BEHIND THE SCENES

Otago Daily Times, Issue 18280, 24 June 1921, Page 3

BEHIND THE SCENES

THE SHAKESPEARE TRADITION. MR ALLAN WILKIE INTERVIEWED. It is not usual to seek inspiration and j enlightenment behind the scenes, rather does the curtain conceal a place of disillusionment where grease, paint reigns supreme, where thunder, lightning, and rain are manufactured on the premises, and •where all that glitters is not gold. When illusion is great gain it may be well to remain in the dress circle; but where Shakespeare is concerned there may be merit in adventuring forth into the unknown. In front of the curtain sit the students of Shakespeare, well furnished in text and literary tradition; but there is the actor’s point of view as well since Shakespeare' himself was above all else an actor and the actor’s point of view can only bo gathered from behind the scenes. Musing thus, a representative of the Otago Daily Times presented himself during the brief interval of one of the plays at the door of Mr Allan Wilkie’s dressing room, and, receiving a cordial invitation to come in, commenced a conversation, which carried on during odd moments at sundry times and places formed the basis of what may possibly prove an interesting interview. It has do be borne in mind that an actor-manager of a repertory company is an exceedingly busy man. During the Dunedin season a rehearsal has been called for every morning—except Sunday, a point to be noted—correspondence and other business occupies the afternoon, and at night the play’s the thing. Very courteously, however, Mr Wilkie made time to reply to the questions of his interviewer. ' “On Saturday wo shall complete the 200th performance of Shakespeare’s plays with our present company. Not a bad record seeing that I bar matinees.” remarked Mr Wilkie. “I do not think it a fair thing to ask the members of my company to play twice in one day. With a change of programme every night and a daily rehearsal the work is quite hard enough as it is.” “It must have been an arduous business getting the thing under way?” observed the interviewer. “ Few people outside the profession have an idea of what it means to produce not one play, but a whole series,” said Mr Wilkie. “ The more preparation of the scripts involves much work. Each play has to be carefully considered and lines and scenes eliminated in order to bring it within a due time limit without injury to the story. • The next step is to try and discover the traditional business observed in the play retaining or discarding and occasionally adding from one’s own imagination such new business as will heighten the dramatic effect without violating the spirit of Shakespeare. The scenery has then to bo thought out and a list made of the numerous properties required. There follow consultations with the conductor of the orchestra in regard to the theorv and style of the music to be used. Perhaps the most important _ factor of all is the wardrobe, necessitating visits to the libraries and consultations with the best authorities as to the correct costumes. The costumes have to be considered collectively as well as individually; they must form a harmonious whole and at the same time- the general effect should not detract from the costumes of the principal characters. This entails not only weeks but months of preparation. _ My particular method of utilising curtains instead of heavy set scenery, for instance, meant an entire departure from any of, my previous Shakespearean productions. It has entailed the introduction of new scenes and the alteration of old ones. We are unable to devote the whole of our time to the production of any one play. With a view to improvement we are continually rehearsing both the old plays and the new ones to be produced.” “The costuming of your productions is certainly much to be admired,” interjected the interviewer, which moved Mr Wilkin to an interesting reminiscence. "The finest costume in my wardrobe is the robe I wear as Macbeth, and it has a history. It was made some 50 years ago by O. and W. May, the well-known London theatrical costumiers, to the order of an old tragedian, Jonathan Dewhurst. Ho had the wardrobe specially prepared for a starring tour he had through India, Australia, and New Zealand. I purchased the wardrobe some 12 years age when Dewhurst retired from the stage, and I took them over the same ground—lndia Australia, and New Zealand—for which they were originally prepared half a cen tury ago. Notwithstanding its age, it is the best dress I have in my wardrobe.” The robe having been duly handled and admired, the stuff being of a make and texture seldom, if ever, seen to-day, a' remark was ventured regarding the versatility demanded of every member of the company, and especially of the principals. Evidently this struck a sympathetic chord. “To my mind,” said Mr Wilkie, “scarcely sufficient Credit is allowed for the demand made upon the company when so extensive a repertoire is undertaken. The public is naturally inclined to criticise individual performers, and does not sufficiently recognise the extraordinary versatility required. 