Theatre Production - Antony and Cleopatra

If Mr. Tree were the worst actor that ever trod the English stage he would still be entitled to our gratitude for the poetical manner in which he treats the works of our greatest poet-dramatist. No one but a man of the keenest imagination, the most subtle fancy, can so read the text of such a play as "Antony and Cleopatra" that the vivid mind of the author shall stand forth in all the grandness of its original and fertile power. It is an easy task for the pedant and the crank to find fault with Mr. Tree's method of treating Shakespeare. The cutting away of a scene here, of a page there, is quite sufficient for the caviller to base his remarks upon, and, however futile his objections are from the practical standpoint, he insists on making his voice heard. However, the British public is not influrenced, by faddists, and Mr. Tree's artistic and ambitious endeavours are crowned with the laurels which they deserve.

In the production of "Antony and Cleopatra" he has surpassed himself, and that without going beyond the limits of good taste, or burdening the poet's conception with extravagant details. If there were no other reason for the playgoer to visit His Majesty's he would be justified in paying his money to witness a series of scenes which revive in such a brilliant manner the pageantry and military glory of a far distant age. A very great and a very successful effort has been made to stage this story of Eastern life with the glowing intensity which is characteristic of the Oriental mind, and to environ it with the atmosphere of passion which dominated the existence of the wondrous woman who enslaved Rome's proudest warrior. It was as if one breathed the air of Egypt and heard the murmuring of the placid waters as the stately vessel brought the lovers to the landing stage of Cleopatra's Palace. A more effective entrance could not have been devised, and here we realized that the keynote of well-calculated splendour has been surely and firmly struck.

In the next act a striking effort has been made to represent a Bacchanalian orgie on Pompey's Galley, and the public have the unique opportunity of seeing four Emperors gloriously drunk; but somehow this particular scene struck me as being a little out or the picture; that Mr. Tree's judgment was at fault in laying stress on this phase of the manners of the time; it threw Cleopatra too far into the background, and she cannot be spared from the stage to make way for the bibulous babbling of potentates in their cups.

PRESS REVIEW

(Lloyds Weekly News [London, UK] - 30th December, 1906)
His Majesty's

In Antony and Cleopatra, which drew an enthusiastic audience on Thursday evening, Mr. Tree may be said to have surpassed his own record in the matter of display. Happily the spectacle does not dwarf the play but rather adds to its effect. The five acts and thirty-eight scenes of Shakspere are rearranged in four acts and eighteen scenes, the first showing Antony with Cleopatra at Alexandria and the scene in Rome between Lepidus and Octavius Csssar; the second revealing Antony, free from the fascinations of Cleopatra, joining his fellow-governors to oppose Pompey, the fury of Cleopatra on hearing of Antony's marriage with Octavia, and the revels on Pompey's galley; the third showing Antony drawn again to Egypt by the blandishments of beauty and in conflict with Caesar; and the fourth depicting the defeat and death of the hero and heroine and Ceasar's final supremacy.

The rearrangement of the play did not altogether prevent some confusion of the plot, and the want of continuity in the action must have had a disturbing influence upon the interest of many among the audience, while it is not necessary to tell the student of Shakspere and the practised playgoer that the play does not make for too much excitement. It has some fine dramatic moments, but it excites attention chiefly by the pictures it presents of luxurious enjoyment and by the splendour of its surroundings. True we are concerned, and deeply concerned, in watching how Antony is beguiled by Egypt's beauteous queen. As has been said, it is Hercules in the chains of Omphale, and we like to follow the forging of the chains; but some of the other personages of historical importance count for little on the stage.

There is, however, a notable exception in the sturdy, satirical, and honest-hearted Enobarbus. He interests us from the beginning. We smile as he lets fly the shafts of his wit, and we give him of our sympathy in the repentance that comes upon him after he has deserted Antony and gone over to the side of Caesar; and on Thursday this Enobarbus had the more attention seeing that he was represented in such masterly fashion by Mr. Lyn Harding, who brought down the house with the famous speech descriptive of Cleopatra's barge.

