 I've been instructed because I'm rather shorter, you get it. Does that, does that, can you hear that, have you all right? Okay, I don't want to boom. I can bit him. Well, good evening. We now know quite a lot about John Carter, FSA, thanks to the research particularly of Bernard Nurse and Joe Morden Crook. And so his interest in the theatre is well known. But until now, it's been presumed that the scenery designs that are variously recorded were entirely for his own amusement. In a list at the Bodleon, for example, we hear of, quote, the white rose, a dramatic romance, founded on historic facts of the 15th century, written and set to music for the harpsichord with an accompaniment for the violin by John Carter with 11 highly finished drawings for scenery. See if I can, I can't actually see what I'm doing here. There we are, right. I shall show that Carter was also a designer of sets for the professional theatre. These designs were made for the actor-manager of the theatre royal Drury Lane, John Philip Kemble, the brother happily of Sarah Siddins. What is more extraordinary is that since, as we shall see, they date to 1789, they proved to be the first designs we have of antiquarian scenery created for the British theatre and at a decisive period in its history when Kemble was determined to move towards historically convincing productions, especially if Shakespeare ought to be absolutely clear, and I'll go into this a little further, of the heavily adapted versions of Shakespeare that were then normal. The credit for this archaeological approach under Kemble has hitherto, however, been given to William Capon, the designer and scene painter who worked with Kemble from the opening of the new Drury Lane Theatre in 1794. How far Capon was involved at Drury Lane before that date is not at all clear, but it appears to have been in a minor and occasional capacity. In 1783, for instance, Capon certainly assisted the chief scene painter at Drury Lane, Thomas Greenwood Sr. In the redecoration, or rather obliteration, frankly, this was under the management of Tom King for Richard Brinsley Sheridan. Kemble took over in 1785. They obliterated Robert Adams' interior. By the middle of 1789, Kemble set out to replace that theatre by Adam with a vast new one designed by Henry Holland, the Younger, which opened in 1794. Other than assisting Greenwood in that redecoration work, Capon was not, so far as I can see, regularly employed at Drury Lane in the 1780s. In 1783, in addition to that work at Drury Lane in redecoration, he was actually working under the chief scene painter Michael Nowosieski at the Italian opera house in the Haymarket. He was there again in 1789-91, assisting Nowosieski in rebuilding and decorating the new opera house after fire had destroyed the original one in June 1789. Drury Lane itself closed in June 1789 for rebuilding. We know that Greenwood Sr. continued to be in charge of scene painting in the company, which remained the case when that company actually occupied the opera house between 1792 and 1794 while waiting for the new Drury Lane to be completed. In the absence of much more detail for the activities of Capon at this time, there seems no reason to doubt that, as his obituary clearly stated, it was in 1794 that Capon was actually appointed by Kemble to design historically convincing sets for his new theatre. These drawings reveal, however, that the true pioneer in the archaeological approach to scenery was John Carter, Capon's senior by nearly 10 years. And it was he who first introduced historically-reserved sets for Kemble, but, of course, at the old Drury Lane Theatre in 1789. As a matter of interest, it's perfectly possible that Carter was introduced to Kemble by Capon, presumably in late 1788, if not before, because Carter was and remained a very close friend of Capon, and both worked together for many years on recording the Old Palace of Westminster. This society bought Capon's coloured and key ground plan of the palace for no less than 120 guineys in 1826 and published it in an engraving by Vazir in 1828. Now, both Carter and Capon cared deeply about the Gothic, what was often called pointed architecture. And in Capon's obituary we learned that, quote, Mr Capon, like his older cratons, the late John Carter, was cast in the mould of antiquity, and his passion was the ancient architecture of this country. Capon was, it continued, quote, an enthusiastic admirer of the pointed style. And though by no means bigoted, as was the case with poor Mr Carter, he strongly opposed every endeavour to deteriorate its excellences or to destroy its remains. Carter and Capon were also devoted to the same music, especially that of Purcell and Handel, and Carter went so far as to assert, I am a man lost in two extremes, one for the antiquities of England and the other for the divine melodies of the immortal Handel. It is interesting, then, to note that Campbell reopened Drury Lane on 12 March 1794 with a stage selection of oratorios by Handel, for which Capon provided what was described as, quote, a chapel of the pointed architecture that occupied the whole stage. More interestingly, or very tantalisingly, there is a set designed by Carter at the Yale Centre for British Art in New Haven that is from the same series of sketches as those we've just glanced at. The paper, medium and measurements are identical. It's tempting, of course, to see this on the left as the drawing for what Capon produced, namely a chapel of the pointed architecture that occupied the whole stage. There is, however, a rather large snag since, as we shall see, the proportions of this drawing, like the other three, cannot fit the new, larger Drury Lane stage. And so this, along with the other three, must have been made for the old Adam stage. Nonetheless, the drawing, which must be close in date to the others by 1789, points again to Carter's preceding Capon in antiquarian sets, although, of