The stage in the early days of the theatre was not much more than a mere wooden scaffolding, on which the actors appeared, while the chorus performed its dances in the orchestra below. There was a tent on the side turned away from the orchestra which served as a place of waiting for the actors when they had nothing to do on the stage, and it was this tent (σκνή) which gave its name to the stage, although even afterwards distinction was made between the actual stage and the structures connected with it. The real stage was an oblong surface, raised from ten to twelve feet above the orchestra; it was called the proscenium (προσκήνιον), and sometimes the speaking-place (λογεῖον). The lower front wall was decorated in the Roman period with architectural designs, reliefs, or painting; we do not know whether this was also the case in the Greek theatre, as Strack has assumed in his reconstruction, but it is very probable that the front scene, which was turned to the spectators was not left quite bare. In Strack’s view there were also steps leading from the orchestra to the speaking-place. We cannot tell whether these were regularly placed in the theatres. Still, steps between the orchestra and stage were indispensable in those plays in which (as, for instance, in “Philoctetes”) the chorus leaves the orchestra and ascends to the stage; but it is quite possible that there were special wooden steps used for this purpose, which were taken away again when this connection was not required. The existence of these movable steps is especially mentioned in ancient writers.
Connected with this proscenium were the buildings belonging to the stage; these usually formed a structure several storeys in height, which enclosed the stage on three sides (compare Fig. [153]) in the plan of the theatre of Dionysus (Fig. [150]). The older walls belonging to the fourth century are sketched more lightly than the later restorations; here the walls of the stage, the actual skene, is the piece marked G. Z.; on the right and left were side wings (παρασκήνια), and these were terminated by the walls 12 and 13. The latest investigations of Dörpfeld prove that the stage of the theatre of Dionysus, constructed by the orator Lycurgus, had originally no fixed proscenium, but that a fresh wooden stage was constructed on every occasion. In later times they cut off a piece of the two side wings and fixed scenery between them. Several doors led from the tent to the stage; as a rule, there were three in the background, of which the middle one was the entrance of the chief actor, called “Protagonist,” and was supposed to lead either from a royal palace, or a dwelling, or a cave, according to the nature of the play; the door on the right was for the second actor, the one on the left had no special significance. We must not, however, regard these statements as universal. Probably there were usually three entrances to the stage, though in the theatre of Dionysus there is only a single door; but as the front was usually covered by some decoration, these entrances were not directly used, but the actors came through them into the narrow space between the wall of the stage and the decorations, and thence through the doors in the decorations on to the stage. The scenery of the background varied according to the nature of the action, and sometimes required several doors or entrances; sometimes there may have been no door at all, since the actors also had at their disposal the entrances by the side wings. These statements, therefore, only refer to certain plays, especially those tragedies in which the chief personage is a king; in this case, probably, the middle door was the one supposed to lead to the royal palace, and used, therefore, only by the protagonist, although we must not on that account suppose that he always came and went through this door, since the nature of the plays would of itself forbid this. Very often, too, a king appeared in the play whose part was an unimportant one, not given to the protagonist, and then, of course, the rule above quoted could not be observed.
The side wings were used for the actors to wait in, and it is very probable that the chorus also before making their appearance, and during the time when they were not present in the orchestra, retired thither, and that there were passages leading thence to the side entrances. There were also doors communicating with the stage, and these, like those in the orchestra, had their special significance; through the right-hand door came those actors who were supposed to come from the town, and through the left those who came from a distance, such as messengers, guests, friends returning home, etc.
The decorations were only on the stage, the orchestra was left quite bare, and probably had not even any movable properties. It is pure fantasy to suppose that in some plays a connection was established between the stage and orchestra by making the whole represent a mountain with rocky caves, etc. The Greeks assumed a certain amount of illusion, but confined this to the stage; they did not trouble about the space in front, any more than we care to-day about the appearance of the orchestra in front of the opera. It was the scene represented on the stage that gave its significance to the orchestra; if a palace was represented, and the stage represented the place in front of it, then the orchestra became an open space, on which the people assembled; if the background was a temple, the orchestra was the sacred space immediately in front of it (τέμενος), and so on. Possibly the wall under the front of the stage was connected with the decoration, so that if the stage, for instance, represented a wild forest with a cave, the front of the scene was similarly decorated.
Scene-painting, in which Greek art first made an attempt at perspective drawing, had no such difficult and complicated tasks to accomplish in those times as in ours. The chief pieces of scenery were the background and the revolving pieces (περίακτα). The background of the proscenium had to cover the wall of the stage, and also indicate the place of the action, whether a square in front of a palace, or a street with private houses, or a forest, etc. We must not think of the great variety of scenery known to our modern stage; no doubt, too, they were content with very simple execution, merely hinting at the scene required. The background was probably suspended in a wooden scaffolding or frame, and placed immediately before the inner scene front on the floor of the stage. We do not know, however, how the decoration of the background was changed, for change of scene was sometimes necessary even in the ancient drama; perhaps they were in the habit in such cases of placing one of the scenes in front of another, so that, as at the present day, the front decoration had only to be moved, either by dropping it or by dividing it in two parts drawn to the side (for in the absence of rods they could not draw them up), and thus the second scene became visible behind.
