"'Brothers in Suffering and Joy': the Appia-Craig Correspondence", New Theatre Quarterly, Vol.4;15,...

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‘Brothers in Suffering and Joy’:the Appia–CraigCorrespondence

Richard C. Beacham

New Theatre Quarterly / Volume 4 / Issue 15 / August 1988, pp 268 - 288DOI: 10.1017/S0266464X00002827, Published online: 15 January 2009

Link to this article: http://journals.cambridge.org/abstract_S0266464X00002827

How to cite this article:Richard C. Beacham (1988). ‘Brothers in Suffering and Joy’:the Appia–Craig Correspondence. NewTheatre Quarterly, 4, pp 268-288 doi:10.1017/S0266464X00002827

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Richard C. Beacham

' Brothers in Suffering and Joy': theAppia—Craig CorrespondenceThe names of Appia and Craig are often linked as prophets of the 'new' theatre - andas early as 1915 critics were beginning to stake invidious claims as to which was thedominant 'influence'. In fact, they arrived by separate paths at artistic conclusions someof which were compatible - and some of which reflected their very differenttemperaments and sense of theatrical priorities. At last, in 1914, the two men met, anduntil a few years before Appia's death in 1928 conducted an intermittent but intimatecorrespondence, which has previously been unpublished. Richard C. Beacham, whoteaches in the Joint School of Theatre Studies in the University of Warwick, publisheda study of the relationship between Appia and Jaques-Dalcroze at Hellerau in NTQ 2and 3. and here provides an illuminating commentary to extensive extracts from theAppia-Craig correspondence. His full-length study of Appia appears in the 'Directors inPerspective' series from Cambridge University Press.

ALTHOUGH Adolphe Appia and EdwardGordon Craig never worked together, norspent any significant time in each other'scompany, their names were linked as early as1913 — before they had yet met or corresponded— and have remained so. A great many articlesand books have explored or asserted therelationship of each man's work to that of theother, and, almost from the first, claims of pre-eminence were made on behalf of one or theother artist. In the process the relevant factswere sometimes obscured or trivialized.

Kenneth Macgowan felt it necessary by 1921to set the record straight:

In the future there may develop much controversyover the positions of Appia and Gordon Craig in thehistory of the new stagecraft. The facts are simplebut relatively unimportant • Appia printed his firstbook of theory in French in 1893. He drew some ofhis most famous designs for Wagnerian settings in1895 and 1896. He published his elaborate study ofthe art of the theatre...in 1899. Craig, who beganas an actor, left Irving's company in 1896 to studystage management. He made his first productions inLondon about 1900. His first exhibition of designswas in 1902. His first published writings appearedin 1905}

To this one should add that whereas Appia wasthe first to publish his designs and theory, Craig

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preceded Appia in undertaking practical work.Macgowan went on to assert, judiciously andsensibly, that the question of who was theoriginator of the new theatrical movement was' perplexed and pointless.... I believe myself thatthey were merely two answering parts in acomplex of nervous forces which were playedupon by a new creative Zeitgeist in the years1895 to 1905. Appia answered a little morequickly, that is all.'2

Nevertheless, ever since 1915, when anAmerican periodical published an article sug-gesting that 'without Appia there would havebeen no Craig',3 the controversy over therelative importance and originality of the twohas continued, fuelled along the way bypolemical assertions made on behalf of one manor the other.

There is considerable irony, and some causefor sadness, in this debate, since Craig andAppia themselves neither recognized nor en-couraged any such mean-spirited comparison;indeed each had the greatest esteem andaffection for the other, and each was serenelyaware both of the merits of the other's work,and of the degree to which it was similar to ordifferent from his own. Neither felt in the leastthreatened, compromised, or exploited by whateach, better than most, could perceive as theindependent creativity of the other.

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The First Meeting

Craig had first seen examples of Appia's designsin 1908, recognized an affinity between theirwork, but was told that Appia was dead - anerror which, unhappily, he repeated in 1911in the first English edition of his On the Art ofthe Theatre. The next year, however, while inMoscow working on his Hamlet, he learned thatAppia was indeed alive, and was shown somephotographs of his designs. He pronouncedthem 'divine', and 'the work of the foremoststage-decorator of Europe'.4 He recorded hisexcitement in his diary on 27 December 1911,noting that 'his work and mine are closelyunited'. Craig determined to meet Appia at thefirst opportunity.5

In 1913 the work of both men was displayedat a theatrical exhibition in Mannheim — thefirst, indirect association between them. InMarch of the same year, Craig was invited byJacques Rouche to 'stage a portion of Gluck'sOrpheus, the first act, and part of the last' withhim in Paris. This is intriguing, since Roucheknew Appia, and must also have been wellaware of the production by Appia of Act Twoof Orpheus at Hellerau the previous summer;indeed, he attended the second staging a fewmonths after his letter to Craig. He may perhapshave been intent on bringing about a mostinteresting development: the first direct com-parison of Craig and Appia's work in practice.Craig did not, however, take up the invitation.8

The first opportunity for a meeting betweenthe two men came in February 1914, when thework of both was shown at the InternationalTheatre Exhibition in Zurich - an event whichattracted wide interest, drawing attention tosome of the highly innovative changes takingplace in theatrical art. According to Craig,writing a few months after the exhibition, 'wetwo swept the board and it glissened - 1 meanhe polished it and I held the broom'.7 Yearslater he recalled how 'we were together most ofthree whole days - we managed to talk scrapsof German, English and French',8 and, at thetime, wrote a fascinating account of theirmeeting in his Daybook.

The men got along famously, laughing andgesturing with signs, since they shared nolanguage, and establishing an intense rapport:

How we talked — why we said nothing but laughedand winked and nodded and shook again withsuppressed mirth - AlleluiaII...but no division byany word, only continual acknowledgement of ourancient union.9

Both men were moved to recognize an intenseartistic bond, a shared ideal to which they bothpaid homage for the rest of their lives, while atthe same time also respecting the differencesbetween them. Craig wrote of Appia, 'he is sofar better than I am - 1 was quite unbeknown byhim and he unbeknown to me and we weremoving straightly on the same point with all ornearly all the same thoughts, feelings, andsights in our two selves'.10

Denis Bablet has summed up Craig's approachto scenography in terms which might equallywell describe the ideas upon which Appia'sreforms were based:

In his view, the presentation of a drama must revealto us the inner life, the very essence of this drama.The complete picture offered to us by the productionmust at each moment correspond to the variousphases of the dramatic action. The decor is not anautonomous frame, the objective presentation of aplace in which the action would be as if projectedafter the event, it suggests the vision of 'a placewhich harmonizes with the thoughts of the poet'. Bybeing directly in harmony with the movements ofthe actors, with the suggestions of the play, andpossibly with the music, it becomes integrated withthe life of the drama and participates in itsrevelation. The interplay of line, colour, objects, andlighting effects produces in the public a visualemotion which is in harmony with its auditoryemotion and which strengthens it.11

A great deal of Craig and Appia's practical andtheoretical work - their experiments, designs,and scenic manifestos — were aimed at in-vestigating and realizing the implications ofthese ideas, which each man broadly shared. Itis hardly surprising then, that the results areoften strikingly similar.

At the same time, it is important to bear inmind that their work was substantial, varied,far-reaching, and widely influential: to attemptto survey it superficially here, by way of pick-ing out particular similarities and differencesbetween their separate contributions and

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achievements, would be unfair to the complexityand variety of their work, and therefore,misleading. Only a few general and suggestivecomparisons can be drawn here — essentiallythose which Appia and Craig themselvesrecognized and considered important.

Similarities - and Differences

Starting from similar premises, both menproceeded along roughly similar lines. As Craighimself noted shortly after their meeting, 'hisreasons are the same as mine - and his and myresults are as two children of one mother andfather - only... he goes one or two the better '.n

The distinctions which emerge even from aclose consideration of each man's work areoften grounded in differences of personality,emphasis, and approach rather than substance.

Craig 'was firstly - and wished to beconsidered as such — a man of the theatre in thecomplete sense of the term: actor and thenproducer, designer, and engraver, scenographer,theoretician, philosopher, and historian of hisart'!13 Appia, on the other hand, as Craighimself initially described him, was 'not quite in[the theatre], he flutters around it — rightly hefears the unrest which entering the theatrewould bring him'.14

Craig subsequently made the same ob-servation to Appia himself, and, years later,reiterated it, writing of him: 'the theatre is apeculiar monster; I know it, lived with it, wasborn by it - 1 had its horrible blood in my veins,Appia hadn't'.15

Craig failed, however, at least at first, to seethat his ideas and those of Appia were closelyrelated in one area of vital practical importance- one in which, despite his assertion, he surelyhad little to teach Appia: 'I tried to show him,without saying so, that he was searching forwhat I was searching for - for what I believe Ihave found - the true and sole Material for theArt of the Theatre, Light - and through LightMovement.'18

Clearly he did not at the time appreciate theoverwhelming importance which Appia gave toboth elements; he had, after all, not read Appia'sown masterful treatment of the subject in hiswritten works, nor witnessed the Hellerauproductions.

But another, more legitimate difference be-tween Appia and Craig did become evident attheir meeting:

Craig wrote his name on the table-cloth and next toit that of Appia. He drew a circle around Appia onwhich he wrote the word 'music'. Admirablesymbol of truth! The two pioneers of contemporarydramatic art rested their reform on the same base —the actor. But Craig was free in his reform; thereform of Appia was dominated and directed by amajor force, music.17

Not until relatively late in his career did Appiaattempt to apply his reforms, arising as they didfrom an analysis of music drama, to thepresentation of purely spoken works. In themeantime many of the practical results of hismusic-based theory — the creative use of light,the introduction of three-dimensional sets, ofvarieties of levels, stairs, and platforms - hadbeen widely adopted by others for theatricalproduction generally.