course, also stresses the similarity of the approach of the two men. It was Capon, however, a not Carter, and that really does appear to be pretty much of a piece with the bad luck that dogged Carter throughout his life. It was Capon who went on to earn fame as, quote, the first archaeologist of our stage. Well, he was indeed an archaeologist of the stage, but he wasn't, as we can now see, the first. His reputation was, though, firmly founded upon sets, for example, for Richard III, that reconstructed parts of Westminster, as well as what was described as, quote, the Tower of London restored to its earlier state, if only that would happen now. Similarly, for a melodrama that Kemble staged in 1796, George Coleman's The Iron Chest, Capon's set for a Gothic library, actually copied the vaulting from St Stephen's Westminster. While for Nicholas Rose, Jane Shaw, he drew upon the council chamber of Crosby Hall, now notoriously, somewhat of private residence. James Bowden, in his biography of Kemble, recorded sets by Capon that Kemble proudly showed him in Capon's private painting room at Drury Lane Theatre. Bowden described Capon as working, quote, with all the zeal of anantigory, and remarked that he worked, quote, as if he had been upon oath. These sets included six chamber wings of pointed architecture for general use in our old English plays, very elaborately studied from actual remains. A view of New Palace Yard Westminster, as it was in 1793, the ancient palace of Westminster, as it was about 300 years back from partial remains and authentic sources of information, put together with the greatest diligence and accuracy, about 42 feet wide and 34 feet to the top of the scene. Then there were two very large wings containing portions of the old palace, which the artist made out from an ancient draught, met with in looking over some records of the augmentation office in Westminster. It was but a pen and ink sketch originally, but exhibited what was true. Six wings representing ancient English streets, combinations of genuine remains. This is a sketch by Capon for just such an all purpose set. Now the measurements that Bowden provides are important because they reveal that all the stage sets that he saw were for the new Drury Lane stage, that new stage that was 43 feet wide in comparison with the old Drury Lane of 28 feet wide. We have then no records for any designs by Capon that fit the old stage, whether or not he was involved as a scene painter under Greenwood. Before looking in more detail at Carter's designs for Kemble at the old theatre, it is worth stressing, I think, that it's something that many of you will be familiar with, but perhaps even so underestimate the extent of. Even while Kemble was engaged in seeking out more authentic settings for historical plays, the playing of authentic texts, especially by Shakespeare, remained a very long way off indeed. Everyone at the time had virtually referred to the playing of Shakespeare, but it was hard to ever that. Despite fulsome tributes to Kemble's wonderful playing of Shakespeare throughout his career and at his retirement from the stage, it would be fair to say that he never really acted a Shakespeare play in his life. Indeed, what is so often referred to as adaptations of Shakespeare could be so radical as to resemble new creations entirely. To take any one example, but probably the most famous, Richard III was played from 1700 until 1877, that's nearly 200 years, exclusively in the form of the play by Collie Sibar. The relative size of the names of Sibar and Shakespeare on the title page is not an exaggeration. A third of this text was written entirely by Sibar, while substantial parts of what was by Shakespeare were lifted from other plays completely, including Henry VI, part III, Henry V, Richard II and even Macbeth. It was Henry Irving who finally revived Shakespeare's Richard III in 1877, but he swiftly reverted to Sibar's. It worked better in the theatre, play thought. Nor was costume authentic in any way. Macbeth was played in Georgian court dress or for a hint of historicity in Van Dyck dressed as in the left. There is an interesting nod, by the way, in the setting in the Garrick production of a baronial Gothic. Again, although this was clearly not the case in 1786, the date of the painting it left, there was nothing archaeological about the setting at this point. Campbell was an innovator in historical costume and in the later 1790s introduced, for example, Roman togas and tunics in place of the extremely odd outfits previously used to indicate ancient Rome. I have to stress, this is not a cartoon but a newspaper report. We may note how the city of Rome in the background, this is really the killing touch, I think, was represented more in the manner of Windsor Castle. After all, to adapt that joke, it is a very old building. And Campbell discovered, of course, that he looked extremely good in a toga or tunic. Incidentally, Quinn was performing not, as you might expect, Coriolanus by Shakespeare, but Coriolanus by James Thompson of 1749, a play that itself was further adapted by Sheridan in 1754 and then by Campbell in 1789, in both of which Thompson was mixed up with Shakespeare. In fact, it's the very use by Campbell of adapted texts that led to the identification in the first instance of these drawings by Carter. Clearly, and I bought them many years ago and really didn't think about them until quite recently, clearly they had to play by John Carter and clearly they were from Coriolanus, but which production? None of the act and scene references that Carter so carefully inscribes along the top relate to Shakespeare in any 18th century or in any other edition, but I found that they related precisely to Campbell's version published in 1789 and it was that year on the 7th of February that saw at Rory Lane the inaugural performance of an entirely new production. I just for a moment draw your attention to