Music and Drama.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXII, Issue XXI, 21 May 1904, Page 23

Music and Drama.

The Abbott Musical Comedy Company closed a not too successful season in Auckland on Saturday with a double bill, giving the first act of “In Town” and the last of “ The Gaiety Girl.” The house was none of the beat,' andthe performance dragged out somewhat Truth to tell, the company is not what one was led to expect, and depends too entirely on the unquestionable ability of Mr. Graham, who, having to bear the whole weight of every performance on his shoulders, is rather patently overworked, and cannot humanly help showing it. It must be confessed, however, that neither orchestra nor chorus, both of which were lamentably weak, got much or any encouragement from Herr Stapoffski. No doubt it is difficult for a man who has conducted huge orchestras and large choruses through iWagner and Gounod, and inaugurated splendid orchestral concerts to take much notice of such trivial trash as the catchy airs of modern musical farce, but, after all, bad can be made worse or better, and unquestionably the redoubtable “ Slap ” might have shown more command over the material at his hand, unsatisfactory in his eyes as it may have been. ' The old adage concerning “doing work with all one’s might” applies with the accent in this case on the word “ whatever.” Of course, it is open to Herr Slapoftski to assert indignantly he did his best. If this is so, there is nothing left to do—but sigh! It is profoundly disagreeable to have thus to declare disappointment with a company selected and financed by a young New Zealander just making his first ventures in managership of the more ambitious order. But to allow the public to believe that such a company is entirely satisfactory is not fair cither to that public, or still less so to shows where the verdict must be one of universal approbation. If unqualified praise is lavished on a mediocre performance, no laudation, however well deserved and however sincere, can have the remotest value for its recipients. Brough used to feel this very keenly when in New Zealand; and after a very carefully written criticism of his work had appeared, observed with a laugh, “That might under some circumstances have been of the highest value to me, but you’ll give the next burnt cork show just the same attention next week.” It was a good-humoured exaggeration enough, but its grain—and more—of truth left a sting in it the smart of which must remain with several critics who were standing round. He was in a measure right. If the mediocre show is' so lightly treated that the public is encouraged to think it as good as the best, the manager who spends his thousands in importing really capable artists and choristers is justified in feeling aggrieved when only the same superlatives are served up for him.

' -The New Zealand tour of the famous monologue entertainer, Mr. Mclanthon B- Spurr (usually called Mel. B. for ■bort) commenced in Auckland on Monday evening last in a most triumphant

manner. Mr. Spurr drawing a crowded audience, which he subsequently sent home., absolutely enthusiastic with his entertainment. No artist who has visited New Zealand during the past two decades has afforded a more completely satisfying and artistic evening out than Mr. Spurr, and it is a foregone conclusion that the reception accorded him in the Northern eity will be repeated wherever he goes. It would be difficult to say where the greatest charm of this unique performance lies. From grave to gay, from rippling laughter to a lump in the throat, Mr. Spurr can, and docs, transport you at will. You laugh and can remember what you have laughed at afterwards—a feat not possible with many modern entertainments —and there is not one word, not one covert suggestion to which the most punctillious could object. Clean, pure fun, irresistible humour, with agreeable and striking alternations to pathos and philosophic thought are the leading characteristics of the swiftly passing hours during which this prince of monologue entertainers occupies the stage—now at the piano, now recounting some amusing story or giving a humorous recitation, now sitting with his zither in front of him moving all hearts with some such poem as Bracken’s “Not Understood.” which was certainly the gem of his repertoire. Though not prone to take this course, I can confidently recommend all who have the opportunity to attend Mr. .Spurt's recitals.

Harcourt Beatty on his return to England was at once engaged to play at Easter the leading part in Charles Hannan’s-new farce, “The Electric Fan,” at the King's Theatre, Hammersmith.

The Pollarcs played fourteen weeks in Johannesburg, South Africa, opening the new theatre (Her Majesty’s) there. The takings for the first eight weeks averaged £ 1 GOO per week. Prices of admission were 10/C, C/, and 2/C. Living was dear, decent board costing £3 pei- week. . j

Mr Frank O'Sullivan, of Pollard’s Company, predicts a gloomy outlook for theatrical ventures in South Africa at the present time. He says not only is the country overrun with theatrical companies, but that there is a great depression in the money market, and thousands of people are out of work.

It Is now some fourteen years since Mr Pollard re-formed what was then his Lilliputian Opera Company. There are very few of the first members of the company left, most of them having married and left. Three of the ladies who were first to join are still in the adult company—the three Nellies—Nellie Wilson, Nellie Ford, and Nellie Rede.

Tn Ernest Fitts and Miss Maud Beatty, now singing in Rickards’ Melbourne establishment, the public gets a substantial amount of musical humanity for its money, says a Melbourne exchange. Fitts, the mellow baritone, would probably weigh a ton with a little assistance from a thumb under the scale, and Miss Maud Beatty, who wields a nicely rounded and modulated contralto, looks quite tremendous in the neatest rig-out of mandarin and black that writer yemembers recollecting. But despite her size, Maud is shapely. She and Ernest ought to work up a duet; they would make an imposing pair.

At Belgrade the indiscretion of a lieutenant of the Servian Royal Guards, who, visiting the theatre a week or two ago, when in attendance on Prince Paul Karugeorgevitch, took the King’s seat in the Royal box, has excited much loyal indignation and especially that of a local editor. The lieutenant, accompanied by other officers, attacked the editor in a cafe, and lie. is. now keeping at home guarded by his friends.

