Commedia Dell'Arte: An Actor's Handbook

John Rudlin

• Editorial: Routledge
• Año: 2002
• ISBN:
  9781134945870
• Edición: 1
• Categoría: Media & Performing Arts
• Categoría: Theatre

There has been an enormous revival of interest in Commedia dell'arte. And it remians a central part of many drama school courses. In Commedia dell'arte in the Twentieth Century John Rublin first examines the orgins of this vital theatrical form and charts its recent revival through the work of companies like Tag, Theatre de Complicite and the influential methods of Jacques Lecoq. The second part of the book provides a unique practical guide for would-be practitioners: demonstrating how to approach the roles of Zanni, Arlecchion, Brighella, Pantalone, Dottore, and the Lovers in terms of movement, mask-work and voice. As well as offering a range of lazzi or comic business, improvisation exercises, sample monologues, and dialogues. No other book so clearly outlines the specific culture of Commedia or provides such a practical guide to its techniques. This immensely timely and useful handbook will be an essential purchase for all actors, students, and teachers.

Part I
The commediadell’arte

Origins

In certain fiestas the very notion of order disappears. Chaos comes back and licence rules. Anything is permitted: the customary hierarchies vanish, along with all social, sex, caste and trade distinctions. Men disguise themselves as women, gentlemen as slaves, the poor as rich. The army, the law and the clergy are ridiculed. Obligatory sacrilege, ritual profanation is committed. Love becomes promiscuity. Sometimes the fiesta becomes a Black Mass. Regulations, habits and customs are violated. Respectable people put away the dignified expressions and conservative clothes that isolate them, dress up in gaudy colours, hide behind a mask, and escape from themselves.¹

OCTAVIO PAZ

The professional name

In order to clear the ground to begin discussion of the origins of commedia dell’arte, scholarly caveats as to what the phrase itself means and how to translate it need reiteration. For example:

The name commedia dell’arte is difficult to translate. Literally it approximates ‘comedy of the artists’, implying performances by professionals as distinguished from the courtly amateurs. This form has been given other names which are more revealing of its nature and characteristics. These include commedia alla maschera (masked comedy), commedia improvviso (improvised comedy), and commedia dell’arte all’improvviso.²

Moreover, in fact

the very term la commedia dell’arte was never used of the activities of actors or professional acting companies until the eighteenth century, when we find Carlo Goldoni employing it to distinguish the masked and improvised drama from the scripted comedy that as a dramatist he himself favoured…. Earlier terms used of the professional players and companies tend to be rather more specific: la commedia degli Zanni, la commedia a soggetto, la commedia all’italiana, or la commedia mercenaria.³

The actual phrase is not used by Andrea Perrucci in his Dell’arte rappresentativa, premeditata ed all’improvviso, written as late as 1699. To his all’improvviso one could add, from other period sources, commedia non scritta, sei maschere, and, outside Italy, simply Italian Comedy.

But once noted, these earlier alternative terms can be ignored: what is important is to distinguish a genus (which we now call commedia dell’arte), that was professional, masked and initially publicly improvised on temporary outdoor platforms in simple costumes, from the contemporaneous commedia erudita, which was acted by amateur dilettanti, scripted and performed without the mask and in elaborate costume on the private indoor stages of the courts. Arte can be translated into English not only as ‘art’, but also as ‘craft’ and ‘know-how’. Dario Fo underlines that it also indicates licence: the granting of professional and therefore protected status:

Commedia dell’arte means comedy performed by professionals, those who are recognised as artists. Only artists recognised by the authorities were classified as Commedia actors. The word arte in fact implied the incorporation of the dramatic arts; it brought together those who were authorised to perform for the counts, dukes, etc.⁴

For Fo, then, the nomenclature commedia dell’arte indicates a social rather than an artistic phenomenon, meaning above all the association of professionals. It was through such association that comedians pledged themselves to mutual protection and respect, commensurate to the closed shops of the medieval English guilds. In Italy too, individual ‘professional’ actors had probably been employed by other guilds to feature in their annual religious plays. By the mid-sixteenth century such individual performers were in search of a form which would enable them to band together. In understanding the significance of dell’arte, therefore, one needs perhaps to imagine companies creating a form of theatre called ‘Equity’ rather than that which we now call a trade union. The first known contract within such a company reads, in part, as follows:

The undersigned companions, namely Maprio known as Zanini from Padua, Vincentio from Venice, Francesco de la Lira, Hieronimo from San Luca, Zuandomengo known as Rizo, Zuane from Triviso, Tofan de Bastian and Francesco Moschini, desiring to form a fraternal company, which will last until the first day of next Lent in 1546, and will begin on the eighth day of next Easter, have decided and deliberated, in order that the company continue fraternally until the aforesaid day, without bitterness, rancour or dissolution, to make and observe between themselves…the following articles, under pain of forfeit of the undermentioned moneys.

Firstly, they have with common accord elected Maprio as their leader….

Item, that if by any chance one of the aforesaid companions should fall ill, that he be aided and assisted by means of the common purse….

