gods of Olympus ascended and descended to strains of music. Crawley
was another rival. He advertised his show as follows: “At Crawley’s
Booth, over against the Crown Tavern in Smithfield, during the time
of Bartholomew Fair, will be presented a little opera called the Old
Creation of the World, yet newly revived, with addition of Noah’s
Flood, also several fountains, playing water during the time of the
play. The last scene does present Noah and his family coming out of the
Ark with all the beasts, two and two, and all the fowls of the air seen
in a prospect sitting upon trees: likewise over the Ark is seen the sun
rising in a glorious manner; moreover a multitude of angels will be
seen in a double rank, which presents a double prospect, one for the
sun, the other for the palace where will be seen six Angels ringing
bells. Likewise Machines descend from above, double and treble, with
Dives rising out of Hell and Lazarus seen in Abraham’s bosom, besides
several figures dancing jigs, sarabands, and country dances to the
admiration of the spectators: with the merry conceits of Squire Punch
and Sir John Spendall.”
After these motion makers, came other showmen with many inventions.
Colley Cibber wrote dramas for marionettes, and his daughter, the
actress, Charlotte Clarke, founded a large puppet theatre. Russell,
the old buffoon, is said to have been interested in this project also,
but it finally failed. When the Scottish lords and other leaders of
the Stuart uprising of 1745 were executed on Tower Hill, the beheading
was made a feature by the puppet exhibitions at May Fair and was
presented for many years after. Later Clapton’s marionettes offered a
play of Grace Darling rescuing the crew of the Forfarshire, “with many
ingenious moving figures of quadrupeds.” Boswell tells us in his _Life
of Johnson_ about Oliver Goldsmith, who was so vain he could not endure
to have anyone do anything better than himself. “Once at an exhibition
of the fantoccini in London, when those who sat next to him observed
with what dexterity a puppet was made to toss a pike, he could not
bear that it should have such praise, and exclaimed with some warmth,
‘Pshaw! I could do it better myself!’” Boswell adds in a note, “He
went home with Mr. Burke to supper and broke his shin by attempting
to exhibit to the company how much better he could jump over a stick
than the puppets.” Dr. Johnson was a great admirer of the fantoccini
in London, and considered a performance of _Macbeth_ by puppets as
satisfactory as when played by human actors.
At the end of the eighteenth century, Flockton’s show displayed five
hundred figures at work in various trades. Browne’s _Theatre of Arts_,
1830–1840 travelled about at country fairs showing _The Battle of
Trafalgar_, _Napoleon’s Army Crossing the Alps_ and the _Marble Palace
of St. Petersburg_. Some marionettes of the nineteenth century became
satirical, attacking literature and politics with mischievous energy.
Punch assumed a thousand disguises; he caricatured Sheridan, Fox, Lord
Nelson. William Hazlitt wrote seriously in praise of puppet shows.
There are gaps in the history of English puppets which seem to imply a
decline in the popularity of that amusement. One comes upon occasional
records of shows straggling through the countryside, and giving the
old, timeworn productions of _Prodigal Son_ or _Noah_, or _Pull Devil_,
_Pull Baker_. During the reign of George IV, puppets were found at
street corners, dancing sailors, milkmaids, clowns, but Punch, as ever,
the favorite.
Even now, puppets on boards may be seen in the streets of London. Of
the old shows, one resident of that city relates: “When I was a child,
marionettes used to go about the streets of London in a theatre on
wheels about as big as a barrel organ, but I dare say I am wrong about
size, because one cannot remember these things. I remember particularly
a skeleton which danced and came to pieces so that his bones lay about
in a heap. When I was properly surprised at this he assembled himself
and danced again. I was so young that I was rather frightened.”
There is to-day one of the old professional marionette showmen
wandering about in England, Clunn Lewiss, who still has a set of
genuine old dolls, bought up from a predecessor’s outfit. For fifty
years he has been traveling along the roads, like a character strayed
out of Dickens. He has interested members of artistic coteries in
London, who have been moved by the old man’s appeals for help, and some
attempts have been made to revive interest in his show. Surely Clunn
Lewiss deserves some recognition.
