The Hawaiians

are any of the aboriginal people of Hawaii, descendants of Polynesians who migrated to Hawaii in two waves: the first from the Marquesas Islands, probably about AD 400; the second from Tahiti in the 9th or 10th century. Numbering about 300,000 at the time of Captain James Cook's arrival at the islands in 1778, full-blooded Hawaiians numbered fewer than 10,000 in the late 20th century (though there are large numbers of part-Hawaiians).

The Hawaiians were a brown-skinned people with straight or wavy black hair. They were large and of fine physique, like the New Zealand Maori, whose language resembled theirs. The ruling classes tended to inbreed. Polygyny and polyandry were practiced, especially among the chiefs. Rank descended mainly through the mother.

Hawaiian society's basic unit of land, the ahupuaa, usually extended from the shore to the mountaintop, with rights in the adjoining sea waters, so that the occupants had the means of supplying all their wants--the sea for fish; the littoral for coconuts; the valley for taro, their principal food; the lower slopes for sweet potatoes, yams, and bananas; and the mountain for wood. The next subdivision was called the ili; it was either subservient to the ahupuaa or independent. Within the ili were small areas, kuleanas, occupied by the common people, who also had certain rights of fishery, water, and mountain products. Besides open-sea fisheries, there were stone-walled fish ponds, some now 1,000 years old, built semicircularly from the shore. Taro was raised in terraces flooded by conduits from streams. Elaborate systems of water rights were evolved. A conqueror or a successor king often redistributed the lands.

Without metals, pottery, or beasts of burden, the people made implements, weapons, and utensils of stone, wood, shell, teeth, and bone, and great skill was displayed in arts and industries. Their featherwork (capes, robes, helmets, leis, kahilis) has not been excelled. Houses were of wood frames and thatched, with stone floors covered with mats. Food was cooked in holes in the ground, called imus, by means of hot stones; but many foods, including fish, were often eaten raw. Many of the best foods were taboo to women. Men usually wore only a malo, or girdle, and women a skirt of tapa, or paper cloth, or leaves or fibre, though both sometimes wore mantles thrown over the shoulders. Canoes were outrigger or double, sometimes 100 feet (30 m) long. The men were excellent sailors, fishermen, and swimmers. Their year began on November 20 and consisted of 12 lunar months, with occasionally an intercalary month.

The Hawaiians excelled in athletics. Frequent contests were held, even between champions of different islands, in surfboarding on the crests of waves, swimming, wrestling, boxing, spear throwing (at each other), coasting while standing on narrow sleds, bowling, and running. They often gambled, and they made narcotic and fermented drinks of the awa (kava) or ti roots. They were fond of music, both vocal and instrumental, and had percussion, string, and wind instruments, including a nose flute. Their dances were largely the hula of many varieties. They loved flowers, which they wore in leis around their necks and hats. The Hawaiians were also fond of oratory, poetry, history, storytelling, chants, riddles, conundrums, and proverbs. Without writing, knowledge of all sorts was preserved and taught to successive generations by persons specially trained for the purpose.

The Hawaiians held a vague belief in a future existence. They had four principal gods--Kane, Kanaloa, Ku, and Lono--and innumerable lesser gods and tutelary deities. Animals, plants, places, professions, families, and all other objects and forces had their gods or spirits. Temples of stone and idols of wood abounded, and hardly anything was undertaken without religious ceremonies. Priests and sorcerers were potent. On important occasions there were human sacrifices. There were places of refuge to which one might flee and be safe.

The Hawaiian political and religious systems were closely interwoven. During the last period before their discovery by Europeans, the nobility and priesthood tended to become more and more tyrannical, the common people more and more oppressed. The laws, chief among which were the intricate and oppressive taboos, bore heavily upon the masses, especially women, and their administration became largely a matter of arbitrariness and favouritism.

After the arrival of Christian missionaries beginning in 1820, there was a certain liberalization in government, including the abolition of the more repressive laws and taboos. However, the native population was weakened and decimated by Western diseases, and the native royal house came increasingly under the influence of American missionaries and foreign businessmen and planters. The first indentured Chinese field hands arrived in 1851, and the first Japanese in 1868; these and other foreigners eventually overwhelmed the native Hawaiians.

