THE THEATRE.

Dominion, Volume 1, Issue 21, 19 October 1907, Page 10

THE THEATRE.

"The Play's the Thing.''—Shakespeare. (Br " Sylvius.") y The Wellington Opera House. d Comfort is not studied to any marked oxif tent by the "Wellington Upera House Comis pany. While tlie Manners Strc-t playhouse , r ' lends itself to those little consideration's that J( add to tho zest of playgoing, making it some- ! thing more in the nature'of a social amenity, : one has to be content with the plav. Of o course 1 know that the play's THE thing,! but h it >is not everything, and so much could be 0 done' with so little effort if the directors e would only get possessed ot a few rational ideas. In Australian theatres the foyer, or lounge,'..is riot unlike a comfortable sittingroom, tho floor is carpeted; there are decently » upholstered lounges and chairs in profusion'; ~ there are a few decent pictures 1 on the walls, 1 and as much as possible is done to make the r place as warm (or as cool), as the outside temj perature demands. In Sydney and Melbourne just as many ladies and gentlemen leave the • auditorium during the intervals to have a l chat (and perhaps a cup of' coffee) in the d ;lounge, while shaking off the slight stiffness that results from sitting in one position for ' r any length of time. A lady does occasionally '' leave the dress circle of the Opera House for f a stroll in the foyer with her escort ,but she 1 is usually a stranger, and is'regarded almost . as freakish for not glueing herself to her scat for the 1 whole night. If it is a cold night, she \ soon returns to her place, for the cold lino- > leumod floor and the few stiff rattan seats, in 3 combination with the draught ..that is allowed 1 to rush up the staircase unchecked is too se- > vero on evening-dressed people. During the . performance it is customary to keep the doors ( close shut, and if the house is well-filled the '. air soonb ecomes genially warm, if not insuf- ■ ferabjy so, but on cold nights, after the tem- • perature has been raised in this manner, the > prevailing custom is to throw the doors wide , open for. the entire duration of the interval (for no particular reason), admitting a piercing | blast that freezes the suffering audience ! 'again, and which is positively harmful for ' .those siting in a line with the doors. It is not ■ at all necessary to keep the doors wide open i after tho first want-to-sec-a-man rush—if it . is then. The heavy curtains should be drawn at the end of the entrance corridor to give the lightly-clad within some measure of pro- ■ tection. Another iriatter which' I' am sur- ■ prised the authorities have not interfered with long ago is the arrangement of the doors at the entrance to tho stalls and family circle. If the attraction is a good ono, there is always an eager crowd that backs up against the doors long before they are opened. The Superintendent of the Fire Brigado or tho City Council decrees that tho doors shall open outwards, so that when the time comes to admit those waiting, tho'doors have to be crushed open against the crowd, which is pressing forward with almost frantic eagerness to get the best seats. The result of the meeting of these two forces is almost painful to seo, and thero will bo an accident one of these evenings that will force reform in this direction. The easiest solution of tho difficulty is to institute the "queue" system, but the colonial does not take kindly to tho English idea, so I would suggest that another pair of doors, opening inwards, or an effective barrier, bo erected in tho entrance, against which the people could assomhlo that much' nearer tho street to enable the main doors to be opened decorously and without-the present risk of accident. Amazing Dancers. The latest Tivoli attraction in Sydney is a quartet—two ladies and two gentlemen—of intertwined dancers called the Molassos. Says the "Referee", of them:—"Tho merest suggestion of such dancing as'was indulged in by tho Molassus at tho Tivoli on Saturday would suffice to cause a sensation in any ballroom. The two pretty and gorgeously attired ladies —slim, sinuous and graceful— paired with two agile and well-groomed male partners, clad in conventional evening dress, went through a maze of intricate movements and remarkablo posturings that created quito a furoro. The former, in yollowi dresses, glittering with sequins, wore fascinating figures. They pirouetted and revolved at remarkable -speed, and, clutched in the deft'embraces of ,tho mcn, : were swung through the air, whirled round on one foot with but tho grip of a hand to restrain their flying forms, arid amazed tho audience by such feats as almost suggested a control over tho forces of gravity. Tho turn, which in some respects recalled that of the Dartos, who appeared hero some years ago, though much moro elaborate, was enthusiastically applauded. It was certainly the finest exhibition of 'freak' dancing ever seen hero." • Letter from Miss Maggie Moore. Writing to tho Sydney "Referee" Miss Maggie Moore says:—"Mr. Harry Roberts has a splendid engagement, playing the lead in Clydo Fitch's play, written for Eleanor Robson, 'The Girl who has Everything.'