PAINT AND CANVAS.
Vasari, the historian of painters, has much to say in praise of the
"perspective views" or scenes executed by Baldassare Peruzzi, an
artist and architect of great fame in his day, who was born in 1480 at
Florence, or Volterra, or Siena, it is not known which, each of these
noble cities of Tuscany having claimed to be his birthplace. When the
Roman people held high festival in honour of Giuliano de Medici, they
obtained various works of art from Baldassare, including a scene
painted for a theatre, so admirably ingenious and beautiful, that very
great amazement is said to have been awakened in every beholder. At a
later period, when the "Calandra," written by the Cardinal di
Bibiena--"one of the first comedies seen or recited in the vulgar
tongue"--was performed before Pope Leo, the aid of Baldassare was
sought again, to prepare the scenic adornments of the representation.
His labours were successful beyond measure; two of his scenes, painted
upon this or upon some other occasion, Vasari pronounced to be
"surprisingly beautiful, opening the way to those of a similar kind
which have been made in our own day." The artist was a fine colourist,
well skilled in perspective, and in the management of light, insomuch
that his drawings did not look "like things feigned, but rather as the
living reality." Vasari relates that he conducted Titian to see
certain works of Peruzzi, of which the illusion was most complete. The
greater artist "could by no means be persuaded that they were simply
painted, and remained in astonishment, when, on changing his point of
view, he perceived that they were so." Dying in 1536, Baldassare was
buried in the Rotondo, near the tomb of Raffaelo da Urbino, all the
painters, sculptors, and architects of Rome attending the interment.
That he was an artist of the first rank was agreed on all hands. And
he is further entitled to be remembered as one of the very earliest of
great scene-painters.
In England, some six-and-thirty years later, there was born an artist
and architect of even greater fame than Peruzzi: Inigo Jones, who,
like Peruzzi, rendered important aid to the adornment of the stage. In
his youth Inigo had studied landscape-painting in Italy. At Rome he
became an architect; as Walpole expresses it, "he dropped the pencil
and conceived Whitehall."
Meanwhile a taste, even a sort of passion, had arisen at the English
court for masques and pageants of extraordinary magnificence. Poetry,
painting, music, and architecture were combined in their production.
Ben Jonson was the laureate; Inigo Jones the inventor and designer of
the scenic decorations; Laniere, Lawes, and Ferabosco contributed the
musical embellishments; the king, the queen, and the young nobility
danced in the interludes. On these entertainments £3000 to £5000 were
often expended, and on more public occasions £10,000 and even £20,000.
"It seems," says Isaac Disraeli, "that as no masque writer equalled
Jonson, so no 'machinist' rivalled Inigo Jones." For the great
architect was wont to busy himself in devising mechanical changes of
scenery, such as distinguishes modern pantomime. Jonson, describing
his "Masque of Blackness," performed before the court at Whitehall, on
Twelfth Night, 1605, says: "For the scene was drawn a landscape,
consisting of small woods, and here and there a void place, filled
with hangings; which falling, an artificial sea was seen to shoot
forth, as if it flowed to the land, raised with waves, which seemed to
move, and in some places the billows to break, as imitating that
orderly disorder which is common in nature." Then follows a long
account of the appearance, attire, and "sprightly movements of the
masquers:" Oceanus, Oceaniæ, Niger and his daughters, with Tritons,
mermaids, mermen, and sea-horses, "as big as the life." "These thus
presented," he continues, "the scene behind seemed a vast sea, and
united with this that flowed forth, from the termination or horizon of
which (being the head of the stage, which was placed in the upper end
of the hall) was drawn by the lines of perspective, the whole work
shooting downwards from the eye, which decorum made it more
conspicuous, and caught the eye afar off with a wondering beauty, to
which was added an obscure and cloudy night piece, that made the whole
set off. So much for the bodily part, which was of Master Inigo
Jones's design and art." Indeed, Inigo was not simply the
scene-painter; he also devised the costumes, and contrived the
necessary machinery. In regard to many of these entertainments, he was
responsible for "the invention, ornaments, scenes, and apparitions,
with their descriptions;" for everything, in fact, but the music or
the words to be spoken or sung.
