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Adding Some “PEP” (“Proto-­ Expressionistic Props”) to the Swedish Stage Strindberg’s Property Usage and His Intima Teater Christopher J. Mitchell Seek . . . a small theme exhaustively treated . . . searching but short,” exhorted August Strindberg in articulating the guiding principles of his groundbreaking “Intima Teater” project of the early twentieth century.1 While the intimacy and complexity of the characterization in plays like the To Damascus series often garner the lion’s share of attention from theatre historians, in the plays written specifically for this theatrical project, judicious and spare property usage was a key element to their dramaturgy—a philosophy that carried over into production . These objects—carried or worn—held great power in the characters ’ worlds, often projecting the characters’ tormented mental states or parading their past sins in a proto-­ expressionistic fashion. Using textual evidence from the four Chamber Plays—Storm, The Burned House, The Ghost Sonata, and The Pelican—this paper will illustrate how property usage was extraordinarily important to this early salvo in the development of the modern nonrealistic theatre. The Intima Teater: “Avoid All Ostentation” Strindberg made a few abortive attempts over the years to start a theatre devoted to the staging of his work, but it wasn’t until the last decade of his life that the dream was realized with the help of the young director August Falck.2 The rather claustrophobic warehouse space on “ Adding Some “PEP” (“Proto-­ Expressionistic Props”) to the Swedish Stage      49 Norra Bantorget in Stockholm “made it difficult to create illusions of depth,”3 but was well suited to a theatre of “no elaborate apparatus”4 as Strindberg had hoped for. Chronically underfunded, and oftentimes supplemented with props culled from Strindberg’s own apartment,5 the theatre nevertheless got off the ground in 1907 with one of his Chamber Plays written directly for it, The Pelican. This piece was so poorly received by the critics that Falck was forced to hastily create a production of the more successful Miss Julie to raise capital. Another Chamber Play, The Burned House, suffered a similar fate. It wasn’t until Storm premiered at the end of that year that the reviews were warmer. This did not signal a consistent upward trend, for critical bewilderment returned with the following year’s debut of The Ghost Sonata, causing that play to be removed after twelve performances.6 While discouraged by the hostile reception coming from a critical coterie that was no doubt schooled in more lavishly set productions, such as those performed elsewhere in Stockholm, Strindberg nonetheless was unrelenting in his demands for the theatre; he dismissed the idea of elaborate furniture and props on the fear that they would “undo [the] new fabric” that he and Falck were creating.7 “Don’t encumber the stage with props and furniture!” he exhorted Falck in a letter of April 1908 (one of many issuing directives to the young man).8 He elaborated on the rationale for this a month later: “By keeping the scenery simple, what matters emerges: the character, role, speech, expression, gestures.”9 Falck concurred, wishing the theatre to “be the home of the art of suggestion, to open up a perspective for the imagination, and so make the spectator himself participate in the dramatic process.” Symbolistic and what would later be called expressionistic techniques were used to highlight areas of the stage in which imagination could reign and altered states could be presented. One example was the usage of “drapes rather than a realistic interior” for a production of The Father.10 While several of his more naturalistic plays such as The Father were retrofitted to suit Strindberg’s new staging philosophy , it was the Chamber Plays that best fit—and this is discernible directly from the dramatic text. Ghostly Props and Not-­ So-­ Hidden Presences Much of the glue that binds the four so-­ called Chamber Plays together is the well-­ timed appearance of properties that either carry symbolic power for the characters or, more expressionistically, convey dreamlike presences—usually of some character that had impact on the lives of the dramatis personae in the past. More pointedly, these presences often seem to exist so as to serve as persistent reminders...

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