During the '20s the usual evening of theatre consisted of a major restaurant dinner, arriving late for an 8:30 curtain, watching a show that ran well past midnight, going to a supper club to eat, drink, and see a musical review, and finally arriving home around dawn. It was a heady time. And there were LOTS more shows to see.
The 1800s were even madder, in a way. These patrons arrived quite early for say, Edwin Booth as Hamlet, for they expected one or two short plays or songs before the main event and an amusing afterpiece. If their evening in the theatre fell short of six or seven hours, they felt cheated.
Shakespeare was interesting to produce in those days, for audiences expected the full historic panoply. This meant that between each scene, the curtain would close for ten or so minutes of set and costume changes. A really popular actor would expect and receive applause at the end of a particularly good speech or bit of dialogue, and would deliberately build for applause, rather like a contemporary politician. And then he or she would bow -- and possibly do it again as an encore!
I mentioned Joseph Jefferson -- actually, Joseph Jefferson III, and the most successful of that theatrical family. He is most famous for his portrayal of Rip Van Winkle. Unlike James O'Neill, who felt miserably trapped by having to do "The Count of Monte Cristo" again and again, Jefferson was grateful for Rip, and played him cheerfully right up until his retirement.
When Jo (he never used the "e") was a lad in the early 1800s, he and his family traveled the rivers, from town to town, setting up in courtrooms and meeting houses, hoping to get enough patronage to stay for a week or so, putting on a different play every night.
One time their sailboat sank and they were reduced to a skiff, holding up canvas flats to catch the wind.
Jefferson tells of setting up shop in Springfield and then running afoul of some of the religious leaders of the town who thought that ALL theatre was profanation. The company was at a loss until a young lawyer offered to defend them in court. He made a brilliant speech about the honorable and often sacred ancestry of theatre, and won for them. You guessed it -- it was Lincoln.
1 comment:
Great post, Bob! (And welcome to the blogging world!)
Barnum was a very sought after speaker of his day, and his book THE ART OF MONEY GETTING was published. But when I tried to do it word for word, I quickly realized that the audience had a different tolerance in the 1860's than it does now. I had to cut about half of the text to get it to where I felt people could listen to it without being bored. (50 minutes instead of 2 hours) Perhaps TV cuts into your theatre time?
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