A great many of Craig's reforms, proceedingout of a different analysis, certainly not onegrounded in music, were^. broadly similar,sometimes almost identical, and were similarlyadopted, with or without Craig's participationor approval. Under such circumstances, directlines of influence or evolution become im-possible to trace.

Appia's conception of theatrical art requiredthat the expressive elements be co-ordinated bya 'designer-director', according to a hierarchydominated and controlled by music, in order torealize the original intentions of the work'sauthor, as contained in the fabric of the workitself. Craig wished to harmonize and synthesizethese same elements by subjecting them to thecontrol and vision of a supremely gifted andall-powerful 'stage-manager', who enjoyeda greater degree of creative autonomyvis-a-vis the original author, or, ideally,would be the author himself.

Both men placed extraordinary emphasis onthe organization of the scenic elements, al-though Appia insisted that this arrangementmust both emanate from the music, and be inthe service of the moving human body. Craiggranted no such role to music, and did 'notregard the human body as the prime element in

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the theatre [believing] that movement extendsas much to things as to human beings'.18

Appia always designed with the actor's bodyas his focal point; Craig, although not alwaysconsistent, was generally more concerned withthe overall visual impact of a careful co-ordination and balance between light, move-ment, objects, and spatial relationships thanwith the pre-eminence and presence of theliving actor. Craig recorded in his daybook aftermeeting Appia: 'I told him that for me thehuman body in movement seemed to signify lessand less', and went on to suggest that Appia'svision was clouded by 'the veils of music andihe human form'}9

Contrasting Personalities

Both Craig and Appia were men of unique andindependent genius, but their independencecaused them to express their genius in quitedifferent ways. Appia was a contemplative, shy,and reclusive person, who had an intenseantipathy to publicity and found most directsocial contact and relationships difficult to bear.He greatly preferred to work in the backgroundand 'behind the scenes'. Craig was an extremeextrovert: a man of large and frequentlycombative ego, who delighted both in self-advertisement and in aggressive advocacy ofhis ideas.

These differences in personality were directlyreflected in their work: 'Appia's writings are theresult of methodical reflection, they are logicalrather than intuitive; he demonstrates. Craigdescribes a vision and aims at convincing thereader then and there, even at the risk ofannoying him.'20

Craig, not surprisingly, felt that Appia wastoo unassertive, and that his work was toomuch in the thrall of others. After their meetinghe recorded his impression that although Appiawas 'a fine man - seeing very clearly - manythings', nevertheless, he suffered from 'oneweakness (his strength perhaps) that first he"needed" Wagner to hang upon - now he"needs" Dalcroze'.21

At the time they met, Appia was fresh fromhis triumphant collaboration with Jaques-Dalcroze, which had culminated the previoussummer in a production of Gluck's Orpheus and

Euridice at the second Hellerau Festival, an eventof outstanding significance for the developmentof modem theatrical art. But Craig felt Appiashould free himself from the influence both ofWagner and of Dalcroze: 'I had to say thatWagner hated the theatre and used it as aProstitute is used. This made him divinelyangry. Then we made up.' Appia had viewedsome marionettes at the exhibition, and Craig(in whose theory they enjoyed a prominentposition) expressed the hope that 'they willlead him somewhere - away from Dalcroze andWagner'.22

Appia gave Craig a photograph of his designfor 'The Elysian Fields' from the Hellerauproduction, which Craig refers to at thebeginning of a letter written to Appia in May1914, three months after their meeting: 'I haveyour picture in front of my desk always.' Theletter contains at this point a small sketch of thedesign inserted in Craig's hand. He continues:

And the more I see it the more beautiful it seems tome. (A banal-true thing to say.) It excites me farmore than any other artwork which belongs to ourage. There is no escape from it, and one wishes notto escape because it gives NO OFFENSE. But howinviting it is — how gracious — how silent — howperfectly temperate — how GOOD. My dear Appiaexcuse that I speak — but the picture is so alive thatI must speak.25

Craig then goes on to mention a plannedexhibition of theatre designs scheduled to takeplace shortly at Cologne: 'If you will exhibitthere — so will I. If you will not — I will not. Ihave no care any longer to exhibit any where ifyour works are not there too.' Later he raisesthe subject again: 'I am not eager to exhibit atall but I rather believe it might be right and one'sDuty to exhibit - both yours and mine. Whatdo you say?'

The same admiration and humility (whichwere hardly characteristic of Craig) are evidentelsewhere in the letter, when he refers to a copyof Appia's major work (published in German),Music and the Art of the Theatre, which its authorhad evidently promised to send him: 'I havesent to London for a copy of my book and toldthem to send [it] to you. The drawings in it arevery bad — but there are one or two not quitestupid pages in the book. Please do not trouble

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to read it — but I send it so as to be more certainthat you will send me yours.'

Craig probably refers here to the first editionof his Art of the Theatre, which was published in1905 in German, a language Appia read -although he may possibly mean his . secondbook, just published in 1913, Towards a NewTheatre.

This letter was written by Craig in Zurich on4 May, and the following day he sent atelegram to Appia, in which he sought toreschedule their second meeting, which wassupposed to have taken place that day inLausanne. In it he again raises the question ofthe Cologne exhibit: 'Oh how I was lookingforward to seeing you....Say me [sic] bytelegram if you have heard from Koln and whatthey can do for us at their comic exhibition. Ordo they shut tragic doors on us.'

Appia replied on 8 May, emphasizing hisown reluctance to exhibit without Craig:

as for me, I decline to exhibit, but as you haveexpressed your solidarity, I will await yourdecision...please let me know at once what youdecide. Doubtless our work will be exhibited, but weought not do it again under similar conditions.These are not the 'tragic doors', but simply anordinary door which doesn't concern us, and withwhich we needn't bother.

Their meeting took place a few days later, andthey agreed to exhibit together at Cologne,after Craig apparently reassured the ever-anxious Appia that arrangements would gosmoothly. After Craig's return to Italy, Appiawrote on 19 May, thanking him and apologizingfor his own habitual social reticence, which itwas impossible for him to overcome:

Express to Madame Craig my regret for having

been boorish and silent, and thank her for her charm

and tact. Tell Cordon Craig...no, don't tell him

anything — it's useless Think of your friend.. .give

a big smile to your boy from me, and to his sister

too, and to all four of you, the very bestW I am

working.

The exhibit duly took place that summer. In themeantime, Appia was heavily involved in a vastfestival, the Fete de Juin, produced by Dalcrozeand Firmin Gemier at Geneva, in which he tookparticular responsibility for the settings. The

festival was centred on a theatrical pageant infour acts celebrating the Geneva Republic'sentry into the Swiss Confederation a centurybefore. A series of elaborate tableaux vivantswere presented in the context of a carefullycoordinated synthesis of the arts of music,dance, drama, and singing.

On 17 June Appia sent Craig a short note:'...Your last letter is in my file, and I look at itoften... I am very busy with the Geneva Festivalof Jaques-Dalcroze, the exact opposite of you -but not of me...! Meanwhile I know nothingwill come to separate you from me.'

The Outbreak of War

The outbreak of war in August meant thatAppia had to wait a long time before hisprecious designs were returned to Switzerlandfrom Germany. He mentioned them in severalshort notes to Craig, including one written on22 September 1914 at a time when he wasevidently depressed and contemplating anuncertain future:

Thank you! Do write, I can't any more-, but I thinkof you....Nothing from Cologne, despite steps. Iwait. As for the rest: why! Perhaps this is the End,and to begin again (when!) one must have newfoundations. But — as you wish — let us remaintogether in thought and feeling - Afterwards ...weshall see together.

Four days later, Appia wrote to Craig again toreport that 'all my designs were taken from-Cologne by a friend... and are kept with her.... Iprefer that she keep them rather than risksending them at the moment.' With that worryset aside for the moment, he then mentions hisdesire to take up new projects:

/ prefer the present [to the past]. I try to live there;

although at the moment it's difficult: new studies;can one do ill I don't know — I wake each morning

saying to myself: it must be - but the past is never

past...how to conquer if?

With the conclusion of his work at Hellerau andthe Geneva Festival, it is probably fair to inferthat Appia believed a particular chapter of hiscreative life had closed. He was not in fact towork on any major projects with Dalcrozeagain. Instead, his time was increasingly devoted

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to exploring and developing new, more radicalideas about the nature and limits of theatricalart. These were investigated in a series ofvisionary essays (mostly unpublished at thetime, and many still unpublished) and in a book,which he considered to form his 'artistic lasttestament', The Work of Living Art.

Appia first mentioned the book a few monthslater in a letter to Craig dated 22 January 1915:'I'm working on a book. — I'm often withJaques [Dalcroze]. - We live in the future.' Thiswas followed over the next several months byan exchange of short notes and postcardsbetween the two men.

During much of the period, Appia wasunwell, and regretted his inability to composelonger letters. Craig invited him to come toItaly, but Appia replied on 26 May 1915: 'HowI would like to come! But I am going to Lucernfor hydrotherapy treatment! I'll write to youfrom there. I think all the time of you, and amhappy that you think of me

The following day Appia wrote again,enclosing a photograph of himself, and asking,'Do you remember me? How about a picture ofyourself? I have one in your book, but I wantanother...'. Craig returned the favour in a letterdated 14 June 1915:

Thank you for the beautiful glimpses — Here is aglimpse of me.... Your handwriting shows me youare well and very strong again / write you longletters which I do not send because they areinadequate - except in length. I have the utmostdesire to speak with you — or write — of all things- but cannot.... Please say a kind word for me andfrom me to your friend Dalcroze. For dance anddancers I am prejudiced, utterly prejudiced —utterly. That cannot now be helped. Prejudicedagainst all but Isadora [Duncan] — I cannot help it- / cannot see or speak with her anymore - but Icannot change my old prejudice in her favour asdancer — It cannot be changed. You under-stand But, for all this, say a kind word fromme to your friend.

