The symbolism of this drama is intricate and curious. The effigies

representing the Great Serpent, an important supernatural personage in

the legends of the Hopi Indians, are somehow associated with the Hopi

version of a flood; for it was said that when the ancestors of certain

clans lived far south this monster once rose through the middle of the

pueblo plaza, drawing after him a great flood which submerged the land

and which obliged the Hopi to migrate into his present home, farther

North. The snake effigies knocking over the cornfields symbolize

floods, possible winds which the Serpent brings. The figurines of the

Corn Maids represent the mythical maidens whose beneficent gift of corn

and other seeds, in ancient times, is a constant theme in Hopi legends.

The effigies which Dr. Fewkes saw used were not very ancient, but in

olden times similar effigies existed and were kept in stone enclosures

outside the pueblos. The house of the _Ancient Plumed Snake of Hano_ is

in a small cave in the side of a mesa near the ruins of Turkinobi where

several broken serpent heads and effigy ribs (or wooden hoops) can now

be seen, although the entrance is walled up and rarely used.

The puppet shows commonly seen to-day in the United States are of

foreign extraction or at least inspired by foreign models. For many

years there have been puppet-plays throughout the country. Visiting

exhibitions like those of Holden’s marionettes which Professor Brander

Matthews praises so glowingly are, naturally, rare. But one hears of

many puppets in days past that have left their impression upon the

childhood memories of our elders, travelling as far South as Savannah

or wandering through the New England states. Our vaudevilles and

sideshows and galleries often have exhibits of mechanical dolls, such

as the amazing feats of _Mantell’s Marionette Hippodrome Fairy-land

Transformation_ which advertises “Big scenic novelty, seventeen

gorgeous drop curtains, forty-five elegant talking acting figures in

a comical pantomime,” or _Madam Jewel’s Manikins_ in Keith’s Circuit,

Madam Jewel being an aunt of Holden, they say, and guarding zealously

with canvas screens the secret of her devices, even as Holden himself

is said to have done.

Interesting, too, is the story of the retired marionettist, Harry

Deaves, who writes: “I have on hand forty to fifty marionette figures,

all in fine shape and dressed. I have been in the manikin business

forty-five years, played all the large cities from coast to coast,

over and over, always with big success; twenty-eight weeks in Chicago

without a break with Uncle Tom’s Cabin, a big hit. The reason I am

selling my outfit is,--I am over sixty years of age and I don’t think

I will work it again.” How one wishes one might have seen that _Uncle

Tom’s Cabin_ in Chicago! In New York at present there is Remo Buffano,

reviving interest in the puppets by giving performances now and then in

a semi-professional way with large, simple dolls resembling somewhat

the Sicilian burattini. His are plays of adventure and fairy lore.

Then, too, in most of our larger cities from time to time crude popular

shows from abroad are to be found around the foreign neighborhoods. It

is said that at one time in Chicago there were Turkish shadow plays in

the Greek Colony; Punch and Judy make their appearance at intervals,

and Italian or Sicilian showmen frequently give dramatic versions of

the legends of Charlemagne.

In Cleveland two years ago a party of inquisitive folk went one night

to the Italian neighborhood in search of such a performance. We found

and entered a dark little hall where the rows of seats were crowded

closely together and packed with a spellbound audience of Italian

workingmen and boys. Squeezing into our places with as little commotion

as possible we settled down to succumb to the spell of the crude

foreign fantoccini, large and completely armed, who were violently

whacking and slashing each other before a rather tattered drop curtain.

Interpreted into incorrect English by a small boy glued to my side,

broken bits of the resounding tale of _Orlando Furioso_ were hissed

into my ear. But for these slangy ejaculations one might well have

been in the heart of Palermo. A similar performance is described by

Mr. Arthur Gleason. It was a show in New York, the master of which was

Salvatore Cascio, and he was assisted by Maria Grasso, daughter of the

Sicilian actor, Giovanni Grasso of Catania.

[Illustration: ITALIAN MARIONETTE SHOW Operated in Cleveland for a

season. Proprietor, Joseph Scionte [Courtesy of Cleveland _Plain

Dealer_]]

“For two hours every evening for fifty evenings the legends unrolled

themselves, princes of the blood and ugly unbelievers perpetually

warring.” There was, explains Mr. Gleason, some splendid fighting.

