The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1900-06-17
oBERAMMERGAU IMPRESSIONS.
The Closing Scenes Thrilling and Up
lifting TO All BehoIders.

Correspondence London Mail.
AS for the scenes of the play. which are
many, yet practically consecutive save for
the tableaux and chorus. which fill the
pauses between acts, some of them, It
must be confessed. are tedious. One tires
of Caiaphas. and Annas. and all the plot
ting band of priests; though one does not
tire of Judas, who plays into their hands.
because Johann Twink is naturally a great
actor.
But then comes Christ, and Tagging in
terest revives with a stirring of the pulses
for which even his sad. silent presence
gives the cue. Mary, too, brings with her
an electrical influence. Where she fails it
is the fault of the part as it is written, not
that Of Sweet Anna Flunge, who, though
so young, is a true representative of the
best type OF woman-the loving mother
woman. who can bring healing and COM
fort to the sick or sad without knowing
how or why she does 1t. Only three times
is she on the stage. and she has little to
say. Yet one does not forget her.
For long time sat in the theater, and
though the mountains were the mountains
of Moab and was living eighteen hundred
years ago, somehow the play was dis
appointment 10 me-or l was disap-
DOlntment 10 mYSel1, because my emOt1OnS
were not keyed high enough. But the scene
of the last supper came, and Jesus was
so exquisitely lovable among His friends
that my heart ached because of what was
TO come. And the sight of Him in His
lonely agony in the gray twilight garden
stabbed the soul.
The interval for luncheon, though needed
was a cruel break To come back fed and
refreshed, to take up the thread of the
indefinitely pathetic story was like picnick-
ing on a grave. But the old mood did re-
turn, and 1T was the look on Anton Lang's
face after he had been scourged, cloaked
in purple, and crowned with thorns, that
brought IL keenly. 1t had refused to come
for the scourgfng itself. for that was me-
chanical, and the fleshings, painted with
spots of blood were things to shut ones
eyes upon, not in horror, but for fear the
growing sense of realism would be lost
The first tremendous thrill that went over
the whole theater like a tidal wave came
with Christ's appearance among the boot
ing crowd of Jews and traders, priests and
Roman soldiers, carrying the heavy cross.
That whispering sigh that went through
rhe house at sight of that bent staggering
figure, that Goldman bearing the sins of
the world with the cross which his
wounded body would die-it will not let
itself be forgotten. 1t was as if some one
among Us must run to Him and help
Him, for all was real after that-terribly,
appallingly real.
seen the writing thieves in twisted agony
on their low crosses. We have seen that
other cross raised between them, with
Christ hanging upon it, the illusion of
hanging there, dropping with his own
weight from wounded hands, being almost
too true for eyes to see unblinded by tears.
We have seen the weeping mother come;
we have seen the callous soldiers tearing
the crimson robe in pieces, and throwing
dice for the coat. We have seen the dark
ness fall behind the patient, hanging figure
on the cross, and we have heard the death
cry that ended the long agony. After that
ii is difficult TO judge and criticise. For 1t
was real-real to us all.
The audience was silent throughout the
play. 1t was the largest audience I ever
saw, because IL is the largest theater and
the largest stage in the world; and for
eight hours with the one interval for rest,
the story of the Nazarene's life and death
held the four thousand people spellbound.
Before this day, and since the hour when
we all moved out of the theater-still under
that spell of silence-I have heard discus
sions as TO the moral effect of the Passion
Play.
For me- 1t is not a thing to argue about
But / remember the faces / saw in the
audience; commonplace, even gross-some
of them, at first-slowly becoming spirit
ualized In the fire of a sympathetic pain.
shall remember certain new aspirations,
born of seeing before the eyes in living pic
lures that which they have only seen in
print before
The stoniest cynic cannot fail to under
stand why Christianity has triumphed over
centuries, while other religions have fallen
and been forgotten.
It is the humanness of the "old. old
story that has gripped mems hearts; and
ii is this phase which is pre-eminently
brought forward in the Passion Play I
have seen to-day.