It seems likely that elsewhere in this letter Craigalludes for the first time to an issue which latercaused them both distress, and formed the basisfor a controversy that would continue for manyyears — even to the present day: 'I hear muchfrom America — and already notice an attempt

to make trouble between me and my friends.How much mischief!'

Four months later, in October 1915, Carl vanVechten was to publish his article 'AdolpheAppia and Gordon Craig', in the Americanjournal Forum, asserting that Craig had takenmost of his ideas from Appia. Craig apparentlyhad received advance notice of the impendingattack. The subject was to recur in their corres-pondence later in the year.

Friendship with Copeau

Meanwhile, the affinity between them wasindirectly strengthened both at the time and, asit happened, in the future as well, through themediation of the French director and theatremanager, Jacques Copeau.

In October 1913 Copeau had founded theTheatre du Vieux Colombier in Paris, dedicatedto the reform of theatrical art through highlystylized productions from which the traditionalscenic clutter had been banished, and employinga system of meticulously rehearsed ensembleplaying in place of the star system whichdominated the French commercial theatre.

During its first season, Copeau held lecturessetting out his ideas and hopes for a theatrewhere language and action could be co-ordinated with a relatively austere setting andexpressive lighting to provide visually andconceptually unified productions which, in turn,might bring a new vitality into a theatricalworld stifled by the vulgarity and com-mercialism of the 'boulevard' establishments.

After his theatre closed at the outbreak of theWar, Copeau continued to develop and refinethese ideas, and to search out other like-mindedartists whose work he could explore to thebenefit of his own. His quest took him to Italyin the spring of 1915 to consult with Craigin Florence. Although impressed by Craig'svisionary force, he was less than satisfied withsome of his practical notions, which he felt were' incomplete' and lacking in ' solid foundation \24

He next journeyed to Geneva to meetDalcroze. After the success of the Hellerauproductions and the Geneva Festival, Dalcrozewas a figure of some stature in theatrical circles,and Copeau was intrigued by his system ofeurhythmies, 'whose resources one could take

273



and use in the training of the actor'.25 At theend of October 1915, Dalcroze took him tomeet Appia, where he ' found some confirmationof his own ideas, and a great many new oneswhich revealed themselves in great profusion'.26

Copeau and Appia at once perceived fun-damental similarities between their respectiveideas. Both called for the pre-eminence of theactor, for a three-dimensional performance-space freed from realistic decor, and forconceptually unified staging. Appia's carefullythought-out hierarchy of production and hisenthusiastic espousal of eurhythmies as the keyto stage movement were seen by Copeau to beof the greatest value and relevance to his ownwork.

Copeau returned for further discussion withAppia the following June, and entered af-terwards into an extensive correspondence.From then on he was proud to consider himselfa student and disciple of Appia, for whom hecame to feel profound respect and affection, andwhose ideas his own productions and writingsgreatly helped to disseminate.

Appia wrote to Craig on 5 November 1915,informing him of Copeau's visit: 'Forgive mysilence! I think of you a great deal, and I loveyou. Copeau has come here! He spoke to me ofyou with great understanding, and told me thatyou still loved me!...I remain the person youknew...'. A little later, on 24 November, Appiawrote again, and,* stimulated perhaps throughhis discussions with Copeau, spoke of theirsimilarities and differences:

Always with you! You know it - but I like to repeat

it to you. I'm going to spend ten days with Jaques-

Dalcroze, and at the Institute [in Geneva]...How

often I've thought of you there! Of what I wish we

might do there together, you who represent so well

that which I am not, alas; I who desire with all my

soul to be and to become that which you don't know

how to be. Thus we would not only be together —

but we would be one. How the echos of Copeau

interested and impressed me\ It appears that you

understand as well I... Don't cease writing to me,

for you provide thereby, little signs of your

presence.. . 7 need them. I think of you and love you

with all the links which bind us indissolubly

together, and which are so gentle, so strong - so

light at the same time.

These sentiments were rather touchingly re-iterated by a note written in English, whichAppia's sister, Helene appended: 'The sister ofAdolphe would like to know the true friend youare for him, and she hopes it will come once, shesends both her hands in your direction.'

The van Vechten Incident

Shortly thereafter, Appia learned of the articleby van Vechten. Craig informed him of it in aletter dated 23 November:

A surly spirit in America has just written an article- so surly - to say that (no, not to say - toinsinuate that) I could not have written my book(the poor thing that it is) unless I had read your twobooks and that all my ideas are STOLEN fromyou... my blushes I Poor you... poor me... for youcannot and have not read my book, I am sure; andalas I have not read yours. I often hold it and patit, but German I cannot read nor French nor evenItalian21

On 17 December, Appia responded on apostcard: 'Faithful one! Thank you! Whatshould one do regarding that imbecile? OughtI to write something for you to publish withyour articles?'

Craig's reply was contained in severalpostcards written in the first week of January,1916 and sent together: 'The American VanVechten - you have no need to write anything.I have thought about him for two minutes andhe has dissapeared [sic]. Besides all conspiraciesshould be encouraged — watered — warmed —fanned - and when ripe - plucked. Yes?'Elsewhere on the same cards, he wrote:

How do you do! Say you are very well - write me

that....I always see you in good health, and pray

that your heart may never ache - although even you

must sometimes love what is not worthy of your

love. — But I think you are very strong. I go out to

dinner tonight this new Year and will speak of

you Please — how is your sisterl — I love her

exceedingly — some day you and she must come and

stay with me, when I am richer and in better

spirit....I would like to write you a book - one that

no one else would care to read. Beginning 'In the

beginning love created the Heavens and the Earth

and the Spirit of Appia moved upon the face of the

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sands' and so forth. [Here Craig inserted a smallsketch of Appia's design for the Elysian Fields.]AH! But seriously. I may attempt to write such abook...because I see that I want to. Appia. I havehad a rather dreadful year.. .unhappiness.. .forwhich I seem to search. Basta!

At the conclusion of this series of cards, Craigwrote in Italian, 'Anche il vino e piu expensivoora - una cosa seria' ('Also the wine is veryexpensive now - a serious matter').

On 8 February 1916, Appia wrote to vanVechten, responding to a letter from him, andenclosed a copy of it in a long letter sent toCraig on the same day. In it he informs theAmerican,

/ don't understand what you wish to say in placingon me the sole responsibility for the actual reformof the mise-en-scene. Without doubt I havecontributed to it, but others have as well as I. Andif my particular form pleases you, that is no reasonto give me all the honour, which I refuse. Do youunderstand me! I'm working at the moment to makethe public aware that spectacle ought never to beisolated by itself, but ought always to correspondwith an activeness on the part of the spectator.Howl That is the question; and the question withwhich I am dealing.

Craig, possibly with an eye to posterity, wroteon the copy which Appia sent him, 'A copy ofAdolphe Appia's letter to van Vechten who hastried to play off (in public) EGC and AA againsteach other. Written out by Appia and sent tome Feb. 8, 1916.'

In his accompanying letter to Craig, Appianotes of van Vechten,' I've written a seemly butdry letter which will put an end — at least on mybehalf - to these disagreeable intrigues...! Icannot bear that anyone should place them-selves between you and me, - we - we know- and we know what they know!' Elsewhere inthe letter, Appia discusses once more theirpersonal and artistic relationship:

You write of things that take me by the heart... andI don't know anything to say to you. But I knowthat you could not have my desiresl Our twonatures are different. You have infinite charm; me,I have (and only have), this: [Here Appia includesa small sketch of his Elysian Fields.] You, have athousand ways of expressing yourself, and to others.

Me, I am a wolf in his lair who gazes upon the lightwhich crosses his hole... luminous - very luminous!Therefore remain faithful to this white wolf.

If we could meet again - tranquilly withoutlyricism — with the happiness of knowing howdeeply we understand one another on the essentialmatter!? / have felt keenly that you've suffered agreat deal - but how could I help you other thanwith my thoughts! I will always associate myselfwith what concerns you, won't 11 — 'In thebeginning there was..." two sincere friends — twoartists who felt themselves understood! That's rare— and precious —

Assessing the Relationship

For several months the correspondence appearsto have lapsed. A note from Appia to Craigwritten on 12 June 1916 asks, 'Then...silence...? No more of your dear and beautifulwriting? I who think so often of you — and whowork to please you — perhaps Do not troubleyourself about what van Vechten said — you didnot know me, then - now you would do otherwise,is it not so?...Write and tell me some nicethings.'

Towards the end of the year, Appia wasunwell again, and, except for several brief notes,apparently unable to write. Craig sent shortletters, and copies of several of his articles. InJanuary 1917, Appia wrote, thanking him for

being such a faithful friend to me, and when I'veresponded so poorly to all your good and interestingmessages I'm not ungrateful; there are ways ofwriting letters and expressing oneself which Ilack // / were with you, you would give to melittle by little your treasures — and me, I would sharemy little thoughts — this would be a happyexchange - because we are so different.

Craig wrote on 22 February 1917 with apersonal assessment both of Appia and hisrelationship to him. He points out that Appia,like Craig himself, must refuse to do service inother men's causes, in order to allow his ownsovereign power to make itself heard and felt.It was a position which Craig had long heldregarding his own collaborative involvement: itdrastically curtailed his opportunities for prac-tical work in the theatre. He states:

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/ grieve that you are, what I may be allowed to call,wasting your time. Let me explain — or try toexplain. If Wagner or Aeschylus should ask you towork upon scenes for them — for their drama — Iwould still say it is wasting your time....Youspeak - goodW Then there must not be anothervoice trying to be heard at the same time. If you didNOT speak - if you did not sing -1 should not grievethat you should play accompaniments. Some dayperhaps you will walk and talk alone: I know Icannot hope that this will be very soon.

