A Painting on the skin – from text to act

Assi Karttunen, musician-researcher, DocMus, Sibelius-Academy

Introduction

This article presents a research plan for my artistic post doctoral study combining theoretical research with my work as a musician. The research concentrates on the rhetorical act (actio); voice, gestures, movements and facial expressions. In particular, the work aims at bringing into focus and experimenting with the bodily or physical rehearsals, approaches, methods and practices described in the rhetorical source literature of the eighteenth-century France. The metaphor in the title can be found in the work of Charles Batteux; he uses it to describe his viewpoints on introspection and observation as a part of artistic expression. (Batteux 1753, 178.)

To embark on a project with an aim like this – to study the rehearsing approaches and practices of the eighteenth-century French vocal music – means, to start with, that one cannot find safety in “hiding behind the sources”. The source material does not contain any self-evident answers, nor does it guarantee that going about it this way or that way will make the performance absolutely correct in a scholarly or scientific sense. As a musician-researcher and a harpsichordist, I have to acknowledge that my relationship with the tradition is a constantly reshaping concept based on my experience and knowledge, but created ultimately in my mind and in my body; it is a concept full of contradictions. There is no such thing as a living musical tradition without a living bodily being trying to understand it.

As far as I’m concerned, this means that the whole concept of performing in a concert might require an attitude which is more personally engaging, imaginative and physical. In this perspective, the performance would not even attempt to be just a reconstruction. The concert-performance thus created would let the original ideas and concepts – those found in the eighteenth-century music, poetry and source material – breathe as a part of our twenty-first century reality. However, the only way to reach this goal is through research. In the words of John Butt, who, along with Richard Taruskin, has given much thought to this subject: “Reconstruction should add its valuable mite to the pile but cannot substitute for the pile itself” (Butt 2002, 16).

I am grateful for the opportunity to share in this article some of the questions I have worked with during the past years. In the following, I will define the basic research questions and describe the experimental process that we are about to start with my fellow musicians in search for suitable and well-functioning ways for rehearsing and practicing the French dramatic vocal music of the eighteenth-century.

The main question is how we could benefit from using the eighteenth-century approaches for rehearsing and practicing French dramatic music. What kind of rehearsing practices have been documented in the eighteenth-century? Furthermore, how do singers and musicians feel about using these kinds of rehearsing patterns? And finally, does this kind of an approach actually prove itself helpful?

About observation and introspection

The eighteenth-century philosophers, artists and art commentators put a remarkable effort on categorizing the human emotions and their bodily manifestations. The tendency to examine emotional processes, originated elsewhere, spread wider to concern the field of art. Some of the classifications were obviously based on science now considered out of date. However, the discussion on the true nature of expressiveness that went on for decades is still utterly meaningful for practicing performers, since it reveals a lot about the systems and approaches that were utilized at the time.

To simplify the discourse I have chosen two examples:

Jean-Baptiste Dubos (also known as l’abbé Du Bos), a skillful orator, maintained as a key concept the French term sensibilité. To be able to perform expressively the artist needed a well-trained, highly strung nervous system, sometimes compared metaphorically to the phenomena of hydraulics or acoustics. The sensibilité allowed the performer to experience sincerely the emotions he or she was performing. For Dubos, this was the truest kind of imitation. Dubos maintained the emotions’ infectious quality; “someone who is touched by an emotion touches us effortlessly”.

Dubos, J.-B. [1719] 1737. Réflexions critiques sur la Poésie et sur la Peinture:

“Why is it that the actors who become truly passionate when reciting,
even if they make essential mistakes, are still able to move and please
us: the reason is that someone who is touched by an emotion touches
us effortlessly.” [1]
“Such actors are genuinely moved, and this gives them the power to move
us, even if they are quite incapable of expressing the feelings and
passions with adequate noblesse or accuracy.” [2]

Teacher of rhetoric Charles Batteux, on the other hand, encouraged his students to create an imitation by observing the physiological signs of the emotions. For Batteux, the sincerity of the performer’s emotion was trivial; as irrelevant as a painting on living skin instead of on canvas. Emotions felt by the performer on stage were just an accident, not the purpose of the performance.

Batteux, C. [1746] 1753. Les Beaux-Arts reduits à un même principe:.

