Music and Drama

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIII, Issue 1, 7 July 1909, Page 14

Music and Drama

(BY

BAYREUTH.)

BOOKINGS. (Dates Subject to Alteration.) AUCKLAND—HIS MAJESTY’S. In Season — Harry Rickards’ Vaudeville Co., with Chung Liug Soo. June 28 to July 3—Hamilton Dramatic Company. July 5 to July 24—Hamilton Dramatic Company. July 26 to August 7—J. C. Williamson. August 24 to September 7—Hamilton Dramatic Company. THE OPERA HOUSE. In Season — Geach-Marlow Co. — “The Broken Home.” WELLINGTON OPERA HOUSE. June 26 to July 17 — Meynell and Gunn’s Opera Company July 19 to July 24 — Allan Hamilton. July 26 to August 14 — Pollard Opera Co. August 16 to 28 — G. Musgrove. August 30 to 31 — Miss Hardinge Maltby. September 2 to 16 — J. C. Williamson. Sept. 17 to Oct. 16 — Allan Hamilton. Oct. 25 to Nov. 13 — J. C. Williamson. Nov. 15 to Dec. 9 — J. C. Williamson. December 10 to 18 — M. Branscombe. Dec. 26 (for six weeks) — J. C. Williamson. THEATRE ROYAL. In Season — Fuller’s Pictures. TOWN HALL. July 3 to 28 — West’s Pictures. PALMERSTON NORTH — MUNICIPAL OPERA HOUSE. August 4, s—Allan Hamilton’s Dramatic Co. August 12, 13—J. C. Williamson's “Jack and Jill’’ Co. August 27—Mischa Elman's Concert. Sept. 20, 31—J. C. Williamson’s Julius Knight Co. October 6 and 7 —J. C. Williamson. Nov. 1 to 6—Hugh Ward’s Musical Comedy Co. Nov. 20 to 22—J. C. Williamson. Jan. 17, 18—Carter, the Magician. Jan. 20 to 24—J. C. Williamson. Feb. 14, 15—The Scarlet Troubadors. March 28 to 31—Allan Hamilton. May 19, 20—J. C. Williamson. June 8, 9—J. C. Williamson. June 20 to 25—Fred H. Graham's Musical Comedy Co. June 29, 30—J. C. Williamson. July 1, 2 —Meyneil and Gunn. August 18, 19—J. C. Williamson. Sept. 30—J. C. Williamson. October I—J. C. Williamson. Nov. 1 to s—Allan Hamilton. Nov. 10, 11—J. C. Williamson. “ The Englishman’s Home.” THE Englishman's Home,” which is soon to be played in the Dominion under the direction of the one and only Williamson, is sure to draw large audiences. Anything that excites the primeval instinct for war in a man’s heart has still a peeu'iar obsession for the public. Civilisation is only a sham and a mere convenience for the mass. Evolution has not carried them to the intellectual isolation of the Peace party. The very name of the Hague conference draws a smile of superior ignorance from the man Who revels in blood and thunder. He has no time for altruistic ideals. He wants guns and brass bands to excite the war hunger in his veins. If he does not want to smash the unspeakable Germans —he at least wants to talk about it. He is the modern savage. “ The Englishman’s Home ” is a strong and a real enough play to excite his national feeling. It is a veritable orgy of Tory patriotism—our stalwart Imperialistic youth are in for a huge mental carousal. The crude emotions in them that they mistake for reason wild rise to the flood, and in the perfervid excitement of the last act it will, amid the uproar, be easy to visualise the ghost of the late Mr. Seddon overshadowing the whole scene, and saying with sepulchral voice: “ Balaclava Inkerman. . . . the grand old flag. ... .” No play in recent times has excited so much comment as this jingoistic drama. It has been dealt with from all points of view, and by all sorts of conditions of men and women. According to discriminating taste, it is a fantastic and impossible play, mediocre in workmanship, lacking in dramatic power, and is by a writer unknown to fame. It has set the Thames on fire, and roused the English public to something like a frenzy where the earnest arguments of the Ministry and Lord Roberts had failed. It bas raised the good old bogey of * foreign in-

vasion of English shores, and scattered a mild form of terror throughout the length and breadth of Britain. “Hysterical, panic-stricken patriotism has asserted itself,” remarks an American critic. What Charles Dibden’s “Sea Songs” did for the navy one hundred years ago. No Attempt at a Story.

