stage; he gives us suggestion instead of reality, a symbol instead of an
imitation; and he relies, for his effects, on a new system of lighting
from above, not from below, and on a quite new kind of drill, as I may
call it, by which he uses his characters as masses and patterns,
teaching them to move all together, with identical gestures. The eye is
carried right through or beyond these horizons of canvas, and the
imagination with it; instead of stopping entangled among real stalks and
painted gables.

I have seen nothing so imaginative, so restful, so expressive, on the
English stage as these simple and elaborately woven designs, in patterns
of light and drapery and movement, which in "The Masque of Love" had a
new quality of charm, a completeness of invention, for which I would
have given all d'Annunzio's golden cups and Mr. Tree's boats on real
Thames water.

Here, for once, we see the stage treated in the proper spirit, as
material for art, not as a collection of real objects, or the imitation
of real objects. Why should not the visible world be treated in the same
spirit as the invisible world of character and temperament? A fine play
is not the copy of an incident or the stenography of a character. A
poetical play, to limit myself to that, requires to be put on the stage
in such a way as to suggest that atmosphere which, if it is a true poem,
will envelop its mental outlines. That atmosphere, which is of its
essence, is the first thing to be lost, in the staging of most poetical
plays. It is precisely what the stage-manager, if he happens to have the
secret of his own art, will endeavour most persistently to suggest. He
will make it his business to compete with the poet, and not, after the
manner of Drury Lane, with the accidents of life and the vulgarities of
nature.

ON CROSSING STAGE TO RIGHT

If you look into the actors' prompt-books, the most frequent direction
which you will find is this: "Cross stage to right." It is not a mere
direction, it is a formula; it is not a formula only, but a universal
remedy. Whenever the action seems to flag, or the dialogue to become
weak or wordy, you must "cross stage to right"; no matter what is wrong
with the play, this will set it right. We have heard so much of the
"action" of a play, that the stage-manager in England seems to imagine
that dramatic action is literally a movement of people across the stage,
even if for no other reason than for movement's sake