Item, that if the company is required to tour, all members be obliged to do so and that all agreements made should be by the aforementioned Zanini.⁵

And the list goes on to include details of the keeping of the cash box and the communal ownership of the horse. As well as such internal safeguards, dell’arte members were also able to call on external protection from local authorities if rogue companies materialised on their patch and, for this reason, written permission to perform was often sought in advance by an itinerant troupe. Famous companies could also use their connections to oust the competition; for example, Isabella Andreini of the Gelosi wrote to the governor of Milan:

in so far as they intend to erect a stage in the public square in order to play comedy, or rather to ruin it, we accordingly beg that you write to Sig. Podestà telling him that you do not consent to their doing so.⁶

Fo concludes, in his Manuale minimo dell’attore, that history has not perhaps settled on the most accurate locution:

I find correct, in fact, the idea proposed by some scholars, of calling this genre, instead of commedia dell’arte, more specifically ‘comedy of the comedians’ or ‘of the actors’. The entire theatrical transaction rests on their shoulders: the actor as histrion and author, stage manager, storyteller, director.⁷

The amateur connection

There was interaction, other than patronage of the Players by the Gentlemen, between the commedia dell’arte and the commedia erudita. In plotting their scenarios in particular, the Commedia troupes seem to have adopted much from the latter form which, in turn, attempted little which did not derive from Plautus and Terence—for example Calandria by Cardinal Bibbiena, which, like Shakespeare’s later Comedy of Errors, is based on Plautus’ Menaechmi. Also, as the professional improvised comedy looked to extend its range, it imported a basis for the roles of the Lovers from the repertoire of the amateurs, who in turn had developed the limited possibilities afforded by the Roman comedies (where women of social standing were not allowed to be portrayed). The Miles Gloriosus (boastful soldier) was similarly appropriated.

There is, however, a historical problem in that the first recorded instance of something approaching a fully developed Commedia performance is in fact of one given by dilettanti. The composer Massimo Trojano wrote the following description in dialogue form of a court performance in which he was involved in Bavaria in 1568:

Fortunio:…in the evening was presented an Italian comedy, in the presence of all the ladies of high rank. Even though the most part of them could not understand what he was saying, Messer Orlando Lasso—the Venetian Magnifico, with his Zanni, played so well and so agreeably that all their jaws ached from laughing.

Marinio: Be good enough to relate the subject of the comedy to me.

Fortunio: The previous day, his Lordship, the Duke William of Bavaria, had the notion of attending a comedy the next evening. Having summoned Messer Orlando Lasso who he knew to be a man of general resourcefulness, he asked that one be instantly prepared. The latter, not wishing to refuse anything which would please his good master…relayed the whole request to Massimo Trojano and thought up an appealing subject. They made up the scenario together. In the first act, the prologue was read by a peasant from Cava, dressed so comically that he could have been taken for the messenger of laughter.

Marinio: Tell me, how many characters were there?

Fortunio: Ten, and the comedy was in three acts.

Marinio: It would be very interesting to know the names of all the actors.

Fortunio: The estimable Messer Orlando Lasso played the role of Magnifico Messer Pantalone de Bisognosi; Messer Gio Battista Scolari de Trento played the Zanni; Massimo Trojano played three roles: the prologue under the guise of a stupid peasant, that of the Lover Polydoro and that of the jealous Spaniard, under the name of don Diego di Mendoza. Polydoro’s valet was don Carlo Livizzano and the valet of the Spaniard, Giorgio Dori, from Trento. The courtesan Camilla, in love with Polydoro, was the marquis de Malaspina, her serving maid was Ercole Terzo, who also played a French valet. Coming back to the comedy, after the prologue was read, Messer Orlando had a pleasing madrigal sung by five people, whilst Massimo who had just played the peasant changed into the costume of red velvet with gold braiding above and below the waist, a hat of black velvet trimmed with magnificent sables, and appeared on stage accompanied by his valet. He thanked his happy stars and said he was proud to live in a kingdom where love, abundance and joy held sway; but then the Frenchman appeared, the valet of his brother Fabrizio, sent from the country with a letter containing very sad news. Polydoro read the letter out loud, sighing deeply, called Camilla, explained the reason for his departure, embraced her and, having thus made his farewells, departed. From the other side of the stage Messer Orlando then appeared dressed as a Magnifico, in a camisole of red satin, red Venetian stockings, a black cloak which came right down to the ground and his face covered with a mask that made people laugh at first sight. He held a lute in his hand and sang and played:

Whoever walks this street without a sigh He is a happy man.

After having sung twice, he put down his lute and began to lament over his love, saying ‘Oh, poor Pantalone, who cannot pass this street without making the air resound with sighs, without soaking the ground with tears!’ Everyone laughed till they could do no more, and all the time that Pantalone was on stage, all you could hear were bursts of laughter, and, above all, my dear Marino, when Pantalone had spoken both by himself and with Camilla, Zanni appeared, who had not seen his Pantalone for several years, and who, walking carelessly, bumped hard into him. They started to quarrel, then they recognised each other and Zanni, mad with joy, seized his master by the shoulders and began turning him round like a windmill as fast as he could, after which Pantalone did the same to him. Eventually they both found themselves flat on their backs. Getting up, they talked about one thing and another, after which Zanni asked after his old mistress, Pantalone’s wife, and learned in reply that she was already dead. They both began howling like wolves, and Zanni cried as he remembered the macaronis and the sauces that she prepared for him to eat. After a good cry, they cheered up again, and the master commanded his valet to carry some chickens to Camilla, his beloved. Zanni promised to speak in his favour, but did just the opposite. Pantalone left the stage and Zanni, very timidly, approached Camilla’s house. She became attached to Zanni (which is not surprising, since women often leave the good for the bad) and invited him to come into her house. Here a musical piece could be heard executed by five viola da gambas and as many voices. Imagine how funny that was! By God, in no comedy that I have seen has so much sincere laughter been heard!

Marinio: It...