THE OLD SPIRIT—THE NEW THEATER
It is hard to escape the belief that this ferment in the theater means
something. Something for life and from life; something for art and from
art. Something immensely important to the sense of godhead in man which
is life and art together, life and art fecundating one another.
It seems peculiarly clear that the new forces in the theater have
been working towards a spiritual change far more novel, far more
interesting, and naturally far more important than any of the technical
changes which they have brought about.
The technical changes have been confusing. First this business of
scenic designers and revolving stages and all manner of show and
mechanism; and now the “naked stage,” abdication of the artist,
scrapping of the machines, the actor alone, on a podium or in a circus
ring. All in the name of drama.
There is only one explanation. These changes have come as part of an
attempt to restore the theater to its old functions. They are two very
extraordinary functions. One may be debauched into titillation, or may
rise to that fulness of vitality, that excitation, upon which the
second function of the theater is based, the function of exaltation.
Between the older theater, in which these functions worked as potently
as they worked seldom, and the theater in which they may work again,
lay the theater of Realism. It was a product of a tremendous force,
a force for evil as well as good—the force of nineteenth century
science. Science made the theater realistic and Realism made the drama
scientific. It ceased to be a show. It became a photograph. The drama
was made “truer,” but only in the sense that a photograph may be truer
to fact than a drawing by Picasso. It achieved resemblance to life. And
then it ceased to have excitement or exaltation, because excitement,
in the vivid sense in which I use it here, is most uncommon in modern
life, and because exaltation is a rare and hidden thing showing seldom
in outward relations. Both are too exceptional for Realism.
The restoration of excitement to the theater may appear to degrade it
from the exact and austere report of life which Realism demands. But
the thrill of movement and event is the element in the theater which
lifts our spirits to the point where exaltation is possible. The power
of the theater lies in just this ability to raise us to ecstasy through
the love of vitality which is the commonest sign of divinity in life.
And when the theater gives us ecstasy, what becomes of science? And who
cares?
The new forces in the theater have struggled more or less blindly
toward this end. They have tried beauty, richness, novelty, to win
back excitement. They have only just begun to see that the liveliest
excitation in the playhouse may come from the art of the actor and the
art of the _régisseur_ when they are stripped to the task of providing
exaltation. Present the actor as an actor, and the background as an
honest, material background, and you are ready for what glories the
playwright and the peculiar genius of the theater can provide. The
drama is free again for its eternal task—the showing of the soul of
life.
Just how much this may mean is perhaps the test of your belief in the
theater. It is the conviction of some of us that there has resided in
the theater—and our hope that there may reside once more—something akin
to the religious spirit. A definition of this spirit is difficult.
It is certainly not religion. It goes behind religion. It is the
exaltation of which formal creeds are a product. It is the vitality
which informs life, and begets art. Out of the intensity of spiritual
feeling which rises from the eternal processes of the universe and in
turn becomes conscious of them, the thing is born which made Greek
tragedy noble and which called drama back to life in the Middle Ages.
Then it was the spirit of religion. To-day we might call it the spirit
of life.
Both consciously and unconsciously men of the theater have sought to
win back this exaltation. The latest attempt is in some ways the most
daring and the most interesting. Max Reinhardt, leaving the playhouse,
has tried to find it in a wedding of the drama and the church. Before
this book is published, Reinhardt will have produced Calderon’s
mystic drama, _The Theater of the World_, under the high altar of the
Collegienkirche in Salzburg. It is impossible now to speak of how far
he has been able to effect an esthetic union between the handsome
rococo edifice and the platform for his players; it is only possible to
speculate on the spiritual feeling which spectators may gain through
looking up at the actors from a flat floor, instead of looking down
upon them. I cannot speak of the actual presence of exaltation in the
audience, but we can speculate together on the possibilities of winning
back spiritual vitality for the drama by union with the church.
First of all, there comes the disquieting thought that the theater
presents the spectacle these days of a bird that lays eggs in another
bird’s nest. It isn’t content with the one it has used for some
centuries. It must go snooping about looking for a new haven for the
drama. It tries the circus. It tries the ballroom. It shows us the
Grosses Schauspielhaus and the Redoutensaal. It even seems to have
got a notion of laying its eggs on the fourth wall. As this was the
only thing that wasn’t thoroughly real in the realistic theater, the
result—the motion picture—is a bit of a scramble. And now the cuckoo
theater has its eye on the church.