And yet in the same letter, whilst lamentingwhat he felt bound to consider Appia's as yetunrealized potential, he pays touching homageto his friend's genius:

/ am... sorry that we are not often together, becausein my eyes you are the only one in the wholewestern theatre whom I remember continually withthat strange joy which is desperate and tragicbecause of your peculiar powerlessness andpower. You, my dear, are the very noblest expressionin the modern theatre — to me you are -. and I saythat without any needless bowing of the knee. ...Tome there is more vivid life and drama in one of yourgreat studies for scenes than in anything else knownto me in our theatre of Europe. There are otherrather wonderful powers in a few men and women.But NONE SPEAKS as your designs do.

On a much lighter note, Craig includes in theletter some wry remarks on the RussianBallet:

Mr. Diagelev the Impressario (who considers himselfa fine art critic) Mr. Bakst and now M. Picasso!!The latest lamb to enter the theatrical SlaughterHouse, let me tell you. It seems that M. Diagelevbeing without M. Nijinsky M. Fokine MadKarsavina and Co. is reduced to one Apostle. Itseems that M. Bakst has been told to go to Paris to'secure' M. Picasso - on the old plea that the Godslove best the sacrifice of a virgin. And Mr. Picassois now in Rome with M. Bakst, together they will'create' a new style - Cubisme du theatre. In shortit is quite likely that the Public asking to know thetime will be shown the inside works of the watch -Personally I always prefer to look at the simple butexpressive face of the watch.28

Appia continued to be in poor health through-

out this period and did little work, apart

from occasional collaboration with Dalcroze athis Geneva institute. Except for an accidentwhich occurred in about April 1917, whenhe broke a rib and had a long period ofconvalescence, Appia's illnesses were probablymore emotional than physical. He was prone toperiods of deep depression and mental fatigue,a burden under which Craig also suffered.

On 10 April 1917, Craig wrote a lettertouching upon these things, before taking amore whimsical turn:

Appia. How are you nowl Better, I hope and stillbetter and so quite well and then to recommencewith double strength. Rome. Romans. Cosmopolites.All little people - in a great hurry - to go nowhere.Appia it is sometimes difficult to endure it. Today isa Festa. I burn the inscence [sic] of a good cigar toyou and to the few whose thought touches us.Because today all Rome is at the Ballet Russe andforgetful of you and of those whose thought touchesus. I will not go — out of respect for you and the few.Theresal (my servant) Bring me a small unopenedbottle of Frascati - 'To Appia - To Isadora - ToYvette —' and those they love. And there my lovebegins and ends. My love made up of respect andadmiration that they know what they are - Pipes -obedient - through which God plays his music....

Later in the letter, Craig announces his intentionof bringing out his periodical The Mask again,which he had ceased publishing in August 1915(it duly reappeared in April 1918). Craig asksAppia for a contribution to describe the subjectof the book upon which he has been working:

7s there something you will write about in French orEnglish ? A little essay small about Les Spectateursto say This is what I will write about in my newwork and for this reason. Monsieur — pardon methat I have the daring to suggest to one with sohandsome a beard what he should — could — ormight write - but his - or something like it - iswhat a friend thinks would be just right.

On 26 May Appia wrote thanking Craig for his'delightful letters', which he found comfortingduring his illness, in spite of which 'the vibrationlives still, always young, always ardent, alwaysfresh - and always for you, Craig'. He continues:

Everything you write interests me and charms me;

that which comes from you.. .from, as it were, a

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double world: ours and yours. Mine, completelypersonal is altogether elsewhere. And I'm veryhappy you have my Elysian Fields [here Appiainserts a small sketch of the design] to stay,intimately, above all snobbery, very close to you,Craig....In the depth of our souls, we have thesame vibration and the same desire; onlyexpressed differently, because of our differenttemperaments, and our quite different circumstances.What does it matter'. We are ever together. That isenough.

'Shall We Two Change?'

Following these remarkably candid and intimateexchanges, the correspondence apparentlylapsed for a year and a half, until November1918 at the conclusion of the war, when it wasresumed by Craig. During much of this period,Craig was engaged in the major task ofpreparing the next issues of The Mask, as wellas launching a new monthly journal, TheMarionette, in March 1918. He was also at workon his next book, The Theatre Advancing, whichappeared in 1919.

For Appia it seems to have been a relativelyfallow period, though he may well have workedfrom time to time on his book and relatedessays. Part of the time he spent in a Sanatoriumin Berne. In his letter re-establishing contact,Craig confided that he thought of Appia 'notcontinually - but always as alone yet assurrounded by a world or art and art theoriesand interests foreign to mine', and went on toexpress regret that

our letters have not been what only our letters couldhave been. We write of our houses - or of ourfidelity — neither of which we should doubt theexistence of... we are like the two celebrated scientiststhat Mr. of London invited one day tolunch, and who were kept waiting for their host'sreturn a whole half an hour. The host on arrivingthought to surprise them in the midst of a uniqueconversation about science so he crept quietly intothe room only to discover that they were bothstriving to throw half pennies on to a certain redspot in the carpet pattern. The point of the story israther too obvious...it lies in the fact that 25minutes is long enough for any two of the same jobto discover all the others' incompetence....

Later in the letter, Craig asserts again his beliefthat Appia, although alone, is ' in reality a littleenslaved to a number of good men and thingswho hold opinions your heart hates to goagainst - while - in my opinion - your soul isnowhere near'. In a lighter vein, he relates,

Last week I enjoyed a morning making my copy ofyour book more precious — I had already had itbound in the most excellent parchment and blankleaves added at beginning and end. And so ontothese leaves I pasted carefully and with manymutterings the postcards and photographs you havesent me of yourself and of your house Beneaththese photographs I have added one or tworeproductions of designs of yours which I havefound.

After telling Appia about his move a yearearlier from Rome to a villa near Rapallo, heconfides 'I am happy to say that I have notmade one drawing since I came here.... I regretto have to add that I have written a good dealof nonsense, but as I have read a great deal I ama little better informed that I was 12 monthsago...but blinder than ever.'

Informing Appia about the reappearance ofThe Mask in April, Craig remarks that' I did notsend you a copy because I thought it could notpossibly annoy you or please you sufficiently —but now I shall send you copies for I find yourname in it... I hope someone will read you someof the pages'. After mentioning the possibilityof travelling to Switzerland in the New Year(he is 'weary of eating expensive black bread'),he concludes:

Have you heard what is happening to the EuropeanTheatre lately! The last I heard of it was that [it]was dying of hunger and conceit. I, as you see, amonly dying of dullness. Please forgive. ECC. Howthey change. . . these people with beliefs...how wechange - / wonder shall we two change! - or diefor our Theatre!...the Cods guard you.

Appia sent a postcard acknowledging the letterand promising to send one of his own in aweek's time. At the end of November, Craigresponded:

How glad I am to hear from you... you have been

ill again - you will now get well. What is it you

want to do now! Have you a wish! Please tell

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me Tell me — If I know your wish clearly I cantell others. I think it so great a pity that so great amaster as you should be hidden in the hills - for thedear and silly people need you and your art — and/ almost think that the theatre needs you. Can younot come into it! It can only kill you, my dear.

As promised, Appia wrote on 30 November, along and intimate letter. His health is better, thewar is over, and he is making new plans for thefuture. He even confides that (uncharacter-istically), he feels the need for company, and hasmoved for the winter from his isolated Chateauby Lake Geneva to a pension: 'At 5 7 years, — myage - one needs a little comfort and also a littlecompanionship: Adolphe Appia is not enough- It's sad and inevitable!' He then takes up thesubject raised by Craig in his last letter.

You're perfectly right: I vacillate, and have vacillatedall my life between atavisms and influences whichhave not been of a type to elevate or free me; andfrom desires, the personal needs of an artist andcreator, which pull me, and which should pull meonward and upward. But this continual struggle istiring, and holds me back somewhat. It is also a sortof inner guarantee, almost a sort of force, because itabsolutely prevents me from saying or producinganything except that which I consider to be the

purest and the best That is also why my private

creations and non-published work are more thanwhat I can offer or show to others.

The Theatre of the Future

These remarks are significant, for they state inAppia's own words an important aspect of hispersonality and his work, frequently commentedupon by others. He worked best in isolation,free from pragmatic pressures and distractions,thereby attaining in his theory and analysis anobjective purity and coherence rarely achievedby those caught up in the immediacy andcollaboration of practical work in the theatre.

This single-minded approach ensured thatthe comprehensive reforms which he envisaged(and in particular his concept of the hierarchy ofproduction), were never piecemeal, but formedan altogether logical and integrated whole. Hewas, after all (especially in his early theory),attempting to map out an altogether unfamiliaraesthetic landscape, in marked contrast to

Craig's famous injunction, 'after the practice thetheory'.

When, in retrospect, one reviews and re-sponds to the overall pattern of his work - thusin a sense retracing backwards to its core theprocess from which Appia himself first for-mulated his theory — one is startled finally bythe intensity, the genius, and the beauty of theoriginal vision thus intimated and reconstructed.One is also struck palpably by the realizationthat to review and summarize the conceptsgenerated from within that vision is to compilea concise compendium of what have becomethe defining principles of modern theatre.

Appia goes on in this letter to review severalprojects on which he is currently working. Oneof these is a preface to a projected Englishtranslation (never realized at the time) of Musikund die Inscenierung (Music and the Art of theTheatre), 'explaining why a work written 25years ago has still sufficient importance to meritbeing translated and republished, and to tracethe path that has been covered since, and thepoint at which I find myself now! '29

Later, Appia describes for Craig the work onhis slowly evolving book:

I've decided to do a series of essays linked one to theother by the same theme. The complete work willprobably be called The Living Art; that's to say,the Moving art [human body, light, etc..) asopposed to immobile art (all the rest I)... It's very

pleasing to write / / this is successful I will thenpublish several of my numerous articles and prefaces,similarly gathered into a volume. For this I will dosome new drawings, always with a vision of TheHall, a kind of cathedral of the future, whichreunites in a vast, free, and changeable space, allthe expressions of our social life, and in particular,dramatic art, with or without spectators.... Fromthere we shall arrive, I have a strong and profoundconviction, at majestic festivals where an entirepeople will give their cooperation, and where no onewill be allowed to remain passive, and we willexpress all our joy, our passions, and our pains.

