BEHIND THE SCENES.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 7328, 11 August 1885, Page 4

BEHIND THE SCENES.

(St. James' Gazette.)

Much as I desired to view the ins and outs of a theatre behind the scenes, and willing as one of my friends at the Princess' was to aid me in my wish, there seemed to be no possibility of gratifying my curiosity—in that theatre at any rate, for by most positive orders the alien and the stranger were forbidden tp set foot behind the scenes. Edict XVI of " The Eules and Regulations of Mr Wilson Barrett's Theatres and Company" runs thus: "No member of the company is allowed, under aiiy consideration, to receive strangers in the dressing-rooms or in any part of the theatre." An excellent regulation, but a hard one for me. • There was nothing for it but to become one of the company. By my friend's influence I was introduced to the stage manager, Mr Cathcart, and engaged by him for the run of the next piece, which was as long as I was likely to wish to remain. Forthwith I was duly enrolled on the doorkeeper's list, and, not a little apparently to his surprise, under the norn de theatre of Macready-Brown. This ceremony concluded, I was taken to thejlressing-room, in which j T slioulcl mghtlyliave to exchange the habiliments of civil life in England for the garb of ancient Eome, and transform, the pale complexion of a modern Londoner by a liberal application of grease-paint, "tint"N6. 3|," into the warmer hues of a more southern clime. Following my guide, the manager, I passed through the vestibule into a long, dimly-lighted passage, with doors opening on one side into vast rooms, which appeared to contain a selection of all the wares of Wardour street, Covent Garden, and the Euston road. I caught a glimpse of Roman " triclinia " jostling Chippendale chairs, and solemn statues from the Forum frowning on natty ornaments from the drawing-room of the Silver King or the cosy lodgings of the " Spider," with an amount of anachronism which quite put into the shade the phenomenon of elaborate flowerbeds ablaze with sunflower and geranium standing bolt upright against the passage wall, while the glittering helmets of the legionaries were lying, cheek by jowl, with pewter-pots'from the~Wheatsheaf.

In the half-dark we passed through more doors, which closed silently of themselves ; and, taking a hasty glance down another long passage leading to the stage with more self-closing doors with glass panels, we ascended the gentlemen's staircase leading to the dressing-rooms upstairs.

Here the accommodation provided for the company is quite a sign of the times in matters theatrical. Tliree floors of spacious and airy apartments, forming the four sides of an interior court, are devoted to this purpose, and afford comfortable quarters for no fewer than 150 performers. Each room is well lighted—a gas jet being assigned to each artist, auxiliaries included; for a good light is indispensable to the complex art of making-up. The fittings include a dressingtable running continuously, round three sides of the room, with a wardrobe in the centre, and ample lavatory accommodation, selfdraining, and stocked with capacious ewers of hot. and cold water. In winter time there is the cheerful addition of a fire, protected by a strong wire guard. This department of the vast building reminds one of a huge hotel, and is in striking contrast to the holes and corners which once served as dressing-rooms. Just to the left of where we are standing is a half-open door revealing a dainty boudoir draped in light-blue satin dotted with white roses and adorned with statuettes and choice engravings. Hangingover the pianette is Tadema's "Sculpture. Gallery "; and here, close to the luxurious arm-chair, in which the tiniest of puppios and the most playful of kittens lie down together, is a splendid proof of Landseer's " Playmates." Two inner doors, over which hang the drooping heads of some giant bulrushes, conduct to elegant little alcoves, in which blue-tinted lamps shed a subdued and harmonious light. Such is Miss Eastlake's dressing-room, which has the advantage of being nearest to the stage of any, with the exception of that retained for the a manager himself.