There is no attempt in the play at a story in the ordinary sense. Virtually there is no plot and no love-interest. It is (so the London “Times” asserts) not a good play in itself—hardly a work of art; but of real importance as a political symptom. “Its method,” the writer goes on to say, “is crude and amateurish, because the author has put no real person on the stage; his people are all personifications of some tendency or movement of to-day.” “There is Mr. Brown, the typical English ratepayer, whose ‘ house is his castle,’ and who is boiling over with indignation because both the contending armies have had the effrontery to turn this ‘ castle ’ of his into a ‘ strategic position,’ and that, too, without asking his leave. Amid all the pillage and carnage, he goes to look for a policeman. There is young Mr. Smith, the typical suburban ‘ bounder,’ who spends his life at football matches, knows the names of all the players by heart, and looks upon volunteering as ‘silly rot’; and there is Mr. Robinson, the quiet, earnest volunteer, who finds it impossible to convince the others that able-bodied Englishmen have something else to do jus; now than play at games (even the portly Mr. Brown plays diabolo), and who israllied by all the girls of the household because bis uniform is not ‘becoming’ And so they are all wrangling and chaffing and reading sporting papers and generally, in their own phrase, ‘ rotting ’ when—enter two stern gentlemen in foreign uniforms. The Englishman’s (Essex) house is occupied by an advance party of invaders, the army of the ‘Empress of the North’! “From this moment the grotesque, rather squalid, farce of the thing is turned to grim horror. Of course, the main lines of this sort of thing have been familiar enough ever since ‘ The Battle of Dorking’; snug English domesticity is suddenly to be brought face to face with the horrors of war. There is the whistling of bullets and the scream of shells; slangy Mr. Smith, in the very act of perpetrating more Cockney jokes, falls dead with a bullet through the heart. But that is only an incident in the author’s general scheme of contrasting the inefficiency of the untrained English Volunteer with the iron discipline and masterly organisation of the invaders. Our men don't know how to take the range or how to shoot without exposing themselves, don’t know on what flank the enemy is, don’t know anything. By-and-by the order comes for them to retire, but Mr. Brown, indignant with Englishmen for ever retreating before a foreign foe, declarer that he, at any rate, will stay. The shells are knocking Ms ‘ castle ’ to pieces, and a kind of frenzy possesses him. He snatches up a rifle, and does not know how to use it; then finds out the way, and shoots one of the enemy. Quickly overpowered, be is summarily ordered to be shot, as a civilian found in arms. (This particular incident is quite well done, by the way—so well done as tff suggest a classic little story of Maupassant on the same theme.) As his daughter is wailing over his corpse, there is a distant sound of bagpipes. It appears that the British army has been rapidly brought up in trains, motorbuses, anything; and the invaders are caught in a trap. With this final solace to our national amour propre —after all, a theatrical audience is human—this re* maikable little play comes to an end.” The Quixotic Censor.

A number of critics indict the play because it tends to increase the dis* tended apprehension of an attack upon England from Germany. The censor has been careful io strike out direct refer* encea to any country, but “Prince Yoland,” the hostile general, and his officers are unmistakably Teutonic. The number of improbabilities that must bs

•eeepted is so great as to make the whole thing ridiculous as a scare; but the public is not daunted by that fact. The majority of reviewers agree with “The Times” in its condemnation of “An Englishman’s Home” be a poor work of art; nevertheless, the production of plays of this nature, so different fcom romantic rhapsody and rip-snorting melodrama, rouses sparks of hope in many critical breasts. It is regarded as a tremendous confirmation of William Archer’s dictum that the modern drama has reached England at last, and that “the English drama which was nothing is now something.” Mr. Harrison, in the London “Daily Mail,” declares that the play has “not only blown a great bomb into national life, but it has brushed a gigantic cobweb of the English stage.” This unknown army officer, he tells us, has achieved what the critical hammer and theatrical anvil of Mr. Shaw and all his sparks of fire and all those of his satellites and all power of criticism have not accomplished—namely, torn away the mask of unreality and stage puppet convention which has so long palsied the theatre in England. “Instead of a marionette show,” he says, “the play gives us what all these years we have waited for—the truth, the real face of Mary Ann and her ‘sporting brothers.’ ” To quote further:

