EUGENIO DE GIORGI - Olmetto Theatre in Milan - Autumn Term 2008

We were fortunate enough to be honoured by a visit from this prominent figure of contemporary Italian theatre. He runs the Olmetto Theatre in Milan with a company that has performed a huge variety of pieces to great acclaim. However, De Giorgi himself initially trained in the traditional Commedia dell’ Arte, and his work is still heavily influenced by this style. This is precisely the genre he explained to his rapt, riveted audience, roaring with laughter.

Select here and here, to view clips from the day.

Commedia dell’ Arte is the traditional Italian theatre, from which for example Punch and Judy derived. Troupes of actors would tour the peninsula as far as back as Renaissance, putting on their plays in the villages and towns they passed. The troupes were free to improvise on storylines but the basic premise of the genre revolved around a group of immutable characters, with whom the audience was familiar. Thus, all productions were combinations of: the two Lovers and Arlecchino (a sprightly servant who revels in undermining his master), Colombina (a servant girl who revels in drawing attention to herself then repudiating all advances) and Pantalone (a wheezy, cranky master and father who revels in his wealth and fails continuously to attract Colombina and outwit Arlecchino).

Each character, apart from the Lovers, also had its own mask and associated characteristics to distinguish him/her. Nonetheless, as de Giorgi insisted, the true art is not in exaggerating incredible caricatures, but to create recognisable and believable figures. Thus, for example, he demonstrated how he might convey Pantalone: toes pointing out, knees slightly bent, hands clasped behind his back, back constantly poker straight and chin jutted forward ridiculously. He explained how the reality of this pose was in its subtlety, that is to say all these features must not be exaggerated, and so, if executed correctly, conveys the physical restriction of his age, because for example his hands were clasped at exactly such a height that his arms were neither being pulled down, nor so that they were being strained by holding up his arms. From this basic pose he then shuffled with tiny steps, and even when he was running he would only accelerate rather than increase the spacing of his steps. This was in order to convey the immobility of his old age. He would also mutter under his breath, wheeze loudly in the place of his normal breathing, and laugh shrilly, screeching in a piercing and almost fierce cacophony, while rubbing his hands greedily. However, he would only truly bring the house down when he would turn around – an elaborate procedure depending on a nigh impossible pivot, first turning his head out to the audience as he carried on walking across the stage horizontally, then gradually reducing his steps until he was pacing on the spot, then eventually his shoulders and torso would follow to face the audience, before walking towards us again with that impeccable shuffle.

In this way, he demonstrated how to act through a mask, which logically deprives the actor almost completely of facial expression, by heightening pose, voice and movement.

Next, De Giorgi made another fascinating point. He himself was obviously performing to an English audience, so he explained his demonstrations at best in broken English. Similarly, when the Commedia dell’ Arte arose, the differences in regional Italian dialects rendered travelling troupes practically incomprehensible to the majority of their audiences. Thus, the actor’s vocal tone, speed, pitch and breathing had to express their intended meaning, rather than expression through dialogue.

To demonstrate this, he flawlessly imitated immediately recognisable Germans, Frenchmen and Englishmen in conversation, without speaking a word of the respective languages. Astoundingly, merely by changing the pitch of his voice, changing the tone to a smoother one, inserting a few well-timed and deliberate purring “Er…”, we could all identify a Frenchman with ease.

All this left me wondering how it might be possible to similarly represent an Italian. Strangely, the best I could come up with was De Giorgi himself, with his booming. lyrical voice, charismatic presence exuding confidence as he stood calmly in the wings, surveying his audience-to-be, head tilted to one side until he finally came to life, propelled by his emphatic gesticulation to bound across the stage with exuberance, vivacity and flamboyance.

Zofia Bakowska Y13