menu_book Chapter 29

Section 29 of Curiosities of Literature, Volume 2. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Curiosities of Literature, Volume 2 by Isaac Disraeli. Extemporal Comedies It is a curiosity in the history of national genius to discover a people with such a native

fund of comic humor, combined with such passionate gesticulation that they could deeply interest in acting a comedy carried on by dialogue, intrigue, and character al improvista or impromptu. The actors undergoing no rehearsal and in fact composing while they were acting. The plot, called Scenario, consisting merely of the scenes enumerated with the characters indicated, was first written out. It was then suspended at the back of the stage, and from the mere inspection, the actors came forward to perform the dialogue entirely depending on their own genius. Footnote. Some of the ancient scenarii were printed in 1661 by Flaminius Scala, one of their

great actors. These, according to Riccoboni, consist of nothing more than the skeletons of comedies, the cannevas, as the French technically term a plot and its scenes. He says they are not so short as those we now use to fix at the back of the scenes, nor so full as to furnish any aid to the dialogue. They only explain what the actor did on the stage and the action which forms the subject. Nothing more. End of footnote. These pieces must have been detestable, and the actors

mere buffoons, exclaimed the northern critics, whose imaginations have a coldness in them, like a frost in spring. But when the art of extemporal comedy flourished among these children of fancy, the universal pleasure these representations afforded to a whole vivacious people and the recorded celebrity of their great actors open a new field for the speculation of genius. It may seem more extraordinary that some of its votaries have maintained that it possessed

some peculiar advantages over written compositions. When Goldoni reformed the Italian theater by regular comedies, he found an invincible opposition from the enthusiasts of their old comedy. For two centuries it had been the amusement of Italy and was a species of comic entertainment which it had created. Inventive minds were fond of sketching out these outlines of pieces, and other men of genius delighted in their representation. The inspiration of national

genius alone could produce this phenomenon and these extemporal comedies were indeed indigenous to the soil italy a land of impovisatori kept up from the time of their old masters the romans the same fervid fancy the ancient atelani fabulae or atelaine farces originated at atella a town in the neighbourhood of ancient naples and these too were extemporal interludes or as Livy terms them, exodia. We find in that historian a little interesting narrative of the theatrical history of the Romans, when the dramatic performances at Rome were becoming too sentimental and declamatory, banishing the playfulness and the mirth of comedy.

The Roman youth left these graver performances to the professed actors and revived, perhaps in imitation of the licentious satira of the Greeks, the ancient custom of versifying pleasantries and throwing out jests and raillery among themselves for their own diversion. Footnote. The passage in Livy is Uentis Histrionibus Fabularum Actu Licto Ipsa in Terce, more antiquo radicula in texta, where Sibis Iactitari sipit. Book 7, Chapter 2.

End of footnote. These Atalan farces were probably not so low in humor as they have been represented. Footnote. As these Atalanae fabulae were never written, they have not descended to us in any shape, it has indeed been conjectured that Horace, in the fifth satire of his first book, verse 51, has preserved a scene of this nature between two practiced buffoons in the Pugnam Sarmenti Scuri, who challenges his brother Ciceras, equally ludicrous and scurrilous,

but surely these were rather the low humor of the mimes than of the Atalan farcers. End of footnote. or at least the Roman youth on their revival exercised a chaster taste, for they are noticed by Cicero in a letter to his literary friend Papirius, but to turn from the serious to the jacos part of your letter, the strain of pleasantry you break into immediately after having quoted the

tragedy of E. Nomaeus puts me in mind of the modern method of introducing at the end of these graver dramatic pieces, the buffoon humor of our low mimes instead of the more delicate burlesque of the old Atalan farces. This very curious passage distinctly marks out the two classes, which so many centuries after Cicero were revived in the pantomime of Italy and in its extemporal comedy. Footnote. This passage also shows that our own custom of annexing a farce, or

petite pièce or pantomime to a tragic drama existed among the Romans. The introduction of the practice in our country seems not to be ascertained, and it is conjectured not to have existed before the Restoration. Shakespeare and his contemporaries probably were spectators of only a single drama. End of footnote. The critics on our side of the Alps reproached the Italians for the extemporal comedies, and Marmontel rashly declared that the nation did

not possess a single comedy which could endure perusal, but he drew his notions from the low farces of the Italian theater at Paris, and he censured what he had never read. Footnote. Storia Critica del Teatrì dei Signorelli, volume 3, 258. Baretti mentions a collection of 4,000 dramas made by Apostolo Zeno, of which the greater part were comedies. He allows that in tragedies his nation is inferior to the English and the French, but no nation, he adds, can be