Altogether unconnected with popular puppets were the highly complicated
mechanical exhibitions of Holden’s marionettes. The amazing feats
performed by Holden’s puppets astonished not only England, but all the
large Continental and American cities where they were displayed. They
were tremendously admired. The surprising dexterity of manipulation,
and the elegance of the settings had never been surpassed. In Paris,
however, de Goncourt wrote of them: “The marionettes of Holden! These
creatures of wood are a little disquieting. There is a dancer turning
on the tips of her toes in the moonlight that might be a character of
Hoffman, etc.
“Holden was more of an illusionist than a true marionettist. He
produced exact illusions of living beings, but he was lacking in
imagination. The fantoches of Holden were certainly marvels of
precision, but they appeal to the eye and not to the spirit. One
admired, one did not laugh at them. They astonished, but they did not
charm.”
[Illustration: OLD ENGLISH PUPPETS
Used by Mr. Clunn Lewiss in his wandering show
[Courtesy of Mr. Tony Sarg]]
There have been several interesting amateur marionette shows within
the last decade. There are the Wilkinsons, two clever modern painters
who have taken their puppets from village to village in England and
also in France. They traveled about with their family in a caravan and
wherever they wished to give a show, they halted and drew forth a
stage from the rear end of the wagon. Their dolls are eight inches high
or more and they require four operators. They are designed with a touch
of caricature, and they perform little plays and scenes invented by the
Wilkinsons, very amusing and witty. Not long ago Mr. Gair Wilkinson
gave a very successful exhibition of his show at the Margaret Morris
Theater in Chelsea for a short season.
The Ilkely Players, of Ilkely, Yorkshire, are a group of young women
who produced puppet plays for some five or six years, touring through
England. Their dolls were rather simple, mechanically; only the arms
were articulated, for the most part; the heads were porcelain dolls’
heads. Nevertheless this group of puppeteers deserves the credit
they attained by reviving the classic old show of _Doctor Faustus_,
at Clifford’s Inn Hall, Chelsea. They also gave very interesting
productions of Maeterlinck’s _The Seven Princesses_, and Thackeray’s
_The Rose and the Ring_, dramatized by Miss Dora Nussey, who was the
leader of the group. Inspired by their success, Miss Margaret Bulley
of Liverpool produced a puppet play of Faustus before the Sandon
Studio Club. Miss Bulley’s puppets were quite simple wooden dolls with
papier-maché heads and tin arms and legs, each worked with seven black
threads. The costumes were copied after old German engravings of the
eighteenth century and the production proved very effective.
Most highly perfected, and most exquisite of English puppets to-day
are those of the artist, Mr. William Simmonds, in Hampstead. They
originated in a village in Wiltshire as an amusement at a Christmas
party given by Mr. and Mrs. Simmonds every year to the village
children. The audience was so delighted that the next year more
puppets were made with a more attractive setting. Friends then became
so enthusiastic that the creators of the puppets realized what might
be done, and in London, the following Spring, they began giving small
private shows.
[Illustration: MR. GAIR WILKINSON AND ASSISTANT AT WORK ON THE BRIDGE
OF THEIR PUPPET THEATRE [Reproduced from _The Sketch_, 1916]]
The productions are only suited to a small audience of forty or
fifty. The puppets are mostly fifteen inches high, some smaller; the
stage is nine feet wide, six deep, and a little over two feet high.
The scenery is painted on small screens. At present there are three
scenes, a Harlequinade, a Woodland Scene and a little Seaport Town.
The puppets are grouped to use one or the other of these scenes. They
do not do plays but seem to find their best expression in songs and
dances connected with various by-play and “business” and a slight
thread of episode which is often varied, never twice alike. Mr.
Simmonds manipulates the puppets entirely alone and cannot work with
anyone close. He frequently operates a puppet in each hand, all with
the utmost dexterity and delicacy, and manages others by means of
hanging them up and moving them slightly at intervals, at the same time
singing, whistling, improvising dialogue or imitating various noises!
People generally expect to find half a dozen manipulators behind the
scenes.
Mr. Simmonds himself carves the heads, hands and feet of his
marionettes in wood (usually lime) and paints them in tempera to avoid
shine. They are beautifully done. Some are dressed, some have clothes
painted on them. Some are quite decorative, others impressionistic or
frankly realistic. Not contented with the little-bit-clumsy doll, Mr.