Hawaii, the people

Most anthropologists believe that the original settlement of Hawaii was by Polynesians who migrated northwest from the Marquesas Islands perhaps as early as AD 400, to be followed by a second wave of immigration that sailed from Tahiti during the 9th or 10th century. Once they had established themselves in Hawaii, the Hawaiians had no further need to obtain supplies from their old homeland and underwent centuries of isolation. Although there are still rather close resemblances in linguistics, physical characteristics, and general customs and life-styles between the Hawaiians and their Polynesian relatives, a degree of racial individuality evolved.

The original Hawaiians were a brown-skinned people of large stature, highly skilled in fishing and farming, who adhered to an extremely rigid and strict system of laws that was set down by their chiefs and their priests. They worshiped and feared a group of gods not unlike, in character and power, the ancient Greek deities of Mount Olympus.

The first recorded contact between the Hawaiians and Europeans took place in 1778, when Captain James Cook came upon the islands. During the ensuing four decades the influence of European and American explorers, adventurers, trappers, and whalers stopping for fresh supplies at Hawaiian islands was to have a profound effect.

Contact with people of different cultures who believed in only one god eventually brought about a spiritual revolution among the Hawaiians. In a series of defiant acts led by members of the royal family, the basic beliefs of the Hawaiian religion were undermined, and the priests were overthrown. Loss of faith in the old gods, intense interest and curiosity about the ways of the people of the United States and Europe, avid interest in learning to read and write, and a desire for spiritual identity brought about a swift adoption of Christianity on the part of the Hawaiians. The first group of Christian missionaries arrived from the United States in 1820, and by the mid-19th century the Hawaiian kingdom was largely a Christian nation.

It has been estimated that the population of the Hawaiian Islands at the time of Captain Cook's discovery was approximately 300,000. Virtually disease free, this population had no natural immunity to the diseases introduced from both West and East and fell easy prey to venereal disease, cholera, measles, bubonic plague, and leprosy, all of which contributed to the decimation of the native peoples. In 1853 the native population of the Hawaiian kingdom numbered 70,036.

The racial and religious makeup of Hawaii has undergone quite dramatic change since that time. Thousands of settlers from the Pacific Basin--primarily from Japan, the Philippines, and China--as well as immigrants from Europe and from the U.S. mainland carried their own customs, languages, and religions into the Hawaiian way of life. The descendants of these later settlers now far outnumber the descendants of the original Hawaiians. There is also a continuous influx and outflow of military and naval personnel and their dependents, connected closely to the continuing American presence in the Pacific.

Most of the state's residents live on the island of Oahu, 60 percent in the Honolulu urban area and another 20 percent in outlying districts. Because there are vast areas of Oahu devoted to agriculture and forest reserves, the majority of the population actually resides in high-density clusters. Honolulu is the only legally incorporated town or city in the state.

Hawaii is English speaking. Although Hawaiian, formerly a major means of communication, is all but extinct, it remains in place-names and street names and in songs, and the local residents liberally sprinkle their speech with words and phrases from the traditional language. A pidgin English is spoken throughout the state in varying degrees of richness, while some of the older immigrants from Japan and China continue to speak their native tongues. As Filipinos continue to move to Hawaii, their language, too, is frequently heard in the state.

The largest religious groups are Roman Catholics and Protestants. There are, however, small but important groups of Buddhists and of adherents of other Asian religions.

Hawaii cultural life

Hawaii's cultural milieu is the result of overlay after overlay of varied cultural groups. The force of the original culture remains evident in the islands, although the Hawaiian race has become diminished and diluted over the years through death and intermarriage.

Vestiges of New England culture remain, as do the cultures of the early Asian immigrants. With the advent of fifth-, sixth-, and seventh-generation descendants of Asian and Caucasian immigrants and the massive influx of Americans from all parts of the country, the cultural overlays have melded to form a uniquely Hawaiian culture.

Interest in the arts is high, and many distinguished artists, photographers, and performers have been native residents. Appreciation of classical, modern, and experimental art forms is manifest in attendance figures at galleries, concerts, legitimate theatre performances, and museums. Many ethnic groups preserve the traditions of their ancestors or combine or modify music and dance forms.