During the last twelve months fortynine new plays have been produced in London with good results, says “Prospero.” Nineteen of the most successful

showed a profit of over '£loo,ooo. of which the larger proportion was made by “The Toreador.” “Quality Street,” “The Marriage of Kitty,” and "The Admirable Crichton.” Consequently,'there is some foundation for the statement that the prosperity of the London theatrical world for the ;*ast year has no precedent in the history of the stage.

No less than eleven performances of “ The Country Girl ” were given in Wellington. ami—so say the scribes—to crowded audiences on each occasion. The company farewellcd Wellington in “The Mikado,” after perhaps the most, successful season of high-class comic opera ever given in the Empire City. “ My Lady Molly ” is pronounced good by Wellingtonian critics, and “ Ma Mie Rosette ” and “ Dorothy ” were both rapturously received. Both those operas, by the way, take a lot of beating, the latter being equally good in comedy as in music, which is saying much.

As mentioned last week, “The Country Girl ” Company take on the largi r provincial cities till May 28th, when the Auckland season will commence. Estimated by competent judges, it will out-record Wellington and beat all Mr. Williamson's financial successes in the North. True, prices are high, but the prolonged run of melodrama has left an appetite for high-class fare of a lighter sort, which the rather mediocre musical comedy company at the Opera House did little to satisfy, and there are a heap of shekels awaiting the capacious strong boxes of the Williamson treasury.

Considerable interest centres in the presence in Sydney of a troupe of half a dozen Japanese wrestlers, with their umpire and interpreter, secured through the enterprise of Messrs. Fitzgerald Brothers (says the “Mail’'). Wrestlers are a class apart in Japan possessing distinct privileges, and surrounded by a halo of popular appreciation and a network of quaint customs. They are banded together in guilds, dating baek before the Christian era, and they focus in theirown persons the hero-worship which in England is accorded to the cricketer or footballer. The umpire is. in accordance with custom, a boy of about 15, whose family have been umpires for 1000 years. His costume and his every act are directed by tradition. Thus also with the wrestlers. For them a small circle is marked out with straw ropes, laid on the ground in the centre of the ring, they first march into the arena in procession, the umpire in his picturesque robes, the wrestlers bare-skinned but for a loin cloth and the heavy, magnificently goldbrocaded. and embroidered silk aprons. The champion of the team wears in addition a great white rope bound round his waist, and fastened behind in a sort of butterfly knot, and from the rope are pendant tablets bearing his records. This is the champion “belt.” After various ceremonies and invocations have been gone through, the party stalk solemnly out and return, as do the wrestlers, clad only in the loin cloth and cord-fringed - belt, their ■ tawny skins glowing with health and strength, and their big but good-natured looking faces set for the struggle. Salt is sprinkled in the ring for luck, to ensure that there may be no fatal injuries (as the interpreter put it—“ln Japan if you kill a man in a wrestling match —no matter! No one do anything to you. It is in the game”). The contestant also goes to the water-jug, which is set handy, and rinses his mouth with water, the idea being both to refresh himself and suggest to the opponent that he is in extremis, ns wafer is given to dying men. and so to lull him into the belief that the struggle will be brief and easy. Also there is much opening and closing of hands at the ringside, as indication that there are no weapons concealed. All these quaint ceremonies are dictated by immemorial usage, and must not on any account be departed from, and they furnish a decidedly picturesque setting to the coming “clinch.”

Genial George—as hia friends- call Manager George Stephenson—has been hitting them hard in Melbourne, where lie is doing enormous business at the Princess’. He has, moreover, risen to the importance of a whole column interview in the Melbourne “ Herald,” from which the following extracts may be interesting:— r .

Mr. Stephenson is not one of Hie. entrepreneurs who thinks he has a mission to elevate the Australian taste. Strange to say, he thinks the Australian taste is very good as it is. “ Don’t you select your plays and your players with the object of elevating list” the interviewer asked.

“No,” said Mr. Stephenson, emphatically, “ I don’t. Australians don't want instructing or enlightening, but they like laughing. Well, it will pay me to make them laugh, and ke-;p them laughing, and that is what I am going io do.” “ For some time,” continued Mr. Stephenson. “I have beeu noting the trend of Australian taste, and I find that bright singing and dancing appeals to that taste.” “What about Australian talent?” asked the interviewer. “ 1 have not forgotten my brother colonial,” said Mr. Stephenson. “I think our colonials never get a fair chance on the local stage, but you can take my word for it, I am going to try and prove that our actors and actresses are as good as our rowers and cricketers.” “Hear, hear,” said the interviewer. “ Look at Rose Musgrove,” said Mr. Stephenson, becoming excited; “look at Harry Roberts, look at ,” and he went over the list of Australian actors and actresses who have made a name for themselves. “Do you want any thing better? Can you get anything much better if you want it?” Questioned as to his forthcoming ventures, Mr. Stephenson enumerated a programme that should make the mouths of theatre-goers water. An English musical comedy company is due to arrive shortly, and as Mr. I.'auri has carte blanche to secure the very best artists, it can be taken for granted that the company is a good one. The Australian tour commences at the Lyceum Theatre, Sydney, on the 28th instant. Amongst other plays, Mr. Stephenson has secured from Mr. Frank Parker, of the Hippodrome, London, the sole Australian rights of ” The Dandy Doctor,”

“The Skirt Dancer,” and “Bill Adams, the Hero of Waterloo.” These only give a small idea of the surprises Mr. Stephenson is going to spring on the Australian public in the near future He has a comprehensive programme mapped out, and he is going to act up to it.