I'm sitting here, writing an introduction to a study of women claiming their voice and their place in salons and on stage in a historic setting and the sort of crap they got for being trailblazers. It seems oddly apropos on a day when we (unexpectedly) can envision a woman claiming her voice and her place in the White House and making new history.[1] And we all know the crap she's going to get for taking that trail. But frankly I'm tired of doom-sayers and Debbie Downers. It's even harder to win if you don't act like it's possible. We aren't just working for the political career of one specific woman; we continue to work for the future of the USA as a democratic institution that truly believes in liberty and justice for all. And that is far more important than the specific name in the office. We all need to take the stage, shape the intellectual conversation, and wade through the crap we'll get for doing so. Because there is no other way to get where we want to be. And me? I'm dusting off that "Kamala" t-shirt I bought four years ago.
[1] In case you're reading this instead of the US national news, Biden handed off the campaign to Harris earlier today.
Grist, Elizabeth Rosalind. 2001. The Salon and the Stage: Women and Theatre in Seventeenth-century France. Dissertation.
Reviewed as part of the research for the stage/actresses trope series on the podcast. No specifically sapphic content.
This dissertation didn’t have quite as much information about actresses as I thought it might. The majority of the focus is on playwrights—which is wonderful and informative! But I ended up skimming a lot to pull out the bits on actresses.
This analysis considers the parallels in the emergence of women as central the public stage and the private salon, both of which opened up new roles, and both of which became a focus of morality-based criticism, taking the view that women “putting themselves forward” was inherently dangerous to feminine morals.
With respect to the theater, this criticism targeted not only the actresses themselves, but the roles they played, as well as the enthusiastic presence of women in the audience (rather than keeping to the domestic sphere).
The leadership of women in salon culture, and the encouragement it gave them to engage in literary endeavors, broadened women’s opportunities for education and increased the centrality of women as subjects within those literary ventures. The salon was also central to women’s patronage of the theater, with many plays being initially presented within the salon, or even acted out privately by amateur companies that might include the aristocratic women who hosted them. Women acted as patrons for female playwrights, as seen in dedications.
French theater is its modern sense was established in Paris in the early 17th century, with earlier precursors being guilds that produced religious mystery plays. Two permanent professional companies were established in 1629 and 1635, with the building of the first dedicated theater building in 1641. The theaters were supported (and regulated) by the crown and records show regular attendance by royal figures. Marie de Medici was an enthusiastic supporter of both French companies and visiting Italian troupes.
Early in the century, records refer to popular farces, but with the establishment of the professional companies we see more prestigious works, often dedicated to powerful female patrons. Those upper class women were not the only female audience, as visual records show women among the middle-class audience in the cheaper seats. Female audiences, in turn, influenced the nature of the material being featured, with an increasing focus on tragedy and more serious drama across the first half of the century.
Moral criticism of theater-going included its function as a place of social and economic display.
There are no surviving records of actresses in Paris before the early 17th century, in contrast to the records of stage actresses in Italy and Spain in the late 16th century (and also in contrast to England where all-male companies were the rule until the 1660s). It is likely that women were acting on provincial stages earlier, though the profession may have been looked askance. A reference in 1592 to an actress in Bordeaux notes that she was received in respectable houses, implying that this might have been surprising. There are suggestions that the Parisian mystery plays of the latter 16th century used all-male companies, and that this was typical for bawdy farces as well. But the presence of celebrity actresses in visiting Italian troupes may have helped shift the tide. England lagged behind, and when French mixed-gender companies visited England in the 1630s, English commenters were harshly critical, considering actresses “unwomanly.”
The first named French actress we know of was Marie Venier, who like most of the early actresses had a husband in the same profession. Women entering the French theatrical companies were treated as equals to their male co-workers and could expect to receive a general education as apprentices, as well as theatrical training. The apprenticeship included room and board. By mid-century, companies had roughly equivalent numbers of men and women on stage, and a number of female performers were achieving star status. Later in their careers, well-known actresses might supplement their income by providing elocution lessons to women of the upper classes.
Despite all this, actresses were the target of moral criticism, with complex and ambiguous rationales. Because of the roles they played on stage, they were seen as potential seductresses. When the characters they played strayed from idealized women, they were considered to be setting a bad example for their female audiences. Their revealing stages costumes were accused of inciting more general fashions.
[Note: This work doesn’t have any mention of lesbian accusations against French actresses, in contrast to the discourse in the 18th century. There is a note that one particular play—Le Railleur by Antoine Mareschal—was suppressed in 1635 likely due to lesbian allusions directed at Madame d’Aiguillon, a niece of Cardinal Richelieu. (She was a target of various rumors due to her refusal to remarry after being widowed at age 18, but it isn’t clear that there was any substance to the lesbian accusations.)]