Musical Myths and Facts, Volume 2 (of 2)

Even in the popular dances of nations in an advanced state of civilization love is generally the most attractive subject for exhibition by action and music. The Italian national dances, – the Saltarello, the Monferrino, and several others, – have an unmistakable meaning; or, as Mac Farlane says, "there is a story in them which at times is told in a very broad, significant, and unsophistical way. The story is a sort of primitive courtship, varied by the coyness or coquetry of the female dancer, and animated by the passion and impatience of the wooer."84 The same may be said of the Spanish Bolero and Fandango.

The excitement of the chase appears to be another cause of the origin of dramatic music. The savage, in pursuing the animals which he requires for his subsistence, experiences successes and disappointments which are to him highly interesting, and the recollection of which he enjoys. He naturally feels proud of results which he could not have achieved without agility and shrewdness, and he delights in showing to his friends how he proceeded in accomplishing his feat. Besides, savages have a strong instinct for imitation, almost like monkeys. Hence their fancy for counterfeiting the habits of certain animals which they chase and with the peculiarities of which they are generally well acquainted.

The aborigines of Australia have a dance in which they imitate the movements of the Kangaroo. The women sing, and produce a rhythmical accompaniment by beating two pieces of wood together; while the men, who represent the Kangaroos, produce sounds peculiar to these animals. The North American Indians have an Eagle Dance, a Bear Dance, and even a Dog Dance. The natives of Kamtschatka have a dance in which they cleverly imitate, not only the attitudes and tricks of the Bear, but also its voice. The peasants in Finland, in the beginning of the present century, still occasionally performed a similar dance, or rather action. The Aleutian Islanders, who have various pantomimic dances executed with masks frightfully ugly, have also a favourite representation in which a sportsman shoots a beautiful bird, and afterwards cries for grief at having killed it; when, suddenly, the beautiful bird revives, changed into a beautiful woman. The sportsman, of course, falls over head and ears in love with her, and thus all ends well.85 This story is enacted with recitations accompanied by some musical instruments.

Next to love and the chase, it is probably war which elicited the first attempts at dramatic music. To recall to the memory by a lively description with gesticulations, the valiant deeds, clever stratagems, and glorious achievements of the warriors after the battle, must have been always a fascinating entertainment to the victorious combatants. The Dyaks in Borneo, who preserve the heads of their slain enemies suspended near their hearths as ornamental trophies, perform a war-dance in which some of the combatants, gaily decorated, cleverly act a scene by seizing swords and handling them in various expressive ways. The Scalp-Dance of the North American Indians, performed in celebration of a victory, may be described as a kind of histrionic entertainment, which generally takes place at night by torchlight. The singular procedure of the Maori warriors in New Zealand in a certain dance, of projecting all of them their tongues simultaneously at fixed intervals, appears to be a pantomimic expression of defiance or contempt for the enemy.

The Corroborie Dance of the natives of Australia had perhaps also originally reference to warlike exploits, although this does not appear at once evident to European witnesses. Twenty or more men paint their naked dark bodies to represent skeletons, which they accomplish by drawing white lines across the body with pipe-clay, to correspond with the ribs, and broader ones on the arms, legs, and the head. Thus prepared they perform the Corroborie at night before a fire. The spectators, placed at some distance from them, see only the white skeletons, which vanish and re-appear whenever the dancers turn round. The wild and ghastly action of the skeletons is accompanied by vocal effusions and some rhythmical noise which a number of hidden bystanders produce by beating their shields in regular time.

Traces of dramatic music in its most primitive condition may also be discovered in representations of occurrences and scenes like the following:

Wilhelm Steller, in his 'Description of Kamtschatka' (published in the German language in the year 1774), says that the inhabitants of that country possess an astounding talent for imitating the manners and conduct of strangers whom they happen to see. During their long evenings one of their chief amusements consists in acting extempore comedies, in which the habits of any foreigners with whom they have become acquainted, are cleverly mimicked and ridiculed.

