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Marionettes, masks and shadows

Chapter 28: CHAPTER VIII Lighting Your Stage
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About This Book

A practical manual and introduction to puppet theatre that combines a concise history of puppet, mask, and shadow traditions with step-by-step instructions for building stages, marionettes, masks, scenery, and props. It offers guidance on lighting, training performers, and presenting productions, and explains techniques for cut-out and human shadow plays, pantomime, music, and dance. Illustrated diagrams, sample plays and production photographs support the how-to material, with a bibliography and index.

Scenes from the Marionette play, "Men of Iron."

Few things will show your judgment and good taste more than your scenery, which must be first, last, and always, a background for the marionettes. This means that it must be either lighter or darker than the puppets, so that they can be seen against it. It must be so simple that the eye can follow the marionette easily, and not be lost in the detail of the background, which will happen if there are too many colors, and the colors are not of the same value. The scenery should not be an end in itself, but should be a beautiful setting for the marionettes, and by its fitness give an added sense of the beauty of your play.

How to pull your curtains. Attach central ring of one curtain at A and the central ring of the other at B. Pulling string C closes the curtains, while D opens them.

So far we have not thought of the frame for our stage, which is called the proscenium, nor have we spoken of the stage curtains. These are important because they are what might be called an introduction to the play. If they strike the right note, they may even hold the thread of interest between the acts. It is usual to have a contrast between the proscenium and the curtains, and between the proscenium and the several settings of the play. If your play has several brightly lighted scenes, you will probably find that a gray proscenium with a very simple, appropriate design looks much better than a brightly colored one with elaborate designs. Use the same good taste in framing your stage picture as you would in framing any other picture. Grays, yellows, and dull gold are always pleasing. The best material to use for the curtains is unbleached muslin. Because it takes dye so beautifully, it sometimes comes to have the look of the richest old velvet. It should be thoroughly soaked in hot water and then rubbed between the hands before dipping in the dye bath. The selvedges should be gathered together and then the entire piece should be wrung out. The dye bath should be ready. If you wish a plain color you may dip the entire piece, usually four yards, two for each curtain, at one time. If, however, you wish to have the curtains darker at the bottom than at the top, you must allow the lower part to remain longer in the dye bath. As you gain experience in dyeing, you may wish to use two or even three different dyes for your curtains. The curtains for Sigurd, the Volsung, kept the same color symbolism as the costumes. The upper part was yellow to symbolize the wisdom of Odin, running into orange to symbolize the home ties of the Volsung line, and into deep red at the bottom, symbolizing the valor and courage of the hero, Sigurd. The curtains for Men of Iron were red at the top to symbolize the valor of Myles, then purple to symbolize the royal blood of the Mackworths, black at the bottom to symbolize the deceit, overthrow, and death of the Earl of Alban. Until you have acquired skill in dyeing it is best to hold to very simply colored curtains. These may be either in harmony with or in contrast to the color you have chosen for the proscenium. The curtains should never be ironed. They should be smoothed out with the hands, when the muslin is still very damp, then hung up to dry. Hem carefully at the top and bottom, fold into pleats at the top. Small brass rings should then be sewed on to every pleat for the curtain strings to pass through. To the bottom of the curtain small dress weights should be fastened every five or six inches just under each curtain ring. Crease the folds with your hands. Your curtain may come to have its own way of looking just right—of behaving properly when it has its part to do, and may add the last note of craftsmanship and perfection to your scenery.

CHAPTER VII
Making Your Properties

Puppets usually require a few well-chosen properties. These should be in scale with the puppets, and serve some practical need. Properties should be similar to the things used in the time of your play, in the country of your play, and by the class or classes of people represented in your play.

It is well to be familiar with the life, customs, and manners of the people who lived at the time of your play. The library, historical museum, and art museum are sources of information. First, there is the library in which there are always books and pictures and a wealth of information for your use. Take several pieces of tracing paper with you when you go there, also several well-sharpened pencils, and your colored crayons. When you find a suitable illustration, make a sketch or a tracing of it and careful color notes.

