It is a curiosity in the history of national genius to discover a people
with such a native fund of comic humour, combined with such passionate
gesticulation, that they could deeply interest in acting a Comedy,
carried on by dialogue, intrigue, and character, _all' improvista_, or
_impromptu_; the actors undergoing no rehearsal, and, in fact, composing
while they were acting. The plot, called _Scenario_, consisting merely
of the scenes enumerated, with the characters indicated, was first
written out; it was then suspended at the back of the stage, and from
the mere inspection, the actors came forward to perform the dialogue
entirely depending on their own genius.[46]
"These pieces must have been detestable, and the actors mere buffoons,"
exclaim the northern critics, whose imaginations have a coldness in
them, like a frost in spring. But when the art of Extemporal Comedy
flourished among these children of fancy, the universal pleasure these
representations afforded to a whole vivacious people, and the recorded
celebrity of their great actors, open a new field for the speculation of
genius. It may seem more extraordinary that some of its votaries have
maintained that it possessed some peculiar advantages over written
compositions. When Goldoni reformed the Italian theatre by regular
comedies, he found an invincible opposition from the enthusiasts of
their old Comedy: for two centuries it had been the amusement of Italy,
and was a species of comic entertainment which it had created. Inventive
minds were fond of sketching out these outlines of pieces, and other men
of genius delighted in their representation.
The inspiration of national genius alone could produce this phenomenon;
and these Extemporal Comedies were, indeed, indigenous to the soil.
Italy, a land of _Improvisatori_, kept up from the time of their old
masters, the Romans, the same fervid fancy. The ancient _Atellanæ
Fabulæ_, or Atellane Farces, originated at Atella, a town in the
neighbourhood of ancient Naples; and these, too, were extemporal
Interludes, or, as Livy terms them, _Exodia_. We find in that historian
a little interesting narrative of the theatrical history of the Romans;
when the dramatic performances at Rome were becoming too sentimental and
declamatory, banishing the playfulness and the mirth of Comedy, the
Roman youth left these graver performances to the professed actors, and
revived, perhaps in imitation of the licentious _Satyra_ of the Greeks,
the ancient custom of versifying pleasantries, and throwing out jests
and raillery among themselves for their own diversion.[47] These Atellan
Farces were probably not so low in humour as they have been
represented;[48] or at least the Roman youth, on their revival,
exercised a chaster taste, for they are noticed by Cicero in a letter to
his literary friend Papyrius Pætus. "But to turn from the serious to the
jocose part of your letter--the strain of pleasantry you break into,
immediately after having quoted the tragedy of Oenomaus, puts me in mind
of the _modern method_ of introducing at the _end_ of these _graver
dramatic pieces_ the _buffoon humour of our low Mimes_ instead of the
_more delicate burlesque of the old Atellan Farces_."[49] This very
curious passage distinctly marks out the two classes, which so many
centuries after Cicero were revived in the _Pantomime_ of Italy, and in
its _Extemporal Comedy_.[50]
The critics on our side of the Alps reproached the Italians for the
extemporal comedies; and Marmontel rashly declared that the nation did
not possess a single comedy which could endure perusal. But he drew his
notions from the low farces of the Italian theatre at Paris, and he
censured what he had never read.[51] The comedies of Bibiena, Del Lasca,
Del Secchi, and others, are models of classical comedy, but not the
popular favourites of Italy. Signorelli distinguishes two species of
Italian comedy: those which he calls _commedie antiche ed eruditi_,
ancient and learned comedies; and those of _commedie dell' arte_, or _a
soggetto_, comedies suggested.--The first were moulded on classical
models, recited in their academies to a select audience, and performed
by amateurs; but the _commedie a soggetto_, the extemporal comedies,
were invented by professional actors of genius. More delightful to the
fancy of the Italians, and more congenial to their talents, in spite of
the graver critics, who even in their amusements cannot cast off the
manacles of precedence, the Italians resolved to be pleased for
themselves, with their own natural vein; and preferred a freedom of
original humour and invention incompatible with regular productions, but
which inspired admirable actors, and secured full audiences.
Men of great genius had a passion for performing in these extemporal
comedies. Salvator Rosa was famous for his character of a Calabrian
clown; whose original he had probably often studied amidst that
mountainous scenery in which his pencil delighted. Of their manner of
acting I find an interesting anecdote in Passeri's life of this great
painter; he shall tell his own story.