The missionary W. Ellis remarks of the Polynesian Islanders that "they had songs which, when recited on public occasions, were accompanied with gestures and actions corresponding to the events and scenes described, and which assumed in this respect a histrionic character. In some cases, and on public occasions, the action represented a kind of pantomime."86 Other travellers have given more detailed accounts of these performances. During Captain Cook's first voyage round the world, Banks and Solander, who accompanied him, witnessed in one of the Society Islands, in the year 1769, a comedy with music and dancing, performed by the natives, the subject of which was the adroitness of a thief, and his subsequent capture. At Cook's second circumnavigation, during the years 1772-75, he was treated by the Society Islanders with a somewhat similar comic opera called Teto (i. e. "The Thief"). G. Forster, who was with Cook, remarks that the dialogue, which of course he was unable to understand, seemed to be closely connected with their actions. One of them kneeled down, and another beat him and plucked him by the beard. Then two others were treated by the torturer in the same unceremonious manner; until one of them seized a stick and gave him a sound thrashing in return. This formed the conclusion of the first act, and the players withdrew. The commencement of the second act was announced by the musicians beating their drums. There were actresses as well as actors engaged in the performance.87 A more detailed account of the dramatic attempts of the Polynesian Islanders is given by W. Mariner, who, during his sojourn with the natives, had the best opportunity of becoming acquainted with their customs and amusements. His observations, which refer especially to the Tonga Islanders, show that the actors recite sentences which are answered by a chorus of singers. There is a great variety in their movements and groupings. Occasionally they sing slowly, and afterwards quickly for about a quarter of an hour. Sometimes they form a semi-circle, assume a bending position, and sing in a subdued tone of voice a soft air; which is soon again followed by a loud and vehement recitation.88

Grotesque dresses and adornments are, of course, an essential attribute in these entertainments. Neither are buffoons wanting. According to B. Seeman, the entertainment called Kalau Rere, which he witnessed in the Fiji Islands, "with its high poles, streamers, evergreens, masquerading, trumpet-shells, chants and other wild music, is the nearest approach to dramatic representation the Fijians seem to have made, and it is with them what private theatricals are with us. They are also on other occasions very fond of dressing themselves in fantastic, often very ridiculous costume; and in nearly every large assembly there are buffoons. Court fools, in many instances hunchbacks, are attached to the chief's establishment."89

Also the Negroes in Senegambia and Upper Guinea have buffoons, who delight the people with their antics and acting in processions and public festivities. Buffoons are popular even in Mohammedan countries, where dramatic performances are generally considered objectionable. Morier states that in Persia the princes, governors of provinces, etc., as well as the King, have a band of Looties, or buffoons, in their pay, who are looked upon as a necessary part of Persian state. They attend at merry-makings and public festivals, and some of them are endowed with great natural wit. This was, for instance, the case with a certain buffoon named Looti Bashee. "His dress, when he came to the ambassador, was composed of a felt hat, the crown of which was made like ours, but with two long ears projecting before, and two behind. Others of his troop were dressed in the same way; all looked grotesque, and I conjectured that nothing could give one a better idea of Satyrs and Bacchanalians, particularly as they were attended by a suite of monkeys headed by a large ape, which were educated to perform all sorts of tricks. They carried copper drums slung under the arm, which they beat with their fingers, making a noise like castanets; others played the tambourine; and when all this was put into motion, with their voices roaring in loud chorus, the scene was unique."90

Sir Robert Ker Porter witnessed at Bagdad, in the beginning of the present century, a kind of musical drama performed by men and boys, the latter being dressed like females. "This amusement," he remarks, "is the only one of a theatrical complexion known among the people. It is often called for by the female part of the inhabitants; but I am told that with the men it is now very rare, the Pasha so setting his face against it as to forbid the avowed existence of hirable dancing-boys in his capital."91 There is a Turkish theatre at Pera in which Turkish plays, adapted from the Italian, are acted by Turkish actors, and Turkish women appear unveiled upon the stage.92 The women in the hareem, who in their diversions are only permitted to employ slaves of their own sex, occasionally make them act melodramas, the subject of which is generally a love story.