A truer charge might be that the human animal has a perverse liking
for novelty; but even that could be countered with the assertion that
out of the stimulation of novelty, as out of almost any stimulation,
man can make art—if he has it in him. As to that strange bird, the
theater, it has never had good home-keeping habits. It laid its eggs
on Greek altars, and in the mangers of Christian chapels. It nested
in the inn yard in England, and the tennis court in France. The fact
that the theater has a habit of roaming is worth about as much in this
discussion of its chance in the modern church as the fact that it
once found ecstasy by the Greek altar and produced little approaching
dramatic literature while it was in the Christian church.
Jacques Copeau complains that the drama has no home to-day, and asserts
that between the only choices open to it—the church and the street—he
much prefers the street. The church doesn’t want the drama; its creed
doesn’t want the drama; its spirit repels the drama. In this relation
of the church and the theater there seems to be a problem for Europe
and a problem for America. The possibility of the two uniting appears
much greater in Europe. Europe—particularly central and southern
Europe, where Catholicism flourishes—holds far more of genuine
religious spirit than does America. Moreover, the church there has the
strength of tradition and of art behind it. The esthetic-emotional grip
of the churches themselves, their architecture, their atmosphere,
the sense of continuity that lives in them, holds men and women whose
minds have rejected or ignored the authority of dogma. Even an American
cut off from the traditional side of this life would feel a thrill
in a drama in the Collegienkirche in Salzburg or in the Cathedral of
Chartres that no performance in a theater could give him. The beauty
of the ages would bless the drama in almost any European building
except a theater. But come to America, and try to imagine _Everyman_
in Trinity Church at the head of Wall street, or _The Theater of the
World_ in the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, not to bring it down
to the level of a Methodist meeting house. The theater can always
make religion more dramatic; witness the experiments of the Reverend
William Norman Guthrie and Claude Bragdon with lighting and dance in
St. Mark’s-in-the-Bouwerie. But I do not think that any American church
short of some Spanish-Indian mission in the Southwest can make the
drama more religious.
For America—and, I suspect, for Europe, too—the problem is to find a
way to the religious spirit independent of the church. It is not a
question of producing plays in cathedrals, but of producing the spirit
of life in plays. It is not: Can religion make itself theatrical? But:
Can the theater make itself—in a new sense—religious?
If modern life, particularly the life of America, were spiritual in
any degree, all this would be simple. Church and theater would both
minister—as neither of them does now—to the life of the spirit. America
has no art and no religion which can make drama religious. America does
not believe, in any deep sense. Science has shattered dogma, and formal
religion has not been able to absorb an artistic or a philosophic
spirit great enough to recreate the religious spirit in men.
The thing is still more difficult because there is nowhere in this
country—unless, again, it is in the Southwest—a sense of the age-long
processes of life, which are part of the soil and which leave their
mark on men and women through the physical things that have always
cradled them. In Europe even the cities hold this ancient and natural
aspect; they are shaped by man and time, even as the fields and the
hills are shaped by time and man. These cities bask, and lie easy.
There is a sense of long, slow growth in the very stones. In America,
it is not only that our cities are new and brash. Our countryside is
the same. Even our farmhouses stick out of the land like square boxes.
As simple a house in Europe has a breadth that reconciles it with the
sweep of the fields. The American farmhouse is symbol of our separation
from the soil. We are out of touch with the earthy vitality of life
which might bring us at least a little sense of the eternal.
If the man of the theater gives up the American church as a path to the
spirit of life, and if he finds no religion in modernity from which to
bring religion to the stage, what can he do? Is it possible that he can
create the spiritual in the people by creating it in the theater? Can
he see the vision himself; and, if he sees it and embodies it, can it
make over the people?
Clive Bell, writing in _Art_, has described how such artists as
William Blake and a very few others have reached the spiritual reality
of existence—the thing we should call religion—directly, by pure
intuition: “Some artists seem to have come at it by sheer force of
imagination, unaided by anything without them; they have needed no
material ladder to help them out of matter. They have spoken with
reality as mind to mind.”
Vision of this sort is so inordinately rare, that it seems as though
some other way must be found to open spiritual truth to the artist of
the theater. The only other way is through the deepest understanding
of life itself. What can the artist find in American life to bring
the vision? Nothing, surely, on the surface. Our architects have
reached a more noteworthy expression than perhaps any of our painters,
because they have somehow managed to identify themselves with a spirit
of affirmation behind those industrial forms that our commercial
imperialism presents to view in our men of position like Morgan and
Ford, our periodicals like _The American Magazine_ and _The Saturday
Evening Post_, our subways and our cigarette ads, our patent medicines
and our Kuppenheimer clothes.
The artist of the theater who is to create ecstasy by finding it,
must see deeper than the architects behind the shams of American life.
He must grasp the Spirit of America in a sense so extraordinary that
the use we ordinarily make of that phrase will seem impossibly and
blasphemously cheap. We have hints of what the artist must see and
understand in Sandburg’s sense of Chicago, in Vachel Lindsay’s sense of
the Middle West, in Waldo Frank’s sense of New Mexico.