Appia's announcement of his theme is anaccurate description of the subject subsequentlydeveloped in The Work of Living Art, and hisevocation of The Hall closely paraphrases anarticle (probably written at this time), 'Actor,Space, Light, and Painting', which was not

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published until 1954, a quarter century after hisdeath.

Like Craig, he foresaw and anticipatedfundamental changes in the nature of theatricalart itself. It was this prophetic idealism and thework informing it as much as their moreimmediate practical reforms and theory whichclearly affirms an essential affinity betweenthem. Both conceived a theatre in which thetraditional architecture, the activity, and therelationship between audience and performancewould all be radically transformed. New worksof scenic art would take place in buildingscapable of providing the venue for a greatvariety of as yet unimagined aesthetic events.

Four years later, in 1922, Craig himselfpredicted, 'the theatre must be a hollow spacewith roof and floors only: within this spacemust be erected for each new type of play anew temporary stage and auditorium'.30 Theidea was an essential part of his conception ofthe theatre of the future.

Elsewhere in this letter, Appia refers to hiscurrent work on a scenario, 'Hero and Leander':

Two scenes only. The Sea as Friend; The Sea asEnemy, or The Friendly Waves, The Hostile Waves.Virtually without a text; the music very grand andsimple (not symphonic), almost nothing except the

body A single decorative design; the 'public'

mingling in everything / tell this to you alone.Do not speak of my practical work; it's betterthus.

On a purely personal note, he informs Craig:

since you saw me (February-March 1914) my hairhas turned completely white, which I like....Myheart is still 18 years old. My health is once againperfect, and life seems to me the most wonderfulthing we possess...even though she flows in thismost dangerous of worlds. Do please send me somephotos of yourself. You have the one which mostresembles me-, the vague masses of my ElysianFields....

Craig sent an affectionate and supportiveresponse to this letter, and Appia in turn, wroteagain at the end of January 1919, confessingthat although 'my spirit has the joy to live inmy Elysian Fields, the rest of me isn't so happy'.Renewing a theme from his last letter, hecontinues: 'my character and circumstances

don't allow me so active a life as my artisticcapabilities would seem to require. I only workwell alone; that is a fate to which I've becomeaccustomed.'

The Work of Living Art'

Appia turns again to the subject of his book,and outlines the topics with which he intends todeal: 'Living Space', 'Living Time', 'LivingColour', 'Collaboration'. These subjects ulti-mately formed the core of the completed book,which, Appia predicts, 'will be unusual andcertainly will teach a great many new things tothe reader'. He then outlines what will form' the three principal themes, of special interest':

First, the technical aspect where I destroy the mythof the union of all the arts ...to do this, I analyzeeach one of our arts from the point of view ofdemonstrating the sacrifices that they make, and theattitude the artist ought to take to attain for themtheir place in the Living Art.

This was a subject close to Craig's heart; since,'neither [Appia nor Craig] believed in theGesamtkunstwerk, Wagner's idea of a supremeartistic theatre created by the union or fusion ofseveral arts. Both declared that there must beharmony between the various means of stageexpression - actors, scene, lighting, etc....'31

However, their approaches to achieving thisharmony were different. Appia conceived of ahierarchy of production elements, mutuallysubordinated one to the other, and co-ordinatedand dominated by music. Craig believed thatof these elements, 'action...words...line andcolour... rhythm... one is no more importantthan the other',32 and used them all as materialcontributing to the unity of performance.

In his letter, Appia defines the second themeas 'the differentiation between the Sign and theExpression', and the third as the 'necessity of atype of collaboration for the life of the work ofliving art, which isn't just the product of aworkshop and its personnel' - ideas which wereto be developed at length in his book.

Finally, Appia reveals that he intends tomake an important distinction between worksof dramatic art and the theatre itself. He hopesto 'speak of the legitimate existence of theWork of Living Art separate from the dramatic

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idea, and as something sufficient unto itself...! —even without witnesses, without spectators...!'Thus, he predicts, such art will become a 'livingart' or, in effect, a new type of 'applied art'. 'I'msure I'm right!'

Appia had long nurtured very radical notionsabout the changing nature of theatrical art andthe need to transform audience expectationsand reactions as well as to purify the role of theactor. But, in the process of consolidating theseideas in his book, he realized that his earlierwork, which had begun as an analysis andcritique of the state of theatrical art, must end ina fundamental attack on contemporary cultureitself, and, crucially, on the role which art wasforced to play within it.

People observed art passively: if it movedthem at all, it did so artificially, having lost mostof its pristine power to disturb, excite, orinvigorate an audience who now might con-template and collect it, but could no longeractively enter into it.

It was necessary to return to the well-springof all art, 'the living experience of our ownbody',33 and from there to express andexperience both the reality of oneself and,simultaneously, one's communal relationshipwith the rest of society. Instead of being anisolated spectator, one could become wholeagain, reintegrated ' into living contact with ourfellow men'.34

In confronting this crisis of art in society, andsuggesting a solution, Appia once again placesthe actor at the very centre of his concept oftheatre. But the actor in Appia's more advancedtheory is not, as earlier, in the service of thework: he becomes the work itself.

The earlier theory had emphasized the actor'sfunction as the vital link through which themusical score and the dramatic text were realizedin space, and through whose movement the

^scenic elements were in effect 'generated'.Now, even more radically, Appia conceives artforms in which the moving body simultaneouslycreates the work and, doing so, is the work.

This redefinition was predicated upon Appia'sanalysis of the basis of theatrical art, which hehad come to believe lay not in the enactment offictive stories, but in the immediate physicalactivity of living, moving bodies, motivated bylight and music.

Previously he had been concerned to free andexternalize the expressive elements of theatre asthey were contained in a musical drama, andconveyed through the medium of a dramaticplot. In enacting such stories, however, theactor is constrained to take on imitative andrepresentational qualities, which are not them-selves purely 'expressive' elements but con-stitute instead what Appia termed 'indications'or 'signs'.

If the dramatist and, in turn, the actor, wereto renounce these fictive encumbrances al-together — to use the expressive elements oftheir craft in their purest and most direct form— would it not be possible for them to create atheatrical art analogous to abstract painting,sculpture, or indeed to music?

It was necessary to experiment in creatingless 'literary' art forms in the recognition thattheatrical art need not have a plot or story tosustain it any more than a symphony requires atitle or notional programme to make it ex-pressive and sensible. An art form based uponthe body moving to music in space wasultimately capable, Appia believed, of ex-traordinary expressiveness - communicatingdirectly to all present — since all alike havebodies.

Some of these ideas were paralleled in Craig'sthought as well, as he conceived a 'Theatre ofthe Future', although his emphasis was muchmore upon new scenic forms, technical inno-vations, and the expressiveness to be achievedthrough them, than on the living performer.But, like Appia, he wished to establish a morevital and productive contact with the audience:'The stage space was envisaged as a mindscape,a neutral ground on which the imaginations ofthe artist and the spectator might meet.'35

Plans for an Exhibition

After Appia's letter, written on 31 January1919, there was a long lapse - almost threeyears — before the correspondence was taken upagain. During that period, Appia apparentlysent two letters to Craig, which were neverreceived. On 22 November 1921, Craig wroteto raise the subject of a forthcoming exhibitionin Amsterdam at which the work of both artistswas to appear.

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There is no evident reason for the break incommunication, although certainly it was aperiod of intense activity for Appia, duringwhich he wrote a large number of essays, andprobably worked upon a great many newdesigns as well. He also renewed his col-laboration with Dalcroze at the Geneva institute,where he helped produce a new version of thepantomime Echo and Narcissus, which hadoriginally been presented at Hellerau before theWar. In May 1919 he had completed The Workof Living Art, and it was published in Genevalate in 1921.

Craig appears to have been less productive,and, indeed, in his next letter, on 19 December1921, he confesses, 'to speak true I am what theEnglish call "on strike" — I refuse to work — thisrefusal troubles me a little for I dislike it'. In1919 he had ceased to publish both The Maskand The Marionette.

Appia refers at the beginning of his letter tothe 'pleasure of seeing your writing again',which he 'knows very well is a rare andprecious specimen', and then turns to thesubject of the Amsterdam Exhibition:

We shall indeed be together again in Amsterdam, aswe were in Zurich, and I am very happy about it:our relationship is too obvious to separate us, andour differences are merely curious and instructive forthe public. I'm only sending 14 designs. They arebadly deteriorated from their numerous journeys;above all, I believe from that wretched exhibition atCologne. You already know these drawings. There'sonly one new one-. Echo and Narcissus from theJaques-Dalcroze Institute. In the reading room I'llplace two copies of Music and the Art of theTheatre, which someone lent me for the purpose {it'scompletely sold out); and two copies of my newwork...The Work of Living Art. They've askedfor an article for the catalogue with 3 or 4designs.

The article, subsequently published separately,became one of Appia's best known essays, 'Artvivant? ou nature morte?' After expressing hiscertainty that Craig's display will be 'mag-nificent', and asking if he intends to bringilluminated models as he did at Zurich, he adds,' I shall count on your understanding to explainme to the public!' And he concludes:

You told me that you remain as ever towards me;I know it wellI But it greatly pleases me to hear itfrom you. Our differences are essential, just like ourlives, which are distant and dissimilar...butnevertheless, a categorical imperative brings ustogether almost to touchingI... We could not haveworked other than we did; in that we are brothersin suffering and in joy I Au revoir! / have turnedcompletely white, like the nice tablecloth in yourdining room; what about you!

