Greenroom Gossip

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Issue 1516, 15 May 1919, Page 32

Greenroom Gossip

In accordance with a scheme suggested by the late Mr. Charles Frohman, the American manager who was one of the Lusitania victims, the Cunard Company has been considering the presentation of plays every day on its liners —by an American company on the voyage to America, and by an English company on the opposite voyage.

Writes a leading musical critic of “Oh! Oh! Delphine,” a new J. C. Williamson comic opera: “In the course of his brilliant managerial career, the late George Edwardes gave the public many sumptuous and exquisite scenes, but for sheer picturesqueness he has done nothing so scenically beautiful as the three acts in ‘Oh! Oh! Delphine.’ I think this charming and utterly satisfactory musical play is going to perform to a very triumphant tune. It is particularly strong in that valuable dramatic element- — contrast. The characterisation at all times is most firmly marked, the individuality of the artist given more play than usual. In common with the majority, I want the lilting music, the sweet cadences, the ready wit, the captivating personalities of the leading artists, the pretty faces and the shapely figures, the ravishingly beautiful costumes. All this and more is “Oh! Oh! Delphine” divinely blessed with.

Captain Bruce Bairnsfather delighted a large audience at the Queen’s Hall, London, recently, with a talk on “Old Bill and Me.” Despite thousands of claims to be the original, Captain Bairnsfather confessed that there was never a real “Old Bill”; he represented, in the opinion of the artist, a type of the Old Contemptible. Roughly, the Army in the first winter of the war could be divided into three types, and they were personified by Captain Bairnsfather in Bill, Alf. and Bert. With their aid he was able to portray the jokes of the trenches. Many of the pictures were based on real happenings. An urgent message, “We have two dozen blood oranges. Will you please let me know if you want them for your command?” was the origin of the jest with regard to the number of jars of jam issued; a batman who was able to conjure up pork chops at odd moments inspired the cartoon showing the sentry casting longing eyes on a straying goose. Wherever he went, the lecturer said, he tried to cheer the spirits of the men by his work; one of his first drawings was executed on a cottage wall with soot from the chimney and oil from the butt trap of a rifle; others were pinned up with bayonets on the walls of dug-outs.