[Sidenote: Miss Fanny Brough thinks that it is indispensable.]
Of course, there will be the usual outcry that we don't want an Academy
of British Dramatic Art because we have not had one hitherto; but there
are many things wanted now-a-days which our forefathers had to do
without. I don't say for a moment that the heads of the profession in
England are not equal to those of France or other countries; it is the
rank and file of whom I complain. They never get a chance of learning
how to walk or talk properly on the stage, and, consequently, minor
parts are frequently very badly played in English theatres. For
instance, I went on the stage--in the provinces--just when the old
system of stock companies was dying out. A few years before then it
would have been possible to receive an admirable training in the
provinces. But when I went on the stage, touring companies took
possession of the land, and I had only two parts in eighteen months.
What possible chance was there of learning to act under such a system?
None at all. The result was that when I came to London, and had a
comparatively good part offered me, I did not feel satisfied with the
way I played it, and returned to the provinces. The difficulty, of
course, is how to exist whilst qualifying for the stage. I maintain that
a Dramatic Academy would do away with this difficulty, and tend to the
improvement of British Dramatic Art in numberless ways. There are
hundreds of inefficient teachers who profess to train people for the
stage, although they themselves know nothing of the art of acting. As
long as there are wealthy tyros mad to go on the stage at any cost, so
long will inefficient teachers continue to flourish.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: The Dramatic Academy must be subsidised.]
Of course, the Dramatic Academy would have to be subsidised, either by
the Government or private individuals. The experiment is not a new one.
It has been tried at the Paris Conservatoire, the National Dramatic
Academy at Buda-Pesth, the theatrical school at Berlin, and the Dramatic
Conservatoires in Vienna and Amsterdam. Surely it would be possible to
collate the experiences of these various institutions and arrive at a
basis on which to work. A committee of our leading actors and managers
might be appointed to report on the matter. There is a great deal of
nonsense talked about the heaven-born genius plunging into the first
ranks of the profession at a bound, but, as a rule, the heaven-born
genius requires a great deal of preparatory work to fit him for his
profession. Mr. Grein, of the Independent Theatre, puts forward a very
comprehensive plan for the working of such an academy. He proposes--(1.)
The school should be open to children at thirteen. (2.) That they should
pass a competitive examination. (3.) That the school should be divided
into five classes, the three lower ones to be entirely preparatory. (4.)
That the tuition for acting should not begin until these three classes
are passed, or, in other words, that the pupil should spend four years
in merely preparatory work. (5.) That if the pupil then shows no special
aptitude, he should be recommended to give up all idea of the stage.
(6.) That six hours a week should be bestowed on diction and acting.
(7.) That at the end of the course the pupils should submit to a
semi-public examination, and receive a diploma if proficient. (8.) That
the co-operation of managers should be invited, and that the conduct of
the school should be entrusted to one man (not an actor) under the
supervision of three eminent actors or actor-managers. (9.) That the
school must be endowed amply enough to tide it over the first five years
of its existence, and that the fees to pupils should be made as low as
possible. If a certain amount of energy and determination are brought to
bear on the subject, I see no reason why it should not speedily be
brought within the range of practical politics.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Mr. John Hare thinks not.]
I am loath to say anything to discourage any scheme framed for the
purpose of benefiting our art, but I cannot honestly say that, in my
opinion, the establishment of a Dramatic Academy would, in any way,
serve that purpose. The question was fully gone into by a most
influential committee called together to consider the subject some ten
years ago. It consisted of Mr. Irving, Mr. Boucicault, Mr. Bancroft, Mr.
Vezin, Mr. Kendal, Mr. Neville, Mr. H. J. Byrne, myself, and many
others. After a full discussion we found, amongst many other
difficulties, it was quite impossible to find enough competent teachers
who would undertake the work of instruction, so the matter fell through,
and, as I do not believe in the "blind leading the blind," I am
convinced that any attempt to establish an English Dramatic Academy will
prove abortive.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Mr. J. L. Toole is not quite prepared to express a decided
opinion.]
I am not quite prepared to express a decided opinion on the matter. I
am, however, more inclined to the view that a sound provincial training
will always be found the more beneficial course.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Mr. Edward Terry's experience.]
