SOLDENE'S BESPEAK.

NZ Truth, Issue 82, 12 January 1907, Page 3

SOLDENE'S BESPEAK.

The Story of a Great Singer's Last Appearance. i All middle-aged New Zealamders who are not sour-beiliesj, or were not, iin . the -seventies , "will feel a little thrill about the, region of the pericardium at the. mention of the name |of Emily Soidene, the doyen of } comic opera priiha dpfine, who m that decade had the, whole Englishspeaking world at net fret and who, for vivid virility, personal magnetism, absolute abandonment to her part, purity and range of voice and artistic instinct has never since been equalled ia S«e3i parts. Emily is." a fat old woman now, hut still possesses a lot of her inborn magnetism and has probably a larger oircle of friends, old and new order, than any other retired songstress alive. This is partly owing to the magnetism aforesaid and; partly to the fact that she is kept before tho world by her. rare ability, as a dramatic- critic and general writer, ability which gained for her the position, first, of critic on the Sydney "Evening News," and. subsequently of London correspondent of the same journal. Her letters to that paper, ' 'London week by week, ' ' are the smartest kind of matter and infinitely . readable ."m 1 fjfiiv ' -bxiftht, . _ para•^apsf&" gopipjpy $fPe. ,;, ' . 'Being mixed up with the whole school of lyric art, m London, and desirous of a trip to Sydney (which, like everybody else who has lived there long; she .adores) these, theatrical frii&hds organised a benefit to ithe dear old lady, . which came off last November.' Her. own story thereof, with tbe "notices" she sends, as appearing in' tiie Sydney " Evening News/, makes' reading that will interest I'housands Of. New Zealaovdgrs, hence no < apology for its reproduction is necessary. Miss Soldene writes under date London, November 16 :— \.\' : ■•"■ -. ."■■■ The great 6vent of the season over —the "Soldene Farewell' Matinee" a thing 'of the past.- Aiti afraid this ! will ■ be a ripeadfullr egotistical ! screed "I," "personal pronoun," all over .t'-e place. Still, fc-el I must tell you. guoh a time, such a real triumph, such a", house; 'everybody m London there ; no' end of Australians , Melba m. One box, Ada Crossley m the opposite, Ellen Terry m the stalls ; stalls, full of pconle knowing each other ; my Lords, his Majesty's , faithful Commons, and many folks of hi# .degree. Baldheaded bricade. out 'm great form, bringing their sisters, their cousins-, their auntsv , .and no end of other relations ,y -'^i- •■■-.■■■■■ ', Now it '.'is ov^r, seems like a dream. .Think I cannot do better than send you a few; of the notices. I know you will ; be interested' I know you have a personal feeling for me. It's my delight; .to share, my delight with you. I give you my word of honor, m. the. middle of the tremendous receptioiyl iiad, when the bouse rose to , ' me, ■ my heart went out "down under," and the. thought m my mind was. 'What will they say m Sydney'?"

Rather the Kipling m r ode--but no matter.

' The occasion fitted out with" all the proper surroundings, etc. People sat, stood, leaned against the walls of the theatre from 6 a.m., frost and falling mist ; a^nd thougK'l don't like the idea of them catching cold I like the Mea a them .being: there. Don't you ? ; .. ■ I send you some extracts from London papers :■*- ■, , , #) • The "Daily Telegraph" ;—The curtain rose, the years seemed to dissolve as in 1 a mist, and, rolling aside, revealed the trim, 1 neat figure of Drogan, ni6st famous and popular of pastrycooks, clad m the traditional garb of white, and apparently m the hiphest of spirits. The . ■middle-aged playgoer rubbed his eyes," and stared. Was it possible , that he had been suddenly . transported .back into the early seventies — could it be that he was* seated m this stalls of the old PMI--j harmonic at. Islington, witness of a j the representative team for Ohrist- | church— giv#h , fit and „well—would. well— would make muchly for its success. !, "Wally" ;Lafliin's adjustments at the Basin Reserve Sports. meeting on New Year's Day narined .'. out splendidly m most of the events. "Dory" Leslie was m good form with the pistol, and it was. a rarity to see a straggling st-art. The Otago, Centre has appointed a sub-committee to go into the question, of "crook" running.' The "stiffs" cbtatmiitee, as it is called, has alreaidv had one man up before it, but the blank was drawn. 1 A Dune-din writer, m taking the j Otago Centre to task for its apathy m gptbino- Hector Burke'e half-mile record endorsed . by the council, suggests that the verbose president of the Centre, Mr Marryatt, should take the matter up instead of putting bis "ener into afternoon tea shows. His keenness m the latter direction has earned for him the sobriquet of "Afternoon tea Marryiatt:" ■ . : V- ."■. ■ ■" :