When theatrical genius has grasped the truth of America, it must be his
business to make of himself and his theater a magnifying glass for the
rest of his fellows. What he has been able to seize by sheer intuition,
he must put in such form that it can seize all America. It is the hope
of the theater that it can make the vision of one man become the vision
of many.
There is no reason why a man of the theater should not have the vision;
it has come to other artists. They have been able to transfer some
share of it to the sensitive, the developed, the intellectual. The
artist of the theater can perhaps transfer it to millions, to the
uneducated and the dull, as well as to the receptive. In the theater
he has a very extraordinary instrument. It is the art nearest to life;
its material is almost life itself. This physical identity which it
has with our very existence is the thing that can enable the artist to
visualize with amazing intensity a religious spirit of which he has
sensed only the faintest indications in life. He can create a world
which shines with exaltation and which seems—as it indeed is—a world
of reality. He can give the spirit a pervading presence in the theater
which it once had in the life of the Greeks and of the people of the
Middle Ages. And when men and women see eternal spirit in such a form,
who can say that they will not take it to them?
THE END
INDEX
INDEX
In the case of a number of plays listed in this index, the names of
the director and the artist responsible for the particular production
in question are coupled in a parenthesis preceding the numbers of the
pages on which the production is mentioned; a semi-colon separates
references to such special productions from references to the play
alone. In the case of theaters listed, the name of the city in which
each is located appears in parenthesis.
Ars System, 73-76, 116.
André, Harald, opp. 54, 75, 77, 78, 79, opp. 120, 121-122, opp. 122.
Æschylus, 6, 92, 212.
Albert Theater (Dresden), 33.
_Alice Sit-by-the-Fire_, 193.
Allard, Robert, 105, 181.
_American Magazine, The_, 220.
Amphitheater, 46.
Andreyeff, Leonid, 25.
Anglin, Margaret, 98.
_Annonce faite à Marie, L’_, (Dalcroze-Appia), 159.
Appia, Adolphe, 42, 44, 68-69, 70, 107, 138, 159, 195.
Arnold, Victor, 82.
_Art_, 19, 220.
Austrian State Opera House, see Vienna Opera House.
_Awakening of Spring, The_, 28.
_Back to Methuselah_, (Simonson), 73, 76.
Bahr, Hermann, 192.
Bakshy, Alexander, 99, 100, 158.
Bakst, Leon, 44, 48.
Balieff, N. F., 107.
Ballets Russes, 44.
_Barber of Seville, The_, 186, 189-190, opp. 190.
Barnsdall, Aline, 159, 194.
Barrie, Sir J. M., 8.
Barrymore, Lionel, 87.
Barton, Jim, 86.
Bassermann, Albert, 82.
Bataille, Henry, 6.
Beaumarchais, 192.
_Beggar’s Opera, The_, 192.
Belasco, David, 14, 25, 42, 176.
Bell, Clive, 19-20, 220.
Ben-Ami, Jacob, 94.
Berlin State Opera House, opp. 60, 146.
Berlin State Schauspielhaus, 55, 72, 78, 84;
(Acting company), 88-89, 139-140;
(Jessner’s productions there), 130-143;
see illus., _Napoleon_, _Othello_, and _Richard III_.
Berlin Volksbühne, see Volksbühne.
Bernhardt, Sarah, 98, 104.
Bertens, Rosa, 82.
Bibiena, see Galli-Bibiena.
Bing, Suzanne, 180, 204.
Blake, Wm., 220.
_Blätter des Deutschen Theaters_, 162.
_Blaue Vogel, Der_, 83.
Booth, Edwin, 98.
Booth Theater (New York), 193.
Bouquet, Romain, 181.
Bragdon, Claude, 218.
Brahm, Otto, 42, 110.
Brice, Fanny, 102.
Bronnen, Arnold, 29.
Burbage, 92.
_Burghers of Calais_, 137.
Burgtheater (Vienna), 55, 56, 84, 177.
Butler, Samuel, 118.
_Cæsar and Cleopatra_, 193.
Calderon, 117, 188, 216.
_Caliban_ (MacKaye-Ordynski-Urban-Jones), 159, 161.
Cantor, Eddie, 204.
Capek, Karel, 34, 35, 36.
Carroll, Lewis, 58.
_Carrosse du St.-Sacrement, Le_, (Copeau-Jouvet), 104, 179, opp. 180.
Catlett, Walter, 204.
_Cenci, The_, 206.
Cézanne, 6, 38.
_Chauve-Souris_, 83, 107.
Chaplin, Charlie, 86, 99.
