Music and Drama.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXI, Issue XVII, 24 October 1903, Page 23

Music and Drama.

It is pleasant and somewhat rare in writing on dramatic productions to be able to indulge in emphasis, and it is specially agreeable when one has to be emphatic on the subject of excellence. It is, therefore, with very considerable satisfaction that the present writer makes the confident assertion that theatre goers who patronise the American drama, as introduced to New Zealand under the direction of Mr. Dan. Frawley, will find that that actor -manfiger has around him a company which, for evenness and all round excellence, has not been seen in the colony since the break of the partnership between Brough and Boucicault and their last tour of the colony, together, some sev•h or more years ago.

“Arizona” is a strong drama, devoid of all the inconsistencies and imitations which disfigure so many inferior plays of its kind, and it is played with consummate ability. So excellent, indeed, is the acting all round, that it is well nigh impossible to make distinctions, since if some members of the company did seem to shine above others, it was because they had finer opportunities, for from the infinite pains bestowed on the smallest’ parts it was evident they were in the hands of genuine artists, who had any amount of reserve power if it had been necessary to call up on it. The quiet unexaggerated characterisation of Henry Canby, a ranchman, by Mr. J. Williams, so diflerent from the usual burlesque of the stage stockman, was worthy of the highest praise one could bestow thereon, and of equal excellence was the inimitable performance of Miss Christine Hill, whose faithfulness to detail in every particular of by play, intonation, and make-up made the part of the housewife stand out in memory as one of the finest creations the writer has seen. Mr. Frawley himself, as Denton, did work equal to anything we have seen from Mr. Brough, Mr. Titheradge, or Mr. Boucicault, and higher praise cannot well be given in Australasia «than this. In his little love scene with his sweetheart Bonita, and the episode of the “side combs,” both he and Miss Eva Dennison played with a delicacy which made the incident a feature of the play. As a fact, the weakest spot in this fine organisation so far as ‘'Arizona” was concerned was Miss Van Buren, who, though earnest, emotional, and conscientious, failed to get the grip on the imagination and heart of her audience which most of the others managed to do.

“Barbara Frietchie,” while a moderately strong and effective drama, and played with equal force and skill to “Arizona,” is not a play which will ever grip the public to the same extent. Moreover, one agrees with the critic in the “Star,” who pointed out the weakness in the finale of the last act, which is ineffective because of the inartistic suddenness of the final tragedy and denouement. And one must again join in the ever-increas-ing chorus of distaste against the ludicrous and maddeningly inartistic custom of raising the curtain on a dead heroine, and finding her bowing her appreciation of the applause. That the custom is well-nigh, universal is no excuse Whatsoever. It is utterly bad, and any artist with an ounce of interest for his or her profession should sacrifice vanity and forego a recall, which illusion at a stroke.

Commencing Wednesday night, Daniel Fjawley will present, at His Majesty’s Theatre, for the first time here, “The Girl I Left Behind Me,” a drama of the Indian frontier, by Franklyn Fighs and David Belasco, and is to be followed by “In Mizzouri” and “Brother Officers.” Owing to the great demands the management have decided to give a special matinee of “Arizona” on Saturday, and all children will be admitted to any part of the theatre for half-price, excepting the gallery. Leo. Trevoi’s brilliant comedy of English military life, “Brother Officers,” will be presented on Friday night. This play has the prestige of an Australian success, as well as its great success in London and New York, and is a favourite in Mr Frawley’s repertoire. The closing bill and farewell performance on Monday night will be “In Mizzouri,” a character drama, by Augustus Thomas, author of “Arizona,” and is a story of homely life in the south-western section of the United States of America. The author has presented a study of character, dramatio, picturesque, but homelike, with a deep heart interest. The story is realistic, told in a simple way, and is thoroughly typical of the life of the community with which it deals. Mr Frawley, as Jim Radburn, the Sheriff of Pike County, has a part in which he has won much praise.

Maggie Moore, as bright or brighter than ever, and even plumper than of yore, has had a successful tour of the colony, and will open her farewell Auckland season on Saturday next, playing in her new piece, “Killarney,” which is pronounced excellent. “Struck Oil,” and “A Widow From Japan” will be staged during the season. Maggie is a strong and evergreen favourite in Auckland, and should have bumper houses to wish her “God-speed” ere she sets out for America to meet her husband, who is pitying very successfully over there.