Where was Jim Speed on New Year's Day 1 ■ At the Wellington Centre meetings Jim was foremost m his advocacy of a New Year's meeting, he- wanted a two -days' carnival, m fact. Jim was cocksure of the thousands that would roll up to see the sport, though less ' optimistic colleagues reckoned th-at/he would be more Within the mark if hundreds were substituted. Seeing how Speed cackled so much of what he would and wouldn't do m the interests of sport and Centre, and that some representatives of the Club (Wanganui) which he represents on the Centre, were talcing part m the meetinp 1 .- one would naturally have expected to see him doing his little bit when the Centre was tryimg its utmost to raise, a few pounds m order that a powerful team mifnht be sent down to Christ-church from here next month.. But, no, Jimmy took darn fine care to spend his holiday m more pleasurable fashion and was seemingly indifferent as to whether the Centre went' to the wall over its venture or not. The writer is constrained to say that Jim pot a lot of praise m.; the Dast fot his PTvices to !»*v-p.tH»r alblptips vH.-b tpllv 'flpver have h n m his. Tt.jt, always the way of this world, however. • . • . •

performance of that celebrated comic opera, ''tGenoviieve de Brabant ?" But stern reality presently took him m. its grip— the programme m his hand showed him only too clearly that the nineteenth oentury had yielded place to the twentieth, and that m place of applauding the debut of Miss Emily SoWene he had come to share m her farewell to the stage. And if good-bye had to be said, how better coudd that he done than m the character which set ali London talking thirty-five years ago ?

As her swan-song, she selected the well-remembered duet from "Gtenevieve de Brabant," "Look Down Below," her rendering of which went far to prove that she has lost little or none of tbe mastery of that art by means of which she once brought London to her feet. Even the most brilliant voice must m time shed something of its lustre ; yesterday afternoon, nevertheless, Miss Soldene sang with a freshness and a verve that absolutely surprised all who hoard her. The moment was a trying one, yet the actress, though at first visibly unnerved, rose to the occasion, and the irresistable demand for an enoore which followed the conclusion of the number was not merely s conventidnal compliment, but the outcome of a very genuine desire to listen to- it again.

"Morning P6s"t" :— ln the history of our stage nothing is more remarkable than the part played by outlying and despised theatres. In 1884: Phelps initiated at Sadler s Wells the most comprehensive and 'notable series of Sbakesperian revivals— of course, he produced other plays as well— that modern London has .known. For fourteen years all London flocked to Clerkenwell. In 1885, Miss Marie Wilton (now Lady Bancroft) converted the "dust-hole" into the Prince of Wales', .and relying largely oh . Robertson, for fourteen years drew all London to Bloomsbury. In 1870 the Philharmonic Music Hall was turned into the Philharmonic Theatre, and Miss Emily Soldene, im "Chi]f(?nc" and "Genevieve de Brabant" drew all London to Islington. The old !•!• foer was hardy, and not to be deterred from seeing what he h-sard was good, by the scanty means of locomotion. Qf the Philharmonic operas porhaps the best was "Genevieve' de Brabant," produced m 187.1. To many now getting on m years it contains two duets never to be forgotten. "The Two Gens d'-A'rm-es," with its. dozen and nioxe of encore verses toucbine; on topics of that day, is still the most amusing thine they ever heard, while the beautiful '"Balcony Duet," "Lady Look Down"— sune by Miss Soldene as the enamored baker Drogan. and Miss SeJ'fns DoJaro as the sympathetic Countess— is the most romantic.

Miss Solderie 1 entered m her white baker's dress, and having spoken a few words, imperfectly heard, sang. To say that her voice is all it ever was would be ridiculous, but the method, the feeling, the intelligence, were there, arid the voice, admirably supported by the orchestra, which played no louder than a. distant sea, was strong enough, and sweet enough to give doli'cht all over the house. The casement opened and Miss Violet Luidlow as the Countess responded m kind. The duet finished, the,. Countess .re^ired^ tq v her rppm, 'anfd Dr^gari stood •bowing:. ..There had been great applause on Miss Soldene's entrance ; now there was greater. At last the curtain fell, only to rise again after shouts of "Encore." It wa|s hardly expected that Miss Soktene, who had husbanded her voice most carefully, would sing any more. Yet she sa>ng the whole spnir through again, and perhaps even better than before."

