a gallery,

built out from one of the side walls of the stage. In smaller stages

the pin-rail may be built against one of the side walls on the floor

level. This has various advantages--ease of access the foremost, and

the saving of a stage-hand, who would otherwise have to remain on the

fly-gallery, besides. The advantages to be claimed for the fly-gallery

are that its use leaves the stage floor clear of ropes, leaves the side

wall clear for the stacking of scenery, and is a valuable vantage point

from which to cast light upon the stage.

The stage of the Century Theatre is equipped with a counterweight

system that practically eliminates hand-power in the raising and

lowering of hanging scenery. To each set of lines is attached a metal

case, or container, which rides up the stage wall between tracks. At

the top of the stage, above each container, there is a magazine filled

with buckshot. By an ingenious mechanism, when a piece of scenery

hanging in the loft is to be lowered to the floor level, a quantity of

the shot in the container is allowed to flow out, so that the scenery

outweighs the counterweight and descends. Its descent can be stopped

at any point by brakes on the lines. When it is to be raised, shot

from the magazine above is allowed to flow into the container until

the counterweight outweighs the scenery, and the scenery ascends. The

shot that flows to the bottom of the chute is conveyed by an endless

chain-and-bucket conveyer to the magazines at the top. Such a system

is only warranted on stages of opera-house proportions. There are

also systems for controlling the lines by motors; but on the stage of

average size, man-power is the safest and most dependable.

Scenery that stands on the floor requires little by way of machinery.

Some of it is self-supporting, as are the “wings,”--folding,

screen-like pieces used to mask the sides of the stage. All set scenery

is “framed,” so that it stands rigid enough when braced from the back.

Part of the equipment of every stage is a supply of stage-braces

for the support of such scenery. These are made of hardwood, can be

extended to any desired length, have a prong at the top which hooks

into a screw-eye fastened to the scenery, and a foot-iron at the bottom

which can he fastened to the stage floor by means of a stage screw

or “peg.” The use of these pegs demands a soft-wood stage floor into

which they will bite easily. Good stage braces can be obtained from any

reliable dealer in stage equipment.

The main curtain of the theatre, if it raises and lowers, is often

operated from the fly-gallery. It is better, however, to have it

operated from the stage level, on the same side of the stage as the

fly-gallery or the pin-rail. The draw type of curtain is always handled

from the stage floor. “Travelers” for these curtains can be more

cheaply bought than made, and are kept in stock by any stage-rigging

firm.

It is well to have the stage flooring built in lateral sections resting

on joists that run the width of the stage. When traps are needed in the

floor, they can then be cut without difficulty at any point.

The lighting equipment of the stage, by far the most important of its

mechanical attributes, I shall describe later, but I shall treat here

of one device, which is structural. It is one of the German inventions

for the perfection of illusion to which I have referred, and the only

one I recommend to little theatres, far and wide. I recommend it

because of the added beauty it can bring into the playhouse, rather

than because of its merit as a part of the perfect machine. This is the

Kuppel-horizont, or sky-dome.

The sky-dome approximates in shape a quarter-sphere, much like the

shells commonly placed behind out-door band stands. The base line

begins far enough toward the front of the stage and behind the

proscenium to be masked from the opposite side of the auditorium, and

sweeps around the back of the stage. The back and sides of the dome

rise vertically for some distance and then arch at the top toward the

front of the stage. The higher the dome is, the less the canopy need

overhang the front of the stage; and the less it overhangs, the more

grid-iron space is available for hanging scenery. But it will be seen

at once that the more dome there is to take the place of the usual

hanging stuff, the fewer of the usual tawdry borders are needed.

The late Wallace Sabine, in a series of experiments conducted with a

model built at Harvard University by Theodore C. Browne and the present

writer, concluded that the quarter-sphere was disadvantageous to the

acoustics of the stage and was not required in order to obtain the

best results in lighting. He recommended a form flatter at the back and

with a sharper curvature at the sides and top.

Three modifications of this device have been installed in little

theatres in America--one at the Neighborhood Playhouse in New York, one

at the Beechwood Theatre in Scarborough, and one at the Arts and Crafts

Theatre in Detroit. The Neighborhood Playhouse “dome” is really little

more than a cyclorama built in plaster. It has no canopy overhead, and

the ends extend toward the front of the stage only a little distance.

The one at the Beechwood Theatre is similarly simplified. But even this

plaster cyclorama is a great improvement over the canvas cyclorama in

its stability, freedom from wrinkles, and better diffusion of light.

At the Arts and Crafts Theatre, the ends of the dome do not curve

toward the front of the stage at all, but the top arches, forming a

canopy over the back part of the stage. The only true dome in this

country was installed by Samuel J. Hume at the Madison Theatre in

Detroit, now used as a moving-picture playhouse.

With such a dome, a great deal of the litter of painted scenery can

be done away with. A background of light takes the place of the usual

painted back-drop, and much of the scenery usually set at the sides

or hung overhead, merely to keep the eye from penetrating to the

back-regions of the stage, is no longer needed.

Added to the stage at the time of construction, the dome costs little

more than the price of its materials. The initial cost will be saved

many times over in the decreased cost of scenery. The very least that

should be done, if the budget does not allow for the construction

of an entire dome, is to plaster the back wall of the stage. This,

more than counterweights, traps, revolving stages, and all the other

paraphernalia of advanced construction, will extend the possibilities

of the stage machine, not only for the uses of illusion but for the

service of the imagination.

A familiar feature of most theatres in which productions are made is

the paint-bridge and paint-frame at the back of the stage. Here the

scenery to be painted, mounted on the frame, is raised and lowered

before the bridge. To my mind, this is a waste of space and money.

Primarily it is a waste of space at the back of the stage. If the dome

is used it is quite out of the question. But, strongest argument of

all, it is not needed. If the scenery must be painted in the theatre,

it can be painted lying flat on the floor. The saving on this item may

well be enough to cover the cost of the sky-dome.

[Illustration: Auditorium of the Arts and Crafts Theatre, Detroit.

This theatre is of particular interest in connection with the movement

to build community houses as war memorials. It shows how a playhouse

may be fitted informally and beautifully into a building not designed

primarily for dramatic purposes.]

[Illustration: Auditorium of the theatre at the Carnegie Institute

of Technology, Pittsburgh. This is an admirable example of dignified

decoration, uniform floor slope, and generously spaced seats; but the

auditorium is too wide to secure adequate sight-lines from all seats.

See plan on page 28.]

On building a theatre Stage construction and equipment for small theatres, schools and community · 第 4 / 6 章