CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER I.

ARCHITECTURAL TRADITION IN THE THEATRE:THE AUDITORIUM

Thereare, of course, other types of auditorium and platform than that of the theatre. Churches, lecture halls, and the chambers of legislative assemblies are planned with the same general end of making a person or persons at one part of the room audible and visible to many persons gathered in another part. The ready defense of much bad planning in school auditoriums is that they were not modelled after theatres but after one of these other forms. To-day this will not serve as a defense. Interest in the drama is too widespread, and recognition of the social potency of the theatre is too general. And whereas none of these other forms of audience chamber meets the needs of the theatre, a well-planned theatre can serve any use to which a gathered community may care to put it.

The rocks which threaten disaster to our intent to devise a room which may serve as theatre, assembly hall, chapel, or whatever, are, if we go to beginnings, the traditional form of the theatre and its traditionaldécor. In the latter, time has wrought many changes. It was once felt that a theatre was not a theatre if it was not adorned with a wealth of gilded cupids, masks, tambours, and daggers, surrounded by stucco wreaths and garlands in high relief, and interspaced with pictured panels of the muses, especially those most at home in a playhouse. And, indeed, about those old houses, their garishness now mellowed, there is a glamor peculiarly of the theatre, and a sweet mustiness in the air bespeaking audiences of perfumed ladies, long since dead, the grease-paint and pomade of a long line of players, old scenery, the fine fustian of the old plays. It is somewhat like the odor in a garret stored with the treasures of our grandparents, or the mustiness of an old book. But these are faded flowers that cannot be brought to life, and the theatre of to-day, its plays and its players, are moved by a different spirit. Whatever lure these tinselly old temples have is a reminiscent one. To-day, there may be found theatres with the simplicity and peace of a church, the unobtrusive luxury of the drawing-room, and even, by overshooting the mark of simplicity, the bareness of the lecture-room or the legislative chamber.

The greater sincerity that has come into the theatre, and that fear of romance that marks the first decade or more of the Twentieth Century, did much to overcome traditional over-elaboration. There has come, too, a marked freedom from tradition in the planning of the usual large show-houses. The more modern theatres are, for the most part, free from those glaring structural ineptitudes that several centuries of custom had imposed. In Germany especially (the traditional form of the theatre did not develop there), great progress has been made, and the theatres of such architects as Max Littmann and Oskar Kaufmann serve as models. Stage machinery in Germany has been brought to a point of perfection not yet reached in any other country. Lautenschlager, Brandt, and Fortuny (a Spaniard) have contributed inventions that have only occasionally been experimented with in this country, and then somewhat half-heartedly.

Tradition clings close to its native heath, nevertheless, and in England, to which America looks first, perhaps, and in the Latin countries, it has enough vitality still to be a source of danger. It may be worth while to scan the history of the tradition, especially from the “front of the house”, before we consider the stage itself. For it is from here that the gravest criticism against a stage can be made,—that it is not easily visible from all parts of the house.[1]

[1]I shall not consider it expedient, in any part of this discussion, to go into questions of engineering detail. It is assumed that the architect is equipped or will equip himself with such technical knowledge. Nor shall I refer to structural modifications brought about by the regulations of Boards of Fire Underwriters. These matters have been treated more or less efficiently in several other works, to which reference will be found in the Appendix.

[1]I shall not consider it expedient, in any part of this discussion, to go into questions of engineering detail. It is assumed that the architect is equipped or will equip himself with such technical knowledge. Nor shall I refer to structural modifications brought about by the regulations of Boards of Fire Underwriters. These matters have been treated more or less efficiently in several other works, to which reference will be found in the Appendix.