These masques and court pageants gradually brought movable scenery
upon the stage, in place of the tapestries, "arras cloths,"
"traverses," or curtains drawn upon rods, which had previously
furnished the theatre. Still the masques were to be distinguished from
the ordinary entertainments of the public playhouses. The court
performances knew little of regular plot or story; ordinarily avoided
all reference to nature and real life; and were remarkable for the
luxurious fancifulness and costly eccentricity they displayed. They
were provided by the best writers of the time, and in many cases were
rich in poetic merit. Still they were expressly designed to afford
valuable opportunities to the musical composer, to the ballet-dancers,
mummers, posture-makers, and costumiers. The regular dramas, such as
the Elizabethan public supported, could boast few attractions of this
kind. It was altogether without movable scenery, although possessed of
a balcony or upper stage, used to represent, now the walls of a city,
as in "King John," now the top of a tower, as in "Henry VI.", or
"Antony and Cleopatra," and now the window to an upper chamber. Mr.
Payne Collier notes that in one of the oldest historical plays extant,
"Selimus, Emperor of the Turks," published in 1594, there is a
remarkable stage direction demonstrating the complete absence of
scenery, by the appeal made to the simple good faith of the audience.
The hero is represented conveying the body of his father in a solemn
funeral procession to the Temple of Mahomet. The stage direction runs:
"Suppose the Temple of Mahomet"--a needless injunction, as Mr. Collier
remarks, if there had existed the means of exhibiting the edifice in
question to the eyes of the spectators. But the demands upon the
audience to abet the work of theatrical illusion, and with their
thoughts to piece out the imperfections of the dramatists, are
frequently to be met with in the old plays. Of the poverty of the
early stage, in the matter of scenic decorations, there is abundant
evidence. Fleckno, in his "Short Discourse of the Stage," 1664, by
which time movable scenery had been introduced, writes: "Now for the
difference between our theatres and those of former times; they were
but plain and simple, with no other scenes nor decorations of the
stages but only old tapestry, and the stage strewed with rushes."
The simple expedient of writing up the names of the different places,
where the scene was laid in the progress of a play, or affixing a
placard to that effect upon the tapestry at the back of the stage,
sufficed to convey to the spectators the intentions of the author.
"What child is there," asks Sir Philip Sidney, "that, coming to a play
and seeing Thebes written in great letters on an old door, doth
believe that it is Thebes?" Oftentimes, too, opportunity was found in
the play itself, or in its prologue, to inform the audience of the
place in which the action of the story is supposed to be laid. "Our
scene is Rhodes," says old Hieronymo in Kyd's "Spanish Tragedy," 1588.
And the title of the play was also exhibited in the same way, so that
the audience did not lack instruction as to the purport of the
entertainment set before them.
The introduction of movable scenes upon the stage has been usually
attributed to Sir William Davenant, who, in 1658, evading the
ordinance of 1647, by which the theatres were peremptorily closed,
produced, at the Cockpit in Drury Lane, an entertainment rather than a
play, entitled "The Cruelty of the Spaniards in Peru, expressed by
vocal and instrumental music, and by art of perspective in scenes:" an
exhibition which Cromwell is generally supposed to have permitted,
more from his hatred of the Spaniards than by reason of his tolerance
of dramatic performances. The author of "Historia Histrionica," a
tract written in 1699, also expressly states that "after the
Restoration, the king's players acted publicly at the Red Bull for
some time, and then removed to a new-built playhouse in Vere Street,
by Clare Market; there they continued for a year or two, and then
removed to the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane, where they first made use
of scenes, which had been a little before introduced upon the public
stage by Sir William Davenant." It is to be observed, however, that
inasmuch as the masques, such as the court of Charles I. had so
favoured, were sometimes produced at the public theatres, and could
hardly have been presented there, shorn of the mechanical appliances
and changes which constituted a main portion of their attractiveness,
movable scenery, or stage artifices that might fairly be so described,
could not be entirely new to a large portion of the public. Thus the
masque of "Love's Mistress, or the Queen's Masque," by Thomas Heywood,
1640, was "three times presented before their Majesties at the Phoenix
in Drury Lane;" Heywood expressly acknowledging his obligation to
Inigo Jones, who "changed the stage to every act, and almost to every
scene."