1 may perhaps be- allowed to illustrate my point by an amusing incident which happened when I was playing in Yokohama. The first night I essayed ‘ Hamlet,’ on which the local critic commented: ‘ Allan 'Wilkie’s Hamlet is a fair performance, but we have seen Forbes in the part, and we prefer Forbes Robertson.’ My next performance was Matthias, in ‘ The Bells,’ and the Yokohama quidnunc preferred Irving. Dick Phenyl, in ‘Sweet Lavender,’ elicited a comparison with Edward Terry; and my performance of Marcus, in ‘ The Sign of the Cross,’ called forth a comparison with Wilson Barrett. The last straw was when my Petruchio was damned in comparison with Oscar Asche’s conception, and I turned and rent‘my tormentor. Was it fair, I asked, to make comparisons between my efforts and the finest performances of eminent actors in their particular line? Would not the true test be to put each of the actors named through the same series of characters, and then compare the collective effort? I hope I have made my meaning plain.’’ “ What is your opinion as to the helpfulness or otherwise of newspaper criticism?” the interviewer inquired somewhat diffidently. “ There is a criticism that is distinctly helpful,” observed Mr Wilkie, “ and there is a criticism which is not only not helpful but is decidedly discouraging. The critics are not always acquainted with the traditions and readings of Shakespeare’s plays, and having no standards of comparison simply rely on their personal preferences. When they do happen to know the more or less conventional or stereotyped' reading of the part they are apt to , find fault with an actor who does not venture upon a totally new reading of a line or character, which after ail is the easiest thing in the world to do if one is prepared to sacrifice truth. Personally I think that this striving after originality is the bane of Shakespearean acting. While not glued down to hard end fast tradition I do think that unless you have something distinctly better to put in its place, it is wiser to fall back on tradition. No doubt a great deal of the business and reading we give nowadays is tjao same as was given in Shakespeare's own time and under his persona! supervision. There has been a continual line of actors' since his day with the exception of two or three slight breaks as in the Restoration period, at any rate with the more frequently played pieces, handed down from one generation to another. Even when it is not exactly Shakespearean or Elizabethan experience or tradition, it has been originated by a succession of great actors such as Garrick. Kemble, Kean. Macready, Irving, etc. One cannot lightly discard the accumulated weight and experience of all the groat actors of the past. Personally, I find that when one does institute original business, it is usually entirely overlooked bv a public who do not know whether it is new business or not. Take my Shylock, for example ; in the trial scene with Tubal when he appeals to Shylock not to accept the terms of the court and v then discards him when Shylock agrees to turn Christian; again with Jessica when she drops the keys in fear and horror on Shylock stating that he will immediately return, thereby interfering with the proposed elopement. All this is quite original, and is sufficiently pronounced to be commented upon favourably or unfavourably; yet it _ has never once been referred to either in Australia or in New Zealand.” “Another matter I would like to mention,” continued Mr Wilkie, “is the difficulty of presenting Shakespeare faithfully to modem audiences and this especially in New Zealand. A modern audience is so out of touch with primitive emotion and barbaric passion that it seems unnatural to people accustomed to the stifling or suppression of feeling Yet if the emotion and passion bo not fully expressed there is a danger of losing the true spirit of Shakespeare. As with tragedy, so with comedy, the Elizabethan horse-pip v revolts a modern audience. _lt is very difficult to strike the happy medium, to be true to the dramatist and at the same time not offend the susceptibilities of the audience. In England the audiences have been kept more in touch with the Shakespearean sp'rit by the frequency of the performances of the plays, but Sa New Zealand things on» different.”

“What, on the whole, ia your impression of New Zealand, and especially of Dunedin audiences?” was the final question put to Mr Wilkie. “The Dunedin people, and especially the youthful portion of the audience,” said Mr Wilkie, “ respond to the various points with the same zeal and interest as if we were playing a modern play never seen on the stage before. The interest which the educational authorities of the dominion are taking in my venture and the number of children attending the performances gives hopes of a future when the present limited number of Shakespearean playgoers will be added to by great audiences representative of all classes of the community. 1