Let us suppose that you are about to make the properties for Men of Iron. Take the story and from it make a list of the properties that you will need. You will probably make a list somewhat like this:

Act I—Courtyard. Properties required:

1.
Bench for the squires to sit upon and later for Myles to stand upon.
2.
An upright post, or pell, to be used by Myles when he practises with his sword.
3.
An anvil to be placed in the armorer’s shop.
4.
A ball for Myles.

Act II—Garden. Properties required:

1.
Garden seat for Lady Anne to sit upon when she plays her lute.
2.
A lute for Lady Anne.
3.
A ball for Myles.

Act III—Great Hall. Properties required:

1.
Throne for the king to sit upon.
2.
A dais for the throne to rest upon.
3.
A seat for the minstrel.
4.
A carved oak chest, such as was usually seen in the great halls.
5.
Royal carpet.
6.
Hangings for the ladies’ gallery.
7.
A lute for the minstrel.

Act IV—The tournament. Properties required:

1.
A royal box.
2.
A fence.

The bench in Scene I was made of wood and was a copy of a picture of an English XVth Century bench.

Sometimes there are properties and effects that take special ingenuity and skill. Many boys have unusual ability in solving these problems. In the first scene of Men of Iron an anvil was needed. One boy asked to be responsible for the anvil. There was a miniature anvil in the classroom that had been used the year before by the class that had given Sigurd, the Volsung. Now, what did he do? First, he drilled two holes into the top of the anvil and placed a strip of mica on the iron between the holes. Then he attached a thin coil of wire, about the size of that in an electric toaster, screwed it down into the holes, where it met the charged wires which came up through the holes in the anvil. When the current was turned on, the coil glowed red. This boy also made a hammer, which he fastened in the hand of the puppet armorer. From the hammer a long wire stretched upward to the controller, and then down behind the scenes to the socket. When the armorer struck the anvil with his hammer, brilliant sparks flew in every direction. Care was taken to strike the broad surface of the anvil top and to avoid striking the coil of wire. You will notice that he placed the mica and coil close to the edge, in order to give the armorer plenty of room for the strokes of his hammer.

The garden bench in Act II was made by a pupil who had made a special study of gardens. When one of the boys found that a lute was needed for this scene, he went to the art museum where he had the good fortune to find two lutes, a large one and a small one, both of Italian make. He then went to the historical museum where he found pictures of similar lutes used in England, in the time of his play. He now decided to use the large lute in the museum as a model for the lute of his minstrel, and the smaller one for Lady Alice. He then made careful drawings to scale, proceeded to carve the instruments from wood, and to stain them, and enrich them with gold. When they were finished, with the little detail of strings, they were such an exquisite note of perfection that they added much to the beauty of the scene, and gave a thrill of delight to all who saw them.

In Act III, a Gothic throne and a Gothic chest were needed. The boy who was responsible for these went to the art museum to look for Gothic furniture. He found a Gothic chest, and adapted its proportions and design to both the throne and the chest. He copied a XVth Century stool for the minstrel to sit upon. The carpet and hangings for this scene were made from large scraps of rich crimson velvet given by a generous upholsterer.

In Act IV, the royal box was historically true, as it was made from drawings of a royal box found in an old illuminated manuscript. It was constructed from wood and beaver board. Tapestries hung from the front of the box and pennants from tall poles at the corners.

Sometimes, when scenery has been especially well designed, it makes properties almost unnecessary. For instance, in the throne room of King Elf in Sigurd, the Volsung the background is a dark, richly colored tapestry. Against this was placed the throne on a raised dais. With this single property the scene was a satisfying picture. When the three fair-haired maidens, dressed in white and gold, with flowing veils of pale rose, came to present the baby Sigurd to King Elf, it was a lovely picture.

The materials used for making properties are usually wood, cardboard, tacks, glue, ½-inch linen or cotton tape, papier-mâché, gesso, and paints. The tools needed are hammer, coping saw, scissors, and a sharp knife. Drawings should be kept before the worker for constant reference. They are his guide for proportion, design, and scale.