It must not be supposed, however, that the introduction of scenery was
hailed unanimously as a vast improvement upon the former condition of
the stage. There was, no doubt, abundance of applause; a sufficient
number of spectators were well pleased to find that now their eyes
were to be addressed not less than their ears and their minds, and
were satisfied that exhibitions of the theatre would be presently much
more intelligible to them than had hitherto been the case. Still the
sages shook their heads, distrusting the change, and prophesying evil
of it. Even Mr. Payne Collier has been moved by his conservative
regard for the Elizabethan stage and the early drama to date from the
introduction of scenery the beginning of the decline of our dramatic
poetry. He holds it a fortunate circumstance for the poetry of our old
plays, that "painted movable scenery" had not then been introduced.
"The imagination only of the auditor was appealed to, and we owe to
the absence of painted canvas many of the finest descriptive passages
in Shakespeare, his contemporaries, and immediate followers." Further,
he states his opinion that our old dramatists "luxuriated in passages
descriptive of natural or artificial scenery, because they knew their
auditors would have nothing before their eyes to contradict the
poetry; the hangings of the stage made little pretensions to anything
but coverings for the walls, and the notion of the place represented
was taken from what was said by the poet, and not from what was
attempted by the painter."
It need hardly be stated that the absence of scenes and scene-shifting
had by no means confined the British drama to a classical form,
although regard for "unity of place," at any rate, might seem to be
almost logically involved in the immovable condition of the
stage-fittings. Some two or three plays, affecting to follow the
construction adopted by the Greek and Roman stage, are certainly to be
found in the Elizabethan repertory, but they had been little favoured
by the playgoers of the time, and may fairly be viewed as exceptions
proving the rule that our drama is essentially romantic. Indeed, our
old dramatists were induced by the absence of scenery to rely more and
more upon the imagination of their audience. As Mr. Collier observes:
"If the old poets had been obliged to confine themselves merely to the
changes that could at that early date have been exhibited by the
removal of painted canvas or boarding, we should have lost much of
that boundless diversity of situation and character allowed by this
happy absence of restraint." At the same time, the liberty these
writers permitted themselves did not escape criticism from the devout
adherents of the classical theatre. Sir Philip Sidney, in his "Apology
for Poetry," 1595, is severe upon the "defectious" nature of the
English drama, especially as to its disregard of the unities of time
and place. "Now," he says, three ladies "walk to gather flowers, and
then we must believe the stage to be a garden; by-and-by we hear news
of shipwreck in the same place, and then we are to blame if we accept
it not for a rock; upon the back of that comes out a hideous monster,
and then the miserable beholders are bound to take it for a cave;
while in the meantime two armies fly in, represented with four swords
and bucklers, and then, what hard heart will not receive it for a
pitched field?" Dryden, it may be noted, in his "Essay of Dramatic
Poesie," has a kindred passage as to the matters to be acted on the
stage, and the things "supposed to be done behind the scenes."
