Previewpdf

STAHISlAUSKI OH OPfRA
Frontispiece: The ballroom in Stanislavski'sresidenceat 6 Leontyevski

Pereulok,which was usedfor both rehearsalsand performances.
STRHISLRUSKI OH OPfHR
CONSTRNTIN STRNISlRUSKI
RHO PRUH RUMVRHTHU
Translatedand fdited by
flizabeth Reynolds Hapqood
~Routledqe~ edge
RTheatre Rrts Book
Hew York and london
In Memory of
ElizabethReynoldsHapgood- February 27, 1974
RobertMercer MacGregor - November22, 1974
For a quarter of a century Elizabeth Hapgood as translatorand

Robert MacGregor as publisher worked together to bring the
thoughtof ConstantinStanislavskito the world beyondhis native
Russia. Theirs was a closeandproductiverelationshipall too rare
in the world of publishing. This book is the last fruit of that
collaboration.
Reprintedin 1998 by
Routledge
29 West 35th Street
New York, NY 10001
Publishedin GreatBritain by
Routledge
11 New FetterLane
London EC4P4EE
Copyright © 1975 by Olga Alexeef Mardoukhaeva

Translation© 1975 by the Executorsof ElizabethReynoldsHapgood
The translatorandpublisherwish to thankMme. O. Rossikhinaandthe pub-

lishing houseof Iskusstvoin Moscow for the use of the photographsfrom
the Stanislavskiproductions.
ISBN 0-87830-552-1
Manufacturedin the United Statesof America
All rights reserved.Except for brief passagesquotedin a newspaper,maga-

zine, radio, or televisionreview, no part of the book may be reproducedin any
form or by any means,electronicor mechanical,including photocopyingand
recording, or by any information storageand retrieval system,without per-
mission in writing from the Publishers.
Library of CongressCatalogNo. 72-87119

Contents
ABOUT THE CO-AUTHOR vii
TRANSLATOR'S FOREWORD ix
NOTE X
1. In the OperaStudio 1
2. EugeneOnegin 46
Scene1: TheArrival ofthe Guests 47
Scene2: TheLetter 77
Scene3: TheMeeting 97
Scene4: TheLarin Ball 108
Scene5: The Duel 127
Scene6: TheGreminBall 134
Scene7: The Final Scene 141
3. TheTsar'sBride 152
Actl 155
Act2 174
Act3 185
Act4 196
4. La Boheme 211
Actl 212
Act2 237
Act3 250
Act4 258
5. A May Night 269

Act 1 272
Act2 283
Act3 291
6. Boris Godunov 304
1: Near the Novo-DevichiyeMonastery 314
2: The Coronationof Boris Godunov 317
3: TheCell in ChudovMonastery 319
4: The Tavern 322
5: The Terem-TheWomen'sQuarters 323
6: Marina's Bedchamber 326
7: The Sceneby the Fountain 328
8: OutsideSt. Basil the Blessed 329
9: TheDumaandthe DeathofBoris 331
7. The Queenof Spades 336
8. The GoldenCockerel 364

About the Co-author
PAVEL IVANOVICH RUMYANTSEV cameto the OperaStudioof the Bolshoi
Theatrein 1920, as a twenty-year-oldyouth who was still a studentat
the Moscow Conservatory.His singing teacherwas the then famous
Director-in-Chiefof the Bolshoi Theatre,A.1. Bartsal.The young bari-
tone attracted Stanislavski'sattention through his artistry, his mu-
sicianship,his fine externalqualities,andhis enquiringattitudetowards
his art. New creative possibilities, of which he had no conception,
openedup before Rumyantsevwhile working with Stanislavski,for, as
he usedto say,in the voice productiondepartmentof the Conservatory
the whole focus of the teachingwasessentiallyon the placementof the
voice, the correct producing of the notes given, without any regard
whatsoeverfor the dramaticform of the work to be broughtinto being.
Rumyantsev,however, did not immediatelybecomea convincedfol-
lower of Stanislavski'sideas.Therewere disputesbetweenteacherand
pupil, which in the end always led to reconciliation.It was, of course,
not easyto follow Stanislavski,who admittedno compromisein art and
who demandedfrom his pupils a mostselflessandtruly heroicdevotion.
In addition it must be rememberedthat the work of the OperaStudio
was carried on under the difficult conditionsof the early post-revolu-
tionary years, conditions of economic ruin and severe deprivation.
Among the papersof Rumyantsevthereis a documentdatedDecember
9, 1920, to the effect that Stanislavskiwas intercedingwith superior
authoritiesto obtain for one of the students,one Rumyantsev,a pair of
galoshesbecause"he is obliged twice a day to walk a very long way to
the Studio and as a result suffersfrom frequentcolds."
Rumyantsev'srangeof interestswasvery wide; he wasneverwilling
to remain within the narrow precinctsof his profession.He took long
journeys and in 1930 he Signed on as a member of the crew of the
ice-breaker"Sedov," which was part of a polar expeditionled by the
famousscientistOtto Schmidt.This breadthof interestmarkedhim off
from most of his fellow singers,who were intent only on "problemsof
sound". It enabledhim to becomenot only a many-facetedand subtle
viii ABOUT THE CO-AUTHOR
artist but a leading director, a memberof the theatreadministration

andfinally a writer on the theatre.
Rumyantsevhimself participatedeither as an actor-singeror di-
rector, or sometimesboth, in the majority of Stanislavski'sopera
productionswhich he describes.He startedout performingcharacter
partsin studentproductions,but in the endhe himself playedthe title
role in EugeneOnegin.
From the theatrepoint of view he wasperhapsthe bestof the many
OneginsI have had the fortune to see on the operastage.In certain
partsin his repertoryRumyantsevwas not able to achieveat oncethe
wide vocal range required by the role, but he always attractedthe
public by the subtletyof his inner designof the character,his finished
phrasing,andthe artistic perfectionof his performanceasa whole.
Rumyantsev'swork as a director beganwhen he took part in the
stagingof Boris Godunovand The Queenof Spades.Later he operated
more and more independently,althoughstill under Stanislavski'seye,
when he put on Carmen and Rigoletto. Following this he worked in
Leningrad, where he stagedCarmen at the Kirov Opera and Ballet
Theatreandtaughtat the LeningradConservatory.From 1945to 1947
Rumyantsevactedasdirectorin the OperaHouseof Sofiain Bulgaria.
Rumyantsevhad the idea of compiling a book about the Opera
Studio when the young group was in its initial stage.From that time
forward Rumyantsevwasneverwithout his padin hand,enteringall of
Stanislavski'sremarks at rehearsalsand in conversationswith the
students.He beganto collect, too, all sortsof documentsrelatingto the
young operatheatrewhich couldbe of use to anyonedoing historical
researchin the future. Gradually he accumulateda massof material.
But the facts and commentsby Stanislavskibrought togetherhere are
not basedjust on Rumyantsev'spersonalrecollections.He also made
extendeduseof notesmadeby his colleaguesin the Studio.
Rumyantsevincorporatedas well many documentsleft by Stanis-
lavski, quotedhis letters, diary entries,manuscripts,articles. Many of
thesedocumentsareprintedherefor the first time.
Rumyantsevdiedsuddenlyin 1962.
Excerptedfrom an article by G. Kristi, leading RussianStanislavski

authority.
Translator's Foreword
THE FORTUNATE PEOPLEwho were privilegedto seeany of the original

productionsof the Moscow Art Theatre,as directedby Stanislavskiand
Nemirovich-Danchenko,were profoundly awareof an all-encompass-
ing harmonyof form, a perfectlyscaledintegrationof componentparts,
characters,moods, emotions.It was as though these plays were per-
formed under the guidanceof a master conductorwith a genius for
timing, balancing,containing, and releasinghuman feelings of every
kind and colour.
Onereasonfor this specialgift of the two men who openeda whole
new era in the history and characterof the theatreis not hard to find.
They wereboth deeplyversedin music andeventuallyeachin his own
way realizedhis ambition to work in that field.
Stanislavskiwas trainedby the greatoperasingerFyodor Kommis-
arjevskyand might have followed that metier with successhad he not
becomea superlativelyexpressiveactor.
Even so he always felt instinctively that music could greatly en-
hance the effectivenessof an actor since the work of a really good
composerprovidessuch a powerful basefrom which dramaticexpres-
sion canderive not only stimulusbut also a senseof direction.
So it wasthat towardsthe endof his activecareerhe embracedwith
enthusiasmthe opportunity offered him of establishinga studio, a
training school for young singersof the Moscow OperaTheatre-the
Bolshoi. Their vocal developmentcontinuedunder their own masters
but to Stanislavskiwas left the absorbingtask of molding them into a
synthesisof singer-actor-musician.They had to be so imbuedwith the
deepestpossiblesignificanceof every note in an operaand feel them-
selvesso entirely motivatedby the musicthat they neverneededto look
at the conductor.
The first completeoperaproducedby StanislavskiwasChaikovski's
EugeneOnegin basedon Pushkin'snovel in verse. It causeda great
sensation,albeit the work on it was done undercircumstancesof great
materialhardshipwith no adequatestagefacilities, scarcelyany heat-
ing of the premisesin which the singers worked, and even lack of
x TRANSLATOR'S FOREWORD
proper food This made the undoubtedbrilliance and impact of the

completedproductionsall the more remarkable.It was a pieceof rare
goodfortune that one of the membersof that first group of singerskept
a detailedaccountof how it was all done. In P.I. Rumyantsev'stran-
scription of Stanislavski'swords one is made to feel that the master
himselfis presentashe propoundsproblemsas they arisein production
after production.
From this verbatim recordmany workers in the field of operaand
dramawill gain startlingly fresh insights,and may well feel themselves
deeplyindebted.
ELIZABETH REYNOLDS HAPGOOD
Note
THE OPERASTUDIO of the BolshoiTheatrewasfoundedtowardsthe end
of 1918,at the instanceof E.K. Malinovskaya,the managerof the State
Theatresin Moscow, and with the support of the Art Council of the
Bolshoi Theatre.The goal asSignedto the Studio was a renaissanceof
opera traditions and the raising of the theatre-culturallevel of the
actor-singers.The direction of the Studio was turned over to Stanis-
lavski. To begin with, the work was carried on with singersfrom the
Bolshoi. Thenin October1919a group of youngsingerswas taken into
the Studio. The Studio put on three performancesin concert form:
Wertherby Massenet(1921), EugeneOneginby Chaikovski(1922), and
The SecretMarriage by Cimarosa(1925).Laterit wasseparated from the
Bolshoiandafter 1924wascalledthe StanislavskiOperaStudio.In 1926
the Studio was convertedinto the OperaStudio-Theatreand in 1928
into the StanislavskiOperaTheatre.
1
In the Opera Studio
IN JANUARY 1921 Stanislavski was offered an old private house, 6

