Early Pantomime

The history of pantomime

In this section we'll explore early versions of pantomime, including Commedia d'ell Arte, as well as taking a look at Joseph Grimaldi, an undisputed star of early pantomime best known for his character of Clown.

Commedia dell’Arte

The story of pantomime starts with Commedia dell’Arte, a highly-improvised form of popular performance with comic skits and tricks that originated in 16th century Italy. It was primarily performed outdoors in marketplaces by professional troupes of both men and women, whose characters were well known stereotypes recognisable from their regional dialects, costumes and (in many cases) masks. One such character – Dottore – is the stereotypical academic, with pretensions of classical learning but little common sense; he hails from Bologna (home to Europe’s very first university) and is bedecked in scholarly robes and a large black hat. Another – Pantalone – is an obstructive paterfamilias of the sort found among wealthy Venetian merchants, self-important and yet ultimately impotent; he wears red tights and a ridiculously-proportioned codpiece. Joining these doge-like characters are Il Capitano or La Signora (the literal mercenary or mercenary wench), a pair of lovers (upper-class, sophisticated and yet sentimentally love-sick), and an assortment of servants or ‘Zanni’ (uneducated perhaps, but cunning, coy and impertinent). Whether by their hubris or their folly, all of these characters of course present a rich canvas for satirical and slapstick comedy.

Laughter is likewise the crux of pantomime today, but Commedia dell’Arte’s stock characters don’t tread 21st century boards in the festive pantos we know; the stars of today are beloved children’s TV presenters and professionals from Strictly Come Dancing. The subject-matter is not domestic but magical, and far from being a street performance we flock to theatres to enjoy (from the comfort of the roofed auditorium) the dramatisation of fairy tales that feature cleverly composed rhyming scripts, blockbuster pop songs (ghostbusters for Canterbury), elaborate set design, and illusions facilitated by stage mechanics. The only improvisation in modern pantomime arises from moments of planned audience participation, usually targeting a hapless father (or preferably, male teacher) for humiliation and innuendo. Yet the birth of pantomime overlaps with the historic appropriations of Commedia dell’Arte in the 17th century, and Commedia dell’Arte, in turn, could not have survived or been revived without pantomime being born in the 18th.

Anyone familiar with Upstart Crow will know how the character Will Kemp (the preeminent clown of Shakespeare’s theatre company) takes every opportunity to boast of his Commedia dell’Arte “award” (the real Will Kemp did perform with a Commedia troupe whilst travelling in Italy in 1601) . One need only consider The merchant of Venice [1605] to draw parallels between Shylock and Pantalone or The taming of the shrew [1594] to see a similar likeness between Petruchio and Il Capitano. Later Restoration playwrights like Edward Ravenscroft and Aphra Behn used Commedia dell’Arte’s characters not evocatively but outright, employing their devolved Francophone names and bringing one, in particular, to the fore: the diamond-patterned Harlequin (Arlequin en Française), who is rather more polished than his forebear Arlecchino, the rustic Zanni dressed in patches. Originally a clown-like character of the servant class, Harlequin’s historical development is that of the social-climber; suddenly he was supplanting such canonical characters as Dr Faustus (his patterned leotard visible beneath swathes of academic regalia). In the 18th century, the majority of scripted performances would place him opposite Columbine in the role of the male lover. Before this transformation could take full effect, however, he would first lose his voice.

Exhibition images

A selection of items from the exhibition - find more in the Templeman Library Gallery space, installed until March 2025.

Joseph Grimaldi

Born into an acting dynasty in 1788, Joseph Grimaldi’s legacy would far surpass his lineage. His father, Giuseppe, was a dancing master and successful Pantaloon in 18th century pantomime; Joseph – with his red-on-white face paint, litany of comic songs, physical aptitude to tumble, duel and construct satirical costumes from an assortment of curious props – would be forever immortalised as the father of clowns. To this day, professional clowns (otherwise known as ‘Joeys’) flock to Hackney every February for a Grimaldi memorial service, and a statue of Grimaldi can be seen a stone’s throw from Sadler’s Wells Theatre in Joseph Grimaldi park.

Grimaldi launched his clown in a pantomime called Peter Wilkins; or, Harlequin in the flying world, which was performed at Sadler’s Wells in 1800. His character was called ‘Guzzle the drinking clown’ and was paired in a comic double act with another clown, ‘Gobble the eating clown’. There’s something Falstaffian about these characters’ names; and much of the Regency clown’s humour would derive from skulduggery and vulgarity. As such, one could argue that this clown had more in common with Commedia dell’Arte’s Arlecchino than the Harlequin he devolved into. Grimaldi also developed a knack for satirising fashionable society and revealing the baseness that unites humanity despite our preening pretensions to civility.

 Some of the sketches and songs he devised in certain pantomimes became so famous that they were frequently offered as bonus content in an evening of theatrical entertainment. It is important to note that plays were not performed in isolation at this time; audiences expected to see a serious headlining drama followed by a burlesque or pantomime and often additional interludes such as addresses by famous actors or musical song and dance numbers. Another difference between theatre today and in the past relates to audience behaviour. Whilst we are accustomed to turning our phones off in the theatre, and breaking silence only to surreptitiously quaff a Malteser or chorus, when prompted, ‘He’s behind you’, a Regency-era audience had a remarkably more informal etiquette – they would come and go, eat, drink and heckle when they pleased.

Besides his clown persona, Grimaldi was also known for his drag roles such as Queen Rondabellyana in Harlequin and the Red Dwarf [1812], Dame Cecily Suet in Harlequin Whittington, Lord Mayor of London [1814] and Baroness Pomposini in Harlequin and Cinderella; or, The Little Glass Slipper [1820]. This is interesting because the clownish character in pantomime today is supplied by the pantomime dame whilst the clown proper has been relegated to the circus, children’s parties and horror films. However, Grimaldi was also known for performing roles  inflected with contemporary racism such as the ‘noble savage’ and ‘wild man’ stereotypes and sometimes using blackface. He impersonated Chinese, Persian, Caribbean and native American characters that were created to make racial otherness the butt of the joke, and was variously billed as ‘Munchikow, a very gifted Eater, Drinker, & afterwards Clown ‘, ‘Cayfacattadhri, the Persian Cook’, ‘Friday a Young Carib’, and ‘Ravin, the Rival Indian’.

Grimaldi enjoyed at least two decades as the undisputed star of the London stage – in some of the pantomimes written at this time, the romantic plot was entirely superseded by the harlequinade so that audiences could experience his entire portfolio of innovative jokes and transformations. Harlequin and the Red Dwarf contained no less than 16 such scenarios that interrupted the romantic plot (based on a tale from the Arabian Nights) and delaying the happily ever after. The most famous of these involved parodies of the Epping hunt and  the famous military Hussars. In the latter, Grimaldi would witness a passing Hussar wearing the traditional regalia and be seized with sartorial envy; consequently, he would ludicrously re-construct the Hussar’s costume by adopting coal scuttles for boots, candlesticks for spurs, a bearskin coat and a ladies’ muff and black tippet for hat and moustaches.

Naturally, the physical nature of such stunts began to take its toll on Grimaldi’s health and in later years his son, J.S. Grimaldi, would have to understudy and step in for him. Grimaldi’s death in 1837 left a vacuum in British theatre and the harlequinades he dominated would eventually be excised from pantomime in the 19th century.

‘Grimaldi as clown’ engraving. David Drummond Pantomime Collection