“[…] and if it happens sometimes that the musician or the dancer can
genuinely feel the emotion they are expressing, it is a coincidence - an
accidental circumstance which has nothing to do with the intention of
art: it is a picture painted on the skin, whereas it should only be painted
on canvas.” (Batteux 1753, 178.) [3]

Many performers aimed at creating a moving statue; a character whose movements, gestures and poses expressed the necessary impulses. In order to create this kind of imitation, it was possible to use statues and paintings as an inspiration. For example, singing teacher Jean Bérard fantasizes about a Pygmalion-like artist who could create a man-size singing statue, an automaton, capable of executing the most virtuosic arias without any difficulty. [4] But later he concludes that the ability to think and to feel is the most important quality in a good singer. (Bérard [1755] 1984, 45-46 and 139.)

For a musician it is not interesting to argue about whether Dubos was right or wrong or whether his thoughts were actually not so far removed from those of Batteux. From a performing artist’s point of view, all these described approaches can serve as valuable material. The same artist could actually use several approaches, as we can see in Mlle Clairon´s case.

Claire-Josèphe Léris or Claire-Hippolyte de la Tude (1723-1803), also known as Mlle Clairon, was a celebrated actress in the eighteenth-century Paris. In her Mémoirs she describes her methods to prepare for different roles:

“I hope I shall be pardoned for observing, that I have often smiled at the folly of those who have upbraided me for having recourse to art. Alas! What should I have been without it? Could I have personated Roxane, Amenaïde, or Viriate? Should I be consistent if I was to apply my own feelings and habits to such characters? Doubtless not. How am I enabled to substitute the ideas, sentiments, and feelings, which should distinguish those characters, in lieu of my own? It is by art alone it can be done: for if ever I have seemed to personate them in a manner purely natural, it is because my studies, joined to some happy gifts which I may have derived from nature, have conducted me to the perfection of art.” (Clairon 1800, 46.)

In the above citation, Mlle Clairon seems to emphasize premeditated and carefully practiced skills as the most important aspect of creating an imitation. The following passage, however, shows her attempt to describe the inner process of creating an imitation by plunging into the emotions that the character is experiencing.

“Every motion of the soul is expressed through the medium of the countenance: the extension of the muscles, the swelling of the veins, the blush upon the face, all evince those inward emotions, without which great talents cannot display themselves. There is no character in which the expression of the countenance is not the utmost importance. To feel a character, and to show by the motion of the countenance that the soul is agitated by what it feels, is a talent of equal consequence in an actress with any she possess.” (Clairon 1800 89-90.)

The two projects

For a musician engaged in early music, the subject includes two projects:

1. the research study and 2. the artistic project; an ideal combination.

A performing artist (singer, actor, orator, musician) can use all the eighteenth-century practices, methods, techniques and approaches that have been described in this article. The artist can use the inner-felt emotions to create an imitation; or, if necessary, he or she can use the bodily manifestations to grasp the authentic sentiment. Both these approaches were used by the eighteenth-century actors, singers, orators and other performing artists. A single artist often used several kinds of approaches, depending on the task in question. To be able to use those approaches they have to be studied profoundly.

A case study: Médée by Louis-Nicolas Clérambault

The 3rd recitative of Clérambault’s cantata Médée for a soprano [5] is a good example for my purposes. The text is highly dramatic, portraying the betrayed Medea in the middle of self-accusations. She is regretting the fact that she helped her hero Jason, but got just a broken heart as a reward. The poisonous effect of jealousy can already be heard in the second phrase where she is imagining Jason with his new beloved Creuse. Finally, she is taking the revenge on Creuse, instead of on Jason. The evocation is a malicious spell, put on her rival by the powerful witch and resentful woman.

Louis-Nicolas Clérambault´s cantata Médée, the 3rd recitative and the following aria called “Invocation”. [6]

Mais quelle est mon erreur extrême?	But what is my great mistake?
Pour sauver un ingrate	To save the ingrate
je me trahis moi-même,	I betrayed myself
Tandis que le perfide aux pieds des immortels	while perhaps at this moment the villain
Peut-être en ce moment	is being united to his love
s´unit à ce qu´il aime.	at the feet of the immortals.

C´est trop souffrir	It is too much
des affronts si cruels,	to suffer such cruel affronts,
Vengeons ma flamme malheureuse.	my unhappy passion must be avenged.
Livrons l´ingrat Jason	Let us deliver the ungrateful Jason
À des maux éternels	to eternal woes
En perdant ma Rivale heureuse.	while destroying my fortunate rival.