“Christians and Saracens generally proceeded to quarrel at close

range with short stabbing motions at the opponent’s face and lungs.

After three minutes they swing back and then clash!! sword shivers

on shield!! Three times they clash horridly, three times retire to

the wings, at last the Christian beats down his foe; the pianist

meanwhile is playing violent ragtime during the fight, five hidden

manipulators are stamping on the platform above, the cluttered dead are

heaped high on the stage.” When one considers that such puppets are

generally about three feet high and weigh one hundred pounds, armor and

all, and are operated by one or two thick iron rods firmly attached to

the head and hands, what wonder that the flooring of the stage is badly

damaged by the terrific battles waged upon it and has to be renewed

every two weeks!

Far removed from these unsophisticated performances, however, are the

poetic puppets of the Chicago Little Theatre. I use the present tense

optimistically despite the sad fact that the Little Theatre in Chicago

has been closed owing to unfavorable conditions caused by the war. But

although “Puck is at present cosily asleep in his box,” as Mrs. Maurice

Browne has written, we all hope that the puppets so auspiciously

successful for three years will resume their delightful activities,

somehow or other, soon.

At first the originators of the Chicago marionettes travelled far

into Italy and Germany, seeking models for their project. Finally in

Solln near Munich they discovered Marie Janssen and her sister, whose

delicate and fantastic puppet plays most nearly approached their own

ideals. They brought back to Chicago a queer little model purchased in

Munich from the man who had made Papa Schmidt’s Puppen. But, as one

of the group has written, the little German puppet seemed graceless

under these skies. And so, Ellen Van Volkenburg (Mrs. Maurice Browne)

and Mrs. Seymour Edgerton proceeded to construct their own marionettes.

Miss Katherine Wheeler, a young English sculptor, modelled the faces,

each a clear-cut mask to fit the character, but left purposely rough in

finish. Miss Wheeler felt that the broken surfaces carried the facial

expression farther. The puppets were fourteen inches high, carved in

wood. The intricate mechanism devised by Harriet Edgerton rendered

the figures extremely pliable. Her mermaids, with their serpentine

jointing, displayed an uncanny sinuousness. Miss Lillian Owen was

Mistress of the Needle, devising the filmy costumes, and Mrs. Browne

with fine technique and keen dramatic sense took upon herself the task

of training and inspiring the puppeteers as well as creating the poetic

ensemble.

[Illustration: MARIONETTES AT THE CHICAGO LITTLE THEATRE

Production of _Alice in Wonderland_ under Mrs. Maurice Browne’s

direction

_Upper_: The Duchess’s Kitchen

_Lower_: The White Rabbit’s House]

The Chicago puppets are neither grotesque nor humorous and they have

little in common with the puppet of tradition. Theirs is an element

of exquisite magical fairy-land, with dainty beings moving about in

it, who can express beauty, tragedy and tenderness. Their repertoire

consists for the most part of fantasies written or adapted by members

of the group. The first was a delicious fairy adventure, a play for

children, _The Deluded Dragon_, founded upon an old Chinese legend,

wherein a lovely Prince seems to follow a Wooden Spoon down the River

certain that he will chance upon Adventure, which he does. The play

was decidedly successful, despite a most unfortunate accident at the

first performance caused by the impetuosity of the somewhat hurried

puppeteers. To be more explicit, “the fierce but fragile dragon parted

in the middle, his five heads swinging free of his timorously lashing

tail.” “The same year,” continues Miss Hettie Louise Mick, herself

puppeteer and composer of marionette plays, “Reginald Arkell’s charming

fantasy, _Columbine_, was produced with more patience and proved a

wholly delightful and almost finished thing.”