Accidents are as likely to happen in puppet families and at puppet parties as they are to happen in our homes and at our own parties. If the chairs are unsteady and the tables too light, they may cause trouble and embarrassment. Think what might have happened at Bob Kratchet’s Christmas party in Charles Dickens’ Christmas Carol, when all the puppets sat down to the well-laden table, if some thought had not been given to making it secure. How do you imagine this was done? The table and all the chairs were glued to a large piece of cardboard. When the scene was set, this was placed on the stage. In the time of Bob Kratchet, just as in our own time, houses contained many pieces of furniture and other things of daily use. Imagine what would happen, if we made all the properties that are mentioned in the story and then tried to crowd them on to the stage. There would be no room for the puppets to move about in. Our eyes would be confused with details and the picture would be ruined. Here is a list of the properties that were chosen by the group of children who gave The Childhood of David Copperfield:

Act I.
Sitting room in the Copperfield house
 
An armchair for Peggoty
 
A table for Peggoty and work basket
 
Stool for little David
 
Curtains for the windows
Act II.
In the boathouse
 
A chair for Peggoty
 
A chair for Mrs. Gummage
 
A table for Peggoty’s work basket and balls of bright-colored wool.
 
A chest for David and Emily to sit upon
 
A small box for Ham
 
A chest of drawers, on top of the drawers a tray, teapot, two cups, and saucers
 
Curtains for the windows
Act III.
The seashore
 
A log for David to sit upon
 
A large rock for Emily to sit upon
 
Two or three small rocks to complete the picture
Act IV.
The schoolroom
 
Six benches for the schoolboys
 
Two desks, one for the master, one for his assistant
 
Two chairs
 
Books for the desks
Act V.
Betsy Trotwood’s garden
 
A long bench where David rested
 
A large kite for old Master Dick
 
Three or four flower pots to complete the picture

Nearly all properties need some decoration. Some need color, others need merely stain. Occasionally it is necessary to give the effect of carved wood. This is necessary in plays of the Middle Ages like Sigurd, the Volsung, and Men of Iron, where your properties represent old wood carving. Gesso may be used to suggest this carving. Gesso was used by the craftsmen of the Middle Ages, especially in Italy, for enriching surfaces. This is the formula for making it: 2 tablespoons of varnish, 12 tablespoons of glue (best quality), 8 tablespoons of linseed oil. Mix these three ingredients together and allow to stand. In a separate dish put 20 rounded tablespoons full of whiting and then mix with water until it is the consistency of thick cream. Pour this into your first mixture and cook in a double boiler for ten minutes, stirring constantly. Then pour into a bottle and cork tightly. The gesso is now ready for use.

Work out your design and then draw it carefully upon the chair, chest, or throne which you mean to decorate. Apply the gesso with a small brush. Be very careful to keep well within the line of your design. The gesso will give you a pattern in relief. You must keep each surface flat for at least 12 hours, or until dry. If the design is not high enough when it is dry, a second coat may be applied. When you have covered all the parts which are to be painted and the gesso is dry, rub it over with a bit of oil paint mixed in these proportions: ¾ of ivory black, ¼ of burnt sienna thinned with a little turpentine. After the oil paint has dried, add a coat of dull finishing wax and rub down.

A fountain is a most effective and beautiful device. When placed in a garden, surrounded by miniature ferns and flowers, with birds singing, and soft colored lights playing upon its jetting water, it makes a scene of enchantment. Fountains are very simply made as you can see in this illustration. A low cake tin, with a hollow tin centerpiece, a funnel, and a piece of ¾-inch rubber tubing about six feet long, are the only materials necessary.

Occasionally there is a need for smoke. In the play of Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp, the genii appear out of a cloud of smoke. In Sigurd, the Volsung, the dragon may be made to breathe forth smoke. In the Adventures of Alice, you may remember the old caterpillar who sits on a toadstool and smokes his pipe. Smoke can be made from ammonia and hydrochloric acid. The illustration shows how this is done. In order to make the dragon breathe forth smoke, a rubber tube was run through its body from mouth to tail. The end that extended from the tail was connected with the tube that came from the bottles. When a boy blew through the tube, smoke came from the dragon’s mouth. In the marionette play of Aladdin and His Wonderful Lamp, a hole was bored through the stage floor at the spot where the genie was to appear. At the clap of thunder that announced the genie’s appearance, a cloud of smoke poured forth.

