Theatre in Eighteenth Century France II: Theatre Spaces, Staging, Design, Acting

A revolution of sorts went on in the practical side of theatre as well in eighteenth century France, in theatre architecture, staging, design and acting.

In 1700 there were only two “legitimate” or licensed theatres in Paris (similar to the situation in London); the Opéra, which had a monopoly on sung drama, and the Comédie Française, which had a monopoly on spoken drama in French.  But they weren’t the only places in Paris where one could see theatre.  Fairs in and around

the city nearly always featured short commedia style pieces mixed with other variety entertainments.  There was also a place called the Opéra Comique, where unique entertainments were performed. No dialogue could be sung, for that would be recitative, which was reserved for grand opera; and no dialogue could be spoken in French, because that could only happen at the Comédie Française. So the inventive artists of the Opéra Comique sang arias, and to keep the story line going, printed rhymed explanatory couplets on placards.  Boys dressed as cupids held them, and these boys were flown in and suspended above the action on stage – one way to get around licenses and patents and such!

      

In 1716 an Italian troupe of actors was invited back to Paris. You may remember that such a troupe had played Paris regularly in the

This is not the original location, but there is still
a Comédie Italienne in Paris

17^th century until Louis XIV decided he didn’t want them in France any more.  They performed plays in Italian, obviously, until after 1721, when they also began performing some plays in French, including pieces by Marivaux.  Just as in England, then, although “legitimate” theatres supposedly had a monopoly on drama, other theatrical activity found ways to be presented, and to expand the world of theatre.

      

eighteenth century French theatres looked very similar to eighteenth century English theatres.  Both used the pit, box and gallery system for audiences.  On stage, as the century progressed, the French pushed back their forestage as the English had, centering most of the action within the scenic stage.  Cutting back the forestage made more room for audience seating, and more room was needed.  In France as in England, theatre auditoriums grew ludicrously larger in the eighteenth century. 

You might say it grew a little from the tiny one depicted in the image of the space in 1726!

The French removed spectators from their pretentious onstage seats in 1759.  In fact, as I noted in an earlier lecture, David Garrick got the idea to remove fops from the sides of the English

stage when he was on a trip to France in the 1760s.  However,

whereas the British had placed benches in the pit as early as the 1660s, the French kept its parterre flat and “standing-room-only” until 1782.  But it seems a standing parterre was more active than a seated parterre, and forces were at work to silence the noise and audience participation from the standees in the pit. The first step was to post guards in the parterre in order to keep the audience quiet and calm.  While some rejoiced at this, listen to what Diderot had to say:

“Fifteen years ago our theatres were tumultuous places.  The coldest heads became heated on entering and sensible men more or less shared the transports of madmen.  There was movement, bustle, and pushing; the soul was beside itself.  I know of no frame of mind more favorable to the poet…when a fine passage arrived there was an incredible din…The infatuation swept from the pit to the amphitheatre, and from the amphitheatre to the boxes. People…went away in a state of drunkenness.  Some went to brothels, others went into polite society.  That is enjoyment!  Today, they arrive coldly, they listen coldly, they leave coldly...”

At any rate, the re-furbished Comédie Française opened with benches in the parterre in 1782.  But the playwright Mercier echoed Diderot: 

“No sooner was the audience made to sit down during performances, than it fell into a lethargy…the electric contact between stage and pit has been broken...”

These anecdotes have something to say about the participatory nature of the theatre, about the communication between actor and audience, and that to some authority figures, such participation and communication might be considered dangerous.

      

In the French theatres the auditoriums moved from rectangular boxes into curved “horseshoe” shaped spaces.  (See the image above of the Comédie Française in the late eighteenth century above.) This rounding out helped sightlines, and also increased numbers of available seats. Behind the proscenium arch, theatres 

in the early years of the century were small, relatively uncomplicated spaces.  The old Hôtel de Bourgogne had been using the same scenic techniques for nearly a century.  Neoclassical plays needed only one set, as they were bound by unity of place. However, the move throughout the century was towards more complicated settings and changes of scene, especially for plays written in the mode of specific and exotic locales, such as the tragedies popularized by Voltaire.  A new kind of setting, angled scenery, was introduced in Paris by a designer brought in from Italy named Servandoni (1695-1766). We’ll define angled scenery (scena per angolo) when we get to Italy, but for now let’s say that the popularity of the new form quickly made Servandoni the hottest designer in eighteenth century France.

Lighting was very similar to that described in the earlier lecture on eighteenth century England. Much more money began to be spent on candles and oil lamps, and of course wicks had to be trimmed for safety and to ensure that candles would not go out mid-performance. Thus the image above of a masked candle snuffer during performance. One of the primary reasons for intermissions was so that chandeliers could be lowered so that candles in them could be worked on. Even so, hot wax dripping on audience members, particularly those in the parterre, was not uncommon. And of course all this open flame resulted in disastrous fires.

