Plays and Players.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XVII, Issue XXII, 28 November 1896, Page 111

Plays and Players.

SOME 'of the Blenheim local amateurs who possess the histrionic faculty are rehearsing a drawingroom play entitled ‘The Coming Woman,’ which they intend to stage at the end of this month or the beginning of next, just about the time fixed for the elections, the proceeds of which are intended to augment the funds of the Literary Institute. It is an exceedingly amusing and killingly funny piece, and some of the situations are very ludicrous. A brief outline of the play is this :—A gentleman who has been resident in China for ten years returns home and discovers that the women have the upper hand altogether ; that they fill all the offices from judges to assessors and Members of Parliament, to captains of ships, whilst the men have taken up the domestic duties. Under the new regime the women have the privilege of proposing, and to the horror and disgust of the young man from China, first an old maid. Miss Wolverine Griffin, proposes to him, then a widow, Mrs Badger, while he, poor fellow, has fallen a victim to the charms of a pretty girl called Victorine Wigfall All this gives rise to all sorts of amusing scenes, which, as the parts have been very well cast, will be made the most of.

The Paris Opera Comique'has re-opened for the winter season with a most successful reprise of Gluck s ‘Orpheus.’ On the first night the public noticed that the staircases leading to the auditorium were new. and now a rather startling story connected with them has leaked out. It seems that last May the staircases were declared unsafe by experts, and the people connected with the theatre were expecting them to fall from day to day. All through June the manager lived in hourly terror of a catastrophe, but nothing seems to have been done till the theatre was closed for the summer vacation. The Opera Comique is an opera house subsidized by the Government, and one would imagine that an unsafe staircase would not be permitted to linger there a day. Nevertheless the Paris papers gravely describe the con dition of affairs now that the danger has passed, and they add that the new staircases are warranted to last till the new home of the opera comique is completed.

Some of the bits of autobiography sent to the New York Sun by stage people seem too good to be thrown away. Here is an incident from the life of Nella Bergen : De Wolf Hopper recently received the following proposition by letter from a New York club man : ‘ If you will let me play the part of Edmund Stanley for one night only I will pay his salary for a week and give vou $lOO besides.’ Hopper was mystified at this offer until the letter was shown to Nella Bergen, who plays the part of Stanley s sweetheart. The pretty blonde prima donna recognised the letter as that of a love-lorn youth who had written her several amatory letters and had vainly sought to make her acquaintance. Miss Bergen with her obscure admirer, however, is not in it with Grace Henderson, who names Li Hung Chang as a captive to her beauty, as follows : ‘ He requested to be presented to the pretty actress. She came from the dressing-room clad in an exquisite gown of pink satin just as the curtain was going up on the fifth act. After the formality of an introduction was over the distinguished visitor said that he desired to express his profound admiration by offering her a kiss. The situa tion was embarrassing for an instant, but Miss Henderson, with charming womanly tact, stepped quickly past her noble admirer with the remark : “You must excuse me, but there’s my cue,’’ and made her entrance on the stage.’ Lottie Collins and Marie Loftus (London music-hall celebrities), and Rose Coghlan, the well-known American actress, will shortly appear in Australia. Christchurch had the Pollards all the carnival week. ‘ My fad is slippers,’ observes Lillian Russell ; ‘ slippers of all sizes, of all countries, of all ages, and no two alike. I have been collecting them since I was fourteen. That was several years ago, at least. I have ninety-two different kinds of slippers, and some of them are rather famous—Nell Gwynue’s slipper, for instance. I have a Greek sandal that is several years older than Christianity. It has a tomb-like odour, but outside of this little detail it is all right. I also have an old Roman slipper, which is worked in bright colours, with lots of gold and pearls.