# The Art Of Recitation And Declamation

## GA 281

### Decline and Rebuilding: A Linguistic Observation

When one hears a Madonna or a goddess speaking from the stage today, one can hardly believe one's ears. Not the slightest attempt is made to free language from the triviality of everyday life; nor is there the slightest attempt to use language to soar to a higher sphere. Every path to the spirit is barred to the stage of today; nowhere does access open to these strange, closed worlds; not even the most modest. One does not even strive to let something of the background from which unearthly figures emerge show through in the language. Real spirituality is a lost concept. A washerwoman at her trough could speak just as these Madonnas do, who are placed on pedestals in many miracle plays – devoid of all divine-spiritual content. Language is so uncultivated, so rough and prosaic, that it hurts, it offends. This is not meant to be disparaging in any way about the way the washerwoman speaks; it is justified in her case. Her difficult profession makes it necessary for her voice to become rough and hard, and her struggle with the material world must make her coarse if she does not have a counterweight in anthroposophy or religion. But the Madonna in the heavenly realms does not need to pursue such a hard physical occupation there. She should still have some atmosphere about her when she stands on the stage pedestal; some radiance, some transparency, some spirituality should resonate in her voice. The speakers should know how to make a voice sound detached and floating from afar. The figure that is presented to us is a symbol of something that reaches up to heaven and brings us its gifts from there, radiating light and spherical tones into us.

And then - the heavenly hosts! Have you ever heard them speak on stage or behind the scenes? Goethe's archangel, for example, and “the Lord”?.. Any couch potato could speak like that and any business traveler. Dry, sober, business-like, very matter-of-fact... But spiritual backgrounds, spheres of spheres, aeon steps... they are missing. “The sun sounds in the brotherly spheres of the ancient way of singing...” there is not much left of that.

But that is what must be sought, striven for, conquered today. Step by step one must feel, hear and sense one's way to it - constantly struggling and never being satisfied - until one breaks through intellectualistic boundaries, clears obstacles of matter out of the way, overcomes narrowness and finds oneself outside, liberated and redeemed. Those who are happy “to find earthworms” do not go beyond themselves, do not discover that they are also an “air man” who dominates the physical man and can use him without being chained to him. He does not find the healing power of the word, the momentum, the luminosity that allows him to grasp the core of his being and carry him over to where he came from. On the wings of the word, he can again seek out the paths that he senses when he places himself back in the word's original powers. I, living breath, center of divinity... that is where the word can lead him back.

And let us look around us in the realms of denser spirituality, which poetry wants to open up to us, in the world of the elements, for example. What keys are given to us today through art, this child of the gods, to open up those realms to us? None at all. Reason and temperament should suffice for everything. One blunders along without having an inkling of the wise mastery of the means of art through the knowledge of our human organization, of the laws that are revelations of divine-creative artistic power, of which man and the earth are the representatives for us. Should we not at last seek to trace the paths the gods have used to create works of art in their own image, and then breathe life into them? Let us enter these paths with our groping consciousness, softly at first and reverently, and let us begin to trace the living breath that gives us the reason for our existence, here as there. When we penetrate into the word - into its essence, we enter these paths. Could there be a more glorious task?

But one must begin with spelling, with the basic elements: the sounds. Not with the pressing forces of our one-sided personality. I saw Shakespeare's “Tempest” on a large stage in Germany. There was no sense of the spirituality of the elements. There was a lot of noise, temper and shouting. The Caliban scenes were extended and exaggerated in a realistic way, far beyond the limits that Shakespeare assigned to them. And Ariel? There was no airiness or lightness of being. A heavy, strong, robust voice, a stocky figure, lots of jumping and shouting. The heaviness of the squat little body was not alleviated by those jumps; the shaggy, disheveled head was the opposite of radiant. Ariel! Is there not a lightness in this word, a radiance, a flying, ringing, floating, airy bliss? Soon after, I saw the same actress as Salome in Hebbel's “Herod and Mariamne.” Then I realized that she had talent because her physique supported her in this role. The dark, heavy voice, the hard, lurking look, the stocky figure, heavily inclined towards the earth – she became the most interesting figure in Hebbel's colorfully heavy play, this ominous Salome-Herodias, while Mariamne was too consciously cool, powerfully intelligent and feminist. Maccabees? Oh no, she is very northern German in character.

When will the actors find the way out of their one-sided minds to the sources that open up the epochs, the races, the elements and the spiritual world to them? They will wither away if they do not find these ways. Nerves driven to the extreme snap, consumption is not interesting for long and in any case not productive; when it becomes fashionable and a mannerism, it is repulsive. There are already more and more voices saying that theater will have to abdicate before film.

I once saw a performance of Iphigenia. It was an event for me; it had something fateful about it, because it could not go on like this; this had been taken to the extreme and had to break. It had to break where the driving forces behind these excesses are and the counterforces are called upon. I do not want to talk so much about Iphigenia herself; she was just terribly boring and banal and expressed the blasé and dull emptiness of the hollowed-out salon lady, who has nothing else to do but walk up and down in her park and be bothered by the one boring suitor. I do not want to dwell on the boxer figure of this admirer either, although with his drooping, naked, muscular arms and his bare bull's neck, he wanted to say, as it were: “Now take my measurements, you won't find a more capable guy...” I also don't remember that anything else would have been said from his words, in any case nothing royal. But Orestes! This Orestes!

