Music and Drama

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XL, Issue 9, 29 February 1908, Page 16

Music and Drama

Fourteen years ago, Mr Becrbohm Tree and his company journeyed to Balmoral and there “by command” played “The Red Lamp," then running at the Haymarket, but, unless memory is at fault, this was not its first production. Anyhow, that it should have survived fourteen years, and still stand revival as it did last year in London, is a proof of the vitality and strength of the play with which Mr Flemming chose to make ibc first change in Iris programme at His Majesty’s Theatre, Auckland. It is a fine stirring drama, and if the plot seems a little obvious to us now, that is because we know Russia better and fear her less than all those years ago, before she ceased to be the mysterious bubbear of Europe, and been “whopped” by Japan. Anything to do with Russia in the eighties and nineties had more thrill, for she menaced the world. We did not know how small was the heart or hpw rotten was the mighty carease. But in spite of all we have learned of the inner workings of Nihilists, as we called them then, reformers, as we call them now, there is still abundant “thrill” in “The Red Lamp,” and it is most admirably acted and staged. Decidedly it is not a play to miss. “Peter’s Mother,” which follows, has Is-en most highly spoken of, and then comes “Olivia,” than which no more beautiful, tender and delightful play has ever lieen put on modern boards. Seats for this exquisite version of the Vicar of Wakefield should be at a premium, for it is without exception one of the ■nest productions of our time—or was with Irving and Terry, and one sees no reason why Mr Flemming should not do the play equal justice. dl H'lic new Theatre Royal in Christchurch was opened on February 25th bv the J. C. Williamson Musical Comedy Company in '.'The Blue Moon.” Ji “Humpty-Humpty," with all its glittering attrartWHis, the beauty of its ballet, charming scenery, and its WholeHome humour, free from any suspicion of vulgarity in its dialogue, these, comblined with taking songs, are drawing the people by the thousands. Never liefore has Her Majesty’s had such crowded houses nightly. The costumes worn by Mr Harry Phydora in quick. succesaion come in f»r much comment, and that of a favourable character. He stands in the front tank for the carefully thoMglit-out arrangetueuts regarding his various “dresses.” His maketips ismsiat of the appearance of a charWoman with her moth eaten muff, etc., they you see him in the moat gorgeous yellow and black frock trimmed up to •he latest fashions, as lie step* on to the stage with thia beautiful fitting costume he receives a very wanu welcome.

The marvellous. Artois Brothers, horizontal bar artists and French clowns, who have created a sensation at the Sydney Tivoli, and who will probably visit N.Z., are not of French nationality, as might be inferred from the description and name, but were born in Ireland. They received their early training while connected with Lord George Sanger’s famous circus, and have appeared in nearly every country of Europe. The brothers, who are really brothers, and not merely relatives for stage purposes, as is generally the case, had a peculiar experience not long ago. While on their way to Russia, they were detained at the frontier by the Customs officials, who examined their boxes and demanded payment of duty on the large assortment of silk tights and other garments the acrobats carry with them. The brothers expostulated, and pointed out that they were professionals, but the officers refused to be convinced. The brothers thereupon took off their coats, and there, at midnight, on the little station platform, with the snow lying thick on the ground, they gave such an exhibition of their -skill that the delighted officers passed- all their baggage immediately, brewed tea for them, and sent them away in a special car. Ji “ ‘The Merry Widow.’ ” says the “Mail,” “has captivated the whole of civilised Europe. In America, where five companies arc appearing in it, the rush for tickets at the New Amsterdam Theatre lias been likened to the feverish crowding round the doors of a threatened bank’ In Vienna ‘The Merry Widow’ has been performed 450 times, Berlin 400, St. Petersburg!! 350, Copenhagen 300, Cologne 200, Munich 200, Hamburg 300. Christiana 200. The total number of performances given in German has been over 12,000; in other than German 7,000. It is playing every evening in Europe in nine languages, and its performances lias been witnessed by every monarch in the nine languages, and its performance lias long. The Viennese music publisher, Bernhardt Herzniansky. lias made over £70,000 profit out of the publication of the musical score. Franz Lehar, the composer, has been paid in fees for performances of his opera upwards of £60,000. The librettists have netted nearly £40,000. In New York the gross receipts at the new Amsterdam Theatre are each week in excess of £4,000. In London 50,000 copies of the vocal score liave been sold by the publishers, and they have disposed of 200,000 copies of the famous waltz.” Mr. Williamson has, we understand, the Australian rights. It is not often that a veteran in the dramatic field is able to formulate the secret of his own success in a way to assist others; and Sir John Hare's “Hints for Young Actors" in “Cassell’s Magazine for January is an exceptional example. Sir John is a great believer in the system of the French Conservatoire —modified, of course, to suit the English stage and the English character. And he is fully aware of the hardship created by the improved methods of training. He says, in the article in question:—Schools for acting are springing up. while facilities are afforded in other quarters by repertoire companies, the latter as well as the former lieing of incalculable value, however competitive they may prove in the interim to the experienced but smallpart actor who has been through the mill, and must now stand on his merits. K K Acting itself, so says the experienced and veteran actor, cannot be taught, for it is essentially an art, and. like other arts, depends greatly upon the personality and inetlligenee of the individual, but with favourable conditions and an adaptable mind, the technique of the theatre may be learnt, as are the rudiments of music or painting. And would-be actors to whom artistic success on the stage is a sheer impossibility can by preliminary exercise or examination be weeded out and spared the humiliation of public dis-