At Last. “At last we have a melodrama of real people. At last we have a play pointing and enforcing a great lesson. At last we have our stage used as an informative and educative and ennobling platform, a thing of reality, a power which is really a power. And it cannot go back now. One of the greatest clogs on our literary and dramatic work hitherto has been this very absence of it, that blightng influence which wrapt the stage in an artificial veneer of unreality and kept the plays with a purpose, the plays dealng with great things, with the problems and battles of our lives, away from it, and left the intensity of truth untouched. But it has all changed now. Now that managers, writers and the public have seen what a power the stage can possess, what possibilities there are in plays which are fundamental as opposed to the purely elemental, what a pulpit the stage might be,- the good work begun for English drama will go on, must go on, untrammelled in advance. For the national art this is a great thing. It means that it will henceforth be possible for a writer having something definite to say about a subject of interest and importance to say and get it said. It means that we shall get new men with new ideas writing for us, a new spirit and a new inspiration; for with the demand will come the supply. In time, perhaps, even polities will be treated on our stage, and we shall no longer be the butt of the intellectual world as the people who refused ‘Monna Vanna’ and Mr. Granville Barker’s 'Waste.’”

The Musical Value of Strauss’ “ Electra.”

By all odds the most important musical event of the winter has been the production in Dresden of Richard Strauss’ new opera, “Electra.” Opinions differ widely as to the exact musical stature of Strauss, and the permanent worth of his work, but no one can deny his unique position in the musical world of to-day. Debussy and Puccini are his only rivals, and he may be finally ranked above both. “He is the only musician,” a recent critic points out, “who can foeus the interest of two continents Upon himeelf, and whose every new work takes on the significance of an international musical event.” The conditions under which “Electra” was produced are said to have been unprecedented in musical annals. Two hundred and sixteen rehearsals were found to be necessary before the opera was ready for public presentation. During the week preceding the first performance Dresden was thronged by music-lovers of all nationalities. More than two hundred musical critics ■ attended. Strauss himself was present, but the brunt of the hard work in connection with the production of the opera fell upon the shoulders of the conductor, Ernst von Sehuch, who is described as a man of iron energy, boundless enthusiasm and youthful ardour. The effect of the opera upon the audience was most extraordinary. Some •were bewildered; others disgusted. One eminent critic, the Wagnerian scholar, Angelo Neumann, exclaimed: “Absolutc-

ly perverse No ordinary audience will listen to such a work.” The London “Times’ ” correspondent, on the other hand, pronounced parts of “Electra” the finest dramatic music since Wagner. “I have scarcely even been so much moved by any music,” he says. A third critic, an American, who was also deeply impressed, told the correspondent of the New York “15mes”:

"At the end of the performance it was nearly a full minute before the house recovered its equilibrium sufficiently to enable it to burst into a spontaneous roar of cheers and applause. No theatre or opera audience in the world was ever called upon to weather such a strain upon its emotions as that ninety-five minutes of harrowing, thrilling operatic bedlam imposed upon us. “Beads of actual perspiration stood out upon many a forehead. Enthralled as we had been, we were glad that the ordeal was over. If it were Strauss’ purpose to daze ‘Electra’s’ hearers, the Dresden premiere was an unqualified success. Such demoniacal orchestral and vocal efforts have certainly never before been set to music.

“The audience was kept in an incessant paroxysm of ghastliness and horror. The orchestra barked and growled with hellish realism. The singers shrieked and moaned in accents which were something more than agonising. The tone production which resulted marks Strauss for all time as a genius and wizard.”