I think it desirable, but scarcely practicable. Some years ago I was
concerned in a scheme to promote the same object, my desire being that
we should start by renting a small theatre, and playing a _repertoire_
of pieces--that established actors should give their services for a
minimum fee as professors, and when out of engagements should undertake
to appear and act, taking less than their regular salaries. If the
theatre or academy succeeded, and held its own for a year, I would then
have asked for a Government subsidy. A great deal of good work was done
some few years ago by the "Dramatic Students," and I regret exceedingly
the society has ceased to exist.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Sir Augustus Harris looks upon the idea as a myth.]
What can I say? Of course, a Dramatic Academy would be a splendid
institution, with all the best actors as masters teaching the young idea
how to shoot--shoot straight, of course; and what a saving it would be
to poor managers, who then could refer the thousands of aspirants for
dramatic glory to it to become pupils and get prizes before asking for
engagements. But alas! and alas!! where are the actors who will give
their time and trouble to such a noble cause? I think our rough and
ready way the only one suited to our peculiarities, and, therefore, look
upon the idea as a myth.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Miss Rose Norreys thinks it would be a difficult project.]
An Academy of Dramatic Art, where each student must first win a diploma
before being eligible for the stage, would be an inestimable advantage;
but, unless this academy were founded and endowed by the "State," it
would again prove to be impracticable. Moreover, as there is an
universally accepted theory that the British public does _not want Art_,
but merely demands to be amused, or to have its attention attracted (by
some means or other), I fear it would be a somewhat difficult affair to
induce the "State" to regard the proposition as anything but a trivial
one.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Mr. William Terriss thinks there is no necessity.]
I do not think the profession to which I have the honour to belong has
any necessity for a Dramatic Academy. Actors and actresses have come,
and are constantly coming, to the front who have learnt their business
at the best of schools--the stage, which is always self-instructing. It
is not so much a lack of ability (which is the cause of a seeming lack
of artists) as opportunity.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Cyril Maude thinks it necessary.]
It seems to me that under the existing state of affairs, actors and
actresses have to spend the best and most useful years of their life in
a struggle to acquire a bare knowledge of the principles of their art.
Could not the acquisition of this knowledge be aided and accelerated by
a school in which, for reasonable terms, the beginner could learn the
adjuncts of the art he has chosen, such as ease of carriage, how to
speak properly (let us drop that misused word _elocution_, which only
suggests the schoolgirl's recitation), fencing, production of voice,
dancing, etc., not forgetting how to make up? _Then_ let the tyro go
into the provinces, where he must gain a certain amount of experience
with constant change of theatres and of audience week by week. Who will
say that this preliminary training would not be of enormous advantage to
the beginner? _But_ surely this school should not profess to teach
_acting_, but the different arts and accomplishments which go to help to
make the actor.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Mr. Murray Carson is of opinion that the actor's own
discretion should be his tutor.]
I do not think a Dramatic College is either practicable or necessary.
You could not expect the public, or the critics, to attend a series of
performances given by novices; and as constant appearances in public
must outweigh all other forms of teaching, it would be more profitable
to the beginner to join a provincial _repertoire_ company, and thus come
into nightly encounter with his final judges, the public, thereby
learning the most essential quality of the art--how to make his
personality and his particular form or method the master of their
feelings. Now, as the personality of every actor differs, so, I contend,
must his method vary, not only in what is termed the "reading" of a
part, but also in the technique of his execution. If to become a mere
walking, talking machine, be the object of a beginner, by all means let
him be instructed in calisthenics and elocution, and the art of
first-night speech-making; but to call such a combination of classes a
School of Dramatic Art is degrading; it robs the calling of its highest
attribute--imagination. Innate ability must undoubtedly be developed,
"which nobody can deny," but such an institution as is suggested would
develop everything in the same form; and as there is no accepted
standard to aim at, the result would be, so many impressions of the
mind of the teacher, who might possibly be wrong. It is impossible to
talk about learning to "walk the stage," dancing, fencing, etc., etc.,
as being of sufficient importance to demand a national institution. I
have known very fine actors who neither walked well nor spoke
distinctly. A school _supported by the profession_, at which it would be
possible for an actor to take lessons in any of these _accessories_ from
accredited masters, for a small fee, would be invaluable, but it could
not by any possibility lay claim to the title "School of Dramatic Art."
