an adorable little expert, tossing and catching his many golden balls
with such tense, nervous concern, jerking his head left and right to
watch first this hand, then that, then a ball high in air and, having
accomplished his trick, he stands with such justifiable pride and
swelling of chest to receive the well-earned plaudits of the audience!
It was a quite irresistible bit of mimicry. There is, indeed, a nice
humor and an enjoyable but not overemphasized flavor of the grotesque
in these marionettes. Heads, hands and feet are a little exaggerated
in proportion to the rest of the body; added to this, the ease with
which they accomplish the humanly impossible and the difficulty with
which they perform some very trivial and ordinary human acts all bring
about a curious absurdity which is highly amusing.
Of the three plays presented the opening season, the first was _The
Three Wishes_, an old fairy tale dramatized by Count F. Pocci for the
marionette theatre of Papa Schmidt in Munich and re-adapted by Mr.
Ames. “The tiny stage,” writes Miss Anne Stoddard, “is set in a shadow
box; the curtain rises on a sunny knoll with a glimpse of red roofs
in the valley below; bright butterflies flutter above the grass; a
saucy Molly cotton-tail bobs across the hillside.” Another witness of
the performance continues: “The supernatural is a ready aid to the
marionette drama. Hence one is not surprised to find in the first play
of Mr. Sarg’s entertainment a fairy being released from an imprisoning
tree by an old woodcutter and offering her liberator the familiar
three wishes. The tale bears one of the morals familiar in German
folklore. The woodcutter, having received his wish-ring, is awed by
the responsibility which rests upon him and rushes to consult with the
wife of his bosom. She is equally perturbed, but guards the ring for
him while he departs to hold conference with the schoolmaster, but how
perverse is human nature! The wife, entertaining a neighbor during his
absence, casually expresses the wish for a plate of sausages. Presto,
sausages hot and tempting appear before her. The woodcutter, returning
and discovering what use his wife has made of the first wish, angrily
wishes the sausages were growing at the end of her nose, and lo, so
they are. The third wish still remains. But what will avail all the
honor and wealth in the world if one’s wife is to make one ridiculous
by carrying sausages on the end of her nose? Clearly there is nothing
to be done but to utilize the third wish in wishing the sausages off
again. And, this accomplished, the fairy appears to preach a homely
sermon, pointing out how vain are human wishes and ambitions. Let each
gain what he would have by his own will and industry and be contented
with the lot he carves for himself.
“The edifying import of this tale is no less impressive than the
spirited enactment of it,--the grace of the fairy, the ardor of the
woodcutter, the nagging of the wife, the fervent emotion displayed
by the housedog at the smell of the sausages. Such a mingling of
fable, parable and sermon, of petty human nature with the inscrutable
supernatural which hedges us all in is the authentic material of
puppet-drama.”
The other two plays, expertly written by Mrs. Hamilton Williamson,
displayed to the greatest advantage the particular talents of the
puppet virtuosi. It is thus that she depicts the task of the marionette
dramatist. “When Mr. Sarg first told me he wanted a snake-charmer, a
juggler, an Oriental dancer, an elephant and a donkey in one play, I
thought I couldn’t possibly get them together; but, you see, I did.”
Yes, indeed, and more besides in the way of adventure, mystery and
humor, very cleverly devised in the energetic, simple language best
suited to the naïve audience of puppet actors. Nor did the duties of
Mrs. Williamson end with her literary labors. Many and inspired were
her humbler but equally arduous and indispensable achievements for
these puppets.
A similar versatility was displayed by the young women who operated the
puppets. Aside from the laboriously acquired precision essential in
mastering the intricate controls devised for the dolls, each puppeteer
has interested herself in other phases of the ancient craft. Some of
them made the elaborate and colorful costumes for the dolls. Some
helped manufacture the properties, tiny but complete and delightful.
My very first glimpse of the marvelous puppets, indeed, was when, led
by Mrs. Williamson, I came to a very dirty brownstone house not far
from Washington Square, and, entering a gloomy hallway, penetrated
through into the dark rear room where the puppeteers were at work,
all in overalls, all very busy, all very amiable. Someone was sawing
wood, someone was hammering, someone was up on the bridge practicing
the donkey and there was a tiny, live monkey perched on the lumber
which littered the floor. Puppets and monkey ... of course!--following
the example of Brioché and his Fagotin and perfectly true to the best
traditions!