Cheney, Sheldon, 175.
_Cherry Orchard, The_, (Stanislavsky), 8-16, opp. 10, 28, 90, 95, 192.
_Chout (le Bouffon)_, (Gontcharova), 124-125.
Church Theater, 170, 216-218.
Circus Schumann (Berlin), 110, 162, 164, 200.
Circus Theater, 110, 157, 162-170, 198-212, 213, 216.
Cirque d’Hiver (Paris), 200.
Cirque Medrano (Paris), viii, 198-212, opp. 206, opp. 208.
Clark, Bobbie, 102.
Claudel, Paul, 159.
_Clavigor_, 117, 188.
Cloud-machine, 75-76, 77.
Collegienkirche (Salzburg), 216, 218.
Color Organ, 76.
Comédie des Champs-Élysées (Paris), 193, see illus., _He Who Gets
Slapped_ and _Uncle Vanya_.
Cooper, Claude, 85, 105.
Copeau, Jacques, viii, 25, 42, 55, 85, 104, 105, 106, 159, 171-183,
opp. 174, opp. 180, 188, 200, 203, 204, 207, 209, 217.
Corneille, 192.
Craig, Gordon, 18, 19, 25, 42, 44, 56, 57, 107, 111, 131, 139, 160,
195.
Craven, Frank, 96, 97-98.
Curio, C., 198.
Cyclorama, 71, 72, 74, 116.
Czech National Theater (Prague), 34.
Dalcroze, Jaques-, 159.
_Dame Cobalt_, 117, 188.
D’Annunzio, Gabriele, 8.
Dante, 159.
_Danton_, (Reinhardt-Stern), 110, 167, 168; 209.
_Das Bist Du_, (Linnebach), 73.
Deutsches Opernhaus (Charlottenburg), 59.
Deutsches Theater (Berlin), 110, 111.
Diegelmann, Wilhelm, 82.
Dietrich, M., 82, 90, 149-150.
_Divine Comedy, The_, 159.
Dome, 70-72, 153.
_Don Giovanni_, 59.
Dooley, Johnny, 204.
Dooley, Ray, 204.
Draper, Ruth, 102.
_Dream Play, The_, 28;
(Reinhardt), 107.
Drehbühne, see Revolving stage.
Dresden Opera House, 60, 73.
Dresden Schauspielhaus, 25, 60-61, 72;
(Acting company), 87-88.
Duchamp, Marcel, 38.
Duncan, Augustin, 85.
Dürer, A., 48.
Duse, Eleanora, 80, 99.
Eames, Clare, 98.
Ebert, Carl, 88.
Edwards, Norman, 194.
Eibenschütz, Camilla, 82.
_Emperor Jones, The_, 209.
_Erdgeist_, 28, 83.
Errol, Leon, 204.
Euripides, 192.
_Evergreen Tree, The_, 159, 161.
_Everyman_, (Lindberg), 112;
(Reinhardt), 162; 218.
Eysoldt, Gertrud, 82.
_Faust_, (Reinhardt-Stern), opp. 108.
Fehling, Jürgen, 119, 144, 148-156, opp. 148, opp. 150, opp. 152,
opp. 154, opp. 156, 196.
_Festspiel_, (Reinhardt), 162.
Fields, Lew, 204.
_First Year, The_, 96.
_Florian Geyer_, 5;
(Stieler-Goldschmidt), 55, 86, 89, 102;
(Reinhardt), 168; 209.
_Follies, The_, 204.
Ford, Henry, 220.
Forestage, 116, 159, 162-163, 168, 169, 173, 174, 175, 176, 181, 191.
Formal stage, 64, 65, 104, 159, 173, 176.
Forrest, Edwin, 98.
Forrest, Marguerite, 85.
Forster, Rudolf, 89.
Fortuny, M., 69, 70.
Fortuny System, 69-70.
_Fourberies de Scapin, Les_, 200, 207.
France, Anatole, 14, 37.
_Francesca da Rimini_, (Duse), 80.
Frank, Waldo, 66, 221.
Frankfort Opera House, 32, opp. 32.
Frankfort Schauspielhaus, 51, 55;
(Acting company), 88-89; 112, opp. 112, opp. 114.
Freie Volksbühne, 110;
see Volksbühne.
_Frères Karamazov, Les_, (Copeau-Jouvet), 25, 66, 103, 104, 173, 174,
opp. 174, 176, 179.
_Frogs, The_, 92.
_From Morn to Midnight_, (Simonson), 78.
Furttenbach, Joseph, 199.
Galli-Bibiena, 120, 126.
Galsworthy, John, 6, 7, 24.
Garrick, David, 23, 92, 100.
Garrick Theater (New York), 173, 180.
