The master mime shares the stage
Marcel Marceau, who weaves his incomparable art in silence, talks a mile a minute and seems to enjoy it, interrupting himself only to ask if he has made himself clear. He refers to himself almost as another person, apart from himself, a phenomenon known as "Marceau." And a phenomenon he certainly is. At 81, and internationally acknowledged as the greatest living master of mime for more than half a century, Marceau is still creating new work.
Tonight the American Repertory Theatre presents the American premiere of Marceau's "Les Contes Fantastiques: Fantastic Tales," three mimodramas in contrasting styles that feature Marceau and his company of younger mime artists. The first half of the program offers Marceau in some of his classic solo pantomimes that have delighted generations of theatergoers.
"I have had a mime company throughout my career, but I do not always tour with it," Marceau recently said from his school in Paris. "You know the story with money. I produce my one-man show over the whole world, and with the money I am paid, I subsidize my company, with which I have created about 30 mimodramas."
Marceau explains that his mime company and school are international; its members and students come from 15 countries.
"Of course, I have to be a master for my students, but I have no right to be angry, to be too hard on them. I have to have patience as they learn the art of mime. You can't explain music; you have to hear it. You can't explain dance; you have to see it. Mime works the same way. The mystery of mime is to please and touch the public. How this happens is a mystery, as it is in any art that is great."
One of the new pieces, "The Wandering Monk," is based on a Japanese fable and was inspired by Noh drama. Another, "The Tiger," is based on an old Chinese tale. The third, "The Masquerade Ball," takes place in 19th-century Italy and was influenced by Edgar Allan Poe, the Brothers Grimm, and E. T. A. Hoffmann, as well, Marceau writes in his notes, as by ancient Greek drama, the commedia dell'arte, Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Dante, and Giuseppe Verdi. Marceau takes what he needs from where he finds it.
"I am, if you want, the author of these mimodramas, but they are created with the collaboration of the entire company," Marceau says. "I cannot be a dictator, and we all work together on the creation. I speak to the company about the story, and then we try to develop a scene by improvising it. Sometimes I say, `You have to do this' or `You have to do that,' but I am happy to take every good idea that the company comes up with. The work on a new mimodrama is always at least 2 or 3 months."
Marceau founded his art in a tradition. In 1946, he studied with Etienne Decroux, who created what he calls "a new grammar for mime from sculpture." An earlier disciple of Decroux's was the actor Jean-Louis Barrault. "You can still see the old style of pantomime in Barrault's famous performance in the film `The Children of Paradise.' When I left Decroux, I was still very young, only 23, but I wanted to create a new character and a new style."
In another sense, Marceau's style of miming was his own creation. "I still had the white face, but the costumes were different and the art of working was completely different." In 1947, he first appeared as the clown Mr. Bip in his banged-up top hat. "When I invented my character, Mr. Bip, I decided to keep the white face. I wanted to tell the public that I knew the memory of mime in the 19th century, which had another grammar. I say to my students that if you don't know the past, you cannot have a present or create a future; everything has to be remembered."
Marceau has written and illustrated books about Mr. Bip and has traveled around the world with him as he encounters his unpredictable adventures. At various times Marceau has become a familiar figure on television in America and in Europe -- he is always being rediscovered, and new, young audiences fall under his spell. He has also appeared in films as diverse as "Barbarella," with Jane Fonda, and Mel Brooks's "Silent Movie," in which he paradoxically spoke the only word ("Non").
Marceau's art is physically demanding, but he says he maintains no regime of exercise to keep in trim. "My energy comes from my energy. If ever I would rest, maybe my age would be there. But when I am not touring, I teach in my school. Also laughing is very much healthy. Very often young people who come to see me and know about my age wonder if they are watching Marcel Marceau's son. They never thought a man of such an age could be so young."
Beyond his formal studies, Marceau's love of the great actors and clowns of the silent-film era inspired him, especially Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, and Laurel & Hardy. "When I saw the films of Chaplin when I was a kid, I recognized his genius. If I hadn't seen what he did, I wouldn't have been able to describe it, and the same is true of Marceau. All I can say is that I show the invisible with the visible; the invisible becomes visible. This is something very mysterious. And when the public sees the `Fantastic Tales' they will see something with the company that is completely different from what they see in my one-man show. In this they will discover another mystery . . ."
This is a subject that Marceau can warm to. "Is not life a mystery too? Young people must always ask themselves, `Why were we born?' or `What is God?' `What is art?' If we do not ask these questions there can be no evolution. On the stage I have to be like a magician and show the character and feelings of people who are not actually there on the stage."
The American actress Ruth Draper was famous during the first half of the 20th century for her monologues, which filled the stage with unseen characters that she was talking to, or about. "She came to see me when I came to New York for the first time. Ruth Draper was a wonderful woman who spoke with invisible people on the stage. I show people without speaking . . . I think this is even more difficult."
As he pauses, then speaks, from across the Atlantic, you can almost see the smile spreading across the expressive face of Marceau.