[Illustration: A TRICK PUPPET
In Mr. Tony Sarg’s production, _The Rose and the Ring_; showing how
Gruffanuff becomes instantly beautiful upon finding the magic ring]
It is Mr. Sarg who has trained and inspired all of his workers, who
has designed the costumes as well as the faces and hands of the dolls,
modeled after his drawings, who has invented the clever mechanism
and most of the scenery and ingenious “business” of the stage, who
has directed the actors’ interpretation of the lines, selected the
incidental music, superintended the lighting effects, all with an easy
air of merely enjoying his little hobby.
The play selected by Mr. Sarg for his puppets during their second
season was a very fortunate choice. It was Thackeray’s little fairy
story, _The Rose and the Ring_, made into a drama by one of the
puppeteers, Miss Hettie Louise Mick, who had dramatized other tales
for marionettes when she was working with the Chicago puppets.
Nothing could have been better suited to the nature of Mr. Sarg’s
dolls, humorous, dainty, delicious, all in quaint trappings, and with
divertingly elaborate settings suggestive of the Victorian era quite
proper to the story. To add to the excellence of his production,
Mr. Sarg secured Mrs. Browne to advise in staging and to direct the
rehearsing. She applied her usual methods, training the puppeteers
first through having them act out and speak the lines themselves before
operating the dolls. The manipulators always talk for the marionettes
they operate.
To facilitate in taking the show about the country a collapsible stage
was constructed and the puppets were reduced in size. This diminution
of stature brought about a new refinement, a more mincing manner and
a more piquant facial eccentricity. Early in Spring, _The Rose and
The Ring_ went on a Western tour, visiting Detroit, Ann Arbor and
Cleveland. Mr. Sarg had a group of six manipulators, including Miss
Lillian Owen, mistress of the wardrobe and a sort of right-hand man,
and Mr. Searle, master stage mechanic and constructor of clever scenery
and properties, another right-hand man in fact, and Miss Mick, who
wrote the play. A musician also came along and produced the tinkly,
tinny, toy music so properly attuned to the puppet play. The production
abounded in pretty surprises, horrible suspenses, fairy magic,
transformations, shadow play, dancing dolls, piano playing puppets,
knights in armor, animals, everything desirable! Throughout there was
the flow of Thackeray’s inimitable, good-natured satire, skillfully
preserved by Miss Mick. After enthusiastic receptions wherever he
visited with them, Mr. Sarg returned to New York with his marionettes
and installed them in the Punch and Judy theatre, where they continued
to enjoy their usual popularity.
Mr. Sarg has been asked why he does not attempt poetic drama with his
marionettes. He is faced, of course, with the problem which confronts
all the puppet showmen here in America of finding material suitable for
a given type of doll and also acceptable to local audiences, hitherto
unacquainted with the characteristics and traditions of the burattini.
Concerning a possible performance of one of Maeterlinck’s dramas by the
marionettes, Mr. Sarg has said: “I am turning that over in my mind.
The practicable difficulty is the exaggerated walk of the dolls, which
always brings laughter from the audience. But I dare say I can manage
that all right when I have a chance to work over it a bit.” Let us
hope that this minor difficulty will not prove insurmountable, for, as
Mr. H. K. Moderwell in the _Boston Transcript_ has so aptly written:
“If he will draw further from the ancient and noble sources of puppet
literature, if he will bid his dolls enact some of those dramas which
have made the art of the marionette an inspired art, he will merit the
plaudits of all puppet-starved America.”
_Toy Theatres and Puppet Shows for Children_
Whether, out of their infinite variety, the puppets please or fail to
satisfy us, there is one audience invariably eager for them. Puppet
shows for children, toy theatres managed by children, what could be
more fitting? Specially adapted, professional performances such as the
Guignol and Casperle plays have ever catered to youthful tastes with
astonishing and perennial success. The home-made booths for simple
dolls worked on the fingers are so quickly contrived. Little stages for
marionettes are easy to construct out of ordinary kitchen tables. Mr.