At night, when the actors and actresses, who have been trooping in through the stage-door for an hour or more before the rise of the curtain, issue forth from the various rooms at the summons of the callboy—"First act, ladies! Overture's on, gentlemen!" in the costumes of the several characters which they will presently enact, the scene in the corridors and staircases is striking and amusing. There arc to be seen all sorts and conditions of men, according to the character of the piece. Should it be a modern melodrama, such as "The Silver King," we catch sight, perchance, of the smart and sinister Captain Skinner hastening through a crowd o£ well-dressed idlers to his rendezvous at the Wheatsheaf with the elderly and disreputable Eliah Coombe, who is just coming out from that room yonder, where ho has been putting the finishing (ouch to his bibulous old nose. As they hurry past Xo. 4G, who should meet them but that astute individual from Scotland Yard, Mr Eaxter, who seems by his general get-up and lavish display of gold watch-guard to find the business of a detcotive a lucrative one. And here at the door of the greenroom, where all the corridors from distant dressing-rooms converge, you find yourself in a host of well-known types of 'character There is a starchy and sedate ecclesiastic—a bishop's chaplain, perhaps—in familiar con-, course with that notorious frequentoi' of the racecourse, Benjamin Bilcher, glorious in a white hat with black band and green veil. A little further on, innocent as yet of aristocratic swagger, stands Lord' Fitzßabbyt, apparently fresh from the hands of Truefit and Poole, talking with Mr Bm];s, the prosperous provincial tradesman in Panama hat and West of England dittos. Or, if the piece be a classical or Oriental one, then we may see the King of Rome in all his nia»uificence exchanging notes on the latest betfinowith Lucretia's swarthy Ethiopian. Next we observe the saucy manner in which the protendons of $10 yrhite plume ty Cayt-ain

Cascas helmet are ignored by that pert and cherry-lipped fruit-girl, who will presently be offering in the streets of Rome for a few denarii artificial gros-colman to those grave toga-clad citizens who, in the next piece, will be chewing ends of straw at the Wheatsheaf as Clcrkenwell stable-boys and ostlers. Before quitting the dressing-rooms, I must W S ?! mention the a"endants in them, oi, as they are professionally termed "dressers"-experienced men and women' prohnc in theatrical expedients, who on emergency will get you a button sewn on, a collar starched, or your wicr curled with a willing alacrity that would astonish the most alert of ships stewards, and excite the compassion, if not the contempt, of the languid and powdered Jeames. In my room there was a cheery old fellow of some 60 summers whose aid to me was simply invaluable ■ and his reminiscences of the stage and of the actors, great and shall, with whom in one capacity or another he had been brought in contact during his long experience, were extremely amusing-. Whether recounting that well-known vindication of his amemr propre when, playing Pawnbroker in 1853 to Mr Harry Boleno at Dairy Larie he received from his hands a "too realistic " whack on the pumpkin," lie turned round on the stage and addressed the celebrated clown thus, " Look here, sir ! for two pins I wouldnt finish the scene with you, that's straight! or whether relating with a gratified smile how the late Marquis of H——was once pleased to call him the "merriest old buck hed ever met," Mr W. was always entertaining, always respectful, and I parted from him not without regret. "Ilevenons a nos nwutons." The sta°-e manager having duly pointed out to me my position in dressing-room No. 72, he bade me adieu, having some urgent matters to attend toon the stage; whither he forthwith departed through a small door, invisible to me m the dark passage where we were standing with a startling celerity suggestive of Mr Oreorge Conquest's remarkable exits through a trap. This most active stage-manao-erlis nearly as well known in Mr Wilson Barrett's many provincial theatres and touring companies as he is at the headquarters in Oxford street.

Wending my way back towards the stage door, which seemed to be miles off and groping cautionsly along a particularly dark bit of passage, I was surprised at hearing suddenly, ln a shrill and juvenile voice, the flowing observation:_« Call to-morrow at 12 prompt, Macready-Brown; and mind you re punctual, Macready-Brown!" Whence it came it took me a good minute to discover but as my eyes grew accustomed to the prevailing obscurity I became conscious of the presence of a slender and mercurial youth, with a pah- of bright eyes glaring at me through the gloom. «Pray who are you?" said I. «t am the cal f_ boy, Macready-Brown; and don't you be late thats all!" "Then all I can say is, I replied, "that of all the impertinent young « All right, Brown, this is your first appearance at the Princess's. Abuse me, and it will be your last." Arid he also vanished. Afterwards, when I became better acquainted with him, I was no less amused by bis staid precocity than impressed by the'Delevanti nimbleness with winch he discharged his professional duties signalling in the mezzanine one moment and soaring away to the summit of the buildmg the next, shouting at the top of ac St, VS s '.'" SeCOnd aCt' gentlemen! sec™*