The story of “Eleetra” is “Hamlet” and “Macbeth” rolled into one. From the moment when Electra leaps like a wild-cat into the midst of the serving maidens of the palace, everything in the drama is subordinated to one note—the passion for vengeance that burns and consumes her. Agamemnon, her father, has been foully slain. Her mother, Clytemnestra, and her - mother’s paramour Aegistheus, are the murderers. She has only one purpose in life—to avenge her father. From an account of the Boston “Transcript” we gather:

“Electra herself, in whom centres the propulsive force of the drama, has ceased to be a woman; she barely remains a human being. Haggard, dishevelled, ragged, she prowls about the sinister house of the Atridae that has seen so many crimes. She plucks at the walls, she crawls on the ground, she scratches in the earth (as beasts do) to dig out the axe that has slain Agamemnon; she howls of death (as a dog howls) from the first to the last word of the play. One idea incessantly absorbs her, haunts her like an hallucination—death for her mother, death for Aegistheus—until she becomes a very maniac of vengeance. Orestes is her brother; yet to her he is less brother than the promised avenger. She despises and detests her sister, Chrysothemis, until she discovers that the girl’s arms are strong. Then Electra would cajole her into a murderess. As she sees death drawing nearer and nearer upon those she hates, savage mockery and horrid elation possess her, When at last the deed is done and Clytemnestra lies dead, a maniacal fury of triumph seizes upon her, and she dances frantically until she falls breathless, crushed by the migh-tv passion of her rejoicing and release. She is a woman demented, possessed.

“Clytemnestra is in like case with her daughter. She exists as one who lives in a tortured slumber that is neither quiet sleep nor yet waking. Pangs pursue her; bloody visions haunt her. She comes, she goes; she shrinks in fear, or she gathers her strength, as one wrapped in a hideous dream. Aegistheus, restless, fearful, shivering at the glimpse of an unfamiliar shadow, is, like Clytemnestra, the prey of his spent and neurotic spirit. Even the buxom Chrysothemis, the semblance seemingly of physical and mental soundness, is hysterical after her kind, when she shouts her desire for life, and reiterates her shoutings for a spouse, for children, for the joys of wifehood and motherhood. The silent troop of slaves that restlessly, nervously, unceasingly go and come at the back of itie etage in the flickering light of their torches, seem like some mentally disordered band. The atmosphere of the play has the breath of a mad house. The palace of the Atridae seems the abode of maniacs.”

To the development of -this gruesome theme Strauss devotes his matchless powers. He follows the text of the play literally, almost slavishly. As in the case of “Salome,” he seems to aim at transcribing in musical language every

sentence, every motion. A correspondent of “The Musical Leader and Concert Goer” (Chicago), Caroline V. Kerr, declares:

“He is primarily a writer of symphonic poems, and when, as in the case of his ‘Salome” and ‘Electra,’ he further elucidates the ‘program’ of his orchestral tone painting by adding stage music, action and accessories—these always retain the character of a running commentary to the orchestra rather than having any independent musical existence. Strauss treats the ' human voice as if it were an instrument, not, however, sharing the same consideration and appreciation of its peculiarities as he does for those of the regular orchestral instruments. He concerns himself less about the individual than the effect, and it is nbt surprising to learn that at one of the rehearsals he complained that the singers were heard too distinctly, and gave orders to ‘drown them with the orchestra!’ “Much of the time the work of the artists could be confined to pantonrme, and all singing eliminated with quite as good effect. “In his bold flights of fancy, he willingly sacrifices beauty to realistic truth. By means of bizarre rhythms, shifting tonalities and harmonious progressions which result in shrieking dissonances, he endeavours to give musical expression to details, physical and psychological, which have absolutely no point of contact with the tonal art. And it must be admitted that he succeeds. With Strauss nothing seems impossible. The freedom of his musical language knows no bounds. The score of his ‘Electra’ abounds in the same marvellous imitation effects which we have come to expect from a Richard Strauss. The fifty musical thoughts or ‘motives’—for Strauss does not disclaim to follow closely in the footsteps of a greater Richard in the use of the ‘leading motive’—serves not only for charac; ter delineation, but the entire text is illustrated almost verbatim. He tells us in the orchestra how Agamemnon was murdered in his bath and then dragged to his sleeping apartment; we see the floors covered with slippery pools of blood; we see the gleam and glitter of the jewels worn by Clytemnestra. We hear the creaking of a door on its hinges when Electra cries: ‘Never open a door in this house!’ We hear the lash descend-

ing upon the animals which are being led to the sacrificial altar, and tbe strokes of the hammer in the hands of Orestes as he commits the double murder. It is detail painting of consummate skill, and gruesome fidelity. The st-ain upon the nerves is so intense that it is not difficult for the listener to imagine that he too has felt the scourging of the lash and the strokes of the hammer, and he is grateful that only an hour and forty minutes has been devoted to such excruciating orchestral realism.”

