No artist with ambition in her soul ever imitated anyone. Any interpretation is woven out of the very soul fibre of a player, as the web of a busy little insect, with a name too ugly by association to pronounce, is spun out of the small body of him. So an interpretation, while it reflects the type of life designed by the author, bears the impress of the interpreter's character, the seal of her individual soul. To attempt to place upon it the die of another's conception is as contemptible as the work of the counterfeiter with his hidden molds and stamp. Not only must the interpretation be his own, he should try to make it as real as nature herself.
Nature never affects anything.
There is no pretence in her. I believe in absolute realism. Much is said, and sincerely said, about creating the illusion of the real, of art being truth plus illusion. My creed is different. I believe in absolute realism as I believe in absolute individualism.