Mr George Barnes, the popular advance agent, has arrived in Auckland to make arrangements for “The Dream.” He reports that “The Fortune Teller” has done splendid business in the South.

Mrs Smith, of the firm of Mesdames Macdonald and Smith, arrived in Auckland last week on business in connection with the programme of the “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” which are being printed at the “Star” Office.

There are ample indications that the Shakespearean season in Auckland and Wellington will fully justify Mr. Musgrove’s intrepidity in sending over so mammoth an organisation to this colony. The forthcoming productions are already the subject of universal conversation, for there are few who have not heard of their magnificence and beauty from the other side. Shakespeare societies are, one is informed, banding together to arouse enthusiasm, and if one may use such a word in such a connection. Shakespeare is “going to boom” in the two large cities. All arrangements are well in hand for the mammoth staging of “The Midsummer Night’s Dream,” and this stupendous piece of stagecraft, which, by the way, awed even the irrepressible “Bulletin” into frank reverence, will be seen under exactly as favourable conditions as in Sydney or Melbourne.

The superior charm of “As You Like It” is generally attributed to the fact that it is a happy play, and that its action is enirely in the open air (remarks the “Sydney Morning Herald” in a highly laudatory notice of Mr Musgrove’s company which visits Auckland shortly). Hence the need for the artists to adopt the spirit recommended by Orlando in the words, “Cheerily! Adam! Cheerily!” a spirit whieh permeates the comedy throughout, and by whieh the sunny set scenes of this beautiful production are manifestly inspired. It is not possible to describe all these scenes in detail. There is the orchard with its straw beehives, ruined thatched summer house, and fruit trees in blossom, with a glimpse of the flower garden beyond. The wrestling match, prolonged with clever elaboration between the colossal Charles (Mr J. R. Stuart) and his graceful opponent, took place upon a thicklyturfed lawn beneath a huge elm tree, whilst all the accesssories of rank and pomp, exhibited by the courtiers of the ducal retinue, gave brilliancy to the scene. The costumes were superb. Six different “parts” of the forest were shown. When Amiens (Mr Charles Kenningham) sings “Under the Greenwood Tree” with tuneful art, the audience sees a huge old giant of the forest, whose leafage spreads right down to the footlights, with a vista of undulating glade as far as the eye can reach. Orlando and old Adam faint for food at the foot of a steep hillside, with young trees growing on it, and a great landscape view of beautiful, but rugged, country in which there is no sign of habitation or help. Tlie acting at this point is probably the best in the play. Mr Norman Partridge, always an acceptable Orlando, shines above many we have seen in his natural demonstrations of tenderness for the faithful old retainer. Mr Athol Forde draws a touching picture of Adam, whom he represents in all his piety, devotion, and high-heartedness, like some great Biblical character.

“Hamlet,” which the Auckland Shakespeare Society took for their final reading last week, was remarkable for the fine reading of the Prince by Mr Earl and the complete excellence of Mrs Kekwick’s rendering of Ophelia. Mr Montague, as the first gravedigger, was heard to greater advantage than yet this season, and Mr Walker was captial, indeed, as the ghost. A mistake had been made in casting Miss Ockenden for the Queen, and the Laentes. of Mr Pollen was a, very weak spot in the performance,

otherwise enjoyable and adequate. Of the readings the society gave during the season, “Julius Caesar” and “As Yon l.ike It” were probably the best, and “Tlie Merchant of Venice” was unquestionably tlie weakest. Tlie society has done excellent work in re-orgauising a body which is obviously welcome, and Mr Montague, lion. secretary, who did the whole of the work single-hand-ed.

The New Zealand tour of the Willoughby and Geach Comedy Company begins at Dunedin on October 24, after whieh the company open in Christchurch at carnival time. The management have also taken over from Mr. J. C. Williamson a tour, whieh embraces Auckland for Christina.-. The company’s repertoire will include “Topsy Turvy” and “The Boy From Buffalo,” in addition to “Mistakes Will Happen,” which will be staged for the first time in New Zealand. Mr. Edwin Geach has left Sydney to-day en route for Dunedin.

