The Comedie Francaise at Orange by Thomas A. Janvier

Of scenery, in the ordinary sense of the word, there was none at all. What we saw was the real thing. In the opening scene of "Oedipus," the _King_ -- coming forward through the royal portal, and across the raised platform in the rear of the stage -- did literally "enter from the palace," and did "descend the palace steps" to the "public place" where _Creon_ and the priests awaited him. It was a direct reversal of the ordinary effect in the ordinary theatre: where the play loses in realism because a current of necessarily recognized, but purposely ignored, antagonistic fact underruns the conventional illusion and compels us to perceive that the palace is but painted canvas, and (even on the largest stage) is only four or five times as high as the _Prince_. The palace at Orange -- towering up as though it would touch the very heavens, and obviously of veritable stone -- was a most peremptory reality.

The fortuitous accessory of the trees growing close beside the stage added to the outdoor effect still another very vivid touch of realism; and this was heightened by the swaying of the branches, and by the gracious motion of the draperies, under the fitful pressure of the strong gusts of wind. Indeed, the mistral took a very telling part in the performance. Players less perfect in their art would have been disconcerted by it; but these of the Comedie Francaise were quick to perceive and to utilize its artistic possibilities. In the very midst of the solemn denunciation of _Oedipus_ by _Tiresias_, the long white beard of the blind prophet suddenly was blown upward so that his face was hidden and his utterance choked by it; and the momentary pause, while he raised his hand slowly, and slowly freed his face from this chance covering, made a dramatic break in his discourse and added to it a naturalness which vividly intensified its solemn import. In like manner the final entry of _Oedipus_, coming from the palace after blinding himself, was made thrillingly real. For a moment, as he came upon the stage, the horror which he had wrought upon himself -- his ghastly eye-sockets, his blood-stained face -- was visible; and then a gust of wind lifted his mantle and flung it about his head so that all was concealed; and an exquisite pity for him was aroused -- while he struggled painfully to rid himself of the encumbrance -- by the imposition of that petty annoyance upon his mortal agony of body and of soul.