Stubborn Puritan Tradition Fetters Dramatics

Theatrical productions, if one accepts the opinion of Harvard's Corporation in 1762, are injurious and corrupting to the student. The mere act of attending a play, said a Corporation Report of November 19 of that year, not only "takes students' minds off from their studies," but also may lead to improper personal associations, which often "prove embarrassing to themselves, cause financial difficulties for their parents, and tend upon other disorders." The Corporation thereupon voted to make illegal participation in, or attendance at, any sort of theatrical entertainment by students in Harvard College. This rule represents the basic philosophy that has been the power behind the dramatic scene in the University to the present day.

In the face of this unofficial, unspoken attitude towards the theatre, undergraduates have been hampered, inconvenienced, discouraged, and occasionally clamped down upon, but never since drama became an important part of American culture in the 1880s have they failed to entangle themselves in theatrical activities of one sort or another. Before this period Harvard had some 250 years in which to lave in the Puritan tradition. In the seventeenth century, there had been no question of the impropriety of plays--their immorality was never doubted. Like singing, dramatics were not then against the College laws, but as Samuel Eliot Morison has pointed out in his history of Harvard University, "this negative evidence is double-edged, for it may only mean that there was not enough at Harvard to worry the authorities."

By the turn of the 18th century, according to Morison, there is evidence of students "actually having performed a stage play," but it was not until the 1760s that the situation began to get out of control, thereby necessitating the Corporation's severe pronouncement of 1762. Productions such as Addison's "Cato" took place in 1758, but care was taken that the drama did not exceed the limits of propriety. In 1765, a cryptic diary notation reads "Scholars punished at College for acting over the great and last day in a very shocking manner, personating the Devil, etc."

No Plays Allowed

Few dangerous symptoms of dramatic activity broke out during the first half of the nineteenth century. A certain Holworthy was famed among members of the Class of 1848 as an actor for his displays in Hasty Pudding mock trials, but Holworthy himself had never considered his achievements theatrical. "I don't remember any plays," he said. "In that time I do not think plays of any kind would have been permitted."

Starting in 1855, when the Hasty Pudding Club presented its first public performance, dramatics began to bore from within the College. Although the Pudding had its troubles with University Hall, the administration stepped aside without intense prodding, graciously acknowledging the coming of new times. And by 1881, the College itself was taking a fling with the dramatic arts.

"Oedipus" Opens an Era

Between 1881 and 1925, theatrical work at Harvard developed to the point where the University was considered to be the leading center for education in the drama. This did not occur because of any generous hand or kindly countenance within University Hall. It resulted from great undergraduate interest combined with a particularly distinguished group of men on the Faculty. The Administration sat quietly by, watching carefully all the while. It tacitly approved the productions offered by the French, German, English, and Classics Departments, as these had an aura of educational value. The debut, in 1881, of this phase of dramatics was the performance of "Oedipus Tyrannus" in Sanders. Its being by an ancient made it passable. Its being given in Greek made it somewhat laudable. And its being the first known performance in America of a classical play in the original language combined novelty with austerity, making it indubitably safe to perform.

At one point, the Administration unwound and cancelled the customary rent for Sanders, a courtesy which it does not extend to current dramatic groups, so taken was it with the idea of sponsoring an American premiere of a classical play. It was the "Phormio" of Terence, in 1894, and all of literary Boston, as well as whatever scholars happened to be in other parts of the country, were invited to attend. Even President Cleveland (of the United States) was sent an invitation, and although he declined with regrets, the whole production came off with celat, socially as well as educationally.

The Rise of Baker

During this period, American premieres of many French and German plays took place at Harvard, and the Stadium was frequently utilized when a particularly grandiose production, such as "Agamemnon," was projected. At the same time dramatic activities were springing into existence that were not viewed so placidly by the University. In particular, one George Pierce Baker, a professor of English, was showing remarkable talent for teaching the theatre--playwrighting, set-designing, direction, and so forth. His English 47, later known as the '47 Workshop, produced plays by students, among whom can be listed Eugene O'Neill, Philip Barry, S. N. Behrman, Robert Edmund Jones, and Theresa Helburn. In 1908, the Harvard Dramatic Club was formed.

All of this led the Alumni Bulletin to cite Harvard, in 1912, as a "good example of the direct service a University can do to the country by intelligent foresight and readiness to open up new fields of study." The Alumni Bulletin was speaking somewhat before the fact. In 1925, Baker, after having spent more than ten years in an attempt to persuade the University to permit him to solicit funds for a decent theatre, slipped quietly away to Yale, in what Morison calls the greatest victory of Yale over Harvard in the twentieth century. Two years later the word was revealed that one of the Harkness millions had been offered Harvard for the construction of decent theatrical facilities for Baker, and was turned down, later to be accepted by Yale. In the meantime, President Lowell (of Harvard) had explained. "A theatre and a permanent school for playwrights would not be wise."

SAC or Tradition

Today, Dean Hudnut declares that "Harvard needs a theatre more than it needs a Business School." The Dramatic Club and the Theatre Workship continue to use Sanders, (for which they must pay rent, lighting, janitors fees, etc.) a theatre which is, according to experts, more ill-equipped than that of any other major eastern University.

For 40 years, despite two wars and in the face of obstacle after obstacle, HDC has managed to offer two productions annually. Now, with HTW standing as a strong rival organization to HDC, the University is threatened with a renaissance of undergraduate dramatic activity after the low plumbed in the late thirties. The University has evidence of strong undergraduate support for a War Memorial Student Activities Center, which according to plans would include an auditorium theatre. If SAC should be vetoed as a War Memorial, future historians would be able to trace an attitude that was born in Puritan times, and that was still alive and screaming in 1925, through at least 22 more years.