The little country theater

by Alfred G. Arvold

Scene—“Back to the Farm” By Mereline Shumway

Three outdoor spectacles, “The Pastimes of the Ages,” “The Enchantment of Spring,” and “The Master Builder” revealed the infinite possibilities of the drama in picturing “tongues in trees, books in running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.” All of these pageants and many more aim to teach the people who live in God’s gardens to appreciate their surroundings. “The Pastimes of the Ages,” as well as the other two outdoor plays, was presented on a flat prairie, a parade ground about three or four hundred feet from The Little Country Theater. Over fifteen thousand people saw the spectacle and twelve hundred people took part in it. The scene was a most impressive one. At one end of the natural outdoor amphitheater the silent sphinx and three pyramids rose in all their Oriental grandeur. At the other stood a temple of glittering gold, in which the Spirit of Mirth reigned supreme. The play opened with Mirth running out of the temple singing and dancing. In the distance she saw a caravan approaching the pyramids. She beckoned them to come forward. The grand procession followed. On entering the temple the sojourners were greeted by flower maidens. Mirth then bade the caravan to be seated on the steps of marble and witness some of “The Pastimes of the Ages.” The Greek games were played. An Egyptian ballet was danced. Forty maidens clad in robes of purple with hands stretched heavenward chanted a prayer. Two hundred uniformed Arabs drilled. The chimes rang. Mirth gestured for all to rise and sing. The bands en masse struck the notes of that song immortal, written by Francis Scott Key. The caravan, having seen all the pastimes in which men and women have indulged in ages gone by, journeyed back to the place from whence it came. And the story of the most gorgeous spectacle ever seen, on the Dacotah prairie ended.

“The Enchantment of Spring” was a pageant in two episodes, with its theme taken from the field of agriculture. The setting was The Temple of Ceres. The Herald of Spring came to the temple with Neptune the God of Water, Mother Earth, Growth, Apollo the God of the Sun, Persephone emblematical of the vegetable world, Demeter the Goddess of Grains, Flora the Goddess of Flowers, and Pomona the Goddess of Fruits, to announce the approach of Spring. The trumpeters signaled the coming of the east and west and north and south winds. They met, they quarreled and Fate drove the north wind away. The three winds then counseled with Neptune, Apollo, and Mother Earth, companions of Growth, as to her whereabouts. They finally discovered Growth at work and bade her to go to the temple. The welcome and the rejoicing followed. At the entry of Spring, the flowers awoke. Ceres called to Spring to come to the steps of the temple. The Crowning of Spring ended the pageant. When it was produced, it opened up the vision of many people as to the latent possibilities of the drama in the vocation of agriculture.

Festival—“The Pastimes of the Ages.” By Alfred Arnold. Parade Grounds, North Dakota Agricultural College, Fargo, North Dakota

Just recently “The Master Builder” was presented. The scene of the story was laid in the Great Outdoors. The play centers about a man who builds, a mechanic called the Master Builder. In his dream a vision comes to him, a picture of a beautiful temple that he has longed for years to construct. Around him and about him the dream children dance. They are the messengers that tell him that the workmen are coming. Before him in a procession, passes Ahura Mazda and the Sun Worshipers, Vulcanus and the torch-bearers, Atlas and his men of power, the Great Architect and his associates, Praxiteles and the stone-cutters, Tubal Cain and the blacksmiths, Joseph and the carpenters, and Michael Angelo and the painters. After he consults with the architects and approves the plans, they sing and rejoice. Nature’s forces—light, power, and fire—combine to help him realize his dream. Even the flames, often the elements of destruction, turn their energies into power to help him. Finally, Praxiteles and the stone-cutters begin the temple, and Joseph and the carpenters, Tubal Cain and the blacksmiths, Michael Angelo and the painters complete it. The Anvil Chorus plays, Enlightenment awakens the Master Builder from his dream, and Achievement shows him that his vision has been realized. The beautiful temple stands before him.

All three of these spectacles show untold dramas in fields of thought yet untouched. They were mediums through which the ideals, the traditions, and the beauties of nature and human nature could be expressed.

The great mass of people in the state love good plays. Just like most folks, they want something with a homely story mixed with a few bits of comedy. Ninety out of a hundred persons are usually human, anyway. “David Harum,” a three-act comedy by Eugene Noyes Westcott, seemed to hit the right spot with hundreds of the Dacotah folks. Personally, I do not believe a finer piece of non-professional acting has ever been done in America than that of the young man who took the part of David Harum. His phenomenal success in the character is all due to the fact that he lived the part every time he acted it. Naturally, he had strong support in the presentation of the play.

One incident in regard to the place of its production I shall never forget. During the past twenty-five years it has been my good fortune to see plays and programs presented in village halls, schoolhouses, churches, homes, country stores, gymnasiums, auditoriums, theaters, hotels, barns, parks, groves, streets, and other places. But I have never had the good fortune to see a baseball diamond used for a theater, and on the Fourth of July, with a play like “David Harum.” It all happened down at Lisbon. The second baseball game had just finished. It was about six-thirty in the evening. A frame of two-by-four scantling was erected and braced like a city billboard. The center of the frame was exactly nine feet from the home plate. On it fourteen foot green draperies were hung. A large soiled canvas was laid on the worn ground for the stage. Three electric bulbs with a few batteries and two good sized automobiles furnished all the light necessary for the production. The baseball pits, where the players stay before they are called upon to bat, were used as dressing rooms. The crowd began to assemble at half past seven, and at eight o’clock the bleachers were brimful. The overflow crowd was seated on planks close up to the stage. For two solid hours and on the Fourth of July, mind you, several hundred people sat, watched, and listened to David Harum. Not a soul left. The interest manifested by the audience was tense at all times. It was one of the most unique instances ever experienced by the writer.