The Indians in Mexico have some characteristic dances in which scenes are pantomimically enacted referring to Montezuma and to the conquest of Mexico by the Spaniards.

In most of the entertainments, of which examples have just been given, the music must necessarily partake of a dramatic character. Generally, the tunes are not selected at pleasure, but certain tunes belong to certain representations. The dramatic effect of the music depends, however, chiefly upon its execution, which naturally changes according to the action which it accompanies. Thus, if the actors represent a sentimental or heart-rending scene, their vocal effusions will naturally be in a subdued tone, and the sympathizing musicians will touch their instruments delicately and slowly. If, on the other hand, the actors represent some exciting or heart-stirring scene, they will naturally raise their voices, and the musicians will play louder and faster as a matter of course. In fact, when their pulse beats quicker, the rhythmical flow of their music, however rude and inartistic it may be, becomes more animated unpremeditatedly. Such is the most primitive condition, or the commencement of the development of dramatic music. Let us now examine it in a somewhat more advanced stage of cultivation.

The Javanese, who among the islanders of the Indian Archipelago are renowned for their skill in the dramatic art, generally use fabulous traditions from their own history, or Hindu legends, as subjects for their performances, which are acted exclusively by men. A full band of musicians generally accompanies the drama. The instruments mostly belong to the class called Instruments of Percussion, but several of them are constructed with plates of metal which produce a series of sweet tones, arranged according to the pentatonic scale. Some of the Javanese airs, which have been collected by Europeans, are very expressive, and it might be instructive to musical enquirers, if some really musical European visitor in Java would faithfully commit to notation the orchestral accompaniments of some of the most popular Javanese dramas. Madame Ida Pfeiffer relates that she was treated in the house of a Rajah, at Bandong, with a kind of pantomime in three acts, the third of which represented a combat. "The music that accompanied the combat," she remarks, "was very noisy and discordant; but, on the defeat of the one party, a soft plaintive melody arose at some distance off. The whole performance was really pretty and expressive."93 Sir Stamford Raffles, and other travellers, give similar descriptions, and have besides much to say about the clever puppet-shows of the Javanese, in which the characters of dramas are represented by puppets, or by their shadows.

The Siamese are fond of theatrical performances. According to Turpin's history of Siam, published in the year 1771, "whenever they burn the body of a minister or great man, a theatre is erected on the side of a river, where the actors appear habited according to their parts; and during three days they never quit the scene from eight in the morning till seven at night." De La Loubère, who visited Siam in the year 1687, says that the subjects of the dramas are "historical, in verse, serious, and sung by several actors who are always present, and who only sing reciprocally. One of them sings the historian's part, and the rest sing those of the personages which the history makes to speak; but they are all men that sing, and no women." About a century ago it appears to have been the custom to employ only men as actors, although there were female dancers. But, at the present day there are actresses, at any rate in the palace of the King, where Sir John Bowring saw them perform on several occasions. In one of these entertainments "the actors were all females, almost all girls. A few matrons, however, took the part of warriors, monkeys, priests; and the three manageresses, or prompteresses, were not only old and ugly, but seemed very spiteful, and on several occasions scolded and slapped the ladies who required correction. One of them had the drama written on black sheets in white letters before her, from which she prompted the singers of the recitative. The story began by the appearance of a monster monkey in a forest, which is visited by a number of ladies of rank, one of whom, after an unsuccessful struggle, the others having managed to escape, the monster monkey contrives to carry off. She is redeemed by the interference of a priest, whose temple is in the forest. Afterwards we are introduced to a sovereign Court, where all the ceremonies are observed which are practised in daily life, the dresses being those ordinarily worn, and most gorgeous they are… There is a battle, and rewards to the victors, and a crowning of a king's son in recompense for his valour, and offerings to Buddha, and a great feast, etc."94 The principal performers act, but do not speak. The tale is told in recitative by a body of singers, accompanied by various instruments. The band assisting generally consists of about twenty members who play on wind instruments of the oboe kind, gongs, large castanets above a foot in length, and several sonorous instruments of percussion constructed with slabs of wood, or plates of metal, somewhat similar to those of the Javanese before mentioned.