"One summer Salvator Rosa joined a company of young persons who were
curiously addicted to the making of _commedie all' improviso_. In the
midst of a vineyard they raised a rustic stage, under the direction of
one Mussi, who enjoyed some literary reputation, particularly for his
sermons preached in Lent.
"Their second comedy was numerously attended, and I went among the rest;
I sat on the same bench, by good fortune, with the Cavalier Bernini,
Romanelli, and Guido, all well-known persons. Salvator Rosa, who had
already made himself a favourite with the Roman people, under the
character of _Formica_[52] opened with a prologue, in company with other
actors. He proposed, for relieving themselves of the extreme heats and
_ennui_, that they should make a comedy, and all agreed. Formica then
spoke these exact words:
"_Non boglio già, che facimmo commedie come cierti, che tagliano li
panni aduosso a chisto, o a chillo; perche co lo tiempo se fa vedere
chiù veloce lo taglio de no rasuolo, che la penna de no poeta; e ne
manco boglio, che facimmo venire nella scena porta, citazioni,
acquavitari, e crapari, e ste schifenze che tengo spropositi da aseno._"
One part of this humour lies in the dialect, which is Venetian; but
there was a concealed stroke of satire, a snake in the grass. The sense
of the passage is, "I will not, however, that we should make a comedy
like certain persons who cut clothes, and put them on this man's back,
and on that man's back; for at last the time comes which shows how much
faster went the cut of the shears than the pen of the poet; nor will we
have entering on the scene, couriers, brandy-sellers, and goatherds, and
there stare shy and blockish, which I think worthy the senseless
invention of an ass."
Passeri now proceeds: "At this time Bernini had made a comedy in the
Carnival, very pungent and biting; and that summer he had one of
Castelli's performed in the suburbs, where, to represent the dawn of
day, appeared on the stage water-carriers, couriers, and goat-herds,
going about--all which is contrary to rule, which allows of no character
who is not concerned in the dialogue to mix with the groups. At these
words of the Formica, I, who well knew his meaning, instantly glanced my
eye at Bernini, to observe his movements; but he, with an artificial
carelessness, showed that this 'cut of the shears' did not touch him;
and he made no apparent show of being hurt. But Castelli, who was also
near, tossing his head and smiling in bitterness, showed clearly that he
was hit."
This Italian story, told with all the poignant relish of these vivacious
natives, to whom such a stinging incident was an important event, also
shows the personal freedoms taken on these occasions by a man of genius,
entirely in the spirit of the ancient Roman Atellana, or the Grecian
Satyra.
Riccoboni has discussed the curious subject of Extemporal Comedy with
equal modesty and feeling; and Gherardi, with more exultation and
egotism. "This kind of _spectacle_," says Riccoboni, "is peculiar to
Italy; one cannot deny that it has graces perfectly its own, and which
written Comedy can never exhibit. This _impromptu_ mode of acting
furnishes opportunities for a perpetual change in the performance, so
that the same _scenario_ repeated still appears a new one: thus one
Comedy may become twenty Comedies. An actor of this description, always
supposing an actor of genius, is more vividly affected than one who has
coldly got his part by rote." But Riccoboni could not deny that there
were inconveniences in this singular art. One difficulty not easily
surmounted was the preventing of all the actors speaking together; each
one eager to reply before the other had finished. It was a nice point to
know when to yield up the scene entirely to a predominant character,
when agitated by violent passion; nor did it require a less exercised
tact to feel when to stop; the vanity of an actor often spoiled a fine
scene.
It evidently required that some of the actors at least should be blessed
with genius, and what is scarcely less difficult to find, with a certain
equality of talents; for the performance of the happiest actor of this
school greatly depends on the excitement he receives from his companion;
an actor beneath mediocrity would ruin a piece. "But figure, memory,
voice, and even sensibility, are not sufficient for the actor _all'
improvista_; he must be in the habit of cultivating the imagination,
pouring forth the flow of expression, and prompt in those flashes which
instantaneously vibrate in the plaudits of an audience." And this
accomplished extemporal actor feelingly laments that those destined to
his profession, who require the most careful education, are likely to
have received the most neglected one. Lucian, in his curious treatise on
Tragic Pantomime, asserts that the great actor should also be a man of
letters, and such were Garrick and Kemble.