Leontyevski Pereulok, which had escapedthe conflagration when
Moscow was burned in 1812. The facade is not distinguishedin any
special way, but from the courtyard behind it one discoversall the
peculiarities of a nobleman'shome dating back to the days of Gri-
boyedov.Thereis a largetwo-storiedadditionwhich enclosesan oaken
staircaseleading to the secondfloor. It is so old that the lower-floor
entranceto the houseis now below today'sgroundlevel. Thereare also
little balconieswhich havebeenadded,presumablyin the first half of
the 19th century.
This building was not only the last residenceof the great theatre
director but was alsohis working laboratory.About one quarterof the
secondfloor is occupiedby a large hall with columns (the former
ballroom). It was here and in the room adjacentto it that the Opera
Studioof the Bolshoi Theatre,which Stanislavskihadagreedto direct,
"settled". Lessonsand rehearsalswent on without interruption here
from early morningto late evening.The piano was neversilent except
at night. In order to carry out his plan of incorporatinghis systemof
acting into opera, Stanislavskiimmersedhimself completely in the
world of musicandsinging.
All hehadto do to go to rehearsals,which werecarriedout on strict
schedule,was leavehis study,crossa low-ceilingedvestibulewith four
columns,scarcelyhigher than Stanislavskihimself, and enter the hall
whererehearsalswere in progressall day long. Every free momenthe
hadStanislavskiwould useto comeover to seehow the work wasgoing
on.
"Am I interrupting?"he usually said as he glancedcautiouslyinto
the large room. "Pleasego right on!"
But of coursewithin five minuteshe had taken over the rehearsal
himself and was working away with the singers.This was extra in-
structionhe gavethe youngplayersin additionto their regulartraining
in his systemof acting.
"First we must find a commonlanguage,"Stanislavskiwould say,
2 STANISLAVSKI ON OPERA
"then we shall try to combinethe art of living a role with its musical
form and the technique of singing. After that we shall tryout the
validity of our work in performances.But to reachthe point of actual
performancewe must go through a lot of preparatoryimprovisations.
Thesewill be basedon songsand individual scenesfrom operas."
This coherentprogramof work was necessaryto the development
of Stanislavski'smethod of training which was not yet generally ac-
ceptedin our theatres-thatcamemuch later.
The proponentsof "pure operaticsinging", thosedevotedto the old
routines,did not acceptStanislavski'sideas about operaand they did
their bestto prove that if a singerhasa real voice he doesnot needany
training in acting.
The makeup of this Opera Studio group also made Stanislavski
realizethat he would be obligedto beginhis training with the simplest
exercisesand sketches.The group, asidefrom a very few singersfrom
the Bolshoi (K. Antarova,V. Sadovnikov,A. Sadomov),was madeup of
youngstersfrom the Moscow Conservatoryof Music.
In order to keepto the historical truth of the recordit must be said
that certain other well-known singerswere in the Studio, but not for
long. In connectionwith this fact Stanislavskisaid:
"You must rememberthat a strong group is formed not by out-
standingsingers,thesewill alwaysbe lured awayfrom us by otheropera
managements with promisesof big salaries.The core of our Studio will
consistof goodsingersof what we may call averagetalent,but who love
their work; cultivatedsingersandactorswho are weldedtogetherinto
an ensemble,who cannotbe thrown off balanceby the temptationof
becomingstars,or acquiringgreatpersonalfame.
"First we shall go through a courseof preparationfor operawhich
wasnot includedin your conservatorytraining. Until you havefinished
that you will not be fit to set foot on our operaticstage,that is to say
until you havechosenas the goal of your artistic life a kind of singing
which is not only beautiful but also informed with that thought and
inspiration.That kind of singing is without exceptionthe true kind for
all of you."
The theory of the Stanislavskiacting "system", daily exercisesto
music, sketchesactedout for the purposeof giving a basisto the most
varied kinds of body positions, movementsin space,the freeing of
musculartenseness andfinally, the principal andmostinterestingwork,
the singing of arias and lyrical ballads(in the executionof which the
studentssynthesizedall the componentpartsof the "system")-allthis
preparatorywork wasdoneby the studentsbeforetheybeganto put on
any Studio productions.
Stanislavskiin teachingotherswas at the sametime learninghim-
self. He listenedwith closestattention,for example,to the lessonson
IN THE OPERA STUDIO 3
orthophonicsand singing diction given by N.M. Safonov,who had the
gift of brilliant expositionin analyzingwords and the way to achieve
expressiveness throughthem. He knew how to get a singerto feel very
deeply the meaning of a lyrical ballad and how to use a variety of
techniques,including diction andvocal training, to bring that meaning
fully to life-in this he wassupreme.Of course,one could alwayslearn
from sucha great teacheras Safonovand we young singerslistenedto
him avidly during our lessonsand "sweatedit out" with him at the
piano, repeatingdozensof times a phrasethat did not come off right.
Unfortunatelyhe died in 1922.
Concomitantly with our practical work on the "system" Stanis-
lavski gaveus a courseof lecturesdrawnfrom what waslater to become
An Actor Preparesand Building a Character. At that time Stanislavski
was in the processof formulating thosebooks.
Our studieslasteda long time, nearly five years(1921-1926),and
continuedside by side with the readying of productions.They were
carriedon by Stanislavskiandhis assistants.Later on, especiallyby the
new young members,the Studiowas called the "School on the Move."
In the early part of the existenceof the OperaStudio Stanislavski
was greatly assistedby his sister Zindaida Sokolova and his brother
Vladimir Alexeyev, who undertookall the preparatorytraining of the
youngsingers.
Vladimir Alexeyev was a good musician.He had a refined senseof
the rhythmic side of the acting of operawhich occupiessuch an im-
portantplaceamongall the othercomponentsof a performerin opera.
Stanislavskihimself placed the greatestSignificance on rhythm:
"No, you havenot yet establishedthe rhythm of this part of your role.
You havenot got it undercontrol, you do not savourit. Ask the advice
of my brother,"he usedto say.
Zinaida Sokolovahelpedthe studentsto createthe inner scoreof a
part; shehad the gift of finding the subtlestshadingsfor that inner life.
The whole patternof "Tatiana'sLetter" scenewas worked out by her
with N.G. Lezina; it was on the whole approvedby Stanislavskiand
includedin the productionof EugeneOnegin.
The man who taught the Stanislavski"system" of acting was N.V.
Demidov. He was well informed concerningthe psychologicalfoun-
dationsof Stanislavski'swork andevenhelpedhim in the preparationof
material for his books, a fact which the author registeredwith grati-
tude.
Onehalf of eachday wasdevotedto classactivitiesandthe otherto

the preparationof performances.
The first threescenesof EugeneOnegin: "The Arrival of the Guests
at the Larins'," "Tatiana'sLetter," and "The Meeting," were the basis

for Stanislavski'spracticalwork on the production.
Here he put two main objectivesbefore the young actor-singers.
The first was to achieveexpressive,incisive diction, thanks to which
they could convey clearly and colourfully the words they sang."Fifty
percentof our successdependson diction. Not a single word must fail
to reachthe audience."That wasthe "leitmotiv" of Stanislavski'swork
with singers.
The secondobjectivewas the completefreeing of their bodiesfrom
all involuntary tensionsand pressures,for the purposeof achieving
easy, simple handling of themselvesonstage.It was to achieve this
ability to free their bodiesfrom excessivetenseness,especiallyin the
arms, wrists and fingers, that daily exerciseswere devoted.They were
all done to music in order to train the singersin making every move-
ment consonantwith musicalrhythms.
In the processof projecting his voice a singer is obliged to tense
certainmuscles(of the diaphragm,the intercostalmuscles,the larynx);
that is to saytheseare working contractionswhich are necessaryto the
actual singing. It was the principal aim of a whole seriesof exercises
prescribedby Stanislavskito make a distinction betweenthe working
contractionsandsuperfluoustensions,thusleavingall the othermuscles
completely free. He was always on the watch for those unnecessary
tensionsin the body, the face, the arms, the legs of a Singer while
performing.When an artist is performingin accordancewith his inner
feelings he must not be impededin his movementsby muscularcon-
tractions.The singer'swhole attentionmust be centeredon his action.
"Actors onstageare often fearful that the public will be bored if
thereis not enoughgesturing,andthereforethey go througha whole lot
of motions," Stanislavskiusedto say. "But the end result is randomand
trashy.On a large stage,especially,restraintis aboveall necessaryand
this can only be achievedif one has completecontrol over all of one's
muscles."
"Thoughts are embodiedin acts," Stanislavskitaught us, "and a
man's actions in turn affect his mind. His mind affects his body and
again his body, or its condition, has its reflex action on his mind and
producesthis or that condition. You must learn how to rest your body,
free your musclesand, at the sametime, your psyche."
Exercisesfor the purposeof relaxingmusclesfrom ordinarytensions
in orderto acquireplasticity of movement-easy walking, the ability to
governthe useof one'sarmsandhands-wereset down by Stanislavski
asmustsfor a singer-actorof his school.
Theseexerciseswere conductedin a certain order: The students
stoodin a semicircleand, while music was played, went through var-
ious forms of gymnastics.Stanislavskitold the musicianin charge,one
"What we needis eight quarter notesfor the raising of the arms,
elbows,handsand fingers; also eight quarternotesfor their relaxation
andreturn to position.We want your help in harnessingthe energyand
then in releasingand relaxing it.
"First relax the musclesof the handsso that they are completely
free and hang from the wrists as inertly as strings. Swing them back-
wardsand forwards, separatelyand together,"he said. "After that the
fingers mustbe so relaxedthat they danglefrom their joints. Then raise
your arm to your shoulder,free that from all tension,and then let your
elbow danglefrom its joint. Shakethe lower part of your forearm from
your elbow down lightly andfreely."
To free the musclesof the legs it is necessaryto standon one leg,
relax the foot of the raised leg, make it inert, watching mentally the
lack of feeling in the toes. Then make rotary movementswith the free
foot. Stanislavskihimself was so accustomedto these exercisesthat
while he was seated,for instanceat a rehearsal,he would twist his free
foot and test its flexibility. Theseexercisesenabledhim to havea light,
mobile way of walking, for which he was famousup to the time he was
very old. He wasfond of repeatingthat"a flexible foot and toesare the
basisof lightnessof walking."
While holding one's leg off the ground, relax the tension of the
whole shankand gently rotate the knee joint. Then raisethe leg, bend
the knee,relax the whole, andslowly let the leg down.
In relaxing musculartensionsin the neck, one throws one's head
forward andthenby movementof the body causesit to roll from side to
side. Then, seatedon a chair and haVing relaxedthe neck muscles,one
throws one's head backwardsand lets it roll around at will. While
executingthis exerciseone imaginesoneselfin a stateof sleep.
To relax the musclesof the shouldersand chest,the torso shouldbe
slightly inclined forward, with arms hanging inertly, and the waist
musclesquite free.
After theseexercisesonecould graduallyrelax all the musclesof the
body and drop to the groundlike a sheafof wheat.
"Theseexercises,"saidStanislavski,"developa senseof tranquility,
of self-control and power, as well as the clear understandingof one's
muscularstructure."
There were, of course,somesingerswho deep down in their vocal
beingconsideredthat the exercisesof the relaxing of musculartensions
were quite superfluous,that they bore no relation to singing. "For
singingmannequinssuchexercisesare indeedsuperfluous,"said Stanis-
lavski, "but for living humanbeings,if they wish to remainsuchon the
stage,they are imperative."
Onemust note that it was impossibleto imagineall of Stanislavski's
exercisesasfun, asfascinatingthingsto do for the participants.At times
sakeof art. Yet even to this dull monotonyStanislavskimaintainedan

attitudeof enthusiasmandenjoymentas greatas whenhe was carrying
on a rehearsal.And he exactedthe same kind of joy in work from
everyoneelse.
Daily training in how to walk with gracefulfluidity was obligatory
beforethe beginningof any rehearsal;the exerciseswere necessaryas a
meansof softeningandwarmingup the body, the physicalapparatusof
an actor. "The singer-actorneedsthem fully as much as he does his
daily vocalizationexercises,"Stanislavskiwould say.
The exercisesin smoothwalking werebegunto very slow music. In
the courseof two measuresin very slow time (adagio) only onestepwas
madeso that the weight of thebody imperceptiblyandsmoothlypassed
from one leg to the other without the slightesthitch. The sole of the
student'sfoot and the movementof the toes playeda greatpart in this
beginningexercise.
"Your feet must be very soft springsin order to carry the weight of
your body smoothly. Rememberthe exampleof a horse,of the highly
trainedOrlov breedof trotter-youcan put a glassof water on his back
and it will never spill. Try to achieve that kind of smooth, gliding,
airborneway of walking, so that you too would not spill a glassof water
carriedon your head,"remarkedStanislavski.
Graduallythe tempoof our walking was increased;a stepwas taken
to a half measure,then a quarter, finally an eighth-yet even at the
greatestspeedthe smoothnessof movementhadto be maintained,even
when we reachedthe point of almostrunning. "Without a well-devel-
opedcapacityto walk an actor might just as well haveno armseither,"
said Stanislavski.
Similar exercisesfor arms and handswere conductedin much the
sameway as is donein ballet training, exceptthat the movementsmade
had to be basedon someinner purpose.Stanislavskidid not recognize
any beautyin gestureor pose for its own sake; he always insistedon
someactionbehindit, somereasonfor a given poseor gesturebasedon
imagination.
"Make out of every gesturesome act, and in generalforget about
mere gestureswhen you are practicing. Action is all that counts, a
gestureall by itself is nothingbut nonsense."
A great deal of significancewas attributedto dancingand all the
actor-singerswere obliged to be able to dance: mazurkas,waltzes,
polonaises,schottisches-wehad to be able to dancethem all. All the
dancesin EugeneOnegin were performedby the whole cast: singers,
chorus,soloists.
Fencingwasusedas a necessarypart of physicaltraining to prepare
an actorfor the executionof all sortsof actionson the stage.Stanislavski
valuedfencing especiallybecauseduelingwith rapiersobligesan actor
to be able to combinethe working tensionsof his legs and whole body
with an extremelyflexible lightnessin the useof his arms,especiallyhis
hands, and this can be accomplishedonly by sharp attention to the
conditionof his entirephysicalapparatus.
But the main point aboutfencing was,for Stanislavski,the fact that
eachduel was the bestpossibletraining for concentrationof willpower
andattention,for the developmentof an inner interrelationshipwith a
partner,for the alwaysnecessarystudy of one'sopponent.
In all our exercisesStanislavskiinsisted on inner justification for
whateverwe were doing at a given moment. This applied as well to
vocaliZing as to diction, to the logic of speechas to physicalexercises
-fluid movements,dancing, fencing. He always determinedthat we
prepare"given circumstances",someimaginativeideathat we were to
carry out during our work.
He neveralloweda single,evenmostelementary,technicalexercise
to be done"in general",just for the purposeof going througha form.
"I do not understandjust what you are doing now," he would say,
while watchingour handexercises."If you aretrying to makebeautiful
movementsin spaceby using your softly curvaceousarms while your
imaginationsarefast asleepandyou do not evenknow it, thenwhat you
are indulging in is empty form. Try to fill it up with somethingout of
your imagination. Give each exercisesome purposeof its own, and
combineeverythingyou do with feelings with regardto the action.
"I do not at all understandfor what reasonyou are doing this
exercise,why one arm is above your head and the other is wound
aroundyour body-if thereis nothingelseto it, it's just 'ballet'." Ballet
in quotationmarkswas what he called "beautiful" poseswhich lacked
all inner meaning, and he often said the word "ballet" in a rather
venomoustone.
In this way the Stanislavski"system" of acting was gradually in-
troducedinto all the preliminarytraining of the singers.It beganto be
a greathelp to us much soonerthan we expected,becausewe mistak-
enly thought that all the exercisesfor the relaxation of musclesand
physical freedom of movement,taken just by themselves,were some-
thing quite different from lessonsin the "system".
"All of your exercises,even those which may seemthe most me-
chanical,must be relatedto the 'system';that is to say they must have
some creative relationship to what you are doing," said Stanislavski
during one of our lessonsin learninghow to walk smoothly.
There is a deep cleavage here from the method of training
artists in placeswhere the Stanislavski"system" is given as a special
coursenot relatedto any of the otherdisciplines.
Everyoneknows, after the publicationof My Life in Art, An Actor
Prepares,and Building a Character,how much hard work was put into
the developmentof Stanislavski'sacting technique,and what high

