A theatre in decline

Russian theatre in the last quarter of the nineteenth century was in a poor state. There were great stars of the Maly Theatre, but they were mainly of the older generation and they were surrounded by mediocrity. The monopoly of the imperial theatres was abolished in 1882. After that commercial managements threw on plays to make quick profits. As Stanislavski remarked, the theatre was controlled by barmen on one hand and bureaucrats on the other. A few brilliant individuals shone here and there.

In an unpublished manuscript Stanislavski describes a typical rehearsal period. First came the reading and the casting of the various roles. Then they had some discussion of the play but generally there wasn’t enough time for that. So the actors had to find their own way themselves. After that came the first rehearsal. It took place on the stage with a few old tables and chairs as a set. The director explained the decor: a door centre, two doors on each side etc.

At the first rehearsal the actors read their parts book in hand and the prompter was silent. The director sat on the forestage and gave his instructions to the cast.”'What should I do here?” asked one actor. “Sit on the sofa”, the director answered. “And what should I be doing?” asked another one. “You are nervous, wring your hands and walk up and down”, the director ordered. “'Can't I sit down?” the actor persisted. “How can you sit down when you are nervous?” replied the bewildered director. So the first and second acts were set.

On the next day, that was to say the second rehearsal, work continued in like manner with the third and fourth acts. The third and sometimes the fourth re­hearsal consisted of going through the whole thing again; the actors moved about the stage, memorizing the director’s instructions, reading their lines in half-voice, i.e. a whisper, gesticulating strongly in an attempt to arouse some feeling. At the next rehearsal they had to know their lines and to play without script but still at half voice. The prompter, however, worked at full voice. At the next rehearsal the actors had to play at full voice. Then dress rehearsals began with make-up, costumes and the set. Finally there was the performance.

That seemed to be a comparatively disciplined affair. But very often the actors simply took over, ignoring the director. An actress could move to the window or the fireplace for no better reason than that was what she always did. The script meant less than nothing. Sometimes the cast did not even bother to learn their lines. Leading actors could simply plant themselves downstage centre, by the prompter’s box, waiting for their lines. Then they delivered the lines straight to the audience in a ringing voice, giving a fine display of passion and “temperament”. Direct communication with other actors was minimal. Furniture was so arranged as to allow the actors to face front.

Sets were as stereotyped as the acting: wings, back-drops taken from stock, doors conventionally placed, standing isolated in space with no surrounding wall. The costumes were also “typical”. When Stanislavski attempted to have costumes made to specific designs he was told, with some asperity, that there were standard designs for character types and would continue to be. There was no sense of a need for change or renewal. The amateur theatre reflected the practice of the professional, only worse.

Wishing some models or guidance Stanislavski had to look back to the great days of the Maly Theatre when artistic standards were set by two genius men, the actor Mikhail Shchepkin and the writer Nikolai Gogol. And the actors Stanislavski so admired were impres­sive not merely because they had talent. They had been trained in the school, where the first steps had been taken towards a genuinely Russian theatre and the creation of a genuinely Russian style - Realism.