An assortment of cultural and scientific institutions in Hawaii provides a wide variety of opportunity for the appreciation and understanding of the fine arts, history, traditions, and sciences. The Bernice P. Bishop Museum, founded in 1889 in Honolulu, is a research centre and museum dedicated to the study, preservation, and display of the history, sciences, and cultures of the Pacific and its people. The Honolulu Academy of Arts, often called the most beautiful museum in the world, houses a splendid collection of Western art, including works by the late 19th- and early 20th-century masters Monet, van Gogh, Matisse, Gauguin, and Picasso. Its collection of Asian art is also one of the finest in the Western world. The active art, music, and drama departments in Hawaiian schools and colleges and at the University of Hawaii contribute to the expanding cultural life of Hawaii, while the state has several theatre organizations, professional and amateur. The Honolulu Symphony Orchestra performs concerts in Honolulu and on the other major islands. Its home is the Neal Blaisdell Center, a municipal theatre-concert-hall-arena complex, where touring opera companies and ballet troupes and musical artists of international renown also perform. Honolulu's Chamber Music Society gives a concert series each year.

Hawaii has two national parks--Hawaii Volcanoes, on the island of Hawaii, and Haleakala, on Maui, as well as the much-visited U.S.S. Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor. There are also many state and county parks, including the Waimea Canyon State Park on Kauai. Surfing originated in ancient Hawaii and is now practiced at some 1,600 recognized surf spots throughout the islands. There are also some 25 miles of beaches accessible to the public.

Theatre, entertainment

also spelled THEATER in dramatic arts, an art concerned almost exclusively with live performances in which the action is precisely planned to create a coherent and significant sense of drama.

Though the word theatre is derived from the Greek theaomai, "to see," the performance itself may appeal either to the ear or to the eye, as is suggested by the interchangeability of the terms spectator (which derives from words meaning "to view") and audience (which derives from words meaning "to hear"). Sometimes the appeal is strongly intellectual, as in Shakespeare's Hamlet, but the intellectual element in itself is no assurance of good theatre. A good performance of Hamlet, for example, is extremely difficult to achieve, and a poor one is much less rewarding than a brilliant presentation of a farce. Moreover, a good Hamlet makes demands on the spectator that may be greater than he is prepared to put forward, while the farce may be enjoyed in a condition of comparative relaxation. The full participation of the spectator is a vital element in theatre.

There is a widespread misconception that the art of theatre can be discussed solely in terms of the intellectual content of the script. Theatre is not essentially a literary art, though it has been so taught in some universities and schools. For many years the works of the Greek dramatists, Shakespeare, and other significant writers such as Schiller were more likely to be studied than performed in their entirety. The literary side of a theatrical production works most effectively when it is subordinated to the histrionic. The strongest impact on the audience is made by acting, singing, and dancing, followed by spectacle--the background against which those activities take place. Later, on reflection, the spectator may find that the meaning of the text has made the more enduring impression, but more often the literary merit of the script, or its "message," is a comparatively minor element.

Yet it is often assumed that the theatrical entertainment experience can be assimilated by reading the text of a play. In part, this is a result of the influence of theatrical critics, who, as writers, tend to have a literary orientation. Their influence is magnified by the fact that serious theatre cannot be made widely available; for each person who sees an important production, thousands of others will know it only through the notices of critics. While reviewers in the popular papers may give greater credence to such elements as acting and dancing, critics in the more serious journals may be more interested in textual and thematic values. Such influences vary from country to country, of course. In New York City a critic for one newspaper, The New York Times, may determine the fate and historical record of a production, assuring it a successful run or forcing it to close overnight. In London, audiences have notoriously resisted the will of the critics, and in some cities, such as Moscow, reviews may take many weeks to appear.

This is not to say that the contribution of the author to the theatrical experience is unimportant. The script of a play is the basic element of theatrical performance. In the case of many masterpieces it is the most important element. But even these dramatic masterpieces demand the creative cooperation of artists other than the author. The dramatic script, like an operatic score or the scenario of a ballet, is no more than the raw material from which the performance is created. The actors, rather than merely reflecting a creation that has already been fully expressed in the script, give body, voice, and imagination to what was only a shadowy indication in the text. The text of a play is as vague and incomplete in relation to a fully realized performance as is a musical score to a concert. The Hamlets of two great actors probably differ more than two virtuoso renditions of Bach's Goldberg Variations possibly can. In general, the truly memorable theatrical experience is one in which the various elements of performance are brought into a purposeful harmony. It is a performance in which the text has revealed its meanings and intentions through skillful acting in an environment designed with the appropriate measure of beauty or visual drama.