_Gas_, (Linnebach), 73.
Geddes, Norman-Bel, 159, 194.
Gémier, Firmin, 159, 200.
_Getting Married_, 193.
Globe Theater (London), 120.
Goethe, 6, 45, 117, 121, 188.
Goldsmith, Oliver, 193.
Gontcharova, Natalia, 124.
Gorky, Maxim, 107, 191.
Gozzi, C., 117, 188.
Grabbe, C. D., 73, 88, 131, 133, 137.
Grasso, Giovanni, 98, 104.
Greek Theater (Berkeley, Cal.), 194.
Grieg, Edward, 54.
Grosses Schauspielhaus (Berlin), vii, 53, 55, 109, 110, 111, 115,
116, 164-170, opp. 164, opp. 168, 176, 177, 182, 189, 200, 204,
209-210, 216.
Grossi and Coquette, 203.
_Grumpy_, 83.
Grünewald, Isaac, 121-123, opp. 120, 122.
Guthrie, Rev. Wm. N., 218.
_Hairy Ape, The_, 5, 21, 29, 38.
_Hamlet_, 24;
(Reinhardt-Stern), 110, 111, 168; 192, 208.
Hartau, Ludwig, 89.
Hasait, Max, 60, 61, 65, 72, 74, 116.
Hasenclever, Walter, 32, 33, 63.
Hauptmann, Gerhart, 5, 86, 162.
_He Who Gets Slapped_, (Pitoëff), opp. 24, 25; 98;
(Simonson), 133.
Hebbel, 168.
Heims, Elsa, 82.
Heinrich, Sebastien, 186, 187.
Heinz, Wolfgang, 89.
Herford, Beatrice, 102.
Herterich, 84.
Hettner, Otto, 65.
Hilar, K. H., 34.
Hindemith, Paul, 32.
Hofmannsthal, Hugo von, 116, 121.
Hoftheater (Munich), see Munich National Theater.
Hopkins, Arthur, 14, 44, 129.
Howard, Eugene, 204.
Howard, Willie, 204.
Hume, Sam, 194.
Ibsen, Henrik, 6, 27, 29, 41.
_Idle Inn, The_, 94.
Ingalls, H. C., 46.
Inner proscenium, 64, 73.
_Insect Comedy, The_, (Hilar-Capek), 34-36.
International Theater Exhibition (Amsterdam and London), ix, x.
Irving, Sir Henry, 121.
Jannings, Emil, 82.
Jansson, Thorolf, 121.
Jaques-Dalcroze, see Dalcroze.
_Jenseits_, (Linnebach), 33, 63, 73.
Jessner, Leopold, vii, 78, 80, 88, 89, 119, opp. 126, opp. 128, opp.
130, opp. 132, opp. 134, 130-143, opp. 136, opp. 138, opp. 140,
opp. 142, opp. 144, opp. 146, 147, 154-155, 175, 196.
_Jest, The_, 208.
Jolson, Al, 101.
Jones, Inigo, 120.
_Josephine_, 192.
Jouvet, Louis, 103, 104, 174, opp. 174, 176, 177, 180, opp. 180, 181,
182, 204.
Joyce, James, 66.
_Judith_, 168-169, opp. 168.
_Julius Cæsar_, (Reinhardt-Stern), 168; 193.
_Kain_, (Roller), 56.
Kaiser, Georg, 7, 32, 78.
_Kaiser Heinrich VI_, (Linnebach), 73.
Kamerny Theater (Moscow), 104.
Kammerspielhaus (Berlin), 46.
Katchaloff, V. I., 11.
Kaufman, Oskar, 45, 46, 146.
Kellerhals, Richard, 86, 87, 102.
Kemble, Chas., 23.
Klein, Cesar, opp. 126.
Knipper, Mme. O. L., 11, 12-13.
Kokoschka, Oskar, 32-33.
Konstantin, Leopoldine, 82.
Kortner, Fritz, 89, 139-141.
Krauss, Werner, 189.
Kraussneck, Arthur, 89.
Krehan, Hermann, 196.
Kummer, Clare, 192.
Künstler Theater (Munich), 46, 85, 193, 203.
_Kuppelhorizont_, see Dome.
Lauder, Harry, 103.
Lautenschläger, Karl, 58.
Ledebur, Leopold von, 89.
Leffler, Heinrich, 55.
Lehman, Elsa, 82.
Leithner, Melitta, 88.
Le Maire, Geo., 204.
Lert, Ernst, 33.
Le Goff, Jean, 180.
Lessing Theater (Berlin), 55.
Lindberg, Per, 111.
Lindsay, Vachel, 221.
Linnebach, Adolf, 33, 60, 63, 64, opp. 64, 65, 71, 72, 73, 74, opp.