The next year two fairy tales were presented, _Jack and the Beanstalk_

and _The Little Mermaid_, both dramatized by the puppeteers. Great

technical advances had been made in the latter play and a delicate,

fantastic effect attained, approaching the ideals of the founders. The

last and most ambitious performance of this season was Shakespeare’s

_A Midsummer Night’s Dream_, given not only for children but openly

for the grown-ups. Of this production Miss Mick has written: “Puck,

who had been known formerly as the rather stiff little fairy who

introduced and closed each play in rhyme, now became his romping,

pliant self, tumbling through the air, doubling up in chortling

glee upon his toadstool and pushing his annoying little person into

every disconcerted mortal’s way. Titania emerged, a glowing queen of

filmy draperies, attended by flitting elves, and Oberon resumed his

crafty, flashing earth-character, his attendants being two inflated

and wholly impudent bugs. The Mechanicals, while clumsy, fulfilled

their parts well and brought the outworn humor of Shakespeare into

hilarious reality, the scene between Pyramus and Thisbe never failing

to bring roars of appreciation from the audience. Only the Greeks

were a dank and dismal failure. Hurriedly constructed to meet the

rapidly approaching production date, they were awkward, long-headed,

stiff-jointed creatures highly unlike their graceful originals. But

the lighting and settings, and the prevailing atmosphere of exquisite

unreality were such that the audience came night after night for five

weeks, and at the end of that time, when the theatre closed for the

season, demanded more.”

Mrs. Browne, in an informal letter about her puppets, has written

concerning this performance: “I don’t think I ever have seen such

delicate beauty as was achieved at the end of the Midsummer: I say it

in all simplicity because I have a curious, Irish feeling that the

little dolls took matters into their own hands and for once allowed us

a glimpse into their own secret world. The audience, whether of adults

or of children, never failed to respond with a sudden hush and the

poor, tired girls who had been working in great heat over the colored

lights for two hours never failed to get their reward.” Mrs. Browne

then proceeded to give an idea of the patient toil behind the scenes.

“We rehearsed six hours a day for about seven weeks to prepare the

play. Six girls worked the puppets; there were about thirty of them,

so you can see how many characters each girl had to create and how

many dolls she had to work (my puppeteers spoke for each puppet they

handled). Besides the actual workers, I had an understudy whose duty it

was to stand on the platform back of the girls to take their puppets

from them when the scenes were moving quickly and many characters were

leaving the stage at once; she then hung the puppets where they could

be easily reached for their next entrance. Hers was, of course, the

most thankless task of all because she had none of the pleasure, and

the accuracy of the performance depended upon her efficiency. None who

have not worked with puppets can understand the nervous strain of these

performances.”

The third year of the Chicago puppets saw progress in many directions.

The enthusiasm of the puppeteers had finally been aroused to the

point where each contributed suggestions in the line of mechanical

construction or the adapting of plays. Mr. H. Carrol French of the

South Bend Little Theatre came to be puppet manager and added many

improvements to the mechanism of the dolls, constructing the bodies of

wire instead of wood (some suggestions for which he received through

the courtesy of Mr. Tony Sarg). The new dolls were more sensitive to

manipulation than the old, and more individual in their gestures. The

repertoire for this season consisted of two little fairy plays, _The

Frog Prince_ and _Little Red Riding Hood_, adaptations of Miss Mick,

and then _Alice in Wonderland_, made into a play by Mrs. Browne.

While this play never wove so strong a poetic spell as _A Midsummer

Night’s Dream_, it marked great strides in skill on the part of the

manipulators. This same year the little puppets went on a tour, not

only into the suburbs of Chicago but, under the auspices of the

Drama League, as far as St. Louis. Let us hope that at some not too

distant date Puck, moving sprite among this brave and poetic band of

marionettes, will gaily revive and travel farther with his troupe so

that we all may witness and enjoy his fairy charms.[5]

[Illustration: MARIONETTES AT THE CLEVELAND PLAY HOUSE

Presenting _The Life of Chopin_

Puppets and scenery designed by Carl Broemel]

The Cleveland Playhouse has had its puppet stage from the very

beginning of the organization. Mr. Raymond O’Neil, the director,

has always taken a great interest in the puppets. He believes, with

Mr. Gordon Craig, that they might well serve as models in style,

simplicity and impersonality for living actors, but he also avers that

they are capable of presenting certain types of drama as effectively

if not more satisfactorily than the best of actors, and certainly

better than any second-rate performers. When the Cleveland Playhouse

was still a very small, informal group it was decided to produce a

serious marionette play. The director selected for this purpose _The

Death of Tintagiles_, written by Maeterlinck expressly for puppets. A

Cleveland artist, Mr. George Clisby, worked out the proper proportions

for the marionettes and the stage and their relation to each other.