After a few general hints, which are not in the nature of an academical
lecture, Shakespeare himself says, in that memorable address to the
players, "But let your own discretion be your tutor." You cannot learn
discretion, it must be the result of experience--an experience made up
of hard work, many disappointments, self-analysis, and, above all, much
patience.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Cecil Rayleigh does not believe in it.]
I do not believe in an Academy of Acting, because I do not believe that
the art of acting can be taught. The art of the actor is merely the
faculty or instinct for simulation that everybody possesses in a greater
or less degree. Every savage can simulate or imitate the cries of birds
and beasts. Every savage can cover himself with a skin and stalk a herd
of deer so disguised. But some savages do these things better than
others. Every child, when it wants to thoroughly enjoy itself, plays at
being something other than it really is. The girl takes a doll and plays
at being a mother. The boy puts on a paper cocked hat and plays at being
a soldier. We can all act more or less. Between Mr. Irving as _King
Lear_, and the beggar who shivers on your door-step and swears that his
wife and six children have not tasted food for a fortnight, the
difference is one of degree, not of kind. The Pharisees of Scripture
pretended to be what they were not, and got roundly denounced as
hypocrites for their pains. As a fact, they were only incipient actors.
The talk about teaching is, to my thinking, undiluted twaddle. The
inherent desire to simulate grows, or it does not grow. You cannot make
it grow. If a naturally awkward man can simulate the graces of a dancing
master, if a naturally graceful man can simulate the limp of a cripple
or the clumsiness of a hobbledehoy, if a comparative dwarf--like
Kean--can assume the majesty of a monarch, then he is an actor. You may
teach him to fence, and to dance, and to elocute till he is black in the
face; you will never teach him to play "Othello" unless he is an actor.
That fencing, dancing, and elocution are useful to the actor I do not
deny. But if he is an actor he will pick these things up for himself
easily enough under existing circumstances. A high development of the
faculty for simulation necessarily implies a corresponding development
in the faculty of observation. The actor sees, notes, and reproduces.
That is to say, he simulates. Moreover, being an artist, he only
reproduces just so much as is necessary. He need not study anatomy, and
walk a hospital, in order to indicate with a few graphic gestures the
cripple's limp. Equally he need not be a superb swordsman in order to
get through an effective stage combat. It is not absolutely essential
that he should be elevated to the peerage before being permitted to play
a duke. People talk about fencing, dancing, and elocution, as if actors
had nothing to do but fence, dance, and spout. An actor has to simulate
everything, from "shouts off" to a crowned king in the centre of the
stage. As in all probability neither the unseen but angry shouters, nor
the king, knew anything whatever of the acquirements alluded to, why
should the actor bother about them? They do not help in the least. If he
is an actor he can act. If he is not he can't. In the old days when an
actor had to go before the curtain between the weary acts of an
interminable tragedy and engage in a broadsword combat or dance a
hornpipe, I can understand the necessity for his having to be a
swordsman and a dancer. But I do not see the use of those
accomplishments now. In these days a man need not, like Mr. Gilbert's
"Jester," always climb an oak to say "I'm up a tree." In these days we
prefer the actor who thinks to the actor who dances. The institution of
an Academy of Acting would do one thing, and one thing only. It would
deluge an already overcrowded profession with a flood of mediocre
automatons.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Addison Bright says it depends upon the style of acting which
is required.]
