Q^J^^3^±^ Book _^_j-u. PRESENTED BT 1 ''' i 1 cT. L IF E The Seventeenth (^rove T^lay of the Bohemian Qlub 1919 LIFE BY HARRY LEON WILSON MUSIC BY DOMENICO BRESCIA THE SEVENTEENTH GROVE PLAY OF THE BOHEMIAN CLUB OF SAN FRANCISCO, AS PERFORMED BY ITS MEMBERS IN THE BOHEMIAN GROVE, SONOMA COUNTY, CALIFORNIA, ON THE TWENTY-EIGHTH NIGHT OF JUNE, NINETEEN HUNDRED AND NINETEEN t SAN FRANCISCO THE BOHEMIAN CLUB 1919 %o^ A ,.n copyright, i9i9 By The Bohemian Club PRESS OF THE H. S. CROCKER CO., INC. SAN FRANCISCO ."^rHt-Ttr- — • rf) LU' CAST OF CHARACTERS THE SOWER OG JAD TULL FIRST TRIBESMAN SECOND TRIBESMAN THIRD TRIBESMAN FOURTH TRIBESMAN FIFTH TRIBESMAN SIXTH TRIBESMAN SEVENTH TRIBESMAN EIGHTH TRIBESMAN NINTH TRIBESMAN TENTH TRIBESMAN ELEVENTH TRIBESMAN TWELFTH TRIBESMAN THE WOMAN Samuel J. Hume Henry A. Melvin Dion Holm William S. Rainey M. C. Threlkeld Wm. B, Sanborn W. A. Bryant George H. Evans R. W. Davis Dewey Coffin W. A. Setchell Theodor Vogt Bush Finnell W. A. Doble H, B. Johnson, Jr. E. H. Denicke David Eisenbach Seedsmerty Flowers, Fruits, Women VOICES AND CHORUS INTERLUDE A VOICE {in the Chant of Annunciation) Charles Bulotti FIRST VOICE R. H. Lachmund SECOND VOICE Easton Kent THIRD VOICE E. J. Cardinall F. N. Anderson H. E. Hare W. H. Orr A. A. Arbogast R. B. Heath H, L Perry H. K. Baxter C. Herold G. Purlenky E. Blanchard W. F. Hooke A. L. Piper R. A. Brown W. H. HOPKINSON C. A. Rieser C. F. Bulotti Otis Johnson E. W. Roland W. H. Blatchly A. G. Kellogg Benj. Romaine E. J. Cardinall Easton Kent J. D. RUGGLES P. S. Carlton R. H. Lachmund A. W. Sperry Wm. Cross A. F. Lawton A. H. Still W. W. Davis R. LUNDGREN B. M. Stich T. G. Elliott R. I. Lynas John Stroud D. ElSENBACH E. H. McCandlish E. L. Taylor C. E. Engvick M. McCuRRIE A. W. Thomas C. J. Evans J. McEwiNG C. F. Volker R. E. Fisher W. A. Mitchell T. G. Whitaker G. H. FORMAN P. J. Mohr M. H. White E. Gerson L. B. O'Brien G. R. Williams W. E. Hague Wm. Olney A. Y. Wood GROUPS SEEDSMEN E. D. Chipman R. D. Holabird S. O. Johnson J. R. GWYNN R. M. HOTALING B. G. McDoUGALL E. D. Shortudge Otto Westerfeld R. I. Bentley, Jr. C. T. Beringer J. Black C. BORGESON E. Cameron F. A. Corbusier FLOWERS R. F. COYLE E. CULLINAN H. A. W. Dinning A. R. Fennimore P. K. Funke W. C. Hays G. HoTALING B. Marsh J. F. Sheehy R. J. SOMERS J. A. Thompson W. G. VOLKMANN R. I. Bentley, Jr. C, T, Beringer J. Black C. Borgeson E. Cameron F. W. Carey F. A. Corbusier R. F. CoYLE R. L. FRUITS F, B. Elkins J. F. English P. K. Funke J. R. GwYNN W. C. Hays G. HoTALING I. S. LiLLICK B. F. LuM White B. Marsh H. H. Miller W. H. Robinson J. F. Sheehy J. R. Sloan C. Taylor H. H. Taylor J. A. Thompson J. A. Young STAGE DIRECTOR MASTER OF LIGHTING Frank L. Mathieu Edward J. Duffey Ensembles of the Prelude, Interlude, and Finale devised and directed by Harris C. Allen CONDUCTOR CHORUS MASTER CONCERT MASTER Domenico Brescia Eugene Blanchard Arthur Argiewicz LIFE PROLOGUE A glade at the foot of a wooded hill shrouded in dark- ness. Musicis heard^ and the figure of the Sower is seen, su^used with lights high on the hillside. The Sower Now hear ye, O Life! I am the Sower, come to sow more life. I am the constant, the timeless. One little moment past, sowed I in the void — I sowed star dust. And from that misty seed, quick with life. The round earth shaped beneath me; Crag, valley, sea, mountain and vale. The new sphere swung to its appointed path. \^The humming of a distant chorus is heard from the darkness. Then sowed I other seed, so urgent That the dead earth pulsed to my tread With vine and flower and fruit. One little moment since and all these mighty growths, These purple pillars, draped in shadowy green. Were but seed, leaving my hand. Sowed I seed of milky fire mist, Ever more seed. And life spawned upon itself — [7] Swam, crawled, flew, walked upright, Then spoke! Voices {singing) Life spoke its fearful wonder in itself. Life come to its first dim knowledge of life; Finding it so good