It is recognized by all who witness them that the effectiveness and

success of the Cleveland productions are due in great part to the happy

proportions prevailing in the marionette scenes and the sense of a

complete, harmonious whole which they create.

Mr. Clisby also designed the costumes for the first dolls, and the

scenery. Only the significant and essential was allowed upon his

little stage, strong, simple lines and colors, a few poplar trees upon

a hilltop in the blue dusk of the evening, or plain, gloomy chambers

with high arches leading away into mysterious passages, or at the very

last, merely a door, a massive, closed iron door set in bare walls. The

figures were planned in the same spirit. Being very small they were

given practically no features, a scowling eyebrow, a dignified beard,

long hair or short, stiff or flowing, being sufficient indication of

the type represented.

Miss Grace Treat, who made and dressed most of the marionettes, caught

and embodied the artist’s ideal in strange, tall puppets, naïve but

marvelously impressive. The construction of these puppets, although

extremely simple, had to be planned and executed patiently. Often a

marionette was taken apart and made over again until the right effect,

or the proper gesture, was obtained. The puppets are somewhat like rag

dolls, of a soft material, stuffed with cotton or scraps, weighted and

carefully balanced with lead. Five and at most seven strings are used

and the control is very primitive. This studied simplicity in structure

and in costume has given the Cleveland puppets a naïve style,--their

limitations both defining and emphasizing the significance of each

little figure. Miss Treat was also the master-manipulator of the

puppets and in her hands the stiff little Ygraine took on heroic and

tragic proportions.

For many months a small group of faithful enthusiasts struggled to

attain the standard set for them by director and artist. The play was

finally given before an audience of Playhouse members. Mr. O’Neil

produced the strangely beautiful lighting with the crudest facilities

imaginable. The parts were read by members of the group who had been

working along patiently with the manipulators until words, settings and

action had grown perfectly harmonious. Those who were privileged to

witness this first production were deeply thrilled by the poetic beauty

of it, and still mention it as an unusual experience.

Encouraged by this initial success, the group determined to continue

with marionettes. But the Playhouse itself was going through a winter

of vicissitudes and the puppeteers were compelled to endure and suffer

many delays and disappointments. Rehearsing in a rear room of an empty

house loaned for the season (and often fabulously cold!) with readers

and operators dropping out one by one from sheer discouragement or

because of war work, trying out several plays which for one reason or

another proved impossible, still a nucleus of the old group, with the

addition of a few new workers, held on, held out through this second

season under the ever optimistic leadership of Grace Treat. After

moving into other temporary quarters, to be exact, into the high and

dingy little ball-room of an old residence turned boarding-house, the

group produced a very successful repetition of _Tintagiles_.[6]

Meanwhile the Playhouse had purchased a little church which it

remodeled, decorated and equipped as a permanent theatre. During this

time, and under most trying circumstances brought about by the war, the

director contrived to present several productions for the first Winter

in the new playhouse, among them two marionette performances. Most of

the puppeteers and readers for both of these plays were new at the work

and had to be trained from the very beginning. The stage, too, had been

altered to admit of a cyclorama, improved lighting arrangements and,

quite incidentally, a stronger and safer _bridge_. Nevertheless certain

methods and principles of manipulating were evolved which somewhat

raised the dexterity of the group as a whole.

One of the plays we produced was _Shadowy Waters_ by Yeats, a dreamy,

far-away, old Irish drama which lent itself beautifully to our type of

poetic puppets. Mr. John Black designed the colorful costumes and the

scene upon the deck of a vessel. The pleasure of making and dressing

the impressionistic dolls was delegated to me, but all willing members

of the group were allowed to share in this privilege. There were five

long-suffering readers and four patient operators, besides the director

of the group, who also manipulated, with extra assistance, at the

very end, to carry the marionettes back and forth behind the scene.

