Bertolt Brecht: Mutter Courage und ihre Kinder 6
[GW Schriften zum Theater, pp. 1167–8. This is the section bearing specifically on Puntila from the general essay ‘Notes on the Folk Play’ (or ‘People’s Play’), written in 1940, which will be included in Brecht’s theatrical writings (and can meanwhile be found in Brecht on Theatre, pp. 153–7). It was originally prefaced by the words ‘To take some instances from Puntila….’]
NOTES ON THE ZURICH PREMIÈRE
1
Instead of the conventional curtain falling like a guillotine to chop the play into separate scenes, back to the lightly fluttering half-height linen curtain with the scene titles projected on it. During scene changes this curtain was somewhat lit so as to make it come to life and allow the audience to become more or less aware of the busy preparations being made for them on the stage. In particular they saw the upper parts of the big wall sections as they were shifted in, and they saw the sun’s disc and the moon’s sickle being lowered on wires, not yet illuminated and therefore visibly made of metal; they also saw the various little clouds being changed around.
2
These emblems for sun, moon, and clouds hung, like inn or shop signs, before the high broad wall of birch bark that constituted the background of the Puntila stage. According as to whether it was day, half-light, or night the wall was lit strongly, feebly, or not at all; the acting area being fully illuminated the while. In this way the atmospheric element was established in the background, independently of the rest of the performance.
3
No use was made of coloured light of any sort. Provided the lighting equipment is up to it the light should be as uniform as for a variety performance which includes the display of acrobatics. Sharply defined spotlighting would blot out the faces. Areas of darkness, even if only relative, detract from the words issuing from them. It is a good idea to have photographs taken to find out what kind of lighting is liable to strain the audience.
4
Colour and contrast can be supplied by the stage designer without having recourse to coloured light. The colour scheme for Puntila comprised blue, grey, and white for the stage, and black, grey, and white for the costumes. On top of this the latter were strictly realistic, with particular respect for details (the village women’s handbags; the farm workers working barefoot on Sunday in their best trousers, shirts, and waistcoats, etc.).
5
All working processes must be shown in proper detail. (An actress who happened to have a child’s figure turned Fina the maid into a memorable character by showing her working late at the washing (6), carrying butter (7) and falling asleep exhausted during Mr Puntila’s engagement party (9).)
6
The permanent framework consisted of the great birch bark wall at the back already mentioned with thin structures of gold rods on either side downstage. The sets were composed of separate elements, those in the first scene for instance being (a) a wooden panelled wall with table, chairs, tablecloth covered with bottles of red wine, and a dozen empties grouped on the floor; and (b) a potted palm (the luxury element). Elements like those of the sixth scene, with its courtyard gateway and its main entrance to the house, could be definitively placed during the rehearsals. A further luxury element was a trashy plaster statuette in the second scene, whereas the slaughtered pig of scene 5, suspended from a scaffolding made of carmine-coloured joists and a brass rod, was no luxury element since it told of the preparations for the engagement banquet and was to be carried across the courtyard in the next scene. Importance was attached to the beauty and ease of the elements and the charm of their combination. At the same time they had to be realistic. Though the car in scene 3 consisted only of a truncated forepart it had been made from authentic components.
7
That the various stage elements, the costumes and the props should all look worn not only contributes to realism but also relieves the stage of that new, untested look.
8
Meaning, spatial dispositions, and colour must be such that every glimpse of the stage captures an image worth seeing.
9
The German language has no term for that aspect of mime which is known to the English stage as ‘business’, and we tend to introduce it half-heartedly, in an embarrassed way. Our word Kiste [literally, ‘box’] which we use instead, shows the contempt in which it is held. All the same, Kisten [pieces of business] are essential components of narrative theatre. (Puntila walks dryshod across the aquavit (1); Puntila hires a woodcutter because he likes his eyes (4); the women of Kurgela see butter, meat, and beer entering their fiancé’s house (7), and so on.) Such things were of course played for all they were worth. This was greatly helped by the ‘one thing after another’ principle, which any dramaturgy founded on exposition, climax, and thickening of the plot is always having to disregard.
10
The decisive point is the establishment of the class antagonism between Puntila and Matti. Matti must be so cast as to bring about a true balance, i.e., so as to give him intellectually the upper hand. The actor playing Puntila must be careful not to let his vitality or charm in the drunk scenes so win over the audience that they are no longer free to look at him critically.
11
Among the play’s nobler characters are the four women from Kurgela. It would be completely wrong to portray them as comic; rather they are full of humour. They would anyway have to be attractive, if only because their expulsion must be attributable to no other cause then their inferior status.
12
Possible cuts: Scene 4 (The Hiring Fair) is deleted. But parts of it are used in the following scene (Scandal at Puntila Hall).
Then scene 5 begins as follows:
The yard at Puntila Hall. A bath-hut, the interior of which is visible. Forenoon. Over the door leading into the house Laina the cook and Fina the maid are nailing a sign saying ‘Welcome to the Engagement Party!’