Simmonds has perfected his puppets with great technical skill until
they move with perfect naturalness, some with dignity, some with grace,
some with humor, each according to its nature.
In the Harliquinade the scene is hung with black velvet, lighted from
the front, which gives the effect of a black void against which the
figures of Harlequin, Columbine, Clown, Pantaloon and others appear
with sparkling brilliancy and vivid color. In the Seaport Town, a
medley of characters appear,--a sailor, a grenadier, a fat woman,
an old man, the minister, etc. There are songs used in this to give
variety. Particularly clever is an English sailor of the time of Nelson
who comes out of a public house and dances a jig, heel-tapping the
floor in perfect time, his hands on his hips and his body rollicking in
perfect character while he sings, “On Friday morn when we set sail.”
Another excellent dancing doll is the washerwoman of the old sort,
short and stout and great-armed, jolly and roughfaced.
In the Woodland Scene, creatures of the wood appear,--faun, dryad,
nymph, young centaurs, baby faun, hunted stag, a forester, a dainty
shepherd and a shepherdess, etc. The little sketch is entirely
wordless, having only musical accompaniment played by Mrs. Simmonds
upon a virginal or a spinet, or an early Erard piano (date 1804). The
sound is just right in scale for the puppets; anything else would
seem heavy. The fauns in this scene are most popular, particularly
the _Baby_ who has an extraordinary tenderness, and skips and leaps
with the agility of a live thing. The act of extreme dreaminess and
beauty is described thus by one who was privileged to witness it.
“In one scene a man went out hunting. He hid behind a bush. A stag
came on. He shot the stag which lay down and died. Then there came
one or two creatures of the wood, who could do nothing, and at last
a very beautiful nymph, lightly clothed in leaves. She succeeded in
resuscitating the stag, who got up and bounded away. When they had
gone, the hunter who had watched it all from behind the bush came out,
and that was all. Music all the time. No words. The stag was quite
astonishing.”
Although he is now living and working in Florence, Mr. Gordon Craig
must not be omitted from any account of English marionettes and
advocates of the puppets. Quite apart from the class of artistic
amateurs and equally remote from the usual professional marionettist of
to-day, Mr. Craig stands rather as a new prophet of puppetry, recalling
in stirring terms the virtues of the old art, and adding his new and
individual interpretation of its value.
Puppets are but a small portion of the dramatic experiment and
propaganda which Mr. Craig is so courageously carrying on in Florence.
But they are not the least interesting branch of his undertakings. He
has assembled a veritable museum of marionette and shadow play material
from all over the world. Pictures of some parts of his collection
appear regularly in “The Marionette.” There are also delightful puppet
plays appearing in this pamphlet. But this is not all.
With the marionette used as a sort of symbol, Mr. Craig has been
conducting research into the very heart of dramatic verities, and
producing dramatic formulas which should apply on any stage at any
time. He has invented his marionettes to express dramatic qualities
which he deems significant, and in his puppets he has attempted to
eliminate all other disturbing and unnecessary qualities. Thus he
creates little wooden patterns or models for his artists of the stage,
and he applies in actual usage Goethe’s maxim: “He who would work for
the stage ... should leave nature in her proper place and take careful
heed not to have recourse to anything but what may be performed by
children with puppets upon boards and laths, together with sheets of
cardboard and linen.”
At the beginning of his experiments with marionettes Mr. Craig and his
assistants constructed one large and extremely complicated doll which
was moved on grooves and manipulated by pedals from below, with a small
_telltale_ to indicate to the operator the exact effect produced. But
this marionette was not satisfactory for Mr. Craig’s purposes.
He then directed his energies in an exactly opposite direction, toward
simplification. The result was small, but very impressive dolls, carved
out of wood and painted in neutral colors,--the color of the scenes in
which they moved, to allow for the fullest and most variable effects
produced by lighting. Most interesting, too, the manner in which
Mr. Craig applied his theories concerning gesture with these little
puppets. Each marionette was allowed to make one or two gestures,--no
more. But these gestures had to be exact, invariable, and the perfect
indication of whatever meaning they were intended to convey. Before
inventing the action of a puppet, Mr. Craig would study, for days or
weeks, watching various people making the movement and expressing
the emotion he desired to portray. Then he would extract from these
observations the general and essential qualities of this particular
gesture; all else, due to the peculiarities of individuals, was left
out as irrelevant for the stage. Hence when Mr. Craig’s puppet moves,
it moves simply, significantly and--one more essential--surely. For
nothing is left to chance. The gesture, once selected, is produced with
infinite care and is made invariable. No whim of the manipulator, no
accident of chance, can alter it. One motion of the finger operates
the figure, and the result is assured.
