Journal articles on the topic 'Harpistas'

Esse artigo discorre a respeito da harpa de pedais e daquele que, possivelmente, teria sido seu repertório ao longo das primeiras décadas do século XVIII, período anterior à primeira publicação conhecida de composições originalmente escritas para o instrumento. Pensando a respeito da música que poderia ter sido executada por intérpretes do instrumento no citado período, o texto foca-se na prática improvisatória dos prelúdios e também na apropriação, por parte dos harpistas, do repertório originalmente destinado a outros instrumentos, como o cravo ou o pianoforte. Nesse contexto, o artigo trata também da figura de Madame de Genlis (1746-1830), importante harpista do século XVIII, bem como de algumas de suas opiniões sobre a técnica e as possibilidades da harpa de pedais utilizada na época.

A representação de músicos cegos foi tema recorrente entre os artistas desde a Antiguidade. O presente estudo descreve historicamente as concepções sobre a figura do músico cego baseado nas obras que atravessam os séculos. A análise da concentração de harpistas na Antiguidade, de tocadores de viola de roda na Idade Média até o Barroco, de violinistas e violonistas entre os séculos XVII e XIX e o aparecimento do acordeão a partir do século XIX permite falar do flutuante papel do músico cego na sociedade. O estudo mostra que na Era Cristã predominava o papel de cego músico, trabalhando na marginalidade e na miséria, onde sua performance musical legitimava a mendicância.

In 1810, Sébastien Érard patented a double-action mechanism that would dramatically alter the trajectory of the pedal harp. While this invention granted the harp a newfound voice in orchestral music, the harp still struggled to gain ground as a solo instrument. The harp’s increased complexity necessitated that harpists themselves explore the instrument’s abilities and demonstrate these to the musical world. It is to one such harpist, Henriette Renié, that the harp owes much of its credibility as an instrument worthy of the solo stage. From her prodigious beginnings at Paris Conservatoire, Renié’s concerts captivated musicians and the public alike. Her spirit on stage exuded a love of the harp and indeed, of beauty itself. Finding existing literature to be somewhat limited, Renié gifted the harp repertoire with significant works that showcased the harp’s virtuosic abilities and inimitable qualities. Yet, her influence might not have been so widespread had it not been for her love of teaching. Committed to cultivating a love of the harp in each of her students, Renié instructed numerous harpists, including Mildred Dilling, Marcel Grandjany, and Susann McDonald. This article demonstrates Mlle. Renié’s vital role in the advancement of the harp as a solo instrument by drawing on biographical information, interview transcriptions, student testimonials, and score study. Renié heralded the harp’s potential for the entirety of her career, and her legacy rightly serves as an inspiration to today’s harpists. In surveying the impact of her performances, compositions, and teaching, it is clear that Mlle. Renié’s mastery of the harp was outmatched only by her love for it.

Although orchestral playing is a dominant practice within Western classical music, and one that many students participate in from a young age, some students do not have adequate opportunities to participate. Since harp students often come to orchestral playing later than other instrumentalists, harp teachers are concerned with enabling their students to learn orchestral playing in a relatively short time. For this study, six orchestral harpists who are also teachers were interviewed. The findings show that harp teachers intentionally taught orchestral playing during one-to-one lessons, aiming to prepare their students to continue learning within the orchestral context. They aimed to bridge the gap between lessons and practice, methodically preparing them musically, technically, practically and emotionally for the complex orchestral environment. While students of other instruments might acquire this complex knowledge from extended orchestral experience, student harpists must learn it in a relatively short time. These harp teachers’ descriptions of their teaching practice shed light on how orchestral playing is learned by all instrumentalists.

Abstract The present paper seeks to illustrate ways of making use of ancient and modern analogues in the process of reconstructing an ancient instrument. In particular, I argue that the elliptic organological information provided by the Protocycladic II statuettes of harpists can to a large extent be supplemented by a comparison with extant Pharaonic harps, and the saùng-gauk of Myanmar. The latter can, furthermore, throw light upon the playing technique of the obsolete Protocycladic harp.

