Morning journal and courier., 1888-01-23
HI. CoqueIIn on Dramatic Art.
From the London GIobe.l


 Replying to the toast of his health, pro- posed at banquet recently given to him by the literary men of Buda-Pesth, M. Coquelin expressed himself very forcibly on the ques- tion of stage realism. To render nature in her nudity in the theater is, he pointed out, an impossibility. fI have but once in my life played nature on the boards, and regret having done so to this day. I was on an acting tour, had spent all night in railway compartment, had attended rehearsals all day and made an excursion on foot. In the evening I played Hannibal in the 'Adven- turiere' At the end of the second act Han niba1, who has been forced to drink by Fa-
 bricius, who wants to get something out of him, is first intoxicated and then goes to sleep. played the tipsiness as usual, but when it came to sleeping the practice of what then stood so much in need of was so agreeable that I went to sleep in good ear nest: and proh pudor, even began to snoreis The public thought was playing my part. with uncommon zeal, and anxious to make great effect. Some laughed, others thought my acting very bad taste, and there were even those who pretended that I snored with out truth or grace, that I exaggerated; in short that was not acting naturally. I was indifferent to applause or criticism, and hiss- ing would not have awakened me from my sleeps When the curtain was down my fel- low-acters had much trouble in waking me,
 but the nap had done me world of good, and played my part to the satisfaction of the public afterwards. Still that bit of act ing was grave fault and might have ended badly; and I do not believe that l should have succumbed to the temptation had I not been aware that going to sleep was the end of the act. I was so careless because knew that I should have nothing to do during that act but sleep, and instead of initiating sleep
 I slept in reality. It was, I repeat, natural ism of the purest kind. Still we must learn from our faults. The audience found the ! real sleep badly acted. They declared it \ poor at the best It is the old story of the ! clown and the farmer, which so often comes \ true. The clown initiates the voice of a ! young pig. General applause A farmer \ who has bet that he can initiate it better still has brought young pig in his pocket. ! He now pinches the pig, which grunts to it's \ hearts content; but the farmer is hissed. This happens on the boards every day. The point of view-whether it is in the open air or in the theater-ehanges everything. | There is no doubt that the pig grunts to per ! lection, but it grunts without art. This is \ the great fault of naturalism. It is always trying to make the real pig grunt. I must ' add another anecdote to the many have had the bad taste to tell you already. Edwin | Booth is the hero. One night he played the King in tLe Roi s Amuse,' one of his best ! and perhaps his favorite part. That night ! he felt more like the king than ever before. | The power of the situation. the pathetic Ian guage, impressed him so deeply that he iden- | tifed himself with the part he played. Real tears fell from his eyes, real emotion shook ! his frame. real sobs robbed him of his voice. When the piece over his daughter, the critic he relied upon with the fullest conf dence, came up to him. She was present at | the play in box, and was now hastening to his side to ask him what was the matter
 with him, and what had made him play hii part so poorly that day. What striking confirmation of the paradox spoken by Did
 erot, which in my opinion is a great truth that to move others the actor must not him self be moved; that he must always be hi own master from beginning to end and
 leave nothing to chance.''