In his response of 19 December, Craig beginsby regretting having failed to get two ofAppia's letters, but is relieved that Appia hadreceived some articles which he sent him. 'Notthat it was anything for you — it was for thewretches - Why do I concern myself with them— perhaps the best answer is because you donot!' He continues:

I believe that I go to Amsterdam in January - butI am not quite decided - The coldW The trains IIIThe landscapes going by the window — all very sadand repelling — but then the doctors afterwards !!!The words of comfort!! The recovery! - all that isso enchanting. No — I do not go like a hero braveand doing my duty — if I go I go without knowingwhy.

You sent 14 designs. I shall speak of them andyou if they want me to speak at all — I shudder I Iam the one man in Europe who will never knowyour 14 designs, although you say 'Vous connaissezdeja ces dessins'. They are all designs which for meto know would mean another long life — and it isbecause of this that I am, anyhow, able to know alittle of their worth.

Craig chides Appia for having sent two copiesof his book to Amsterdam but none at all tohim, and then adds, 'It must be translated - Idread to read it with my amount of French andGerman — I am sure it will be wonderful — andquite opposed to all I write - Excellent - HowI shall laugh and delight in all you say and howit will puzzle the fools that I am so happy.'

He expresses the hope that Amsterdam willbe a better exhibition that Zurich, and that hewould like ' to see some new real things... newTheatre designs.... The old ones even those of1600 and 1700 seem to be so wonderful - alivewith their age not dead to it.' After promisingto write again from Amsterdam, if he goes,

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Craig adds, 'so you are tout blanc — mostbecoming and noble — I am grey — but quitecapable of purchasing a powerful dye - black, Ithink, shall be the choice - after Amsterdam'.

Craig in Amsterdam

Appia's response to this letter from Craigapparently failed to reach him. The next extantletter was written on 7 January 1922, and sentto Craig at his hotel in Amsterdam. Afterexpressing the hope that Craig will welcome avisit there from Appia's acquaintance, a Mr.Gustave Fueter, who had founded a school ofmovement and dance in Bern, he asks Craig tosay something on his behalf at the opening ofthe exhibition, and to convey his regret at notbeing able to attend. He adds,

My new book meets with sympathy — and thisencourages me to continue, but it always seems tome that one has done nothing, and, above all, thatone hasn't known how to do well, what one hasdone. The awareness of all the possibilities issomewhat distressing, but also rather delicious. Youunderstand that tool

Craig replied from Amsterdam on 30 January,announcing that 'Last night I gave a lecturehere - I do not remember all I said words aresuch foolish things - but I spoke much ofyou'.

/ spoke of you sitting at the Wagner Theatre at

rehearsals - (Did you! - I said you did) and I said

that there at those Solemn and beautiful hours

during the day - when the light mixes with the

ropes and with the side scenes and back scenes —

during those day rehearsals when beautiful visions

come and go on those half empty stages it was there

you were born.

It is interesting to note in passing how Craig'srather fanciful notion of the origin of Appia'sinspiration had, ten years later, developed intoa broader and more confident assertion. In1931, he wrote:

The most important fact about Appia's development

- the growth of that idea of his - is the fact that he

was at Bayreuth and in the theatre there....Appia

sitting watching the rehearsals, puzzling things out,

watching performances, surprised at the failure to

achieve a visible beauty anything equal to, or in anyrelation to the music being played, that is theinteresting point.

In an artist such an experience engenders surprise- and puzzlement turns to anger as he observes howwantonly every chance is lost. He then goes awayand begins to work — to discover whether it mightnot be possible to create some wonder for the eyewhich shall tally with the wonder in the sounds hehas heard.

He begins — he then realizes that as the stageitself controls the success or failure of his designs, hehad best work to scale, and to the other limitationsof the stage. This Appia did... and soon produced forsome of Wagner's operas scenes which were perfectof their kind. The kind was simple, and this heachieved by eliminating all the lines, colours, and the'bits' in the old designs which he saw as useless.36

Craig concludes his letter, 'I said so because Iwas speaking of Practise and Theory - and Iclaimed you as no Theorist but as an ordinarygood worker. Are you proud? Be so - I gaveyou the brightest medal'

The International Exhibition of TheatreDesign at Amsterdam was highly successful.Although the recent efforts of a great manydesigners were shown, the work of Craig andAppia continued to command great attention.Sheldon Cheney, whose book, The New Move-ment in the Theatre, had in 1914 been one of theearliest to deal comprehensively with currentdevelopments, observed after attending that,'of course there are those who would say thatCraig and Appia have become historical now,but after studying the other exhibits, I cameback to the Craig and Appia room with thefeeling that it will be time enough to put thesetwo on the history shelf when the rest of theworld has caught up with them'.37

Keeping Quiet in Public

Appia's next letter was sent on 20 February1922. In the meantime, Craig had suggested tohim that they both submit designs for anexhibition scheduled for later in the year inLondon. Appia hesitated to agree, asking formore time, while confessing that the ideainterested him.

Four days later, he wrote again, briefly,promising a fuller letter upon Craig's return to

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Italy. In the meantime, 'my Elysian Fields isthere to say everything that I could tell you'.He promises to respond on the question of theLondon exhibition and adds, 'Indeed, I am notheoretician — you know that very well'

Apparently Appia was somewhat anxious tohear from Craig about the proposed exhibition,since, on 26 February, he wrote yet again,gently chiding Craig for not having answeredhis letter. In any case, Appia had now decidedagainst exhibiting: 'The exhibition at Amster-dam (following that in Zurich), was enoughto make me widely known; my drawings havealready travelled about a lot, they're worn andtired from their itinerant life and need to rest!'And upon 'considered reflection', he feels thatexhibiting can no longer adequately representhis current work.

My vision and all my thought is indeed much-advanced. I don't see the theatre anymore, it doesn'tinspire me — and if one wishes to comprehend howI have developed, it can't be conveyed by thedrawings. One must wait, therefore, until I'vebrought new elements

Appia then mentions that he intends tocomplement The Work of Living Art with afurther volume developing its ideas in a morepractical context. 'Until then, I ought to work,work well, and...keep quiet, at least in public'In an essay written in August 1923, 'Man Is theMeasure of All Things', Appia refers to it as 'apreface to a New Work'. This may well be thesame book mentioned in the letter to Craig: inany case, no such work is extant. A number ofAppia's essays, many of them unpublished,were written at about this time, and it may bethat he intended to incorporate some of theminto the projected book.

Appia, while thanking Craig for his offer,asks him to understand the basis for his decisionto turn down the exhibition:

You see, dear Craig, although we have arrived, eachby his particular and personal path, at conclusionswhich similarly concern the theatre, we don't differany less perceptibly in those conclusions. Ourassociation allowed us to be clear and authoritativeon that point which we both reached, one and theother; but in reality, and vis a vis the public, itintroduced an error into my evolution, and

threatened to delay the appreciation of the great joywhich I am charged with placing before my fellowmen. In retaining me in the atmosphere of thetheatre — the theatre such as it is — it contradictseven my most profound convictions. Therefore let usremain linked in the thoughts which once we shared,and preserve for me - apart from the idea of thetheatre — your good friendship as I preserve mine foryou.

'Art Is an Attitude'

At the end of his life, as his later writingseloquently confirm, Appia had moved farbeyond the revolutionary reforms proposed inhis earlier theory into even more prophetic andadvanced beliefs about the nature of new,emerging art forms. These radical conceptspulled him decisively away from any kind oftraditional theatre, and in the process awayfrom the focus of Craig's ideas as well.

In an essay of 1920, 'Art Is an Attitude', hedescribed his vision:

The time will come when the professionals of thetheatre and the plays written for them will becompletely obsolete - a time, when a liberatedhumanity will sing of its joys and pains, itsthoughts, works, struggles, defeats, and triumphs. Itwill sing in moving, more or less dramatic symbols,agreed upon by all. And the only spectators will bethose whom age and infirmity will group around usin common and keen sympathy. Then we shall beartists, living artists — because that is what wedesire to be.38

In his essays Appia writes enthusiastically andat length about the social implications of thisnew collaborative art> the benefits it may bring,and the need to begin exploration of thevarious forms it might take. These speculativetreatments tend, inevitably, to be somewhatvague and exhortatory, as well as at timesecstatic, but they should not therefore be tooreadily dismissed as merely the final incon-sequential bursts of flame from a burnt-outvisionary.

At the close of his life Appia still retainedthat extraordinary ability so evident in hisyouth, to peer into the future of' theatrical' artand trace, however limited in practical detail, aproximate outline of things to come.

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Appia's letter crossed with one from Craig,responding to his earlier letter of 20 February.Craig's brief letter, dated 25 February, statesthat he too is undecided whether to take part inthe London exhibition, which, he notes, is to beheld at the Victoria and Albert Museum. Hedoes not know who will be organizing theaffair, and, moreover, is not certain 'that theyare not going to exhibit Cinema as well asTheatre', adding, 'If they do I shall not send for1 detest the cinema, and it is nothing to do withus I think'.

Upon learning of Appia's decision, Craigapparently wrote again, this time stronglyurging him to reconsider the London exhibition.Appia replied on 8 March 1922, pointing outthat although he is touched by Craig's request,nevertheless, ' in spite of the aesthetic and moralreasons of which you've spoken, I don't wish toexhibit again without myself being present'. Heassures Craig that ' this isn't a lack of confidencein you — but a completely personal feeling'.

Craig, it appears, was relentless in continuingto press Appia to participate, although hisletters are apparently lost. Appia wrote to himagain on 21 March. He begins by hoping thatCraig will not be angry with him for refusing toexhibit in London, since, 'without doubt, I haveonly to repeat the serious reasons which I'vealready given you'.