In the Adventures of Alice, when the caterpillar was made, a tube was run through his body from tail to mouth. When this tube was attached to the bottle tube, and the lazy old fellow took his pipe in his mouth, he appeared to blow out great puffs of smoke to the surprise and delight of everyone.

The toadstool was such a nice property that you may wish to know how it was constructed. The girl who made it found some beautiful pictures of toadstools in an old number of the National Geographic. She chose one of interesting shape and color as her model, and reproduced it with papier-mâché. When it was quite dry, she colored it to represent the illustration. It was winter time when this play was given. Had it been any other season, she could have gone to the woods and fields and searched out a beautiful specimen which would have served her purpose much better than the illustration.

Fireplaces and stoves are comparatively modern inventions. Braziers were used in earlier times. They consisted of a metal tripod and a basin to hold the coals. A brazier could be used appropriately in a Greek or Roman play, or in a play of the Middle Ages. The tripod could be made of wire or of tin. The basin could be made of tin, wood, or papier-mâché. Both the tripod and the basin should be painted to imitate bronze or iron. A tiny red bulb can be fastened into the center of the basin, and attached to a wire leading down from the tripod, through the stage floor. Slightly conceal the bulb with small bits of wood. The warm light from this brazier will throw a glow on the face of a marionette, who is warming his hands over it.

A marionette may carry a lantern. This marionette lantern may be made from any small tin or cardboard box. Find some pictures of old lanterns suitable for your play, and then make a lantern as much like the illustration as you can. A pattern of holes should be punched in the sides. A tiny electric bulb may be fastened inside the lantern and its wire carried up to the controller and from there to the battery.

Properties should be made in a craftsmanlike way. A craftsman respects his materials and his tools. He cleans his brushes and palette as soon as he finishes the work of the day, and puts his materials in order for the next day’s work. He never hurries. His reward is his satisfaction in the excellence of his work.

CHAPTER VIII
Lighting Your Stage

Let us imagine that we are seated in a dimly lighted theater. The signal rings. The curtains open and what do we see? People. What makes them visible? Light. What makes the color? Light. What makes the interesting shadows? Light. It is light that does all these things, makes the picture visible and carries our thoughts and feelings into the play which is about to begin.

By what means is all this done? By means of footlights, overhead lights, movable strips of lights, and movable spotlights. A few years ago every stage was lighted by footlights only. These lights threw a crude glare on to the faces of the actors and sometimes made large ugly shadows on the back drop. Later, when overhead lights were used with footlights, there were no shadows at all. This was equally bad. The majority of people did not seem to mind this, but when certain artists went to the theater, they began to ask themselves whether there might not be some way of remedying the glare of the footlights and of managing the shadows. These artists began to experiment. They made little stages, took the footlights away, and began, by means of arc lights, to light their stages indirectly. They began to use movable spotlights behind the scenes, and to fasten lights on to strips of wood and place these strips wherever they felt they were necessary.

They made further experiments. They covered their lights with pieces of different colored silks and gelatine. This not only removed the glare of the lights but produced new and very interesting effects. Next they turned to Nature and began to observe how she produced her wonderful effects. They discovered that these usually came in the soft light of early morning and late evening, in twilight and moonlight, and not in the strong garish light of mid-day. With these observations in mind, they went to work to reproduce some of these effects. The result of their experiments is that, to-day, we see stage pictures as beautiful as pictures painted by the finest artists. Lighting has now come to be such an important factor in the producing of plays that no stage, however small, can ignore it.

Let us now consider the kind of lighting which may be used in the several kinds of marionette stages. The Punch and Judy stage requires no lighting when used in daylight. But even this stage requires some thought for its lighting when it is used in a darkened room. Your set of Christmas-tree lights may be fastened to the top of the proscenium arch and an extension light may be used in the same way as is shown in the illustration. Christmas-tree lights and extension lights are all that are necessary for the table stage and the soap-box stage. In the chapter on “Making Your Stage” you will see how these lights are placed.

If you have made the semi-professional stage with overhead lights, footlights, and strips, you are ready to experiment with your lighting. Begin by asking yourself whether the scenes of your play take place indoors or out of doors. What is the time of day and the season of the year? Is it an out-of-door scene, representing the cold of winter, or the heat of summer? Does your scene occur in the soft light of early morning or in the glow of sunset? Is your scene laid in a deep cool wood or in a warm sunny garden? All of these questions must be considered.