Gordon Craig gives explicit directions as well as an excellent drawing
in his letter, _The Game of Marionettes_, which is published in _The
Mask_, volume five. Shadow plays can be arranged by merely stretching
a sheet across a door with a cardboard frame and cardboard figures
pressed behind it and a light to illuminate the silhouettes. How much
fun to have Red Riding Hood thus portrayed, for a birthday party or the
shadow of Santa Claus with his reindeer sailing over the shadow gables
and down the shadow of the chimney on Christmas eve!
The _Juvenile Drama_ of Skelt and his successors, Park, Webb, Redington
and Pollock, has been immortalized by Stevenson in his little essay, _A
Penny Plain and Twopence Colored_. Printed on thin sheets of cardboard
to be cut out and colored by the youthful stage manager (unless he
bought, oh shame! the _Twopence Colored_), were characters and scenes
for the most exciting plays. Special properties for illuminating and
coloring could be acquired also, at extra expense. The words of the
drama, plus directions, were printed in a pamphlet. They were based
upon thrilling old English melodramas; they presented startling and
highly theatrical situations.
“In the Leith Walk window all the year round, there stood displayed a
theatre in working order, with a _Forest Set_, a _Combat_, and a few
_Robbers Carousing_ in the slides; and below and about, dearer tenfold
to me! the plays themselves, those budgets of romance, lay tumbled
one upon the other. Long and often have I lingered there with empty
pockets. One figure, we shall say, was visible in the first plate
of characters, bearded, pistol in hand, or drawing to his ear the
clothyard arrow. I would spell the name: was it Macaire or Long Tom
Coffin, or Grindoff, 2d dress? Oh, how I would long to see the rest!
How--if the name by chance were hidden--I would wonder in what play he
figured and what immortal legend justified his attitude and strange
apparel! And then to go within to announce yourself as an intending
purchaser, and, closely watched, be suffered to undo those bundles and
to breathlessly devour those pages of gesticulating villains, epileptic
combats, bosky forests, palaces and warships, frowning fortresses and
prison vaults--it was a giddy joy.”
“And when at length the deed was done, the play selected and the
impatient shopman had brushed the rest into the gray portfolio, and
the boy was forth again, a little late for dinner, the lamps springing
into light in the blue winter’s even, and _The Miller_, or _The
Rover_, or some kindred drama clutched against his side, on what gay
feet he ran, and how he laughed aloud in exultation!” And Stevenson
confesses: “I have, at different times, possessed _Aladdin_, _The Red
Rover_, _The Blind Boy_, _The Old Oak Chest_, _The Wood Daemon_, _Jack
Shepard_, _The Miller and His Men_, _Der Freischuetz_, _The Smuggler_,
_The Forest of Bondy_, _Robin Hood_, _The Waterman_, _Richard I._,
_My Poll and my Partner Joe_, _The Inchcape Bell_ (imperfect), and
_Three-fingered Jack the Terror of Jamaica_; and I have assisted
others in the illumination of the _Maid of the Inn_ and _The Battle of
Waterloo_. In this roll-call of stirring names you read the evidences
of a happy childhood.”[8]
In Germany, also, toy theaters abound, better equipped possibly, and
more carefully constructed, but lacking somewhat the quaint and fiery
delightfulness of the English juvenile drama.
There could be no more spontaneous testimonial of the love of children
for the puppets than the throngs who crowded into Papa Schmidt’s
Kasperle theatre to witness his familiar, jolly little shows of
fairy-tale and folklore. In striving to meet the tastes and needs of
children, Schmidt earned the reward of becoming the best beloved man
in the city. It is interesting to note that when, once, he became
discouraged and wished to retire, the city magistrates, urged by the
_superintendent of the schools_, unanimously voted to build him a
permanent little theatre.
And Goethe, that German genius of most universal appeal, records that
he devoted many hours of his childhood to puppet play. Kept at home
during the dreary days of the Seven Years’ War when Frankfurt was
occupied by the French, he diverted not only himself but his family
with the little marionette theatre which he had received as a Christmas
gift. It is thus that he describes his introduction to the puppets who
were to delight his boyhood, to amuse his youth and to inspire him
eventually with the suggestion for his great Faust drama.