Mr Peter Savieri, the comedian, has remodelled the Majeroni Dramatic Company as the Peter Savieri Company, and, having taken over the Timaru and Ashburton show dates, will reappear in New Zealand at Timaru on the 26th inst. Visits to Christchurch and the Northern cities are contemplated if dates and other details can be arranged. The new company has been considerably strengthened, and will have a large repertoire of splendid dramas, including "The Colleen Bawn” (probably the opening bill in Timaru), Marcus Clark's great story “For the Term of His Natural Life,” “Tlie Black Flag,” “The Roll of the Drum,” etc.

A new play has just been produced in New York by Mr. Leo Ditriechstein, the adapter of “Are You a Mason?” It is called “Vivian's Papa,” and is described as even more amusing than its predecessor.

Mr. Dan Leno’s health is said to be improving at Bournemouth. He was taken by his friends to the Winter Gardens, and was sitting quietly among the audience while a well-known performer was giving a series of funny society snapshots. At its conclusion Dan walked up on to the platform, and patted the entertainer on the back as a sign of approval. The audience immediately recognised the little man, and gave him a hearty round of cheering. Mr. Leno met at Bournemouth his old friend, Mr. Tom W. Conway, now playing in “A Chinese Honeymoon” on tour, and recognised him while he was enjoying his morning swim, though he was at some distance from the Pier. This recognition has given Dau's friends much satisfaction.

While the brothers Moratto were performing on the horizontal bar at Fitzgerald’s circus at Maitland on September 18, Archibald Moratto missed his hold, and fell heavily, the back of his head striking the ground. He was carried out of the ring insensible, but recovered consciousness after a few hours, and was apparently none the worse. He complained of feeling ill, however, while in the train for Newcastle, and died there on September 24 from hemorrhage of the brain. Mr. P. R. Dix has decided to stage a pantomime at the Theatre Royal, Wellington, at Christmas on a very large scale. The panto., which is from the. pen of Mr. Bert Royle, and entitled “The House that Jack Built,” will be staged in the chief centres of the colony afterwards.

Various are the wiles of the advance agent, says an English correspondent. Visitors to Eastbourne were greatly puzzled by the appearance on the front of a carriage in which sat a female figure in rich bridal costume. By her side was a gentleman in a high hat and light frockcoat, who was apparently paying the bride much attention. As the carriage approached many curious and puzzled glances were east at its occupants by those on the pavements. They realised how cleverly they had been “spoofed” when the vehicle passed and they saw on the back a big bill announcing the proaching performance of “The Fatal Wedding.”

It is sometimes amusing to listen to the conversation that goes on in the popular parts of the theatre after the curtain has fallen, says an English exchange. At the Adelphi, during the per-

formatter of “Em'ly,” and just a* Miss Kaon I Vice, as Rosa Darilc, had left the •tnge, the following remark® were overheard: First Pittile, in a tone of conviction. •‘Well, all I can say is that I wouldn't marry that dark woman. not if she was the last woman on earth." Secand Pittite, in a tone of superiority, “Let me tel! you you are quite mistook. I happen to know she i® a most ha (Table lady.'’ First Pittite, “Get out:’’ His companion, "But she is! And her ’air ain’t dark—it’s quite light.” A derisive smile from the first speaker. Second Pittite, indignantly, “But it i®. Ain’t I done it many- a time myselft I’m her 'airdresser. and I know I”

When will the Governments of the world step in and stop exhibitions of foolhardiness, where the imminent death or disaster to the performer are the only real attractions for the public!

“The Devil’s Wheel’’ is the title of the newest sensation, and it has been presenteJ in England just before the snail left. Il is the invention of Mr. Charles R. Culver, of Springfield, Massachusetts, am! has been exhibited with great success in the T’nited States and in Paris. The feat performed is of the "looping ‘.he loop” order, complicated by the fact teat the large wheels, the circuits of which are completed by the cyclist®, are revolting in a direction opposite to that in which they are pedalling. There are two of these wheels, 17 ft- in diameter, set side by side. They are made to spin away from the men, while the latter, pedalling their hardest in the bottom, are, of course, unable to make any progress in climbing the opposite incline. Suddenly the riders eease pedalling, and exert all their brake power, with the result that the wheels take them rapidly back. Then, releasing their brakes, and putting forth all their strength, the men are able to half circle the loop. Again using the brakes they are carried still further back, until. having gained sufficient -tart, they fly round and round the great wheels. During their career, of course, they are suspended head downward®, and they whirl round and round in a way which excites great enthusiasm. It is claimed that they attain s speed equal to a mile in 3<*se<-®.