standardsand demandshe requiredof himself in his lifelong search.It
was thesestrict standardsthat Stanislavskiplacedat the baseof the
daily work he did with his studentsin his Opera Studio. Hence his
motto: Art demandssacrifices.
I recall oncethe expressionof dismay and angeron his face as his
studentssaid to him: "We are not going to rehearsetomorrow, it's a
holiday."
"What kind of artists are you if you work only on week days and
thenreston holidays?What areyou taking a restfrom? Creativeness? A
true artistworks everysingleday, everyhour of his existence,all his life,
becausehe cannotlive without creativeness."
Self-indulgence,let-down, compromisewith work-all thesewere
repugnantto Stanislavski.He felt it his duty to instill in all his students
the sameattitudetowardstheir work, the sameartistic tasteandlove of
work that he exactedfrom himself.
He askedeachstudentin detail why he had come to the Studio,
what he expectedto learn there, what relationshiphe saw between
singing and acting, what it was he had been dissatisfiedwith in his
earlier training. Any stereotypeanswersuch as "I would just like to
work here" did not satiSfyhim at all; eventhe youngest,shyestgirl was
forced to tell him what her attitudewas towardsart becausehe looked
upon everyapplicantas a potentialartist.
He searchedkeenlyinto the soul of everyuntutored,inexperienced
studentto seeif he could discoverevena grain of artistry which could
be nursedalong,becauseit wasessentialif the voice andthe suppleness
of the body were to develop.This attitude on Stanislavski'spart pro-
duceda genuinelycreativeatmospherein the Studio.It was part of the
training of everystudentactor-singer.
Thefirst lessonshe gaveto the singersinvolvedvery simplephYSical
actions:set a chair in a given place,hide a letter, sit for three minutes
facing the public-in other words the kind of exercisescommonlyused
in training actorsin the "system".
"What is this 'system'?"Stanislavskiwould ask the singersduring
their first lesson-rehearsal.
"Therearethose,you know, who think it can
be used to createtalent. But this is not so! The 'system'is a sort of
guidebookto help the soul becomemorecreative.It is addressedto the
soulso that it will acceptwhat the authorfeels at a given momentin the
workshe hascreated.Whenthe authorandthe actorcoalescein a part,
a creativemiraclehasbeenperformed.The 'system'helpsthe actor to
expresswhat the authorwishedto say.
"It also helpsthe actorto develophis phYSical apparatusso that he
can reproducein artistic form what his soul hascreated.Then there is
anotherhighly significant point to be added:The 'system'is a form of
sciencewhich an actor usually disregardsbecausehe pins his hope on
inspiration from 'on high', thinking that it will be provided when
needed.
"Very good," he addedironically, "anyonewho hasneveractedon
the stageis welcometo try this out."
Therewas an awkwardsilencefor a bit while Stanislavskicarefully
looked over all the studentssitting aroundhim as if he were studying
them. Finally a young womansingerrosefrom her chair:
"What shouldI do?"
"You can take your chair up onto the stageand placeit facing us."
Of coursethe youngwomanrealizedthat just to moveher chair was
not enoughand that shehad to carry out someobjective.Shebeganby
looking around, then set the chair in a certain place, walked two or
threestepsawayfrom it, lookedaroundagain,then apparentlyran out
of ideasand looked fixedly at Stanislavskiwho smiledand asked:
"Well, haveyou finished your scene?Can we closethe curtain?"
"I don't know what to do next."
"What you did do, I don't understandanyway," said Stanislavski.
"I boughta new chair."
"That I did not grasp.In fact I ratherthoughtyou wantedto get rid
of the one you had. In any case,go aheadand do something,anything
you like."
Theyoungstudentsatdown on her chair, thoughtfor a few minutes,
took a mirror out of her handbag,beganto put on some lipstick and
smooth her hair. Then she did a little work on her eyebrows and
eyelashes.Everythingshe did was perfectly natural and right. She was
doing with assurancethings shewas accustomedto doing every day.
"All right. Now what was your purposein what you were doing?"
askedStanislavskiafter she had finished her makeupand was looking
ratherguiltily at him.
"I am trying to carry out my objectivecorrectly."
"Very well, it's a good thing to havean objective,you cannotcome
out onto the stageto do something'in general'.On the stagewe must
havelife but not only that, it mustbe the life of your imaginationwhich
you makereal for us. An actorhimself must createthat life, produceit
throughhis fantasy.To be an actoryou must in the first instancepossess
a developed,rich senseof fantasy. Your creativenesswill begin only
when you have in mind the words 'if it were so'. Without that 'Magic
If, without fantasy, there can be no creativeness,no matterhow well
you executesimple physicalactionson the stage.
"Take thesesamesimple physical actionsand set them in various
'given circumstances'.Takewhat you just did with the makeupon your
face and play it twenty different ways and let eachlittle sketchbe put
into different 'given circumstances'.Use your imaginationto think up
many little plays; the action will be the samethroughoutbut its pur-
posein eachcasewill be different. Never repeatan exercisewithout a
fresh objective.
"In all your beginning exercisesyou mustbe developingyour imag-
ination. Without that faculty an actor can do nothing on the stage.
"As a meansof extendingyour imaginativepowersyou will haveto
invent all sorts of 'given circumstances'.Using the magic formula 'if
things were so and so', surroundyourself with imaginary objects and
always answer for yourself the questions: 'Where, when, for what
reasonor purposeis this?' When you createan imaginativelife for a
part, when you know all the facts concernedwith it and you enjoy
this-thenit becomesa reality."
To this the young womananswered:
"But beforeI can do all that I must first of all know how to present
things truly, to act."
"No. First of all you mustcreatethe circumstances suggestedby the
'Magic If'. For instance:supposeyou are a bride and are aboutto go to
churchto be married.If thatweresohow would you look at your facein
the mirror, how would you makeup your eyes,arrangeyour hair andso
forth? Or if you were a sixteen-year-oldgirl starting off to a ball, how
would you do all thesesamethings?
"Creativenessis of greatinterest,so is an actor'simagination.It is at
the very heartof our work. You did everythingcorrectlybut therewas
no art in it. So that is the first thing you must learn."
Then turning to another student Stanislavskisaid to him: "You
chosethe objective of coming home tired from your work and said to
yourself 'I'll have sometea!' That is all truthful and lifelike, but lacks
interest.It cannotset the actor on fire. The truth he portraysmust be
artistic."
To which the youngman replied:
"But it is hard to act without words. Now if I had any lines to say I
would show more feeling."
"No," said Stanislavski,"words are not an end in themselves.We
shall first learn to move about, to act. Any routine actor can recite his
role, that'snot difficult to learn. He canhaveasmanycliche intonations
as he will have automatic muscularreactions.But what we have to
learn is how to move, how to sing or danceor mime, whetherwe use
actualwords or not.
"There are actorswho are mortally afraid of making mistakes.And
this is always apparenton their faces becausethey go through their
rolesextraordinarilycautiously.A timid actorneedsonly to makea tiny
slip and he is already lost. He must develop the self-control to be
unafraidof making a slip into falseness,then he can instantly return to
the path of truth."
"Take as the subject for your imagination the most insignificant
thing, for instancea button on your coat sleeve.You will be able, by
giving it your sharpattentionandconcentration,to oblige it to stir your
imaginationandkeepit intensefor as long as you choose.
"An actoron the stagedoesnot believein the objectitself but in his
relationshipto it. Thereforeno matter what prop you are handling I
shall believein its reality on the stageif you establishthe right attitude
towardsit and are sincere."
Stanislavski'stalk wasbrokenoff at this point andthe studentswent
onto the stage,that is to say into the centre of the hall, to executea
seriesof improvisations.In all thesethe objectiveswith which Stanis-
lavski hadbegunhis lessonwere carriedout.
After her discussionwith Stanislavskithe young actresswho had
improvisedon the stagewith her chair realizedthat it was not enough
just to believe in your physical actions-youhad to "wrap" them in
imaginative"given circumstances."Shebeganagain,andthe onlookers
then slowly realizedthat shehad undertakena journeyby ship. By the
frightenedlook in her eyesit would not be difficult to surmisethat the
ship was beginningto roll. She tried to standup and walk along the
deck, but suddenlyshefelt therewassomethingfalse aboutall this and
that the onlookers were ironically whispering to each other, so she
abandonedthe sketch. Stanislavski who was watching her with an
interestedsmile exclaimedwith disappointment:
"Oh, why did you stop?It was interestingto me and the rest of us to
watch you get back on the right track, but you were too weak-willed.
You lost your headout of fear of beingoverly criticized, a feeling that is
still inside you. You wantedto do everythingwell but you did only the
first part right. Then that super-criticinside you broughtout your false
self-admiration.The kind of self-criticism you need is the kind that
ferrets out what is untrue in order to let you createwhat is true. It
searchesout what is badbut for the purposeof correctingit, not merely
in order to tear you down. First and foremost you must see and feel
what is true andmakethat your point of departure.The capacityto see
what is good, what is beautiful, is a necessarypart of an actor. That is
the yardstickyou must apply to yourself.
"Self-criticism is necessarytoo but it shouldbe properly directed.
Rememberfor the future that therewill alwaysbe somethings that are
poor in your actingand you must reconcileyourself to this. Art is not a
fixed ideal. Art is constantlyon the move. Pushingyourselfoff from the
letter 'A' you reachthe letter 'B' then 'c' andso it goeson forever. The
ideal of perfectionis infinite. As soon as an actor saysto himself: 'I am
"ideal" " he is done for, he has left the path of art. Neverthelessin
criticizing yourselfandothers,while you may seewhat is false andbad
you must also know how to seewhat is good."
The bestsketcheswhich Stanislavskiproposedwere the onesdone