It was clear that only one thought had inspired him: to be different from all Orestes that had existed before – and to excel in the trivial. Because – isn't it true that when you're a tramp, you just happen to have copper-red skin, a wild, unkempt shock of hair that's an indefinable color of dust, and a hoarse and flat and tinny voice... Orest is also possessed, and you construct from the intellect what it's like to be possessed: the thoughts are tearing - aren't they - the nerves are aching, you are nervous, you don't want to be touched; everything is disgusting... Such a sophisticated realistic mental image is as true from the inside out as a billiard ball would be if it spoke; from the outside, it looks like a neglected tramp, the kind you might meet on some country road in Russia... But wait, such a thought could have an inspiring effect: Tauris Krim - Russia - obsessed tramps... that provides analogies. Today, one hardly takes a much broader view. In contrast, Tantalus, the Greek hero... that is outdated, has been done too often. And iambic pentameter, the metrical measure... the noble cadence of language... long outdated.

We were told how Maximilian Harden's journalistic cartographies had begun with the editor of the Monday edition of the “Berliner Tageblatt” having a number of young people as his employees, to whom he said: “You do nothing all week but sit in the coffee houses and read all the newspapers you can get hold of, and then you have to write me an article for Monday that is different from anything you have read on the same subject.” — It is said that this best describes Maximilian Harden.

If something similar was the driving motive for that Orest actor, then one would have an explanation for his bizarre and inartistic idea, otherwise not. Although his novelty consisted only in taking to the extreme what had already been achieved in naturalistic intellectualism and in applying a realistically nervous obsession with reduction to a pinnacle of German intellectual achievement. The noblest, most flawless, most perfect creation of German literary art: Goethe's “Iphigenia” in its Roman version, this work was trampled, quite ruthlessly and brutally; and anyone who felt sympathy for such a thing felt trampled along with it. One emerged from such a performance laden with responsibility; for here it was a matter of saving the highest spiritual values.

Around this time, our destiny shaper left us, and he also showed art the new paths to healing. He spanned the shimmering arc over the abyss of modern spiritlessness to the beyond; he built and formed and ignited and sprayed, leaving his work to us in a thousand and one precious stones. In full awareness of our responsibility, we now gather together these gems of his spiritual heritage.

They will continue to bless and ennoble people for thousands of years, and today they will serve us like the magic key that opens closed doors, revives the dead, heals the sick, atones for evil - if we are of good will. All these scattered gems can become a magic key – even if they are still as fragmented as they appear to our eyes in these highly inadequate transcripts of three magnificent lectures. For seven years they have been there, unexcavated for a larger public, because the shortcomings of the transcript were too obvious. And yet there is still so much of the richness left that a rebirth of the theater is possible on this soil.

Every spoken word must be taken in its full value and in its context, and a basis for understanding must be created through the will to gain an overall knowledge of the human and divine world. Rudolf Steiner calls the guidelines he has given us here. He has opened up worlds for us with them.

These lectures can be signposts to those subtler areas of art to which access has been lost today, buried by materialism. The intimacies of the soul life, secrets of the human organization in their connections with the secrets of the cosmos, form the basis for these reflections, which seek to be nothing more than starting points for further penetration through constant work and inner experience. They are only outlined here because of the limited space available; but they are intended to inspire and awaken and can call forth the artist's powers to independent life. They were given as part of a whole complex of lectures that had one goal: to lead out of the destructive forces of our time into new light and to recovery! This was Rudolf Steiner's deed, and even if hostile forces might think that with the paralysis of his public activity, with the burning of the Goetheanum, with his physical death, the work of his life has been stopped or even destroyed, they are mistaken, because the future-saving seeds are there and are working everywhere, even if the outer form breaks.

Preparing and building this future required tireless work, the strength of a superhuman and the sealing through sacrifice. In the midst of a restless working life, one of the highlights of Rudolf Steiner's work was the opening of the Goetheanum as a School of Spiritual Science. It was a time of upheaval and social turmoil, of economic collapse. Even though the artistic works were not all completed, the building could be handed over to its purpose, the work to its goals. For three years, the building served this work: the renewal of humanity in the spirit. Then it burnt down on New Year's Eve. The dignity of the celebration was given to the act of destruction; the greatness of the annual cycle to the historical event. Thus the building was sealed into the cosmos and the course of time when it was snatched from earthly activity.

These lectures form part of the university courses, which could not be absent from the opening ceremony, because they were more than an integral part. For Steiner, the word was the basis of all that is happening. The word was the starting point and center and goal of all becoming and all unsealing. But Rudolf Steiner did not use big words only veiled in mystery; he led to them through recognition and through grasping. What he opened up became perception, became conscious comprehension and action. One was allowed to climb the first rungs of the ladder under his guidance. Then he handed us over to freedom. His word in us was to become daring and deed.