The form of the stage and the manner in which it has been used have, throughout the history of the theatre, been the primary factors in determining the shape of the auditorium. The Greek theatre was devoted to a ceremonial drama in honor of Dionysus, acted about an altar erected to him. So the stage took the form of a circular space with an altar in the center. The seating was arranged in concentric tiers, with the altar as a center, and more than half surrounded the stage space or orchestra. Tangent to this circle, and perpendicular to a line drawn through the center of the seating space, was built the skene, or back scene. At first, this was merely a dressing tent; later it was a wall, of wood or stone, masking the dressing-rooms of the actors. It was pierced with doors, giving access to thestage before it, and served as the palace, temple, or city wall, in front of which the scene of the play was laid. There is no satisfactory evidence that it gave on to a raised space conforming to the later stage platform. Chorus and actors were on the ground level of the orchestra. All the seats being raised, the spectator looked down upon the action of the play, and all the seats were set on radial lines drawn from the altar or center of the orchestra.

Stage of theTeatro Farneseat Parma, Italy. Anexample of the picture-frame stage set into theplastic stage of an antique theatre. See page 18.(From Hammitzsch’sDer Moderne Theaterbau.)

Stage of theTeatro Farneseat Parma, Italy. Anexample of the picture-frame stage set into theplastic stage of an antique theatre. See page 18.(From Hammitzsch’sDer Moderne Theaterbau.)

Contemporary sketch of an Elizabethan Theatre.(From Caffin’sAppreciation of the Drama.)

Contemporary sketch of an Elizabethan Theatre.(From Caffin’sAppreciation of the Drama.)

In the Roman theatre, a number of radical changes are to be noted. The large orchestra is no longer needed for a chorus, and the space is cut to a semicircle, in which are placed the chairs of the Senators. Since spectators are now on the ground level, the actors must be raised, and the stage becomes a long, shallow platform, beginning at the diameter of the circle. Raised tiers of seats, as in the Greek theatre, surround the semicircular ground space. At the back of the stage is a wall, orscæna, which also closes in each side of the stage, meeting the seats at the diameter ends. It is built to the height of the uppermost tier of seats. Since the stage extended almost the whole width of the seating, and was raised above the ground, sight lines were ideal.

Between the fall of the Roman Empire and the revival of classic learning in Italy, the theatre had no settled home. The drama went through various vicissitudes, took on new functions, expressed itself in new forms. The mediæval theatre of mysteries and miracles, after it had become secularized, went forth from the chancel of the church, and became a vagrant and an opportunist. It set up its paraphernalia in the public square, in the inn-yard, in the guild hall. For the most part, it was a daylight, outdoor recreation, with no fixed home, and no such special ceremonial functions as in the Greek and Roman state. It was proletarian, distinctly. With the Renaissance, in addition to the popular itinerant theatre of the people, there were two new manifestations. The humanists, in their academies, revived the Roman comedies of Plautus and Terence; the courts of the ruling families of the free cities became the scenes of magnificent productions of masques, pageants, “triumphs” and fêtes. These were usually allegories based on classic mythology or on ancient history, but presented largely in the form and manner of the popular drama of the time. To the presentation of the court fêtes, the greatest artists,—Bramante, Leonardo da Vinci, Giulio Romano, etc.,—brought their talents. They were given in the gardens of the palaces at night, illuminated by flares and fireworks. The “pageant” or wheeled stage of the mediæval populardrama, was used for the display of some large piece of decoration or machinery. As early as 1491, however, at Perugia, the first indoor performances were given. The stage went through various modifications, still keeping its resemblance to the stage of the mediæval drama, until one invention enforced the most radical development that had yet taken place,—perspective scenery. Hammitzsch[2]traces the invention of scenery in painted perspective to Bramante’s decoration of the sacristy of the Church of San Satiro in Milan. The wall painting represents in perspective an extended vista of the sacristy, in an attempt to make it appear larger. The modern counterpart is the mirrored restaurant. It is certain, at all events, that Peruzzi employed such scenery in dramatic representations in Rome before 1510. With these painted prospects came a variety of changes in the arrangements of the rooms in which the masques were given; the stage became more a place apart; it was set at the end of the room rather than along the sides, that the effect of distance produced by the painted prospects might be enhanced, and the proscenium frame enclosed it. However, when the theatre as a building designed specifically for the presentation of plays came into being, the form of auditorium was not so thoughtfully adapted to this new type of stage as had been the case with the ancient theatres. For it was to them that architects turned for models for the auditorium, though the stage was no longer the stage that went with the amphitheatre form of seating.