In the meantime, the organizers in Englandhad asked that the entire exhibition betransferred from Amsterdam. 'This is notaddressed to me personally; and therefore itisn't on my part a personal refusal that I'mmaking to your country.' He hopes, moreover,that no one will consider his wish as a personalaffront to Craig: on the contrary, 'I would valuethe opportunity to be once more at your sidebefore the public; it would have been pleasingagain to have our names linked in the publicimagination and in the Press.'

Appia entreats Craig to 'rest easy on thissubject; because our good friendship is dear tome, and I wouldn't wish for all the world thatmy absence was badly interpreted with regardto our relationship'. He reveals that a letter hascome from one of the Dutch intermediaries,putting considerable pressure upon him, andattempting ' to make me feel my responsibility.I believe he exaggerates a good deal, but I'm

touched, all the same!' But the most he willagree to do is to submit copies of his book, inwhich 'the curious visitor will be able to findmy designs'.

A week later, on 27 March, Appia wroteagain. He has received an envoy, who, whilereturning Appia's designs from Amsterdam,used the occasion to put the case for exhibitingin London:

He was very, very persuasive / hesitated — then,naturally enough, I gave in. If you had come, Iwould probably have given in even more quickly —Therefore we will be together once again, in London!He took back my drawings, and then departed forAmsterdam, no doubt very satisfied — What do yousay!

Appia concludes by requesting Craig to overseethe arrangement of his designs in London, andthen, asking when he will see Craig with hisown eyes once more, signs himself, 'faithfully,your old Protagoras'. This was probably meantas a reference to a phrase by the Greekphilosopher, which Appia was fond of quoting(using it later as the title of an essay written in1923): 'Man is the measure of all things.' Theidea was at the heart of the aesthetic theoryinforming the work of living art.

No 'Doing Good' to Theatre

Appia wrote again a month later, on 25 April,to announce that he would soon be undertakinga visit to Florence. Although he does notindicate any plan to see Craig, he confesses that,'in any case I shall be happy to find myself inyour atmosphere'. He enquires after Craig'shealth - whether he will be going to London,what news he hears of the exhibition, and if heis happy. 'Many questions — But I've grownaccustomed to your dear handwriting, and yet,I'm not seeing it any more!'

He announces that he himself is 'happy, withplenty of projects, and a great deal of energyfor work'. On a purely practical level, he asksCraig (who had, of course, formerly lived inFlorence), 'have you any advice to give me...?The addresses of inexpensive pensions?Of good, reasonable restaurants? Furnishedrooms? Friends and acquaintances?'

Craig in his reply apparently pointed out that

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Appia was unlikely to enjoy his stay in Florence,for when Appia next wrote, on 1 July 1922, hebegan his short note by saying, 'Your pre-dictions were right - and I have left Florence!'He next asks for news of the London exhibition,then in progress: 'Were you satisfied with it?Was our room good? Many visitors?' Craiganswered from London on 14 July:

We were immense'. But we seem to have frightenedour good friend and decorator Bakst [Leon Bakst,whose work Craig despised] who ran away - butnot before he had sent a very rude little billet douxto the Victoria and Albert Museum saying herefused to exhibit' under the same roof as E. G. C-that's we!!!

For the rest everyone was in his place and allLondon was delighted especially by you! Over20,000 visitors had been to see the works by lastWednesday. I believe that at least 20 of these felt

something and understood a little And theauthorities of the museum were perfect. The quiet ofthe place — vast as it is — is so delightful.

Craig commiserates with Appia over thedisappointment of his Italian journey, since hehad found Florence 'anything but bella!' 'Thestones are so gentle...but the people are suchmonkeys - the Foreign legion I mean - for theItalians are always noble and well baked.'

He next mentions that he is ' working on 2 or3 books - and one (a 4th) is now ready andappears in London and Oxford in about 2months time'. The book about to be publishedwas Scene, while those in preparation wereprobably Woodcuts and Some Words (whichappeared in 1924), and Books and Theatres andNothing, or the Bookplate, both of which werepublished in 1925. Craig concludes:

and then I suppose my dear Appia we shall die -having written something which - well, you are you— but I am a theatre man alive and really veryuseful in a real theatre - a real ordinary theatre. Mymother you know is [an] actress — now veryold...was a lovely actress — lovely in voice andgesture - no two were like her. And so I ache andam hungry for the old place —

Although Craig was never again to undertakepractical work in the theatre, he rejected to theend the criticism that his work was, if notindeed wholly impractical, essentially theor-

etical. As a recent biographer notes, 'his retreatfrom the stage was a refusal to compromisewith existing conditions that would havedestroyed the integrity of his ideas. So was hisdemand for autonomy and complete control ofanything he produced.'39 Almost forty yearsafter this note to Appia, in an unpublished letterwritten in 1960, Craig asserted:

[Appia] was a fine artist...attracted to the stagebecause he passed much time at Bayreuth — andhoped to be of service (no) to do it good. Now there'sno 'doing good' to the theatre unless you decide tobecome an ACTOR — you then acquire a certain RIGHTto master the beast if you can, or be killed byit Then you must decide whether you have asufficiently strong personality to go through that fireand live.

I went through 8 years of it in England but hadnot the courage to face another 8 years - and thisalthough I was born actor and the son of a greatactress. I still consider myself an actor and ampassionately fond of the Theatre and theTheatrical

If it is to be Theatre as Art THEN a big revolutionhas to be faced - and no amount of pretty or evenwonderful decors can help establish it as an Art. Soit has always distressed me to notice how men likeBakst (a born painter) can be brought to parade asif he was of the Theatre. History shows us too manycases of studio painters pretending to be Stagepainters

In spite of this I am OF the Theatre - it has beenof course an experience such as they say HELL offersto the wicked - but strange as it may sound to youI found and find its little flames just bits of redribbon blown into a picturesque fury by a bit ofartificial wind. I know my Theatre and, faults andall, / love it. Those who are of it are my family -those who know and come into it are justvisitors.40

Appia's Vision - in Practice

Appia's next note to Craig is on a postcarddated 30 December 1922. He states that he isdoing a great deal of writing upon what hebelieves to be interesting subjects. Craig hasapparently raised the possibility of an Americanexhibition, and Appia asks for details of this, aswell as enquiring after Craig's own work andprojects.

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On 2 February 1923, Appia wrote anotherpostcard, thanking Craig for his reply, butpointing out that he has decided againstexhibiting in America since the organizers wishto retain the originals of his designs for eighteenmonths. He has proposed instead that they usea collection of reproductions, and continues: 'Iam working: a book, designs, an exhibitionplanned next October in a major city; I will tellyou about it when it's certain, as well as aboutan actual production.' He concludes, 'Au revoir -one day - (here we are, ten years on fromZurich!)'.

This somewhat mysterious reference isalmost certainly to the production (still verytentative at this stage) of Tristan und Isolde,which was to take place the following winterin Milan. Appia had been invited by ArturoToscanini to stage a new production of theopera at La Scala, where Toscanini was artisticdirector.

La Scala was a bastion of conservativetradition within an Italian theatrical establish-ment almost wholly innocent of the reformistideas now clearly evident (if not yet pre-dominant), in much of the rest of Europe. Acampaign was mounted to prepare the audiencefor what inevitably would be perceived as aradical experiment. An exhibition of Appia'sdesigns (to which he alludes in his note toCraig) was given, several of his essays werepublished in Italian, and articles appeared in thelocal press.

Appia always insisted that any genuinetheatrical renewal must be rooted in a reform ofpopular taste or else wither, and he had fewillusions about the obstacles to be overcome inconverting the Milanese public. The groundwas further prepared in the course of two visitswhich Appia made to Milan, one in the summerof 1923, and another towards the end of thatyear, shortly before the production.

On 25 June 1923, Appia wrote to Craig oncemore, to tell him of these exciting develop-ments :

The Marchese de Rosales ...has opened up for me in

all their grandeur, the doors of La Scala and the

heart of the terrible Toscanini. It is no small thingl

I have returned from Milan where I was received

like a prince. They offered me everything to realise

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my idea, and at last, - at last - the great, thebeautiful dream begins...

Appia informs Craig that he will return to Milanin the autumn, and that Tristan will premiere inDecember, and continue to be presented in thenew year of 1924. 'My designs will be exhibitedin the foyer of La Scala from the beginning ofthe season in order to accustom the eye...! Thisis a good idea.' He concludes,

Because you are my friend — and because you don'tconsider me 'a good worker' — you'll be pleased withme. Me, I'm just very happy. I have withdrawn intothe mountains where in my quiet room I shallprepare everything, piece by piece, and despatchthem. Life is very good — and I embrace you.

Back in 1899 Appia had included a masterfulscenario for Tristan and Isolde as an appendix toMusic and the Art of the Theatre. That scenarioand the designs accompanying it now served,with only slight modifications, as the conceptualand scenic basis for the Milan production. Boththe lighting plot and the settings were virtuallyidentical with the earlier plans, a fact whichdemonstrates how extraordinarily prescientAppia's 'dream' had been, since at the time thelighting equipment necessary for its executiondid not exist.

The radical nature of Appia's vision wasfurther indicated by the fact that now, a quarterof a century later, his ideas still seemed tooadvanced for La Scala readily to assimilate.Appia found 'the agonies of Milan'41 enor-mously taxing. His habitual reticence andsensitivity were exacerbated by the Italian styleof production, which outraged his sense oforder, control, and careful co-ordination of allthe elements of production.