This article contains a treatment of the art of theatre in the most general terms, an attempt to illuminate what it is and why it has been regarded as a fundamental human activity throughout history. The theatrical traditions of the various cultures of the world are considered at length in articles such as theatre, history of; African arts: Literature and theatre; East Asian arts: Dance and theatre; Southeast Asian arts: The performing arts; and in articles on the literatures of various nations--e.g., English literature, Russian literature. A more extensive treatment of the elements of theatre can be found in theatrical production. The genres of dramatic literature are discussed in dramatic literature.

Symbolist movement, Symbolist theatre

Dramatists also took their lead from the French Symbolist poets, especially from MallarmŽ. As drama critic for La Derni�re Mode during the 1870s, MallarmŽ opposed the dominant Realist theatre and called for a poetic theatre that would evoke the hidden mystery of man and the universe. Drama, for MallarmŽ, should be a sacred rite in which the poet-dramatist revealed the correspondences between the visible and invisible worlds through the suggestive power of his poetic language. For the Symbolist playwright, the deeper truths of existence, known instinctively or intuitively, could not be directly expressed but only indirectly revealed through symbol, myth, and mood. The principal Symbolist playwrights were Maurice Maeterlinck in Belgium and Auguste Villiers de L'Isle-Adam and Paul Claudel in France. Also influenced by Symbolist beliefs were the Swedish playwright August Strindberg and the Irish poet and dramatist W.B. Yeats.

Noteworthy examples of Symbolist theatre include Villiers de L'Isle-Adam's Ax‘l (first performed 1884; definitive edition 1890), Maeterlinck's PellŽas et MŽlisande (1892), with its dreamlike atmosphere, and the highly satirical Ubu roi (1896) by Alfred Jarry. In 1890 the French poet Paul Fort founded the Theatre d'Art, where Symbolist dramas were presented along with readings from ancient and modern poetry. When Fort retired in 1892 AurŽlien LugnŽ-Po‘ continued Symbolist production at his ThŽ‰tre de l'Oeuvre well into the 20th century. Though Symbolist theatre did not last long as a unified movement, its sharp break with the realistic tradition along with its reliance on fantasy, atmosphere, and mood influenced 20th-century playwrights and theatrical production.

Dance as dramatic expression or abstract form, the debate in the West

In Western theatre-dance traditions, notably ballet and modern dance, the most recurrent clash of principles has been over the question of expression. Theatre dance generally falls into two categories: that which is purely formal, or dedicated to the perfection of style and display of skill, and that which is dramatic, or dedicated to the expression of emotion, character, and narrative action. In the early French and Italian ballets of the 16th and 17th centuries, dance was only a part of huge spectacles involving singing, recitation, instrumental music, and elaborate stage design. Although such spectacles were loosely organized around a story or theme, the dance movement itself was largely formal and ornamental, with only a very limited range of mime gestures to convey the action. As dance itself became more virtuosic and ballet began to emerge as a proper theatrical art form, the technical prowess of the dancers became the major focus of interest. Ballet developed into a miscellaneous collection of short pieces inserted, almost at random, into the middle of an opera with no other function than to show off the dancers' skills. In Lettres sur la danse et sur les ballets (1760; Letters on Dancing and Ballets) Jean-Georges Noverre, the great French choreographer and ballet master, deplored this development. He argued that dance is meaningless unless it has some dramatic and expressive content and that movement should become more natural and accommodate a wider range of expression: "I think . . . this art has remained in its infancy only because its effects have been limited, like those of fireworks designed simply to gratify the eyes. . . . No one has suspected its power of speaking to the heart."

During the great Romantic period of ballet in the first half of the 19th century, Noverre's dream of the ballet d'action was fulfilled as ballet, now a completely independent art form, occupied itself with dramatic themes and emotions. But by the late 19th century the importance attached to virtuosity at the expense of expressiveness had again become an issue. In 1914 the Russian-born choreographer Michel Fokine argued for reform on lines similar to those of Noverre, asserting that "the art of the older ballet turned its back on life and . . . shut itself up in a narrow circle of traditions." Fokine insisted that "dancing and mimetic gesture have no meaning in a ballet unless they serve as an expression of its dramatic action, and they must not be used as a mere divertissement or entertainment, having no connection with the scheme of the whole ballet."