[2]Hammitzsch,Der Moderne Theaterbau, I. Teil, p. 11.

[2]Hammitzsch,Der Moderne Theaterbau, I. Teil, p. 11.

The theatre of the Academy of Olympians at Vicenza, begun in 1580 by the architect Palladio and completed in 1584 by his son Scillo (Fig. 1), is practically a Roman theatre roofed over, and equipped with a stage that compromises with the stage then in mode. It has a sloping floor (to increase the effect of the perspective) and alleys of scenery giving off each entranceway in the stage wall.

The Teatro Farnese in Parma, completed in 1619 by Aleotti, is the first modern theatre. In it appear theatre features that have come down to our own day,—the elongation of the amphitheatre auditorium into the horseshoe form, and a stage completely separated from the auditorium and equipped not only to handle the new scenery but to manipulate it quickly, so that changes of scene might be effected in the presence of the audience. In this theatre, Aleotti not only broke away fromthe classic stage but also from the multiple setting of the mediæval stage and definitely introduced the modern form of picture stage. Less completely did he break away from the classic seating, but he modified it somewhat to meet new conditions.

Figure 1—Plan of theTeatro Olympico, Vicenza.

Figure 1—Plan of theTeatro Olympico, Vicenza.

With Aleotti passed the period of primitive experiment with a new instrument. From his day until very recent years, there was to be no marked change, except the introduction of balconies, a feature already anticipated in the theatres of other countries and soon employed in Italy, and the further accentuation of the horseshoe form. The old circle plan became an ellipse, and still later, as the side balconies were brought in closer to the stage, an oval.

In England, very much the same history was enacted. The old English miracle and mystery gave the theatre its platform stage, but the imitations of Latin comedy first gave it a permanent home.

Public performances of university-made imitations of Roman comedy were common during the reign of Edward the Sixth, and during the reign of Elizabeth (1558-1603) seventeen professional theatres were licensed for the exhibition of contemporary plays.In something like sixty years, the English drama and the English theatre had grown from crude beginnings to the highest point they have yet reached. And it was by professional companies of actors presenting dramas and not by the court or academic presentations, that the theatre was first given form. These companies, like the craftsmen bands of miracle and mystery players,acted wherever they could find a place or wherever they were bidden,—at court, in great halls, in the provinces, in the church or the moot hall or the inn, and in London, in the inn-yard or bear pit. It was the inn-yard that was most used and had the greatest influence on the form of the playhouse.

Figure 2—Plans of the theatre just completed in Berlin for the Berliner Volksbühne. The form of the auditorium is typical of the latest practice in continental and American theatre design (seepage 27). The large amount of stage space, in proportion to the auditorium, however, is unfortunately not typical of American theatres. The second-floor plan is included to illustrate the general arrangement rather than to show the balcony form, which is neither typical nor particularly good.

Figure 2—Plans of the theatre just completed in Berlin for the Berliner Volksbühne. The form of the auditorium is typical of the latest practice in continental and American theatre design (seepage 27). The large amount of stage space, in proportion to the auditorium, however, is unfortunately not typical of American theatres. The second-floor plan is included to illustrate the general arrangement rather than to show the balcony form, which is neither typical nor particularly good.

The inns were usually built in the form of a hollow square. A small passage gave access to the inner court, which was surrounded by galleries. The stage would be erected at the end of the court opposite the entrance, and spectators stood on the level ground of the yard or found seats in the galleries. The bear pits or bull rings were usually circular buildings with several galleries similar to those of the inn-yards.