the way the title page advertises the order of the ovation and I'll return to that very shortly indeed. At this date, 1789 for every 1789, Campbell had only just become manager of the theatre on the 23rd of September 1788. He was now to produce things his own way and of course to put on plays that most suited himself, which in his case meant a lot of standing about, looking terribly imposing, showing off his profile and saying as little as possible. Coriolanus fitted the bill perfectly as you can see. Not everyone was impressed. Haslett remarked that Campbell's performance as Coriolanus was, quote, a studied piece of classical costume, a conscious exhibition of elegantly disposed drapery. That was all. Yet as a mere display of personal and artificial grace, it was inimitable. Worse, he went on. It has been said of the Venus de Medici, so stands the statue that enchants the world. The same might have been said of Mr. Campbell. He is the very still life and statuary of the stage, a perfect figure of a man, a petrifaction of sentiment, that heaves no sigh and sheds no tear, an icicle upon the bust of tragedy. Well, this is how the drawings match up to Campbell's edition. Act 1, scene 1 is, as we can see, a street in Rome. Even if the precise period of Roman history is incorrect, Carter's sets are certainly learned. In the first one, for instance, if you look carefully, he went to the trouble of suggesting the growth of the city of Rome by showing three different classical orders, Corinthian, Doric, and Ionic. He was, after all, trained as an architectural draftsman, as a matter of fact, interestingly, is another one of many consulates in this story, under Henry Holland, the builder of the new Drury Lane Theatre. Act 2, scene 2 is, as we can see, a triumphal arch. This arch would have been divided and slid into position from either side to transform the previous scene, details of which are, of course, still visible. This was an important set, in fact, perhaps the most important set in the whole production, because it was, for one of the production's greatest attractions, the ovation. This was a truly massive procession with music of a type very characteristic of the theatre at that time. It's listed, as you can see, in the text, but that hardly gives... It's a hardly adequate description. It's hard to believe, but it is true that no fewer than 240 individuals appeared in the ovation scene. Now, it was a veritable performance army. Two divisions of it were indeed military. One division was religious and the fourth consisted of musicians and choristers singing what else, handles, see the conquering hero comes. After them came 28 senators, 27 ladies, four Roman mansions, including the majestic figure of Mrs Siddon's, and in place of a partridge in a pear tree, Campbell himself, who went to stand apart, as was his custom, in lone state, as one modern commentator, as well put it, in full actor managerial majesty. Act 5 scene 1 is described as the Valsian Lines, which made its impact with yet another procession, where Campbell played his ace. His sister, Mrs Siddon's, has for Lumnia, this time at the head of a procession of Roman women, all in mourning, advancing extremely slowly between files of soldiers to the component of very solid music. Since the prompt book, and we have Campbell's prompt book in the Garex, some of them at least, in Campbell's hand is written, everybody for last act, we must presume that there were 240 people packed in one way or another, presumably we must hope in sequence. No wonder, Campbell yearned for a larger stage, and it does appear that this production sealed the fate of Robert Adams' beautiful little theatre. Campbell wrote in his journal on the opening night, this play was very splendidly ornamented. Mrs Siddon's was prodigiously admired, and it was said that I never acted better. The whole play was greatly applauded. Now that phrase, very splendidly ornamented, doesn't refer to the extravagant number of players, but must refer, I think, in large part to Carter's innovative sets. Within months, the theatre was being demolished, having closed on the 4th of June. As I said, it was rebuilt by Henry Holland between 1792-1994. That rebuilding is the key to confirming the date of these drawings. Thanks to Ian McIntosh who's here this evening, it was possible to prove that Carter's drawings were conceived to fit the proscenium as it was when Campbell took over in 1788 at the Old Drury Lane Theatre. Ian pointed out that, since the designs would have to be drawn strictly in proportion to the stage for which they were intended, as they would be handed on to the scene-pater to enlarge them precisely, then it would be possible to match them with either with the smaller stage of the 1780s or the much larger stage of the 1790s. The older stage, for which it turned out they were intended, can be seen in a print called The Theatrical Oblars, and this is a very interesting version owned by Ian McIntosh which belonged to Campbell. And it's inscribed in his instantly recognisable hand, Theatre Drury Lane, given me by William Capon Esquire, and he's dated it very carefully in smaller numerals, 1775 at the left, which refers both to the date of the performance in question, Nicholas Rose Tamallane, and to the year in which Robert Adams' new proscenium was in place. Thanks to Photoshop, we can see how Carter's design does indeed fit perfectly into the proscenium of the Drury Lane Theatre, as it still was, for Campbell's opening night of Coriolanus on the 7th of February 1789. Hey presto! Now it's possible to confirm this another way, because Robert Adams' design for the Drury Lane proscenium survives in the same museum. It's inscribed method for finishing the front of the stage, which covers the first curtain and is never changed, the apotheosis of Shakespeare by the tragic and comic muses. Well, Carter's design fits precisely this too. Bingo. Thank you very much.