Now, how can you produce these varied effects of sunlight and moonlight, coldness and warmth, somberness and gaiety? Certain colors such as red, orange, and yellow are called warm colors, because they give the feeling of warmth. Other colors such as green, blue, and violet are called cool, because they give the feeling of coolness. If your scene suggests warmth, whether indoors or out of doors, begin experimenting with warm lights, ambers, reds, and yellows. You will find that usually a certain number of white lights are needed with the colored lights in order to produce the effects you seek.

Marionette Ballet, "Petroushka"

Everyone knows that color produces varied emotions. We are familiar with the effects of red which are stimulating, exciting, or irritating. The toreador, recognizing this principle, waves a flaming red mantle before the bull. Blue has an exactly opposite effect. It quiets and soothes, and when it runs into violet, it becomes depressing. Experiment with purple lights and you will find that they give a note of gloom, mystery, or of impending disaster. Yellow is the color that brings gaiety and light-heartedness, as you will recall when you contrast your own feelings on a sunshiny day and on a gray day.

You will find that most out-of-door effects are produced by soft natural lighting which gives a sense of distance and perspective to the scene. For this effect use yellow, amber, and white lights with an occasional blue or red. Only lights coming from several directions will produce the subtle tones of nature. This means using footlights with discretion, stronger lights overhead, and placing strips wherever you need them in order to destroy the shadows which other lights may throw. Sometimes it takes several hours of experimenting to find the right lighting for a single scene. It means changing the position of the strips, using more lighting or less lighting, and always asking yourself whether your lighting is just that which your scene demands to bring out its mood. The shadows produced by footlights may sometimes be used to give charm or mystery to a scene. For instance, in the second scene in the Petrouchka Ballet, only footlights were used. The pattern of the shadows of the dancers falling on a neutral background was very effective.

If your scene is laid indoors, your lighting will be somewhat determined by the period of the play. For instance, in the third act of Men of Iron, the great hall of Devlin Castle was softly lighted to suggest candle and torch light. This effect was produced by using amber and blue lights overhead; red, blue, white, and amber in the footlights. A strip of blue and red lights placed upright against the proscenium frame threw rich color against the king and those of his courtiers who stood near the throne. This color was most pleasing when it fell upon the armor of Myles as he knelt before the king.

Again your lighting may be determined by the kind of action. A gay scene naturally requires bright lighting. As an illustration of this: The royal kitchen in the Knave of Hearts was made warm and gay by the use of white and amber lights overhead, and amber, blue, and red footlights to throw rich colors on the costumes. The fireplace gave a warm light, and through the window could be seen the bright summer landscape.

As an illustration of a serious and somber scene, we might take the first act of the hero tale, Sigurd, the Volsung. Here many blue lights were used with a very few red and amber. The result was that the great hall became a mysterious place in which Odin himself could appear, and a somber enough setting for the traitorous Siggeir.

If your picture is an imaginative one, such as the garden of jewels in Aladdin and His Wonderful Lamp, you are free to use your lights as you wish, to produce a scene of enchantment.

When you have finished your experimenting, and have found the right lighting for a scene, take a sheet of paper and make a chart. This illustration suggests a form for you to follow.

Chart
Name of Play
Scene I.    
  Overhead lights.  
Left (as seen from the audience) Right
  blue, white, white, white, blue  
  Footlights  
Left   Right
  blue, red, amber, white, red, blue  
Left strip    
  blue, red, blue, blue  
    Right strip
    blue, amber, blue, blue
Left extension    
  white  

The stage electrician will need a chart for each scene of your play. The changing of the lights for each scene will be his responsibility.

You will probably have little need for baby-spots unless your equipment is very elaborate, and to use them requires almost professional experience. Every boy who is interested in electricity knows that a rheostat or dimmer is used for turning lights off and on gradually. They may be purchased for a small sum or they may be made.

Every new play and every new scene presents a new problem for you to solve. You will know that you have solved your problem when, as a group, you can sit before each scene and feel that it is harmonious, that it surrounds the figures with suitable atmosphere, and that your lighting interprets the idea and mood of your play.