And this brings us to our point, which is that the revival is most remarkable by reason of the wealth of its display, in which artistic taste has play, and which everywhere shows good managerial judgment directed by the practised hand of Mr. Percy Macquoid. In the beautiful scenes painted by Mr. Joseph Harker, in the lovely Eastern costumes (made by Messrs. B. J. Simmons and Co.), in the marble terraces, and cooling waters, and lofty pillars, and picturesque crowds, the eye is delighted, and imagination is stirred, until the spectators almost begin to give way to the enervating influence of the luxury that abounds. The arrival of Cleopatra in her beautiful barge was but the beginning of a series of wonderful stage effects that reached the topmost point of grandeur in the tableau of the third act, showing the return of Antony to Alexandria, and his joyous welcome by Cleopatra and her people. Before this there was another striking picture showing Pompey's galley with revelry in progress, and beautiful women dancing and poor Lepidus very drunk, quite an impressive contrast coming later with the darkness that followed the putting out of the lights and the rumbling thunder that seemed to tell of coming catastrophe. And Mr. Tree's patrons are sure to be filled with surprised admiration by the ingenious method adopted for getting Antony into the monument whence Cleopatra has sent out fictitious news of her death.

Mr. Tree's impersonation of Antony has on the whole merited warm praise. The actor was at his best when Antony, having "kissed away kingdoms," was filled with shame and remorse, and, meeting his temptress, cried, in the bitterness of his heart, "O whither hast thou led me, Egypt?" Miss Constance Collier as Cleopatra was in many passages magnificent, and did ample justice to the fury of Egypt's queen on hearing of her lord's union with Octavia. The death scene, too, was most impressively enacted. Of the Enobarbus of Mr. Lyn Harding we have spoken, and it remains only to say that most excellent support was given by Mr. Basil Gill as Octavius Caesar, Mr. Julian L'Estrange as Pompey, Mr. Norman Forbes as Lepidus, Mr. J. Fisher White as Soothsayer, Mr. C. Quartermaine as Cleopatra's messenger, Miss Hilda Moore as Iras, and Miss Alice Crawford, the last-named finding especial favour as the devoted Charmian.

Antony and Cleopatra is not exactly, as Mr. Tree says it is, the tragedy of a world-passion redeemed by love, but at His Majesty's it makes a great and glorious spectacle.

But if Mr. Tree erred in this item, he made no mistake in conjuring up the gorgeous tableau which pictures the return of Antony to Alexandria. Here, indeed, was the fancy of the poet's brain put into living and concrete form by the rich imagination of the actor. That Mr. Tree owes much to that distinguished artist Mr. Percy Macquoid, R.I., and the skill of Mr. Joseph Barker, to say nothing of the costumes so splendidly executed by Messrs. B. J. Simmons & Co., detracts nothing from the merit which rightfully belongs to him who took his inspiration from a few words, and on that slight structure erected a glorious monument to Shakespeare's instinct for picturing the luxury of the Orient whilst dwelling amid the prosaic surroundings of London three centuries ago.

Beautiful also, but in quite another manner, are the scenes outside and within Cleopatra's Monument. There were moments in the earlier parts of the play when it appeared to hang loosely together, when it became an effort to concentrate the mind on the action of the drama, but in the final section there was no withstanding the spell of the poet or being sluggishly inclined towards the actors. Mr. Tree, burdened with the cares of production and with the responsibility of management, had not been doing himself justice in some of the amorous scenes with "Cleopatra," but in the great tragic moment of the play the actor and the artist rose superior to all else and took us with him.

Nor must I forget to record the splendid assistance given him by Miss Constance Collier whose Cleopatra is the apex of a career that has heen distinguished by singular tenacity of purpose, of a persistent struggling up the mountainous pathway of art, and has more than justified the rich and unexpected promise she showed in Mr. Esmond's pretty comedy "One Summer's Day." Not only in her death scene did she exhibit the rare quality of a genuine tragedienne, but she stamped her mark on the play in the second act when the messenger brings her tidings of Antony's marriage with Octavia. In this scene Miss Collier gave a vivid picture of the woman mad with jealous rage, wounded and scorned by the man who represented to her more than Empire and worldly power. And when, with forced smile, she sought to wring from the messenger's lips words of detraction concerning her too successful rival, Miss Collier caught with admirable art the facial expression necessary to convey to the audience the conflicting emotions which, like angry waves, were rushing with torrential violence through her distracted mind. Miss Collier has something, nay, a great deal, of the grand manner which is so necessary for the delivery of grand thoughts, couched in blank verse. She does not deliver poetry as though it were quotations from a newspaper money article; she has a sense of rhythm, an instinct for oral melody, the turning of a phrase into music, and with such natural gifts and the experience born of time, it may be that Miss Collier will develop into the great actress for whom we are so anxiously waiting.