The earliest theatres, built about 1576, were round in shape, with these characteristic galleries. They seem to have been used interchangeably for theatrical performances and for bear-baiting. The centers were open to the sky, like the inn-yards, and only the galleries and part of the stage were roofed. The stages projected into the center, and could be viewed, both by spectators on the ground and by those in the galleries, from three sides. The only contemporary drawing of the Elizabethan stage is that of Johannes De Witt of the University of Utrecht, who visited London in 1596. His drawing of the Swan Theatre differs in many details from the specifications of the contract, but it gives a general idea of the form of auditorium and stage. With the building of these theatres,—The Theatre, The Curtain, The Hope, The Globe, Blackfriar’s, The Swan,—the use of the inn-yards did not cease, and the Queen’s men performed regularly at The Boar’s Head in Eastcheap as late as 1603.[3]

[3]Ashley H. Thorndike,Shakespeare’s Theatre, p. 42.

[3]Ashley H. Thorndike,Shakespeare’s Theatre, p. 42.

Contemporaneously, there were in England, as abroad, spectacular performances at court, richly costumed and decorated. They were performed in spacious palace halls, being acted on pageant wagons or on the main floor, and were viewed from benches and balconies around the sides. Eventually the pageant gave way to a stage temporarily erected at one end of the room, the dancers descending to the main floor for large ensembles and ballets. As early as 1607, scenery, curtains, and a proscenium arch had been used. The picture stage, with its scenery in painted perspective, was an importation from Italy, following a visit there of Inigo Jones, and under his hand reached a high degree of development during the third decade of the Seventeenth Century.

Figure 3—Above is the section of the Little Theatre, New York, showing clearly the relationship of the stage, auditorium and other portions of the building. The dressing-rooms are above the auditorium and are reached by both stairs and elevator. On the opposite page is the first-floor plan of the building. It is a notable example of the best contemporary American practice in auditorium arrangement. These drawings illustrate the building as originally constructed, without the recently added balcony and other changes. Harry Creighton Ingalls and F. B. Hoffman Jr., Associate Architects.

Figure 3—Above is the section of the Little Theatre, New York, showing clearly the relationship of the stage, auditorium and other portions of the building. The dressing-rooms are above the auditorium and are reached by both stairs and elevator. On the opposite page is the first-floor plan of the building. It is a notable example of the best contemporary American practice in auditorium arrangement. These drawings illustrate the building as originally constructed, without the recently added balcony and other changes. Harry Creighton Ingalls and F. B. Hoffman Jr., Associate Architects.

With the reopening of the theatres after the Restoration, the practice of the Italian theatre and opera house superseded the old-English tradition practically altogether, the only noteworthy remnant being the social distinction that made the ground level or “pit” the place of the proletariat in the theatre. The visits of the aristocracy to the theatre during the Elizabethan period, even when theatres were under court patronage, were something in the nature of an escapade. The sheltered galleries were reserved for the gentry, and the unroofed ground space or pit was open to the crowd. From the galleries, moreover, a better view of the protruding three-sided stage was to be had. In the later, wholly-roofed theatres, the stage still protruded somewhat. A great curved “apron” projected beyond the proscenium. Nor was the proscenium the mere picture-frame of to-day, but a deep portal. The balconies extended over the stage to the curtain, so that spectators at the forward ends of the balconies were directly above the stage. The balconies were given swelling curves, bringing them further toward the center of the stage, so that those who occupied these forward seats could not only see but could be seen. The stage boxes of to-day are a relic of this type of apron-stage theatre, and to-day, with the picture frame stage, serve no purpose but the stupid social one of self-display.

The apron stage preserved one great advantage of the platform stage: that of keeping the stage grouping, for at least a part of the audience, plastic. And the dimness of candle or oil footlights compelled the actors to keep to the front of the stage as much as possible. The disappearance of the apron has been due wholly to the improved lighting of the modern theatre. With its disappearance should go the auditorium features that belonged with it. And even though there have been occasional reversions to the platform stage and apron in the productions of Granville Barker or Jacques Copeau, there is no occasion for the revival of the horseshoe balcony or the stage box. In later pages of this paper, where I deal specifically with the stage, I shall recommend provision being made for an apron, either permanent or movable; but the auditorium should not revert.