to the accompanimentof music, so that the students could listen to the
rhythm and the characterof the music and give their improvisationsa
definite contentand exact form as suggestedby the music. The musi-
cian who improvisedthe music for the sketchesknew, of course,the
contentof the plot andhow to developthe courseof action;he wasalso
ableto introducemeaninginto what wasbeingdone,togetherwith the
most variednuances,by his use of both rhythm and musicalform. The
actor then had to be delicatelysensitiveto thesemusicalhints and he
also had the job of introducing his own improvisations, moving in
faithful conjunctionwith what he was hearing.Suchexercisesrequire
very keen responseon the part of an actor to the music being
played-musicwhich he does not know in advance,and to which he
mustwholly subjecthimself, thus developingsharpattentionas well as
musicalsensitiveness.Suchmusicalexercisesalso must be playedby a
skilled improvisor with a wide rangeof fantasy.An ordinary musician
would only ruin the delicatetextureof this kind of work.
"From the instantthe musicbeginSyou arecompletelyin its power.
Your nerves,blood, heartbeatmust all be in accordwith the rhythm
proposedby this music. Yet to seize this rhythm, live with it, let it
permeateyour whole being, is no easymatter. One must proceedby
degrees.The simplestthing is to beatthe measures,the stresses.That is
the easiestto accomplish,yet this affects only, as you might say, the
extremities,the peripheryof your body.
"It is not this rhythm which will determinethe essentialsof the
compositionplayedor your life as part of it. I am speakinghereof the
inner rhythm which makesyou act differently, breathedifferently. It is
the thing that carriesaway your emotions,arousesthem, giving them
both keennessandpower.
"This music gives the tone of your feelings. These feelings, ,if
truthfully evoked,acquirepower, resonance,so to say. So listen most
carefullyto the music.You haveto hearin it the reasonfor what you are
doing and how you are to do it, so that your every imperceptibly
unobtrusivemovementwill be in harmonywith the music.This should
not be obvious; all that the eye seesis harmonyin keepingwith the
soundsmadeby the orchestraandyour own voice. It is the achievingof
this particularkind of harmony,embodiedin you on the stage,that is
the whole basicideaof opera."
The principal objectivewhich Stanislavskiset for his youngsingers
wasa union of their musical,vocal techniqueandof living their partsin
the flesh. This latter requireda subtlesenseof musicalrhythm in order
to produce fluent physical movement of the actor's entire phYSical
makeup.
Stanislavskialsodemandedof his singersthe greatestpossiblevocal
expressiveness, and to developthis he usedmany romanticballads.
The successfulexecutionof theseballadspresupposes a wide vari-
ety of vocal shadingsto convey the composer'sideas; thereforeStan-
islavski consideredthis work as a necessarypreparatorystep in the
direction of preparinga role. It was not by chancethat the first public
appearanceof the Opera Studio was in a concert consisting of "ro-
mances"by Rimski-Korsakov.
The rehearsalsprecedingthis concert formed a great part of the
teachingStanislavskihimself gave.I recall a few of them.
I seea young woman singerleaning lightly on the lid of a concert
grandpiano, standingin front of Stanislavski.Sheis singing a romance
by Rimski-Korsakovcalled"Serene,sereneis the sky blue sea".Shehad
learnedthis balladearlierwhenshewasstill in the Conservatory.Every
shading indicated on the music was absolutely preserved,and the
ballad was sung in accordancewith all the customsand rules of the
music-hall singersof those times-that is to say, her eyes were fixed
abovethe headsof the audienceas sheseemedto seesomethingimag-
inary but familiar far off in the distance.The musclesof her face were
tenselyfixed in a contrived smile (the usual "mask" for all singersin
thosedays)which was intendedto conveyan impressionof lightness,a
completelack of any effort in singingthe high, lilting notesof the song.
The singerstandsin the curve of the instrument,leaningher right
handlightly on the polishedblack surfacewhile her other small hand
hangsfreely at her side. She standsquietly, putting the weight of her
body on one foot. We were all quite aware, from our work with
Stanislavski'ssister Zinai'da SergeyevnaSokolova and with him, that
pressingone's two hands together over one's heart, as if to express
powerful emotions,was out, and that one shouldnot standon the stage
firmly on both feet as if at attention(note classicstatuesin this regard),
that theremust not be the slightesttenseness in one'sneck (God forbid
that one should raise one'sshoulderswhile singing). Besides,we were
told, if one'selbowsor wrists aretensehe is practicallynailed downand
that'sthe endof his creativepowers.This youngsinger'sbrow is serene,
and that is importanttoo becauseit meansshehasnot turnedto stone.
The very young singer standsso relaxed, so naturally in front of
Stanislavskiasshefinisheshersong.Slowly shechangesandlooks at him
with a little embarrassment as he, still smiling, watchesher as steadily
as he did while she was singing; he seemsto be expectingsomething
more. Then, crossinghis kneesand coughingslightly, he rubs the back
of his right handwith one of the fingers of his left in a gesturewe knew
was preparatoryto expressinghimself.
"Well, well, that was very nice. I see before me a pretty young
woman,whosecarriageis easy,indeedslightly flirtatious. Her voice is
resonant,well polished, but what she was singing about or why she
cameover to the piano ... quite escapesme. Did she wish to show us
her looks? Here I must speak quite austerelyand even resentfully,
becauseI am going to speakthe whole truth. The reasonfor this is that
if you do not, at the very outsetof your pursuitof art, devoteyourselfto
that art with your wholebeingyou will just roll downhill alongthe road
to platitudinous,routine ham singing, and you are not likely ever to
return to that art'sfundamentaltruth.
"I havedigresseda bit but this is an essentialfactor in the life of an
actress,unlessall shewantsto be is a commercialperformer."
This term "commercialperformer" was one Stanislavskiusedfre-
quently when he wishedto expresshis highestdegreeof disdainfor an
actresswho did not comprehendher greatobligation to her art.
"Explain to me what you wished to convey by this ballad, what
thought impelled you to choosethis particular song, to sing it, what
therewas in it that attractedyou?"
The young singer did not reply with much clarity; she liked the
music very much althoughtherewere too few words and the songwas
too short; she did not have time to expressthe feelings which are
inherentin it.
"First searchout the logic of the thoughts,that pavesthe way for
the emotions.First of all you must have a clear comprehension.Read
the verses,and say what the principal factor in them was that moved
Maikov and Rimski-Korsakov, and tell us what you understandin
them."
The youngsingerreadthe lines:
Serenewould be the azuresea

If undisturbedby the rising storm
That ragesand dashesbillowing waves
Upon the beach.
Serenewithin my breastwould be
My heartif suddenly
Your imagedid not rise and rush
Upon it with more force and speed
Than any storm.
Then added:
"I wish to conveythat I love him."
"Whom?" asksStanislavski."Do you seehim? Know him? Or are
you talking in generalterms?"
"No, I haven'tthoughtaboutthis yet."
"Then that implies a kind of 'generalized'love, a sort of rubber-
stamplove, nothingbut a sweetsmile! This meansyour imaginationhas
not yet beenput to work, you have not so much as glimpsedanything
behindthe words beyondthe music.
"Now let us proceedpoint by point. What thoughthas the author
implantedin your mind?The blue seawould be sereneif therewere no
storm which would dash waves onto the shore. Thus all would be
serenein my soul if your image did not rage through it like a storm.
Now look at this idea from every angle, developit, embroiderit. Ask
yourselfwhy you compareyour soul to a sea.Whendoesthis happenin
one'slife? Do you wish that this sea, that is to say your soul, should
alwaysbe tranquil or, on the contrary,do you long for a storm?To this
end searchthrough the poem and decide which words are more im-
portantandwhich are lessso."
"I think the important words are 'at peace my soul would be
within', and'your image'."
"Then ask yourself if you would rather not have his image pass
beforeyou, meaningthat you would rathernot rememberhim."
"No, of coursethat cannotbe so sinceI love him. He is alwaysin my
thoughts."
"Then it is a good thing that your breast throbs stormily, not
serenely,or do you regretyour lost peace?"
"That I still do not know."
"Listen to the music. It will reveal what lies behind the text, your
innermostthoughts."
So they listen to the song;the pianist playsbut shedoesnot sing; the
line of the vocal scoreis reproduced.
"The music which accompanieshis image rageslike a storm, but
with greatjoy and illumination," saysthe singer.
"That meansthen," says Stanislavski,"you take joy from this dis-
turbing element and, further, you are not satisfied by your state of
tranquility. Yet when you sang,you soundedas though you regretted
this intrusion on your peaceof mind. Now it seemsthat you will be
obliged to convey your joy in having that peaceoverwhelmedby a
strongwind like the sea,by his image which is swifter than a passing
storm. Notehow well the poetandthe composerhavecoalescedhereto
produceone single emotion.
"Maikov hassome'r's' in nearlyevery phraseand Rimski-Korsakov
risesto a culminatingpoint on the word 'swifter'. Continueto listen to
the music: that is the centreof your feelingsevenafter you haveceased
to sing. It is the same old theme of love assailedby storms. Love
overwhelmsone like a suddenthunderstorm.
"Now we haveclearedup a few points. Repeatthe songand try to
be very clear in acting in accordancewith eachword. Make a pattern
with the words: the seais sereneuntil the storm blows up; that is how
my soul would be, at rest, if it were not for your image,for my memory
of you. But do not attemptto draw on your emotions."
The young woman sings the ballad again and is inwardly quite
concentrated,as though she were listening to something going on

inside herself.Stanislavskiwatchesher eyesvery closely.
"There," he says,"that is the first step.You still must pay attention
to the words. They still lack flavour. 'If no storm.. .' is too slurred.You
must keep practicing,repeatingit dozensof times, and the samewith
the next line aboutthe dashingwaves.Theseare intricatecombinations
of sounds,so you must go over and over them until they are crystal
clear, so that all the soundscome out of their own accord,effortlessly.
Remembertoo that all labial soundsmustbe distilled with specialcare,
by constantrepetition.
"Now listen carefully: you have just given me a rather clear state-
ment about how serenethe seawould be if there were no stormsand
how at peaceyour soul would be if he did not appear.But this is still not
art. It was producedwith well polishedcraftsmanship.It makesa faint
impression:musical form and a mUSically-trainedvoice can createa
facsimile of art, they can affect the hearerand, for a momentor two,
they may stir his imagination.Most singersare satisfiedto do no more
than that becausethey considerthat is all that is called for. They have
reproducedthe form of a compositionin which the rhythmic sequence
and combinationof soundswill, of course,give a glimpse,a suggestion
to the hearersof the composer'sintent. I can catch the drift of his
meaningand vaguelysensewhat he wishesto say.
"But to revealcompletelyto me, the hearer,what elseis underlying
here,the things I cannotperhapsseizein this mostbrief romance-that
is what an artist must do for me.
"To achievethis your singing must be transformedby a musical
statementinto a confessionmade by your heart. You must take the
place for me of both the poet and the composer,you must infuse into
me your own creativeemotions,your stateof being. All the elementsof
your inner life must be set to work. Then you will bring to life the
author'sidea,his theme.Whereis the key to this? It lies in what we call
the 'Magic If and one's'Objectof Attention'.
"Let us now follow the logic of the idea, putting ourselvesinto the
circumstancesof the moment-withfantasyfor a sail and thoughtfor a
rudder.You will enterinto a life shapedfor you by your own imagina-
tion. After this, feelings will begin to flow of their own accord. Your
thought will be profound, your fantasy rich, your feelings broad. A
shallow idea, a poor imaginationwill not give rise to any feelings. In
this last caseyour result will be ordinary, it will not be a pieceof art.
"Now answerthesequestionsput to yourself: Who is he?And who
are you? Why are you gazing at the sea?Where does this happen?
When?The clearerall thesecircumstancesare the richer will be your
imaginationconcerningthemand,consequently,your way of rendering
this songwill be altered,will take on a fresh aspect.
"Next, answeryour questionas to who 'he' is, this image, flashing
storm-like throughyour soul. You neednot tell me aboutthis. He may
remainyour secret,the secretof the artist, but it is all important-thatall
this should be abundantlyclear to you yourself, then if you wish you
may expressall the details.
"If you are a Greek woman, Aspasia for instance, the sea is a
familiar, an intimate,elementof your life. But if you arefrom the North
and are looking at the seafor the first time, your attitude towardsit in
this songwould be entirely different. If you are a modernwoman and
havejust come to a seasideresort, therewould be a third variant. The
point is to arouseyour imagination,to feed your fantasy. This is all a
part of the 'Magic If.
"The secondpart is the 'Object of your Attention' towardswhich
your inner vision is trained. What do you seewhen you sing about the
seaand abouthim?"
"First I envisionthe kind of seaI saw last summer...."
"You haveeveryright to do so. All that is necessaryis that the image
be clearly limited and definitely defined.Sing it again."
The singerbeginsbut is interruptedby Stanislavski.
"No. You did not concentrateyourself. Every secondmustbe of the
greatestvalue to you. There is no time to gatheryourself. Concentra-
tion must be instantaneous.From the very first note of the musical
introductionyou are all attention; this enablesyou to be carriedaway
to the sea."
After listeningoncemore to the song,which now seemedsomehow
extendedin length and breadth, and to have acquired a special ex-
pression,Stanislavskilets the young singergo with the words:
"Now go to work, dig down deeperinto the song, enhancethe
highlights and the shadowsthe way paintersdo. You still have a lot of
problems: the personon whom your attentionis fixed, the words, the
manyimagesshowereddown on you by your fantasyderivingfrom your
own life experienceandyour reading.But forget all that onceyou begin
to sing. Stick closeto the focal point of your concentratedattentionon
which your mind vision is rivetedandleaveall the restto be workedout
by your subconscious.Throw all the bits of food into your pot andwhen
the time comesit will of itself be ready-thatis, if you will be logical in
your thoughtsand actions."
Then turning to the rest of us he says:
"I am very gladto listen to theseballadsthat arelittle known, rarely
sung.Our singer,Galya, is right to chooseone of them. It is easierthen
to find one'sown path and avoid the influence of having heardperfor-
mancesby other singers. Singers usually imitate the mannerismsof
great performersand for that all they need is to have a good aural
memory.I know aboutthis from my own experience.
"Out of eight lines of verseyou haveto constructa whole dramatic