In the middle of the XIX century the musical component of Russia’s cultural ties with Europe significantly increased. This was due to the emergence of romanticism – a revolutionary phenomenon in all forms of art. The touring activity of its creators was a characteristic feature of musical romanticism. Outstanding composers, masterly playing their instruments, introduced a lot of new things to the technique of playing them and to the imaginative sphere of music. They sought to promote their skills in major cities around the world, including St. Petersburg and Moscow. The announcement of their performances and laudatory reviews in the press seemed to fully reflect the state of Russia’s relations with European musical reality. However, the organizational side of the tour, which required a lot of effort on the part of the host and on the part of the tour operators, was not disclosed in the official press. This hidden work was carried out thanks to acquaintances abroad of representatives of the domestic elite with the best musicians in Europe and through their private correspondence. It was done through personal contacts of the Russian enlightened amateurs, which more accurately reflected the depth and nature of our country’s ties with the culture of other countries. The author studied the archival sources in search of information about the appearance in Russia of some guest performers, the structure of their performances and life. The memoirs of contemporaries contain interesting details and direct impressions of the musicians’ playing. This article attempts to show the true value of harpists’ concert touring in our country, their resounding success, noted by the official press. The author highlights the educational role of Russian highly educated music lovers in establishing ties with the best professional musicians in Europe in the middle of the XIX century.

This study was performed to investigate the effect of live, spontaneous harp music on individual patients in an intensive care unit (ICU), either pre- or postoperatively. The purpose was to determine whether this intervention would serve as a relaxation or healing modality, as evidenced by the effect on patient’s pain, heart rate, respiratory rate, blood pressure, oxygen saturation, and heart rate variability. Each consenting patient was randomly assigned to receive either a live 10-minute concert of spontaneous music played by an expert harpist or a 10-minute rest period. Spontaneous harp music significantly decreased patient perception of pain by 27% but did not significantly affect heart rate, respiratory rate, oxygen saturation, blood pressure, or heart rate variability. Trends emerged, although being not statistically significant, that systolic blood pressure increased while heart rate variability decreased. These findings may invoke patient engagement, as opposed to relaxation, as the underlying mechanism of the decrease in the patients’ pain and of the healing benefit that arises from the relationship between healer, healing modality, and patient.

The profession of orchestral musician is often linked to musculoskeletal problems, hearing disorders, and struggles with stage fright. However, data on the prevalence of physical problems are very divergent because of different research methods and sampling procedures. It is to be expected that physical problems generally increase with age, but the literature on medical issues that affect musicians contains very few studies on this aspect. In light of this, the data produced by a cross-sectional study of 2,536 musicians from 133 professional symphony orchestras in Germany were analyzed with regard to a number of health aspects. The data from 894 female (36%) and 1,607 male (64%) professional orchestral musicians aged between 20 and 69 ( M = 45.5, SD = 9.52) were used to study physical problems, their duration and intensity, and psychological difficulties (such as pressure to perform in the orchestra and stage fright) in conjunction with variables such as age, gender, instrument family, position in the orchestra, and category of orchestra. The various health problems were also examined in relation to health behaviors, including preventative actions taken (nutrition, sleep, etc.). The results showed that more than one in two (55%) of the orchestral musicians who took part in the survey were suffering at the time from physical problems that affected their playing. The prevalence increased significantly with advancing age, and string players and harpists had an above-average frequency of experiencing physical problems. Interestingly, there was no significant correlation between the severity of problems and different health behaviors (including preventative action). Around half (49%) of the orchestral musicians said they felt the pressure to perform was intensifying, something that they partly attributed to an increase in artistic demands. The findings are discussed with reference to existing empirical results, potential methods of prevention and treatment, social aspects, and health-care policies.