Mr. O’Neil also generously helped in staging the production. Many and

varied were the rehearsal evenings we spent together. But, when at

last the curtain slowly fell upon the Queen in her turquoise gown with

“hair the color of burning” and her dark, melancholy lover beside her,

deserted by the sailors and drifting away over shadowy blue waters

to the strains of the magic harp, we all felt that we had created

something of beauty, despite our inexperience and obvious shortcomings.

[Illustration: MARIONETTES AT THE CLEVELAND PLAY HOUSE

Production of _Shadowy Waters_ by W. B. Yeats

Puppets and scenery designed by John Black

]

The other puppet play was somewhat in the nature of a departure at

the Playhouse. A little narrative of the life of Chopin, written by

Mr. Albert Gehring, was read to the accompaniment of piano selections

from Chopin’s music while dainty little figures of the period, gently

moving, enacted the scenes in the story as it proceeded. This method

has had many and ancient precedents in the ambulent puppet shows of

the Middle Ages. The success of the experiment has suggested to some

puppeteers in the group the idea of further attempts in this manner.

Mr. Carl Broemel was the artist who designed the elegantly clad and

exquisite little dolls, as well as the setting for the play. The latter

was a remarkable example of a miniature interior which, despite its

diminutive furnishings, had nothing petty about it but gave one the

unified, powerful effect of a dignified painting, poetically and simply

conceived.

Thus the Cleveland puppets have struggled along through hard days of

war and worries, very much alive although perhaps less active than

they may hope some day to be. Plans have been made to start rehearsing

a play longer and more important than the recent endeavors, (possibly

Hauptmann’s _Hannele_). The problem of a permanent marionette theatre

depending upon volunteer workers is unbelievably difficult, but we feel

that with time the solution can be found not only for our group but for

other communities as well who may venture upon this fascinating minor

branch of dramatic endeavor.[7]

To New York accrues the credit of having to-day professional

marionettes on exhibition in a theatre on Broadway. Created by

the inventive genius of Mr. Tony Sarg, and sustained through the

sympathetic interest of Mr. Winthrop Ames, these most accomplished and

amazing dolls made their debut at the Neighborhood Playhouse over a

year ago, whence, after, arousing great enthusiasm, they moved into the

Punch and Judy Theatre. There, before an audience of appreciative big

and little folk, they performed three tales of fable and fantasia, or

as the headlines of a newspaper described it, after the manner of the

old advertisements: “Master marionettes of new Refinements. Strangely

Human Semblance and Various Illusion ... Tale and Whimsey.”

The story of these marionettes began over five years ago in London,

where Mr. Sarg had his studio in _The Old Curiosity Shop_, made famous

by Dickens. There he worked at his illustrating and played with his

puppets. The performances he gave for the amusement of himself and

his friends encouraged him in becoming more and more absorbed in

the miniature stage. After the war had broken out, Mr. Sarg came to

New York and brought his marionettes along. Here he continued his

professional activities, illustrating diligently and most successfully,

with interludes of puppet play. When, finally, Mr. Ames became

interested in presenting these puppets to the public, it was found

necessary to enlarge and elaborate upon the original pattern, and after

many months of experimenting, patient labor and happy inspiration, Mr.

Sarg perfected the ingenious, three-foot marionettes used in these

first public productions.

[Illustration: MR. TONY SARG’S MARIONETTES BEHIND THE SCENES]

Each of his thirty-six or more little figures was designed with an

eye to its special uses; some require as many as twenty-four strings

for the manipulating. One of the little figures is a masterpiece of

flexibility. Of her it has been written: “This doll is an Oriental

dancer. Her contortions and posturings are in perfect imitation of the

living Nautch-girl and it is safe to say that nothing ever seen on

the puppet stage of America at least can surpass the ease and grace

with which her little body sways backward in an inverted crescent, the

ethereal lightness of her circling about the stage and the abandon of

her attitudes in the dance.” Another critic comments with an almost

audible chuckle: “... a nine days’ marvel and most improper. She pains

and shocks all right thinking people by her shameless display of those

allurements against which all the prophets have warned the sons of men.”

A Book of Marionettes · 第 10 / 14 段