Abstract
SCENOGRAPHY, thanks to its very nature, is capable of the freest range of fancy. Its canvas and cardboard, its curtains and frippery do not, it is true, have the impalpable and aërial character of words and of music, yet they are so little burdened with material weight that they follow with ready wing the flights of fantasy and the vagaries of dreams. Scenery can evoke the vision of magic isles, such as Homer's Ogygia and Ariosto's Alcina; it can create for the most imaginative poets enchanted castles and realms beyond the grave, Elysian fields and the depths of the sea, Armida's garden and the lake of Fata Morgana, the fountain of the fairies and the Palace of Great Desire.