Art was never absent from the events that originated with Rudolf Steiner. We were to approach it with insight, to bring it to fruition with reverence, and to remember its origin. It was an essential component of cosmic worship; it originated in the threefold logos; at the altars of truth, beauty and strength, it served and sacrificed. It has preserved its divine connection for the longest time, through the rationalist ages. In the age of triviality, its divine childhood sank into the physical; the victory of mechanics tore it away from its spiritual sources and chained it to the machine.

It must be redeemed again. The aim of the House of Language – as Rudolf Steiner called the Goetheanum – was to lead art, science and religion out of the separation into which they had fallen and back to their original unity. In the spiritual deepening and mutual fertilization of art, science and religion, Rudolf Steiner saw a remedy that could effectively intervene in the social life of humanity, so that barbarism could be avoided and, instead of the already scientifically proven twilight of European culture arising out of need, misery and error, a new dawn could arise.

The deeply moving words in which he expresses this aspiration clearly show the important role he ascribes to spiritualized art in the reconstruction of higher human culture, and should therefore appear in this book together with the lectures on the arts of oratory.

The house that served these purposes, offering a warm welcome to every guest in free openness, no longer stands. In its place rises a castle-like building made of the austere material of our time, concrete. His creator, who has since passed away, breathed life into it; this ennobles it and gives it its significance. The mystery plays, Rudolf Steiner's dramatic creations, are to be performed there. These place the human being back into his spiritual-cosmic context, make him a citizen of the world, and explain his present personality from his previous earthly lives. Through these dramas, humanity will be able to learn to recognize itself, to experience itself and to renew itself. There, above all, eurythmy is to be cultivated, that art which Rudolf Steiner placed as a new art in the series of the older arts that preceded it, the outer visible moving form of language, which imperatively and compellingly demands the renewal of the art of language, of the artistically spoken word. Rudolf Steiner called for an orchestral interaction between the spoken word and the eurythmic gesture, and this had to be achieved in practice. When what we were doing met his requirements, he gave us an understanding of what we were doing, shone a light into the secrets of the art of speech and poetry, and thus released us from the unbearable.

We are under no illusion that the world will yet show much understanding for this endeavor. We would even understand if some honest seekers were to throw this book aside in the first instance, in desperation and despair. A transformation of consciousness is necessary to tread this path, and one has indeed wanted to keep art away from the penetration of consciousness. Only a consciousness that sees, hears and wills leads us today to true artistic experience and snatches poetic language from the abstract intellectualization and mechanization to which it has already fallen.

If we have become accustomed to accepting what is offered in this direction from the stage, we have no idea what can be suffered when the noblest works of poetry are presented to us in such a mutilated, mistreated, and desecrated state, as happens all too often today.

It is as if the gods were turning away in anger from what we have done with their gifts. They have given us everything, withholding nothing; works have been created of incredible height and purity and formal perfection; the German language has become a tool of the subtlest power and suppleness, to grasp the vastness and depth of being and to unlock the inner being... It is still versatile and pliable and capable of growing beyond itself, thus carrying humanity forward... But those who lead it to this destiny, purposefully and unwaveringly, will be stoned.

Those who trivialize and sensationalize it, on the other hand, are considered masters.

The possibilities of the German language in the contouring and transcendence of its conceptual formulations are matched in another way by the plasticity and permeability of its phonetic elements. It is not musical in the usual sense, not on the surface – you you have to have an inner ear for it – but it has so many shades, lights, veils, brightenings and flashes that with its help you can repeatedly push through the boundaries of meaning: from the other side, from over there, it sounds through its umlauts, its diphthongs, whispers in the consonant connections, sounds in the flowing swings of its sentence structure. One has no inkling of the artistic experience that language can be until one has learned to listen from within, until the spiritual and intellectual resonance has been transformed into the formation of the 'sound, into the flight of movement.

Today's world is a realization of the intellectual; it does not go beyond the mechanical-mathematical; it does not find the way into the imaginative, into the formation of legends. One no longer manages to form images because one has become an intellectual abstraction. It is much easier to think cleverly than to create picturesquely, because the intellectual emanates from the personal, and artistic creation requires much more selflessness. It submerges into the object instead of imagining it, letting itself be carried away by it instead of holding on to it. We lose our real connection with the world, we deprive people of the immortal by living in intellectualism. Pictorial design not only works on the intellectual, but on the whole person; it goes into much deeper layers of the soul life than conceptual thinking. By trying to speak in pictures, what is atomized by studying the subject matter is synthesized again. It is moved up into the sphere of the imagination, where it is vividly dissolved and musically inspired. In this way it approaches what is eternal in the soul, what stands behind the intellectual. Through speech inspired by the imagination, we lead people to the substantial content of the word, to the supersensible, to the creative word that streams out of the supersensible. Immortal soul life is awakened when we speak from the image, from the artistic; immortal soul life is conquered when we work from the intellectual.