The lively Gherardi throws out some curious information respecting this
singular art: "Any one may learn a part by rote, and do something bad,
or indifferent, on another theatre. With us the affair is quite
otherwise; and when an Italian actor dies, it is with infinite
difficulty we can supply his place. An Italian actor learns nothing by
head; he looks on the subject for a moment before he comes forward on
the stage, and entirely depends on his imagination for the rest. The
actor who is accustomed merely to recite what he has been taught is so
completely occupied by his memory, that he appears to stand, as it were,
unconnected either with the audience or his companion; he is so
impatient to deliver himself of the burthen he is carrying, that he
trembles like a school-boy, or is as senseless as an Echo, and could
never speak if others had not spoken before. Such a tutored actor among
us would be like a paralytic arm to a body; an unserviceable member,
only fatiguing the healthy action of the sound parts. Our performers,
who became illustrious by their art, charmed the spectators by the
beauty of their voice, their spontaneous gestures, the flexibility of
their passions, while a certain natural air never failed them in their
motions and their dialogue."
Here, then, is a species of the histrionic art unknown to us, and
running counter to that critical canon which our great poet, but not
powerful actor, has delivered to the actors themselves, "to speak no
more than is set down for them." The present art consisted in happily
performing the reverse.
Much of the merit of these actors unquestionably must be attributed to
the felicity of the national genius. But there were probably some secret
aids in this singular art of Extemporal Comedy which the pride of the
artist has concealed. Some traits in the character, and some wit in the
dialogue, might descend traditionally; and the most experienced actor on
that stage would make use of his memory more than he was willing to
confess. Goldoni records an unlucky adventure of his "Harlequin Lost and
Found," which outline he had sketched for the Italian company; it was
well received at Paris, but utterly failed at Fontainebleau, for some of
the actors had thought proper to incorporate too many jokes of the "Cocu
Imaginaire," which displeased the court, and ruined the piece. When a
new piece was to be performed, the chief actor summoned the troop in the
morning, read the plot, and explained the story, to contrive scenes. It
was like playing the whole performance before the actors. These hints of
scenes were all the rehearsal. When the actor entered on the scene he
did not know what was to come, nor had he any prompter to help him on;
much, too, depended on the talents of his companions; yet sometimes a
scene might be preconcerted. Invention, humour, bold conception of
character, and rapid strokes of genius, they habitually exercised--and
the pantomimic arts of gesture, the passionate or humorous expression of
their feelings, would assist an actor when his genius for a moment had
deserted him. Such excellence was not long hereditary, and in the
decline of this singular art its defects became more apparent. The race
had degenerated; the inexperienced actor became loquacious; long
monologues were contrived by a barren genius to hide his incapacity for
spirited dialogue; and a wearisome repetition of trivial jests, coarse
humour, and vulgar buffoonery, damned the _Commedia a soggetto_, and
sunk it to a Bartholomew-fair play. But the miracle which genius
produced it may repeat, whenever the same happy combination of
circumstances and persons shall occur together.
I shall give one anecdote to record the possible excellence of the art.
Louis Riccoboni, known in the annals of this theatre by the adopted name
of Lelio, his favourite _amoroso_ character, was not only an
accomplished actor, but a literary man; and with his wife Flaminia,
afterwards the celebrated novelist, displayed a rare union of talents
and of minds. It was suspected that they did not act _all' improvista_,
from the facility and the elegance of their dialogue; and a clamour was
now raised in the literary circles, who had long been jealous of the
fascination which attracted the public to the Italian theatre. It was
said that the Riccobonis were imposing on the public credulity; and that
their pretended Extemporal Comedies were preconcerted scenes. To
terminate this civil war between the rival theatres, La Motte offered to
sketch a plot in five acts, and the Italians were challenged to perform
it. This defiance was instantly accepted. On the morning of the
representation Lelio detailed the story to his troop, hung up the
_Scenario_ in its usual place, and the whole company was ready at the
drawing of the curtain. The plot given in by La Motte was performed to
admiration; and all Paris witnessed the triumph. La Motte afterwards
composed this very comedy for the French theatre, _L'Amante difficile_,
yet still the extemporal one at the Italian theatre remained a more
permanent favourite; and the public were delighted by seeing the same
piece perpetually offering novelties and changing its character at the
fancy of the actors. This fact conveys an idea of dramatic execution
which does not enter into our experience. Riccoboni carried the
_Commedie dell' Arte_ to a new perfection, by the introduction of an
elegant fable and serious characters; and he raised the dignity of the
Italian stage, when he inscribed on its curtain,
"CASTIGAT RIDENDO MORES."