Theatrical Topics.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, 1 August 1912, Page 18

Theatrical Topics.

Miss Maggie Moore and her company left to-day on a further tour of “Mrs McSweeney,” playing at Hamilton to-night (August 1). Hawera, Stratford, New Plymouth, Wanganui, and Palmerston North follow consecutively with one-night stands, the Wellington season opening on Thursday week (August 8) for a six nights’ season. * V * A correspondent from Westport writes asking if we can supply him with the origin of the term “Green Room” as applied to the stage. In looking up the matter, George Vandenhoff, in his “Leaves from an Actor’s Note-book” (1860), writes that “it arose originally from the fact of that room being carpeted in green (baize, probably), and the covering of the divans being green stuff. But the first Green Room in Covent Garden Theatre was a withdrawing room, carpeted and papered elegantly, with a handsome chandelier in the centre, several globe lights at the sides, a comfortable divan, covered in figured damask running round the whole room, large pier and man-tel-glasses on the walls, and a fulllength movable swing-glass; so that, on entering from his dressing room an actor could see himself from head to foot at one view, and get back, front, and side views by reflection, all round. This is the first point to attend to on entering the Green Room, to see if one’s dress is in perfect order, well put on by the dresser, hanging well and perfectly comme il faut. Having satisfied him or herself on these interesting points, even to the graceful drooping of a feather, the actor or actress sits down, and enters into conversation with those around.” * # * * Strange to say, “The Blue Bird” has not been the success in Melbourne that it was in Sydney, and it is considered doubtful whether it will wing its flight to New Zealand after all. But because a piece does not “take” in Australia it does not follow that it will meet a similar fate in New Zealand. Take “Peter Pan,” for instance. It was a big success in the Dominion, but fell flat over the other side. New Zealanders perhaps are more imaginative. At any rate, let’s hope their imaginings over “ The Blue Bird” will not be in vain. * * * * “The taste of theatre-goers in this city,” writes the dramatic critic of the “Washington Star,” “has developed a certain fixed aversion from which no amount of prestige in authorship, management, or previous success can persuade it. The crime play is barred. There is no active resentment —such as might suggest a tendency to the hissing or potato throwing that constitute a feature of dramatic discussion in the larger commercial centres. It is doubtful whether Washington really dislikes the crime play. The town simply refuses to make its acquaintance i” * * * * It is told of that breezy advance, Mr C. M. Berkeley, that on his return to Melbourne, after the Dominion tour of “The Chocolate Soldier,” he was asked how he would like a part in “The House of Temperly.” When told that the part was that of a lightweight pugilist, who has to fight

a number of strenuous rounds each evening, and that he would have to undergo a course or training tor three weeks, Charles cried off, and threatened to sit under his own vine and fig tree until such time as he was required for a less exacting role. * * * » Norman Page, who appeared as the Cat in “The Blue Bird,” received a letter addressed to him at Melbourne Theatre Royal the other day, which has kept him laughing ever since. It was apropos of the forthcoming production of the Shaw comedy, “ You Never Can Tell,” and said: “I was so pleased with your performance as the Cat that I took my children twice to see the play. Will you kindly let me know by return of post what animal you will impersonate in the next play. I have been told that you are the best animal performer there has been on the Australian stage. I should so much like to see you as a bird, say, the emu, which is Australian. Please let me know.” This to the creator of Bernard Shaw roles! * # * Oscar Asche told a Melbourne interviewer that in his boyhood he was very keen on theatrical work. “ 1 suppose I thought it was an easy way of earning a living,” he said; “most people do. I don’t —now. It is a very hard way. I did succeed in getting on the stage in Australia, you know. After I left school I went to Sydney, and was there two years. I joined an amateur dramatic society, and I played a part.” He smiled at the memory of it. “I played Othello; I played it pretty badly, I fancy. I don’t know how the audience stood it, but they did. Othello is my favourite part now, but I don’t play it often. It is too much like hard work. The third act, you know, is mental hard labour. In London I never played it two nights in succession if I could help it.” * * * * A characteristic story of Geo. Bernard Shaw is told apropos of the production at Melbourne Theatre Royal of his “You Never Can Tell.” On the first night in London, the fall of the curtain was the signal for a striking demonstration on the part of the audience, who cheered vociferously, and the cry went up for “Author.” Mr Shaw was persuaded to take the call, and his appearance on the stage brought .forth another outburst of enthusiasm. This ceased as he was about to speak, and just as he opened his mouth there came a hiss from someone in the gallery. Shaw paused a moment, and then said to the interrupter. “I quite agree with you, my friend, but, after all, what can we do when these fools will clap.” This delightful sally brought down the house. “The Blue Bird” still charms one section of its audiences, puzzles some, and bores the rest (says the “Australasian”). Any play that makes a compelling call upon the imagination must always find some deficiencies in the little world of the theatre, as in the greater world outside it. As to the acting, the most remarkable part in the play is the heavy share taken by a 10-year-old child in Gertie Cremer, who is never long absent from the stage. Yet she was playing boy parts, such as Little Lord Fauntleroy, some years ago, and furnishing turns in vaudeville. In fact, she almost stepped out of the cradle on to the stage.

'lhe shortest known interview on record is that recently given by Charles Frohman to a reporter as young as he was persistent. , Said the young man, “Mr Frohman, it means a lot to me to get a statement from you.” “On what subject?” asked the manager. “I am getting up a symposium on the difference between New York and out-of-town audiences. What, in your opinion, is the difference?” To which Mr Frohman instantly answered, “Fifty cents.” jJj Miss Alice Moffat, who recently joined the Wykeham-Nable Musical Comedy Company, had an exciting experience in Dunedin. She went to put her boots out for the night, and found the woodwork of the room had taken fire. In a few minutes the whole room was in a blaze. Messrs. Greene, Montesole, and other members of the company hurried to give assistance. The chemicals were sufficient to put a stop to the progress of the flames, but not before the whole of the contents of the room had been destroyed. Miss Stella Cazalla, another member of the company, occupied the adjoining room. She arrived from Christchurch the day before, having undergone an operation for appendicitis, and the excitement ofl-the nioment proved too much for her. She was carried down a ladder by one of the firemen, and medical assistance had to b° rendered. It was fortunate that Miss Moffat discovered the outbreak so soon, as the room was in a wing off the building, and the whole wing must have been destroyed. s * * * The story of “The Quaker Girl,” being played by the J. C. Williamson Royal Comic Opera Company, concerns the adventures of Mathilde, an exiled Bonapartist princess, who runs away from a Cheltenham school with her maid, Phoebe, to her old nurse, Madame Blum, at a village near Paris, where she hopes to marry Captain Charteris, a king’s messenger. At the wedding they meet Prudence, a Quaker girl, and Jeremiah, a Quaker on his mother’s side, but a roysterer on his father’s. The story concerns the happy nuptials of Mathilde and her debonnaire lover and their return to Paris, taking with them Prudence. This step of Prudence is caused by the romance that enters her own life in consequence of the dainty maiden breaking away from the colourless rule of the Quaker people, and falling deeply in love with Tony Chute, a dashing young naval officer attached to the embassy in Paris. In Paris there is a series of vastly entertaining incidents, in which the chief of police is largely concerned. The lovers, of course, come out all right in the end. sfc $ # £ Chicago now has a theatre, the Lyric, which keeps open 24 hours in the day. It is devoted to moving pictures and illustrated songs.