Naturally a character may be required to exhibit varied succeeding
emotions, not encompassed by one or two motions. In that case the
figure is taken off the stage and replaced by another similar in
appearance but differently articulated for a different purpose. There
are sometimes as many as six or eight puppets for one character.
Mr. Craig has experimented with his marionettes in many plays, some
comedy, some tragedy. It is not recorded whether he has ever given one
finished puppet production: it is immaterial. The idea embodied in
these little puppets is immense,--a valuable and lasting contribution
to constructive dramatic criticism.
_The Marionettes in America_
“They come from far away. They have been the joy of innumerable
generations which preceded our own; they have gained, with our
direct ancestors, many brilliant successes; they have made them
laugh but they have also made them think; they have had eminent
protectors; for them celebrated authors have written. At all
times they have enjoyed a liberty of manners and language which
has rendered them dear to the people for whom they were made.”
ERNEST MAINDRON
How old are the marionettes in America? How old indeed! Older than the
white races which now inhabit the continent, ancient as the ancient
ceremonials of the dispossessed native Indians, more indigenous to
the soil than we who prate of them,--such are the first American
marionettes!
Dramatic ceremonials among the Indians are numerous, even at the
present time. Each tribe has its peculiar, individual rites, performed,
as a rule, by members of the tribe dressed in prescribed, symbolic
costumes and wearing often a conventionalized mask. Occasionally,
however, articulated figures take part in these performances along with
the human participants. Dr. Jesse Walter Fewkes has published a minute
description of a theatrical performance at Walpi which he witnessed in
1900, together with pictures of the weird and curious snake effigies
employed in it.
The Great Serpent drama of the Hopi Indians, called _Palü lakonti_,
occurs annually in the March moon. It is an elaborate festival, the
paraphernalia for which are repaired or manufactured anew for days
preceding the event. There are about six acts and while one of them is
being performed in one room, simultaneously shows are being enacted
in the other eight _kivas_ on the East Mesa. The six sets of actors
pass from one room to another, in all of which spectators await their
coming. Thus, upon one night each performance was given nine times and
was witnessed by approximately five hundred people. The drama lasts
from nine P.M. until midnight.
Dr. Fewkes gives us the following description of the first act: “A
voice was heard at the hatchway, as if some one were hooting outside,
and a moment later a ball of meal, thrown into the room from without,
landed on the floor by the fireplace. This was a signal that the first
group of actors had arrived, and to this announcement the fire tenders
responded, ‘Yunya ai,’ ‘Come in,’ an invitation which was repeated by
several of the spectators. After considerable hesitation on the part
of the visitors, and renewed cries to enter from those in the room,
there was a movement above, and the hatchway was darkened by the form
of a man descending. The fire tenders arose, and held their blankets
about the fire to darken the room. Immediately there came down the
ladder a procession of masked men bearing long poles upon which was
rolled a cloth screen, while under their blankets certain objects were
concealed. Filing to the unoccupied end of the kiva, they rapidly set
up the objects they bore. When they were ready a signal was given, and
the fire tenders, dropping their blankets, resumed their seats by the
fireplace. On the floor before our astonished eyes we saw a miniature
field of corn, made of small clay pedestals out of which projected corn
sprouts a few inches high. Behind this field of corn hung a decorated
cloth screen reaching from one wall of the room to the other and from
the floor almost to the rafters. On this screen were painted many
strange devices, among which were pictures of human beings, male and
female, and of birds, symbols of rain-clouds, lightning, and falling
rain. Prominent among the symbols was a row of six circular disks the
borders of which were made of plaited corn husks, while the enclosed
field of each was decorated with a symbolic picture of the sun. Men
wearing grotesque masks and ceremonial kilts stood on each side of this
screen.
