SHAKESPEARE. (1564-1912.)

Dominion, Volume 6, Issue 1572, 16 October 1912, Page 9

SHAKESPEARE. (1564-1912.)

THE VITALITY OF GENIUS,

'AND THE EVOLUTION IN STAGE ■ . .PHODUCTION.: ' ,

[By Sylvius.]

What a wonder is revealed in the contemplation nf the genius of Shakespeare —the wonder thai to-day tho Bard's plays are stdl as vital, still as "modern" as . ever they were, if one might 'iis-o the word (o express their marvellous faculty of ever .being precisely apropos of nien'aiul .Manners, human faults and failings, hopes and aspirations.' "Shakespeare yroto for all time, and said all things," wrote an authority iin, tlie world's supreme drama- ' tist. If we -in 1912 can enjoy tho stago writings of one who catered for t'he gallants of Blackfriars in the later years of the sixteenth century, and feel the point of his logic, bathe, ill the glory of. his■ fine philosophy, and bask in the shimmer of h'.s humour, they must of their transcendental virtues have a claim-on immortality. To mo the. modernity of Shakespeare is a constant source of wonder. ;In witnessing a Shakespeare 'play, more eo.than.thoso of other dramatists,-I'.can' always see likenesses to characters and draw parallels to events of "the present day. In his plays he appears to have struck-the. root-of all human character— and that -without knowing it! That, is what is most mysterious and bewildering to the thinker—thati this man, this common player, without any sign of culture ,or learning, not even distinguished in his calling, should in a few years i —the whple of his writings were covered by a : period of twenty-one years—have penned a series of plays-eminent.in literary attainment, sublime in .their emotional appeal, and .enriched with starry gems-of. thought,,'inany of .which have passed .-into common lists.*; In 21 Year*. ... . Mr. Oscar 'Asclie pointed -out-re-cently iliht Shakespeare'. wrote . quickly and 'made -mistakes.- Is the . public ' r.wiive' what a monument. William Shakespeare raised for himself in'twenty-one years? In that, period he wrote'bo fewer than thirty-six. plays (including three, completed by others after his'death in 1612). It is surprising, to learn ' that- Shakesiie.nre "wrote "Richard II;" "E'ehard 1II." ; and "Titus An- . dronicus""all' in -1593, only 'two years. l after he coriimorieed, to write at all, and that' within two "year's—ls9-1-s—he wrote "The Merchant of Venice," "Kin.tr JtilDi:" "A■. Midsummer ■ Night's Dreani,"' "All's Well lh.it Ends 'Well," iirtd v "The Taming' of the SHrew." The theatre in Shakespeare's.day'was an extremely poor andmean, sort of place, 'with'no-.great degree of ..comfort for players or' audience,' and those who "strutted and' fretted their . little honr upon the stage" were, as a general r.iile, lield ■in " contempt, and classed as little removed from rogues and And there were none prepared to admit the "bnins that sprun." from barren soil. Mr. Pepys was of opinion, tliat "The Tempest." which he saw at the Duke, of York's Playhouse, was "ail innocent .play;' no'great wit.'but.yet good, atyive ordinary, plays." .Which' ap'-. peared to bo. the general . oninion ;of Shakespeare then'(in 1GG8). Such a supers' fluity.'ns scenerv had not then been contemplated, so. that .to .extract' any enioylnent at all the playgoers of the day had to be liberally endowed with;imagination. "This isSa forest," painted on a board, .•had to conjure, iip u' picture of a leafy vale ii the. beautiful "Forest-, of Arden, and "Te IloUse" was nil the enhouivtjment ■ permissible y where the dramatist called for a domicile for his puppets.No Female Players. There were other drawbacks to daunt both tho r player iuid playwright of those days' in the far'- post. ' For long years after Shakespeare had lived women'.were not allowed on the stage,, and their .parts had to be. assumed by men: Gibber writes of Kyliastonlall'.rtcfcor:who was famous in hits-day in; female parts:- r■ '• . "Though- women, wero'vnot admitted to, the-stage tili the return of-King,- Charles; yet' it'-Icould ■ not be-, so. .suddenly, .supplied: with'itlicm. vbut that .there was still a necessity for some time to-put the hundw)mest young men into petticoats, .which Kynaston was 'their said, to have : worn, with> great,' Success; -particularly in the part-of Evadne -in the 'Maid's Tragedy,'> which,-1 have neard him; speak of, and which calls to ray mind a ridiculous dis-v tress that arose from, these;, sort, of shifts which' the stage was then put to. The Jving,, coming a Utile, before his. usual, time to a-' tragedy, found the 'actors' not ready to begin, when his-Majesty,- not choosing to have as much patience as his good subjects, '.sent to them .to know the. meaning of it; upon which, the master of. the company came to the. box, and, rights ly judging that the best .excuse for their default: would be the true one, fairly told his'vMajesty that-the Queen j. was 'not. shaved yet. The King, Whose good humour loved to laugh at a-jest, as well-as, to--make one, accepted the excuse, which' served-to divert him until-...tlie --.Queen could be effeminated. In a word, ICynas-. ton, at that time, was so beautiful a youth that ladies of quality'prided themselves in taking him ..with them in their coaches to Hyde Park in his theatrical habit fifter .the play, which'in those days they uiiglit have sufficient' time to do because ; plays . theii' used to begin at <1 o'clock. ... Even at 60 his (Kynaston's) teeth 'were sound, white, and even,' and as one would wish to see in ,a reigning toast of twenty. He had something of a formal gravity in his mien, -which was attributed to the stately step he had been so-early confined to in a female decency." New Lamps-for Old. ■••• , It is a very- far cry from the little dark caudle-lit bams of the sixteenth and early seventeenth century to . the modern theatre with its cleanliness, comfort, and convenience, but a greater contrast is surely that between the primitive, performances of those days, and the productions of Mr. Oscar Asche, where electric arc lights-flood the, stage with artificial sunshine; which the glittering caudles of the old Blackfriars Theatre could hardly do, when exquisitely-painted scenery, true to niodel and colour, executedwith mast-, eriy artistry, replaces tho de&l-board labelled "Ye Oldo -House," and sweet music by an orchestra of skilled players assists the delightful illusion. Still, there must, have been merit—and a. good deal of it—in those actors of old, for they held their audiences, and attracted even Kings and nobility to their dingy playhouses by the art they so enthusiastically practiced, and that, with the smallest encouragement monetarily. It is. well to recall "the poor players" whoso existence created,a Shakespeare; well to remember at times, too,' to judge nothing"..hastily— . that which is new-fangled fudge .to-day may be hailed as the. work of a genius tomorrow.., The opportunity of seeing, such plays as "The. Merchant of Venice," "Othello," and "The Merry Wives of Windsor" in., Wellington, during the'next few. days is perhaps an excuse for a little retrospective homage to those who plough,ed a,lonely furrow.in the earlier dramatic fields, and to him '.who-has.illumined a world from the'storehouse of his mind.