Or here is another instance shocking to read about even 13,000 miles off in Xcw Zealand. According to the “Era” « • 5. Miss Beaumont. the wellknov. u lady diver and aquatic parachutist, had a very narrow escape from serious injury while going through her show at Rhyl Pierhead. At the time announced for her performance it was blowing half a gale, and the sen. for a show of this description, was the wor®t possible- imagii-able. However, to avoid disappointing the large audience that had assembled. Beaumont determined to proceed with i>?r performance. which contains a novel feature in the form of a descent into the sea hanging to a parachute. Ascending to the top of a long pole, where is placed a trapeze, the diver swings upon this; then, letting go, descends gradually into the water. The wind being very boisterous on tl.is evening, blew the trapswe in all directions. Tviee Miss Beaumont essayed the parachute descent, but had to -i-t on ac-ownt of the danger. Finallv, after swinging for a minute or so. she !> < go. but found, to her dismay, sae had got entangled iu the ropes of the parachute, amt was falling at a tremendous speed right on to the girder® of the pierhead. She gave up all hope, but the parachute happily opened and carried her just beyond the threatened danger of the girders into the sea. Ewing all her endeavour® io free herself from -lie parachute rope®. Mi®® Beaumont at last succeeded. last not b-fore she had been battered time after time against the girders, causing her to be greatly bruised. Eventually Mis® Reanmont was rescued by a boat and lifted <n to the pier in a very exhausted condition.

The greate-t nuisance of a theatrical manager's life i® the man who claims free admission to a show on the ground that he is an actor. "Of course, you'll have no objection to giving me r box.” grandiosely remarked one of these visitors to a well-known Australian manager recently; "1 played Hamlet at Xoruiiiburra and Orlando at Nhiil.” “I’m aorry.” -aid the manager, "but our rules are rigid. We can't make an exception in your case.” "What!” cried the visitor. "you would deny an actor of my •landing. I'll have you know. -ir. that

I could walk into Co vent Garden any time 1 liked.” “I’m-yes.” mused the manager, “Covent Garden Market.”

Ada Crossley advises all Australian students of vocalism to do as «he did on first visiting Europe—to begin wish Sant ley and to take the final polish front Marehesi; also to learn French. German and Italian each from a special master. Marehesi never charges less than 350 francs a month for three les®ons a week —at the rate of a guinea for each lessen. Miss Crossley says that singers without previous study would require at least two year® with Marches! —she should have had a year herself, but had so many good offers that she left at the end of seven months. The yenng contralto. in an interview with the “Sunday Times.” Sydney, remarked that: In Paris you are surrounded by artist®—it is different from anywhere else. She thinks every rosu who goes Home should have a bank credit of £5OO, and women, who must dress well, require from £HOO to £lOOO- Madame Marches! starls her lessons early—st 10 in the morning. All the students are there, and you sit and listen. You go out. to lunch, and back in the afternoon. It is just like school, and it is a great musical education. Eseh student has to mount the little platform and sing her song, and you can imagine there is some pulling to piece®. Mume. Marches! does not coniine hereelf to the singing, but pays great attention to her pupils’ appearance. Miss Crossley says that to give an opening lecital in London costs from £7O to £lOO. Many debutantes are never again heard of. Going on to speak of Australian voices, she asserted that there tea velvty quality in the Australian voice which is never heard anywhere else- "I have always thought it strange that, considering the number of female vocalists Australia has produced, so few men have been discovered.”