The Cochin-Chinese are remarkably fond of dramatic entertainments, which are generally of an operatic character commemorating historical events. An English gentleman who witnessed the performance of some of these plays remarks of the actors: "Their singing is good, when the ear has become accustomed to it; and the modulation of voice of the females is really captivating."95 Sir George Staunton was evidently surprised to find that a kind of historical opera, which he heard in the town of Turon (called by the natives Hansán) contained recitatives, airs, and choruses, which were, he says, "as regular as upon the Italian stage." He adds: "Some of the female performers were by no means despicable singers. They all observed time accurately, not only with their voices, but every joint of their hands and feet was obedient to the regular movement of the instruments."96 The band consisted of stringed instruments, wind instruments, and instruments of percussion. Sir John Barrow describes the theatre at Turon as "a shed of bamboo." He relates: "In the farther division of the building a party of comedians was engaged in the midst of an historical drama when we entered; but, on our being seated they broke off, and, coming forward, made before us an obeisance of nine genuflexions and prostrations, after which they returned to their labours, keeping up an incessant noise and bustle during our stay. The heat of the day, the thermometer in the shade standing at 81 deg. in the open air, and at least 10 deg. higher in the building, the crowds that thronged to see the strangers, the horrible crash of the gongs, kettle-drums, trumpets, and squalling flutes, were so stunning and oppressive that nothing but the novelty of the scene could possibly have detained us for a moment. The most entertaining, as well as the least noisy part of the theatrical exhibition, was a sort of Interlude, performed by three young women for the amusement, it would seem, of the principal actress, who sat as a spectator in the dress and character of some ancient Queen, whilst an old eunuch, very whimsically dressed, played his antic tricks like a scaramouch or buffoon in a Harlequin entertainment. The dialogue in this part differed entirely from the querulous and nearly monotonous recitation of the Chinese, being light and comic, and occasionally interrupted by cheerful airs which generally concluded with a chorus. These airs, rude and unpolished as they were, appeared to be regular compositions, and were sung in exactly measured time. One in particular attracted our attention, whose slow melancholy movement breathed the kind of plaintiveness so peculiar to the native airs of the Scotch, to which indeed it bore a close resemblance."

Probably the air was founded on the pentatonic scale, which is common in the music of the Chinese and Javanese, and of which traces are to be found in the Scotch popular tunes.

"The voices of the women are shrill and warbling, but some of their cadences were not without melody. The instruments at each pause gave a few short flourishes, till the music gradually increased in loudness by the swelling and deafening gong. Knowing nothing of the language, we were of course as ignorant of the subject as the majority of an English audience is of an Italian opera."97

A curious mode of paying the actors, which prevails in Cochin-China, may be mentioned here. An Englishman who was present at a theatrical performance in the town of Kangwarting, relates that the Quong, or governor of the province, bore the expense of the entertainment. The musical drama was performed in a large shed before a great concourse of spectators. "The Quong was there squatted on a raised platform in front of the actors with a small drum before him, supported in a diagonal position, on which he would strike a tap every time any part of the performance pleased him; which also was a signal for his purse-bearer to throw a small string of about twenty cash to the actors. To my taste, this spoiled the effect of the piece; for, every time the cash fell among them there would be a silence, and the next moment a scramble for the money; and it fell so frequently as almost to keep time with the discordant music of the orchestra. The actors were engaged by the day, and in this manner received their payment, the amount of which entirely depended upon the approbation of the Quong and the number of times he encored them by tapping his drum. I could see that many of them paid far more attention to the drum than they did to their performance; though I suppose, the amount thrown to them is equally divided. Sometimes the string on which the cash was tied, unluckily broke, and the money flew in all directions; by which some of the bystanders profited, not being honourable enough to hand it up to the poor actors."98