that it would rest upon itself. Now in this star-born glade it would rest evermore, Dreaming its last victory be won. But Thou, the Sower, timeless and constant. Now bring *st new seed to sow. New seeds of life unending, building ever upon itself. Thou art the never-ending, all-wanting, all-begetting; Thou the timeless, the constant, — so old — so young. The Sower Oh, I am old, yet ageless. Old as all time, young as this speeding instant. I, the unceasing sower. From this unbeginning ferment of star dust I have conjured seed, bud, blossom. Then the ripened fruit. And to what end the labor, The endless tortured cycle ? I know not. Even I, the Sower, know not; Save this: That from all agony and travail. From that heaped hand of star dust I spilled in the great void, I have brought Man. Man I hold as my reward! [8] A Voice {from the darkness) Poor little Man! So vast a fruit, so splendid, Yet so fearful of all beyond him! So glorious a coward; Poor little Man! Other Voices Now Man will worship and fear Thee, the Sower, As one beyond, who must know the secret. Yet even Thou must worship one still beyond Who will know the secret, the secret hid from Thee. The Sower From star dust to earth, From earth to Man, From Man to what shining consummation ? I know not — even I — Save this: that I must ever sow. And Man must ever dare new pain. I, the timeless one, the constant. All-wanting, all-begetting, I am worshipped as Creator, Yet know I only that I, myself, am creature, Even as Man; know only that our common fate is— wanting. I, too, would rest in still delight. Here in this star-born glade. But may not, from the goad Of still another sower. Beyond, invisible to me! [9] One law have I found, one law alone In all time's outflung maze: Man must want and ever want. Even as I, the Sower, must he become. All-wanting, all-begetting. Now must he ache with discontent. Even as that first eager star dust That would have no rest till it had wrought This earth to rounded beauty. Now must he throb with starved desire Even as throbbed the tiny seeds That could not still their pain till these great trees Searched out the stars! Lo, I call ye now, ye tireless sowers! Though it be curse, though it be gift benign, Come forth, ye tireless sowers. Sow ye the seed of Man's divine desire! \^The Seedsmen appear at the top of the trail below the Sower. One figure appears at first andy from a seed-basket^ flings silver particles into the light which now surrounds him. Another ap- pears on the path below and makes a similar gesture^ and so on down the hill. As they de- scend the hill the voices are again heard. Voices {singing) Now Man is come, finely fashioned, joyously wondering, savoring huge delights. He would rest content with stores drawn from his fruitful earth. In sloth of fed desire he would end the cycle, thwart the plan. [lo] And this he may not do. Nay, little Man, who would rest here, Safe from wanting, knowing not the law. Knowing not life's fevered pains and efforts. Nor yet its exaltations! We sow you here the quick imperious seed of discontent. You may no longer rest. Your curse — your gift — Be endless wanting, endless getting. You would end the cycle, thwart the plan. This you may not do! {fThe chorale concludes with the Seedsmen grouped upon the hillside. One of their number steps forward and scatters special seed down the bank where the Bush of Wanting is to grow. The Sower Now have I sown the quick hot seed of discontent, the old want, ever new. Now have I sown the seed of the old urge, ever young. [ T^he Bush of Wanting rises from the ferns of the bank. Behold the bush of wanting! See it rise from the quickened earth. Its fruit is red with lure of life; Its fruit is hot with imperious desire. Little earth-bred men, you shall mouth its heating fruit And you shall ache with all the want of your young world. Oh, you shall thrill to the first faint call Of strange old pains, of strange old joys. And find them strangely new. Delight and terror you shall know And torturing want shall bring you Life in its endless cycle. Come, little men, eat in new fear, Little men, born of earth. Little men who have not known woman! [T he fruit of the bush glows with light. 