76, 78, 116.
Lionel, 203.
Little Theater (New York), 193.
Littmann, Max, 45, 46, 85, 203.
_Living Corpse, The_, 84.
Lorensberg Theater (Gothenburg), 111.
_Lulu_, 28, 83;
see also _Erdgeist_ and _Pandora’s Box_.
Lydia _et_ Henry, 206.
_Lysistrata_, 192.
_Macbeth_, the opera, (André-Jansson), opp. 54, 55, 78, 79, 121.
Mack, Wm. B., 87.
MacKaye, Percy, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163.
MacKaye, Steele, 160-161.
Madison Square Garden (New York), 159.
Maeterlinck, Maurice, 8, 121.
_Magda_, 193.
Mallarmé, Stephane, 29.
Manet, E., 201.
_Maria Stuart_, (Weichert-Sievert), 54, 55, 88, 112, opp. 112, opp.
114.
_Marriage of Convenience, A_, 192.
_Marriage of Figaro, The_, _frontispiece_, 184, 186, opp. 186, 188,
189, 190.
Marionettes, 73.
_Masque of St. Louis, The_, (MacKaye-Smith), 159, 161.
_Masse-Mensch_, (Fehling-Strohbach), vii, 34, 53, 55, 62, 72, 80, 90,
144-156, opp. 148, opp. 150, opp. 152, opp. 154, opp. 156, 196,
208-209, 211.
_Master Builder, The_, 28.
Matisse, Henri, 38.
Maugham, Somerset, 192.
Medrano, see Cirque Medrano.
_Merchant of Venice, The_, (Reinhardt), 111; 207-208, opp. 208.
_Meistersinger, Die_, (Roller), 55, 56, opp. 56.
Mérimée, Prosper, 179.
_Midsummer Night’s Dream, A_, (Reinhardt), 110, 192.
Miller’s Theater, Henry (New York), 193.
Milne, A. A., 192.
_Miracle, The_, (Reinhardt-Stern), 110.
_Misanthrope, Le_, 117, 171, 188.
Mitchell, Grant, 17.
Moissi, Alexander, 82, 111, 139, 189, 200.
Molière, 23, 100, 117, 120, 188, 192.
_Molluso, The_, 192.
_Mörder Hoffnung der Frauen_, (Lert-Sievert), 32-33, opp. 32.
Morgan, J. P., 220.
Moscow Art Theater, vii, 8, opp. 10, 11-16, 25, 28, 83, 90, 97, 102,
158, 192.
Motion Pictures, 216.
Mozart, 73.
Müller, Gerda, 88, 89.
Munich National Theater, opp. 64, 65, 76, opp. 76, 85;
(Acting company) 86-87.
_Murderer, Hope of Women_, see _Mörder, Hoffnung der Frauen_.
_Musik und die Inscenierung, Die_, 68.
Müthel, Lothar, 89.
_Napoleon_, (Jessner-Klein), 88, opp. 126, 131, 132, 133-134,
135-136, 136-137, 139.
National Theater (Munich), see Munich National Theater.
_Night Lodging_, 110, 191.
_Neue Schaubühne, Die_, 33.
Neues Volkstheater (Berlin), 145.
New York Theater Guild, see Theater Guild.
_Oberon_, (Hasait), 73.
_Œdipus-Rex_, (Reinhardt-Stern), 110, 115, 162, 165, 168.
Œttly, Paul, 180.
O’Neill, Eugene, 5, 21, 29, 37.
_Orestes_, (Reinhardt), 162.
Orska, Marie, 83.
_Orpheus in the Underworld_, (Reinhardt-Rée), 107-110.
_Othello_, (Jessner-Pirchan), 72, opp. 128, opp. 130, 131, 132, opp.
132, opp. 134, 136, 138, 139, 140, 141.
Pallenberg, Max, 82, 83, 189, 200.
_Pandora’s Box_, 28, 83.
Parrish, Maxfield, 55.
Pasetti, Leo, opp. 64, 65, opp. 76.
_Path of the Russian Stage, The_, 99.
Pavloff, P. A., 11, 13.
_Peer Gynt_, 54, 55, 88, 113.
_Penthesilea_ (Reinhardt-Stern), 55.
Permanent setting, 64, 104, 159, 184-197, 207.
Phillips, 71.
Picasso, Pablo, 6, 38, 214.
Pinero, Sir A. W., 6.
Pirchan, Emil, opp. 60, 119, 131, opp. 126, opp. 128, opp. 130, opp.
132, opp. 134, opp. 136, opp. 138, opp. 140, opp. 142, opp.
144, opp. 146.
Pitoëff, Georges, opp. 24, 25, 53, 125, opp. 124, 127.