/ i 1 had a letter from him yesterday, and lie has made a hit. When we are ready to go to Australia, he has somo good plays with parts to fit him, and—well, though 1 may say it who shouldn't —he is, to my mind, one of the best actors in America. He loves Australia just as much as. J'do., We are both looking forward to our return. ' Do you remember my niece who played with me at different times in Australia, Osgood Moore?' Well, she was married onAugust 15 .to Mr. Porcy Jordan, and she has retired from tho stage. Her husband is a brilliant writer, a jolly fine follow, an Englishman, and .1 am sure they will bo a very happy pair. For the present she makes her homo in New York. I shall miss her, because she has been with me since she was a 'woo little bairn.' I did hear Mrs. Bland Holt was in New York." Lack of Great Plays. When Ambassador Bryce, in a casual interview, marvelled at the failure of the dramatist of the prosont day to meet tho public demand for great plays, he was touching upon an idle question in an idlo moment. Some discussion has been evoked, and ono incident calculated to add to the. ennui of nations is an interview, a column in length, with Bernard Shaw, in which ho assures us that tho world is " panting l for piffle," that ho and lbson arc great playwrights, and that "Mrs. Warren's , Profession" is his one greatest play..-Mr. Bryce (says a New York paper) was really referring to works of a purely literary character. Ho seemed ,to have in mind the highest form in verse moro particularly, and those qualities that make the work of tho commanding poet classic. It is an idle discussion. Confining ourselves to a consideration of the present and the futuro of "great" plays, it may bo, with every assurance, assumed that tho ono test of greatness will never again be blank verso. That form is for far-away foreign things of the moment, and ho who finds greatness will find it nearer homo, closer to tho hearts of the people, and removed from ornamentation and fancy. .No. form.of literature, dramatic or otherwiso, may become obsolete and not suscoptiblc of revival, and, as there aro many forms of literature, it is purely arbitrary to select the verse form as the highest. Moreover, in the crowded work of these times it is difficult to form any estimate of the residuum of productions that may become classic. It is easy tosay that the great mass of'tho literature of to-day is mediocre, but it is altogether possible that an amount of it may : become classic, which will bear a fair proportion to that in some other century of no inconsiderable distinction. Apart from the Elizabethan period (and of that period only a few plays by; a few roally groat men arc in. active use), there are but few plays that are not forgotten, except in the literary records, and which can be called classic only in the sense of curiosity. Shaw on Ellen Terry. George Bernard Shaw in individual manner said of her individuality: "She is tho most modern of modern women. Although she played so often with Henry Irving, she was utterly unlike him. If Shakespeare had met Irving on the street ho would have recognised him immediately as a distinguished type of the. family of artists. If he had met Ellen Terr} - he would have stared at her as at a now and irresistibly charming type of woman. Sargent's picture of her as' Lady Macbeth will stand out among all the pictures of distinguished women as one who bears no resemblance to anyone else." i