'The Seeds- men slowly withdraw^ their hands outstretched toward the glowing bush. Even now the fruit quickens. The urge that thrilled the very star dust hath arrogantly sped it. Come, little men who have not known woman, your other self awaits you — woman awaits you! The endless cycle of torture and ecstacy! Come, Life leaps to the call! [The Sower vanishes. [12] EPISODE I. [yf party of hunters assembles in the scene. They are armed with spearSy bowSy clubs. The men are rather youngs clad in skins ^ or rough stuffs of fibrCy woodsy looking. The chief only is old; he is faty gross ^ bearded. They bring a couple of deer and the carcass of some huge^ grotesque animal. On one side is seen the mouth of the tribal cave. The Tribesmen deposit their arms there. The slaughtered game is thrown down before the mouth of the cave and afire is lighted. Meat is cooked. They gather about the fire and eat hungrily. While the meat is cookings Jad starts up and stares intently at something across and a little up the hillside. His action is ob- served by TuLL. TULL What now ? What do you see ? Jad Look ! A strange bush has grown there since we left the cave at dawn. TuLL I see no bush. How could that be } Jad But look! At the foot of the bank. A strange new bush and it bears fruit — red fruit. [13] TULL Yes; now I see red fruit, and it was not there at dawn, nor did I ever see that bush with the long, pointed leaves. And it has thorns — great thorns that would stab. Jad Come, let us see it close. TuLL Be slow, now; touch it gently. Those thorns will stab; the very leaves are pointed. They'll prick. {They stand over the shrub. Jad But that fruit — the ripe, red fruit; see how it glistens, and how it swells with its own juice. It must be sweet to the taste. Come, we'll eat. \^He is about to pluck one of the fruits; Toll stays his arm. TuLL No, stay! See how the great thorns and the pointed leaves protect it. Jad {laughing) I have killed a tiger. Am I afraid of thorns and little pointed leaves ? \^He reaches again for the fruit; Tull stays his arm and draws him back a step from the bush. Tull No, you are not afraid of thorns and little points. But this is a strange bush. It is not as other bushes we know [14] that bear fruit. It grows in a day and bears ripe fruit. The fruits we know that are good must have months for their ripening. This may not be good. I remember a shiny, yellow fruit the tribe once ate — how it sickened and killed many. They burned with a fever and it killed them. This fruit may be Hke that, not meant for us to eat. Come away ; it may rot as quickly as it grew. Come ! We know enough fruits that do not kill ; we want no more. Jad But now I do want more. While I have stood here, even before I have touched it, a want for this fruit has come upon me like a little fever. Oh, I know it will have a rich taste in the mouth. I must have it. [//(? reaches for it but Tull again stays him. TULL But stay a little, then. Let us watch to see if the birds eat of it. See, no bird has yet touched it. No! No bird would touch it. The fruit is ripe to bursting, yet its skin has no scars from the beaks of birds. If it were good fruit the birds would have come to it. I do not think it is good. It is beautiful, but so was the other fruit that killed. This is even fairer; fairer than any fruit we know, and ripe to bursting. I think it must be bad. Yet we'll watch; if the birds should come to eat, then we'll know it may be good, — but all day no bird has come. That's bad! Jad Yes, it is a strange fruit, but it may not be bad. I think it must be good. I want it more than any other fruit. See! My hands creep toward it, though I do not make them; my lips open for it, my throat is dry for its