A NOTABLE ACTOR.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2412, 29 January 1909, Page 6

A NOTABLE ACTOR.

Mil. GEORGE S. :TITHERADGE

It is.'pleasant to make the acquaintance of, or renew ifriemfehip with, one of tli-e sterling actors of the old school, avhose name has been'associated for the lust twenty years or more with some of the finest work dn dramatic art that the colonial stage has seen, and those to whom the name of Mr George Tithe-radge brought' pleasurniblo recollections 'must have hailed with delight hi-s first appearance on a Gisborne stage on Wednesday evening. A representative of the “Times’ yesterday sought a chat with Mi Tithe rad go at his hotel and found iiim smoking a quiet pipe in an armchair 'in his bedroom. and studying a copy of the “'Silver King.” The pressman was cordially welcomed by Mr Titheradge, who 'laughed whoa the object of the visit was explapiet!. “I thought,” lie said, “if had t jW shot with that sort of thing.” However, he did not deny his visitor tJu ! Py a sure of .a brief conversaGon, ail the course of which he imwlo some interesting and renmi'sccnt observations “Yes ” he remarked, I ani just looking over the -Silver King •which we are to play in Auckland. .Before this tour I suffered from an Attack of appendicitis, and it was thought I was not' strong enough to iulav'tho part, hut I am now regaindug" my strength, so the management have decided to put the play on in the northern city. The ‘Silver King’ was first produced in November, 1882, by Wilson Barrett, and. 1 was present at the first American production on 'New York in January 1853.,. The leading mini in the latter was Osmond -Tearle, and I may remark here that my daughter Madge was in the same cast as Tearle’s son Godfrey in London in Beerbohm Tree’s recent production of ‘Faust.’ She is at-present playing ‘Catherine’ in ‘Henry V.’ with Lewis AAliller. 'Early in'lßß3 I returned from the United States to England find took the leading part in the ‘Silver King’ in Liverpool in July of that year. I wrote to Herman, the author, and offered to buy the play, but it bad already been sold. Before a fortnight had passed I whs engaged to play the leading part in Australia when it was produced there for the first time. I played it many, many times in Australia., but this will lie my first appearance in it in New Zealand. It wUs in the ‘Silver King” that I made my farewell in Australia’ in 1898 when we ran a season of six nights. Wilson Barrett was inMelbourne at the same time and I met him on the street one day just before the commencement of our season. Not having anticipated playing the part again, I had given away my big fur coat and wanted another made. I asked Barrett if he would lend me liis coat for a pattern. '‘What is the good of getting ia new eoat for a week?’ he replied; ‘you had better take mine.’ I did. It was the coat Barrett had used in the original production of the ‘Silver King.’ 17 ye a rs p re v i on sly a n d, a 1 - though it was somewhat old and worn —Barrett hated parting with obi things—-it served the purpose admirably.” Referring to his English career, Mr Titheradge said:—-“It is a curious coincidence that I made my first appearance in London under the management of John Hare in 1877 — when Ellen Terry was loading Indy, and I also accompanied John Hare when he took his farewell tour of England. I was with ihim in the first theatre he ever had, and also with him on his last tour. But, as to the question of obtaining employment on the English stage, I tell-you it is not easy; no matter how well you may be known. I went Home in June, 1898. and I was six months without an engagement. Then I made a ‘hit’ in a J play called ‘Grierson’s Way” at the Haymarket. After that I decided to settle down in London, and I sent out to Melbourne for any family. After I got into work tbe trouble I experienced in the first instance seemed to fade .away ‘like thin clouds before a Biscay gale.’ We played at Windsor by special command before the King and Queen and the Emperor and Empress of Germany. I was also the original ‘Messenger’ in the now famous play the ‘Message from M>irs,’ at the Avenue Theatre. London, and we gave . 534 performances of that piecq. Then I played in the ‘Second Mrs Tanqueray’ with Mrs Patrick Campbell, and went with her company to America. I bad played in the piece many times -liefore, tout Mrs Patrick Campbell created the time part.” Speaking of the stage generally, Air. Titheradge made some pointed com-’ m-ents. He was inclined to think that the dramatic taste of theatregoers had somewhat degenerated, and that the quality of the majority of plays had declined in a greater or less degree. It -was a matter for regret -and although there was ever the possibility of a change for file better he failed to see how- it would occur. “Managers,” he said, “shove to please the public taste. They are ‘out for tlie dough’—as one would say m America- —and they can’t afford to lie philanthropists. One manager thought of producing Pinero’s ‘His House in Order’ in Australasia, butI don’t think it would brave a chance of drawing money—it ’is too highclass. Similar conditions of affairs prevail an the English provinces. In France land Germany the theatre vi looked upon to a large extent as an educational medium. Continental theatres, of course, -arc enabled to play high-grade pieces because they are in receipt of subsidies from the municipalities. Artists’; salaries there are not large, -but their engagements are regular -and, I believe, in time they qualify for pensions. -In England at tbe present time things are frightfully overdone, and hundreds of actors and actresses -are on the brink of starvation. Everybody seems to have theMdea that they can act, just as so many peo-ple think they can write and play. When I was a boy all the provincial theatres had stock schools, running • for months each year, where young people could study and where they received a thorough grounding in -dramatic art. But things have changed- ccr-sider-ntoly since that-time. TMn tho actor was -unknown off the stage' and it took about ten years to make bis personality tbto*>u-ghly known over the .footlights. Nowadays every -actor of consequence .-is - known to society, and he is meeting with greater difficulty each year in the .attempt to change - liis personality. The art of acting is becoming lost. The' real art hes in an: actor sinking his individuality iu

aimhis part and being able to go on and play, any part at least respectably—some -parts, of course, suit him better than others. Once anv, -actor’s personality becomes really known he is'placed in-a difficult position, for il is not every man who can lose hisindividuality on tho stage. I attribute my great popularity in Australia —a popularity that never waned—to tho fact that few people ever saw me off the stage. I led -a quite life,, and toeing interested in horticultural pursuits, was seldom away from home. But nowadays it is often the man and not the actor-whom the public laud. This is an age of specialists, and for the man who plays himself, it he is of -pleasing personality and can -got it over the too flights, it pays better to be always himself. 'But, personally j do not call this display of-in-dividuality real acting. It was nay great delight, when travelling through Near Zealand, to play ‘The Dean,’ a fat, pompous old character, in ‘Dandy Dick,’ and in the same week to take the part of a young man, ‘Lord Litterby’ in another play.” “You ask me wilrat are the require ments of a London actor? 11l one sense tho question is difficult to> answer —in -another the answer is sim pie. In London, to ho an actor a fellow requires a fortune behind—.such a fortune that it is really pecuniary support, and lie can comfor-. tably stand with his hack 'againfit- it and'await eventualities. But in Lon don they don’t want actors who 'have worried their way through the theatrical world for a few years. They require malleable amateurs —boys and girls whom they may mould into the particular lines of work for which they are. deemed suitable, and those amateurs can’t ask for _so much money as the older professionals.” “The ‘Village Priest’? Yes, I am rather fond of it,” s-aid Mr Tithe-! radge in conclusion, “but I have no great partiality for any part. I have had a great many parts in my time, but I play ia.ll with my whole spirit and as I think they ought to toe portrayed.”