THEATRES.
_Ques._ Did the theatrical representations of the Greeks resemble
those of modern times?
_Ans._ They differed widely, both in the arrangement of the drama, and
the mode of representation. The greatest distinction lay, perhaps, in
the structure of the theatre itself.
_Ques._ Describe the general plan of a Greek theatre?
_Ans._ It was quite open above, and the dramas were always acted in
the light of day, beneath the bright canopy of a southern heaven. The
Romans at a later period introduced awnings to screen the audience
from the sun, but the Greeks would have regarded such a precaution as
a mark of effeminacy; and it must be admitted that their milder
climate rendered it almost unnecessary. If a storm or a shower came
on, the play was, of course, interrupted; the gods and heroes
disappeared, and the audience sought shelter in the lofty colonnade
which always ran behind their seats. They chose to suffer these
occasional inconveniences, rather than shut themselves up in a close
and crowded house, and forfeit the sunny brightness of what was to
them a national, and even, in some sort, religious solemnity. To have
covered in the stage itself, and imprisoned gods and heroes in a
gloomy apartment artificially lighted, would have appeared to the
ancients in the highest degree absurd.
The great theatre of Bacchus, at Athens, is the only structure of the
kind of which a complete description has reached us. It may serve to
give a general idea of these edifices.
This theatre stood on the southeastern side of the eminence which was
crowned by the noble buildings of the Acropolis. From the level of the
plain below, a semicircular excavation ascended far up on the slope of
the hill. Round the concavity, seats for an audience of thirty
thousand persons arose, range above range; higher still, the whole was
enclosed by a lofty portico adorned with statues and surmounted by a
balustraded terrace. For the convenience of entering and leaving, the
tiers of benches were divided at intervals, by passages extending
around the theatre, and again transversely, into wedge-like masses, by
flights of steps which radiated from the lowest tier to the portico
above. The lower seats, being more conveniently placed for seeing and
hearing, were esteemed the most honorable, and were reserved for the
high magistrates, the priests and the Senate. Below, was the
semicircular orchestra, or pit, which was generally occupied by the
chorus. Elevated above the orchestra, and opposite the lower seats,
was the stage itself. This had a very wide front and but little depth.
The actors usually spoke in the central part, called logeum, or
pulpitum. Behind this, the stage grew deeper, and formed a quadrangle
called the proscenium. This was enclosed by lofty buildings of
stone-work, representing externally a palace-like mansion, and
containing within withdrawing rooms for the actors, and receptacles
for the stage machinery. When the nature of the play rendered it
necessary, these buildings were concealed by painted scenes. In the
greater number of tragedies, however, the whole action might be
carried on appropriately enough in the portico or court of a palace.
There were also contrivances by which a portion of the interior might
be exposed to view. The rank of the personages was generally indicated
by the particular door at which they entered; that in the centre of
the proscenium being reserved for royalty. Wonderful effects were
produced by the use of the machinery which was disposed behind the
walls of the stage. Supported by ropes, or iron cranes, carefully
concealed, gods appeared in the air, descended on the stage, and
performed their allotted part in the drama. Heroes also ascended to
Olympus, and were hidden at length from view by scenic clouds. In the
Prometheus of Æschylus, Oceanus passes through the air, mounted on a
griffin, and a choir of fifteen ocean nymphs is introduced in a flying
chariot. In another piece, Aurora descends and carries off the dead
body of Memnon. Ghosts and infernal deities ascended from beneath the
stage, where there were appropriate contrivances for their
introduction. When it was necessary to conceal the stage, the curtain
was not dropped, but drawn up from beneath the floor.
_Ques._ Was there anything peculiar in the dress of the actors?
_Ans._ The costumes were splendid, and carefully adapted to the rank
and character of the personages represented. The actors wore masks
which covered the entire head. When gods or heroic personages were
represented, the masks were larger than life, and the disproportion of
the size of the head with the rest of the body, was obviated by two
different contrivances. The cothurnus, or buskin, was soled with
several layers of cork, which added at least three inches to the
height of the actor, and the dress was judiciously padded, so as to
give the whole figure the necessary heroic dimensions. Women were not
admitted on the Greek stage; the female parts were always performed by
men, wearing appropriate wigs and masks.
It has been supposed that the use of masks must have embarrassed the
actors, and made them appear stiff and unnatural. This may have been
true to a certain extent, but we must remember that, at the distance
at which the actors were placed from the greater part of their
audience, the changes of expression, and the play of feature would
have been quite lost, while the large and finely colored masks may
have had a very good effect. Nothing would have seemed more out of
place to the Greeks, than to see the part of Apollo or Hercules
performed by an actor with strongly marked or ordinary features.
The masks were lined with brass, and so constructed that instead of
muffling the voice, they gave it depth and volume, almost as a
speaking trumpet would have done.
_Ques._ What was the Chorus?