Outside the ballet companies, exponents of modern dance in Europe and the United States were also arguing that ballet expressed nothing of the inner life and emotions, for its stories were childish fantasies and its technique was too artificial to be expressive. Martha Graham, whose commitment to dramatic content was so strong that she often referred to her dance works as dramas, created a new style of movement to express what she saw as the psychological and social condition of modern man: "Life today is nervous, sharp, and zig-zag. It often stops in mid-air. That is what I aim for in my dances. The old balletic forms could not give it voice."

In the decades between the world wars, Graham, Mary Wigman, and Doris Humphrey established the school of Expressionist modern dance, which was characterized by serious subject matter and highly dramatic movement. Other choreographers, such as Merce Cunningham and George Balanchine, argued that such close concern with dramatic expression could hamper the development of dance as an art form. Balanchine argued that "the ballet is such a rich art form that it should not be an illustrator of even the most interesting, even the most meaningful literary primary source. The ballet will speak for itself and about itself." The works of these choreographers emphasized formal structure and development of choreography rather than plot, character, or emotion. Partly as a result of their influence, the "abstract," or plotless, ballet became popular among choreographers during the decades after World War II.

Dance as a nonverbal language

At the centre of much debate have been the questions how dance can express emotions and actions in any detailed way and whether it can be thought of as a kind of language. Cultural conventions partly determine the limits of expression. For example, the classical dance of India has more than 4,000 mudras, or gestures through which the dancer portrays complex actions, emotions, and relationships; these gestures are comprehensible to the audience because they have always been at the centre of Indian life and cultural traditions. In classical ballet, however, the vocabulary of mimed gesture is quite small and is comprehensible to only a few informed spectators, thus considerably limiting its expressive range. Referring to the practical impossibility of communicating, through dance, the complex plots and relationships between characters that are common in the spoken theatre, Balanchine once remarked, "There are no mothers-in-law in ballet."

While dance cannot communicate specific events or ideas, it is a universal language that can communicate emotions directly and sometimes more powerfully than words. The French poet StŽphane MallarmŽ declared that the dancer, "writing with her body, . . . suggests things which the written work could express only in several paragraphs of dialogue or descriptive prose." Because dance movements are closely related to the gestures of ordinary life, the emotions they express can be immediately understood, partly through a visual appreciation of the gesture and partly through a sympathetic kinesthetic response. Thus, when a dancer leaps, the spectators understand it as a sign of exhilaration, and they feel something of the lifting and tightening sensations that excitement produces in the body. In the same way, if a dancer's body is twisted or contracted, they feel an echo of the knotted sensation of pain.

Of course, even the gestures of ordinary life are inherited from cultural conventions. A smile or a wave of the hand can, in certain non-Western cultures, be taken as a sign of aggression rather than welcome. In the same way, how spectators interpret dance movements depends on the context in which those movements occur and on the particular spectator who interprets them. A fall may signify despair in one context, or to one person, and a sinking into ecstasy in another.

The distinction between abstract and expressive dance is also a highly artificial one, becoming a clear distinction in critical theory but certainly not in actual performance. In even the most dramatic and mimetic dance, the movement is highly stylized and subjected to an abstract aesthetic principle. The structure of the piece is determined as much by formal considerations as by the narrative events. On the other hand, even the most abstract work expresses some emotion or character relationship simply because it is performed by people rather than neutral objects, and often the most highly elaborate dance pattern has some representational function.

Changes in attitude toward dance

Critics have argued the question of abstraction and expression largely in relation to theatre dance and also on the assumption that dance is a serious art form. Within recent history, however, this assumption was not always held. In late 19th-century Europe, outside Russia and Denmark, dance was generally regarded as mere entertainment with little aesthetic value. Attitudes to dance both as an art form and as a social activity have, in fact, varied dramatically throughout history. In cultures where it had, or still possesses, religious significance, it is treated with great respect. The ancient Greeks also took dance very seriously, both as an integral part of their drama--which had strong political and social significance--and as part of education. Plato wrote in the Laws that "to sing well and to dance well is to be well educated. Noble dances should confer on the student not only health and agility and beauty, but also goodness of the soul and a well-balanced mind." Aristotle believed that dance was useful for "purging the young soul of unseemly emotions and preparing for the worthy enjoyment of leisure."