The new opera brings once more to the fore the question how far Strauss possesses creative genius to match his consummate technique. Years ago Mr. Arthur Symons declared flatly: “Strauss has no fundamental musical ideas, and he forces the intensity of his expression because of this lack of genuine musical material.” Ihe same attitude is taken by many of the critics now. The London "Times” finds the principal themes of “Electra” neither very beautiful nor very distinctive. “The result has been,” it says, “ to drive the composer to rely for his effects more than ever on orchestral colouring alone. That way disaster seems to lie.”

A Notable Opinion. At least one writer, however, Ernest Newman, the latest biographer of Strauss, finds in “Eleetra ” elements of the highest genius. Mr. Newman, who is musical critic for the Manchester “Guardian,” and made the journey to Dresden to witness the premiere of the opera, sums up his impression as follows:—

“ To recall ‘ Electra ’ is to think irresistibly of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. There do seem to be two influences at work in Strauss —one pulling in the direction of long-drawn sensuous melody and luscious harmony, which are delightful but not entirely original; the other urging him towards the new and the strange with a complete disregard of all limitations. . . “The first appearance of ‘Eleetra’ brings moments of nobility. The first call to Agamemnon is splendid in its self-eonscious dignity, and there is great sweetness in the theme which always accompanies the idea that the children of Agamemnon will triumph. “On the entry of Orestes into the Palace to fulfil the fate of the house of Atrius, Strauss shows himself a greater dra-

inatist than Hofmannsthal. The music snakes Orestes, who in the spoken drama is a cipher, the central figure in the drama. He tells us of his struggle and his doom. The death of Clytcmnestra ealla forth an orchestral cataclysm, and the scene which follows stimulates excitement still further. Then comes an interlude of real ‘ irony’ in the Greek sense, where Electra parleys with the doomed Aegistheus. Here Strauss’ gift of sardonic musical humour is fully displayed. Aegistheus dies too, but while the death of Clytemneslra had, in spite of all, the heroic note, here all is sordid and weak. “The dawn breaks, and there is light in the orchestra, too; the relief of the gorgeous, glowing colour after all the grim lurid hues we had had before is almost unspeakable, and the dramatic power and the irresistible swing of Electra’s frenzied danee of death is undoubtedly one of the finest things in modern music. It is a little like the dance of the Superman in ‘ Thus Spake Zarathustra ’ —but there is something superhuman in the deadly intensity of Electra’s passion throughout.

“ Whatever may be said of the rest Of ‘ Electra,’ we feel the hand of a master and the presence of a master mind from tlie moment of the entrance of Orestes, and in the last live minutes we are subdued by the inspiration of true genius. It is a real ‘ purification,’ such as the Greek thinker demanded in tragedy. It is proof as well of a new loftiness of imagination and expression in Strauss. He has advanced from the beautiful transfiguring music of the final scene of ‘ Salome,’ to the exalted, inspired music of the final scene of ‘Electra.’”

The Week in Auckland. Chung Ling Soo continues to draw crowded houses at His Majesty’s, where the Rickards’ Vaudeville Company continue their “turns” with unabated success. He is a demi-gor-gon of illusion, a dion of mystery. If the truth was known as to how this pal. inscrutable Celestial juggles with “tlie [lowers of darkness,” some of us might say, “How ridiculously simple! I never thought of that!” The essential “that” however is as elusive and puzzling as Chung Ling Soo himself is. That is why he succeeds., ft would be a ■bame to be disillusioned! The Geach-Marlow Dramatic Company lias been giving itself up to a week of “The Wo nan Pays.” It is thoroughly stereotyped melodrama, and it drew its regular following of people who prefer theatrical scenes and (sensations, that in comparison with everyday life are veritable caricatures. The company gets down to the abject level next week. It is going to turn on “East Lynne.” Noah’s flood ought to lie a circumstance to it.

Forthcoming Productions—Allan Hamilton's Dramatic Co.

