A
Glimpse of Theatre History
DIORAMA:
Many plays in the Nineteenth Century relied on elaborate machinery to create what were regarded as realistic effects. When properly executed many of these machines performed beautifully and dazzled audiences hungry for spectacle.
The most elaborate diorama was built in 1822 by photography pioneer Louis Jacques Mandé Daguerre (1787-1851), originally a stage designer and scene painter in Paris. Daguerre's aim was to produce naturalistic illusion for the public. Huge pictures, 70 x 45 feet in size, were painted on translucent material with a painting on each side. By elaborate lighting - the front picture could be seen by direct reflected light, while varied amounts and colours of light transmitted from the back revealed parts of the rear painting - the picture could ‘imitate aspects of nature as presented to our sight with all the changes brought by time, wind, light, atmosphere’
This excerpt from the Autobiography of John B. Gough, campaigner against demon rum, gives a glimpse of the practical (or impractical) side of this fascinating piece of 19th Century theatre technology… .
| …There was an exhibition of the Battle of Bunker
Hill to be opened in the town, and the manager, knowing that I had a good voice,
and sung pretty well, thought my comic singing would constitute an attraction;
so he engaged me to give songs every evening, and to assist in the general business
of the diorama. [ In this occupation, I continued about three weeks, or a month,
and when the exhibition closed in Newburyport, by invitation, I remained with
the proprietor, and proceeded with him to Lowell. As it was uncertain when I should
return,--the manager wishing me to travel with him, I sold off the few articles
of furniture yet remaining in my possession, and my wife arranged to stay, during
my absence with my sister. I staid in the town of Lowell for the space of three
months, my habits of intemperance increasing, as might be expected; for in a wandering
life my outbreaks were not so much noticed as when I was residing at home.] As
had been the case often before, rum claimed nearly all my attention, and consequently
the business I was called upon to perform was entirely neglected, or carelessly
attended to. One part of my business was to turn the crank, in bring on the troops; which were figures arranged in a frame, a dozen or more together, and placed on a band of leather, with cleets (sic) to hold them. This leather passed over rollers, and ran the whole length of the stage. One man placed them on the band, another at the other end took them off and sent them back to us, and there were presented again; so that with a very few figures we cold parade quite an army. To turn this crank, required a steady hand, and I am afraid manh of the soldiers marched by jerks. Then part of the business was to lie on my back during the bombardment of Charlestown, and while one man worked the figures at their guns, I was, at a signal, to apply a match to some powder I held on a piece of tin, for the flash, when another man struck the big drum, for the report. Often the report came before the flash, and sometimes there was no flash at all. Occasionally I would lift my hand through the hole so high, that the audience saw the operation. Then there would be a laugh and a hiss. Oh! It was miserable work--half suffocated with the smoke, blackened with the powder, sometimes fingers burned or hair and eyebrows singed, for a salary meager indeed, when I might have done so well. Have I not cause to hate the drink? Yes, I do hate it. And I pray God to give me an everlasting increasing capacity to hate it. On several occasions when I repaired to the place where the diorama was exhibited, I was in such a state that I could do nothing required of me, and severe were the rebukes I received in consequence, from my employer… |
A massive restored canvas of the Battle of Gettysburg is on display ant the Visitor's Center at the Gettysburg National Park.
