The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1903-03-29
DRAMATIC POEMS NOT DRAMAS
ASPECTS or BROWNING AS ORA
MATIC POET.
vain Attempts to Act His Piays-The Blame
for the Failure Not with the Theatre
-Browning's Ignorance Of the Phi
mary Technical Elements Of Playw rfting

-Br0WninGe Ignorance Oi inc T's
mary Technical Elements Of Piay~ritinl
Who has not tried to write play
From peasant to president. from poe'
to priest, all, all Of us have subdued ou
hand to the task. Angels-in petticoats-
and ministers OF grace have subscribed
their names to the mighty bead-roll oil
unsuccessful playwrights. The thought
pleasing one; misery loves good company
II birds of a feather really flock together
then should there be clubhouses in every
city OF the globe for those who have written
rejected plays. There are a few already
The Salon des Refuses was once an anala'
gous Partisan institutional included paint
rrs at whose door fame knocked the day
after their burial. 1t Is also consoling
10 read the names OF the men who conn.,
prised the Society Of Kissed Authors:
Daudet, Flaubert, De Goncourt. lola and
others.
So, to have written a play In no indica-
ton Of graphomania, The day that Presi-
dent Theodore Roosevelt boldly avows
the authorship Of a drama every manager
in the United States and Europe will
tumble head over heels in the mad scramble
for it's possession. Its production would
spell hundreds Of thousands Of dollars
to theatres and author. II 1t turned out
to be an heroic drama in which Cuba.
Rough Riders and ranch life would be
equally treated there need be no bounds
to financial representation.
The wonder then Is not at the number Of
plays written, but the few good plays pro-
duced Blame not the managers! A good
play Is q gold mine, and the upper Broad
way managerial contingent is not passing
gold mines. There are schools for the study
OF playwriting and-don't emile!-most
worthy institutions; while they cannot sup
ply the sacred fire they at least can teach
pupils what not to do. And the Don't
have It In dramatic building-largelya ques-
ton OF avoiding the obvious in literature
and life To be literary merely Is to court
failure at the mouths OF those two for
midable cannons-press and public.
Have you ever stood in an empty theatre,
the auditorium darkened. the stage dimly
lighted for rehearsal? 1t Is both an ave.
inspiring and dispiriting spectacle. For
one who contemplates writing a play we
know Of nothing 30 chilling to a fiery, I'M
fretted spirit; to the man who bankers not
for footlight honors the sight is thought
breeding. There 1t is-that huge, empty
frame. awaiting in barred solemnity the ar
rival Of a picture, Of your play lLordl how
your spirits sag to your bootsl. A picture
frame! Yes, and a monster at times whose
nav devours the hopes, the souls, the very
bodies Of ambitious men. In our nervous
perturbation, our fancy excited by the simile,
the daring Of the footlights at the hour
when destiny has struck, assumes the mien
Of cruel teeth. white. glittering, menacing.
But the real monster il on this side of the
curtain: 1t Is that composite called audience
and critic. Without its collaboration there
can be no play-or playwright. Yet II we
give go Of 1000 playmakers the chance for
which they have been aching. would they
refuse. even In the face Of masked batteriesl
No, mol There IL fanaticism In the veins
Of the man who has made plays that sneers.
scorn. abuse. defeat. will not dismay. Let
~ not look too closely into the Psychology
Of this or II may send US straying across
the borders into the debatable land OF
pathology.
It II the hlling-in Of the big empty frame
that % disconoerts the man who knows,
the man who has tried and failed The
proportions are all foreign to the taste Of
tho literary man. 1t Is as II q painter in
water colors were asked to linn fresco-
ahi fresco Ia the word! The spatial rela-
lions are different; new perspectives, new
planes Of atmosphere. above all. new charac-
ter values, are demanded In this scenic
frame. No daubing-as many. who rush
In desperately, imagining that it Is only
scene painting the stage requires. Not
%. Shakespeare gave us exquisite minia-
lures executed with camel-hair brushes.
Not epical magnitude, nor the picture. for
the sake OF the picture, are prime requisites:
the drama In in Time as well as Space: in it's
narrating power 1t Is akin to music which
unrolls its gorgeous patterns of tone In
stately or passionate movements.
Every line, every act must be accounted
for In the densely woven web Of the drama
About 1t beats a blind ing white light.
Nothing must be concealed and when
II Ia not enough for the combat to be spir-
itual-it must be seen. When Richard
Wagner wrote his first boyish tragedy
and Schiller. he killed all his characters
DeIOTS ttfo iutdic, anu III tite ia~t hrt was
compelled 10 bring them on a. ghosts.
But he brought them on; he did not talk Of
them. That trait reveals his Imagination
for the concrete. for the dramatic. Despite
what he thought Of him self a. philosopher
Wagner WAS a born dramatist. and thus
he was able 20 lend music-drama. more than
Q semblance Of reality His early training.
like Ibsens. had been In the playhouse.
Now you may divorce drama from litera-
sure, from life. and still Il survives-a
rather elementary type. yet q type. And
Il may be allied 20 the magnific ent genius
Of Shakespeare. 70 the tropical gifts Of
Mariowe. OF to the practical. dry. technical
brain Of Scribe. and be- drama. But IL
cannot be real drama and unactsbe. That
10 Q species Of scholarly subtsSfuge. . lit |
nary hsr~y We encounter In every hters
turs II the hard -snd-fa.t conventions Of
the stage did not clog the wings ~ Shake
spssre OF Ib.sn ibs~n u not a tsnhnica
refosmsf Why should the-e same unescsp-
allie conventions bs m excuse for the poetio
drama, We n~ed not 20 ~ far In our con-
dsmnsilon Of tbs closet drama - Mr.. Bran.
der Matthews. who will have mons ~ II.
but II " super6uous 10 defend L. lack