story. As yet, you areunableto copewith this, but charm,youth, a fresh
voice, a forthright mannerwill go far to createthe illusion that you
havealmostdoneso. All theseare qualitieswith which you are already
endowed.What is left for you to do is the hardtaskof polishingto a high
brilliance your own artistic gifts and learning how to adapt them to
your work.
"For your first exercisesit is importantto choosea goodtext. This is
of greathelp to a young singer. From this point of view Rimski-Korsa-
kov will provide you with tasteandfine discrimination.Chaikovski,on
the other hand, often choosesweakerverse.Take for examplehis 'He
lovedme so... .' The music,to be sure,makesup for the triviality of the
poem, yet if you listen carefully you will senseall its thinness,so it
requiresmoreeffort on the part of a singerto makesomethingout of the
verseandendowit with someworthwhile meaning."
Stanislavski'ssister, Zinai'da, gave the preparatorytraining to the

young singers, breaking ground as it were, getting songs ready to
presentto Stanislavski.
We alwaysthoughtthat we had accomplisheda greatdeal in these
preparatorysessionsandsecretlyeachone of us expectedto makea big
impression on Stanislavskiby the artistry of our performance.We
dreamedof his saying: "Bravo! Well done! I have nothing to suggest.
You havedoneall the work needed!"andof his leadingthe youngsinger
with smiling eyesback to his or her chair. Yet dreamsof this sort were
nearlyalwaysdashedto the groundwith the last chordof the music.Oh
the tearsthat flowed in our impatientexpectationof quick successand
artistic recognition, and how much patienceand perseverancewere
drilled into us on our way through Stanislavski'sschool.
The working atmospherein the OperaStudio was strict, exacting,
yet it elated and enthusedall who worked with him despite all the
deprivationswe hadto suffer in thosedifficult post-revolutionaryyears.
These deprivationsdid frighten away a few singers who chose to
abandonthe ascetic atmosphereof Stanislavski'sschool in favour of
quick public success.
"Well, what is the work laid out for today?" is Stanislavski'sfirst

question.
"We have to give somehelp to Vladimir Verbitski," sayshis sister
Zinai'da.
"Very good. Come to the piano, Verbitski." A young, tall student
with twinkling black eyesmovesover to the instrument.At first glance
he does not seem to be in the least nervous and very simply sings
whateverStanislavskiasksfor. Is he really not nervousat all? Of course
he is. But we all are aware of the secretof how to hide or rather to
overcomesuchexcitement.Stanislavskihimself taughtus that.
"There are two kinds of nervousness:one is creativeand the other
panicky. Treasurethe creativeexcitementand learn to overcomethe
panicky one. You can overcomeit by meansof concentration.The
strongeryour nervousexcitementthe morefirmly you mustattachyour
attentionon someobjectandnot allow yourselfto be tom loosefrom it.
If you can rivet your attentionon something,anything, at the needed
moment it will mean that you have learned how to manageyour
excitement.Even a button on your jacket can saveyou from unneces-
sary and harmful nervousness.It can put you into a state of 'public
solitude'."
At this juncture Stanislavskitells us about his meeting with an
aviator by the nameof Utochkin. Mter Utochkin'sfirst flight over the
MoscowhippodromeStanislavskiwent over to him throughthe crowd
of spectatorssurroundinghim. Stanislavski,asa directorof playsandan
actor, was interestedin what his sensationshad beenduring the flight.
Was he frightened?How hadhe dealt with his nervousness? Utochkin
replied that he had not beenconcernedwith fear or nervousnessbe-
causehe had had"no time to be afraid"; he hadbeentoo busykeeping
track of all the instrumentsand levers, of which there were a great
many.
"So I realized,"saidStanislavski,"that the enormousconcentration
he put on all those panels of instrumentshad savedhim from any
nervousness. That is what we actorshaveto do too whenwe takeoff on
our own creativeflights."
In generalthis comparisonof the creativenessof an actor with the
flight of a plane, and all our exercisesin tuning up our physical and
inner apparatus-his"system" of acting, so like the preparationfor a
flight by an aviator-figuredoften in his work with us. He drew exam-
ples from what might seemthe most unlikely phasesof life, the most
unexpectedand faraway aspectsof nature, as if to underscorethe
communalityof the laws of naturein all the aspectsof creativeactivity.
We now know why Vladimir Verbitski is so collected,we know why
he naturallyandattentivelykeepshis eyesfixed on a poplar tree out in
the yard as if it were an object of particular interest to him. "You're
doing very well," is what we think. But Stanislavski,as soonas he hears
the first notesof the piano, stopsthe singer.
"You have a very potent meansfor holding your attentionhere in
this music, and yet your eyesare fixed on a poplar tree in the yard. Do
not miss a single note, project yourself into the depthsof every sound
createdby Rimski-Korsakov,unriddlethemandyou will find thereis no
better meansof concentrationthan this of quieting yourself and al-

lowing yourself to be carriedover into the life createdby you and the
composer.You are making use of exercisesset for you in the very
beginningof your work here.But when you areon the stagedo not ever
look uponyourselfas a student.Now you are an artist andthe complete
masterof this hall andall of us in it, who find ourselvesunderthe spell of
your creativeness."
Now the singertransfershis whole attentionto the music. Beforehe
begins to sing, there are two bars written for the right hand alone,
playing repeatedthirds in six-eight time. It is as thoughthe piano were
imbuing him with the rhythm of his own heart; then after listening to
thesethirds the singer at oncebeginshis song: "Of what do I secretly
dreamin the silenceof the nights."
The rippling notes and the passive six-eight rhythm produce a
mood of contemplation,while requiring of the singer a lightly lyrical
agitation of his feelings. At least that is how it seemedto all of us
present.The text of the ballad, written by Maikov, would seemto be
quite clear:
Within the silencesof night, my secretdreams,

Within eachhour of the day, my thoughts-
Shall e'erremainobscuredfrom all,
Evenfrom thee my heart'sown verse.
My airy friend, the joy of all my days,
Even to theeI darenot trust
The visions of my inmost soul-
Lest thou betraywhosevoice it is I nightly hear,
Whoseface it is I seeat every turn,
Whoseeyesdo ever light my way,
Whosenameit is forever on my lips....
The finale of the songdoesnot end on the usualhigh tone but ends
quietly on a meditativenote as the last word is sung.
"Well, what haveyou to say for yourself?" asksStanislavski.
"It is difficult, of course,for me to say anything,yet it seemsto me
that I do understandthe meaningof the songalthoughtI cannotsay to
what extentI was able to conveyit."
"What meaning?"
"The idea that love must be a secretfrom everyoneand that one
may not confide it evento verse,"the young man beginsto explain.
"That would indeedseemto be the case,yet it is as dryasa report
read in court. First of all, who are you? I somehowfelt that you are
somekind of respectablepapawho is afraid that someonewill find out a
secretpassionof his. You do not graspand as yet do not understandthe
most importantfact: You are a poet whoseverseis the joy of his days!
"The music, the melody, is full of throbs and agitation, despiteits
relatively smooth flow and serenity, but you do not hear this as you
should. Thus you do not disclose the depthsof the soul of this song.
Inside, it is full of ardor.Justthink, all life, day andnight, everyinstant
is filled with it, you speakher nameover and over. But all we hear is
somekind of positive, academicsinging.
"Now you go over there and hide yourself behind one of those
columns [the rehearsalwas taking place in the large hall with the
columns where EugeneOnegin would be stageda year later], let us
havejust a glimpseof you. Then sing this balladas if you feel you have
to keepyour love a secretfrom us all-yet this secretis sucha delight to
you that you cannotrestrainyourselffrom talking aboutit all the time.
Go along now, don't stop and think about it but let it rip, come what
will!"
Vladimir goesover to the columnsandhalf hiding himselffrom our
sight he beginsto sing. Stanislavskikeepspromptinghim in a whisper:
"These triplets are not mere notes, they are the beating of your
heart.Seehow it throbs!"
The first part of the ballad ends with the words: "This shall be a
secretfrom all men", after which the piano repeatsthe familiar lilting
melodywith a broadsweep.
Here Stanislavskistopsthe singer:
"No! It is very importantthat this be a secretfrom everyone.Sing as
if all the othersare unworthy of knOWing your wonderful secret.
"And you," he says turning to the pianist, "must playas if you
yourselfwere involved in this secret.After all you are herenow in the
placeof Rimski-Korsakov."
Now to all of thosepresentthe songsoundeddifferent, it was now
filled out with inner emotions,it soundedas thoughit were an intimate
talk betweentwo souls.It was only in a few phrasesthat the voice of an
overwroughtsoul rang out into space.
Stanislavskithenasksthe happily excitedyoungsingerhow he feels.
"As if I were singingan entirely new song."
"Why? Becauseyou wereableto graspthe right inner rhythm of the
versesandthe music.The whole point lies in that inner rhythm. It is the
closecompanionof your feelings and, when rightly understood,it will
evokein its train all the right emotions.
"You were also aided by the simple device of secretingyourself
behindthe columns,hiddenawayfrom us. As you continueto work on
this song, think of yourself as a poet and althoughyou say you cannot
confide your secreteven to your own verse, you neverthelessare ac-
tually creatinga poem. Thus you are doubly inspired: by love and by
your expressionof it in a poem, and as a result you have the love of a
poet. That is the core of the ballad.
"In all ballads,no matterhow brief they may be, thereis the seedof
a larger pieceof work. In eachthere is a plot, conflict, solution, and a
through-lineof action and given circumstancesall leadingto a super-
objective. It is the aim of each actor-singerto gain the right under-
standingof the surroundingcircumstancesand to know how to choose
the right coloursin which to reproducethem."
The work that Stanislavskiwas doing at this time was most inten-
sive. He was the principal director of plays and productionsin the
MoscowArt Theatre,andhe actedin someof the playshimself. He kept
Mondaysand Thursdaysfree for work in the OperaStudio. If, at any
othertime, he hada free day or eveninghe immediatelysentword that
he was comingover to work in the Studio.
Thenanyonewho wasat the Studio or couldbe quickly sentfor was
includedin the sessionwith him. Stanislavskiobviously enjoyedwork-
ing in the atmosphereof music. At the sametime he was learninghow
to write abouthis work for his future book My Life in Art.
"How lucky you singersare," he usedto say ashe settledhimself in
his armchairin the big studio workroom. "The composerproVidesyou
with one most importantelement-therhythm of your inner emotions.
That is what we actorshaveto createfor ourselvesout of a vacuum.All
you haveto do is to listen to the rhythm of the music and makeit your
own. The written word is the themeof the authorbut the melodyis the
emotionalexperienceof that theme.
"You must come to love the words and learn to bind them to the
music. An operaactoris only creativewhenhe producessoundin visual
form. Make it a rule for yourselves:not to sing a single word to no
purpose.Withoutthe organic union of words and musicthereis no such
thing as the art of opera.
"Now let us listen to 'The UpasTree', if you please."
The pianist beginsto play this gloomy short aria by striking heavy
bassoctavesthat soundlike overwhelmingblows. That is also the way
that Vassili Vinogradov'sbeautiful bassvoice beginsto sing.
Having listenedto the song,Stanislavski'scommentis:
"You only hint at the theme,you do no more thanlift a cornerof the
curtain,you do not uncoverthe whole majestyandterror of the picture.
In a word you havenot yet truly heardor seeninto Pushkin'slines."
Here Stanislavskirises suddenlyfrom his chair, and stretchinghis
long arms before him like the paws of some kind of sphinx, fixes his
heavy-lidded,half-closedeyeson somefar-distantpoint. His face seems
hewnfrom graniteand inspiresawe.
When the pianist, who is watching him closely, plays the intro-
ductory chordshe beginsto sing. The words now soundawesome.The
text of the songis entirely different. All the vowel soundsare deepand
the first phrasesuddenlytakeson a new and ominoussense.The second
phraseat once makes us feel that we see some elemental,lava-like
earth.
Mter that whenhe pronouncesthe words aboutthe singleupastree
as a "fearsomesentinelof doom", a greatcosmicworld opensbeforeus.
"The upas tree is terrible," Stanislavski emphasizes,"and it stands
alonein all the universe."
Out in a desertparched,bereft of life,

