A Book of Marionettes

by Helen Haiman Joseph

Then a little later came the wonderful shadows, now designated as Ombres Françaises, and shown at the Chat Noir, famous cabaret of Montmartre where gathered literary and artistic Bohemia. “The Chat Noir has an art of its own,” writes Anatole France, “that is at once mystic and impious, ironical, sad, simple and profound, but never reverential. It is epic and mocking in the hands of the precise Caran d’Ache. It has a bland and melancholy viciousness in Willette, who is, as it were, the Fra Angelico of the cabarets. It is symbolic and naturalistic with the very capable Henri Rivière. The forty scenes of the ”Tentation“ of St. Anthony amaze me. They exhibit lovely coloring, daring fancy; impressive beauty and forcible meaning. I put them far above the imps depicted by the austere Callot.” These comedies, spectacles, military epics, oratorios, mysteries, Greek scenes, burlesques and pantomimes, were indeed conceived with a certain large poetic glamour. It was Caran d’Ache who made the great artistic contribution of giving up articulation of individual figures, for the most part, to move great numbers of them along. He invented perspective in shadows, using masses of figures in different planes and producing a sense of solidarity and immensity. His masterpiece, Epopée, the evocation of the Grand Army of Napoleon, presented with epic grandeur company after company of cuirassiers in long lines, the profiles diminishing in height as the figures receded from the eyes. It conveyed, as one critic avers, the idea of great space and of a vast army of men marching in serried ranks “to victory or to death.” A few single figures were allowed to stand out distinctly like the Little Corporal on horseback, there was little speech only music and an occasional command. The effect of this military silhouette was most impressive.

Next came Henri Rivière, who added the variety of color to the shadows, and furthermore, by the use of two magic lanterns, created dissolving views so that the background might be altered at will. The subjects of his elaborate pantomimes were such as The Wandering Jew, The Prodigal Son, and The Temptation of St. Anthony. Of the latter, Rehm has given us an admiring appreciation. “We saw the sun setting into the sea, the forests trembling in the morning breeze; we saw deserts stretching out into the infinite, the oceans surging, great cities flaming up in the evening with artificial lights and the moon silvering the ripples of the rivers upon which barges were silently and slowly gliding along. He (Rivière) employs everything from the picturesque style of watercolor spread on with a brush to the imitation of Japanese color prints, pen sketch and poster style, Gothic or Pre-Raphaelite characteristics and naturalistic impressionism. In The Sphinx where the conquerors of all centuries, from the Pharaohs to Napoleon, file past this monument of eternity; in his March of the Stars where shepherds and their flocks, beggars, slaves and fishermen, and the Wise Men from the East make their pilgrimage to the Virgin with the Divine Child; in the Enfant Prodigue where the son of the patriarch sets out for Egypt accompanied by his herds, his caravan, his riders,—to return, a beggar,—everywhere we see this art, dreamlike and philosophic, legendary, fantastic, sublime, creating ecstatic illusions.” Of The Sphinx, a collaboration of Rivière and Caran d’Ache, Jules Lemaître writes, “Here we have a true epic poem, simple yet grandiose.”

Thus the magic touch of genius has transformed naïve shadows into something altogether wonderful while crude pupazzi, animated with thumb and fingers of the artist, have grown gloriously sophisticated. The marionettes that are moved by wire or string also had their renaissance in the sympathetic, stimulating atmosphere of Paris. Their technical development J. M. Petite has called a veritable triumph of ingeniousness, of prestidigitation, and of mechanics. The first of the Operator-Magicians was Thomas Holden, who came to Paris around 1875. His puppets performed the most perilously difficult feats. Following in his footsteps came two brothers who rivalled him in skill; Alfred and Charles de Saint-Genois, who took the names of Dickson and John Hewelt respectively. The puppets of Dickson are said to have operated as if by magic. They were mute and appeared on the stage singly, but the perfect elasticity and the winged grace of their gestures seemed truly supernatural. They were displayed at the celebrated theatre of Robert Houdin.