A perfectionist by nature - a tendency whichhis relative lack of practical experience re-inforced - he found the pragmatic and some-times haphazard compromise of actual prod-uction difficult to endure. It was impossible forhim to assert himself aggressively: he was toogentle and modest for that, in spite of Toscanini'skindly exhortations to 'speak up monsieurAppia!'42

The Tragi-Comedy of La Scala

The personnel at La Scala, in addition to being



lather disorganized, were also set in their ways,and reluctant to accept or adhere to the verydifferent principles and technique which Appia'snovel ideas entailed. Craig himself wrote laterof Appia's experience: 'He was badly helped.His helpers exclaimed "wonderful" and addedthe aside "unpractical" without attempting toaid him with whatever poor practicality theymight possess....A large theatre like La Scala...is somewhat like an old fashioned court —intrigue is despicable in such places, andparamount'.43

Appia recorded after his ordeal that 'up tothe last hour nothing was sure, nothingarranged', and confessed, 'not for a millionfrancs would I begin it all over again with thesedelightful gentlemen who have no firmness orconsistency, and with whom day after day, oneexperiences the most awful anxiety'.44

On 18 December 1923, two days before theopening night, Appia sent a veritable cry ofdespair to Craig, 'O Craig! It's here - at LaScala - a nursery, unfeeling and completelyincompetent. Will you say something at once tosave my name — Even more than ever, yoursfrom the heart.'

Craig recalled the letter many years later. 'Igot a despairing message from him, "all is lost"etc. etc. etc. So much for rashly entering anunknown forest of wild beasts without even agun....Appia must have been staggered when itdawned on him that La Scala was about to tiehim up and slip a sack over his head. - He yelledand fled.'45 But he replied to Appia immediately,on 20 December:

My dear Appia. I send you here an affectionateembrace from my heart — I know, / know well

So comic...so tragic...It is 7:30. In two hoursthe curtain will rise - and no one will care but youthat only l/l8th of your dream is there. Nevermind — allow me to send you a little packet of' indifference'. Swallow it and you will not even seeMilan Cathedral! / would come to see you at oncebut I am very poor - for which I thank no one butmyself...and my English Theatre....My dearAppia — let us laugh a moment at all things Myheart is troubled for you at this moment, but mylaughter is placed like a wreath on the tomb of LaScala: of Lopera: of Covent Garden and all theTheatrical tombs.

This was Craig's last letter to Appia. On 13January 1924, Appia replied, saying, 'You readthat it was a battle - and that I am a" profaner ".... Thank you for your letter - All iswell with me, and I want to see you again!'

The End of the Correspondence

Despite a mixed critical response, Appia himselfappears to have been gratified, ultimately, byresults which were close to what he intended,however far they may have exceeded thecapacity of the public to appreciate them. Onlya few in Milan perceived the extraordinarygenius and beauty of Appia's new approach toWagnerian staging, or the enviable experienceof having seen it realized for the first time.

Toscanini, who greatly esteemed Appia'swork, was discouraged and saddened by itsreception at La Scala, and never presented theproduction again. He had recognized andsummed up the value and effect of the Tristansettings, when he noted with a smile, 'cachante'.46

Upon this last letter, Craig wrote, 'Not ard'- not answered. Appia lived four more yearsuntil February 1928, and was active for much ofthe period. He even embarked on an ambitiousproduction of The Ring in Basel at the end of1924, although it was cancelled after violentprotests from indignant traditionalists.

In the absence of any evidence for a break ordisagreement between Craig and Appia, theirfailure to communicate further is difficult toexplain, and, in light of their complex per-sonalities, hazardous to speculate on.

In 1960, Craig was asked to provide anintroduction to the English translation ofAppia's Work of Living Art. He declined,saying,

/ wish I could do as you suggest but the fact is thatI have never read the Appia book of Essays for I amwithout a proper knowledge of any language exceptEnglish. His designs I know to some extent.... Wecorresponded — the years I forget for the moment —the last time was when the Scala Theatre of Milanhad tempted him to work for a Wagner Opera andthen ruined all he was trying to do and almost senthim Crazy.47

Shortly after Appia's death, Craig made aspecial pilgrimage to visit the sanatorium in

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Switzerland where Appia spent his final months.He talked with the doctor, a close friend ofAppia, who attended him during his last years.Craig explained to him how he had alwaysregarded Appia as his mentor, to whom he felta great debt, and came now to pay finalhomage.48

It was a fitting conclusion to a peculiarrelationship between two deeply attachedfriends who shared no language, met only twoor three times, and who have sometimes beenviewed only as rivals. Shortly after meetingAppia, Craig expressed the wish to a friend that'whenever the Theatre enters your thoughts -or men speak of it — remember to mentionAppia's name...and link us together'.49 Pos-terity has done so.

Notes and References

1. Kenneth Macgowan, The Theatre of Tomorrow (New York,1921), p. 77.

2. Ibid., p. 78.3. Carl Van Vechten, 'Adolphe Appia and Gordon Craig',

Forum. LVII (Oct. 1915), p. 487.4. Gordon Craig, On the Art of the Theatre, preface to the

second edition (London, 1912), p. vii.5. Gordon Craig, Daybook 11, entry for 27 Dec. 1911. The

copy of the Daybook is at the University of Texas, Austin,Humanities Research Center.

6. The letter from Rouche to Craig, a copy of which is in theAppia Collection, Beinecke Library, Yale, is dated 26 March1913.

7. Gordon Craig, unpublished letter to William Rothenstein,dated 25 Dec. 1914, in the Rothenstein Collection, HarvardLibrary, Theatre Collection.

8. Gordon Craig, unpublished letter to Barnard Hewitt, dated15 Feb. 1960, in the Appia Collection, Beinecke Library, Yale.

9. Gordon Craig, letter to William Rothenstein, 25 Dec.1914.

10. Ibid.11. Denis Bablet, 'Edward Gordon Craig and Scenography',

lecture printed in Theatre Research, XI, No. 1 (1971), p. 11. Thequotation which Bablet uses is from Craig's On the Art of theTheatre, p. 22.


13. Bablet, 'Edward Gordon Craig and Scenography', p. 8.14. Gordon Craig, Daybook 111, entry for 13 Feb. 1914.15. Gordon Craig, letter to Barnard Hewitt, 15 Feb. 1960.16. Gordon Craig, Daybook 111, entry for 13 Feb. 1914.17. Recorded by Jean Mercier, 'Adolphe Appia: the Re-birth

of Dramatic Art', Theatre Arts Monthly, XVI, No. 8 (1932),p. 628.

18. Denis Bablet, The Theatre of Edward Gordon Craig (London,1981), p. 180.

19. Gordon Craig, Daybook 111, entry for 13 Feb. 1914.20. Bablet, The Theatre of Edward Gordon Craig, p. 179.

21. Gordon Craig, Daybook 111, entry for 13 Feb. 1914.22. Ibid.23. Unless otherwise noted, this and subsequent excerpts from

the correspondence between Craig and Appia, most of whichhave not been published before, are from the Swiss TheatreCollection, Bern. They are quoted by permission.

24. Jacques Copeau, letter to Louis Jouvet, quoted in WaltherVolbach, Adolphe Appia, Prophet of the Modern Theatre (Middle-town, Conn., 1968), p. 102.

25. Clement Borgal, Metteurs en Scene (Paris, 1963), p. 26.26. Ibid., p. 26.27. Gordon Craig, letter to Adolphe Appia, 23 Nov. 1915, a

copy of which is in the Appia Collection, Beinecke Library,Yale.

28. Gordon Craig, letter to Adolphe Appia, 22 Feb. 1917, acopy of which is in the Appia Collection, Beinecke Library,Yale.

29. Unfortunately, the planned publication in English did nottake place at this time, and Appia's preface remains unpublished.Appia's great book. La Musique el la mise en scene, was originallypublished in German as Die Musik und die Inscenierung in 1899. Itwas not published in an English translation until 1962, as Musicand the Art of the Theatre (University of Miami Press, Coral Gables,Florida).

30. Gordon Craig, quoted in Bablet, 'Edward Gordon Craigand Scenography', p. 21.

31. Bablet, The Theatre of Edward Gordon Craig, p. 178.32. Edward Gordon Craig, On the Art of the Theatre, p. 138.33. Adolphe Appia, 'Theatrical Experiences and Personal

Investigations', unpublished essay of about 1924, trans. WaltherVolbach, p. 384 of the typescript in the Appia Collection,Beinecke Library, Yale.

34. Ibid., p. 387.35. Christopher Innes, Edward Gordon Craig (Cambridge,

1983), p. 3.36. Edward Gordon Craig, Fourteen Notes, ed. Glenn Hughes

(Seattle, 1931), p. 10.37. Sheldon Cheney, 'International Exhibition in Amsterdam',

Theatre Arts Monthly, VI, No. 2 (1922), p. 141. It was at thisexhibition that Sarah Bernhardt, gazing at Appia's designs, washeard to remark, 'la grande Connue devant le grand Inconnu'. Achapter in The Work of Living Art was entitled 'The GreatUnknown and the Experience of Beauty'.

38. Adolphe Appia, 'Art Is an Attitude', an essay of 1920,published as the introduction to Walter Fuerst and Samuel Hume,Twentieth Century Stage Decoration, Vol. I (London, 1928), p. xv.

39. Innes, Edward Gordon Craig, p. 3.40. Gordon Craig, letter to Barnard Hewitt, 15 Feb. 1960.41. Adolphe Appia, unpublished letter to Oscar Walterlin, 12

Jan. 1924, a copy of which is in the Appia Collection, BeineckeLibrary, Yale.

42. Ibid.43. Gordon Craig, Fourteen Notes, p. 11.44. Adolphe Appia, letter to Oscar Walterlin, 12 Jan. 1924.45. Gordon Craig, letter to Barnard Hewitt, 15 Feb. 1960.46. Quoted by Jean Mercier, 'Adolphe Appia: the Re-birth of

Dramatic Art', p. 620.

47. Gordon Craig, letter to Barnard Hewitt, 15 Feb. 1960.48. Appia's doctor and friend was Dr. Oscar Forel. Karl Reyle,

who knew both Appia and Craig, as well as r«orel, mentions thevisit in two letters to Walther Volbach, dated 19 Dec. 1961and 24 Mar. 1963, both in the Appia Collection, Beinecke Library,Yale.


Unless otherwise indicated, translations from the French are byMr. N. Monro-Davies.

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