compared with us for a pleasantry and humor in comedy. Some of the greatest names in Italian literature were writers of comedy. Italian Book 119. End of footnote. The comedies of Bibiana, del Lasca, del Seci, and others are models of classical comedy, but not the popular favorites of Italy. Signorelli distinguishes two species of Italian comedy, those which he calls Comedie Antice ed Eruditi, ancient and learned comedies, and those of Comedia dell'arte or Asogetto,

comedies suggested the first were molded on classical models recited in their academies to a select audience and performed by amateurs but the comedia sujeto the extemporal comedies were invented by professional actors of genius more delightful to the fancy of the italians and more congenial to their talents in spite of the graver critics who even in their amusements cannot cast off the manacles of precedence, the Italians resolved to be pleased for themselves,

with their own natural vein, and preferred a freedom of original humor and invention incompatible with regular productions, but which inspired admirable actors and secured full audiences. Men of great genius had a passion for performing in these extemporal comedies. Salvatore Rosa was famous for his character of a Calabrian clown, whose original he had probably often studied amidst that mountainous scenery in which his pencil delighted. Of their manner of

acting, I find an interesting anecdote in Passerie's life of this great painter. He shall tell his own story. One summer, Salvatore Rosa joined a company of young persons who were curiously addicted to the making of Comedì al Improviso. In the midst of a vineyard, they raised a rustic stage, under the direction of one Mussi, who enjoyed some literary reputation, particularly for his sermons preached in Lent. Their second comedy was numerously attended, and I went among the rest.

I sat on the same bench by good fortune with the Cavalier Bernini, Romanelli, and Guido, all well-known persons. Salvatore Rosa, who had already made himself a favorite with the Roman people under the character of Formica, opened with a prologue in company with other actors. Footnote. Altieri explains Formica as a crabbed fellow who acts the butt in a farce. End of footnote. He proposed for relieving themselves of the extreme heats and ennui

that they should make a comedy and all agreed formica then spoke these exact words non voglia gia ce facima comedy come cierti ce tagliano li pani aduoso o acilo perce cola tiempo se fa vidieri ci u veloce lo taglio de no rasuolo ce la peña de no poeta e na manco boglio ce facimo veneri nella cena porta setazione aquia vitari e crapari este cifense ce tengo spros posite da asseno One part of this humor lies in the dialect, which is Venetian, but there was a concealed stroke of satire, a snake in the grass. The sense of the passage is, I will not, however, that we should make a comedy like certain persons who cut clothes and put them on this man's back and on that man's back. for at last the time comes which shows how much faster went the cut of the shears than the pen of the poet, nor will we have entering on the scene couriers, brandy-sellers, and goat-herds, and there stair-shy and blockish, which I think worthy the senseless invention of an ass.

Passerie now proceeds. At this time Bernini had made a comedy in the carnival, very pungent and biting, and that summer he had one of Castelli's performed in the suburbs, where, to represent the dawn of day, appeared on the stage water carriers, couriers, and goat herds going about, all which is contrary to rule, which allows of no character who is not concerned in the dialogue to mix with the groups. At these words of the Formica, I, who well knew his meaning, instantly glanced my eye at

Bernini to observe his movements, but he, with an artificial carelessness, showed that this cut of the shears did not touch him, and he made no apparent show of being hurt. But Castelli, who was also near tossing his head and smiling in bitterness, showed clearly that he was hit. This Italian story, told with all the poignant relish of these vivacious natives, to whom such a stinging incident was an important event, also shows the personal freedoms taken on these

occasions by a man of genius, entirely in the spirit of the ancient Roman Atalana or the Grecian Satira. Riccoboni has discussed the curious subject of extemporal comedy with equal modesty and feeling, and Girardi with more exaltation and egotism. This kind of spectacle, says Riccoboni, is peculiar to Italy. One cannot deny that it has graces perfectly its own, and which written comedy can never exhibit. This impromptu mode of acting furnishes opportunities for a perpetual

change in the performance, so that the same scenario repeated still appears a new one. Thus one comedy may become twenty comedies. An actor of this description, always supposing an actor of genius, is more vividly affected than one who has coldly got his part by rote. But Riccoboni could not deny that there were inconveniences in this singular art. One difficulty not easily surmounted was the preventing of all the actors speaking together,

each one eager to reply before the other had finished. It was a nice point to know when to yield up the scene entirely to a predominant character when agitated by violent passion, nor did it require a less exercised tact to feel when to stop. The vanity of an actor often spoiled a fine scene. It evidently required that some of the actors at least should be blessed with genius, and what is scarcely less difficult to find with a certain equality of talents, for the performance

