DETAILS

The Liar presented by the U of C Dept of Drama
University Theatre
Tuesday, October 26 - Saturday, November 6

More in: Theatre

Oscar Wilde once said: “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.” That quotation is plastered on top of the blue plastic bin containing the nine masks for the University of Calgary’s current production, Carlo Goldoni’s The Liar.

“People think they can hide behind a mask, but it’s really like a magnifying glass. If you have any one thought, people will see it,” says Gina Bastone, who made the masks for the production.

Written in 1750, The Liar incorporates elements of traditional commedia dell’arte, including the masks. Commedia dell’arte is a style of theatre that began in Italy in the 16th century. It used stock characters drawn from one of four categories: old men, lovers, servants and captains. Actors wore masks associated with each of the characters to help the audience navigate the stories, which were entirely improvised. Actors would make a profession out of portraying one character for their entire lives, often passing on the mantle of that character to their children.

Director Mike Griffin says Goldoni’s play is actually a sort of hybrid between commedia dell’arte and more modern theatrical styles.

“Goldoni was exploring a new form of Italian comedy, by trying to reform traditional commedia for a new type of audience by getting rid of masks and stock characters. Part of that involved writing actual scripts,” he says.

Goldoni took some of commedia’s stock characters and changed them up a bit, according to Griffin. For example, in The Liar, rather than being a lusty miser, the character Pantalone is a caring father.

Griffin says commedia dell’arte shows often revolve around the lovers overcoming obstacles so they can be together. In The Liar, Lelio returns to his Venetian home and starts spinning a web of lies while wooing two young women, both of whom have other suitors. When he’s in danger of being found out, his lies multiply and, eventually, they get him into plenty of trouble.

“The masks are important because it shows you, automatically, which character is which,” explains Griffin, who travelled to Italy this past summer to study with some commedia dell’arte masters.

“The bigger the nose, the dumber the character. The closer set the eyes, the crazier the character,” Bastone generalizes, adding that she doesn’t go into an extensive character study when embarking upon a new mask.

“I like to have two words and go for it,” she says.

Bastone’s masks for The Liar, laying on a shop table at the U of C, all possess bold and comical features. Il Dottore’s (the Doctor’s) mask is without wooden cheeks, and has very large openings for an actor’s eyes, as well as a bulbous nose. The mask of the nimble servant Arlecchino has a smaller nose with full cheeks, while Pantalone’s mask bears a very long nose.

To the uninformed observer, they actually look as though they’re carved from wood, each having a shiny, brown, wood-like finish. In fact, the masks are a type of plastic called neoprene. Traditionally, commedia masks were made of leather and Bastone says she paints her masks brown because the colour absorbs theatre light.

Bastone starts by carving a face out of hard clay.

“I never know what my fingers will produce. It usually turns out to reflect the essence of someone in my life,” she says.

Neighbourhood kids inspired her to start making masks more than 30 years ago.

“Local children used to come by my window and watch while I made puppets. Then I started carving their faces into masks and performing in them,” she says.

After she completes the clay carving, Bastone makes a plaster mould. She then pours neoprene, or whatever other material she may use, into the mould. Once it hardens, she cuts out the eyes, nostrils and edge of the mask. The entire process takes 15 to 25 hours per mask.

Griffin says in contrast to all the masked characters, the lovers in commedia dell’arte are usually unmasked.

“It was at a time when women were finally allowed onstage, and so they didn’t wear masks so they could show their beauty,” he says.

Each evening there will be a pre-show carnival with a puppet show, a quack doctor and actors wearing traditional Venetian Carnival masks.

Griffin says people can still witness the impact of commedia dell’arte today in physical theatre, slapstick comedy and even sitcoms. The Liar gives audiences a peek at the original that spawned these comedic offshoots.