102 - Edward Gordon CRAIG (1872–1966)

Edward Gordon CRAIG (1872–1966) Set of 3 L.A.S. and 8 C.A.S. in English and German, written between 1909 and 1910 to Jurgis Kasimirovitch Baltruchaïtis (1873–1944), one postcard is addressed to Maria Ivanovna Olovyanichnikova (c.1879–1948): -Letter dated December 12, 1910: “My dear friend. Thank you for the ‘ausschnitt’ über das 5,000 Theater.’ How ironic of you. It’s unfair to laugh at me so seriously and to tell me to ‘machen’ my theater ‘schnell.’ However, thank heaven I understand irony when it’s directed at me. I shall build my theater slowly, and I am sure you will applaud. I shall try to send it to your son to play with, or my boy will bring it… in his hands. Meanwhile, I shall probably continue for a few more years to linger about the doorways and passageways of the old theater in which I was born and which I love terribly. I love the folly so much I love the false “art” so much I love the actors so much and their makeup and intrigue their conceit and pride and I can’t get away—just yet Soon I will, and then I shall be dead. Yours, Gordon Craig Greetings to all, & to the mountains" —Letter dated December 15, 1910 “No. I’m not ‘offended’ at all. Not at all… and she always has to read it to me half forwards, half backwards. What did I write? I had thought that what she had written was something very ironically good. I love irony, for it is not weak—not soft. And how is it possible to speak of Reinhardt and of all people together without being ironic? Besides, perhaps, I don’t know what irony really is. But I always think I detect in your words a delicate & keen irony that gives them a double meaning. I myself do not have such a delicate use of irony. I laugh at myself too openly to please myself.” —Letter of December 28, 1910 “Dear Friend. I wrote to Yeats today, and I think he will be sure to write to you. I think he’ll be very happy to have his play translated into Russian*. I’m very sorry to hear that Stanislavsky isn’t coming to see Italy. One cannot understand Egypt without first passing through Italy. I may see him, for I too am going to Paris—perhaps in early January—and will let you know. How happy I would be if I could stop for a few hours in Vevey. I’ll look for trains that would make that possible. I’m sending you all the “masks” that you haven’t received yet. Bear in mind that when I write, I write so that English people may be made to listen—either by being hurt or moved, or by sensing the writer’s indifference. I very much want to help my own country wake up to its own theater. My theater is not for anyone, except those who accept it without realizing it—that is, by accepting me. This personal aspect of it all exists in spite of everything we say and think beneath and behind it all, and must never be forgotten. * When we set sail for Egypt and all its impersonality in art.” MC Provenance -Jurgis Kasimirovitch Baltruchaïtis (1873–1944), Lithuanian diplomat and poet. -Their son, Jurgis Jurgissovitch Baltruchaïtis (1903–1988), historian. -His wife, Hélène Baltruchaïtis (1908–2004), née Castel-Focillon, daughter of Henri Focillon (1881–1943). -Then by descent.