“It is a general rule with me,” said Mrs Kendal, the actress, on one occasion. "never to engage married couples in my company. Whenever 1 have done so I hare had trouble. I want both men and women to act in ray plays without having to mind what their wives or husbands may look like in the wings while they are making love on the stage. The husband of an actress is in nine times cut of ten an intolerablebore. He is jealous when she rehearses, he is jealous when she plays, he is jealous when the audience applauds her. he is jealous when she receives bouquets, he is jealous and suspicious when the manager increase® her salary, he is jealous during the intervals, he makes scenes for her when she returns home, and if he doe® not he sulks, which is worse, because the man who consumes his own smoke is far less bearable than the one who "has it cut and has dc-*e with it.” Even if he is not all that, he has that feeling, which we can quite easily understand, that his wife belongs to the authors «i£ the play, to the manager of the theatre, to the tniblic. to the critic—in fact, to everybody except himself. No. actresses should certainly not marry unless, they marry actors; but as a rule they do not and will not marry actors. The actor may be a hero to the susceptible matinee girl, who sees in him Othello. Hamlet. Romeo. Henry V.. D'Artagnan, or some other swashbuckler, but he is no hero to the woman who dwells in the dressing-room next to his. and who knows that lie is putting on hi® wig. smearing his face with grease paint, making up his eyes, and covering hi® face with violet fonder. with. a puff which he bandies in lady-like manner.

Mr W. S. Gilbert is in controversy with Manager George Edwards of the Gaiety. It would seem Mr Edwards recently wrote of Mr Gilbert: "?:'r Gilbert used, to pe'isli his work to the minutest degree, and then he would absolutely refuse to have it altered in any way. . .

I think that sometimes Mr Gilbert would have found if better to alter and experiment. This might have saved a fine work like •Ruddigore.’ ” Mr Gilbert, iu reply, says caustically:—"Mr Edwardes is quite right in supposing that —after having polished up uiy work to the minutest degree—l have no: been in the habit of handing it over to a stage manager to embellish with alterations and additions at hi® gocel pleasure. If I had done ®o the Savoy pieces would, no doubt, have borne a stronger resemblance io the production with which Mr Edwardee*

name is associated, but that was not the object I had in view. Mr Edwardes is not quite so accurate in his statement that I absolutely refused to have nsy work altered in any way after production. During the run of the piece I not infrequently received and adopted valuable suggestions from members of the eonrpany. but it was my practice to permit uo alterations or addition® to be tuade unless tb-e* had previously received lay sanction. With regard to ‘Ruddigore*—which, by the way, wa® largely altered after the experience of lhe first night-Mr Edwardes is mistaken in supposing that it was a failure. Its success wa® not equal io that of many other of our operas; nevertheless, my share of the profit®, with royalties front the sale of t’ue books, amounted to the respectaide sum of £5500. Not a few successful dramatist* would be glad to compound for half a dozen eueh failures.”

An Englisli aetor complains in “M.A.P.” that no actor is safe in NewYork from the attacks of coloured preachers. “They haven't the least use in the world for a theatre,” says Mr Williams, "and they go about calling it by the ridiculous name of 'The Open Gale to Hell.’ ” The negro ‘-debbildodger” looks ur->n the theatre as only a fii place for the white man. and it is a source of great grief to him that the more civilised black should even enter a play-house, much less take part in the performance. Here is the kind of prayer a “good, substantial, full-fledged, first-class Jonah man” was accustomed to hear offered up in New York by a negro preacher who had nothing but dark frowns for the "In Dahomey” Company at the Broadway Theatre: “An’. O I-o'd! des pluck as bran's from de hu’nin* dem triflin’, good-fo’-nothin' aiggahs dats eutcin’ up monkey shines in dem house® o' sin an’ ’niquity, de w'ite man’s theaytres—’aimin’ de wages o’ sin in de hire o' de debbil! I know. O Lo'd! da®e high wages; but. O Lo’d! dat ain't no ’count long o’ de turrible wiekedne®< an’ sinfuhte®s o’ de business. Dey’s a bu'nin’ an’ blazin’ lake o’ fire for dem low-down niggahs, O Lo’d! where no wages won’t save ’em from ’tarnal wrath! Shoo ’em off dat wicked stage, O Lo’d! an’ back to de way o' righteousness an’ peace, eben if de wages ain’t so big!” And all the people around eried “Amen! Amen}”- — except the Jonah man. who walked ®oi rowfrilly away, forgetting ail about the “collection.'’