comfiture, while some young men and women of talent can go forth inspired by the confidence which only knowledge can bring. The early training of the actor is all-important. The reason why acting seems so easy to the ignorant or the novice, and so difficult to the man of experience, is that the former only sees a simple idea, while the other observes and appreciates the intricacy of a complex problem which only concentration, imagination, and sympathetic study can solve. Amongst the most valuable assets of an actor’s mental wardrobe, he continues, I should include imagination, .observation, and temperament. An actor should always strive after perfection, and 'never be content to rest self-satisfied on his laurels, however successful his impersonation may seem to be. The growth and development of an impersonation is as complex as the character represented, and the actor must study the cause and -observe the effect created by his delineation, the degree of perfection only lieing confined by his personal ability and experience, or occasionally perhaps through the limited opportunities afforded by the author. The time comes when the character has reached its high-water mark of achievement, and the actor must then be careful to avoid degeneration. ji Ji Characterisation is in itself an art, and, like literature, demands the right temperament, a natural inclination, and individuality, together with very considerable talent, if not, indeed, genius. Without this artistic nature and intuition, which if not innate cannot be acquired, the true actor is an impossibility, and even these gifts will avail him little if they are not backed up by unceasing energy and hard work. ji ji “I think a snake is about the only important animal I have not played/’ writes Mr. Arthur Conquest in “Peatson's Weekly, “and only because I am not a contortionist. The monkey is, 1 think, my favourite role. Why, 1 don’t know, unless it is that one can occasionally straighten one’s back while playing it. But my animal part is tremendously hard work, and ’fit’ though 1 keep myself, 1 am absolutely drenched with perspiration from head to foot when 1 come off the stage. And it is hard work, too, learning an animal role. It is very far from being a case of just putting on an animal costume and doing what you like. I should not dream of playing any neiv animal without at least a month’s hard practice—l was three months over the ape in my sketch, “The Sioux," Only by incessant practice in front of a mirror, and in costume, can you learn what your animal actions will look like on the stage.” Ji » “Sardou is the wonder of the age” (says Mr. Beerbohni Tree). Imagine a man not very far off 80 with all the buoyancy and lightheartedness of a youth. His vitality is amazing. He reminded me in some things of our own Sir Henry Irving. Speaking of Sardou, Coquelin declared to me: ‘When lie comes to rehearsal I simply take a chair and watch. There isn’t a character in any of his pieces which he does not act himself, and with such force and realism that the portrait stands out clear and unmistakable.’ During my stay the famous French dramatist invited me to his flat, and there we had a long talk which may not improbably lead to results of a very important nature.” ji Ji Musicians, I believe, are much esteemed these days; but there was a ' time not so long abo when it was otherwise (observes a Ixmdon critic). I have always lieen puzzled by the intense rancour with which the friends of Mrs. Thrale persecuted her for marrying the blameless music-master, Piozzi. But some light is thrown upon the subject in that exceedingly racy book, “Reminiscences of Oxford,” by the Rev. W. Tuckwell, who is. 1 believe, a brother-in-law of Sir Charles Dilke. He tells us that even as late as 1846, when Max Muller came to Oxford, he found that no young mau, even, if qualified, would stoop to the music-stool in public, and that to ask n Don to play would have been considered an insult. Halle, visiting Engalnd two years later, tells us that for a gentleman to be able to play upon a piano

was looked upon as a sign of effeminacy —almost a vice. By hereditary prejudice, the professional musician was looked upon as an inferior, to be paid for his services, to be kept socially at a distance. Stately. Dr. Williams, when headmaster of took to, hairpowder because a lady mistook’Dim for a bass singer in the Cathedral. But Newman played the fiddle, and was proud of his skill. Once, when challenged to a public debate by an enthusiastic Protestant leader, Newman wrote that he could not engage.in such a fray, but would be happy to encounter his antagonist in a competition on the violinAt JU Mr. Sousa, the famous conductor with the eccentric mannerisms is reported ill, and his admirers the world over will wish him a speedy recovery. He is the inventor of the pictorial side of conducting. The “ Washington Post ” March, one of his greatest successes, was named after the newspaper so styled. It was specially composed for a gathering which was the result of a children’s competition in the paper. There are stories innumerable regarding him, but two must suffice. just now. When touring with his band he wears a close-fitting military uniform. At a certain railway station alabourer approached, calling, “ Hi, you, has the 9.30 gone yet?” “I am sure 1 don’t know,” replied Mr. Sousa. “ Well, what are you standin’ there for? Aren’t you a conductor? ” “ Yes,” was the rejoinder, “ but only of a brass band.” Mr. Sousa’s family are naturally musicians, and it is amusing to hear him tell how an American professor came to regard his little daughter as a remarkable pianist. Sousa and the professor were standing outside the former’s country residence, when the atmosphere grew thick and riotous with the overture to “ Tannhausen” “ That is my daughter wno is playing,” observed Sousa, “ Nonsense! How old is she?” asked the professor in a startled tone. “About nine.” “ Remarkable! That girl will become one of the greatest pianists of the day, Sousa. Her execution is extraordinary.” “Yes, she is a clever player,” mused Sousa, but lie didn’t tell the professor that the remarkable young pianist was at work with the “pianola”!