THE PERSONAL NOTE

Evening Star, Issue 23681, 14 September 1940, Page 7

THE PERSONAL NOTE

A STAGE HAND REMEMBERS EXPERIENCES WITH BLAND HOLT SSCAR ASGHE LOSES HIS SNAKES THE PICK OF THE PERFORMERS [By Loitebek.] This week, in continuing the resumes of Dunedin’s theatrical past, neither the unique records kept by the ‘ Star nor the newspaper files will be referred to. Instead, this instalment will consist of personal reminiscences as related to “ Loiterer ” by Mr Arthur Marshall, who for 48 years, has been employed as a stage hand, both at the Princess and His Majesty’s, a lengthy period ot service in which he has seen the majority of stage shows presented here, and in which he has played his part in making the offerings of the greatest of thespians a success. For, without reliable work on the part of the stage hands, anything might happen to mar. if not completely ruin, the finest dramatic performances imaginable. Mr Marshall started at the Princess on October 5, 1892, when Walter Bentley and company opened with ‘ The Silver King.’ He was primarily a stage hand, hut he also assisted in operating the lights, which, until 1902. were gas. From 1902 until 1909 he operated the electric switchboard at the Princess, from 1909 until 1931 he did the same at Bis Majesty’s. Mr Marshall, although turned 70, still works backstage at His Majesty’s when there is a company in residence, but visiting companies, which since the advent of talkies gradually became fewer and fewer, seem to have faded out altogether in these days of war. OUT GOES THE GAS. Although gas was the principal form of illumination until the early part of this century, some of the companies brought around their own electrical equipment, notably the Pollards and Bland Holt. Gas provided many difficulties in the way of satisfactory effects, although some ingenious devices produced really remarkable results. The difficulties were never fully realised until the marvels which could be performed with electricity became known. One big-drawback, which was never properly surmounted in Dunedin, was that in scenes where the burners were dimmed, a total black-out frequently resulted when there was more than normal commotion on the stage. This, and explosions (which were frequent in the many melodramatic offerings), resulted in the dimmed burners being put out.

ALMOST A FIRE. There was never any danger of fire from the gas. Mr Marshall recalled only one occasion when there might have been fire in the Princess, and that was not from gas. In one of William Anderson’s highly melodramatic entertainments a scene represented a burning building, and to obtain the effect a man stood inside the building and waved a burning sack. It seemed more a miracle than anything else that the sack in its flutterings did not set alight some of the suspended scenery. One night, when the scene was over, the sack, as usual, was “ put out,” and hung over a rail, back-stage. When Mr Marshall was departing after the show was ended, ho noticed, in one last back-glance, that the sack had fallen from the rail and was smouldering freely, in close vicinity to some scenery. But for noticing that when ho did there might well have been a blaze similar to that which destroyed the theatre in 1873. THE BIGGER THE STAGE THE BETTER. In ‘ In. Sight of St. Paul’s ’ Bland Holt staged an elaborate fire scene, always well under control, despite the fact that blazing buildings collapsed in front of the eyes of the audience. It was subdued by fire engines which dashed on to the stage in true Holt spectacular fashion. Holt, said Mr Marshall, was a man who would use every inch of a stage, no matter how big; in fact, the bigger the better. An instance of the seemingly extreme lengths to which he would go was indicated when he played ‘ In Sight of St. Paul’s’ in Melbourne. .In the theatre where the back of the stage could be opened up so that it looked into Little Bourke street, Holt hung drops on the buildings on the far side of Little Bourke street, and in the fire scene mentioned above, he threw open the back of the stage so that the audience saw the fire engines come straight from the street on 'to the stage.