Abstract On the basis of reports that Jan van Eyck visited England (he was well traveled in the service of Philip the Good, duke of Burgundy), this essay speculates freely on what the diplomat and painter actually did in and around London for three weeks in 1428. The essay claims, for example, that van Eyck went to the village of Foots Cray to buy watercresses to use as models when painting greenery on the Ghent Altarpiece of the Mystic Lamb (which he completed in 1432). The recently erected gateway to the palace at Greenwich is said likewise to be the model for a towered gateway depicted on the altarpiece. After providing local detail about relevant parts of England in 1428, the essay closes with speculation (although the author writes, “The facts are known”) about the origin of a harp, of a purportedly Welsh variety, appearing on the altarpiece in the hands of an angel. The author argues that it was the instrument of an itinerant Breton musician whom van Eyck had heard in recital at the Poor Clares convent of the Holy Trinity at the Minories in Aldgate. The harpist subsequently murdered his Stepney landlady and was himself killed by enraged local housewives. Van Eyck is said to have purchased the man's harp when his worldly goods were posthumously sold.

Abstract . On 22 June 1829, the legendary French harpist, convicted forger and escaped felon, Robert Nicolas Charles Bochsa performed his most infamous musical offense: a rendition of Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony with stage action. Since Grove, this surprisingly early reworking of the Sixth as a ballet-pantomime has not gone down well in the literature. As the twentieth century unfurled, the moment steadily receded into obscurity, losing all cultural and contextual meaning to the point where it is now remembered (if at all) as a lesson in the rogue potential of performance——a pockmark on the historical map. This article will reverse the general slide into amnesia by first excavating this vanished but important moment of the musical past, and then recuperating its seriousness. Enough evidence from the 1820s and 30s suggests that Bochsa's Symphonie (performed at London's King's Theatre) was representative of much more than itself. Far from historically inexplicable, it can be read as an extreme manifestation of a strongly defined ballet-concert exchange that characterized the artistic trends of the late 1820s. By taking on abstract and ““musical”” forms, dance was becoming more concertlike. Concerts, meanwhile, were developing balletic traits in their increasing use of picturesque effects, and their growing fascination for the visual or bodily aspects of musical performance. A rapprochement took place that reshaped the nature of listening and figured the emerging concept of the musical work in a curiously plastic, objective way——as the case study exemplifies.

История создания и дальнейшая судьба Концерта для арфы с оркестром А. И. Кос-Анатольского рассматриваются на основе писем композитора к выдающейся отечественной арфистке К. А. Эрдели, принявшей активное участие в появлении этого сочинения, а также ставшей первой его исполнительницей. Эпистолярий, относящийся к периоду 1954–1970 годов, посвящен процессу работы Кос-Анатольского над партитурой и голосами первого украинского концерта для арфы. Одной из центральных тем корреспонденции также становится исполнительская и издательская судьба сочинения. В целом письма дают возможность составить живой портрет композитора, с полной отдачей посвятившего себя созданию советского произведения концертного жанра для арфы. Также предлагается взгляд на положение Концерта Кос-Анатольского в отечественном арфовом репертуаре. The article is dedicated to the history of creation and the future fate of the Concerto for harp and orchestra by Anatoliy Kos-Anatolsky, which are considered on the basis of the composer’s letters to the outstanding national harpist Kseniya Erdeli, who took an active part in the appearance of this composition, and also became its first performer. The epistolary dating back to the period of 1954–1970 is dedicated to the process of Kos-Anatolsky’s work on the score and voices of the first Ukrainian concerto for harp. One of the central topics of the correspondence is also the performing and publishing fate of the work. In general, the letters make it possible to draw a live portrait of the composer, who fully immersed himself in creating the Soviet work of the concert genre for harp. It also offers a look at the place of the newly created composition in the national harp repertoire.