Rearingitself from sun-cakedsoil
The upastree standserect,alone,
A fearsomesentinelof doom.
Naturewith arid thirst

On day of wrath gavebirth
To this tree acurst
Gaveit deadleavesand
Filled its roots with venom.
The poisonfilters throughits bark

Under the noondayblaze
At eve it hardensto a thick,
Transparentresin.
No bird flies near,no tiger comes,

Only black stormsenvelopit.
All shunthis tree of death
And flee from it in horror.
Shouldan errantcloud mayhap

Sprinkle its dormantleaves,
They too drip poisoninto the
Surroundingsand.
Yet a man with ruthlessmien

Sentanotherman, his slave,
To this grim tree of death.
By morninghe broughtback the poison.
He broughtthe deadly resin and a branch

Of wilted leaves,his face bathedin sweat
Which coursedover him in icy streams.
Under the vault of his lord's greattent

The poor slavebroughthis load, grew faint, fell dead
At the feet of his unconquerablelord.
Into this venomthe sovereign

Now dippedhis arrows
To carry doom to all who lived nearby
And far beyondhis borders.
We were readyto believethat we werelisteningto a new language.

What wasthis: Pushkin'swriting? Or couldit be that Stanislavskicould
so re-createwords?Both thingswereprobablytrue. Yet it wasonly now
that we clearly conceivedall the poison, evil,disaster,terror, doom of
which this tree of deathwas the dreadsymbol. Yet the amazingpart of
it was that despitethe terrifying picture which had loomedbefore us,
we were ourselvesnot terrified; there was so much power of art and
sucha senseof indestructibilityaboutStanislavski,who seemedto have
becomethe sentinelof doom, that we did not fear this elementalevil.
Perhapswe werefeeling pride in the powerful artist who for an instant
disclosedto us the profundity and pictorial power of this creation of
Pushkinand Rimski-Korsakov.
"I might make a mistake farther on s~ that is why I stop," says
Stanislavski,and,passinghis handover his face asif wiping it, returnsto
his placein his armchair."I showyou this not so that you will copy me
or follow the logic of my thought: Each one can and should do it
differently andin his own way."
Vinogradov now takes his place again. How frightening to stand
whereStanislavskihasjust beenand sing what he hasjust sung!
Yet this is not really so. Everyoneknows Stanislavski'srule about
work: Whateveryou do on the stage,whetheryou act, sing, express
your emotions,embody your character-youmust first do your work
correctly andonly later on do you renderit more beautiful or lustrous.
If one of us is absorbedin reachingsomesimple and clear object in a
believableway, he has nothing to fear; there will be no critical or
ironical looks beamedin his direction. That is why Vinogradovboldly
movesto the piano and instantly follows, as it were, the hot trail just
blazedby Stanislavski,who now becomesa careful prompter.He is as
filled with feeling as the singer himself, suggestionsconstantlytrem-
bling on his lips:
"When we come to the line, 'Should an errant cloud mayhap
sprinkle its dormant leaves.. .' why is there such a soft, caressing
melody, and warm piano? The rain cloud is a thing of joy, it brings
refreshmentto the world.... But now you mustinstantlychangeabout,
asyou sing, to saythe rain is poisonous.You see,the upastree converts
even good into evil. Repeat the words about the cloud. You have
finished the exposition of the theme, you have conjured up for us a
realm of death. Now humanbeingsand their relationshipscome into
action.You are presentinga large andvery dramaticpieceof poetry,it
is a whole play in itself. Imagineyourself to be a Pharaohwho hassent
his slaveto fetch the poison.This poisonis obtainedat the price of the
slave'slife. A despoticpower drives people to their death.The more
terrifying that poweris the more we shall loatheit. And thereis the gist
of the thoughtcontainedin the poem: We must hateevil.
" 'Yet a man with ruthlessmien sent anotherman, his slave, to this
grim tree of death: Convey that commandwhich is containedin a
commandinglook.
"At the words 'The poor slave brought his load, grew faint, fell
dead',Rimski-Korsakovwrote a descendingfall of notesfull of suffering
that very distinctly portraysthe fatigue, illness, dying of the slave.Sing
eachword to the last letter," saysStanislavski." 'Broughthis load, grew
faint, fell dead'-thereyou havethreelargeacts.Always rememberthat
the first sign of a good singer is the fact that he sings eachword, and
consequentlyeachphrase,to the very end.
" 'The poor slave brought his load, grew faint, fell dead at the
feet.. : -now pour into the broad melody all the pain of giving up
one'slife anddo so with largestrokes,but gently andwith consideration
for the dying man. And then rap out each syllable of the rest of the
phrase:' ...of his unconquerablelord: Let thesedry, rapped-outsylla-
bles serveas a descriptionof that sovereign."
The singer repeatsthe individual phrasesseveral times and the
rehearsalgoesforward at a rapid pace.
"Now come to the third unit of action: 'Into this venom the sover-
eign now dippedhis arrowsto carry doom to all who lived nearbyand
far beyondhis borders.'Note how Rimski-Korsakovcontrives to pass
the themeof the poisonousupastree to that of the sovereign:the com-
poser usesthe samemelody for both. You now have the sovereignin
your mind's eye. Your words are few but there must be a great deal of
thoughtbehindthem. Nekrasovput this well in his expression:'Words
are condensed,but thoughtsexpand:That aphOrismshouldserveas a
devicefor the work of all singers.
"As for the end of the ballad, there is little for me to say to you.
Usually the finale goesalongcorrectlyof its own momentumif you have
thought your way through to it correctly. There is one thing to re-
member-theexpressiveness of the words. They must paint picturesfor
my imaginationof the life createdby the author. But how shall I, the
listener,be able to visualizethesepicturesif you, the conveyorof them,
do not see them? You must infect me with the desire to see your
pictures,images,andI shall follow your exampleandalsocreateimages
in my own imagination. Act through the words and the music on my
imaginationand not just on my eardrum.To achieveexpressivewords
and producethem in the style of a Shalyapinyou needto possessfirst-
classdiction.
"Now sing it all through from the beginningand feel your way to
the goal that you aim at throughoutthe whole ballad. Gathertogether
the componentpartsandslip them like the chunksof a shashlykon the
spit of the main idea. Slavesperish-sovereigns
retain their power. The
deathof the slavewho fetchedthe poisonenablesthe despotto spread
death to neighbouring countries. Hence hatred towards a poison-
spreading,death-dealingdespotismruns throughthe entire song."
After a successfulrehearsalwe often sat aroundand talked. Stani-

slavski usedto tell us aboutsingershe had known; most often he spoke
of Shalyapin,with whom he was on friendly terms.Stanislavskiliked to
take out his key chain and rattle it. (Why he had so many keys in his
pocket no one could guessbecausehis doors in his study were always
unlocked!) At such times he liked to joke and when our young singers
began to dancehe smiled at their free and easy ways. This lent an
atmosphereof greatsimplicity and hominessto the school.
The purposeof finding the"core" of a shortballad, of revealingthe
bright, packedimagery, thoughtsand feelings exaltedabove those of
daily life, was to developin a singer the sharpeye of an artist and the
subtlesensitiveness of a poet-musician.
Each song of this kind worked out by the studentswas a kind of
whetstoneon which they sharpenedtheir feelings, minds, tastes,and
techniquesfor their futuresas actor-singers.
Stanislavskilaid a special,really seriousstresson any ballad chosen
to be worked on, even the shortest,and he was unconditionallycom-
mitted to the carefulstudyof the thoughtand characterof the author's
composition."Why did you choosethis particular song?""What is it
that you wish to conveyby it?" Suchwerehis questionsandthey hadto
be answeredwith more sensethan just the stereotyped:"BecauseI
liked it." For Stanislavskievery ballad was an artistically achieved
statement.
Take, for instance,the very short ballad of Rimski-Korsakovcalled
"In the hills of Georgia."Characteristicof it are languid, tenderly sad
Easternintonationsand a majesticallymelancholyform. The singer's
difficult task is to convey the power of Pushkin's"radiant sadness".It
cost Stanislavskia great deal of hard thinking to infuse this work with
meaningso that the ninety secondsit took to sing it becamesignificant
both to the singerhimself and to the peoplewho heardhim perform.
We seethe studentwho hasjust sungthe songstandingin front of
Stanislavski.There is nothing in the ballad to "show off" the singer;
thereare no ringing high notesthat he might drag out, thereis no long
fennataat the endin which to put all kinds of "feeling".
As the ballad was just sung, no one seemsto havebeenaffectedby
it. Everyonefeels this including the performerhimself, Kudinov, who is
now looking, with an uncertainsmile, at Stanislavski.But the latter is
very good-natured:the effort and the ineffectualnessof the young
singerare too obvious.
"Yes, yes, what you needhere is the power and graspof a Shalya-
pin," saysStanislavskiat last. "But we just don't possessthem. There-
fore all we cando is to learnhow to follow his example.The result may
not be too brilliant in power and expressiveness, but it will be true to
the natureof the composition.
"Now ask yourself: what is the essentialelementwithout which the
heartof this ballad may not be expressed?What action, yes action not
mood,of your soul, is at the baseof your emotionsandinterpretationof
this song? What must be now the substanceof your life? Study the
Pushkin text most searchingly. It is a ballad, a subtle, transparent
watercolour drawing. To convey its content one needs not simple
contemplation,a vacanteyeandfadedsound,but a very strongsenseof
energetic,inner activity, a vivid imagination, all maskedunder the
restrainedtendernesswhich permeatesthe whole ballad. Pushkinhas
no faded words, thoughtsor images. And Rimski-Korsakovwas well
awareof this. He puts the Pushkinwords into the foreground.That is
why his accompanimentis madeof suchlight, transparentmusic. That
is also why the melody and the logical significanceof the text are so
closelyboundtogether.This ballad is a model of the caretakenby the
composerfor the preciouswords of the poet. At no point in this song
doesthe composersacrifice the text to any externalvocal effects. This
much is a generalintroduction to the characterof your performance.
How will you now concretelyattack the problem of singing the bal-
lad?"
"I shall study the versesand first of all penetratetheir meaning,"
comesthe bold reply of the young singer.
"Very well, continue,"saysStanislavski.
"There are two parts, two themes: there is nature and there is I
myself with my feelings."
"Generallyspeaking,that is true, but you must alwaysseekout first
the humanbeing. His thoughtsare the foregroundandthroughhim, his
reactions,naturewill participate.
"Next you must know: What man? After all you are in this case
Pushkinhimself." This statementby Stanislavskiquite takesthe singer
aback."You see,you are talking aboutyour own depressedspirits, your
own sadness,your own love. Thus the depression,sadness,and love of
Pushkinarenow yours." Whenhe seesthe bewilderedface of the young
singer and hearsthe suppressedgiggling amongthe other studentsat
the idea of Kudinov being transformedinto Pushkin,Stanislavskigoes
on to explain :
"Of course,you will remainyourself, Kudinov, andwhen I give you

