A SUCCESSFUL ACTRESS.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume XIX, Issue 1065, 4 August 1910, Page 18

A SUCCESSFUL ACTRESS.

MISS GRACE PALOTTA’S STAGE CAREER. A CHARMING PERSONALITY. There is something very charming about Miss Grace Palotta, whose winsome ways and graceful acting have made her a prime favourite with New Zealand audiences- She makes friends wherever she goes and is just as popular in Wellington, where she is appearing with Mr. Hugh J. Ward in “The Girl from Rector’s” as in Auckland.

“It is,” Miss Palotta told a recent interviewer “15 years since I first came to Australia” “and I have toured round the principal towns four times. Indeed, I have been seven years in the Commonwealth out of the 15. I came as a girl, and while I had always loved the work, and was full of enthusiasm, I have naturally gained, I hope, in finish. I like Australia and the Australians, for you are so loyal. Each time my reception has been as warm, and the early friends I made are still as true-hearted and appreciative. This season’s opening has shown me that the public who took to me with such ardor when 1 was a stranger, and a mere girl, are ready to welcome me back as a woman, anxious as ever to please those who have shown so much interest in me. I live for my work, and hope some day to create some special role in highclass comedy, which is what I feel would be especially suited for me.” . “There was nothing startling oh sensational about my first becoming an actress,” Miss Palotta continued, “and when young stage aspirants come to me and ask for advice, it is such a simple story that I have to tell that they scarcely credit it. My father died just as I left school, leaving us without means, and one morning when I was in an omnibus in London I heard two girls talking about “getting on” if they came out successfully from having “their voices tried.” r had to earn my living, and the thought flashed across my mind that I would follow them, and see if I could also get a position, as my voice was good. I was very young and enthusiastic, and I suppose something about me pleased the manager, and my very broken English made me a little unusual. For a month I was simply in the chorus, when one of the principals, who played the part of a French lady, was away, and out of the entire chorus I was selected to take her place, partly because of my

foreign accent, I suppose. From that time I never went back to the chorus, but had parts, at first only minor ones, but in a very short time was playing leads. I was certainly fortunate,” added the speaker modestly, with her nrilliant smile. Those who remember Miss Grace Palotta as the Duchess, in “Mr. Hopkinson,” will acknowledge that such parts give greater scope to her specially dainty acting, with her strong predilection for what is natural and refined. The stage is made real life by Miss Palotta, and her characters speak and move before the foot-lights as they would do in, everyday life.

“Above all things, I always try to be natural, and I hope that 1 succeedAs I am really and truly happy whenever I am acting, I think people catch the spirit of my fun —for to me it really is fun, and no make-belief. Of course, I feel hot and tired sometimes, especially when dresses have to be changed nearly a dozen times, but I make quite light of these little inconveniences, and am truly happy in my work. In farcical comedy, one has to be earnest, and play “fun” seriously, so to speak, for it is very easy to be unconvincing, when the situations are to be so carefully studied, so that nothing is overdrawn or palpably absurd.”

A good actress also has to keep always “in the picture,” and give others scope for their points, and in this Miss Palotta succeeds admirably. But even in concerted action, individuality tells. In the first production of “The Runaway Girl,” when a troop of merry maidens climbed a wall, and fell over on the other side, somebody in the dress circle said, “That’s Grace Palotta; doesn’t she fall beautifully? There's nothing vulgar about anything she does. It would be impossible.”