MOMENTS WITH BLAND HOLT. On several occasions during the 90’s and early 1900’s Mr Marshall toured as a stage hand with some of. the bigger companies, and was more than once away with Bland Holt. These tours gave him a splendid insight into the close attention to detail which accompanied every one of Holt’s offerings. Holt supervised the whole of the stage arrangements insisting that everything be just right. Presenting ‘ The Span of Life ’ in Christchurch on one tour, Holt found himself up against difficulties through the inadequacies of stage appointments. These were not surmounted until the evening, with the result that when the show started all the scenery was not ready to be put into position. Mr Marshall and his assistants actually had to work in Cathedral Square, battening the scenes there and rush them round to the theatre to erect them at the very last moment. That was one of the very few occasions that Holt did not supervise every detail. Where stages were too small m some of the provincial towns Holt would refuse to present a play rather than have it spoilt. There were times when he erected ramps if they would serve a purpose, and the strangest case of this was in Oamaru where it was found the only way to get horses on for a scene was to build a ramp on to the stage. The horses were led up this before the show opened, but had to be led away through the audience when their scene ivas ended. On another occasion in Oamaru the deficiencies of the stage resulted in a motor car overturning into the orchestral well, fortmiately without very serious results. Tours with Holt meant long hours, and hard work, for he carried with him tons of equipment, most of it extremely bulky. NOT A CARP. OP “ SNAKES ALIVE.” Generally speaking, Mr Marshall found players fairly easy to get on with, but some -of the English actors, especially those ivho had made a name for themselves, were exacting and difficult. Oscar Asche, he said, ivas one of the hardest of men to please. In last week’s notes reference Avas made to Cleopatra and her snakes, and this led Mr Marshall to state that Avhen Asche presented ‘ Kismet ’ in 1912, he brought’ with him a number of snakes for one scene. He was given permission by the Customs authorities, to Avhom he was under a guarantee that he Avould take out of the country the same number. After playing Dunedin, Mr Asche decided he Avould not take the snakes to Invercargill, so he leased them to a local showman for a short period to exhibit at shows. In Gore there was a fire and the snakes were incinerated. Asche was not particularly perturbed about this—until he found he had to produce the burned carcasses and so satisfy tho Customs Department they had all been killed 1 THE PICK OF THE PLAYERS. Starting work when Walter Bentley Avas at the Princess may have given Mr Marshall a leaning towards this actor, but certain it is he considers Bentley

to have been one of the best all-round-ers to play here. His ‘ Silver King,’ he maintains, was easily the best of the many offered Dunedin theatregoers, despite the fact that such men as Wilson Barrett played it. Barrett, though a fine actor, was ageing, and past his prime when ho visited Dunedin, and Mr Marshall thought him not quite up to the part then. “ Bentley was a better man that most people thought,” Mr Marshall remarked, “ and in 1 The Bells ’ he gave his finest performance.” Such a statement rather naturally led to the question as to whom he considered the best actor to visit Dunedin. “That’s difficult to say,” he replied. “ There was Reuben Fax as Sveugali in ‘ Trilby,’ which was a magnificent performance, but then I saw him only in the one play, and I liked to judge the merits of a man on the number of parts he played. I’m not sure that I wouldn’t place Julius Knight in first place. He hud personality and ho could act, and in ‘ A Royal Divorce ’ and ‘ Thp Sign of the Cross ’ he was superb.” ' Mr Marshall gave James B. Atholwood pride of place as a character actor, and it will have been noted throughout these resumes that Atholwood always gave excellent performances and in widely differing roles. The question of the best actress was easily answered. Mr Marshall "bracketed Katherine Grey and Ethel Irving. Roth these actresses, he said, gave wonderful performances when they appeared, and in ‘ Paid in Full ’ and ' The Lion and the Mouse,’ staged in 1911, Miss Grey gave interpretations of her roles which outclassed anything lie had seen until then. Ethel Irving was similarly impressive in ‘ Witness for the Defence,’ played in 1912. THE BEST AND THE WORST OF PLAYS. After some thought Mr Marshall considered ‘ A Royal Divorce ’ the best play he had seen. It was one which remained most firmly impressed in his memory. (Last week, readers may recall, a* correspondent wrote on similar lines.) The worst production was announced without hesitation, and that was ‘Robinson Crusoe,’ given by Ada Jimeeu’s Burlesque Company in 1898. This'company “blew out” in Dunedin and left the players stranded—although it was not the first to suffer that fate. Three of the company, Fred. Bluett, Will Stevens, and W. Watkins, were reduced to low straits when they were offered a job by Jolin Fuller, who was running a waxworks show in the City Hall. Fuller paid their board while they worked for him, an agreement which was satisfactory to both parties. “It was that event which really set Fuller on his feet,” Mr Marshall maintained.