From A the current from one wire passes to the stationary electrode C which is submerged in a gallon jar of water containing one eighth teaspoon of ammonium chloride. The graduated electrodes (all connected) are fastened to the wooden bar B which is made to slide up and down the vertical posts at either side. Both sets of electrodes are made of thin sheet copper. By means of the cord (attached to the screw eye in B) which runs over the pulleys D, D down to the spool drum E, the upper electrodes can be slowly let down into the ammonium chloride solution, completing the circuit and increasing it as more of the electrode surface is exposed to the liquid. This dimmer will carry as many lights as your theater will ever require.

CHAPTER IX
Training Your Puppeteers

The stage is set. The play has been chosen. The puppets are ready. Let us gather around the table to talk about our parts. There should be a copy of the play in the hands of each puppeteer. Begin by reading the play, each pupil reading the part that he has chosen. After the reading, discuss and analyze each character, his appearance, his disposition, and his voice.

For instance, Captain Peggoty in The Childhood of David Copperfield would have a rough-and-ready seaman’s voice that would boom from his deep chest, but his words would show generosity and kindness. Alice, in Alice in Wonderland would have a little girl’s voice, one that would suggest wonderment, sometimes impatience, and a quaint dignity when she tried to appear grown up. The White Rabbit’s voice would be high, nervous, and impatient. The Caterpillar would have a slow, full, dignified voice, while the voice of the Duchess would be gruff and peppery. Deacon Bowman, the faithful old servant in Men of Iron, would have the trembling, wavering voice of extreme old age.

How shall the right person be found for each part? One of the most satisfactory ways is that of trying out for parts, with the group acting as a jury. The judges must keep in mind that the voice is very important in interpreting character and they will do well to choose the voice that is best suited to the character. If each puppeteer takes the same position at the table at each rehearsal, you will soon associate each voice with a certain place. This will make it much easier to address your lines to the proper character. The lines should be reread slowly for the sake of better understanding. In this way, each in turn soon comes to read the lines of his character with real appreciation. Do not hurry over the little words. Every word should be clearly spoken. Lift your eyes as often as you can from your manuscript. “Talk” your lines. In almost no time you will know your lines without looking at them. When you can speak your lines so naturally that any of your friends, with his eyes closed, could imagine the character you are interpreting from your voice, you are ready to take your puppet in hand.

Manipulation of your marionette is the second step in your training as a puppeteer. You will be surprised at the amount of time this requires. Some of the greatest puppeteers have spent months learning to manage a single puppet. In all your practice work, avoid careless motions of your hands, with your thoughts elsewhere. Be wholly absorbed in what you wish to do.

Your puppet in the making has been so weighted that when you hold your controller you will know the very second the puppet’s feet touch the floor. This delicate position must be held. Hold your controller steady. If you lower your controller after the feet have touched the floor your puppet will sag. Behold the sagging puppet! Begin gently. Do not jerk the strings. The least motion of the hand brings a quick response from the puppet. In fact, puppets are just like ourselves, if handled skilfully they will do almost anything you may wish them to do. As your skill grows so will your pleasure in your puppet grow. Its many almost human movements and gestures will delight you as they have delighted all those men and women who have been its friends. If you can hold your marionette before a mirror and practise with it, speaking your lines, as you pull the strings, you will be surprised to see how lifelike it becomes. You will discover that a slight movement may indicate very strong feeling.

A whole chapter could be written about the movements of the head. Let us see how the head may show thoughtfulness. When you are thoughtful, how do you hold your head? Release the head strings and your puppet’s head will drop forward as yours has just done. If you wish to turn this thoughtful pose into one of discouragement, let the shoulders droop forward as well, so that the chest becomes hollow. How would you stand if listening? Release the head strings and slant the controller so that the head falls a little to one side and a little forward. How near to this and yet how different is the attitude of craftiness and cunning. To the listening pose you simply add a forward thrust of the head and a hunching up of the shoulders. For the proud, erect bearing of a king, hold your controller horizontally. If your puppet is a charming young lady, her head will make many quick, graceful little turns. This may be done by releasing the head strings and tipping the controller back and forth.

