New-York tribune., 1912-01-29
A RE|NHARDT TRIUMPH
"Gdipus Rex" at Covent Garden
"A Memorable Performance.
London. January IL

NlVlu SpeCtdCle, teIflDle realism and
tragic power. Covent Garden has bean
reconstructed for the conversion Of a
masterpiece Of Greek tragedy into .
modern show. In place of curtain, or.
chestra pit and footlights there Is a
range of dark steps leading up TO ths
| black portico of a palace with copper
doors. Through passages in the middla
and at the sides of the darkened theatra
rushes a moaning multitude Of priests.
| tCrchbearers, soldiers and Theban
women and hundreds Of white arms ara
uplfted in entreaty against the black
background Of the stage; and in answer
| to their prayers comes from the palace
the stately, kind-hearted King, in flowing
white draperies girdled with the priestly
breastplate That is the opening specta.
Gle, Illuminated with searchlghts from
| the top of the theatre; and whoever wit.
nesses it can never forget II, so weird.
bizarre and beautiful is it In the re.
splendence Of limelight and in the vivid.
ness Of action.
AS the tragedy proceeds with cumula-
| tive intensity and lucidity Of construc-
ton the realism becomes a climax OF
horrors. The King, struggling courage
ously to extricate himself from the mys-
terry in which he is enmeshed, is joined
by the statuesque Queen who is at once
his wife and his mother, and when she
caresses him tenderly the tragedy be-
comes too poignant for endurance.
Again, the Queen is seen in orange dra-
peries bearing alcft a golden urn while
she prays to the gods for deliverance
! from impending dangers and when the
! ghastly truth is revealed she is the first
! to understand it, for after covering on
the floor and hiding her face she shrinks
from the Kings touch and rushes into
| the palace to kill herself. When Gdipus
at last masters the horror Of the situa-
ton, and after frenzied flight into the
palace reappears blind and disheyeled
TO caress his children with broken ac-
cents and to grope and cringe through
the darkness to his self-imposed exile as
the helpless and degraded victim OF the
iponical Fates, the realism becomes so
overpowering that spectators are SPELL
bound and breathess. They can scarce
Is wait for the lamentations OF the
chorus to end, so eager are they TO
emerge from the darkness OF the tragic
abysses of hideous cruelty and inscrut-
able evil into the broader ranges OF
everyday life.
1t is here that modernism, with its
streams Of limelight, its massng OF
crowds and its spectacular maryels, fails
to reproduce the restful spirit Of Greek
tragedy. Sophocles accepted Fate not as
an angel to be wrestled with, but as an
eternal verify like the circle Of the h0ri-
zon or the foundations OF the ancient
hills. He recognized in man the play
thing of capricious gods with Infinite re-
sources for mischief and evil, but did not
forget that the human instrument was
essentially divine. The mocking ironies
Of the tabled mythology did not take
away his faith in eternal law that was
above and underneath heaven and earth.
Gdipus was the godlike king endowed
with heroic courage and inspired with
moral responsibility for helping his. de-
pendent subjects; and apart from the
whimsicalities of the inscrutable mys-
teries OF the Fates there was the sacred
ness of the inviolabe home, which was
above the desecrating touch Of defle-
ment by gods or men. Ii was because
the worship Of the Delphic Apollo was
associated with domestic purity that the
tragedy of plague-stricken Thebes with
the unclean royal household was the
theme of the master dramatist; ana
poignant as were the horrors, the Athe-
nian audience could retire from the
amphitheatre under the blue sky with
restful consciousness of reverence tor
eternal law.
Mr.. Martin Harvey in his mastery i'm
personation of QEdipUs was interested IN
the human side rather than the godliEe
qualities of the King. He was coura-
geous and persistent in unravelIlng tns
mysteries of his lot, he was faithful IN
his duty TO his subjects, and he was
|
life. These virtues were not emphasized
so much as hi hot-headedness, his ten
derness toward wife and children, his ar
rogance in denOuncinS Teireslas ana
Creon as traitors, and his unrestrained
ioy when he fancied momentarily that
he was released from the ominous fore''
casts of the oracles. IL was an intensely
human king that staggered in his blind
ness and in a frenzy Of madness fondled
his children, laughed at his own tortures
and disappeared in outer darkness; ana
there was no suggestion OF the nNine
nature of man, which must have been II
Sophocles's mind. AS an acting per-
formance il was splendid, ana So aiSo
was Miss McCarthy's as Jocasta' espe-
cially i'm the tragic moment when sn0
| tried to kiss QIdipus and turned a"G
| from him with a shuddcr OF horror. 7hN'
celIent. too was Mr.. Louis Calverts m
personation of Creon, cautious cold anu
worldly; and if Mr.. Saintsbury was more
! artificial as Teresias, Mr.. Hubert Carer
was most classic and sonorous as lh'
Leader of the Chorus, and Mr.. FranKhn
DyalI as the Messenger did his w~s
with perfect method. a.
1t is the broad handling OF classs
subject rather than the indiViou"
performances OF the players that mas
rendered this production memorapie !"
the annals OF the British theatre. KEN
hardtism, with its mingling Of audlen'.
and actors, its massinS of HUNDREDS
supers and its splendid effects OF cO'O.
IN a glare of limelight. is speetac"e'
and modern, without doubt; but II
neither vulgar. nor cheap. nor unoIsn'