The Romans generally looked down on dance as effeminate and decadent. The historian Sallust remarked of a citizen's wife that "she played and danced more gracefully than a respectable woman should." The early Christian leaders took a similar view and tried to repress pagan dance customs wherever they could. This action has been attributed to the Christian belief that the body, being the unworthy vessel of the soul, should not be indulged by any kind of sensual pleasure or display. The attitude was not completely dominant, though, and some leaders felt that sober and decent dances could play an important role in religious worship. In the 4th century St. Basil asked, "Could there be anything more blessed than to imitate on earth the ring-dance of the angels?" Processional, circle, and line dances were included in many church services and can still be seen in some services in Toledo and Seville, Spain.

At the time of the Renaissance, when the hold of the church on secular life loosened, dance became popular at court (the church had never been successful at repressing dance among the peasants). It became an essential part of every courtier's education to be able to dance and move gracefully, and this was a time, too, when many performed in amateur court ballets. In England dancing was so popular among all classes that foreign ambassadors spoke of the people as the "dancing English."

During the 17th century the Puritans were more effective at stamping out the most exuberant and pagan of English dance customs, though among the upper classes it was still considered proper for young children to learn to dance, in order, as the philosopher John Locke put it, to instill "a becoming confidence" in them. In America the hold of the Puritans was even stronger, and many leaders frowned upon any kind of dance, recreational or otherwise, as idle and lascivious. Others saw it as a necessary part of education, providing that it was sober and serious. The most prominent exception to pious disapproval of dance was the Shaker sect, which, while prospering in the United States during the 18th and 19th centuries, developed choreographed dances as part of its worship service. The dances often represented quite complex religious themes. One figure, the wheel within a wheel, which was made up of circles turning in alternate directions around a central chorus of singers, represented the all-embracing nature of the Gospel; the outer ring of dancers represented the ultimate circle of truth, while the central chorus symbolized the harmony and perfection of God that is at the centre of life.

Gradually, dance as a means of physical education and entertainment became more popular in the United States. Folk dancing and social dancing were encouraged, and by the 20th century theatre dance, too, began to lose its disreputable taint.

Certainly in the Western world, dance as an art form has never been as popular as it is today, with a wide range of choreographic styles and genres attracting large audiences. As a form of recreation it has also undergone a massive revival, for while many of the folk traditions have been lost, some have been carefully revived and are widely enjoyed. In Asia and Africa many traditional dances have been transferred from the community, where they were dying out, to the theatre. This has brought about a rapid growth in their popularity, both in their places of origin and in the West, where they attract large audiences and are also studied.

Mask, theatrical entertainment uses

Masks have been used almost universally to represent characters in theatrical performances. Theatrical performances are a visual literature of a transient, momentary kind. It is most impressive because it can be seen as a reality; it expends itself by its very revelation. The mask participates as a more enduring element, since its form is physical.

The mask as a device for theatre first emerged in Western civilization from the religious practices of ancient Greece. In the worship of Dionysus, god of fecundity and the harvest, the communicants' attempt to impersonate the deity by donning goatskins and by imbibing wine eventually developed into the sophistication of masking. When a literature of worship appeared, a disguise, which consisted of a white linen mask hung over the face (a device supposedly initiated by Thespis, a 6th-century-BC poet who is credited with originating tragedy), enabled the leaders of the ceremony to make the god manifest. Thus symbolically identified, the communicant was inspired to speak in the first person, thereby giving birth to the art of drama. In Greece the progress from ritual to ritual-drama was continued in highly formalized theatrical representations. Masks used in these productions became elaborate headpieces made of leather or painted canvas and depicted an extensive variety of personalities, ages, ranks, and occupations. Heavily coiffured and of a size to enlarge the actor's presence, the Greek mask seems to have been designed to throw the voice by means of a built-in megaphone device and, by exaggeration of the features, to make clear at a distance the precise nature of the character. Moreover, their use made it possible for the Greek actors--who were limited by convention to three speakers for each tragedy--to impersonate a number of different characters during the play simply by changing masks and costumes. Details from frescoes, mosaics, vase paintings, and fragments of stone sculpture that have survived to the present day provide most of what is known of the appearance of these ancient theatrical masks. The tendency of the early Greek and Roman artists to idealize their subjects throws doubt, however, upon the accuracy of these reproductions. In fact, some authorities maintain that the masks of the ancient theatre were crude affairs with little aesthetic appeal.