We now come to the movements of the shoulders and the waist. The center string controls the movements of the waist and is used whenever you want your puppet to sit down, kneel down, or bow. As you know there are a hundred different ways of sitting down. The young and old, each has his way. So, too, have the proud and the humble, the gentle and the boisterous. When you make your puppet sit down, unless he is very stiff and proud, let his body settle a little. You will notice that most people do this. When you pull the center string you must at the same time lower the controller slightly to keep the feet from swinging off the floor.

There are quite as many ways of bowing as there are of sitting down. A courtier would bow from the waist, his head slightly bent; the little princess, in her full skirts, would courtesy gracefully with her head tilted backward.

Next, we come to that small but important thing, the hand. When one knows how to control it, it can do such wonderful things. It can show force or gentleness, harshness or kindness, nervous excitement or shaky old age. It is possible for a marionette to draw a sword, practise at the pells, engage in fist fights, and hammer at a forge. When a marionette must hammer at a forge, as in Sigurd, the Volsung, and in Men of Iron, be sure that it makes a heavy, steady stroke. The hammer must be of iron. If the armorer sings a jolly rhythmic song, he can keep time with his hammer. Suit your gestures to your words. It is the fault of inexperienced puppeteers that they make all gestures alike. Experienced puppeteers suit their gestures to the ideas and to the feelings which they wish to convey.

It is when a puppet is called upon to do some unusual thing, such as dancing, climbing a wall, fighting a duel, riding a horse in a tournament, that difficulties appear.

Let us take the first of these—dancing. The Bear in Men of Iron danced. Dainty little Lady Alice in Men of Iron danced. Fat jolly Tweedle Dee in Alice in Wonderland danced. The surly old cook in the Duchess’s kitchen danced. But imagine the differences in these dances! Each dance expressed the character of the dancer. The Bear danced to a lively jig whistled by his trainer. His steps were carefully worked out in time with the tune, and when once learned were never varied. Little Lady Alice, with dainty step and charming courtesies, danced to the tune of a medieval love song. Tweedle Dee danced to a rollicking tune played on an accordion. His steps were lively and when he danced across the stage on his right foot, kicking out his left in time with the music, he made everyone laugh. The cook’s dance was an Irish jig.

Puppets are versatile. To them belongs not only the interpretation of the spoken word but they are equally at home in the world of pantomime, music, and dance.

The illustrations in this book show how puppets can even perform a ballet. Here you can see their interpretation of the colorful and dramatic Russian ballet, Petrouchka. The cast of twenty-one puppets included four principal actors, the manager, the Moor, the Ballerina, and Petrouchka and besides these, a showman and a trained bear, an organ grinder, and bands of gypsies.

A ballet or an opera will naturally require a different procedure than a play, because the character analysis comes from the music. Here are the steps by which the Petrouchka Ballet was worked out:

1. The story was told to the pupils.

2. The musical score as a whole was played to them.

3. The motif for each character and incident was played to them.

4. The musical score as a whole was again played and the pupils listened for the motifs.

5. Each character was analyzed and his probable actions upon the stage were discussed.

6. The puppet was taken in hand and the interpretation of the music with it was begun.

There are four scenes in this ballet. The first scene is a street fair in a Russian village. A little theater occupies the center back stage in which the stage manager exhibits the Moor, the Ballerina, and Petrouchka. The scene closes with their lively dance and Petrouchka’s declaration of love to the Ballerina.

Scene II is in Petrouchka’s box and shows his despairing love for the Ballerina.

Scene III is in the Moor’s box and shows him playing with his ball. The Ballerina enters and they dance together. Petrouchka rushes in and in a jealous rage tries to kill the Moor. The Moor chases Petrouchka out of his box.

Scene IV is again at the fair. There are gay dances by gypsies and nounous. Petrouchka runs in, chased by the Moor who stabs him. The people draw away and the Ballerina kneels beside him. The manager comes in, the Moor, the Ballerina, and all the people depart. The manager drags poor, lifeless Petrouchka toward the little theater. Suddenly up over the little theater appears the spirit of Petrouchka, mocking and gesticulating. The manager stands aghast.