Another play which did not appeal in any Avay, although the acting was good, Avas 1 Damaged Goods,’ in 1917. The nature of the story did not appeal for one thing, and the lines, ever so much more outspoken than on the screen, appeared to him exceptionally distasteful, particularly when spoken by the attractive women of the cast. Musical shows as staged by the Pollards were among the best given in Dunedin, and such presentations as ‘ Maritana,’ ‘ The French Maid,’ ‘ The Gay Parisienne,’ ‘ Belle of NeAV York,’ or * In Toivn ’ Avere all events to bo long remembered. Tom ■ Pollard frequently produced amateur shows in Dunedin, Avhere amateur theatrical work was always keen, and on one occasion Mr Marshall asked him Avhy he did not arrange for amateurs to put on 1 Olivette,’ which Avas always a delight when given by the Pollard company. “ Amateurs’ won’t show their legs, that’s why,”, said Mr Pollard. ' DUET FROM ‘ PEPITA.’ While speaking of the “ bests ” and “ Avorsts ” Mr Marshall said he could recall no turn making a greater hit Avith the public than the duet ‘ My Excellent Friend, Bombardos,’ sung by George Lauri and Charles Ryley in ‘ Pepita,’ staged by the Williamson and Musgrovo Royal Comic Opera Company visiting Dunedin in December, 1892. So popular did this song become that special advertisements were inserted in the Press notifying the time it Avould be given, and at the hour people Avould flock into the theatre and stand to hear it, leaving as soondis the encores, Avhich Avere many and vociferous, were concluded. The song stopped the slioav every night. This same musical comedy, incidentally, introduced tho ‘ Ta-Ra-Ra-Boom-De-Ay ’ skirt dance to Dunedin. TOO MUCH WATER. There was a near tragedy at the Princess when, in 1897, Holt played ‘ For England.’ A shot was fired at one of the lesser players, a man named Scarlett, but the direction, of the weapon should have carried the blank wad over Scarlett’s head. On this night, hoAvever, the shot was loav, and it struck Mr Scarlett in the centre of the forehead. But for the fact that he was wearing a cork helmet Mr Scarlett might .have suffered serious injury. As it was, he Avas marked, for the wad penetrated the thickness of cork. A different type of tragedy was associated with Holt’s ‘ Hoav London Lives.’. There Avas a large scene in this, and after it was ended the water Avas drained off into the cellar. On the first night, however, something wont wrong, and the water Avas drained off into a nearby cellar, in a building leased then by Brown, EAving’s. A cousglorable amount of damage Avas caused to tbc stock in tho cellar, and ‘ Hoav Loudon Lives ’ was not again staged oil that tour. A lake scene also came into ‘ Lights of London,’ played by George Rignold and company in 1898. One of the players fell into the lake, in accordance with the script, and Rignold dived in to rescue him. On one bitterly cold winter’s night the water was, for some reason, not heated. The player fell in, and Rignold rescued him, but tho biting air temperatures and the douche in freezing water resulted in the player becoming very ill, although Rignold was unaffected. GRAND OPERA COMPANY DERELICT.

