GREENROOM GOSSIP.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Issue 1256, 14 May 1914, Page 38

GREENROOM GOSSIP.

The Bewitchment of Maud Allan. What Frank Morton says of Maud Allan: —“Her grace bewitches. Her art is a cultivation of the mind that sways the body; it is thought made visible in beauty. All the stuff we have heard about her clothing or lack of clothing is mere twaddle. Here is a woman who could dance naked if she chose to, and still stir no vile impulse. She is as innocent as spring water. I saw her illustrate Chopin’s Funeral Mlarch. Her every motion was restrained and slow. She did not depend on her feet at all. Sh 4 was the embodiment of grief immeasurable, of sorrow beyond human remedy. You could conceive of no loveliness sadder or more touching. This woman is an artist absolutely. She never falls short of an effect, and she never exceeds it.”

“The Mayor of Tokio.”

At one point in “The Mayor of Tokoio,” played at the Adelphi Theatre, Sydney, by the George Willoughby American Musical Comedy Company for the first time in Australia, the fate of Marcus Orlando Kidder, the famous road impressario, depends on whether there is an ostrich in Japan or not, since he has been sentenced to be tickled to death with feathers from that bird. The ostrich itself is one of the leading characters, and is played by Mr. Alt’. Stapleton.

A Word About the Cherniavskys.

The Cherniavskys, the wonderful musical trio who are now touring New Zealand with Maud Allan, the great dancer, are gifted with the remarkable industry, which is characteristic of their race. Since they first began to play in public the three boys have shown an astonishing zeal in pursuing their profession. They have readily contracted for tours involving months of travel and constant rehearsal, and are now so wedded to the business that they haven’t had a fixed home for six years. In Great Britain recently they gave 255 concerts in about sixty weeks, and travelled all over the United Kingdom to fulfil the engagement. In South Africa they had to get over rough and often unmade roads per motor car, incidentally covering hundreds of miles during their short season in that part of the world.

Harry Lauder and His Jokes. Harry Lauder, they say, never has to read the comic papers for jokes. When he wants a fresh story he goes out and notes some commonplace street incident, which he ingeniously adapts for to-morrow’s recital. To take a case, he once saw a drunken man at a place called Douglas Bay, in Scotland, and there was nothing funny in the episode until Lauder recounted it at the music hall. As the brilliant comedian related the affair, “The drunk was lurching up a few steps in the direction of his door, and wildly staggerin’ back to a lamppost to save his balance. As I passed him clinging to the post, I heard him murmuring, ‘God help the sailors on a nicht like this.’ ”

A Singer’s Tragic Ending. A pathetic story was recently told the coroner at Surbiton of the vicissitudes of a well-known . operatic singer who, in the heydey of his fame, as a baritone, sang with Patti and Melba, but who, owing to adversity, was driven in later years to sleep on the Thames Embankment. Deceased was Mr. Richard Green, who threw himself in front of an express train at Surbiton and was killed. Mr. Green first appeared in opera in 1891 as Prince John in Sir Arthur Sullivan’s “Ivanhoe,” and during the following 20 years he sang at the Savoy and Covent Garden. The pitiful story was told by Mr. Samuel Solomon, who described himself as a singer, who had known Mr. Green for many years. Deceased had sung in some of the best operas and musical plays in the country. He had sung with Mme. Patti and Mme. Melba at Covent Garden, and had sung in an opera composed by witness’ brother. A short time agq > deceased got a chance of singing for one of Mr. George Dance’s companies, but when he was tried he could not get up to top G, and after that they did not want him. ♦ • V * * When Melba Could Not Sing. Through hail and sleet and snow Madame Melba kept to her itinerary

(writes the “Sun’s” London representative, referring to the singer’s American tour). It was not until the very end of her programme that she suffered any ill-effects from the atrocious weather. She had undertaken to sing in Boston. The house had been booked to the tune of 13,000 dollars. On the morning of the concert she attempted her usual vocal calisthenics. Not a sound could she produce, not even the thinnest of thin notes. A distinguished physician diagnosed laryngitis. The concert promoter was in despair. “I am ruined,” he declared. “No, you’re not ruined,” Melba replied, “but I should be ruined if I were to sing, for my voice would be destroyed for ever.” The dramatic declaration roused the promoter from his forgivable selfishness. “If the doctor says that to sing will ruin Melba’s voice, then Melba shall not sing, even if lam ruined.” Something had to be done to convince the huge audience that it was no trumped-

up indisposition. Madame Melba, parting with conventionality in the crisis, walked on to the platform in her “Mimi” costume, and demonstrated by her whispered regrets that she could not sing. Patrons were told that they could have their money back at the office if they wished. Not a single application was made. Best of all, perhaps, a young girl, with a voice of surprising excellence, was called upon to eke out the programme, won Madame Melba’s admiration, and is now, thanks to the diva, assured of every opportunity of completely cultivating her natural gift.

Josephine Cohan’s Greatest Day. Josephine Cohan, who will make her farewell in Melbourne with Fred Niblo in “Never Say Die,” considers that the sweetest day of her stage career was when she was handed her first pay envelope. It was not the actual money that pleased, but the fact that it stood for her first success. Miss Cohan made her stage debut at the age of seven in “Daniel Boone,” but her first real salary was in vauedville. She had a small part in a sketch in which her father and mother Were playing on the Keith and Proctor circuit. It was agreed that Josephine, who was too young to protest, should play gratis. At the end of the first week, after giving something like 43 performances, “Josie” was called into the manager’s office and handed an envelope containing six dollars. “That was the great day of my life,” said Miss Cohan, relating the incident. “I knew I had arrived then'!”

Genuinely Funny. After the first night of “The Glad Eye” in London, the “Morning Post” said: “If continuous and hearty laughter throughout, and long and sustained applause at the end mean what we think they meant, there should not be a change in the bill for some months to come. ‘The Glad Eye’ is a most hilarious thing, as genuinely funny as t anything seen for many a day,” and “The Glad Eye” continued its run for nearly two years without a break.

More Williamson Acquisitions. Recent acquisitions by the J. C. Williamson,. Ltd., management in the way of new plays include “Seven Keys to Baldpate,” a fantastic farce comedy drama, considered by George M. Cohan to be his greatest success; “The Land of Promise,” the latest play by Somerset Maughan; and “The Yellow Ticket,” one of the most extraordinary dramas ever staged in America. At present it is the dramatic sensation of that country, and is expected to exceed the success of “Within the Law.” The action of the play takes place in Russia.