“I can still see the moment--how wonderful it seemed--when, after the
usual Christmas presents, we were told to sit down before a door which
led from one room into another. It opened, but not merely for the
usual passing in and out; the entrance was filled with an unexpected
festiveness. A portal reared itself into the heights which was covered
by a mystic curtain. At first we marvelled from a distance and as our
curiosity became greater to see what glittering and rustling things
might be concealed behind the half-transparent drapery, a little chair
was assigned to each of us and we were told to wait in patience.
“So then we all sat down and were quiet. A whistle gave signal, the
curtain rose and disclosed a scene in the Temple, painted bright red.
The High Priest Samuel appeared with Jonathan, and their curious
dialogue seemed most admirable to me. Shortly thereafter Saul came upon
the scene in great distress, over the insolence of the heavy-weight
warrior who had challenged him and his followers to combat. How
relieved I was when the diminutive son of Jesse sprang forth with
shepherd’s crook, wallet and sling and spoke thus: ‘Almighty King
and great Lord! Let none despair because of this. If your Majesty
will permit me, I will go forth and enter into combat with the mighty
giant.’ The first act was ended and the audience extremely desirous to
learn what would happen next,” etc., etc.
[Illustration: GERMAN PUPPET SHOW FOR CHILDREN
Designed for use in the home
[Reproduced from _Kind und Kunst_]]
The puppets may indeed boast of having delighted child geniuses of
every country and of having inspired their later years. We are told
that at the age of eleven Stanislaw Wyspianski, the great poet,
painter and dramatist of Poland, built himself a large stage or
_Crib_ imitating architecturally the Castle of Wawel. On this stage
he produced various dramas based upon the history of that royal burg,
with the help of figures which he himself invented. “Perhaps,” his
biographer suggests, “already there was germinating in his boyish soul
the idea of the Theatre-Wawel which in his manly productiveness brought
forth manifold fruits.” (L. de Schildenfeld Schiller.) In Italy, too,
we find the great dramatist Goldoni devoted to puppet play as a child
and writing dramas for the burattini which he is said to have adapted
later, with great success, for the larger stage.
Most famous, perhaps, of all popular puppets for children to-day are
the Guignols in Paris. A typical performance might be found in the
garden of the Luxembourg, where a little stage has been erected. One
has the privilege of standing outside the roped-off space with passing
pastry cooks, milliners’ girls and street urchins, or one may pay to
enter and sit down on a chair among the children and nurses. Coachmen
rein up and watch from their high perches at the curb. Polichinelle
first comes upon the stage with his piping voice, or the Director, a
doll in evening dress with waxed mustachios, welcomes the audience.
Then Guignol and the terrifying family scenes!
Mr. W. Caine has given a very illuminating analysis of the guignols.
“But who are all these people? Guignol, Guillaume, the Judge, the
Patron, the Nurse? You might know that Guignol is Guillaume’s father,
while Guillaume is the son of Guignol. The Gendarme, on the other hand,
is the Gendarme, while the Judge, similarly, is the Judge. The Patron
is none other than the Patron, and who should the Nurse be, in the
name of common sense, but the Nurse? The Gendarme is always killed,
always. The Judge expends his wrath impotently, always. The Patron is
invariably worsted, the Nurse has no sort of luck. Guignol represents
the proletariat. He wears a dark green jacket and a black hat....
His face is large and foolish, for he is what is known as a benet, a
simpleton.... He tries to give his own baby its dinner by thrusting
it head-first into a stewing pan. Guillaume wears a red hat and pink
blouse.... Guillaume is, in one word, a rascal. It is certain when once
Guillaume gets hold of a stick, or musket, or a stewing-pan (anything
will do) that somebody will bite the dust.”
The enthusiasm of the juvenile audience grows most intense over the
exploits of this favorite, and it is not unusual when Guillaume is
sore put to it and the Gendarme is about to pounce upon him, to
hear a shrill little voice from the audience cry out, ‘Take care,
Guillaume, the Gendarme is behind the door!’ When for the first time
the adventurous Guillaume ascended in an aeroplane, so great was his
success that the price of seats in the Champs Élysées went from 10
centimes to 25!!”