Plymouth Theater (New York), 193.
Podium, 63, 126, 196, 213.
Poelzig, Hans, 109, 116, 166-167, 168.
Ponto, Erich, 90.
Portal, see Inner proscenium.
Price, Georgie, 97.
Prices of admission, 50.
Prinzregenten Theater (Munich), 46, 85, 203.
Projected scenery, 72-78.
_Prunella_, 192.
Prussian State Opera House, see Berlin State Opera House.
Prussian State Schauspielhaus, see Berlin State Schauspielhaus.
_Pygmalion_, (Linnebach), 25, 64, 88.
Rachel, Elisa, 100.
Racine, 192.
_Redemption_, (Hopkins-Jones), 84.
Redoutensaal (Vienna), frontispiece, vii, viii, 25, 56, 66, 117, 126,
176, 177, 184-197, opp. 186, opp. 190, 204, 205, 207, 210, 211,
216.
Rée, Max, 108.
Reinhardt, Max, 25, 30, 32, 42, 44, 46, 50, 55, 56, 58, 59, 82,
107-111, opp. 108, 112, 113, 115-117, 118, 119, 121, 125, 129,
130, 149, 159, 160, 162-170, 186, 188, 189, 190, 199, 200, 209,
216.
Religion and the theater, 170, 215-222.
Repertory system, 49-50.
Residenz Theater (Munich), 85.
Revolving stage, 58-59, 61-62, 213.
_Rheingold, Das_, (Hasait), 62, 65;
(Linnebach-Pasetti), opp. 64, 65, 76, opp. 76.
_Richard III_ (Jessner-Pirchan), 53, 80, 131, 134, 136, opp. 136,
137-142, opp. 138, opp. 142, opp. 144, opp. 146.
Richardson, Dorothy, 66.
_Ring vs. Rang_, 46.
Rodin, August, 137, 140, 182.
Roerich, Nicolas, 57.
Rolland, Romain, 110, 167.
Roller, Alfred, 44, 47, 55, 56, opp. 56, 57, 189-190.
_Romeo and Juliet_, (Reinhardt), 111;
(Lindberg), 112, 192, 194.
Roscius, 100.
_Rosmersholm_, 193.
Rosse, Herman, 159.
Royal Swedish Opera, see Swedish Opera.
_R. U. R._ (Hilar-Capek), 36-37.
_Rundhorizont_, 71.
_Sabine Women, The_, 192.
St. Martin’s Theater (London), 193.
Salle des Machines, La (Paris), 66.
Salzburg Festspielhaus, 107, 116.
_Samson and Delilah_, (André-Grünewald), 77, 121-123, opp. 120, opp.
122.
_Samson and Delilah_ (the play), 94.
Sandburg, Carl, 221.
_Saturday Evening Post, The_, 220.
Savry, Albert, 181.
Saxon State Schauspielhaus, see Dresden Schauspielhaus.
Schaeffer, Rudolph, 194.
_Schatzgräber, Der_, opp. 60.
Schauspielhaus (Berlin), see Berlin State Schauspielhaus.
Schauspielhaus (Dresden), see Dresden Schauspielhaus.
Schauspielhaus (Frankfort), see Frankfort Schauspielhaus.
Schiebebühne, see Sliding stage.
Schildkraut, Rudolf, 82.
Schinkel, C. F., 45, 120.
_School for Scandal, The_, 192.
Schwabe, 71, 74.
_Seagull, The_ (Pitoëff), 25, 28.
Selwyn Theater (New York), 193.
Semper, G., 45.
Senders, 84.
Shadow-marionettes, 73.
Shakespeare, Wm., 6, 22, 23, 24, 53, 87, 93, 100, 110, 120, 121, 134,
137, 140, 141, 161, 181, 192, 193, 199, 209, 212.
Shaw, G. B., 8, 25, 73, 193.
Shelley, 6, 207.
Siddons, Mrs., 23, 100.
Sievert, Ludwig, opp. 32, 33, 51, 112-119, opp. 112, opp. 114,
123-124.
Simonson, Lee, 73, 76, 77, 133, 194.
Sinking stage, 60, 61, 62, 63-64, 65, 66.
_Six Cylinder Love_, 96.
Sky-dome, see Dome.
Sliding stage, 58, 59-61, 65.
Sophocles, 110, 159, 162.
Spectatorium (Chicago), 161.
_Spook Sonata, The_, 28;
(Munich), 30-31.
_S. S. Tenacity, The_, (Copeau), 25, 84, 104, 105, 178, 179.
Staatsoper (Berlin), see Berlin State Opera House.
Staatsoper (Vienna), see Vienna Opera House.