Sébastien Erard (1752–1831) is widely considered the father of the modern harp, in part because of his invention (c. 1786) of the forked discs that shorten the vibrating length of the strings by a semitone, but above all for his 1810 invention of the double action, a mechanical system that allows the harpist to play in all keys and which has been used on virtually all concert pedal harps for the past two centuries. However, Erard’s double-action harp model was similar to that of the Warsaw-born artist and inventor Charles Gröll (1770–1857), who had submitted his patent in 1807, almost three years before Erard. Moreover, Erard bought the rights to Gröll’s patent prior to finalising his own. For these reasons, some critics since the nineteenth century have called into question Erard’s claim to authorship of the double-action harp, suggesting that Gröll was its true inventor. The purpose of the present article is to clarify Gröll’s role by placing it in the context of the evolution of Erard’s ideas, established by a number of sources that have recently come to light. Gröll’s patent is more heavily indebted to Erard’s inventions than Erard’s patent is to Gröll’s. Indeed, the only elements from Gröll’s patent that remained in Erard’s 1810 patent were elements that had in fact been invented by Erard: the double-notched pedal box and the forked discs. The linkage between the pedals and the forked discs was the weakest part of Gröll’s patent, one that was conspicuously not adopted by Erard, undoubtedly due to the excessive friction inherent in its construction. Erard’s 1810 patent has endured because it proved itself to be the first satisfyingly functional double-action system. However, Gröll’s doubling of the forked discs can be seen as a crucial step in the evolution of the double action, as long as one keeps in mind that Gröll’s is a composite invention whose individual parts had all been invented by others: the double mechanism by Cousineau, and the double-notched pedal box and forked disc by Erard. In conclusion, if we continue to consider Erard the father of the double-action harp, we might at least allow for Georges Cousineau to be its spiritual godfather, and for Charles Gröll to be its Polish uncle.

On 29 August 1865, an audience of critics and the general public gathered at the Salle Herz in Paris to witness and pass judgment on the results of an experiment set up three years earlier by the instrument manufacturer Alphonse Sax Jr, who aimed to demonstrate not only that women were capable of playing brass instruments, but that it was in their interests — on moral, health and potentially even career grounds — to do so. Although this concert of brass-band music, with supplementary items for harp and voice, marked the band's third public appearance (they had performed at the Palais d'Industrie in December 1864 and at a brass-band competition in Orbec earlier in August 1865), it was their first appearance at a major concert venue and represented their début in front of the massed Parisian press. When they walked on stage, members of the audience sniggered at the sight of a group of young women carrying brass instruments covering the entire range from the portable cornet to the heavyweights of the bass section. Plainly dressed, with only moderately full skirts, they proceeded to play an arrangement of Partant pour la Syrie, a popular romance set as a quick march, which was then thought to be by Eugénie de Beauharnais, and which under the reign of her son Napoléon III had gained the status of a national hymn. The march had been arranged by the group's conductor, Laure Micheli, who directed the ensemble in two other pieces. To wide acclaim, Émilie Lacroix then played a set of variations for cornet à pistons, arranged by J.-B. Dias, on the tune Le carnaval de Venise. The remaining members of the sextet are shadowy figures: Mlle Dias on second cornet (presumably the sister or daughter of the arranger Dias), Mlle Suzanne Legrand and Mme Neckra in the alto section, and Mlle Marie Legrand (presumably the sister of Suzanne) and Mme Worms playing bass instruments. The supporting artists were all women: the singers Mlle Marcus (also referred to in the press as Mlle Marens or Mlle Marius) and Mme Neulat de Chambon, and the harpist Mlle Waldteufel (a joint first-prize winner at the Paris Conservatoire and former pupil of Antoine Prumier); Suzanne Legrand doubled as accompanist for the singers.

Neste artigo estudam-se as possibilidades de dispor os pedais da Harpa de Concerto para a execução de <em>glissandi</em> conforme os exemplos encontrados nos tratados de orquestração. Estudam-se os princípios envolvidos nas disposições possíveis dos pedais usando-se o sistema numérico de base três para a notação e, enfocam-se as possíveis coleções de notas pela teoria dos conjuntos de classes de notas com um tratamento estatístico. O objeto é prover compositores, harpistas e estudantes de música com informações coligidas de várias fontes para elaboração de material pré-compositivo ou para pesquisa.

Este artigo apresenta uma discussão sobre os elementos musicais e extramusicais (BLACKING, 1973) constituintes da Polca paraguaia. O objeto de análise utilizado é a gravação da música Galopera, interpretada pelo harpista Luís Bordón no disco “La Paloma” de 1998. Obteve-se como resultado a verificação dos conceitos musicológicos dos autores paraguaios, como o sincopado paraguaio e a polirritmia constante. Foi discutido também o conceito de táticas (CERTEAU,1998) de resistência à invisibilização dos paraguaios nos meios de produção discográfica no Brasil.

