A poor thing, my masters, not the real thing at all, a base
imitation, but still a good enough mock-orange, if you cannot
have the real thing.--OLD PLAY.
Some of our opulent citizens in the West, particularly in that
wondrous city Chicago, which is nearer to Aladdin's Lamp than anything
else I have seen, have built private theatres in their palaces. This
is taking time by the forelock, and arranging for a whole family of
coming histrionic geniuses.
When all the arrangements for private theatricals must be
improvised,--and, indeed, it is a greater achievement to play in a
barn than on the best stage,--the following hints may prove
serviceable.
Wherever the amateur actor elects to play, he must consider the
extraneous space behind the acting arena necessary for his exits and
entrances, and his theatrical properties. In an ordinary house the
back parlour, with two doors opening into the dining-room, makes an
ideal theatre, for the exits can be masked and the space is especially
useful. At least one door opening into another room is absolutely
necessary, if no better arrangement can be made. The best stage, of
course, is like that of a theatre, raised, with space at the back and
sides, for the players to retire to, and issue from. But if nothing
better can be managed, a pair of screens and a curtain will do.
It is hardly necessary to say that all these arrangements depend on
the requirements of the play and its legitimate business, which may
demand a table, a bureau, a piano, or a bed. That very funny piece
"Box and Cox" needs nothing but a bed, a table, and a fireplace. And
here we would say to the youthful actor, Select your play at first
with a view to its requiring little change of scene, and not much
furniture. A young actor needs space. He is embarrassed by too many
chairs and tables. Then choose a play which has so much varied
incident that it will play itself.
The first thing is to build the stage. Any carpenter will lay a few
stout boards on end pieces, which are simply squared joists, and for
very little money will take away the boards and joists afterwards, so
that a satisfactory stage can be built for a few dollars. Sometimes,
ingenious boys build their own stage with a few boxes, but this is apt
to be dangerous. Very few families are without an old carpet which
will serve for a stage covering; and if this is lacking, green baize
is very cheap. A whole stage fitting, curtains and all, can be made of
green baize.
Footlights may be made of tin, with bits of candle put in; or a row of
old bottles of equal height, with candles stuck in the mouth, make a
most admirable and cheap set of footlights.
The curtain is always difficult to arrange, especially in a parlour. A
light wooden frame should be made by the carpenter,--firm at the
joints, and as high as the room allows. Attached to the stage, at the
foot, this frame forms three sides of a square. The curtain must be
firmly nailed to the top piece. A stiff wire should be run along the
lower edge of the curtain, and a number of rings attached to the back
of it, in squares,--three rows, of four rings each, extending from top
to bottom. Three cords are now fastened to the wire, and passing
through the rings are run over three pulleys on the upper piece of the
frame. It is well for all young managers of garret theatres to get up
one of these curtains, even with the help of an upholsterer, as the
other draw-curtain never works so securely, and often hurts the
_dénouement_ of the play. When the drop curtain above described is
used, one person holds all the strings, and it pulls together.
Now for the stage properties. They are easily made. A boy who can
paint a little will indicate a scene, with black paint, on a white
ground; tinsel paper, red flannel, and old finery will supply the
fancy dresses.
A stage manager who is a natural born leader is indispensable. Certain
ambitious amateurs performed the opera of "Patience" in New York. It
would have been a failure but for the musical talent of the two who
took the title _rôles_, and the diligent six weeks' training which the
players received at the hand of the principal actor in the real
operetta. This seems very dear for the whistle, when one can go and
hear the real tune. It is in places where the real play cannot be
heard, that amateur theatricals are of importance.
Young men at college get up the best of all amateur plays, because
they are realistic, and stop at nothing to make strong outlines and
deep shadows. They, too, buy many properties like wigs and dresses,
and give study and observation to the make-up of the character.
If they need a comic face they have an artist from the theatre put it
on with a camel's-hair pencil. An old man's face, or a brigand's is
only a bit of water-colour. A pretty girl can be made out of a heavy
young man by rouge, chalk, and a blond wig. For a drunkard or a
villain, a few purple spots are painted on chin, cheek, forehead and
nose, judiciously.
Young girls are apt, in essaying private theatricals, to sacrifice too
much to prettiness. This is a fatal mistake; one must even sacrifice
native bloom if the part requires it, or put on rouge, if necessary.
As amusement is the object, the plays had better be comedy than
tragedy; and no such delicate wordy duels as the "Scrap of Paper,"
should be attempted, as that requires the highest skill of two great
actors.
After reading the part and committing the lines to memory, young
actors must submit to many and long rehearsals. After many of these
and much study, they must not be discouraged if they grow worse
instead of better. Perseverance conquers all things, and at last they
reach the dress rehearsal. This is generally a disappointment, and
time should be allowed for two dress rehearsals. It is a most
excellent and advantageous discouragement, if it leads the actors to
more study.
The stage manager has a difficult _rôle_ to play, for he may discover
that his actors must change parts. This nearly always excites a
wounded self-love, and ill-feeling. But each one should bear in mind
that he is only a part of a perfect whole, and be willing to sacrifice
himself.
If, however, plays are not successful and cease to amuse, the amateur
stage can be utilized for _tableaux vivants_, which are always pretty,
and may be made very artistic. The principle of a picture, the
pyramidal form, should be closely observed in a tableau.
There should be a square of black tarletan or gauze nailed before the
picture, between the players and the footlights. The drop curtain
must be outside of this, and go up and down very carefully, at a
concerted signal.