Invocation	Invocation
Cruelle fille des Enfers	Hideous jealousy,
Démon fatal, affreuse jalousie	you fatal demon, Cruel daughter of Hell
Pour venger ma flame trahie	My deceived love;
Venez, sortez, vos gouffres sont ouverts	come forth to avenge your abysses are open.

Venez, venez, punissez ma Rivale	Come, come, punish my rival
Des maux affreux que jái soufferts,	for the fearful anguish I have suffered:
Rendez sa peine à ma fureur égale	make her pain equal my fury,
Que son sulpice étonne l´Univers.	and let her torment amaze the universe.

Figure 1. Louis-Nicolas Clérambault’s cantata Médée, the 3rd recitative and the following aria called “Invocation”, the fort viste, bars 7-30.

The beginning of the recitative is written in a French kind of secco recitativo style and is relatively free in a rhythmical sense. In bar seven, the tempo changes radically (fort viste ie. very quickly) and the bass line moves in the sixteenth-notes as rapidly as possible. The boiling effect has also been created by using harmonic progressions circulating in c minor and g minor tonalities. The whole passage ends in C major chord as a prelude to the evil aria (Invocation) in f minor.

F minor key has a special role in the harmonic world of the French eighteenth-century music. For example, Jacques Duphly uses it in his solo harpsichord work Médée. The effect of this key is usually described as dark and gloomy. For a singer this kind of recitative-aria-couple gives a lot of possibilities. The main challenge is how to make Medea frightening enough. “The Invocation” should sound bloodcurdlingly threatening. If we take the eighteenth-century performers´ advice to heart and study paintings and statues as material for our “moving puppet”, the paintings portraying Mlle Clairon in the role of Medea are indeed valuable. Still, a painting or a statue gives us only one pose, not the sequence of poses. Therefore the performer has to compose the whole episode using his or her imagination and intuition. For me, the eighteenth-century idea of creating a fitting pantomime is more important than creating an exactly correct or authentic pantomime.

Figure 2. Painting portraying Mlle Clairon in the role of Medea in Hilaire de Longepierre's play Médée (based on Euripides´s Medea). Engraving by L. Cars and J. Beauvarlet after a painting by Carlo La VanLoo.

In the painting Mlle Clairon is seen in a whirlwind of a smoky cloud caused by her magical charms. She is standing in a flying carriage drawn by a dragon and holding a torch in her left hand and a dagger in her right hand. Her eyes look glazed, frozen, and something about her appearance gives an impression of absence, as if she was hallucinating. Creuse lies at her feet and Jason, frightened, is receding helplessly. The act is fully staged and the set buildings are impressive. Of course the cantata-performance does not need that kind of elaborate machinery. However, the actors and singers shared a common rhetorical heritage; the eloquence of movements, poses and facial impressions. This concerned especially tragic roles in the opera and the theatre.

Rehearsing a sequence of movements and gestures requires an initial period during which the text is treated as a speech, without a need to worry too much about singing.

to read the text
to declaim the text with approaching the notated pitches
to pronounce the text with the composed rhythm

Diderot pays attention to the expressions that appear spontaneous, and have not necessarily been written in the manuscript: “[…] shouts, muffled words, cracked up voices, monosyllables escaping now and then, some kind of throaty murmurs, sounds uttered through the teeth. The force of the feeling that takes the breath away and confuses the mind, the syllables that separate from the words […]” (Diderot 1981, 90.) [7]

In fact, it is possible to forget about the text at first and only focus on composing a pantomime. [8] The pantomime can also be created by the singer herself. The eighteenth-century theatrical tradition did not actually know the concept of a director in a modern sense, although in many cases the playwright directed himself. It is important to analyze the emotional dynamics the recitative is representing:

to know the story (Ovide, Euripides)
to classify the emotions
to detect the physiological signs of the emotions
to reflect upon the inner logic of the story.

Pantomime, the moving puppet

to write a preparatory manuscript for the “moving puppet”, including 3 or 4 poses, facial expressions, positions and movements together with the performing singer
to draw the preparatory pantomime-manuscript as a map on paper
to experiment with different versions of the manuscript and to improvise
to experiment with the timing by giving different rhythmical shapes for the text and the pantomime, including the expressed thoughts, emotions and reactions.

Usually I have offered the singers a sort of manuscript as a framework to give the performance a basic structure. Still, the process of rehearsing is producing new ways of representing the ideas described in the manuscript. The result is thus a combination of premeditated ideas and improvised sections created spontaneously during the rehearsal period. Of course the presence of the audience is also influencing the performance.