of the happiest actor of the school greatly depends on the excitement he receives from his companion. An actor beneath mediocrity would ruin a piece, but figure, memory, voice, and even sensibility are not sufficient for the actor al improvista. He must be in the habit of cultivating the imagination pouring forth the flow of expression and prompt in those flashes which instantaneously vibrate in the plaudits of an audience and this accomplished extemporal actor feelingly laments that those destined to his profession who require the most careful education are likely to have received the most neglected one lucian in his curious treatise on tragic pantomime

asserts that the great actor should also be a man of letters, and such were Garrick and Kemble. The lively Girardi throws out some curious information respecting this singular art. Any one may learn a part by rote and do something bad or indifferent on another theatre. With us, the affair is quite otherwise, and when an Italian actor dies, it is with infinite difficulty we can supply his place. An Italian actor learns nothing by head. He looks on the subject for a moment

before he comes forward on the stage and entirely depends on his imagination for the rest. The actor who is accustomed merely to recite what he has been taught is so completely occupied by his memory that he appears to stand, as it were, unconnected either with the audience or his companion. He is so impatient to deliver himself of the burthen he is carrying that he trembles like a schoolboy, or is as senseless as an echo, and could never speak if others had not spoken before.

Such a tutored actor among us would be like a paralytic, armed to a body, an unserviceable member, only fatiguing the healthy action of the sound parts. Our performers, who became illustrious by their art, charmed the spectators by the beauty of their voice, their spontaneous gestures, the flexibility of their passions, while a certain natural air never failed them in their motions and their dialogue. Here then is a species of the histrionic art unknown to us,

and running counter to that critical canon which our great poet but not powerful actor has delivered to the actors themselves to speak no more than is set down for them. The present art consisted in happily performing the reverse. Much of the merit of these actors unquestionably must be attributed to the felicity of the national genius, but there were probably some secret aids in this singular art of extemporal comedy which the pride of the artist has concealed.

Some traits in the character and some wit in the dialogue might descend traditionally, and the most experienced actor on that stage would make use of his memory more than he was willing to confess. Goldoni records an unlucky adventure of his Harlequin Lost and Found, which outline he had sketched for the Italian company. It was well received at Paris, but utterly failed at Fontainebleau, for some of the actors had thought proper to incorporate too

many jokes of the cocu imaginaire, which displeased the court and ruined the piece. When a new piece was to be performed, the chief actors summoned the troupe in the morning, read the plot, and explained the story to contrive scenes. It was like playing the whole performance before the actors. These hints of scenes were all the rehearsal. When the actor entered on the scene, he did not know what was to come, nor had he any prompter to help him on.

Much too depended on the talents of his companions, yet sometimes the scene might be preconcerted. Invention, humor, bold conception of character, and rapid strokes of genius they habitually exercised, and the pantomimic arts of gesture, the passionate or humorous expression of their feelings, would assist an actor when his genius for a moment had deserted him. Such excellence was not long hereditary, and in the decline of this singular art its defects

became more apparent. The race had degenerated, the inexperienced actor became loquacious, long monologues were contrived by a barren genius to hide his incapacity for spirited dialogue, and a wearisome repetition of trivial jests, coarse humor, and vulgar buffoonery, damned the commedia a sujeto, and sunk it to a Bartholomew fair play. But the miracle which genius produced it may repeat, whenever the same happy combination of circumstances and persons

shall occur together. I shall give one anecdote to record the possible excellence of the art. Louis Riccoboni, known in the annals of this theater by the adopted name of Lelio, his favorite amoroso character, was not only an accomplished actor but a literary man, and with his wife Flaminia, afterwards the celebrated novelist, displayed a rare union of talents and of minds. It was suspected that they did not act all improvista from the facility and the elegance of their dialogue,

and a clamor was now raised in the literary circles who had long been jealous of the fascination which attracted the public to the Italian theater. It was said that the Rigobonis were imposing on the public credulity, and that their pretended extemporal comedies were preconcerted scenes. To terminate this civil war between the rival theaters, La Matte offered to sketch a plot in five acts, and the Italians were challenged to perform it. This defiance was instantly accepted.

On the morning of the representation, Lelio detailed the story to his troupe, hung up the scenario in its usual place, and the whole company was ready at the drawing of the curtain. The plot given in by Lamotte was performed to admiration, and all Paris witnessed the triumph. La Mathe afterwards composed this very comedy for the French theatre, La Monde Difficile, yet still the extemporal one at the Italian theatre remained a more permanent favourite,

and the public were delighted by seeing the same piece perpetually offering novelties and changing its character at the fancy of the actors. This fact conveys an idea of dramatic execution which does not enter into our experience. Riccoboni carried the Commedia dell'arte to her new perfection by the introduction of an elegant fable and serious characters, and he raised the dignity of the Italian stage when he inscribed on his curtain

Castigat Redondo Mores.