juice. [■5] TuLL {trying to draw Jad back) But leave it now, and watch if the birds come. Jad {resisting) Yes, we'll watch if the birds come. But I'll pick one — just one. Not to eat, not to taste, but to hold here in my hand, {reaching for the fruit) We'll show it to the rest. TuLL Be careful! Careful of the great thorns! Careful of those pointed leaves! Death might be in their sting. Jad {reaching into the shrub) A thorn has scratched me. And the leaves have needle points. One has pricked me and brought a drop of blood, but see, here is a ripe fruit, {holding it up) Oh, it is hot in my fingers. I can feel the slow, rich juice coursing inside. It must be a good fruit sent to us by the Above- persons. There is another drop of blood on my wrist. This is a good fruit sent to us by the Above-persons and guarded by sharp points so that only we may take it. TuLL Not all fruit is sent to us by the Above-persons — remember the shiny yellow fruit that killed — Jad But I have a little fever for this; my throat is dry for the juice of it. My throat tightens for it. One little taste — this fruit has made me want it. TuLL No, no! The blood on your wrist comes again. That thorn pricked deep. Don't taste it yet. Wait for the [.6] birds. If the Above-persons have sent this fruit the birds will come to it. They eat the fruits we eat. Wait for the birds. Bring that one carefully and show to the rest. Here, let me take it — your hands go to your mouth with it. [TuLL takes the fruit from Jad, who follows him across to the fire. Jad looks back to the bushy leaving it reluctantly. The men are still eating meat voraciously. All look up as Jad and Tull approach. Tull {holding out the fruit) See, a strange new fruit! Jad A new fruit that makes me want it. I held it in my hand, not tasting it, and my throat snarled for it. I have not known so fierce a want even for meat at the end of a long hunt. It is like a new want. [Og, who has meat in each hand at which he alter- nately gnaws ^ rises. Og What's this of new wants .^ We want no new wants. A fruit, is it ? ■ \He stops eating and eyes the fruit as Tull extends it. Well, fruits may be good, though they are not meat for a man's teeth. They are poor things to bite. But this is a new fruit. I have seen none like it in all these great woods. Is it sweet ? Jad {quickly taking the fruit from Tull) We have not tasted. It is a new fruit. The bush was not there at dawn when we left the cave. Now it is full [■7] grown and thick-leaved, with great thorns, and the fruit hangs ripe. Here in my hand I feel its hot juice stir, I feel it run and burn, and all in this ten hours it has come to its growth — a strange fruit that leaves my mouth parched for it. I never wanted any other fruit; and this, even before I touched it, fired me with wanting. I felt a little fever for it. Now that I have touched it, and its needle-pointed leaves have brought my blood — now I have a big fever for it. Now I ache with wanting to mouth it. The Above- persons have sent it to us. Og {who has fallen to his meat again) Fruit is not meat — even fruit with a hot juice. Would it stay in the mouth and goad a man's teeth like this back- fat of a deer.^ I'd rather have even a strip of that deer's belly-fat than all the pretty fruit in these woods. \He eats again. Jad {still holding the fruity fingering it curiously) I know! I'm a man for meat myself; but this fruit draws me to it. See where its thorn scratched my flesh and its needle-pointed leaves have pricked me. Little wounds, but they have made me glow with a great fever. I am hot to eat this thing and I want no meat. I want this fruit; it is a new want — some strange new want that scratches in me. I want this fruit and I want more than this fruit — I want — I want — Og {throwing down one of the bones he has gnawed) Wants.'