A Theatre of Horrors. The Paris Grand Guignol, one'of Montmartro's little more or less select tlieatrcs, writes a Paris correspondent of the "Herald," makes a specialty of sensational plays, which are frequently of a horror type. Some time ago this theatre produced a play, the principal realistic feature of which referred to the Chicago packing house scandals. A man who had lost an arm in a street car accident was dining with friends who served canned goods from Chicago. He made the discovery of a gold ring which ho hjd worn on the hand of the arm cut off in the accident. The Grand Guignol's latest horror is "La Petite Mnison d'Auteuil." An old baron is always looking for a new sensation. The scene is laid\ in the petite maison of Emma l'Vxlon,' at Auteuil. The Baron amuses himself by thrusting pins in Emma's arm. Hi's satisfaction is suddenly increased by learning that a man had been murdered in the same room a few years previously. The principal was Gustave, now in prison. Emma was an accomplice, but was released on lack of proof. The Baron, supremely happy in these. surroundings, persuaded Emma, by the aid of money, to rehearso tho crime, ho (the Baron) playing the role of "idtim. The Baron is tied in a chair in the same manner as tho real victim, whose throat was cut. In the midst of the rehearsal the handsome Henri, who in the meantime has replaced Gustave in Emma's affections, appears on the scene. Emma retires. Henri says lie also loves suffering, and proceeds to inflict real cruelty on the, Baron. Ho thrusts a lighted cigarette in the Bar.on's eye, heats irons and prepares to burn the Baron's feet, meantime slashing the Baron's face witlv a knife. The Baron shrieks, and Emma returns the shriek. The audience shrieks and cries "Enough!" Women faint, and there is a general real commotion, which furnishes good advertising. As a result, if you want a ticket for the Grand Guignol you must buy it a long time in advance. The play is by Lignercux and Scheffer, who are receiving congratulations for their successful theatrical horror. Professional Jealousy, The late Johnny Toole, in Mr. Joseph Hatton's reminiscences, relates that tho jealousies in the profession of the stage are not more serious than the jealousies in other walks of life; but they are sometimes more inconvenient, if not more amusing. "years .ago'at Nevrcastle-on-Tyne, when I was on tour with 'Dot' and other attractive plays, Irving playing John Peerybinglo and Brough Tackloton, we were considerably upset one evening, after the second act of 'Dot,' with-the announcement that the lady who played Bertha, the Blind Girl, had been taken suddenly ill, and could not finish the piece. She lay in her dressing-room in a dead faint, and although at the outset of her illness she had spoken and said she could not go on again, nothing now had any effect upon her. 'We sent for a doctor, and in the meantime sot about trying to fill her place. The part .'ought to have been understudied, but it was not; there was" a•'lady in the company who was not playing that nicrht; she happened to be in front wjth her husband. She was sent for. I asked her to go on for Bertha, and said I would give her tho words as wo went along. , In the first place sho said nothing would induce her to do anything for the lady who was ill: but there was nothing in tho world she would not do for mo. "At the same time, she would consent to do nothing but read the part. I pointed out to her how absurd it would bo for a blind girl to read a part. Irving, in a quiet way, said it would certainly be a' novelty. Howover, she was obdurate, and Irving Made'the announcement to tho audience that the lady who had played the blind girl had beeiiHaken suddenly ill; and, under the circumstances, Miss So-and-So had kindly consented to read the part. Tho audience applauded, and seemed quite satisfied. Irving came from the front of the curtain, remarking that it was, to use a classic phrase, ''a rum go'; but it was a.much rummer go than any of us foresaw. "Under treatment the fainting lady came round, and the moment she learned that her rival was going on in her place, sho leaped to her feet and emphatically said, 'Never, nevorl' "I'was on the stago'as Caleb Plummer, and of course know nothing of this; hut when the time arrived for the pathetic entrance of the girl to myself and Dot, I heard quite a disturbance at tho wing; the audience heard it too. . ' "'You shall not go on.' 'I must.' 'You shall not, I say!' 'But I-have been an'flounced.' '1 don't care; I am better, and I am going on!' "Then there was something like a scuffle, and the original blind girl, for whoso illness wo had apologised, came bounding on with a look of defiance in her very widely-opened eyes. The audience laughed heartily and applauded vociferously, and when the baggage began to speak, Ibelieve she winked at tho house, as much as to say, 'They don't get over mo'; and the play went on. I need noi say the spirit and intention of the scene was spoiled; but the audience was very good, and, "after all, it was better to play the scene anyhow" than have the blind girl read it. And as.l said, although 'the good Samaritan' .would do"anything for me, she would not; for anyone in the world walk on for a part she did not know without the book, though she had seen it played scores of times."