Whether or no a Dramatic Academy be needed appears to me to depend on
the kind of acting required. Do you affect the French school? Is your
aching void filled by the exquisite elaboration, the delicacy, the
half-tones, the subdued light and grey shadow, in which the French
delight?--then, obviously, it were best to adopt the Conservatoire
system, which hitherto has ensured these things being done better in
France. "The proof of the pudding," and what better proof of the value
of a Dramatic Academy could be forthcoming than the brilliant work of
Coquelin, Febvre, Maubant, Delaunay, Got, Worms, Laroche, Blanche
Barretta, Emilie Broisat, Madeleine Brohan? Here is a group of clever
men and women. There is not a genius among them. The Bernhardts,
Croizettes, Jane Hadings, and Mounet-Sullys, I purposely omit, as
possibly unaffected by the argument. But of this band of "merely
talented," there is not one but has by some means or other--and, in the
first place, presumably, the method by which they were grounded in their
art--become an artist, matured, solid, unapproachable. If, therefore,
this be what you want, surely the Conservatoire system is the shortest
cut to it. It is likely, however, that you, being English, want nothing
of the kind. Kickshaws and daintiness are your aversion. The histrionic
Roast Beef of Old England is your craving. You do not ask an actor to
merge or transform himself into the character he assumes, but simply to
employ the author as a medium for the display of his own more or less
striking individuality. In this case, schooling of any kind would, of
course, be fatal. Teaching would only interfere with the development of
that most precious possession, his personality. There is, indeed, only
one way to help the actor of this class--a class numerous and highly
popular in England and America--and that is by pointing out his faults.
This, at first sight, seems a simple matter. His faults are generally
multitudinous and glaring. But woe to the man who points the finger at
them. He is merely qualifying for a species of martyrdom. The libel
laws, reinforcing the instinct of self-preservation, forbid the critics
doing it, and anybody else who tries is instantly regarded as a
malignant private enemy of the criticised. Yet something in this
direction ought to be done, for even actors recruited from the
'Varsities will murder the language, debase the currency of manners,
mumble unchecked of "libery," and "Febuery," and "seckertery," and in
many other barbarous ways betray the vulgarising influence of culture.
Only one or two courses seem open to mitigate this evil--to end the
harmful conspiracy of silence which fosters it. The establishment of
such an academy as Miss Brough, Mr. Tree, and Mr. Alexander favour, if
practicable (but where are the sufficiently eminent teachers to inspire
confidence?) might do much; but better still would be an institution
where not teaching, but criticism, real never-nowadays-practised
criticism, was the object in view. And I think the best kind of
institution for the simultaneous correction of faults and encouragement
of promising talent would be a stock company, run at some big provincial
theatre by a syndicate of London managers, who might there produce their
London successes, turn and turn about, all the year round, and thus be
brought into personal contact with the younger actors (who should be
bound to them for a term of apprenticeship) impelled in their own
interests to impart advice and admonition, and kept on the alert to
discover genuine talent, and to snap it up when they saw it for their
London houses.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: J. T. Grein goes into figures.]
I have expressed my opinion on a Dramatic Academy in the _Daily
Chronicle_ some time ago, and have been promptly abused for it.
Consequently, I am most firmly convinced that the reasons which I
brought forward are sound. Nowadays, abuse is the highest form of
approbation. There are just two little points on which I wish to touch
just now, not in defence, but to explain. I mean that famous L50,000. It
has been repeated that I want L50,000. I want them very much indeed,
privately, but for the academy--_c'est autre chose_. All that I really
want is that someone (the inevitable "someone," who plays such a
star-part in our theatrical world) should lend a sum of L50,000 for five
years, which should be placed in a bank under trustees, and the
usufruct of which should serve to maintain the establishment during its
period of dentition, if I may call it so. After five years the capital
would return to its owner, who would be none the poorer, while art would
have been a great deal the richer for it. It is also insinuated that,
because I opined that _one_ man--not an actor--should stand at the head
of affairs, I had clearly indicated who should be that man. I--of
course! Such accusations of self-nepotism are a sign of the times. No
one can speak disinterestedly about a subject now; we all must have a
motive. We are all mercenary, we are automatic advertising machines of
our own selves, we are always insincere. Charming! But for my own part,
I wish to state it very plainly that I never have thought, or could
think, of putting my own candidature forward if ever the academy should
become a fact. I have no desire to fill such a post, an Englishman born
should do it: it is a national affair. One thing should not deter us
from advocating the academy. I refer to the failure of the former
school. All I know about it is from hearsay, but it must have been a
most miserable business, and if half the tales which are in circulation
about the management are true, it was fit for anything except education.