Auditorium of the Little Theatre, New York. This building, constructed for Winthrop Ames in 1912, still stands as probably the best-designed small theatre in America. This photograph shows the absence of boxes, the carefully adjusted floor slope, and the harmony of all the decorative elements, although it hardly does justice to the intimate “feel” of the room. Recently large changes have been made in the building, a balcony having been added and a new decorative scheme carried out. Harry Creighton Ingalls and F. B. Hoffman Jr., Associate Architects.

Auditorium of the Little Theatre, New York. This building, constructed for Winthrop Ames in 1912, still stands as probably the best-designed small theatre in America. This photograph shows the absence of boxes, the carefully adjusted floor slope, and the harmony of all the decorative elements, although it hardly does justice to the intimate “feel” of the room. Recently large changes have been made in the building, a balcony having been added and a new decorative scheme carried out. Harry Creighton Ingalls and F. B. Hoffman Jr., Associate Architects.

Exterior of the Little Theatre, New York. Harry Creighton Ingalls and F. B. Hoffman Jr., Architects. (FromThe New Movement in the Theatre, by courtesy of Mitchell Kennerley.)

Exterior of the Little Theatre, New York. Harry Creighton Ingalls and F. B. Hoffman Jr., Architects. (FromThe New Movement in the Theatre, by courtesy of Mitchell Kennerley.)

With modern resources in lighting and construction engineering, most of the “practical” considerations that determined the form of the old houses do not apply, and the social considerations that called for the display of certain parts of the audience are not even tacitly acknowledged in the more democratictheatre of to-day, except at the opera. Accordingly, the procedure of the architect should be governed wholly by considerations of utility.

The first consideration is that of visibility. A sight line drawn from any seat in the auditorium should give a clear view of the entire stage. As a general rule, therefore, the seating space should be very little wider than the stage opening. A sight line drawn from a seat to the right or the left of the proscenium arch past the corresponding side of the arch will cut off that corner of the stage. The closer the seat is to the stage the greater is the part of the stage concealed. (SeeFig. 4.) Accordingly, it is the custom in most modern theatres to narrow the auditorium as it approaches the stage, so that the front of the seating is no greater in width than the width of the proscenium. The rear of the auditorium is slightly wider. (SeeFigs. 2and3.)

As a concession to this plan, the back of a stage setting is often narrower than the front. That is, in the case of an interior setting, the side walls of the room represented, instead of being set at right angles to the back wall, as is the case in most rooms, are set at an angle corresponding to the sight lines drawn from the extreme right and left ends of the last row of seats. This is purely a convention, required by the shape of the playhouse, and pardonable on the ground that it is less irritating to look at a distorted room than to be unable to see its corners.

At all events, this form of auditorium affords a higher visibility than did the old horseshoe shape. The most noteworthy move toward the adoption of this type of seating was made by Richard Wagner in the construction of the Opera House at Bayreuth. Here the auditorium is in the shape of a fan or blunt-nosed wedge, with the stage at the narrow end. The most approved type of modern auditorium follows this form to some extent. In such theatres as the Künstler Theater in Munich (Littmann), or his Prinz-Regenten Opera House, this plan is developed. (SeeFig. 5.)

The general plan of the best modern American theatres is rectangular with the side walls converging toward the stage, beginning at a point about two-thirds of the way from the back. The seats are in concentric rows following a curve drawn from a center approximately at the middle of the back wall of the stage. The back wall of the auditorium follows the curve of the seats. The Little Theatre in New York is built on this plan. Where balconies are included, they have only a slight curve, approximately the same as that of the orchestra seats.

Figure 4—Plan of the theatre at the Carnegie Institute of Technology, Pittsburgh. The sight-lines from the sides of the auditorium are badly distorted, evidently to preserve the novel architectural effect of an elliptical room. By drawing lines from the outmost seats in the first five rows, it can be seen that spectators there will be shut off from any view of more than half the stage space. The one outstanding feature here is the large amount of space given to scenery storage-room and green-room.