The second kind of decoration, which took the place of our movable scenes, were the revolving pieces. These were two contrivances shaped like a three-sided prism, placed on either side of the stage at a little distance from the side-wings; their axis was attached to the wooden floor of the stage, and round this they moved. Each of them had three surfaces for decoration, so that, by turning them round, three different scenes could be represented, and this was doubtless enough for any play, for in the pieces which have come down to us there is only change of scene in two, the “Eumenides” of Aeschylus, and the “Ajax” of Sophocles, and in both these tragedies there is only one change. These revolving pieces must also have had a little store of decorations, for it was very easy to cover them with a change of picture, as they appear to have been simple stands. The theory that the ancient stage had altogether only three scenes for these stands—viz., one for tragedy, one for comedy, and one for the satyric drama, is undoubtedly mistaken.
The Greek stage had no other scenery than that for the background and the revolving pieces; there must have been some movable properties, such as benches, altars, tombs, etc., which are indicated by the contents of many plays preserved to us. It is very doubtful whether the Greek theatre resembled the Roman in the use of a curtain, which, instead of drawing up, sank down into the ground when the play opened; there is no absolute proof that this was the case. The modern prompter’s box was unknown, and it is evident that they did not make use of a prompter.
The machinery of the ancient stage seems to have been very complicated. Of most of the theatrical machines we know only the names, and can form but a very insufficient conception of them. A contrivance in very frequent use was the “rolling-out machine” (ἐκκύκλημα), which, according to the statements of ancient writers, was used to show the spectators proceedings in the interior of a house—as we should say, “behind the scenes;” for in the Greek drama the scene was never laid inside a room, but everything went on in the open air. Our authorities do not, however, enable us to form any clear conception of this contrivance; probably the background opened out in some way, and the person or group which was to be seen on the machine was rolled out on a wooden scaffolding moving on rollers or wheels, which must, of course, have been decorated in some way; in some cases it may have been unnecessary to open out the background, and sufficient for the machine to be pushed in through one of the three doors. There was a similar contrivance for rolling out persons who were to be shown in the upper storey of a house at a corresponding height above the stage, as we see from the “Acharnians” of Aristophanes, where Euripides appears in this manner on a sort of balcony in the upper storey. Another contrivance bore the special name of “machine” (μηχανή), and was the origin of the expression Deus ex machina, used when a god, descending from Olympus, violently cut the knot of the action; this was used for suspending in the air gods, heroes, or mortals, but especially those persons who had to appear above as though flying. We cannot tell where this machine was attached, and how it was worked; there seems to have been a contrivance of this kind on either side of the stage, above the side entrances, near the side pieces, and the one on the left was used by gods, while that on the right was used for other purposes. The machine itself must usually have been kept in some upper storey of the stage structure. It must have been a somewhat dangerous means of transit; the actors who had to perform this aerial journey were usually bound fast with ropes or girths, and in the “Peace” of Aristophanes Trygaeus, when mounting on his aerial horse, the dungbeetle, which must have been a similar flying machine, implores the manager of the machinery, who has to superintend all these arrangements, to be very careful that he does not come to grief. The “gods’ speaking-place” (θεολογεῖον) appears to have been a scaffolding above the chief entrance in the background, on which the gods appeared, probably surrounded by clouds; it differed from the “machine” in showing the gods peacefully throned above, instead of bringing the Olympian deities down to earth. Connected with the “machine” was the “crane” (γέρανος), a crane-like machine let down from above, which was used when human beings were to be lifted up from the stage; as, for instance, when Eos carried away the corpse of Memnon through the air.
They also had machines for producing thunder and lightning. We do not know how the lightning was made, and it is difficult to imagine that it could have been produced with any great result in broad daylight. The thunder was caused by rolling bladders full of little stones to and fro on brass plates in the hollow space under the stage. In this hollow space were also probably the “steps of Charon,” a contrivance for bringing the spirits of the dead on to the stage. Nothing certain is known concerning these steps, but it is very probable that they were managed after the fashion of our trap-doors, for undoubtedly the floor of the stage covered a hollow space, and thus a contrivance of this kind was very easily produced.
We must next consider the plays which had to be performed here. On the old Greek stage there were three kinds of drama—tragedies, comedies, and satyric dramas. The comedies were acted singly, and each constituted a complete whole; but tragedy, as it developed out of the Dionysus legend and the division of the action into three connected therewith, was so constructed that a large circle of myth was treated in three separate tragedies, whose contents were connected, but which were structurally complete in themselves, and these were called a Trilogy. But about the same time the curious custom originated of following up these three serious pieces, with their deeply pathetic contents, by a merry satyric drama by the same author,—a wild farce, in which a chorus of satyrs was introduced in connection with some mythical action, which of course, only appeared in travesty; and this combination of four dramas was called a Tetralogy. Unfortunately no tetralogy has come down complete to us; the trilogy of Aeschylus alone, which deals with the story of Orestes, gives us some notion of the mode in which the tragic poets arranged their material in the form of a trilogy. The first part, “Agamemnon,” represents the murder of Agamemnon by Clytemnestra and Aegisthus; the second, the “Choephorae,” the vengeance taken by Orestes on the murderers; the third, the “Eumenides,” the absolution for the murder of his mother by the Areopagus. The tragic poets did not very long abide by the custom of presenting complete tetralogies at the Dionysia, in which the trilogy presented one connected subject. It attained its complete development under Aeschylus, but Sophocles already began to depart from it, and in the tetralogies with which he and Euripides competed, the internal connection between the tragedies was wanting. In later times it was customary for tragedies complete in themselves to be acted singly, so that the poets competed with drama against drama; still, the inscriptions show us that even in the fourth century tetralogies were acted, though they may not have been connected. Each of these three kinds of drama underwent several changes during the course of Greek literature.