* Wants? New wants.'' I tell you, we want no new wants. Our wants are all met. We have but two. We want meat — we hunt it. We want sleep — we take it. [.8] What other wants could there be in all the world ? Another want would be evil. Our world is good without wants. If that fruit has made you want, then it is an evil fruit. TuLL {stepping forward) I told him that. It must be a poison fruit. Like that shiny yellow fruit our men once ate that sickened them and killed many till they learned to shun it. First Tribesman {from the fire) And like that herb some of us tasted in the big rains. We lost our good safe sense and some of us walked off a high rock and lay all broken at its foot. It was an evil herb. TuLL And this must be an evil fruit. How could a good fruit grow in one day. The good fruits that are sent by the Above-persons, we know them — they are slow to grow, and the birds eat them with us. This fruit the birds have shunned. Jad Still, it burns now in my hand, its juice runs alive to my touch. I tell you it makes me want strange new wants and most of all it makes me want to taste, to eat itself. I want — Og Our old wants are enough. We want meat; we want sleep. First Tribesman Yes, it must be like that herb we tasted that made some of us walk and fall from the high rock. It has put a fever on Jad. [19] Og It's an evil fruit if it makes him want more than meat and sleep, {to Jad) Throw it away, {as J ad hesitates) Throw it away — throw it from you. Jad But it holds me. My hand cannot throw it. My throat tightens for it. \^Raises fruit to his mouth. Og {horrified) Throw it! TULL Throw it! \^He seizes J ad's arm and tries to take the fruit from him. There is a slight struggle. Tull gets the fruit and hurls it into the forest. The tribesmen have risen from the ground to watch. Jad stands as if dazed, regarding his empty hand. Tull {to Og) Master, I saved him from tasting that evil fruit, but when our hands clenched we crushed it. The juice ran between our fingers. It was hot and living, as he said. See, it stains my hand, it burns — it burns. Og {turning to the fire for more meat) We'll have no fruit that makes new wants. We want meat, we want sleep. We have them. How if some fruit gave us a want we could not satisfy ? That would be evil. Tull He would have eaten of the fruit, and I saved him from [20] it. But the fruit was crushed and the juice burns on my hand. [//tf ^?t^^ tn^ut — 1 mrrx;^= -T, If^T. \f^= tS^'iJ.ok ^t=^fW^f^*fe=4k^ H Tir'^ ' The Preamble's general character, as well as the charac- ter of the other numbers, is rustic and the themes are de- cisively rhythmic. They are easily recognized, even when the polyphonic elaboration appears somewhat complicated. I have chosen the fugue form for the episode because its structure is proper to express the continuing, the for- warding and complicating of the same events and ideas to which the author of "Life" refers with so much insistence in his text. The Dance of the Seedsmen is founded on the following ideas: Oi!.'t^''f 2.; , ff* [55] tfr^^ r— r-l ^ ' T-ft# T&tu..i>j s~'l'ir4't^^ '■'^rrV^^ ^ ^ — -= 1 mvi ^Ti;T A \ ) . i ' . ^ ; ^ Tx, T --i.- v: ■ ' : '^^=^^^ -t^ — )^ ' '- 'i ' ■^"^ — ^ — ' — ^ i^ -S-^i-f ^ -f ■ 1 i* ^"cf^-taS ^l' ^^ ' M-t '■ .. rf 1 3''* ^ — [i^ t ^ . ^1 1. The chromatic and syncopated 12/8 movement ex- presses the tremor of life within the seed, and its repeti- tions between the Want and Love themes emphasize the insistence of Hfe upon manifesting itself in growth. 2. Interwoven with the preceding is the theme of the Want, "all wants, all begettings," which is executed by the bells and other percussion instruments. 3. The Love theme, which apparently seems to assume greater importance, is combined with the preceding theme of the dance. The form is free and could be described as a modern Rondo. The Dance of the Flowers is a slow waltz movement, executed by the strings in the first part: .