the role of Pushkinit meansthat your thoughtsand feelings shouldbe
affectedas if you stoodyourself in the place of Pushkin.Do you know
underwhat circumstanceshe wrote theselines?"
"I do. Pushkinwas travelling through the Caucasusto Arzrum in
1829 and wrote them on the way. They are evidently addressedto
Natalia Goncharova[Pushkin'swife]."
"Good. If you will fill in the rest of the circumstancesof the ballad
with the figments of your imaginationthat will be good. But aboveall
stick closely to the text."
The singerbeginscautiouslyto read the verses:"Over the hills of
Georgialies a densefog and night...."
StanislavskistopsKudinov at once.
"Do you visualize this picture? You may no longer just read the
words aloud. Now all the words of this poemare cherishedby you. We
are all here now on a streetin Moscow but you are to transportus to
faraway Georgia, crossing nearly the whole of Russia, climbing the
great range of the Caucasusmountains,carried along by horses.And
you are alone,which is somethingone'sparticularly awareof at night.
And notetoo it is not just the time of night but thereis a densefog lying
over the land. There is somethingmotionlessabout this, something
numbingexcept...."
"Nearbythe tumult of the Aragva river," saysKudinov.
"Which meansyou are on the banksof the Aragva, which alone in
the impenetrablenight pursuesits tumultuouscourse.Seehow laconi-
cally a great picture has been shaped.How you must treasureevery
singleword so that it may reveala picture.Thenwhat doesthe poetfeel
in this setting?"
"I am sadandyet my heartis light," readson Kudinov.
"Wait. Do not babbleyour words," saysStanislavskias he stopsthe
singer."This whole dark picture is summedup in the poet'sconfession
that he is sad. Nor could it be otherwise.This is perfectly natural and
just as it shouldbe. But suddenly,quite unexpectedly,this dark picture
is illumined by a shaft of light. The poet is sadbut his heartis light; his
sadnesscontainsnot only somelight, it is filled with it. And notice too
that threetimeshe repeatsthe words: thou, thee,only with thee.What
an affirmation of life! On what a bright note of joy he ends.
"If we read on carefully, we shall see that Pushkin in his state of
reflection (what man as he travels does not think of the woman he
loves?)draws a conclusionof great SignificanceshOWing the power of
the poet'sardentheartas it overcomesthe depressionsandagitationsof
life. This song is about much more than longing for the beloved. It is
aboutthe greatheartof the poet that you will sing...."
We listened,enchantedandinspiredby Stanislavski'sthoughts,and
realizedthat there was no such thing as inexpressive,dull balladsbut
only a shallow approachin our thinking about them. Thereforeif we
were to do justice to Pushkin,Rimski-Korsakov,Chaikovski,we had to
developour imaginationsand indeedbecomepoetsourselves.
"You singershave the capacityto convey the deep thoughtsof a
poet and all the significanceof any ballad," said Stanislavskias if he
were reading our minds. "Words, reinforcedby music, have a magic
power. All you need is to pay attention to the words and they will
resoundwith extraordinarypower-thisis somethingan actorcannever
achievein drama.But you must consciouslyenunciateyour words and
the melody andnot let them just slip uncontrolledfrom your tongue.
"Let us listen to what Rimski-Korsakov does to words, to every
syllable, how he designsthe intonation of the music. Now pleasesing
the first two lines."
After a melancholychordthat seemsto hanglifelessly in the air, the
singer begins the familiar introduction to the ballad. The thought
containedis now clear but when he tries to clothe it with his singing
Stanislavskiis obliged to stop him again and point out the long and
difficult path towardstrue expressiveness.
Stanislavski'sown wealth of miming, his expressiveness and ges-
turesso enrichedthe thoughtand the imagescontainedin the ballads,
he made all so clear that one wanted to begin to sing again at once
before the impressioncooled,before this magnificentmomentfled, so
that onecould seizeupon andtake firm hold of the patternsketchedby
him.
Yet to graspall this in one sweepis not possiblein art. It is only to
one of limited mind that it would appearpossibleto createsomething
so splendidin a flash.
"That happens only once perhaps in a whole lifetime," said
Stanislavski."At leastit happenedto me only once,when I wasplaying
Ibsen'scharacter,Dr. Stockman.I had an instantaneous insight into all
the slightestdetailsof his life-I did not haveto searchany farther."
But when our singer,so inspiredby Stanislavski,has sungno more
than two lines of the ballad,he is gently stopped.
"In the first placeyou are not altogether concentrated, you do not
have in mind what it is to listen at night to nature, in unfamiliar
surroundingsat that. Secondly,and as a result of this, your words are
not entirely motivated.No imagesariseout of them as yet. That means
that your sub-textis insufficient. If that is true a prime factor is lacking:
the renderingof the author'sintent through your own emotions." In
saying this Stanislavskismiles understandinglybecausehe seeshow
distraught and upset the singer is. Then he asks: "Why is this so?
Becauseyou wish to embraceeverythingin one grasp.Thereforeyou
must learn to make an analysiS,so that you may know with what to
begin. Begin with a firmly and clearly fixed object on which to con-
centrate.All your art will stemfrom that, so let this be an established
rule for you.
"Now exactly where is your centre of attention, of what does it
consist?"
"My past,a night in the mountainsin the Caucasus,"saysthe singer.
"Very good. But the point, of course,is to make thesememories
concrete.You must have a clear remembrancein your mind of similar
circumstances.Arouseyour fantasyand your 'emotion'memory."
"I never was in the Caucasusbut I have beenin the Crimea, and
travelledonceby night from Sevastopolto Yalta. That is all I have in
the way of memories."
"Then recall that and also bring back anythingelsegermaneto this
ballad, books you have read, poetry, picturesyou have seenand tales
you have heard. Sometimesa painting seenwith specialinterestmay
yield morefood for your feelingsthan a whole lecture.So bring backto
your imaginationas much materialof this sort asyou can.We needit in
building our 'given circumstances'.Some things are provided by the
author: night, mountains,a river and, far away in the North, a beloved
one. But in your imaginationyou must makethem all very vivid, as if it
happenedto you only yesterday.When you will have producedthese
circumstancesin your own imaginationand come to believe in them,
then we too shall believe in your feelings. We cannotknow what you
seein your imaginationbut we shall be drawnby your inner visionsand
we, the spectators,will paint in our imaginationsour own pictures,
underthe impact of your creativeinspiration."
"But I haveso little time for the beginning,"saysthe singer."There
is only onechord,andthenit is necessaryto paint at oncea complicated
picture."
"Then rememberhow things happenin real life. Do you actually
needso much time to createa vivid picture in your imaginationof this
or that event?You are told that just now an airplane crashed,some
peopleyou knew were killed, and instantly you imagine a whole pic-
ture although you have never witnessedthe crashingof an airplane.
Why is this so?Becauseit is all very closeto your feelings,you are much
involved, inwardly activated.In such a casedo you needmuch time to
concentrate? Your own naturedoesthis instantlyfor you. An actormust
learnthis processand how to be guidedby it. How long did it take you
to envisagethat tragic picture?Onesecond,perhapstwo, andthen you
immediately were concentratedon studying the details and being
affectedby them. What is the key to this? Your intent attentionl
"So it is in the presentinstance:your attentionfixed on an object
forces you to go deeperand deeperinto the imagined picture. The
differencehere is that you must guide your attention. That is why an
actor finds it important, indeedimperative,to stick to this rule: An actor
must be able in a single instant to fix his attention on the obiect pre-
sented,so that he mayreact to it with true feelings,and also he mustbe
able as quickly to turn off his attention and cut out his emotions,
returning to his own life.
"This implies virtuosity in the handling of your attention. If an
actor says, 'I enteredinto my role so completely, was so powerfully
affectedby it that I beganto weepandcould not stop', thenhe mustbe
warnedthat he hastakena wrong turn. That way lies hysteria.That is
not art. We must understandthe emotions,and have a techniqueto
control them. Write that down and add it to your rules. Why not write
everything down? Do you rely on your memory? The point is not
whetheryour memoryis splendidor not too good. The thing is that the
creativecapacityof an actoranda singeris a science.You haveto study,
developit, as you do otherforms of science.Unfortunately,few realize
this. But let us go back to our Caucasianballad."
Listening to Stanislavski,the singer is standingby the piano, pro-
foundly immersedin his thoughts.His face is utterly serious.When the
first tentative, sad chord is played at the start of the ballad, his eyes
travel slowly to some distant place seenonly by him, far beyond the
walls of our hall, andthen,as if obeyingsomeinner urgehe beginsvery
simply and gravely to sing.
"Over the hills of Georgialies a dense,dark night." Then we hear
the harmonicsoundsaccompanyingthe words, "Nearby the tumult of
the Aragva river." The melody here is like a beautiful cascadeof
sounds,rising lightly afterwardsto the words: "Before me..." until
over the heartsof his listenersa warm wave seemsto rise and fall. We
cannottake our eyesfrom the unhandsome,round face of the singer,
now so informedwith meaning.We wait to hearwhat he will sing next,
how it will be, as if we havequite forgotten that we know the contents
of the ballad.
Whenhe sings:"I am sadandyet my heartis light," suddenlywe all
feel releasedfrom the tenseanticipation in which we had beenheld.
Stanislavski, who has been leaning forward in concentratedexpec-
tancy,his face mostearnestin expression,now suddenlythrowshimself
backin his chair andsays:
"You begancorrectlyandmadeus all listen to you. But thenyou lost
the threadof thought and beganto 'colour' your words. You 'are sad'
and immediatelyyou put on a sentimentallysilly little smile, 'yet my
heart is light' with an artificial lighting up of your face. This is arrant
overactingfrom an inner vacuum.That is becauseyou abandonedyour
focus of attention.But you shouldfollow the text, the thought.After all,
whena man is sadhis heartis heavy,but you saysadnessis shotthrough

with brightness.Thereforeherethe words'light', 'brightness','thoughts
of thee'take on a specialsignificance."
The singerbeginsoncemore at the beginningand althoughall the
words come out distinctly, one feels a studied effort on his part and
Stanislavskiis againdissatisfied.He tries to find a new approachto the
singer'spsychology.
"Now you are mechanicallyemphasizingthe importantwords. It is
not your thoughtwhich is in action. You seemto be pushingthe words
forward. For whom are you singingthis?"
"I am talking to myself. I am alone."
"You mean you are reflecting? When a man reflects, when he
communeswith himself, thereis nonethelessa kind of dialogue;it is as
thoughhis mind is conversingwith his heart. Consequently,the mon-
ologue will contain hesitancy,doubts, firmness, weakness,and stub-
bornness-allthe elementsof an ordinary argument.Your reflections
needto be more profound. Addressthem to her. Whereis she?"
"Very far away, in the North, in Moscow."
"Note that the poetdoesnot sayhis thoughtsarefull of her: He uses
the word thee, thus addressinghimself directly to her. You see how
inattentivelywe arestill readingandweighingthe text. Now if you will
tum your thoughtsdirectly to her acrossa greatextentof spacethis will
oblige you to pack more action into your words and thinking, as if
impelled by distance,to make them carryoverto her. The volume of
your voice is not of any avail in this. So what then is the focal point of
your attention?"
"She is-I must sing to her."
There could be no questionabout it. He sangin quite a different
way. We felt this not only through the soundof his voice but also the
expressionin his eyes that were set on some far, faraway point. This
"distant look" in a singerdrawseveryoneto him, it arousesa desireto
speculateabout him, it arousesa desire to speculateabout what he is
seeing,what moveshim so.
Stanislavskilistenedto the whole of theballad,nevertakinghis eyes
off the singer.It was obviousthat he too was rathermoved,but he was
sparingin his praisealthoughwe believedthat he wassatisfiedwith the
responsiveness of the singer.
"Now you are on the right trail. It remainsfor you to put a high
polish on the song,by detailedenunciationof everyword, every vowel,
while at the sametime conveying the thought they contain and the
beautyof the music.
"Sing the beginningagain so that you will realize the direction of
the work still to be done."
He singsthe first two lines of the ballad and then Stanislavskistops
him.
"All that we shall say about this song, the separatelines, words,
images,vocal shadings-allthat will be storedup in your subconscious.
Thereforethe more you reflect on the contentsof the piece, turning
your attention to the very finest shadingsof sound, the richer will be
your storehouse.
"In this compareyour work with that of a painterwho first makesa
drawing and then lays on the colours.Good paintersare known by the
richnessof their palettes,by the successionand combination of the
most delicatehalftones."
"But I follow all the shadingsindicatedby the author: all the piano,
crescendo,ritardando marks. I do not know what other shadingsI
shouldlook for."
"I am speakingof shadingsof words and sounds,nuanceswhich
cannotbe set down in the score,yet they are the very onesthat impart
a soul to the compositionandit is throughthem that the artist becomes
manifest."
As he goeson to speakof the differentiationto be madein vowelsin
orderto increasetheir pictorial, phonic powerwe realizethat all this is
not immediately acquired and the singer himself shakes his head
doubtfully, eVidently hesitatingto believein his own ability to achieve
it.
"Now, don't think too muchaboutit," saysStanislavski."Start right
off, or elseyou will fall into the habit of excessiveintrospectionandwill
be afraid to sing. All right, you will make mistakes,but what of that!
You will exerciseyour willpower andnot be balked.Actors often say: 'I
see, I understand.I'll do that next time.' But no-go aheadand do it
now."
Thesewords stir the singerinto action and he beginsto sing. From
time to time he stopswhena word doesnot comeright andsingsit over
and over.
WhereuponStanislavski,who is keeping close track of him, cau-
tiously promptshim. As the creativeand artistic impulse takeshold of
the singer,Stanislavskiseesto it that he doesnot lose his way.
Next we have a ballad quite different from the preceding.It con-