Stanislavsky, C. S., 8, opp. 10, 11, 13, 14, 94, 95, 121, 158.
State Opera House (Dresden), see Dresden Opera.
State Opera House (Berlin), see Berlin State Opera House.
State Schauspielhaus (Berlin), see Berlin State Schauspielhaus.
State Schauspielhaus (Dresden), see Dresden Schauspielhaus.
_Stella_, 117, 188.
Stern, Ernst, 44, 47, 48, 55, 57, 58, opp. 108, 109, 118, 119, 125,
167, 189.
Strauss, Richard, 116, 146.
_Strife_, 209.
Strindberg, August, 27-28, 29, 31, 32, 42, 51, 107.
Strnad, Oskar, 199.
Strohbach, Hans, opp. 44, 119, 148, opp. 148, 149, opp. 150, opp.
152, opp. 154, opp. 156.
Ström, Knut, 111, 125.
_Sturm, Der_, 29.
Sudraka, 88.
_Sumurûn_, (Reinhardt-Stern), 44, 82, 108, 159.
_Sunken Bell, The_, 55.
_Swanwhite_, 28.
Swedish Opera (Stockholm), viii, opp. 54, 55, 74, 75, 108, opp. 120,
opp. 122.
Szukalsky, Stanislas, 183.
Talma, F. J., 100.
_Taming of the Shrew, The_, 86, 102.
Tchehoff, Anton, 8, 11, 25, 28, 29.
Théâtre du Vieux-Colombier (Paris), viii, 55;
(Acting company), 103-105, 106, 159, 171-183; opp. 174; opp. 180;
(Acting company), 178-183; 188, 200, 207, 209, 210.
Theater Guild (New York), 73, 78, 133.
Theater in dem Redoutensaal (Vienna), see Redoutensaal.
Theater of Dionysus (Athens), 211.
Theater of the Five Thousand, The, 115, 162, 170, 199.
_Theater of the World, The_, 216, 218.
Thomas, Augustus, 7.
_Three Sisters, The_, 94.
Toller, Ernst, 144, 146, 147, 154, see _Masse-Mensch_.
_Towards Damascus_, 28;
(Kerb-Sievert), 51, 56, 123-124.
Toy Theater (Boston), 171.
Treszler, 84.
_Traum, ein Leben, Der_, opp. 44.
_Trojan Women, The_ (Browne), 171.
_Troubador, Der_, 56.
Truex, Ernest, 96.
_Truth, The_, 192.
_Truth About Blayds, The_, 194.
_Turandot_, 117, 188.
_Twelfth Night_ (Copeau-Jouvet), 103, 104, 180-181, 192, 194.
_Ubermarionette_, 19.
Ulmer, Friedrich, 87.
_Uncle Vanya_, opp. 124.
Van Gogh, Vincent, 38.
_Vasantasena_, (Hettner), 64, 88, 89, 90.
_Vatermord_, 29-30.
Verden, Alice, 88.
Verdi, G., 55, 78.
_Versunkene Glocke, Die_, 168.
Vetter, President, 117, 186, 187.
Vienna Opera House, opp. 56, 185, 186, 188.
Vieux-Colombier, see Théâter du Vieux-Colombier.
Vildrac, Charles, 84.
Volksbühne (Berlin), viii, opp. 44, 46, 47, 55, 62, 72, 90, 144-146,
148, 152, 153, 155, see illus. of _Masse-Mensch_.
Volksoper (Berlin), 145.
Wagner, R., 45, 68, 69.
Wagon stage, 61.
Washington Square Players, 56.
_Wauwau, Der_, 83.
_Weavers, The_, 192, 209.
Weber, 73.
Weber, Joe, 204.
Wedekind, Frank, 28-29, 32, 83, 84, 107.
Wegener, Paul, 82.
Weichert, Richard, 88, 112-115, opp. 112, opp. 114, 119.
_When We Dead Awaken_, 28.
Wilbrand, 84.
_Wild Duck, The_, 28.
Wilde, Oscar, 192, 209.
Wilfred Thomas, 76.
_Wilhelm Tell_, (Linnebach), 73.
_Will of Song, The_, (MacKaye-Barhart-Jones), 159, 161.
Wright, Frank Lloyd, 159.
_W. U. R._, see _R. U. R._
_Zauberflöte_, (Hasait), 73.
Transcriber’s Notes
pg xv Changed: A Pitoëff Produtction
to: A Pitoëff Production
pg 111 Changed: Gothenburg, the commerical city of Sweden
to: Gothenburg, the commercial city of Sweden
pg 125 Changed: for Rinehardt there was always
to: for Reinhardt there was always
pg 188 Changed: while he was makng preparations
to: while he was making preparations