Guignol is often to be found during the season at bathing resorts and
at the seashore. Each of the larger shows in Paris has a portable booth
belonging to it wherein its little cast can be sent out to perform at
private entertainments. It is not uncommon for the play to be sent to
the orphans and waifs in this manner as a special treat for fête days.
We find the puppets equally beloved by the children of Italy. In _The
Marionette_ there is a sympathetic picture of a juvenile audience at
the theatre of the Lupi family in Torina. “On the evenings of ordinary
days the auditorium does not differ in aspect from that of the other
theatres. To see it in its especial beauty one must go to the Sunday
afternoon performance, when hundreds of boys and girls fill the seats
and benches, and form, in the _platea_ and the boxes, so many bouquets,
garlands of blond heads; and the variety of light bright colors of
their clothes give it the appearance of a sala decked with flowers and
flags for a fête.
“On the rising of the curtain one may say that two performances begin.
It is delightful, during a spectacular scene, to see all those eyes
wide open as at an apparition from another world--those expressions of
the most supreme amazement, in which life seems suspended--those little
mouths open in the form of an O, or of rings and semicircles--those
little foreheads corrugated as if in a tremendous effort of philosophic
cogitation, which then relax brusquely as on awaking from a dream.
Then, all at once, at a comic scene, at a funny reply or action of one
of the characters, whole rows of little bodies double up with laughter,
lines of heads are thrown back, shaking masses of curls, disclosing
little white necks, opening mouths, like little red caskets full of
minute pearls; and in the impetus of their delight some embrace their
brother or sister, some throw themselves in their mother’s arms, and
many of the smallest fling themselves back in their seats with their
legs in the air, innocently disclosing their most secret _lingerie_.
And then, to see how in the passion of admiration they furiously push
aside the importunate handkerchief which seeks their little noses, or
deal a blow without preface to whoever hides from them the view of the
stage! There are three hundred pairs of hands that applaud with all
their might, and that, among them all, do not make as much noise as
four men’s hands; one seems to see and to hear the flutter of hundreds
of rosy wings, held by so many threads to the seats.
“And the admiring and enthusiastic exclamations are a joy to hear. At
the unexpected opening of certain scenes, at the appearance of certain
lambs or little donkeys or pigs that seem alive, there are outbursts
of ‘Oh!’ and long murmurs of wonder, behind which comes almost always
some solitary exclamation of a little voice which resounds in the
silence like a sigh in a church, and ... ‘Ah, com’e bello!’ ... that
breaks from the depths of the soul, that expresses fulness of content,
a celestial beatitude.”
[Illustration: ENGLISH TOY THEATRE
_Upper_: Figures to be cut out for the Juvenile Dramas
_Lower_: Back scene for _Timour the Tartar_
[Courtesy of B. Pollock, 73 Hoxton Street, London]]
When Mr. Tony Sarg brought _The Rose and The Ring_ west it was a rare
privilege for the children of Cleveland to see this winsome puppet play
and an equal pleasure for those elders who witnessed the performance
with them. _What_ was behind the little curtain? A few boys and girls
went tiptoe up to peek. Then, listen! there is music and then, oh! the
funny little man singing a song, and oh! the long-nosed little King
snoring on his throne, and the funny soldier, Hedsoff, saluting so
briskly, and the ugly old Lady Gruffanuff! And see the Fairy Blackstick
come floating in and do things and say things to people and Princess
Angelica playing piano and dancing. How can she, so little and only a
dolly? What a fat Prince Bulbo and oh, the armoured men on horseback
fighting! (“Why ha’ dey dose knives, Mudda?” questioned one little
girl, aloud, all unacquainted with the days of Chivalry). And then the
roaring Lion! My four-year-old daughter still calls the lion a bear:
but it pleased her notwithstanding, particularly the _roar_ of it.
“Oh, I just juve Mr. Sarg’s ma-inette dolls, Mudda,” she exclaimed, a
day after the blissful event. “Why don’t we have ma-inette dolls many
times?” Why indeed, or, why not?!