CHORUS GIRLS WHO KNIT

Southland Times, Issue 23228, 17 June 1937, Page 4

CHORUS GIRLS WHO KNIT

Director Discusses Muttonbirds

BACK-STAGE IN THE MARCUS SHOW

It would be difficult, perhaps, to connect knitting needles and muttonbirds with the Marcus Show, but nevertheless the exotic lovelies who delighted < Invercargill eyes last evening are to be seen knitting industriously backstage between the acts. And as for the muttonbirds, they happened to be the topic of conversation between the technical director of the company (Mr W. Scott) and one of his assistants when a reporter of The Southland Times was introduced. Mr Scott appealed to the reporter. “Say, how do you eat them?” he asked. “Hot when they are fresh

and cold when they are salted?” The reply was a little vague, but happily the director dismissed the subject, and The Southland Times was invited to roam behind the scenes to see how the* Marcus Show works from within. Behind the last curtain at the extreme back of the stage lay the com-

pany’s boxes —huge wooden cases containing the costumes and other decorations, and for the electric equipment, the latter being painted grey. Before the show started the stage was a scene of feverish activity, as the train had been several hours late in arriving, but as time passed order was evolved from apparent chaos and it became clear that the setting up of the stage was proceeding with clockwork precision. Ever and anon the director fired instructions: “Up stage Ernie. How are you? Kind of slack up that end,” and the reply would come: “Okay Scottie,” as the scene-shifter obeyed , instructions. I ' I SHOW UNDER WAY By eight o’clock the stage was ready and the show was under way, and watchful men far up in the flies were standing by at the ropes—hundreds of ropes whose ends lay in great tangled coils on the floor, and each with a separate function of vital importance to the smooth and efficient running of the Marcus Show. In the wings girls who were not on the stage selected corners where they sat and knitted, for all the world as if they were entirely unaware that in a few moments they would be pirouetting before an audience of well over 1000. Knitting seemed such an incongruous occupation in this world of make believe, that the reporter mentioned it to Mrs Marcus, who occupied a seat in view of the performance. “Oh yes,” she said, “all the girls knit. They started it as soon as we came to New Zealand and they knit everywhere—in the trains, the theatres and hotels. Here’s Goldie, she is knitting a scarf,” and Goldie produced her handiwork with a flashing smile. 1 The director explained that Mrs Marcus was the friend and confidant of every girl in the show, and they all brought their troubles to her. She saw every performance from the same position in the wings. A girl came running forward urgently and seized the director’s arm. “Scottie, get somebody to run those boys from that window. There’s nothing concerning them and they are looking in, the hunks!” and the director moved away speedily. To the onlookers the friendly atmosphere backstage was a pleasing feature, and this cordiality was enhanced as the evening wore on, for the performers were plainly pleased with their audience. “The best we have had yet,” one said. “They are quick on the up take and are ready to laugh,” which, it must be conceded, was a distinct tribute to Invercargill.

NO CLASS DISTINCTION There is no class distinction and the principals mingle freely with the choruses, and all use Christian namesGoldie, Nellie, Dolores, Beth, Barbie, Isohel and so on. Incidentally, one member of the company is a bride, having been married in Christchurch. There is no mistaking their nationality, as all speak with a pronounced American accent. A humorous touch was added to the backstage atmosphere when a boy wandered in from the theatre at halftime and tried to sell ice creams to the scantily clad chorus girls. Their horrified shudders convinced him that the market backstage was not promising. Perhaps the greatest responsibility for the successful running of the show rests on the shoulders of the technical director, Mr Scott, who has charge of everything mechanical and who supervises the “building” of the stage. There are 94 members of the company and his task of preparing for them is no light one. The electric effects alone weigh five tons and added to these are the magnificent curtains and the devices for raising and lowering them. One curtain, decorated with black sequins that reflect the light from thousands of facets, cost the company 1500 dollars, and two similar ones with gold and silver sequins are of about the same value.

The company has its own lighting plant, and the great bulbs that illuminate from aloft become extremely hot. A few minutes after the curtain fell the stage was emptied of life, and it seemed that the one idea at the back of everybody’s mind was supper.