Another artist who delights us with his speaking powers is Mr. Lyn Harding, who gave the fine speech allotted to Enobarbus in a manner which brought forth a spontaneous and very hearty applause. Mr. Norman Forbes gave a finished study of the role of Lepidus. Mr. Basil Gill's resonant voice and manly bearing did him good service as Octavius, Mr. Julian L'Estrange, Mr. H. C. Buckler, Mr. Charles Quatermaine as the Messenger, and Mr. J. Fisher White as the Soothsayer. were among many others who contributed to an excellent ensemble. Miss Alice Crawford occupied a well-earned position as Charmian by the side of those who worked to such good purpose to make the evening memorable in the annals of His Majesty's Theatre.

Shakespeare ennobled the character of Antony to a certain extent. "Plutarch depicts him as a Hercules in stature, and inclined to ape the demigod by certain affectations of dress; a hearty, rough soldier, given to praising himself and making game of others, but capable, too, of enduring banter as well as praise. His inclination to prodigality and luxurious living made him rapacious, but he was ignorant of most of the infamies that were committed in his name. There was no craft in his nature, but he was brutal, recklessly profligate, and devoid of all sense of decency. A popular, light-hearted, free-handed general, who sat far too many hours at table - indifferent whether it were with his own soldiers or with princes - who showed himself drunken on the public street, and would "sleepe out his drunkennesse" in the light of day, degraded himself by the lowest debauchery, exhausted whole treasuries on his journeys, travelled with priceless gold and silver plate for his table, had chariots driven by lions, gave away tens of thousands of pounds in a single gift; but in defeat and misfortune rose to his full height as the inspiriting leader who uncomplainingly renounced all his own comforts and kept up the courage of his men. Calamity always raised him above himself - a sufficient proof that, in spite of everything, he was not without a strain of greatness. There was something of the stage-king in him, something of the Murat, a touch of Skobeloff, and suggestion of the medieval knight.

What could be less antique than his twice challenging Octavius to single combat? And in the end, when misfortune overwhelmed him, and those on whom he had showered benefits ungratefully forsook him, there was something in him that recalled Timon of Athens nursing his melancholy and his bitterness. He himself recognised the affinity. There was a crevice in this antique figure through which Shakespeare's soul could creep in. He had no difficulty in imagining himself into Antony's moods; he was able to play him just as, in his capacity of actor, he could play a part that was quite in his line. Antony possessed that power of metamorphosis which is the essence of the artist nature. He was at one and the same time a master in the art of dissimulation - see his funeral oration in Julius Caesar, and in this play the manner in which he takes Octavia to wife - and an open, honest character, he was in a way faithful, felt closely bound to his mistress and to his comrades-in-arms, and was yet alarmingly unstable. In other words, his was an artist-nature.

Of all Shakspeare's female characters, Miranda and Cleopatra appear to me the most wonderful. The first, unequalled as a poetic conception, the latter miraculous as a work of art. If we could make a regular classification of his characters, these would form the two extremes of simplicity and complexity; and all his other characters would be found to fill up some shade or gradation between these two.

Cleopatra is a brilliant antithesis, a compound of contradictions, of all that we most hate with what we most admire. The whole character is the triumph of the external over the innate; and yet like one of her country's hieroglyphics, though she present at first view a splendid and perplexing anomaly, there is deep meaning and wondrous skill in the apparent enigma, when we come to analyse and decipher it. But how are we to arrive at the solution of this glorious riddle, whose dazzling complexity continually mocks and eludes us? What is most astonishingin the character of Cleopatra is its antithetical construction, its consistent inconsistency, if I may use such an expression, which renders it quite impossible to reduce it to any elementary principles. It will, perhaps, be found, on the whole, that vanity and the love of power predominate; but I dare not say it is so, for these qualities and a hundred others mingle into each other, and shift, and change, and glance away, like the colours in a peacock's train.