IntroductionThe European will to modify the natural world emerged through English landscape design during the eighteenth century. Released from the neo-classical aesthetic dichotomy of the beautiful and the ugly, new categories of the picturesque and the sublime gestured towards an affective relationship to nature. Europeans began to see the world as a picture, the elements of which were composed as though part of a theatrical scene. Quite literally, as I shall discuss below, gardens were “composed with ‘pantomimic’ elements – ruins of castles and towers, rough hewn bridges, Chinese pagodas and their like” (McGillivray 134–35) transforming natural vistas into theatrical scenes. Such a transformation was made possible by a habit of spectating that was informed by the theatrical metaphor or theatrum mundi, one version of which emphasised the relationship between spectator and the thing seen. The idea of the natural world as an aesthetic object first developed in poetry and painting and then through English landscape garden style was wrought in three dimensions on the land itself. From representations of place a theatrical transformation occurred so that gardens became a places of representation.“The Genius of the Place in All”The eighteenth century inherited theatrum mundi from the Renaissance, although the genealogy of its key features date back to ancient times. Broadly speaking, theatrum mundi was a metaphorical expression of the world and humanity in two ways: dramaturgically and formally. During the Renaissance the dramaturgical metaphor was a moral emblem concerned with the contingency of human life; as Shakespeare famously wrote, “men and women [were] merely players” whose lives consisted of “seven ages” or “acts” (2.7.139–65). In contrast to the dramaturgical metaphor with its emphasis on role-playing humanity, the formalist version highlighted a relationship between spectator, theatre-space and spectacle. Rooted in Renaissance neo-Platonism, the formalist metaphor configured the world as a spectacle and “Man” its spectator. If the dramaturgical metaphor was inflected with medieval moral pessimism, the formalist metaphor was more optimistic.The neo-Platonist spectator searched in the world for a divine plan or grand design and spectatorship became an epistemological challenge. As a seer and a knower on the world stage, the human being became the one who thought about the world not just as a theatre but also through theatre. This is apparent in the etymology of “theatre” from the Greek theatron, or “seeing place,” but the word also shares a stem with “theory”: theaomai or “to look at.” In a graceful compression of both roots, Martin Heidegger suggests a “theatre” might be any “seeing place” in which any thing being beheld offers itself to careful scrutiny by the beholder (163–65). By the eighteenth century, the ancient idea of a seeing-knowing place coalesced with the new empirical method and aesthetic sensibility: the world was out there, so to speak, to provide pleasure and instruction.Joseph Addison, among others, in the first half of the century reconsidered the utilitarian appeal of the natural world and proposed it as the model for artistic inspiration and appreciation. In “Pleasures of the Imagination,” a series of essays in The Spectator published in 1712, Addison claimed that “there is something more bold and masterly in the rough careless strokes of nature, than in the nice touches and embellishments of art,” and compared to the beauty of an ordered garden, “the sight wanders up and down without confinement” the “wide fields of nature” and is “fed with an infinite variety of images, without any certain stint or number” (67).Yet art still had a role because, Addison argues, although “wild scenes [. . .] are more delightful than any artificial shows” the pleasure of nature increases the more it begins to resemble art; the mind experiences the “double” pleasure of comparing nature’s original beauty with its copy (68). This is why “we take delight in a prospect which is well laid out, and diversified, with fields and meadows, woods and rivers” (68); a carefully designed estate can be both profitable and beautiful and “a man might make a pretty landskip of his own possessions” (69). Although nature should always be one’s guide, nonetheless, with some small “improvements” it was possible to transform an estate into a landscape picture. Nearly twenty years later in response to the neo-Palladian architectural ambitions of Richard Boyle, the third Earl of Burlington, and with a similarly pictorial eye to nature, Alexander Pope advised:To build, to plant, whatever you intend,To rear the Column, or the Arch to bend,To swell the Terras, or to sink the Grot;In all, let Nature never be forgot.But treat the Goddess like a modest fair,Nor over-dress, nor leave her wholly