The Burmese have dramas performed by men, and also comedies represented by means of marionettes, or puppets. In the latter entertainments the figures are cleverly managed by persons situated beneath a stage which is hidden by a coarse curtain. The dialogues between these figures are much relished by the common spectators. At any rate, as they are apt to elicit uproarious mirth, they may be supposed to be often irresistibly comic. The real dramatic performances of the Burmese are acted by professional players, generally in the open air. The principal characters of the piece usually consist of a prince, a princess, a humble lover, a slave, and a buffoon. The female characters are represented by boys dressed in female attire. The dresses are handsome and gorgeous. However, the best theatrical performances take place in a building. On these occasions, there are two musical bands, one being placed on each side of the scene. The principal musical instruments of such an orchestra are of the percussion kind, containing a series of sonorous slabs of wood, or plates of metal, and somewhat resembling the Javanese instruments, but being attuned according to a diatonic order of intervals, instead of the pentatonic order. Also a curious contrivance, consisting of a set of drums suspended in a frame, each drum having a fixed tone, is used on these occasions. Moreover, the Burmese orchestra generally contains several wind instruments of the oboe and trumpet kind, as well as cymbals, large castanets of split bamboo, and other instruments of percussion, which serve to heighten the rhythmical effect of the music. The story of the drama is usually taken from ancient Burmese history. Captain Henry Yule, who has given a more detailed account of the Burmese plays than any previous traveller, remarks that when he was at Amarapoora he procured copies of some of the plays which he saw acted, from which it was evident to him that, while the general plan of the drama, comprising the more dignified and solemn part of the dialogue, was written down at considerable length, the humorous portions were left to the extempore wit of the actors. The following scenes are from a drama commemorating an episode from the life of Oodeinna, King of Kauthambi, a country in India. This drama, which was obtained by Captain Henry Yule, is a translation from the Pali, and the whole is in Burmese verse of four syllables.

(The scene opens in the Capital of Kauthambi. The king is seated on his throne, with his courtiers around him.)

King.– (Addresses them) "Great nobles and chiefs!"

Nobles.– "Phra, (Lord)!"

King.– "Are my subjects happy and prosperous?"

Nobles.– "Since Your Majesty's happy reign began, religion has shone forth with splendour; the seasons have been propitious; the earth has been bountiful; the rich and the poor, men and women, have enjoyed peace and prosperity, and the happy years have been to them as water to the lotus."

(Scene closes.) Himalaya Mountains. – Enter a Nát. 99

Nát.– "Now I am a Nát! When, and in what body was I before? Ah! looking with a Nát's eyes and understanding, I perceive I was a hermit in these wilds. My companion, Alakappa, is still here. I will seek my friend."

(Approaches a cave.)

Hermit.– "Who art thou that comest suddenly to my cell in the garb and appearance of a Nát, with the nine jewels in thy crown?"

Nát.– "O holy Hermit, of a good lineage, who ever livest in the forest, tell me all thou desirest, so that nought may remain unsaid!"

Hermit.– "O Nát, who by stupendous merit has reached the exalted abode! I have nothing particular to ask; but numerous elephants come around my cell and do great damage. Be pleased to forbid this for the future."

Nát.– "O holy Hermit! I will give thee a golden harp, and by the virtue of its sounds, and thy songs accompanying, elephants will come or go as thou commandest."

From this passage it is evident that the Burmese ascribe to music a great power, and the same is also indicated in several other remarks occurring in the drama. It is, however, unnecessary here to give the entire drama, which the reader will find in the interesting book above alluded to.100 Suffice it to notice the following passages from a subsequent scene.

(The young Prince Oodeinna enters. The Hermit presents him with the golden harp and teaches him a tune and song. The Prince retires to a tree, ascends it, and plays. The wild elephants of the forest come around him, and are obedient to his voice and harp, etc.– )