\)(feWiiT!Wtf In the second period of the waltz is to be noticed the persistence of the theme of Want, which at the beginning is executed on attuned cowbells which successively round up amongst all the instruments, thus augmenting the or- chestral interest and coloring. ^^ ^ ^ ^^ ^ ^^ ^ [.5^] The following part (In A-flat) is built upon some Indian moods of Ecuador, which give an exotic air to the har- mony. It will be easy for the auditor to recall the love theme transformed and combined with other rhythmical elements of the second fragment of the fugue theme in the Preamble. T^ The waltz, toward the end, softly vanishes in vague dreams. The Dance of the Fruits, a short preparation on a pedal played by the basses, leads to the exposition of the theme executed by a full orchestra. ^^^^irt'i i ^^ '. This period closes with the reproduction of the love [57] theme which undergoes an immediate and new transfor- mation of its original rhythm. iii A new fragment guides to a repetition of the principal theme, which closes the first part of the dance. The second part (as a trio) opens with some Ecuadorian Indian moods which lead to the principal theme which is none other than the first member of the fugue in the Pre- amble. This, combined with the second part of the same theme, already played in the Dance of the Flowers, is devel- oped and repeated in successive polyphonic combinations leading to repetition of all the first part, which comes to a close with a vigorous coda. The choral section of the work must be considered from two different standpoints: I. The Sleep of Og and the Chant of Annunciation can stand by themselves because of their organic form, while the choral fragments, almost mystic in their nature, are to be considered almost as phonetic spots, forming part of the atmosphere in which dominates the word and thought of the Sower, "the constant, the timeless." [58] 1. The finale belongs to the same category, notwith- standing the fact that in its rapid development it embraces many of the preceding themes. This comment crowns the triumph of the eternal law, love. The Sleep of Og is a primitive man's slumber-song, the text of which is enough to depict its true significance. The orchestral commentary of this chorus is an elabora- tion of the themes already heard. One of the principal means of expression lies in the fol- lowing phrase: ■U^^-^ 1 >-T^I ^¥^ T^ ]\ jj .-l-"!--! iT^i -rr — 1 u ^ -H — 'tt i T*-^ — ■^rt — -V-J — ¥= i. -f — ^■> % ^ -4^^-^ — -1 — ""- — ''^'^ which from the choruses pass rapidly to the orchestra. The Chant of Annunciation opens with these chords: -gwr'. 1 ^^4^ ^ M^ 1 If ^ If^f ^.4l 1 «ii» t itt ^-^ i? H if if! f If H'r ^ S^ rr^ — ^ *- ^**7— ^ L- ^ i*- which are played by the harp, sustained by an organ point of the basses. The chorus executes a chant as a psalm. Each time the phrase is sung it is interrupted by the tenor solo, which repeats it with a slight alteration. In this piece, the orchestral work is very much developed and the Want motive appears with great insistence and variation, mingling with the Love motive and the others. The Ecuadorian Indian moods stand out prominently in these two numbers. [59] The work is scored for two flutes, and piccolo, two oboes and English horn, two clarinets, two bassoons and double bassoon, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba, harp, celesta, glockenspiel, tympani, percussion and strings. A set of cowbells, embracing the chromatic range of an octave and a half, has been introduced, I believe, for the first time as a symphonic instrument. DoMENico Brescia. [60] THE CREMATION OF CARE By Charles Caldwell Dobie Music by Edwin H. Lemare Under the direction of W. H. Smith, Jr. THE VOICE OF CARE Dion Holm THE HIGH PRIEST H. B. Johnson, Jr. SLEEP Frank P. Deering LAUGHTER Ernest H. McCandlish SONG Harold K. Baxter BACCHUS R. M. Hotaling ORACULAR VOICES Antoine de Vally Austin W. Sperry Charles Bulotti E. Leslie Taylor Easton Kent M. G. Jeffress E. J. Cardinall H. L. Perry Time: The Mythological Age Place: A clearing in the forest THE FRIDAY NIGHT ENTERTAINMENT JUNE THE TWENTY-SEVENTH Under the Direction of W. H. Smith, Jr.