_Ans._ It was a choir of singers, varying in number from fifteen to
fifty. In the intervals between the acts of the drama, the chorus
chanted verses corresponding to the action of the piece, sometimes
pouring forth hymns of thanksgiving or supplication to the gods;
sometimes chanting odes on the instability of human affairs as
exemplified in the scenes which they had just witnessed. At other
times the chorus broke forth into lamentations over the untimely fate
of some personage of the drama, or denounced the anger of the gods on
the head of a tyrant. Besides this more legitimate action of the
chorus, it was occasionally permitted to take part in the dialogue.
Even in this case they always remained in the orchestra.
The singing was always accompanied by dances which varied according to
the nature of the piece. All the movements of a tragic chorus were
slow and grave, while in the lighter pieces, the music and the
measures of the dance were quick and lively. The dress of the chorus
varied in the same manner. In certain tragedies, these singers
personated the Eumenides or Furies. These were generally robed in
black, with purple girdles. They brandished whips, wreathed with
serpents, in their fleshless hands, and their aspect was rendered
still more terrible by the frightful masks which appeared beneath
their snaky tresses. We are told that when Æschylus introduced such a
chorus in one of his tragedies, the terror of the spectators was such
that many fainted, and several children died of fright.
In this connection we have an interesting story. Ibycus, a lyric poet,
was on his way to the Isthmian games, when he was waylaid by two
robbers. The unhappy bard called in vain for aid; no human help was
near; but his last, despairing cry was echoed by the hoarse scream of
a flock of cranes which was passing overhead. The dying poet heard,
and looking upwards, prayed the birds to discover and avenge the crime
which they alone had seen. The murderers heard this appeal, to which,
however, they paid no heed at the time. The body of Ibycus was found
and recognized, and the multitude assembled to witness the Isthmian
games were sorely disappointed and dismayed at the sad tidings of his
death. They crowded the tribunals and demanded vengeance on the
murderers, but no trace could be found which might lead to their
discovery. The festival proceeded, the fate of Ibycus being still on
every tongue. The assembled people were assisting at a dramatic
representation, when the dread chorus of the Furies advanced with
measured step, and made the circuit of the Theatre. The sound of
instruments was heard no more as their choral hymn swelled and rose,
thrilling the hearts of all who heard. They sang of the happiness
enjoyed by the pure of heart, of the good man whose dwelling was never
darkened by their shadow. Then the blood of the listeners grew cold
with fear as they told of the vengeance which it was theirs to wreak
on the secret murderer, on him whose crime had been vainly hidden from
mortal eye. Thus they sang in measured cadence, and passed from view,
while a solemn stillness settled on the vast assembly. At this moment
a voice was heard from the upper benches, exclaiming, as if in sudden
terror, "Behold, comrade! yonder are the cranes of Ibycus!" and a
flight of cranes was seen passing directly over the Theatre. The name
of the murdered poet caught the ears of the multitude. Each one asked
what this exclamation might mean, and what had the cranes to do with
him. A cry was raised to seize the man who had spoken, and the one to
whom his speech had been addressed. The wretched murderers, thus
betrayed by their own guilty fears, confessed the crime, and suffered
the punishment they had deserved. Attempts have been made by French
and German tragedians, to revive the ancient chorus, but without
success, as it is entirely unsuited to the modern drama.
_Ques._ Were dramatic entertainments as frequent in ancient times as
in our own?
_Ans._ No; but they took place several times in the year, forming a
necessary part in the celebration of the principal festivals. The best
actors were engaged long beforehand, and were subject to heavy fines
if they failed to appear on the appointed day. When such an
entertainment was about to take place, the people hastened to the
theatre at the dawn of day, that they might secure good seats, as the
performance commenced at a very early hour. There were three or four
distinct representations during the day, divided by short intervals of
repose. During these, the audience walked in the neighboring groves,
amused themselves, and partook of the refreshments which they brought
with them. When different dramatic poets contended for the prize of
excellence, they generally presented two or three pieces each, so that
twelve complete dramas were sometimes performed on the same day.
_Ques._ Were these theatres free to all?
_Ans._ No; each person was obliged to pay a small sum for admission.
When Pericles wished to gain the favor of the Athenians, he reduced
the entrance fee to two oboli, and obtained a decree that even this
trifling sum should be furnished by the magistrates to the poorer
class of citizens. The theatres themselves were erected, and in a
great measure maintained at the expense of the state. The cost of the
entertainments must have been heavy, if we are to judge by the
descriptions given of the scenic arrangements. It is even said that
when groves were required, living trees from the forest were planted
on the stage.
Whatever may have been the faults of the Greek drama, there is no
doubt that it was intended to inculcate principles of religion and
morality.
The theatrical entertainments of the Greeks, and their public games,
form a striking contrast to the inhuman sports of the Roman
amphitheatre.