In the Middle Ages, masks were used in the mystery plays of the 12th to the 16th century. In plays dramatizing portions of the Old and New Testaments, grotesques of all sorts, such as devils, demons, dragons, and personifications of the seven deadly sins, were brought to stage life by the use of masks. Constructed of papier-m‰chŽ, the masks of the mystery plays were evidently marvels of ingenuity and craftsmanship, being made to articulate and to belch fire and smoke from hidden contrivances. But again, no reliable pictorial record has survived. Masks used in connection with present-day carnivals and Mardi Gras and those of folk demons and characters still used by central European peasants, such as the Perchten masks of Alpine Austria, are most likely the inheritors of the tradition of medieval masks.

The 15th-century Renaissance in Italy witnessed the rise of a theatrical phenomenon that spread rapidly to France, to Germany, and to England, where it maintained its popularity into the 18th century. Comedies improvised from scenarios based upon the domestic dramas of the ancient Roman comic playwrights Plautus (254?-184 BC) and Terence (186/185-159 BC) and upon situations drawn from anonymous ancient Roman mimes flourished under the title of commedia dell'arte. Adopting the Roman stock figures and situations to their own usages, the players of the commedia were usually masked. Sometimes the masking was grotesque and fanciful, but generally a heavy leather mask, full or half face, disguised the commedia player. Excellent pictorial records of both commedia costumes and masks exist; some sketches show the characters of Arlecchino and Colombina wearing black masks covering merely the eyes, from which the later masquerade mask is certainly a development.

Except for vestiges of the commedia in the form of puppet and marionette shows, the drama of masks all but disappeared in Western theatre during the 18th, 19th, and first half of the 20th centuries. In modern revivals of ancient Greek plays, masks have occasionally been employed, and such highly symbolic plays as Die versunkene Glocke (The Sunken Bell; 1897) by the German Gerhart Hauptmann (1862-1946) and dramatizations of Alice in Wonderland have required masks for the performers of grotesque or animal figures. The Irish poet-playwright W.B. Yeats (1865-1939) revived the convention in his Dreaming of the Bones and in other plays patterned upon the Japanese No drama. In 1926 theatregoers in the United States witnessed a memorable use of masks in The Great God Brown by the American dramatist Eugene O'Neill (1888-1953), wherein actors wore masks of their own faces to indicate changes in the internal and external lives of their characters. Oskar Schlemmer (1888-1943), a German artist associated with the Bauhaus, became interested in the late 1920s and '30s in semantic phenomenology as applied to the design of masks for theatrical productions. Modern art movements are often reflected in the design of contemporary theatrical masks. The stylistic concepts of Cubism and Surrealism, for example, are apparent in the masks executed for a 1957 production of La favola del figlio cambiato (The Fable of the Transformed Son) by the Italian dramatist Luigi Pirandello (1867-1936). A well-known mid-century play using masks was Les N�gres (1958; The Blacks, 1960) by the French writer Jean Genet. The mask, however, has unquestionably lost its importance as a theatrical convention in the 20th century, and its appearance in modern plays is unusual.

In many ways akin to Greek drama in origin and theme, the No drama of Japan has remained a significant part of national life since its beginnings in the 14th century. No masks, of which there are about 125 named varieties, are rigidly traditional and are classified into five general types: old persons (male and female), gods, goddesses, devils, and goblins. The material of the No mask is wood with a coating of plaster, which is lacquered and gilded. Colours are traditional. White is used to characterize a corrupt ruler; red signifies a righteous man; a black mask is worn by the villain, who epitomizes violence and brutality. No masks are highly stylized and generally characterized. They are exquisitely carved by highly respected artists known as tenka-ichi, "the first under heaven." Shades of feeling are portrayed with beautifully sublimated realism. When the masks are subtly moved by the player's hand or body motion, their expression appears to change.

In Tibet, sacred dramas are performed by masked lay actors. A play for exorcising demons called the "Dance of the Red Tiger Devil" is performed at fixed seasons of the year exclusively by the priests or lamas wearing awe-inspiring masks of deities and demons. Masks employed in this mystery play are made of papier-m‰chŽ, cloth, and occasionally gilt copper. In the Indian state of Sikkim and in Bhutan, where wood is abundant and the damp climate is destructive to paper, they are carved of durable wood. All masks of the Himalayan peoples are fantastically painted and are usually provided with wigs of yak tail in various colours. Formally they often emphasize the hideous.