So that you may understand how this ballet was produced, let us take the second scene and work it out together. The scene opens with a crashing chord as Petrouchka is thrown onto the stage. (No less than thirty times did the puppeteer rehearse this entrance with the music.) He lay in a motionless heap. At a few plaintive notes he lifts his head, then drops it again. To the quick notes that follow he beats the floor with his hands. As the music grows in volume, his despair increases, and he leaps to his feet and rushes wildly about the room, beating frantically upon the walls. As the music changes and becomes soft and reminiscent, Petrouchka thinks of the Ballerina and stretches out his arms, then sorrowfully drops his head. The motif for the Ballerina announces her entrance. She comes in gay and light as a bird. Petrouchka, overcome with emotion, drops on his knees before her. She continues her gay little dance and leaves as lightly as she entered. Despair again seizes Petrouchka, who dashes himself against the walls, then finally falls to the ground. The curtains close.

In a gymnasium there are certain exercises that bring all the muscles of the body into use. Likewise there are times when the whole body of a marionette must come into action. If you want a marionette to climb a wall, your audience must feel that the marionette is actually pulling himself, with effort, up and over the wall. This requires a great deal of patient practice. To make your marionette climb a wall, he must first appear to catch hold of the wall, then to draw up one knee, then to strain up as you would, then to throw an arm over the wall, then to pull his body up until he can throw a leg over the wall. If this is well done, the audience climbs the walls with the puppet.

Sometimes, puppets must appear to assist each other. For instance, when Myles was thrown on the ground by the bully, Walter Blunt, Gascoigne, his friend, got down on one knee beside him, threw his arm around his shoulders, and apparently helped him to rise.

There are certain little tricks which are very effective, such as crying, or dropping off to sleep and snoring. In the Childhood of David Copperfield, Mrs. Gummage frequently lifted her apron to her eyes and wept. As one corner of her apron was sewed to her hand, this was an easy thing to do. Can you see her, shoulders shaking, her apron to her eyes, sniffling, “I am a lone, lorn critter and everything goes contrary with me?”

In the illustration, page 130, you can see how a puppet may appear to toss a ball. This is the way it was done. One puppeteer held the Moor’s controller while his assistant held the end of a string attached to the ball. Through practice, these puppeteers were able to make the Moor’s hand and the ball rise at the same moment, thereby giving the impression that the Moor tossed the ball. When the Moor stopped playing with the ball, the puppeteer who held the string attached to the ball let it fall to the stage. The audience felt that the Moor was tired of playing and had tossed the ball aside.

In this same ballet, an organ grinder appeared. The handle of the organ was fastened to one of his hands. When the puppeteer pulled the hand string up and down in time with the music, it seemed to the audience that the organ was really being played. A marionette can be made to play a flute. The flute is fastened in one hand, and a string from the flute passed through the mouth of the marionette up through the top of its head to the controller. When the puppeteer pulls the flute string, the flute is raised to the mouth of the marionette.

All these effects and many others can be accomplished when you understand the manipulation of your strings. Sometimes you may wish to use birds, bees, butterflies, or flying dragons. If you keep the wings in constant motion you can make your audience believe that these winged creatures are really flying. Of course, bees and butterflies move their wings more rapidly than birds and dragons. The more you observe flying birds, the better you will be able to imitate them.

You have made the puppet look the part, now see that it acts the part. You have made your hero look like a hero, now see that he acts like a hero. You made the king look like a king. Can you make him act like a king?

The third step in your training as a puppeteer comes when you have acquired enough skill to manage your puppet. Then you are ready to join your fellow puppeteers on the bridge. At first you will probably feel that the bridge is not large enough for you alone, not to mention four or five others. Experience will show you, however, that you can do a great deal in a very small space. This means good management and practice and consideration for your fellow puppeteers.

Now that the puppet is on the stage, imagine what a shock it would be to your audience to see a great hand coming down below the proscenium arch. To prevent this, always keep your hand, even during rehearsals, close to your control.

While on the stage, every motion must have a reason behind it. Puppets cannot move aimlessly about the stage any more than real actors can. Every gesture, too, must mean something.

Now the time has come to show yourselves as real artists. Your stage is your picture and though you change it with every move of your puppets, you are always making it the picture. This means that you should know what artists speak of as arrangement or composition.