In some others of Shakspeare's female characters, also remarkable for their complexity (Portia and Juliet, for instance), we are struck with the delightful sense of harmony in the midst of contrast, so that the idea of unity and simplicity of effect is produced in the midst of variety; but in Cleopatra it is the absence of unity and simplicity which strikes us; the impression is that of perpetual and irreconcilable contrast. The continual approximation of whatever is most opposite in character, in situation, in sentiment, would be fatiguing, were it not so perfectly natural: the woman herself would be distracting if she were not so enchanting.

have not the slightest doubt that Shakspeare's Cleopatra is the real historical Cleopatra - the "rare Egyptian" - individualized and placed before us. Her mental accomplishments, her unequalled grace, her woman's wit and woman's wiles, her irresistible allurements, her starts of irregular grandeur, her bursts of ungovernable temper, her vivacity of imagination, her petulent caprice, her fickleness and her falsehood, her tenderness and her truth, her childish susceptibility to flattery, her magnificent spirit, her royal pride, the gorgeous eastern colouring of the character - all these contradictory elements has Shakspeare seized, mingled them in their extremes, and fused them into one brilliant impersonation of classical elegance, Oriental voluptuousness, and gipsy sorcery.

What better proof can we have of the individual truth of the character than the admission that Shakspeare's Cleopatra produces exactly the same effect on us that is recorded of the real Cleopatra? She dazzles our faculties, perplexes our judgment, bewilders and bewitches our fancy; from the beginning to the end of the drama, we are conscious of a kind of fascination against which our moral sense rebels, but from which there is no escape. The epithets applied to her perpetually by Antony and others confirm this impression; "enchanting queen!" "witch" "spell" "great fairy" - "cockatrice" "serpent of old Nile" - "thou grave charm!" are only a few of them; and who does not know by heart the famous quotations in which this Egyptian Circe is described, with all her infinite seductions?

Fie! wrangling queen!
Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh,
To weep; whose every passion fully strives
To make itself, in thee, fair and admir'd.
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety for vilest things
Become themselves in her.

n representing the mutual passion of Antony and Cleopatra as real and fervent, Shakspeare has adhered to the truth of history as well as to general nature. On Antony's side it is a species of infatuation, a single and engrossing feeling: it is, in short, the love of a man declined in years for a woman very much younger than himself, and who has subjected him by every species of female enchantment. In Cleopatra the passion is of a mixed nature, made up of real attachment, combined with the love of pleasure, the love of power, and the love of self. Not only is the character most complicated, but no one sentiment could have existed pure and unvarying in such a mind as hers: her passion in itself is true, fixed to one centre; but, like the pennon streaming from the mast, it flutters and veers with every breath of her variable temper: yet in the midst of all her caprices, follies, and even vices, womanly feeling is still predominant in Cleopatra, and the change which takes place in her deportment towards Antony, when their evil fortune darkens round them, is as beautiful and interesting in itself as it is striking and natural. Instead of the airy caprice and provoking petulance she displays in the first scenes, we have a mixture of tenderness, and artifice, and fear, and submissive blandishment. Her behaviour, for instance, after the battle of Actium, when she quails before the noble and tender rebuke of her lover, is partly female subtlety and partly natural feeling.

History is followed closely in all the details of the catastrophe, and there is something wonderfully grand in the hurried march of events towards the conclusion. As disasters hem her round, Cleopatra gathers up her faculties to meet them, not with the calm fortitude of a great soul, but the haughty, tameless spirit of a wilful woman unused to reverse or contradiction. Her speech, after Antony has expired in her arms, I have always regarded as one of the most wonderful in Shakspeare. Cleopatra is not a woman to grieve silently. The contrast between the violence of her passions and the weakness of her sex, between her regal grandeur and her excess of misery, her impetuous, unavailing struggles with the fearful destiny which has compassed her, and the mixture of wild impatience and pathos in her agony, are really magnificent. She faints on the body of Antony, and is recalled to life by the cries of her women:

IRAS - Royal Egypt - empress!
CLEO - No more, but e'en a-woman; and commanded by such poor-passion as the maid that milks and does the meanest chores.