Puntila and Matti come in through the gate, followed by a few workers.
LAINA: Welcome back. Miss Eva and His Excellency and His Honour are here, and they’re all having breakfast.
PUNTILA: First thing I want to know is what’s the matter with Surkkala. Why is he packing?
LAINA: You promised the parson you’d get rid of him because he’s a Red.
PUNTILA: What, Surkkala? The only intelligent tenant I’ve got? Besides, he has four children. What must he think of me? Parson be buggered, I’ll forbid him the house for his inhumanity. Send Surkkala here right away, I want to apologise to him and his family. Send the children too, all four of them, so I can express my personal regret for the fear and insecurity they must have been through.
LAINA: No call for that, Mr Puntila.
PUNTILA, seriously: Oh yes there is. Pointing to the workers: These gentlemen are staying. Get them all an aquavit, Laina. I’m taking them on to work in the forest.
LAINA: I thought you were selling the forest.
PUNTILA: Me? I’m not selling any forest. My daughter’s got her dowry between her legs, right? And I’ve brought these men home because I can’t stand those hiring fairs. If I want to buy a horse or a cow I’ll go to a fair without thinking twice about it. But you’re human beings, and it’s not right for human beings to be bargained over in a market. Am I right?
THE WEEDY MAN: Absolutely.
MATTI: Excuse me, Mr Puntila, but you’re not right. They want work and you’ve got work, and whether it’s done at a fair or in church it’s still buying and selling.
PUNTILA: Brother, would you inspect me to see if my feet are crooked, the way you inspect a horse’s teeth?
MATTI: No. I’d take you on trust.
PUNTILA, indicating the weedy-looking man: That fellow wouldn’t be bad. I like the look in his eye.
MATTI: Mr Puntila, I don’t want to speak out of turn, but that man’s no use to you, he’ll never be able to stand it.
THE WEEDY MAN: Here, I like that. What tells you I’ll never be able to stand it?
MATTI: An eleven-and-a-half-hour day in summer. It?
??s just that I don’t want to see you let down, Mr Puntila. You’ll only have to throw him out when he cracks up.
PUNTILA: I’m going into the sauna. Tell Fina to bring me some coffee. While I’m undressing you go and fetch two or three more so I can take my pick.
He goes into the bath hut and undresses, Fina brings the workers aquavit.
MATTI, to Fina: Get him some coffee.
THE RED-HEADED MAN: What’s it like up at Puntila Hall?
MATTI: So-so. Four quarts of milk. Milk’s good. You get potatoes too, I’m told. Room’s on the small side.
THE RED-HEADED MAN: How far’s school? I’ve got a little girl.
MATTI: About an hour’s walk.
THE RED-HEADED MAN: That’s nothing in fine weather. What’s he like?
MATTI: Too familiar. It won’t matter to you, you’ll be in the forest, but I’m with him in the car, I can’t get away from him and before I know where I am he’s turning all human on me. I can’t take it much longer.
Surkkala comes in with his four children.
MATTI: Surkkala! For God’s sake clear off right away. Once he’s had his bath and knocked back his coffee, he’ll be stone cold sober and better look out if he catches you around the yard. Take my advice, you’ll keep out of his sight the next day or two.
Surkkala nods and is about to hasten away with the children.
PUNTILA, who has undressed and listened but failed to hear the end of this, peers out of the bath hut and observes Surkkala and the children: Surkkala! I’ll be with you in a moment. To Matti: Give him ten marks earnest money.
MATTI: Yes, but can’t you make up your mind about this lot? They’ll miss the hiring fair.
PUNTILA: Don’t rush me. I don’t buy human beings in cold blood. I’m offering them a home on the Puntila estate.
THE RED-HEADED MAN: Then I’m off. I need a job. He goes.
PUNTILA: Stop! He’s gone. I could have used him. To the weedy man: Don’t let him put you off. You’ll do the work all right. I give you my word of honour. You understand what that means, the word of a Tavastland farmer? Mount Hatelma can crumble, it’s not very likely but it can, but the word of a Tavastland farmer stands for ever, everyone knows that. To Matti: Come inside, I need you to pour the water over me. To the weedy man: You can come in too.
(Unchanged from p. 246, line 8 to p. 249, line 16. Then:)
PUNTILA, to Fina: Now this is what I’ve decided, and I want you to listen so what I say doesn’t get twisted around later as it usually does. Indicating one of the labourers: I’ d have taken that one, but his trousers are too posh for me, he’s not going to strain himself. Clothes are the thing to look out for: too good means he thinks he’s too good to work, too torn means he’s got a bad character. It’s all right for a gardener, for instance, to go around in patched trousers so long as it’s the knees are patched, not the seat, yes, with a gardener it has to be the knees. I only need one look to see what’s a man’s made of, his age doesn’t matter, if he’s old he’ll carry as much or more because he’s frightened of being turned off, what I go by is the man himself. Intelligence is no use to me, that lot spend all day totting up their hours of work. I don’t like that, I’d sooner be on friendly terms with my men. To a strongly built labourer: You can come along, I’ll give you your earnest money inside. And that reminds me. To Matti, who has emerged from the bath hut: Give me your jacket. You’re to hand over your jacket, d’you hear? He is handed Matti’s jacket. Got you boyo. Shows him the wallet: What do I find in your pocket? Had a feeling about you, spotted you for an old lag first go off. Is that my wallet or isn’t it?