bare;Let not each beauty ev’ry where be spy’d,Where half the skill is decently to hide.He gains all points, who pleasingly confounds,Surprizes, varies, and conceals the Bounds.Consult the Genius of the Place in all;That tells the Waters or to rise, or fall,Or helps th’ ambitious Hill the heav’ns to scale,Or scoops in circling theatres the Vale,Calls in the Country, catches opening glades, Joins willing woods, and varies shades from shades,Now breaks or now directs, th’ intending Lines;Paints as you plant, and, as you work, designs. (Epistle IV, ll 47–64) Whereas Addison still gestured towards estate management, Pope explicitly advocated a painterly approach to garden design. His epistle articulated some key principles that he enacted in his own garden at Twickenham and which would inform later garden design. No matter what one added to a landscape, one needed to be guided by nature; one should be moderate in one’s designs and neither plant too much nor too little; one must be aware of the spectator’s journey through the garden and take care to provide variety by creating “surprises” that would be revealed at different points. Finally, one had to find the “spirit” of the place that gave it its distinct character and use this to create the cohesion in diversity that was aspired to in a garden. Nature’s aestheticisation had begun with poetry, developed into painting, and was now enacted on actual natural environments with the emergence of English landscape style. This painterly approach to gardening demanded an imaginative, emotional, and intellectual engagement with place and it stylistically rejected the neo-classical geometry and regularity of the baroque garden (exemplified by Le Nôtre’s gardens at Versailles). Experiencing landscape now took on a third dimension as wealthy landowners and their friends put themselves within the picture frame and into the scene. Although landscape style changed during the century, a number of principles remained more or less consistent: the garden should be modelled on nature but “improved,” any improvements should not be obvious, pictorial composition should be observed, the garden should be concerned with the spectator’s experience and should aim to provoke an imaginative or emotional engagement with it. During the seventeenth century, developments in theatrical technology, particularly the emergence of the proscenium arch theatre with moveable scenery, showed that poetry and painting could be spectacularly combined on the stage. Later in the eighteenth century the artist and stage designer Philippe Jacques de Loutherbourg combined picturesque painting aesthetics with theatrical design in works such as The Wonders of Derbyshire in 1779 (McGillivray 136). It was a short step to shift the onstage scene outside. Theatricality was invoked when pictorial principles were applied three dimensionally; gardens became sites for pastoral genre scenes that ambiguously positioned their visitors both as spectators and actors. Theatrical SceneryGardens and theatres were explicitly connected. Like “theatre,” the word “garden” was sometimes used to describe a collection, in book form, which promised “a whole world of items” which was not always “redeemable” in “straightforward ways” (Hunt, Gardens 54–55). Theatrum mundi could be emblematically expressed in a garden through statues and architectural fabriques which drew spectators into complex chains of associations involving literature, art, and society, as they progressed through it.In the previous century, writes John Dixon Hunt, “the expectation of a fine garden [. . .] was that it work upon its visitor, involving him [sic] often insidiously as a participant in its dramas, which were presented to him as he explored its spaces by a variety of statues, inscriptions and [. . .] hydraulically controlled automata” (Gardens 54). Such devices, which featured heavily in the Italian baroque garden, were by the mid eighteenth century seen by English and French garden theorists to be overly contrived. Nonetheless, as David Marshall argues, “eighteenth-century garden design is famous for its excesses [. . .] the picturesque garden may have aimed to be less theatrical, but it aimed no less to be theater” (38). Such gardens still required their visitors’ participation and were designed to deliver an experience that stimulated the spectators’ imaginations and emotions as they moved through them. Theatrum mundi is implicit in eighteenth-century gardens through a common idea of the world reimagined into four geographical quadrants emblematically represented by fabriques in the garden. The model here is Alexander Pope’s influential poem, “The Temple of Fame” (1715), which depicted the eponymous temple with four different geographic faces: its western face was represented by western classical architecture, its east face