Theatre Design & Technology - Dec 1965 - 3

THEATRE AS SOMETHING ELSE: A History of Apologies
DONALD C. MULLIN, College of St. Benedict

For persons outside the field, the theatre is either a
fascinating kaleidescope of brilliantly shifting impressions of reality or an agonizingly frustrating bit
of frivolity without form or permanence, and therefore
without merit. For various reasons the latter attitude
has predominated in our Western culture for some
centuries. The public - including both critics and
apologists - hampered by its inability to accept
Theatre for what it is, has insisted upon clothing
the art with borrowed garments, thus lending it some
kind of form if not always some kind of meaning.
From the "rules" of the French Academy, which
made theatre "classic" and thus respectable, to the
Method-i s ts who made Theatre "hones ttl and. th us
justifiable, there has been a long list of apologies
for the very existence of the art. The most concrete
(sometimes literally) and substantial of these apologia is that of the theatre building itself, the only
thing that lasts after the show has closed.
Seldom has the theatre structure been allowed totake
its own necessary form and shape. Almost always it
has been corseted into a form more consistent with
current ideas about what is real and true, or what is
respectable and therefore worth preserving. A continuous thre'ad that runs through theatre architectural
theories (as well as through other forms of theatrical
expression) is the not-quite-repressed suspicion that
drama actually died 2500 years ago, and all we have
been doing since is merely mummery and dumbshow. Buildings reflecting permanent and responsible attitudes, then, have been the goal of almost
every theatre arch itect from Pa Ilad i 0 onward. We
have been exposed to a long series of apologies for
theatre, a series that has not stopped to th is day.
Following is a list of the seven principal flights from
theatrical reality and a discussion of their origins.
1. Theatre As Archeology (vainglory and cultureconsciousness)
The classical mold was cast at an early date, starting with the Terentian theatres of the Fifteenth Century and continuing through the Senecan and Greek
imitations of the Sixteenth Century. There had to be
some means, of course, for distinguishing the cultivated and learned Court Theatre from that fool ishness performed in the town square. What better way
of doing this than by creating a reconstruction of a
classic theatre? This made the whole matter so

DECEMBER 1965

respectabre as to be painful. Palladio's Olimpico,
Scamozzi's Sabbionetta, and Aleotti's Farnese were
classical enough to drive drama right out of the
building. These theatres still stand-nott because
they were deliberately preserved, but because th~y
were abandoned as being impossible homes for anything but historical resurrections. Since we never
learn from history, or from object lessons, reconstructions of classic theatres have been bui It continuously ever since. No Nineteenth Century ladies'
seminary was complete without its Greek amphitheatre, in which maidens tiptoed their way through
eurhythmic dances. More recently, academicians,
ea ger to rev ive Greek form s (be Iiev ing tha t Greek
forms are dead - their first mistake), have included
Greek theatres as part of their campus contribution
to dramatic art. The new arts complex proposed for
the University of Illinois, as a recently illustrated
example, has a Greek outdoor theatre included. This
is being pursued elsewhere with renewed vigor in
the hope that the Greeks, with luck, may be exploited in the manner of Shakespeare; witness the
planned Greek theatre at Ypsi lanti, in which classic
drama is to alternate with other entertainments. The
fact that the Greek theatre is eminently unsuited for
the performance of anyth ing but the types of plays for
which it was designed is, apparently, no deterrent.
Classical form continues to make theatre into something cultural snobs recognize as real and worthwhi Ie.
Even Tyrone Guthrie did not choose to
resurrect the Globe for his Shakespeare, but thought
it wiser to adapt the Graeco-Roman ground plan, the
ultimate in incongruity, all apologia ad absurdum.
A curious addition to planned archeological resurrections was developed during the Classic Revival
of the late Eighteenth and early Nineteenth Centuries, apparently in search for some kind of Apollonians sense of order among the Napoleonic Dionysian
revels. The theatre became a temple, best typified
in the chi II designs of Schinkel, in which playwrightP laton is ts and actor-s toic s cou Id re-eva luate meanings for tired revolutionaries. Theatre was justified
as a temple, not of art, but of dramatic discourse
which took the place of spectacle. Megalomania
versions of this attitude were distinctly noticeable in
theatre proj ect des ign s of such men as Ledoux,
Boulee, Ruobo, and Ferarrese (Figure 1), whose
theatres were, presumably, monuments to art, but
were in reality tombs instead.

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Theatre Design & Technology - Dec 1965