Of the scenery of his time, Mr. Pepys makes frequent mention, without,
however, entering much into particulars on the subject. In August,
1661, he notes the reproduction of Davenant's comedy of "The Wits,"
"never acted yet with scenes;" adding, "and, indeed, it is a most
excellent play and admirable scenes." A little later he records a
performance of "'Hamlet, Prince of Denmark,' done with scenes very
well, but, above all, Betterton did the prince's part beyond
imagination." It is satisfactory to find that in this case, at any
rate, the actor held his ground against the scene-painter. Under
another date, he refers to a representation of "The Faithful
Shepherdess" of Fletcher, "a most simple thing, and yet much thronged
after and often shown; but it is only for the scene's sake, which is
very fine." A few years later he describes a visit "to the King's
Playhouse all in dirt, they being altering of the stage, to make it
wider. But my business," he proceeds, "was to see the inside of the
stage, and all the 'tiring-rooms and machines; and, indeed, it was a
sight worth seeing. But to see their clothes, and the various sorts,
and what a mixture of things there was--here a wooden leg, there a
ruff, here a hobby-horse, there a crown, would make a man split
himself to see with laughing; and particularly Lacy's wardrobe and
Shotrell's. But then, again, to think how fine they show on the stage
by candlelight, and how poor things they are to look at too near at
hand, is not pleasant at all. The machines are fine, and," he
concludes, "the paintings very pretty." In October, 1667, he records
that he sat in the boxes for the first time in his life, and
discovered that from that point of view "the scenes do appear very
fine indeed, and much better than in the pit."
The names of the artists whose works won Mr. Pepys's applause have not
come down to us. Of Robert Streeter, sergeant-painter to King Charles
II., there is frequent mention made in the "Diary" of Evelyn, who
highly lauds the artist's "very glorious scenes and perspectives,"
which adorned Dryden's play of "The Conquest of Granada," on its
representation at Whitehall. Evelyn, not caring much for such
entertainments, seems, nevertheless, to have frequently attended the
plays and masques of the Court. In February, 1664, he saw acted "The
Indian Queen" of Sir Robert Howard and Dryden--"a tragedy well
written, so beautiful with rich scenes as the like had never been seen
here, or haply (except rarely) elsewhere on a mercenary theatre." At a
later date, one Robert Aggas, a painter of some fame, is known to have
executed scenes for the theatre in Dorset Garden. Among other
scene-painters of distinction, pertaining to a comparatively early
period of the art, may be noted Nicholas Thomas Dall, a Danish
landscape-painter, who established himself in London in 1760, was long
occupied as scene-painter at Covent Garden Theatre, and became an
Associate of the Royal Academy in 1771; Hogarth, who is reported to
have painted a camp scene for the private theatre of Dr. Hoadley, Dean
of Winchester; John Richards, a member of the Royal Academy, who,
during many years, painted scenes for Covent Garden; Michael Angelo
Rooker, pupil of Paul Sandby, and one of the first Associates of the
Academy, who was scene-painter at the Haymarket; Novosielsky, the
architect of the Opera House, Haymarket, who also supplied that
establishment with many notable scenes, and, to pass over many minor
names, De Loutherbourg, Garrick's scene-painter, and one of the most
renowned artists of his period.
It will be remembered that Mr. Puff, in "The Critic," giving a
specimen of "the puff direct" in regard to a new play, says: "As to
the scenery, the miraculous powers of Mr. De Loutherbourg are
universally acknowledged. In short, we are at a loss which to admire
most, the unrivalled genius of the author, the great attention and
liberality of the managers, the wonderful abilities of the painter, or
the incredible exertions of all the performers." Shortly after his
arrival in England, about 1770, De Loutherbourg became a contributor
to the exhibition of the Royal Academy. In 1780 he was elected an
Associate; in the following year he obtained the full honours of
academicianship. His easel-pictures were for the most part landscapes,
effective and forcible after an unconventional fashion, and wholly at
variance with the "classically-composed" landscapes then in vogue.