Figure 4—Plan of the theatre at the Carnegie Institute of Technology, Pittsburgh. The sight-lines from the sides of the auditorium are badly distorted, evidently to preserve the novel architectural effect of an elliptical room. By drawing lines from the outmost seats in the first five rows, it can be seen that spectators there will be shut off from any view of more than half the stage space. The one outstanding feature here is the large amount of space given to scenery storage-room and green-room.

It is a common fault of school auditoriums that the seating is extended to the right and the left of the stage, so that a considerable number of seats are valueless for seeing. They preserve, also, for no known reason, other than that it has been the theatre practice, the apron, projecting far beyond the line of the proscenium arch.

A second requirement for assuring direct sight lines from every seat to the stage is an inclined floor. In many cases, this appears an insuperable difficulty. Auditoriums which must be used as gymnasiums or dance halls require level floors. Often, then, the stage is elevated at a greater height from the floor than usual, in the belief that this device will overcome the lack of an inclined floor. On the contrary, it merely makes the spectator tilt his head at an uncomfortable angle, makes the players appear preternaturally tall, and, as they move toward the back of the stage, conceals the lower part of their bodies. The best height for a stage, whether with inclined or flat auditorium, is three feet, nine inches.

A number of means may be used to provide an inclined floor when performances are to be given in a hall which must be used for many purposes. In Copley Hall, Boston, movable risers were installed, each row of seats being lifted about six inches above the row in front. This scheme has the advantage of being the least costly at the beginning, but this consideration is outweighed by a host of disadvantages. The trestles and platforms occupy a large storage space when not in use, they are not a hundred percent safe, and they emit a squeak with every footstep. Moreover, they increase, to some degree, the fire hazard.

Far more ingenious and needing no storage space is the device employed by Laurence Ewald in building the Little Theatre of the Artists’ Guild, St. Louis. The theatre occupies a wing of the building used ordinarily as an art gallery, and has a level floor. When performances are to be given, the theatre seats are bolted to the floor, and the back half of the floor, which is built in one piece, hinged at the middle of the auditorium, is lifted at the rear by a four-ton hydraulic jack until a pitch of about one inch per foot is obtained.

Mr. Ewald has provided me with the following account of the construction of the floor:

“The movable part of the floor consists of a floor-bearing structure of steel which extends from a hinge half-way between the back of the house and the stage, and parallel with the front of the stage, to the back of the house.“This structure is made up of four I-beams at right angles to the front of the stage, and another I-beam attached to them at right angles at the back end of the house. In the cellar, immediately beneath this cross beam, is placed an ordinary four-ton hydraulic jack, which, when operated, revolves the back floor structure on the hinges at the middle of the house. When the floor has been raised thirty inches, four legs suspended from the four I-beams drop of their own weight into position and support the load, and the jack is removed.”

“The movable part of the floor consists of a floor-bearing structure of steel which extends from a hinge half-way between the back of the house and the stage, and parallel with the front of the stage, to the back of the house.

“This structure is made up of four I-beams at right angles to the front of the stage, and another I-beam attached to them at right angles at the back end of the house. In the cellar, immediately beneath this cross beam, is placed an ordinary four-ton hydraulic jack, which, when operated, revolves the back floor structure on the hinges at the middle of the house. When the floor has been raised thirty inches, four legs suspended from the four I-beams drop of their own weight into position and support the load, and the jack is removed.”

Had it not been for the structure of the room under the auditorium, Mr. Ewald would have constructed theentirefloor on a steel frame, as described above, and balanced it on an axle at the center, where the hinges now are. With suitable space under the front half of the floor, it could have been tipped on its axle, depressing the front and elevating the back, giving an incline to the entire auditorium. Built thus, the floor would require no jack and would be amply supported at three points;or, with the understructure built in the form of a truss, the floor could be made to rock on the apex of the truss. With this arrangement, the front half of the floor would have support along its entire length.

Figure 5—First-floor plan of the Munich Art Theatre. Note that the seats shown here form only a part of the main floor section, as indicated in the plans on the page opposite. Max Littmann, Architect.