The cult of the one-act play may be dying out, yet from time to time there springs into view (writes the London "Daily Telegraph") a specimen of the class so deeply touched with vital significance a® to reawaken interest in a half-forgotten and oft-contemned art. such was “A Story of Waterloo"; such is “The Man Who Was.” In the latter what do we find?. Merely the tale of a ragged, travel-stained wanderer's return to the quarters of hie old reginient—“home” he pathetically terms it—of the gradual reawakening of a memory dimmed and blurred by twenty years’ suffering. of the feverish joy with which old faces, old surrounding®, and old associations are once more welcomed as realities, and of his eventual death, exhausted. spent, yet happy. The part of Austin Liramason, short as it is, is one to tax the resources of any artist. “Dehumanised,” if the word may be permitted. by years of misery and cruel bondage, hardly more articulate than a wild beast, bis clothes so tattered that scarcely do they cling to the spare figure. Limmason bursts upon the brilliant company assembled in the tnes® room of the White Hussars at Peshawiir. In point of appearance. Mr Tree omits no detail. Wild, haggard, fearful, the face overgrown with lank, sparse hair, the man crouches, offering a vivid contrast to the throng of officers resplendent in their sniking uniforms. Tattle by little there comes to him the sense of accustomed surroundings, and slowly, step by step, recollection begins io piece together the shattered atoms of once familiar thing®. Hie hunted look yields to an expres-ion of strained curiosity: a sense of growing recognition steals over the features. All this Mr Tree contrives to show with amazing subtlety and force, yet 1-arely with the expenditure of a word. Later comes full consciousness. Tammason proves that Ke recalls the trick of the candelabrum, that he knows the picture of the regiment's favourite charger ba® been removed from its for-

mer place, that the flag on the chimneypiece is the one he hitn-elf once carried. And as even more conclusive evidence of his identity he recognises his former enemy and betrayer, Colonel Diikovitch. whom now he only strives to reach, inipotently falling in the attempt to the floor. What, indeed, could be more beautifully conceived than the pictnre on which the curtain finally descends? Afar off the bugle is heard to sound tlx order “Lights out,” and as the echoes die away in Che distance Lieutenant Austin Limraason quietly and peacefully pas®< s into the mystery of the unending uigid.

Dress on the stage is becoming more xcd more extravagant. As usual Madame Sarah Bernhardt set the fashion, and the pace, if one may so p-jj Napoleonic play—“ Plus que Reine” it. The dresses worn in the very latest are d«-scril>ed as something marvellous, and have cost a veritable fortune. In

lhe secoad act Mme. Bernhardt wears a wonderful fancy dress representing Cleopatra—a dress so beautiful that one feels one can almost excuse Josephine for wanting to go to the fancy ball in it, even though Napoleon was expected to return at that very moment from his Egyptian campaign. Over some vaguelyseen draperies of soft pink and silver tissue there is a long Sowing robe of sea-blue silk gauze shot with dark em-erald-greea, and bordered wiih long tails of purple lotus flowers with yellow centres. Beiow the waist the draperies are drawn closely round the figure under a full scarf of soft puqde silk, most gorgeous’y embroidered in gold, while there is yet another scarf thrown lightly round the shoulders and. made of cream silk gauze with cold embroideries and a border of vivid green. Leng barbaric chains of emerald® and scarabei are looped across the front of the dress, gleaming and glittering as they catch the light, while huge gold bracelet®, linked together by golden chain®, are worn ou the bare arms above the elbow. The gown which Mme. Bernhardt wears in the third act, when she is proclaimed Empress, is a very lovely, one. It is of the palest green crepe de chine, with scattered rose blossoms al! over it in raised pink cjuffon and silk ribbom embroideries showered with diamond dewdrops and sewn with pale green stones. Down the left side the gown opens to show ecarf draperies of pale pink chiffon. Josephine Wears with this gown a straight shoulder scarf of cream -ilk gauze embroidered with pink roses and finished with long pink silk fringes. In Ker hand she carries a hat of palest blue muslin with pale blue satin strings and a half-wreath of pink roses under the brim.

In the fourth aet Josephine's dress is of fine gold gauze over soft white satis, with a gold girdle at the waist. Over this she wears a kind of Venetian mantle of pale blue soft satin encrusted with wonderful embroideries in gold and pearls, and finished with a large Medici® collar of gold lace stiffly wired Then, in the fifth, and last, act, as tka play now stands, Mine. Bernhardt lias a gown of pale gold-coloured soft satin, veiled with cream gauze and embroidered with gold. -She wears over this dress, for part of the act. a magnificent manteau de Gour in dark green velvet, with flora! embroideries worked in shaded silks upon the velvet in very soft and subdued colouring®.