As absurd as the noises that claim to be associated with spoken cinema may be, I must admit, nonetheless, that I have the idea of setting to work on the task of seeking a work of art for the cinema, a work of art that is pure vision, entirely distinct from the language I have used thus far as a means of expressing my experience of life.
in Italiano
The Drama and the Spoken Cinematograph.
Published by Pirandello in «La Nación», Buenos Aires, July 7, 1929.
There are two ways in which an artist can make his internal life — that is to say, his thoughts and feelings — intelligible to mankind: firstly, through words, and indeed, written words more than spoken ones; and those that reproduce in the listener the impression of the speaker through the senses of meaning and hearing. Secondly, through images, which provide the viewer with the vision of the events that move the artist through the sense of sight.
The ideal manner for expressing the first of these two artistic means is drama, while cinema would ideally serve its purpose if it were solely conscious of the possibilities and motivations that belong exclusively to it.
By entirely giving up the thread that would persist in uniting it with the entirely different art of drama, cinema should transform itself into pure vision — that is, it should strive to achieve its effect in the same way that a dream (as much as pure vision) influences the spirit of a sleeping person.
For this reason, there is, in my view, no greater absurdity than the experiments currently being conducted in the realm of spoken cinema. From the very beginning, I consider it an experience without outcome because it attempts to achieve in cinema effects that are reserved for the stage and because it cannot simultaneously do justice to both the idea of production and the idea of film.
As absurd as the noises that attempt to associate with the plans of the spoken cinematograph are, I must admit that I have the intention of working on the task of seeking an artwork for cinema — an artwork that is pure vision, completely distinct from the language I have so far employed as a means of expressing my experience of life. Dialogue has always played a more important role than action in my dramas.
My drama, “Six Characters in Search of an Author,” is now being put into production. To say that it will be is not entirely correct; rather, I am trying to resolve purely visually the problem encountered at the very root of my drama, which is treated carelessly within it.
I am striving to make intelligible, through this visual medium, how the Six Characters and their destinies were conceived in the author’s mind, and how, once imbued with life, they became independent of him. Naturally, this projection of the problem onto a new plane is merely a substitution, a hybrid creation that is very far from the idea of true cinematic work. It will therefore be experienced by the author from the very beginning as pure vision and can consequently be reproduced. Everything in current cinema that resembles the theater, every element that calls on understanding and does not solely influence the observer’s soul exclusively through the sense of sight, must disappear. I wish to indicate new pathways for cinema. How it will be technically possible for these pathways to be traversable is still my secret; however, it will soon be revealed through my work that I will present to the public.
Of course, the intense occupation with a form of artistic expression is not sufficient justification to consider the other form practiced so far as a viewpoint that has been surpassed. On the contrary, I believe that drama still has much to teach humanity, and I hope I will be allowed to express myself on this topic. Recently, I completed a new drama of mine, a drama about Lazarus, which treats the problem of resurrection after death in a new way, as a awakening, as a second earthly life. It demonstrates the conversion of the resurrected to a new religion that builds earthly life on a foundation of love, after death “has opened the eyes” of a person, granting her the power to understand the value of earthly existence.
Currently, I am involved in a new dramatic subject. It is also a myth, the form of drama to which I have been dedicating myself preferentially since my “New Colony.” It is called “The Giants of the Mountains,” and it addresses the problem of the complex and futile struggle currently waged for intellectual and physical power against the supremacy of corporeal matter in the strictest sense. It depicts an artist who, eager to make the masses understand the work left by her beloved poet, finds herself mocked and despised, finally discovering her audience among giants who live in the solitude of their mountains. Yet, they, incapable of grasping the sentiment of production or convincing the artist — whose role is that of the devilish woman who abandons her part — end up killing her. Such is the fate currently endured by true art all around the world. However, this must be understood solely in relation to drama and should not be taken personally. It reflects current realities and not my personal experiences, although many bitter successes and recent disappointments could have led me to such assumptions. However, the problem of my drama has nothing to do with the nascent Italian theater that I hoped to create but never realized. It symbolizes modern life in the world as a whole, a world that glorifies Dempsey and threatens to destroy every other esteemed purpose through its one-sided esteem for physical strength.
Luigi Pirandello
Se vuoi contribuire, invia il tuo materiale, specificando se e come vuoi essere citato a
If you want to contribute, send your material, specifying if and how you want to be cited at
collabora@pirandelloweb.com