Although the pure white light of candles, or lime light, is the best
for such pictures, very pretty effects can be easily made by the
introduction of coloured lights, such as are produced by the use of
nitrate of strontia, chlorate of potash, sulphuret of antimony,
sulphur, oxymuriate of potassa, metallic arsenic, and pulverized
charcoal. Muriate of ammonia makes a bluish-green fire, and many
colours can be obtained by a little study of chemistry.
To make a red fire, take five ounces of nitrate of strontia dry, and
one and a half ounces finely powdered sulphur; also five drachms
chlorate of potash, and four drachms sulphuret of antimony. Powder the
last two separately in a mortar, then mix them on paper and having
mixed the other ingredients, previously powdered, add these last and
rub the whole together on paper. To use, mix a little spirits of wine
with the powder, and burn in a flat iron plate or pan; the effect is
excellent on the picture.
Sulphate of copper when dissolved in water turns it a beautiful blue.
The common red cabbage gives three colours. Slice the cabbage and pour
boiling water on it. When cold add a small quantity of alum, and you
have purple. Potash dissolved in the water will give a brilliant
green. A few drops of muriatic acid will turn the cabbage water into
crimson. Put these various coloured waters in globes, and with candles
behind them they will throw the light on the picture.
Again, if a ghastly look be required, and a ghost scene be in order,
mix common salt with spirits of wine in a metal cup, and set it upon
a wire frame over a spirit lamp. When the cup becomes heated, and the
spirits of wine ignites, the other lights in the room should be
extinguished, and that of the spirit lamp hidden from the observer. A
light will be produced that will make the players seem like the
witches in Macbeth, "that look not like the inhabitants of the earth,
but yet are of it."
The burning of common salt produces a very weird effect; for salt has
properties other than the conservative, preserving, hospitable
qualities which legend and the daily needs of mankind have ascribed to
it.
A very pretty effect for Christmas Eve may be made by throwing these
lights on the highly decorated tree. A set of Christmas tableaux can
be arranged, giving groups of the early Christians going into the
Catacombs as the Pagans are going out, with a white shaft of light
making a cross between them. A picture representing the Christmas of
each nationality can be made, as for instance the Russian, the
Norwegian, the Dane, the Swede, the German, the English of three
hundred years ago. These are all possible to a family in which are
artistic boys and girls.
The grotesque is lost in a tableau where there seems to be an æsthetic
need of the heroic, the refined, and the historic. A double action may
be represented with good effect, and here can be used the coloured
lights. Angels above, for instance, can well be in another colour than
sleeping children below.
To return for a moment to the first use of the stage, the play. It is
a curious thing to see the plays which amateurs act well. The "Rivals"
is one of these, and so is "Everybody's Friend." "The Follies of a
Night" plays itself, and "The Happy Pair" goes very well. "A Regular
Fix," one of Sothern's plays, is exceptionally funny, as is "The
Liar," in which poor Lester Wallack was so very good. "Woodcock's
Little Game," too, is excellent.
Cheap and unsophisticated theatricals, such as schoolboys and girls
can get up in the garret or the basement, are those which give the
most pleasure. But so strong is the underlying love of the drama that
youth and maid will attempt the hard and sometimes discouraging work,
even in cities where professional work is so very much better.
The private amateur player should study to be accurate as to costume.
Pink-satin Marie Antoinette slippers must not be worn with a Greek
dress; classic sandals are easily made.
It is an admirable practice to get up a play in French. It helps to
conquer the _délicatesse_ of the language. The French _répertoire_ is
very rich in easily acted plays, which any French teacher can
recommend.
Imitation Negro minstrels are funny, and apt to be better than the
original. A funny man, a mimic, one who can talk in various dialects,
is a precious boon to an amateur company. Many of Dion Boucicault's
Irish characters can be admirably imitated.
In this connection, why not call in the transcendent attraction of
music? Now that we have lady orchestras, why not have them on the
stage, or let them be asked to play occasional music between the acts,
or while the tableaux are on? It adds a great charm.
The family circle in which the brothers have learned the key bugle,
cornet, trombone, and violoncello, and the sisters the piano and harp,
and the family that can sing part songs are to be envied. What a
blessing in the family is the man who can sing comic songs, and who
does not sing them too often.
A small operetta is often very nicely done by amateurs. We need not
refer to the lamented "Pinafore," but that sort of thing. Would that
Sir Arthur would write another "Pinafore!" but, alas! there was never
but one.
A private theatre is a great addition to a large country house, and it
can be made cheaply and well by a modern architect. It can be used as
a ballroom on off evenings, as a dining-room, or for any other
gathering.
Nothing can be more improving for young people than to study a play.
Observe the expressions of the Oberammergau peasants, their
intellectual and happy faces, "informed with thought," and contrast
them with the faces of the German and Bavarian peasants about them.
Their old pastor, Deisenberg, by training them in poetry and
declamation, by founding his well-written play on their old
traditions, by giving them this highly improving recreation for their
otherwise starved lives, made another set of human beings of them.
They have a motive in life besides the mere gathering in of a
livelihood.
So it would be in any country neighbourhood, however rustic and
remote, if some bright woman would assemble the young people at her
house and train them to read and recite, lifting their young souls
above vulgar gossip, and helping them to understand the older
dramatists, to even attempt Shakspeare. Funny plays might be thrown in
to enliven the scene, but there should be a good deal of earnest work
inculcated as well. Music, that most divine of all the arts, should be
assiduously cultivated. All the Oberammergau school-masters must be
musicians, and all the peasants learn how to sing. What a good thing
it would be if our district school-teachers should learn how to teach
their scholars part songs.
When the art of entertaining has reached its apotheosis, we feel
certain that we can have this influence emanating from every opulent
country house, and that there will be no more complaint of dulness.