MATTI: Yes, Mr Puntila.
PUNTILA: Now you’re for it, ten years’ gaol, all I have to do is ring the police.
MATTI: Yes, Mr Puntila.
PUNTILA: But that’s a favour I’m not doing you. So you can lead the life of Riley in a cell, lying around and eating the taxpayer’s bread, what? That’d suit you down to the ground. At harvest time too. So you’d get out of driving the tractor. But I’m putting it all down in your reference, you get me?
MATTI: Yes, Mr Puntila Puntila walks angrily towards the house. On the threshold stands Eva, carrying her straw hat. She has been listening.
THE WFFDY MAN: Should I come along then, Mr Puntila?
PUNTILA: You’re no use to me whatever, you’ll never stand it.
THE WEEDY MAN: But the hiring fair’s over now.
PUNTILA: You should have thought of that sooner instead of trying to take advantage of my friendly mood. I remember exactly who takes advantage of it. To the labourer who has followed him: I’ve thought it over and I’m taking nobody at all. I’ll probably sell the forest, and you can blame it on him there [he points at Matti] for deliberately leaving me in the dark about something I needed to know, the bastard. I’ll show him. Exit into the house, brooding.
(Then unchanged from p. 250, line 13 on.)
[GW Schriften zum Theater, pp. 1169–73, and GW Stücke, pp. 1713–17, which originally were consecutive. Written in 1948 and first published in Versuche 10, 1950. For the Zurich première of June 5, 1948, the scene designer was Teo Otto. Puntila was played by Leonard Steckel, Matti by Gustav Knuth.]
NOTES ON THE BERLINER ENSEMBLE PRODUCTION
1. Prologues, inter-scene songs, and scene titles
Our new audience, being engaged in building a new life for itself, insists on having its say and not just accepting what happens on the stage (‘That’s how things are and what’s to change them?’); it doesn’t like having to guess the playwright’s viewpoint. Prologues, songs during scene changes, and the occasional projection of scene titles on the half-curtain all make for direct contact with the audience. The actress playing the dairymaid, Regine Lutz, delivered a short verse prologue with a bunch of everlastings in her hand. For the Zurich production there were scene titles [examples as in our text are cited]. Prologues are to be found in the classic drama, scene titles however only in the classic adventure story. They put the audience in a state of mild suspense and lead it to look for something definite in the scene that follows. In the Berliner Ensemble production the scene titles were dropped in favour of the singing of the Puntila song. Annemarie Hase, playing the cook, stepped before the curtain carrying whatever household utensils she happened to be working with, thus making it possible to follow the various stages of the great Puntila engagement party. Her song was accompanied on the other side of the stage by two musicians who had appeared before the curtain carrying a guitar and a piano accordion. The song gave a running commentary on events at Puntila Hall as viewed from the kitchen, and by making them celebrated as it were, turned Mr Puntila’s escapades into aspects of local history.
2. Some principles of the production illustrated
This play’s satire is of a poetic kind. The director’s task therefore is to translate its poetic features into memorable images.
At the beginning of the play, for instance, we encounter a Puntila of almost mythological grandeur. He is the triumphant last survivor of a veritable flood of spirituous liquors, in which all his drinking companions have drowned. […]
The director accordingly must conjure up Puntila’s moan of isolation and his berating of the inadequate judge; Puntila’s encounter with a human being (Puntila is on the dining table demonstrating how one walks across a sea of aquavit when he catches sight of Matti. He has to clamber down and steer a wide course round the gratuitously large table in order to greet Matti and bring him back to the table); the revealing of his dreadful malady (Puntila formally creeps into the protesting Matti); Matti’s ghost story (while he eats he recalls those who are being starved on the big landed estates); Puntila promoting Matti to be a friend and then consulting him about his own personal affairs (to solve his shabby problems Puntila keeps Matti up when he would much rather go home and go to bed); Matti leading a subdued Puntila out of the hotel (again a wide tour of the table, Puntila having confidingly and ceremoniously handed him the wallet containing his despised money
).
3 The way people work
Showing how work is actually done is something the bourgeois theatre finds uninteresting; the usual solution is to botch up any old thing. It is essential that Matti, the chauffeur, should work deftly, whether he is changing a tyre as he talks to the landowner’s daughter, or sweeping out the yard, or massaging Puntila, or dragging out the drunken judge. Likewise the kitchenmaid’s serving of coffee, soaking of linen, and carrying of butter all have to be got right.
4. Puntila’s drunkenness