T 1 u; Musgrovc Grand Opera Company, which played Dunedin in 3 001, and which was so well praised, paid a return visit which is not shown in our records, but that is perhaps because it was not a playing visit. The company loft Dunedin for Sydney on the Monowai. Hallway across tIiCM Tasman Sea the vessel broke down, and drifted for some days until thy Mokoia, making the next week’s trip, encountered her. The Mokoia took the Monowai iu tow and returned to Port Chalmers. Many of the members of this company were highly temperamental, said Mr Marshall. One had to be careful what one said to them. He recalls an occasion in a city hotel when one of the male players said something to which another took offence. The latter drew a knife and pursued the offender from the hotel and along the street—fortunately without overtaking him. INSIGHT INTO ILLUSION. Illusionists, magicians, and sleight-of-hand “ masters ” usually tried to screen the. stage off from the hands as much as possible, but, nevertheless, the back stage workers managed to get an in-

sight into some of the mysteries at least. Mr Marshall has worked with most of them since Carl Hertz appeared in 1897, and he has “ seen how it is done ” in many cases. He informed “ Loiterer ” of a few very interesting facts which helped to make substitution, levitation, and similar “ stunts ” loss remarkable from one point of view, but perhaps more remarkable from another. However, it would take too long to explain any of these mysteries here, so they shall remain mysteries. (Are there cries of “Shame” from the gallery?) Mr Marshall believed that the best of all the performers in illusion work wore Leroy, Talma, and Bosco, who first appeared witli a Rickards variety show in 1906, and subsequently with their own company. One of the best bits of illusion work Mr Marshall mentioned was that associated with ‘ Trilby,’ as staged by. the Fax-Crane and the Power-Crane companies. Edith Crane, though a good actress, was not a singer, and in the scene where she was supposed to render 1 Ben Bolt ’ while under Svengali’s hypnotic influence, a “ super ” with a magnificent contralto voice was engaged to sing behind the curtain. Actually the way in which the scene was presented made it impossible for anyone to detect this, and Edith Crane was generally credited with being the possessor of an unusually fine contralto voice, which she certainly did not have. DRAUGHTY.' . Until 191 G there was no heating back stage at His Majesty’s, and in the winter conditions were extremely unpleasant for both actors and workers. The theatre was heated, so that when the curtain rose there at onee was created a down draught of icy cold air from the flies of the stage which swept out across the audience, and caused a snuggling into coats or rugs. The advent of heating was welcome and appreciated. “ EXTRA ” WORK. Tn praising the Broughs, both as actors and on the way they treated the stage bauds. Mr Marshall said that wherever -possible the hands were engaged as “ supers.” In crowd scenes, off stage noises, juries, or in any similar interlude Mr Brough invariably sought the services of the stage hands. He paid them Is a time for their appearances, and tills was always most acceptable. In those days, until the formation of a union, stage hands received only Is an hour, no matter on what day they worked, or how many hours they worked consecutively. NOT PICKINGS, BUT LEAVINGS. “ Pickings ” such as that were very rarely forthcoming from any other company. In the eaidier days, indeed, sometimes it happened that a company broke up (usually under force of circumstances) unable to pay its way, let alone offer pickings. Hot merely once were the stage hands “ done,’ although they were rarelv alone in that respect. Some companies lived up to a tradition that “ whatever happened (and that meant whoever got paid or did not get paid in the final accounting) the stage hands must get their dues. Such companies wore known and respected by the stage hands, if by no one else.

Night “flits” from hoarding'houses were not unheard of when the exchequer had not been filled by the public as anticipated More than one visiting artist found himself (or herself—for the women were as bad) in the black books of every boarding house keeper in the city. It was not unnatural, therefore, that stage people came to be looked on as “ tarred with the same brush,” and many an honest person attempting to seek board away from the regular hotels had satisfy that he was financial and not likely to disappear after midnight via the bedroom window, leaving a trail of debt behind him. . , . Drink no doubt had something to do with the misfortunes (financially) of some of the less important visitors. The hotels kept late hours, and the thespiaus had big thirsts. It was not an infrequent state of affairs for tho start of a show to ho delayed for a fair period while tho various bars were searched to find the leading man. Tho artists derived a certain solace from recounting their merits and past performances to other supporters of the bars, more particularly if audiences were small in the theatre. Sometimes, in .such instances, it • was a case of “ to hell with the audience.” the carefree attitude adopted being one of “ let’s drink and be merry, for to-mor-row we perish.” “Them was the days! ”