"Daily Chronicle" :— Scwne four or live crowded hours of smoke and glamor aavd enthusiasm, enlivened with the choicest jollity and charm and daintiness that the musical and theatrical art of the day can. offer— from a violin solo by Sarasate to Miss CamiUe Clifford and the "Gibson Girls"— all this only helped towards making the Soldene benefit ,oi yesterday afternoon at the Palace Theatre cn^ of the raost memorable and delir;hlful events that any theatre has witnessed for some time. As a mere monster entertainment,, the thing was a mapnifippnt success. Every seat m the building; amid most of the standwitq-room besides was filled by an audience as distinguished as it was representative. Melba was m a box, and well-known folk were to ;be seen everywhere. • . •. . • About the stalls flitted quite the loveliest bevy of fair programmesellers imaginable—Miss Madge Vincent, Miss Gabriellc Ray, Miss Adrieniie A-u-garde, Miss Lillie Elsie—indeed, nearly all the beautiful young people who just now adorn the musical comedy which has replaced the old opera-bpufiie that owned' Emily Soldene for its acknowledged queen. : As for flhe performance, all the huge programme of Ihirtv ♦ 'turns' ' went without a ■hitch or- a dull or jarring moment. . - ' • ♦ • Still the heart of the whole thing —its crowning pleasure, pattios, -and charm— lav m the performance of Miss Emily Soldene herself. As she had promised, she 'did. veritably appear n her orifrioial costume as "Drogaai," I the pastrycook, and m it sang; the duet, "Lady Look Down Below-," from "Genevieve <le Brabant," the \ gay little opera-boaiffe m which she i dazzled the nlaygoui'g world m the I old days of the Philharmonic, at Islington, long and long ago. Only those who were there can, perhaps, understand the amazing cdurage, art, and significance 'of this little performance of Miss Soldene's. The coStume itself is a jaunty, saucy affair— white knee-breeches and hose, an apron with the corner hitched aI cross, a flaxen wig, a little whfte cap, and a bunoh of white flowers at the breast. Amid tempests of applause trembling with nervousness, vet obviously determined to be just for one day once aßain the dashing, exuberant, irresistible ••Drojran" of years gone by — Mi«r RmiJv Soldene came for- 1 ward, thus attired, and bowed a little stifflxr a, n d form^llv. Then Miss ' Sold^nfl bepan to sine;— an-d what followed was one of the finest little ex«amples of the t>ower of mind over matter that ths theatre has provided pjti^o -?|y> io<?+ doT'q of T T pn.rv "Irvine;. # • • WHh ?. voice + ]vit wps o*.vini.v- : lv being ! »»«=■■» ar.ded ?nd used, av it Ji every bit of art that Miss Selrteao could

muster she sang the sentimental little ballad, Miss Violet Ludlow supporting' her.

As, Miss Soldene sans, the soul and spirit of the part seemed to come back to her. She put a feeling of tenderness and sincerity into the .old song that. can hardly be described.

Then, heartened with terrific volleys of applause she came back, posed boldl^ m the limelight, stamped, her foot, and flourished her hand m. salute with the vigor of six-and-twenty. . . . 1 She sang the whole duet again as beautifully, as tenderly, as absolutel^accurately as before, with all the finish of the genuine musical artist, even when the execution might falter: At the end she worked up to a loni"", triumphant top-note that simply brought down the house.

The ; magic of the thing lay, above all things, of course, m its amazing and transparent earnestness. It was ho piece of tomfoolery— either the costume or anything else. Doubtless, Miss. Sclderie= knew tovh(wf snanynoTy middle-ased people "this tender little song had appealed m the long ago— as love songs do appeal when the heart is young.. Certainly to a good many of those who were there yesterday the little remenrbr^npe was inexpressibly fragrant and "touching. ' Indeed, one' saw the tears actually crcepin>g down the cheek of many an old playgoer,', as Miss Sold-ene was singing. What an ordeal it mus jj have' been to Miss Soldene herself she alone can ; . know.

Then followed the presentation by Mr Tree of a chbque for £653— with a probable : .£l5O to follow— the product of the benefit. Here, of course, was the opportunity for Miss Soldene's humor— in which respect no one had reason to be disappointed. In a shoift, informal speech, Mr Tree had referred to Miss Soldene as "the Ani»el of Islington." He told how he first went to see her act at the, Philharmonic, m 1871. "I need hardly tell, you, 1 ' said Mr Tree, "that I was then almost m long clptheSi I am sure Miss Soldene was m short skirts !" In alluding to Miss Soldene's famous book of "Recollections," Mr Tree added that he was "glad to think that this book' is evert accessible to readers of the Times.' "

' To this, Miss Soldene, still wearing her • "Drogan" costume, replied with a broken, faltering, obviously impromptu, but yet richly humorous, little speech. She confessed with ah mini if able manner that excused" the atrocious pun, that her career had been chequered, but never so pleasantly as by the present cheque, which she kissed and put playfully m her bo^om.

She said she "was. amazed at the number of people who seemed to know iher, even young people to whom she must be little else than a legend. "Even the Kin"- " she exclaimed, "knows all about me and my matinee. Ho has reason to, for I simply bombarded him."

So with much haaKhkissirar. and With a recovery of vouth,~,that was amazing "Drogan" tripped off the stage, and the great event of the afternoon was over.