Miss Palotta spoke of her home life, both in Australia and in a corner of old Vienna, where there is always a little spot, which is enshrined in her heart as her true home. “My little mother is there, and she keeps my real home, which, so far, I have managed to visit once in every two years. Perhaps it may only be for a couple of weeks, as was the case when I travelled from America, and went hurriedly over to Vienna, then to London, whence I started for Australia. But the knowledge that I have a real home sustains me wherever I may be, and I believe that for every woman a real happy home life is best. In Australia 1 have many dear friends who when I first came here, adopted me, and in whose homes 1 am always received as a welcome visitor. The servant, question is too great for me to attempt a home of my own, even temporarily here, and then we are always on the move. There are advantages, however, even in this, as one really sees the best of people thus. They have no time to get tired of one; and I believe I must have a large heart, for there is room for so many people. I really like people, and no pretence about it. There may be disagreeable people, but, as a rule, I have only met the nice ones. In the East, we met absolutely charming people, the very best type oi travellers, most delightful, cultured men and women, who took us so readily and naturally to their hearts, and who were good enough to say that we were the very best all-round company that had visited the East. I had fever at Bombay—so had the other ladies of the company —and it left one very languid and nerveless, but, fortunately, I was omy two nights unable to play. Our plans were altered, as Mr. Ward decided to leave the small towns in India unvisited, and the sea voyage to Cnina set us up- It was winter when we arrived in Shanghai, and very cold. The Chinamen were all “furry,” one might have mistaken them for Russians. They wore long coats of fur, or lined with fur, and caps of the same; high boots, and collars turned up round their throats, quite unlike the orthodox Chinaman one sees anywhere else. But the East teems with interest, and one learns every day some new and strange facts. The tour was, in many senses, a pleasure trip —at least it was to me.”

While Grace Palotta was speaking, a young visitor applied for an interview, hoping to be able to hear from the successful actress some “golden road to success” outside that of hard work, and perhaps weary waiting and much persistence. “I am sorry that I am engaged all the morning,” said Miss Palotta, “or else I would willing-

ly see her. But, indeed, it is a mis- . take to come to me. I know so little i to tell aspirants. There are no short j cuts that those who have in some de- { gree succeeded can show the novice. | Apply for work, as I did, and rely upon t ability to do what is required of you. I should like to be able to help those who are anxious to start a career, but I know of no royal road; ’ and some people are foolish enough ■ to think I can wave a wand, and they , will be set on the way to fame and • fortune. In China, a girl wrote to me i very earnestly that she wanted to be- j come an actress, and the letter was : so pathetic that I wrote appointing a time for her to call. “Why do you wish to go on the stage?” I inquired, expecting to hear something original; or, at ad events, j a really forcible reason. i “Because you wear such beautiful ) clothes,” was the unexpected answer. > “It must be so delightful to be always | beautifully dressed-” “Did you advise her?” I asked. “I sat speechless,” said Miss Palotta; “what could 1 say?” “I rise every morning at about halfpast 7, and am in the salon for breaklast before half-past 8, having already had my bath, and gone through my physical exercises. I have a large correspondence, and I am a busy woman, reading a great deal, and studying hard. I love the country, the birds, and flowers, so I go out a good deal. But I never lose sight of the fact that I am living for my work, and everything else must keep me ready for that. I live by rule—a i.ght breakfast, a good lunch in the middle of the day, and just a sma.l repast, as miik and a biscuit, before I go to the theatre. Then, after the play, I take a glass of hot milk in winter, or iced water or lemonade in summer. By midnight I am in bed., and fast asleep-” This is how Miss Palotta keeps herself so joyously serene, so mischiev- ! ously frolicsome, how she laughs so naturally all through the long evening’s work in “The Bachelor’s Honeymoon,” in which she has a heavy part in every act, and between has to ; make so many changes of costume, ! elaborate and beautiful enough to , evoke the admiration ;and envy of/> every woman in the audience.

Even now (and the famous gaiety piece has passed its 500th performance), it is difficult to get seats for “ Our Miss Gibbs” and Mr. Harold Ashton had to wait a few nights before he could really find a stall that was worth sitting in—so he writes from London in a letter.

Although it remained for Mr. F. A. Anstey to do the stage adaptation of tne “ Brass Bottle,” his book struck more than one budding playwright as having in it all the elements of a successful farce comedy. The J- C. Williamson management nearly a year ago received a version locally prepared for the stage, but the author of it set the stage manager a series of effects that were impossible on the face of them. Anstey’s previous experience of stagecraft guided him as to what could and could not be accomplished. As it happened, the tasks he set the producer were regarded by several London managers as exceeding what was practicable. A series of experiments by Mr- Caston Meyer, however, proved that modern stage-craft was equal to the occasion. All concerned in :he Australian production agree that it is the most tricky they have been ever called upon to handle.