The radical and principal fault of the old school was that it had too
many heads and not one competent ruler. Big names alone will not
accomplish the work, and large committees are the most troublesome spoke
in the wheel-work of any machinery. The former draw the money and the
latter spend it. When the funds had dried up the whole thing collapsed.
And what had it done? Nothing, absolutely nothing of any importance,
nothing which could not have been done better and cheaper. Let this
precedent be a warning. Let us have patrons by all means, a legion of
titles and lions, for they may prompt munificence. But let the reins be
in competent hands: one director and three guardians (selected from the
patrons), who should keep a watchful eye on the management of the
school. As for the _raison d'etre_, the working, the subject of a
national Dramatic Academy, I have no more to say at this juncture. My
plan will be found summed up by Miss Brough. I hold that it is
practical.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Jerome wishes to educate the Playgoer.]
I think the establishment of a Dramatic Academy would be of immense
benefit to the stage. Whether such an institution would be of
practicable service in teaching actors and actresses the rudiments of
their art--whether it is advisable that they should be taught--whether
it is possible to teach them--are debatable questions that I will not
here enter upon. But such an institution would achieve a much more
important and lasting result. It would educate the British Playgoer. At
present this individual is most lamentably ignorant concerning all
things connected with the theatre. He understands neither drama nor
acting. To him the play is not an art, but an entertainment. He does not
yet know enough about the matter to dissociate the player from the
part. He speaks not of _Hamlet_ as portrayed by Mr. H. Irving, but of
Mr. Irving as _Hamlet_, which sounds the same thing, but isn't. The
following conversation is not invented, but recollected. I heard it in
an omnibus. Said the lady next to me to the lady opposite: "How did you
like Hare?" "Oh, not at all," replied the other, "I thought him a horrid
man--so nasty to his mother." "Oh, yes," said the first speaker, "you
saw him in _Robin Goodfellow_, didn't you? Oh, it isn't fair to judge
him by that. You go and see him in _The Spectacles_. He's a _dear_ old
gentleman." No doubt the second lady will take the next opportunity of
seeing Mr. Hare in _The Spectacles_, and will be delighted to notice how
greatly he has improved. That this is the general attitude taken up by
the public towards its stage servants is proved by the fact that no
favourite actor can play an unsympathetic part with impunity. To "name"
would be dangerous, but reflect for a moment upon the many plays--good
plays--that have failed in recent years simply because the beloved
actor-manager has been cast for the part of an objectionable person.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Thinks it can be done.]
In the interests of playwriters and play-actors, I wish to see the
playgoer--our dramatic lawgiver--be educated; and I think this might be
done by means of a "Royal Dramatic Academy." Our Royal Academy of Art
has been the means of bringing into existence an artistic public, which,
if small, is at all events growing and enthusiastic; and a man can paint
a picture with the certainty that some, at all events, of the people who
come to look at it will be capable of comprehending his meaning. Without
our Royal Academy of Music it is probable that _Ta-ra-boom-de-ay_ would
represent the high-water mark of our national taste. With the advent of
a "Royal Dramatic Academy" (the "Royal" printed fairly large) people
would begin to grasp the idea that acting was an art. A public would
grow up able to appreciate a play as a play, and not merely as a
digester or a pick-me-up; playwriting would not be the lottery it is;
and the actor, no longer a mere public pet, would receive more dignified
recognition as an artist. In France, in Germany, in Austria, in Holland,
there are dramatic schools, and acting is regarded as an art. In
England, keeping a theatre is supposed to be on all fours with keeping a
shop. I should be sorry to add to the dustheap of rubbishy talk about
Art, but thought and emotion, though it is legitimate to live by them,
are not on all fours with other merchandise. An artist has a right to
sell what he may possess of them, but he has no right to adulterate them
to suit the taste of his customers. Something is needed to come between
the drama and the entertainment-seeking public--something that shall, on
the one hand, foster a purer taste, and, on the other, support and
encourage a higher aim. I think a Dramatic Academy might accomplish
this. If not, I know of nothing that would.