tains no description.It consistsof words exchangedbetweentwo men;
it is practically a small aria from an opera. And we are puzzled by
how to take hold of it.
"Let me hearit, please,"saysStanislavski,settinghis pince-nezon
the bridge of his nose.
34 STANISLA VSKI ON OPERA
A seriousyoungbaritonegoesover to the piano, gives a sign to the

accompanist,and with grim and immobile face he beginsto sing "The
Messenger,"a song composedby Rimski-Korsakov to words from a
poemby Heine:
"Up and to horse! Throughthicket and plain, hasteto the castleof
Duncan."
The precipitous, galloping music runs through almost the whole
length of the song. It is only the last four lines that have a despairing
accompanimentas the action nearsthe tragic denouement.
The contentof the ballad concernsa young knight who rouseshis
servantandsendshim at night to King Duncanto find out which of his
daughtersDuncanis marrying off. If it is the black-browedone all is
well, but if it is the one "with bright brown braid" then let the servant
bring him a cord for a noose.
The whole balladis very agitated,impetuousin character.Nervous
sixteenthnotes to each quarter note of the accompanimentgive the
impressionof a wild gallop and at the sametime a wildly-beatingheart
waiting for its doom.
The recitativo line for the baritone is also set in the spasmodic,
gallopingtenseness of the accompaniment. Towardsthe endof the song
the hoofbeatsdie away in long chords,like the heavy swinging of the
pendulumof fate. The Knight speaksin gloomy, thoughtful tones:"Go
then to the marketplaceandbuy me a cord, ride back at a walk andbe
silent. I shall understand!"
The whole song lasts barely one minute but what a tempestwe
sensein the soul of that man!
The baritone sings the ballad. We can see that he is afraid to
"overact" and incur the wrath of Stanislavskiso he avoids doing any-
thing extremeor extraneous.His face remainsimpassivelygloomy from
beginningto end as he studiouslyproduceseachnote, eachword.
"For whom did you sing?" asksStanislavskiwith a sly expression.
"For you" is the reply.
"Am I your servant?As a matter of fact you could have made me
feel I was your companion.But this I did not feel."
"No, that is not what I meant.I simply recountedthe story to you."
"In otherwords,you were not addressinganyonein particular.You
did nothingbut stir the air andsangto the microbesin it."
"I know that I did not havea focal point of attention.It makesyou
feel awkward, to standat the piano when you have to act as if you are
on the stage."
"But this is your stagenow. Once you went over to the piano and
undertookto re-createa pieceof the life of a humansoul-thatputsyou
on the stage.Acting besidea pianois a mostsubtleanddifficult thing to
do. The reasonis that all dependson fantasy,on yours as an artist, and
ours as spectators.Now sing me the songagain.I shall be listening."
The singer beginsover again. Stanislavskilistens with absorption,
his eyeson the floor. At the end he sits motionlessfor a few seconds,
then standsup briskly andsays:
"You promptme, I do not know all of the wordsyet." Suddenlywith
the first chord of the music he is transformed.His face is pale and he
leansover the table in front of his chair gazing at the floor as if in the
shadowshe saw somethingwhich made him exclaim in a desperate
voice: "Up andto horse!Throughtthicket and plain, hasteto the castle
of Duncan!"
Thenashe leansover still farther he goeson in a hissingbut musical
whisper: "Go to his stables,and wait! If anyonecomes,enquire...."
Suddenly,as if he can no longer hold back his secret,he straightens
himselfandin a desperatetone, almosta cry, he sings:" ... which of his
daughtersDuncanis giving in marriage."
We had the sensationthat it was night, that we were in dimly
lighted stables,straw on the ground, a lantern on the wall, horses
moving restlesslyin their stalls, and, in the corner,the Knight's servant
just arousedfrom his sleep.The Knight himself is a half-clad youth; his
eyesare wild, burningwith fear and despairashe speaksto his servant.
"If it is the black-browedone..." Stanislavskigoeson in a choked
voice, "then fly back. But if it is the other, with the bright brown
braid...." Here his whole great figure is staggeredas if under the
impact of a painful blow to his heart: " .. .if it is the other with the
brightbrownbraid..." He finishesthephrasewith a broadandsweeping
tone of despair,then sinks into himself with the words: "No need to
hurry then, my friend."
The word "friend" is spokenas if it meansthe end of everything.
Mer this come two long-drawn-outchords.He seemsquite bereft
of emotion, bent over, absorbedin himself, and sings almost with
indifference: "Then go thou to the market," and adds, with a kind of
innerbrutality: "buy me a cord" (the word soundsterrifying ashe sings
it), "comebackat a walk andbe silent!" As he says"be silent" he looks
for the last time at his servant and it soundsas if that is the most
importantof his orders.At the endhe singsvery simply, collectedly: "I
shall understand!"
We sit theremotionless,frightened,really alarmedby what we have
seen.The fear stemsin part from the tragic content of the song, the
dreadfulfate impending,and so vividly projected.But in the main we
are stunnedby the power of the instant outburst of drama which
Stanislavskihasshownwithout the slightestpreparationor evidenceof
effort.
Settlingback in his armchair,Stanislavskiremarksquietly:
"I havegiven you this demonstrationnot for the purposeof haVing
you copy me but in orderto teachyou how to follow the logic of what I
did. Each personwill pursuethat line in the light of his own under-
standing,taste,and talent.
"Now let us analyzewhat is to be donein this ballad. Of courseit is
more of a piece from an opera than a short song, and it calls for a
dramatic, 'Shakespearian'interpretation. You need great inner
techniquein order to seize at once the intense inner rhythm of the
sceneandits focal points: your servant,the imageof the wedding,your
own death. But you do not get your rhythm after the music has be-
gun-thereis not time for that. You mustsetyour rhythm ahead,before
the music starts, as though you were yourself determiningit for the
accompaniment.Thereforethe ballad should alreadybe taking shape
in your feelingsbeforethe first note is playedon the piano.
"Here it is necessary,andI usethis word very sparingly,to havethe
temperamentof an actor. It is that temperamentwhich permitsyou to
arrive at the neededrhythm andcontinuewith it unabatedto the end.
This high point of impact is arrived at not throughforce, which would
blur it, but throughpowerful expressiveness. Includedin this too is the
useof pauseswhich arefully asSignificant. Actually the powerto make
his pausespregnant with meaning reveals the true actor. Only a
powerful temperamentcanfill out a large pause.Shalyapinwasfamous
for that. In fact the Shalyapinpauseas well as his diction havebecome
classic.
"Do not seekout temperamentinside yourself but rather look for
the most moving partsof a piece,find the right rhythm, exerciseactive
willpower, andall this will combineto bring out your temperament,if
you haveany.
"But do not force or do violence to your feelings if your soul does
not catchfire. The most dangerousthing you can do now is to cripple
your facultiesby overloadingthembeyondyour strength-thatleadsto
hysteriaandmuscularcrampsresultingfrom over-tenseness. Make this
a rule: Themoredramatically powerfula sceneis, the greaterthe call on
your inner forces, the freer your body mustbe. While you are singing
watch your handswith especialcare: no clenchedfists, no twisting of
fingers. H you ball your fists you aredonefor becauseyou will haveshut
in your temperament,driven it deepinside."
One rehearsalday the following short conversationtook place.

"Why are you not showing me something?"Stanislavskiaskeda
quiet young man as he cameacrossthe vestibulefrom his study to our
rehearsalroom. The vestibulecontaineda window, decoratedwith four
small white columns,which lookedout into the courtyard.A roundiron
stovestoodin one comer.This spacewas wherewe sat andsmoked,as
irresponsibleyouths, while waiting our chance to stand beside the
piano and offer proof as to whetheror not we were worthy of Stanis-
lavski's time and effort spentin trying to make actorsand artistsout of
us.
"I havebeengiven a balladto sing andI don't know what to do with
it. I don't like it, but all the good songshave alreadybeendistributed.
Your sistertold me that this is a goodballadbut I canmakeneitherhead
nor tail of it."
Stanislavskilooked at the bewilderedand disturbedexpressionon
the young man'sface and said:
"Well, you sing it anyhow,if you know it."
"Oh, I haveworkedover andrepeatedit so often I am bored by it."
And then he walked with considerableembarrassment to the piano.
The balladdid indeedappear tobe ratherbaffling both in form and
content.Rimski-Korsakovhad madea short musical monologueout of
versesby Maikov. He composedit in a stylized form of antiquity, with
highflown speechplacedin a very beautifulrecitativo, accompaniedby
opalescentharmonies.
When the songwas over no one seemedto haveunderstoodwhat it
was aboutand we waited to hearwhat Stanislavskiwould say. He was
silent for a bit and then turning to us all he madethis comment:
"I like this ballad, there is a lot of flavour in it, but it requiresthe
right approach.'This will prove most instructive for you," he added,
turning to the singer.
"This is a preparatorystudyof a youngman in Ancient Greece.It is
almostin the style of a poemby Sappho.All singersshouldenlargetheir
horizonsandbroadentheir culture. Now readme the verse...."
In the grotto I awaitedthee-

The promisedhour cameand went
Daylight soonspent
Drowsedinto twilight;
The aspensdozed,the halcyonbirds fell silent.
Yet all in vain!
The moon glided forth andflooded
The firmament with silver ... vanished....
The night meltedawayand Kephale'sbeloved,
Eos, leanedover the gatesof rosy, new-bornday,
Shakingdown from her tressesgoldengrains,
Pearlsandopals,into the dark blue plains
And forests.... Still thou earnestnot...
"Is the thoughtin this verseclear?"askedStanislavski.

"I comprehendthat it is a questionof uselesswaiting all throughthe
night. But the songis very brief."

Previewpdf

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Previewpdf

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Previewpdf

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

STAHISlAUSKI OH OPfRA

Frontispiece: The ballroom in Stanislavski'sresidenceat 6 Leontyevski

For a quarter of a century Elizabeth Hapgood as translatorand

Copyright © 1975 by Olga Alexeef Mardoukhaeva

The translatorandpublisherwish to thankMme. O. Rossikhinaandthe pub-

All rights reserved.Except for brief passagesquotedin a newspaper,maga-

Library of CongressCatalogNo. 72-87119

ABOUT THE CO-AUTHOR vii

5. A May Night 269

7. The Queenof Spades 336

8. The GoldenCockerel 364

artist but a leading director, a memberof the theatreadministration

Excerptedfrom an article by G. Kristi, leading RussianStanislavski

THE FORTUNATE PEOPLEwho were privilegedto seeany of the original

proper food This made the undoubtedbrilliance and impact of the

IN JANUARY 1921 Stanislavski was offered an old private house, 6

Onehalf of eachday wasdevotedto classactivitiesandthe otherto

at the Larins'," "Tatiana'sLetter," and "The Meeting," were the basis

sakeof art. Yet even to this dull monotonyStanislavskimaintainedan

the developmentof Stanislavski'sacting technique,and what high

The bestsketcheswhich Stanislavskiproposedwere the onesdone

Serenewould be the azuresea

concentrated,as though she were listening to something going on

"Out of eight lines of verseyou haveto constructa whole dramatic

Stanislavski'ssister, Zinai'da, gave the preparatorytraining to the

"Well, what is the work laid out for today?" is Stanislavski'sfirst

better meansof concentrationthan this of quieting yourself and al-

Within the silencesof night, my secretdreams,

Out in a desertparched,bereft of life,

Naturewith arid thirst

The poisonfilters throughits bark

No bird flies near,no tiger comes,

Shouldan errantcloud mayhap

Yet a man with ruthlessmien

He broughtthe deadly resin and a branch

Under the vault of his lord's greattent

Into this venomthe sovereign

We were readyto believethat we werelisteningto a new language.

After a successfulrehearsalwe often sat aroundand talked. Stani-

"Of course,you will remainyourself, Kudinov, andwhen I give you

whena man is sadhis heartis heavy,but you saysadnessis shotthrough

Next we have a ballad quite different from the preceding.It con-

A seriousyoungbaritonegoesover to the piano, gives a sign to the

One rehearsalday the following short conversationtook place.

In the grotto I awaitedthee-

"Is the thoughtin this verseclear?"askedStanislavski.

You might also like