Costumes were dealt with much as they were in England:  contemporary clothing for most plays, and habit à la Romaine remained the style in plays with classical subjects. Some attempt was made to create “oriental” costumes to match the new, exotic

settings, though one historian has claimed that the clothing for Voltaire’s play The Orphan of China looked more Turkish than Chinese.  The stars, of course, wore pretty much what they wanted, no matter where or when the play was set.  At about mid-century, Mlle Clairon got rid of the hoops (panieres) that were the height of fashion, and also argued against wearing the outrageous piles of hair on stage, particularly in classical roles.  In addition, she stopped using the white, mask-like make-up that had been popular on the stage, in favor of a more “natural” look.

Now to performance. As in England, French acting featured a mixture of styles, from bombast to “natural,” very like the contrast between Quin and Garrick.  But, again, don’t confuse “natural” with Stanislavskian realism.

Interestingly, one of the oldest actors was responsible for the more “natural” style in France.  Michel Baron, who’d been the greatest tragic actor in France towards the end of the seventeenth century, came out of retirement from 1720-1729.  Baron, now in his 70s, was able to influence some young French players towards a more “realistic” style than was usual on eighteenth century French stages.

      

One of Baron’s finest pupils was the lovely, frail and doomed Adrienne LeCouvreur (1692-1730). While her personal life was controversial, she was tremendously popular in the tragedies of

Racine and Corneille as well as serious contemporary plays, LeCouvreur died suddenly and under mysterious circumstances (possibly having been poisoned) in Voltaire’s arms.  The church refused her burial on sanctified ground, as it had with Molière. When they wanted to, clergy could still call on ancient church law that excommunicated actors, and did on occasion.  Voltaire lashed out in print against the hypocrisy of the Church in general and its prejudice against actors specifically after Adrienne LeCouvreur died.  It was not until the end of the century that actors gained equal rights.  The French Revolution saw to that!

      

Later in the century, Mlle Dumesnil (1713-1803) and Mlle Clairon (1723-1803), considered the finest actresses, were also 

great rivals. Clairon was admitted to the Comédie Française in 1743 as the understudy to Dumesnil, who was considered at that time THE great tragedienne. But Clairon soon became Dumesnil’s rival in fame.  A great argument ensued over whose style was better, and some of the great writers of the day took sides. The basic difference was that Dumesnil was uneven on stage, but that she offered audiences flashes of astonishing brilliance.  A writer took note of a particularly inspired moment one evening, when, while playing Cleopatra, Dumesnil offered the audience

“a more than usual degree of that fiery energy for which she was so distinguished...the persons who occupied the front rows of the pit, instinctively drew back, shrinking, as it were, from her terrific [gaze]!” 

Clairon on the other hand was much more consistent, uniformly fine in her work, though she never quite reached Dumesnil’s inspired flashes.  Steady technique versus inspired flashes? Probably best to have a mix of both.  Ultimately, the verdict of the writers was that Clairon was superior (Diderot, Voltaire and even David Garrick on his trip to France thought so); but their votes did not stop Dumesnil from having a fine career.  Clairon, as I’ve noted, was an early advocate for more accuracy in costuming. 

Clairon’s frequent leading man was Lekain (1729-1778). He

served a long apprenticeship in the theatre, but gradually came to be considered the greatest tragic actor of his age.  Lekain strove for greater realism in his acting.  Voltaire claimed that Lekain’s performances were responsible for the success of that writer’s tragedies, more Voltaire’s writing of them. 

At the very end of the century, one of the finest actors was 

Francois-Joseph Talma (1763-1826).  His career mirrored the 

strange twists and turns that France took moving into and out of 

the Revolution.  Shortly before the Revolution, Talma shocked audiences by playing a small role in Voltaire’s Brutus not in habit a la Romaine (which the rest of the actors were wearing), but in an authentic looking toga (heaven forbid!).  During the Revolution, Talma left the Comédie Française with other dissident actors to perform a more revolutionary kind of theatre.  Ironically, one of Talma’s biggest fans was Napoleon, and the actor became one of the emperor’s greatest admirers.  Talma managed to survive from the ancien regime, thru the Revolution, to the authoritarian regime of Napoleon. By bridging all these political changes, Talma was also able to bridge the move from Neoclassical acting into a new style, that would come to be called Romantic. More of that movement soon. 

Wearing emotion on your sleeve, or face...eighteenth century acting!

Next time, theatre in eighteenth century Italy!