[Illustration: MARIONETTES EMPLOYED IN CEREMONIAL DRAMA OF THE AMERICAN
INDIANS
_Upper_: Serpent effigies, screen and miniature corn field used in Act
I of the _Great Serpent Drama_ of the Hopi Katcinas
[From _A Theatrical Performance at Walpi_, by J. Walter Fewkes, in the
Proceedings of the Washington Academy of Sciences, 1900, Vol. II]
_Lower_: Drawing by a Hopi Indian of articulated figurines of corn
maidens and birds
[From _Hopi Katcinas_, by J. Walter Fewkes]]
“The act began with a song to which the masked men, except the
last mentioned, danced. A hoarse roar made by a concealed actor
blowing through an empty gourd resounded from behind the screen, and
immediately the circular disks swung open up-ward, and were seen to be
flaps, hinged above, covering orifices through which simultaneously
protruded six artificial heads of serpents, realistically painted.
Each head had protuberant goggle eyes, and bore a curved horn and a
fan-like crest of hawk feathers. A mouth with teeth was cut in one
end, and from this orifice there hung a strip of leather, painted red,
representing the tongue.
“Slowly at first, but afterwards more rapidly, these effigies were
thrust farther into view, each revealing a body four or five feet long,
painted, like the head, black on the back and white on the belly.
When they were fully extended the song grew louder, and the effigies
moved back and forth, raising and depressing their heads in time,
wagging them to one side or the other in unison. They seemed to bite
ferociously at each other, and viciously darted at men standing near
the screen. This remarkable play continued for some time, when suddenly
the heads of the serpents bent down to the floor and swept across the
imitation corn field, knocking over the clay pedestals and the corn
leaves which they supported. Then the effigies raised their heads and
wagged them back and forth as before. It was observed that the largest
effigy, or that in the middle, had several udders on each side of the
belly, and that she apparently suckled the others. Meanwhile the roar
emitted from behind the screen by a concealed man continued, and wild
excitement seemed to prevail. Some of the spectators threw meal at the
effigies, offering prayers, amid shouts from others. The masked man,
representing a woman, stepped forward and presented the contents of
the basket tray to the serpent effigies for food, after which he held
his breasts to them as if to suckle them.
“Shortly after this the song diminished in volume, the effigies were
slowly drawn back through the openings, the flaps on which the sun
symbols were painted fell back in place, and after one final roar, made
by the man behind the screen, the room was again silent. The overturned
pedestals with their corn leaves were distributed among the spectators,
and the two men by the fireplace again held up their blankets before
the fire, while the screen was silently rolled up, and the actors with
their paraphernalia departed.”
There are some acts in the drama into which the serpent effigies do
not enter at all. In the fifth act these Great Snakes rise up out of
the orifices of two vases instead of darting out from the screen. This
action is produced by strings hidden in the kiva rafters, the winding
of heads and struggles and gyrations of the sinuous bodies being the
more realistic because in the dim light the strings were invisible.
In the fourth act two masked girls, elaborately dressed in white
ceremonial blankets, usually participate. Upon their entrance they
assume a kneeling posture and at a given signal proceed to grind
meal upon mealing stones placed before the fire, singing, and
accompanied by the clapping of hands. “In some years marionettes
representing Corn Maids are substituted for the two masked girls,”
Dr. Fewkes explains, “in the act of grinding corn, and these two
figures are very skillfully manipulated by concealed actors. Although
this representation was not introduced in 1900, it has often been
described to me, and one of the Hopi men has drawn me a picture of the
marionettes.”
“The figurines are brought into the darkened room wrapped in blankets,
and are set up near the middle of the kiva in much the same way as the
screens. The kneeling images, surrounded by a wooden framework, are
manipulated by concealed men; when the song begins they are made to
bend their bodies backward and forward in time, grinding the meal on
miniature metates before them. The movements of girls in grinding meal
are so cleverly imitated that the figurines moved by hidden strings at
times raised their hands to their faces, which they rubbed with meal as
the girls do when using the grinding stones in their rooms.
“As this marionette performance was occurring, two bird effigies were
made to walk back and forth along the upper horizontal bar of the
framework, while bird calls issued from the rear of the room.”