by Chinese, Persian, and Assyrian, its north was Gothic and Celtic, and its south, Egyptian. These tropes make their appearance in eighteenth-century landscape gardens. In Désert de Retz, a garden created between 1774 and 1789 by François Racine de Monville, about twenty kilometres west of Paris, one can still see amongst its remaining fabriques: a ruined “gothic” church, a “Tartar” tent (it used to have a Chinese maison, now lost), a pyramid, and the classically inspired Temple of Pan. Similar principles underpin the design of Jardin (now Parc) Monceau that I discuss below. Retz: Figure 1. Tartar tent.Figure 2. Temple of PanStowe Gardens in Buckinghamshire has a similar array of structures (although the classical predominates) including its original Chinese pavillion. It, too, once featured a pyramid designed by the architect and playwright John Vanbrugh, and erected as a memorial to him after his death in 1726. On it was carved a quote from Horace that explicitly referenced the dramaturgical version of theatrum mundi: You have played, eaten enough and drunk enough,Now is time to leave the stage for younger men. (Garnett 19) Stowe’s Elysian Fields, designed by William Kent in the 1730s according to picturesque principles, offered its visitor two narrative choices, to take the Path of Virtue or the Path of Vice, just like a re-imagined morality play. As visitors progressed along their chosen paths they would encounter various fabriques and statues, some carved with inscriptions in either Latin or English, like the Vanbrugh pyramid, that would encourage associations between the ancient world and the contemporary world of the garden’s owner Richard Temple, Lord Cobham, and his circle. Stowe: Figure 3. Chinese Pavillion.Figure 4. Temple of VirtueKent’s background was as a painter and scene designer and he brought a theatrical sensibility to his designs; as Hunt writes, Kent particularly enjoyed designing “recessions into woodland space where ‘wings’ [were] created” (Picturesque 29). Importantly, Kent’s garden drawings reveal his awareness of gardens as “theatrical scenes for human action and interaction, where the premium is upon more personal experiences” and it this spatial dimension that was opened up at Stowe (Picturesque 30).Picturesque garden design emphasised pictorial composition that was similar to stage design and because a garden, like a stage, was a three-dimensional place for human action, it could also function as a set for that action. Unlike a painting, a garden was experiential and time-based and a visitor to it had an experience not unlike, to cautiously use an anachronism, a contemporary promenade performance. The habit of imaginatively wandering through a theatre in book-form, moving associatively from one item to the next, trying to discern the author’s pattern or structure, was one educated Europeans were used to, and a garden provided an embodied dimension to this activity. We can see how this might have been by visiting Parc Monceau in Paris which still contains remnants of the garden designed by Louis Carrogis (known as Carmontelle) for the Duc de Chartres in the 1770s. Carmontelle, like Kent, had a theatrical background and his primary role was as head of entertainments for the Orléans family; as such he was responsible for designing and writing plays for the family’s private theatricals (Hays 449). According to Hunt, Carmontelle intended visitors to Jardin de Monceau to take a specific itinerary through its “quantity of curious things”:Visitors entered by a Chinese gateway, next door to a gothic building that served as a chemical laboratory, and passed through greenhouses and coloured pavilions. Upon pressing a button, a mirrored wall opened into a winter garden painted with trompe-l’œil trees, floored with red sand, filled with exotic plants, and containing at its far end a grotto in which supper parties were held while music was played in the chamber above. Outside was a farm. Then there followed a series of exotic “locations”: a Temple of Mars, a winding river with an island of rocks and a Dutch mill, a dairy, two flower gardens, a Turkish tent poised, minaret-like, above an icehouse, a grove of tombs [. . .], and an Italian vineyard with a classical Bacchus at its center, regularly laid out to contrast with an irregular wood that succeeded it. The final stretches of the itinerary included a Naumachia or Roman water-theatre [. . .], more Turkish and Chinese effects, a ruined castle, yet another water-mill, and an island on which sheep grazed. (Picturesque 121) Monceau: Figure 5. Naumachia.Figure 6. PyramidIn its presentation of a multitude of different times and different places one can trace a line of descent from Jardin de Monceau to the great nineteenth-century World Expos and on to Disneyland. This lineage is not as trite as it seems once