For me, the main challenge is to work with the emotional dynamics of this recitative-aria-couple: to start with the rhythmically fragmented questions and self-accusations of a desperate and disoriented character and to let the insulted jealousy creep in during the second phrase by doubled consonants in the pronunciation of the word le perfide. It would be interesting to exaggerate the poisonous and bitterly sweet nuance and pretentiously graceful ornament in the final Bb major chord and end the bar six in an ill-omened silence suddenly interrupted by the mesuré-section starting from bar 7.

It is possible to benefit from the eighteenth-century literature by using fitting physical manifestations for the delivery. The description written by Le Brun is strikingly dramatic.

Jealousy

“It is expressed by a wrinkled forehead, frowning, flashing eyes, and pupils hidden below the brow, seemingly turned away from the object of passion, yet looking at that object while that face is turned away. The pupils must appear restless and fiery, as well as the whites of the eyes and the lids; the nostrils pale, open and more noticeable than usual, and drawn back, making the lines on the cheeks appear. The mouth should be closed tight, indicating grating teeth; the lower lip should cover the upper lip, and the corners of the mouth should be pulled back and turned down; the muscles of the jaw should appear tense. A part of the face must look inflamed in color, another yellowish, with pale or ashen lips.” (Le Brun [1680, 1698 and 1727] 1994, 86-87).

For me, the most frightening aspect in this description is the distortion of the body. The object is not looked at directly but sideways from the corner of the eye. The eyes are turned to look at the object but the body tries not to reveal this hidden gaze. The description might appear exaggerated, but it would be interesting to experiment with this kind of violent twisting of the facial muscles, sudden micro expressions momentarily distorting the face, and immediately being replaced by a more controlled appearance. This description by Le Brun reminds me of a buto-dancer’s suddenly changing facial expressions.

In the next rapidly moving section, the melody line’s angular movements and pointed rhythms partly guarantee the aggression needed. It would be tempting to experiment with the voice’s uncontrolled angular leaps, letting the voice break into screaming in certain places, like the bar 21 (heureuse), the upbeat to the bar 24 (livrons) and the upbeat to the bar 29. The high soprano voice cracks so deliciously and the voice will then sound like a hawk’s crow. One can add necessary colors by doubling the consonants like s and r, for example in the words “ma rivale heureuse”. The sizzling sound of the doubled s- and r- consonants can bring a terrifying effect resembling an attacking snake. The doubling of the consonants is recommended for instance by Jean-Antoine Bérard [1755] 1984, 93-99.

Although these kinds of cantatas are not always performed on stage, it is necessary to think about the positions; whether the singer is moving from one place to another or just changing the direction of her body or of her look. The beginning of the first secco recitativo consists of a series of short sentences quite typical for this kind of cantata-texts expressing anxiety and inner pain. Denis Diderot gives some suggestions for a dramatic scene in his Entretiens sur Le Fils Naturel. In the state of anxious hesitation, the main character Dorval appears absent-looking, takes slow disoriented steps, sighs and even laughs without an obvious reason. (Diderot [1757] 1981, 128-129.)

If the section between the bars 7 and 30 builds up to an attack, taking a step forward would help in creating an aggressive impression. On the contrary, the “Invocation” might require another kind of an approach, a gesture that makes the singer’s appearance grow bigger, wider and more powerful. The stepping back and raising of the hands one after the other would be helpful (even without a torch and a dagger); for example, the raised hand pointing at the victim with a magician’s authority could do the trick. I would be interested in experimenting with the pace of the raising hand.

This is just one way to create our moving statue. For me, it is important just to be able to try things and let them find their own way of evolving. Usually the result is something that nobody could have foreseen. As a performer, I think that the inner-felt emotional expressions, even the manufactured, deliberately pretended ones, can be grasped by understanding them through one’s body; as sensations, poses, positions and movements.

One of my tasks as a musician-researcher is to aim at describing the processes being created. For this purpose, it is also necessary to videotape and to interview the singers with whom I am working. I have already started this videotaping in our concert called Les Bains des Tuileries, performed in the House of Nobility on the 6 November 2010. The interviews and the videotapes will be analyzed and interpreted as a part my research. The demonstration of this recitative by Clérambault is going to be performed by mezzo soprano Päivi Järviö and myself in the CARPA (Colloquium on Artistic Research in Performing Arts, Theatre Academy Helsinki) in January 2011.