Figure 5—First-floor plan of the Munich Art Theatre. Note that the seats shown here form only a part of the main floor section, as indicated in the plans on the page opposite. Max Littmann, Architect.

Figure 6—Above is a section showing the arrangement and structural features of the Munich Art Theatre. Below is the second-floor plan. It should be noted that the seats here are not a balcony but a continuation, on the same floor slope, of the seats shown in the plan on the page opposite.

Figure 6—Above is a section showing the arrangement and structural features of the Munich Art Theatre. Below is the second-floor plan. It should be noted that the seats here are not a balcony but a continuation, on the same floor slope, of the seats shown in the plan on the page opposite.

Another device, proposed for a great municipal auditorium in a western city, will not so readily commend itself for general use, because of the great initial cost and because of the depth of cellarage required under the auditorium. Here the entire floor was to make a semi-revolution. On one side of the revolving plane was a smooth flooring; on the other, seats were bolted. When the building was to be used as a theatre, the side with the seats was turned uppermost and held at the proper pitch. When the hall was used for a ball or for a dog show, or any function needing a level floor, the smooth side was turned up and secured at a horizontal position.

When the floor can be built with a permanent slope, either a simple incline or an incline in the form of a parabolic curve is used. The latter form is preferable.

In many places the fire laws limit the pitch of the floor to one inch per foot. With rows of seats spaced at the legal minimum of thirty-two inches this does not give enough clearance for the people in each row to see over the heads of those in the row in front. For a decent degree of comfort, a little seating capacity should be sacrificed, and the rows spaced thirty-six inches apart.

If possible, there should be a gradient of two inches to the foot, giving a difference of elevation between rows of six inches. If the law prevents the two-inch grade, the same effect can be produced by “staggering” the seats. That is, the seats of alternate rows are set in direct alignment, while the intermediate rows are set half a seat-width to the right or left. Thus spectators will look between the shoulders of those immediately in front of them, and will be able to see over the heads of those in the second row in front, who, by such an arrangement, will be sitting in a direct line with them. There will thus be a six-inch difference between each two rows of seats.

Beyond all these considerations of adequate sight lines, however, there is another requirement far more important, far less well understood, even in the light of any guiding or misguiding tradition, by the average architect. That is the requirement of good acoustics. Until quite recently, this was left wholly to accident. Buildings were erected, and the acoustic properties were tested afterwards. If they chanced to be good, the ownerswere to be congratulated. If they were bad, great sums were spent stringing piano wires, or nets of raw silk, or padding the walls. And then, quite as often as not, the acoustics remained bad.

The late Wallace Sabine, however, demonstrated that it was possible to predict the acoustic properties of a proposed structure with scientific accuracy, and to forestall defects by structural modification. InThe American Architect, Dec. 31, 1913, Professor Sabine described the experiments by which the causes of the acoustic difficulties in the New Theatre (now the Century) in New York were discovered and overcome, and the methods which he employed in helping plan a number of the theatres designed by C. H. Blackhall, perhaps the most experienced theatre architect in the United States. This paper and others by Professor Sabine should be read by any architect who contemplates building an auditorium of any sort. The matter is too vital to be left to a hit-or-miss chance of success.

With an auditorium from every part of which the stage can be seen, from every seat of which all the words of the actors can be heard, there will be little fault to be found. Its comfort, its ventilation, its isolation from street noises, its protection against fire—these are matters which need not be treated here, and which have been written of elsewhere more adequately than I could write of them. As for its decoration, there are no rules to govern that. If the designer has bad taste, there is no help for it, except to avoid him. If he is an artist, let him exercise his art on the interior of the auditorium and forget the sort of thing that has traditionally adorned theatres and wedding cakes.

But, most of all, let him talk with the artist, if there should luckily be one, who is going to work in the particular theatre, and learn from him the sorts of play that are to be done, and the æsthetic of the group that is to present them, if it has one, and so find some clue to the atmosphere the auditorium should evoke. From then on, his task is one of high creation.


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