we realise that Carmontelle himself intended the garden to represent “all times and all places” and Pope’s four quadrants of the world were represented by fabriques at Monceau (Picturesque 121). As Jardin de Monceau reveals, gardens were also sites for smaller performative interventions such as the popular fêtes champêtres, garden parties in which the participants ate, drank, danced, played music, and acted in comedies. Role playing and masquerade were an important part of the fêtes as we see, for example, in Jean-Antoine Watteau’s Fêtes Vénitiennes (1718–19) where a “Moorishly” attired man addresses (or is dancing with) a young woman before an audience of young men and women, lolling around a fabrique (Watteau). Scenic design in the theatre inspired garden designs and gardens “featured prominently as dramatic locations in intermezzi, operas, and plays”, an exchange that encouraged visitors to gardens to see themselves as performers as much as spectators (Hunt, Gardens 64). A garden, particularly within the liminal aegis of a fête was a site for deceptions, tricks, ruses and revelations, assignations and seductions, all activities which were inherently theatrical; in such a garden visitors could find themselves acting in or watching a comedy or drama of their own devising. Marie-Antoinette built English gardens and a rural “hamlet” at Versailles. She and her intimate circle would retire to rustic cottages, which belied the opulence of their interiors, and dressed in white muslin dresses and straw hats, would play at being dairy maids, milking cows (pre-cleaned by the servants) into fine porcelain buckets (Martin 3). Just as the queen acted in pastoral operas in her theatre in the grounds of the Petit Trianon, her hamlet provided an opportunity for her to “live” a pastoral fantasy. Similarly, François Racine de Monville, who commissioned Désert de Retz, was a talented harpist and flautist and his Temple of Pan was, appropriately, a music room.Versailles: Figure 7. Hamlet ConclusionRichard Steele, Addison’s friend and co-founder of The Spectator, casually invoked theatrum mundi when he wrote in 1720: “the World and the Stage [. . .] have been ten thousand times observed to be the Pictures of one another” (51). Steele’s reiteration of a Renaissance commonplace revealed a different emphasis, an emphasis on the metaphor’s spatial and spectacular elements. Although Steele reasserts the idea that the world and stage resemble each other, he does so through a third level of abstraction: it is as pictures that they have an affinity. World and stage are both positioned for the observer within complementary picture frames and it is as pictures that he or she is invited to make sense of them. The formalist version of theatrum mundi invokes a spectator beholding the world for his (usually!) pleasure and in the process nature itself is transformed. No longer were natural landscapes wildernesses to be tamed and economically exploited, but could become gardens rendered into scenes for their aristocratic owners’ pleasure. Désert de Retz, as its name suggests, was an artfully composed wilderness, a version of the natural world sculpted into scenery. Theatrum mundi, through the aesthetic category of the picturesque, emerged in English landscape style and effected a theatricalised transformation of nature that was enacted in the aristocratic gardens of Europe.ReferencesAddison, Joseph. The Spectator. No. 414 (25 June 1712): 67–70. Eighteenth Century Collections Online.Garnett, Oliver. Stowe. Buckinghamshire. The National Trust, 2011.Hays, David. “Carmontelle's Design for the Jardin de Monceau: A Freemasonic Garden in Late-Eighteenth-Century France.” Eighteenth-Century Studies 32.4 (1999): 447–62.Heidegger, Martin. The Question Concerning Technology and Other Essays. Trans. William Lovitt. New York: Harper and Row, 1977.Hunt, John Dixon. Gardens and the Picturesque: Studies in the History of Landscape Architecture. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1992.———. The Picturesque Garden in Europe. London: Thames and Hudson, 2002.Marshall, David. The Frame of Art. Fictions of Aesthetic Experience, 1750–1815. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 2005.Martin, Meredith S. Dairy Queens: The Politics of Pastoral Architecture from Catherine de' Medici to Marie-Antoinette. Harvard: Harvard UP, 2011.McGillivray, Glen. "The Picturesque World Stage." Performance Research 13.4 (2008): 127–39.Pope, Alexander. “Epistle IV. To Richard Boyle, Earl of Burlington.” Epistles to Several Persons. London, 1744. Eighteenth Century Collections Online.———. The Temple of Fame: A Vision. By Mr. Pope. 2nd ed. London, 1715. Eighteenth Century Collections Online. Shakespeare, William. As You Like It. Ed. Agnes Latham. London: Routledge, 1991.Steele, Richard. The Theatre. No. 7 (23 January 1720).