Fresh from a long and' successful season, extending over nine weeks at the Palace Theatre, Sydney, this combination will open a thirteen nights’ season at His Majesty’s Theatre on Saturday next in G. R. Sims’ military drama, “In the Ranks,” a work, which it is cafe to assert, has been a success wherever produced in any part of the Eng-lish-speaking world. In reviewing Mr. Hamilton’s representation of Sims’ drama, the Sydney Press paid the manager the compliment of saying that “In the Ranks," as presented by the Hamilton Company, compared most favourably with the original performance of the work in Australia, when Mr. George Rignold appeared as the hero—“ Ned Drayton.” It should be added that Mr. Rignold personally supervised the rehearsals of the present production in Sydney. The coming Auckland season is strictly limited to thirteen nights; consequently, in order to present four plays, a quick change policy will be adopted by the management. “In the Ranks” will he staged for the first three nights, end then “A Message from Mars” will be presented with all the original mechanical and electrical effects, as done at the Comedy Theatre. London. These two plays constitute the first week’s programme. A special feature of the Hamilton season will lie the elaborate mounting of each production, it being claimed that nothing finer has l>cen aven on the Auckland stage. The company. numbering 35 people, is headed bv Miss Ada Guildford and Mr. George Cross. Popular prices will rule. The booking fee and enrly door charges have been abolished.

Stray Notes. “The King of Cadorna” has already taken a high place in the estimation of the Melbourne playgoing public, and they are showing their appreciation of the new musical play by turning up in large numbers night after night to Her Majesty’s Theatre, and punctuating the progress of the piece by enthusiastic applause and roars of laughter. Indeed the merits of tha piece are ae much in evidence from the rise to the fall of the curtain that its popularity is quite readily understood. The interpreting cast have excellent material to work on, and they are not slow to avail themselves of their opportunities, while their efforts are considerably aided towards the success of the whole, by the brilliance of the stage mounting and dressing. Mr. Bert Gilbert and Miss Lottie Sargent share the honours of the evening as the leading fun-makers, and Miss Dorothy Court, Mr. Herbert Clayton, Mr. Frank Greene, Mr. E. Nable, and others are close up in the Lid for popularity.

The Brisbane season of “Jack and Jill” has concluded, and the popular pantomime will play Toowoomba and Newcastle, en route to New Zealand 1 , for which country the company sail on Saturday. July 10. Realising the difficulty there will be in transporting such a huge organisation, some of the material has already been forwarded by the Sydney transportation staff, and the rest will follow’ with the company. Miss Ethel Warwick, arriving in Melbourne on the Orontes as leading lady for J. C. Williamson’s “Flag Lieutenant” Company, has since her debut been appearing “in good company.” After -studying art at the London Polytechnic end Histrionics in a school conducted by Henry Neville, she made her first appearance with the latter as

Emile de Lesparrc in “The Corsican Brothers.” In July, 1900. while still a girl in her teens, Mr. Beerbohm Tree saw her performance in that famous play, and immediately offered her a position in his company at Her Majesty’s Theatre, London. Next year she transreferred her allegiance to Sir Charles Wyndham, andi her chief engagement •the year after was with Nance O’Neill at the Adelphi. J. R. Benson secured her as leading lady for his well-known Shakespearean Company in 1904, and she followed that with a long engagement with Mrs. Lewis Waller. In 1906 H. B. Irving and William Haviland (two -well-known London men) had the benefit of her'services—the one at the Lyric Theatre, London, and the other during a tour of South Africa, during which one of her most distinguished parts was Ariel in “The Tempest.** She confesses to Juliet, Ariel, and Zaza, as tier favourite parts, and the selection gives us a hint as to her versatility. Miss Warwick has a distinctive type of beauty, which has appealed to many artists, and among others she has been painted by the late J. McNeil Whistler and Sir E. Poynter, while Onslow Ford modelled her head in marble.

Two famous theatrical names of past and present are borne by new members of the J. C. Williamson “Flag Lieutenant” Company, who are on board the Orontes with Miss Warwick. Miss Dorothy Grimston is the youngest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Kendal, who have been for many years honoured and respected by all England, and who had much to do with the inauguration of the more modern school of playing and plays. Mr. Lewis Waller, Junr., is, of course, the son of the famous Lewis Waller, and has played extensively with both his father and mother for several years past.