Turner, when, in 1808, he was appointed Professor of Perspective to
the Royal Academy, is said to have taken up his abode at Hammersmith,
in order that he might be near De Loutherbourg, for whose works he
professed cordial admiration. The old scene-painter's bold and strong
effects, his daring treatment of light and shade, his system of
colour, bright even to gaudiness, probably arrested the attention of
the younger artist, and were to him exciting influences. Upon De
Loutherbourg's landscapes, however, little store is now placed; but as
a scene-painter he deserves to be remembered for the ingenious reforms
he introduced. He found the scene a mere "flat" of strained canvas
extending over the whole stage. He was the first to use "set scenes"
and "raking pieces." He also invented transparent scenes with
representations of moonlight, sunshine, firelight, volcanoes, &c., and
obtained new effects of colour by means of silken screens of various
hues placed before the foot and side lights. He discovered, too, that
ingenious effects might be obtained by suspending gauzes between the
scene and the spectators. These are now, of course, but commonplace
contrivances; they were, however, distinctly the inventions of De
Loutherbourg, and were calculated to impress the playgoers of his time
very signally. To Garrick De Loutherbourg rendered very important
assistance, for Garrick was much inclined for scenic decorations of a
showy character, although as a rule he restricted these embellishments
to the after-pieces, and for the more legitimate entertainments of his
stage was content to employ old and stock scenery that had been of
service in innumerable plays. Tate Wilkinson, writing in 1790, refers
to a scene then in use which he remembered so far back as the year
1747. "It has wings and a flat of Spanish figures at full length, and
two folding-doors in the middle. I never see those wings slide on, but
I feel as if seeing my old acquaintance unexpectedly."
Of later scene-painters, such as Roberts and Stanfield, Grieve and
Telbin, and to come down to the present time, Beverley and Calcott,
Hawes Craven and O'Connor, there seems little occasion to speak; the
achievements of these artists are matters of almost universal
knowledge. It is sufficient to say that in their hands the art they
practise has been greatly advanced, even to the eclipse now and then
of the efforts of both actors and dramatists.
Some few notes, however, may be worth making in relation to the
technical methods adopted by the scene-painter. In the first place, he
relies upon the help of the carpenter to stretch a canvas tightly over
a frame, or to nail a wing into shape; and subsequently it is the
carpenter's duty, with a small sharp saw, to cut the edge of irregular
wings, such as representations of foliage or rocks, an operation known
behind the curtain as "marking the profile." The painter's studio is
usually high up above the rear of the stage--a spacious room, well
lighted by means of skylights or a lantern in the roof. The canvas,
which is of course of vast dimensions, can be raised to the ceiling,
or lowered through the floor, to suit the convenience of the artist,
by means of machinery of ingenious construction. The painter has
invariably made a preliminary water-colour sketch of his scene, on
paper or cardboard. Oftentimes, with the help of a miniature stage,
such as schoolboys delight in, he is enabled to form a fair estimate
of the effect that may be expected of his design. The expansive canvas
has been sized over, and an outline of the picture to be painted--a
landscape, or an interior, as the case may be--has been boldly marked
out by the artist. Then the assistants and pupils ply their brushes,
and wash in the broad masses of colour, floods of light, and clouds of
darkness. The dimensions of the canvas permit of many hands being
employed upon it, and the work proceeds therefore with great rapidity.
But the scene-painter is constant in his supervision of his
subordinates, and when their labours are terminated, he completes the
design with numberless improving touches and masterly strokes. Of
necessity, much of the work is of a mechanical kind; scroll-work,
patterned walls, or cornices are accomplished by "stencilling" or
"pouncing"--that is to say, the design is pricked upon a paper, which,
being pressed upon the canvas, and smeared or dabbed with charcoal,
leaves a faint trace of the desired outline. The straight lines in an
architectural scene are traced by means of a cord, which is rubbed
with colour in powder, and, having been drawn tight, is allowed to
strike smartly against the canvas, and deposit a distinct mark upon
its surface. Duty of this kind is readily accomplished by a boy, or a
labourer of little skill. Scenes of a pantomime order, in which
glitter is required, are dabbed here and there by the artist with thin
glue; upon these moist places, Dutch metal--gold or silver leaf--is
then fixed, with a result that large audiences have never failed to
find resplendent and beautiful. These are some, but, of course, a few
only, of the methods and mysteries of the scene-painter's art.