For me, a musical performance is not only a painting on the skin but something even more corporeal. If we admit that the art of rhetoric had something to do with the eighteenth-century French cantata, why would it not include all the aspects of the rhetorical actio? The technique, the reactions, the gestures and the emotions are carved into our musician´ s flesh and they live as long as we perform. We are the Pygmalion´s bicordes pneumatiques in the body of a man-size singing statue. [9]

Notes

“Pourquoi les Acteurs qui se passionnent véritablement en déclament,
ne laissent-ils pas de nous émouvoir & de nous plaire, bien qu´ils aïent
des défauts essentiels: c´est que les hommes qui sont eux-mêmes
touchés, nous touchent sans peine.” (Dubos 1737, 39).
“Les Acteurs dont je parle, sont émus véritablement & cela leur donne le
droit de nous émouvoir, quoiqu´ils ne soient point capables d´exprimer
les passions avec la noblesse ni avec la justesse convenable.” (Dubos
1737, 39.)
“[…] et si quelquefois il arrive que le Musicien, ou le Danceur, soient
réellement dans le sentiment qu´ils expriment; c´est une circonstance
accidentelle qui n´est point du dessein de l´Art: c´est une peinture qui
se trouve sur une peau vivante, & qui ne devroit être que sur la toile.”
(Batteux 1753, 178.)
“Un Bicorde pneumatique dans le corps d´une statue de figure humaine de manière qu´on puisse le faire jouer.” (Bérard [1755] 1984, 45-46.)
A vois seul et simphonie.
The English translation of the cantata poem is by Lionel Salter 1980. The translation can be found in the leaflet of the recording Louis-Nicolas Clérambault Orphée et Médée, cantates. Polydor International GmbH, Hamburg 1980. Collectio Argenta.
"Qu´est-ce qui nous affecte dans le spectacle de l´homme animé de quelque grande passion? Sont-ce ses discours? Quelquefois. Mais ce qui émeut toujours, ce sont des cris, des mots inarticulés, des voix rompues, quelques monosyllabes qui s´échappent par intervalles, je ne sais quel murmure dans la gorge, entre les dents. La violence du sentiment coupant la respiration et portant le trouble dans l´esprit, les syllabes des mots se séparent…” (Diderot [17579] 1981, 90.)
Diderot describes the art of pantomime in his Entretiens sur Le Fils Naturel. (Diderot, [1757] 1981, 88-89.)
The language is inspected by Sirpa Miller, MA.

Sources

Bérard, Jean-Antoine [1755] 1984. L′Art du Chant. Facsimile. Genève: Minkoff.

Butt, John 2002. Playing with History. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Clairon, Mlle. Memoirs of Hippolyte Clairon, the celebrated French actress: with reflections upon the dramatic art: written by herself. Translated from the French 1800. London: printed for G.G. and J. Robinson; by S Hamilton 1800.

Diderot, Denis [1757] 1981. Entretiens sur Le Fils Naturel, Paradoxe sur le Comédien. Paris: Flammarion.

Dubos, Jean-Baptiste 1737. Réflexions critiques sur la Poésie et sur la Peinture. 4ème édition revue, corrigée & augmentée par l′Auteur. Paris: Pierre-Jeanne Mariette.

Lamy, Bernard 1741. La Rhetorique ou l′art de parler. Paris: Antoine-Claude Briasson.

Le Brun, Charles [1680, 1698 et 1727] 1994. Expressions des passions, Correspondance et autres conférances. Maisonneuve et Larose: Editions Dédale.

Le Cerf de la Viéville, Jean-Laurent [1705–1706] 1972. Comparaison de la Musique Italienne et de la Musique Françoise. Facsimile. Genève: Minkoff.

Mallet, Edme-François [1751–1772] 1966–1990. Article Expression (Belles-Lettres). Encyclopédie de Diderot et d´Alembert. Facsimile. Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Friedrich Fromman Verlag (Günther Holzboog).

Parker, Philippe 1996. Définir la passion: corrélation et dynamique. Seventeenth Century French Studies. Vol 18 (1996). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Rameau, Jean-Philippe [1722] 1984. Traité de l′Harmonie. Facsimile. Madrid: Arte Tripharia.

Rameau, Jean-Philippe [1769] 1965. Code de Musique. New York: Broude Brothers.

Roach, Joseph R. 1993 (1983). The Player’s Passion. Studies in the Science of Acting. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press.

Sainte-Albine, Pierre Rémond de. Le Comedien [1749] 1971. Geneva : Slatkine Reprints.

Taruskin, Richard 1995. Text and Act. New York, N.Y.: Oxford University Press.