John Hewelt gave productions of quite a different nature. He constructed not only a marionette stage for his actors, but an orchestra of puppets with an animated little leader, and diminutive spectators in the front boxes, a little lady with an opera glass, another with a fan, perfectly gowned in the latest fashions, applauding or chatting after the approved manner. Upon the stage appeared startlingly lifelike figures impersonating Yvette Guilbert and other celebrated actresses and actors of the day. Hewelt stood concealed on a platform overlooking and manipulated his puppets by three controls, with his feet as well as his hands. But despite his unsurpassed inventiveness, his production did not quite satisfy the spirit. One marvelled at the difficulties overcome more than at the beauty of the performance.

As ingenious mechanically as the shows of John Hewelt and Dickson, but conceived and carried out in a far more inspired and artistic manner, were the puppets of the Galérie Vivienne. Le Petit Théâtre de M. Henri Signoret (1888–1892) has been immortalized in the writings of Anatole France, most rare and delicate critic. It was an undertaking seriously entered upon by some of the artistic spirits in Paris who desired to witness intelligent and sympathetic performances of the classic drama of all lands; Greek plays, the mysteries of the Middle Ages, Italian and Spanish comedy of the sixteenth century. Apparently the stage of the day did not satisfy this desire. After encountering insurmountable difficulties in assembling an adequate cast of good actors, it was decided to use marionettes. Forty friends, all artists, combined to help the director, who was the fastidious literateur, M. Signoret. The result was a brilliant success.

The theatre was like a little jewel case in its delicate detail; it seated only two hundred and fifty people. The puppets were most carefully constructed. The same skeleton framework was used for them all but individual heads, hands and chests were put on each frame which was finally costumed according to design. Both the modelling of the faces and the costuming were the inspired creations of artists. The marionettes were moved on rails in grooves or slides, the arms and neck being wired and manipulated by pedals from underneath. The audience was seated low so that the mechanism was invisible. The public who patronized this marionette theatre, indeed, consisted of such interesting people as Jules Lemaître, Émile Faguet, Anatole France, Hugues Leroux, and they were unanimous in their approval. The repertoire included classic drama of every epoch: The Birds by Aristophanes, Abraham by the Abbess Hrotswitha, Gardien Vigilant by Cervantes, The Tempest by Shakespeare, Tobie and The Legend of St. Cecelia by M. Boucher, L’Amour dans les Enfers by Amédée Pigeon written expressly for the marionettes of M. Signoret.

But let the fluent pen of the illustrious and enthusiastic witness picture them to you. “I have already made the avowal,” declares Anatole France, “I love the marionettes and those of M. Signoret please me particularly. These marionettes resemble the Egyptian hieroglyphics, that is to say, something mysterious and pure and when they represent a drama of Shakespeare or Aristophanes I think I see the thoughts of the poet being unrolled in sacred characters upon the walls of the temple.” Of the representation of The Tempest he writes: “M. Signoret’s marionettes have just acted Shakespeare’s Tempest. It is hardly an hour since the curtain of the little theatre fell on the harmonious group of Ferdinand and Miranda. I am still under the charm; as Prospero says, ‘I do yet taste some subtleties of the Isle.’ What a delightful play! And how true it is that exquisite things are doubly exquisite when they are unaffected....

“Look at the marionettes of The Tempest. The hand that carved them imprinted on them the features of the ideal, whether it be tragic or comic. M. Belloc, a pupil of Mercie, has modelled for the little theatre heads which are either powerfully grotesque or of a charming purity. His Miranda has the subtle grace of a figure of the early Italian Renaissance and the virginal fragrance of that fortunate fifteenth century which made beauty bloom a second time in the world. His Ariel in his gauze tunic spangled with silver reminds one of a miniature Tanagra figure, doubtless because aerial elegance of form is a particular attribute of Hellenic art in its decline.

“These two pretty puppets spoke with the clear voices of Mesdemoiselles Paule Verne and Cecile Dorelle. As for the more masculine parts in the drama, Prospero, Caliban, and Stephano, poets such as MM. Maurice Bouchor, Raoul Ponchan, Amédée Pigeon, Felix Rabbé spoke for them. Not to mention Coquelin, cadet, who did not disdain to repeat the prologue as well as the amusing part of Trinculo, the clown.

“The decorations also had their poetry. M. Lucien Doucet represented Prospero’s cave with that cunning grace which is one of the characteristics of his talent, etc.”