Masks, usually made of papier-mache, are employed in the religious or admonitory drama of China; but for the greater part the actors in popular or secular drama make up their faces with cosmetics and paint to resemble masks, as do the Kabuki actors in Japan. The makeup mask both identifies the particular character and conveys his personality. The highly didactic sacred drama of China is performed with the actors wearing fanciful and grotesque masks. Akin to this "morality" drama are the congratulatory playlets, pageants, processions, and dances of China. Masks employed in these ceremonies are highly ornamented, with jewelled and elaborately filigreed headgears. In the lion and dragon dances of both China and Japan, a stylized mask of the beast is carried on a pole by itinerant players, whose bodies are concealed by a dependent cloth. The mask and cloth are manipulated violently, as if the animal were in pursuit, to the taps of a small drum. The mask's lower jaw is movable and made to emit a loud continuous clacking by means of a string.

On Java and Bali, wooden masks, tupeng, are used in certain theatrical performances called wayang wong. These dance dramas developed from the shadow puppet plays of the 18th century and are performed not only as amusement but as a safeguard against calamities. The stories are in part derived from ancient Sanskrit literature, especially the Hindu epics, although the Javanese later became Muslims. The brightly painted masks are made of wood and leather and are often fitted with horsehair and metallic or gilded paper accoutrements. They are ordinarily held in the teeth by means of a strap of leather or rattan that has been fastened across the inside. Occasionally an actor interrupts the unseen narrator, the Dalang, who is speaking the play. The mask is then held in front of the face while the player says his line. The use of theatrical masks in Java is exceptional, since masks, being forbidden under the prohibition of images, are practically unknown in the Islamic world.

In the 20th century, with the breaking down of primitive and folk cultures, the mask has increasingly become a decorative object, although it has long been used in art as an ornamental device. In Haiti, India, Indonesia, Japan, Kenya, and Mexico, masks are produced largely for tourists. The collecting of old masks has been a part of the current interest in so-called primitive and folk arts. Masks also have exerted a decided influence on modern art movements, especially in the first decades of the 20th century, when painters in France and Germany found a source of inspiration in the tribal masks of Africa and western Oceania.

Theatrical entertainment production

the planning, rehearsal, and presentation of a work. Such a work is presented to an audience at a particular time and place by live performers, who use either themselves or inanimate figures, such as puppets, as the medium of presentation. A theatrical production can be either dramatic or nondramatic, depending upon the activity presented.

While dramatic productions frequently conform to a written text, it is not the use of such a text but rather the fictional mimetic (from Greek mimesis, "imitation," "representation") nature of the performer's behaviour that makes a work dramatic. For example, a person walking a tightrope is performing an acrobatic act, whereas a person who pretends to be an acrobat walking a tightrope is performing a dramatic act. Both performers are engaged in theatrical presentation, but only the latter is involved in the creation of dramatic illusion. Though a dramatic performance may include dancing, singing, juggling, acrobatics, or other nondramatic elements, it is concerned mainly with the representation of actual or imagined life.

In nondramatic theatrical productions there is no imitation of "another existence" but simply the entertainment or excitation of the audience by the performer. Whether acrobatic or musical, gestural or vocal, such activity is theatrical because it is presented by a live performer to an audience, but it remains nondramatic so long as it has a purely presentational quality rather than a representational one.

In any single theatrical production, one or another type of activity may so prevail that there is little difficulty in determining the aesthetic nature of the final work. A play by the 19th-century Norwegian dramatist Henrik Ibsen, with its depiction of middle-class behaviour, minimizes nondramatic activity; the recital of a song by the 19th-century Romantic composer Franz Schubert, by contrast, with its emphasis upon musical values, may ignore dramatic elements and, to a considerable extent, even the act of presentation itself. Between these two extremes, however, there are many types of theatrical production in which the aesthetic nature of the form is less simple. Opera, for example, employs both drama and music in shifting patterns of emphasis.

In Europe and the United States several forms arose in the 20th century that combine dramatic and nondramatic material. Vaudeville, or music hall, for instance, employs a succession of various acts, such as fictional sketches, musical and dance numbers, and feats of dexterity, of which some are representational and others are not. In the musical theatre, song and dance serve both to further the narrative and to provide a break from purely dramatic presentation. This variety also characterizes much of Oriental theatre, in which dramatic moments are elaborated in dancelike exhibitions. In light of these examples, the definition of what constitutes theatrical production must remain elastic.