STAGE-STRUCK- GIRLS.

NZ Truth, Issue 135, 18 January 1908, Page 7

STAGE-STRUCK- GIRLS.

FAIRIES WITH THE FOOTLIGHT FEVER. Retired Actress Gives Some Sage Advice. NO. 8.

The stage to-day does not afford the individual the opportunities of yesterday. True, we hftve new stars made every season, but it is m a diSerent. ■ way to the olden times. Some of our most prominent stars were made iquite suddenly, and not really knowing how or why. Ethel Barrymore, for instance, wac forced to become a star. Charles Frohman sent a company to Boston playing "His Excellency the Governor," if memory serves me rightly, Amd the business manager, desirous' of playing a successful engagement. was racking his brains for advertising the company. He visited the newspaper offices, and when asked who he had m the company, among other names he gave Miss Barrymore. Earh and every newspaper man asked for a picture of Miss Barrymore to run wiih the notices-, ■ and when Mr Weaver, who, I believe was' the Frohman representative, saw this- tendency to boom the delightful Ethel Barrymore he worked it tVjr-.""hly. And hence Mr Frohman's determination to make her a star. And shp. is a welcome -addition to. the long list. * * ■ • THE INDIVIDUAL DWARFED. In America the individual has always. been, more strikingly great than m England. For- the reason- it is only nr-ently that the productions m t %l 's country have benn of snrli sti,""»'-dous' irr> porta nrQ,. as. to "dwarf the .individual. Nat -Goodwin, by bis own acknowledgment, . appeared ( as

Bottom m a production of "A Midsummer Night's Dream, which cost 02,000 dollars. In the opinion of I many, the withdrawal "of Goodwin's vehic' was due to the fact thf ' the note omedian was lost m tho ...teatness and magnitude of his surroundings, as was the great author. There was too much to fill the eye— too much glamor, too 'much show. Art m the mere man was too delicate to predominate. Commercialism regulates the stage to-day far too strongly. m . m ■■ ART SUBC DINATED. Vnnt mighty i' r consideration, which is a great .ndrance to art, is the factor vvhl:ii blocks the i-ndi- . vidua!. In the old days, if one could act, there was something to act at, is it were. Hence our Booth, Bar-fn-ett, McCollough-, Salvini, Irving, Charlotte Cuphmrn, Lu^^e Weston, \Tarv Anderson and others. , One - could act on an empty stage "1 no embellishment m those days and be discovered. But it is very different to-day. Then every man , did bis own booking ; he was able to produce an attraction, if he had it. Every manager went to New York and did tbe best he could for himself. Now it .is m the 'bonds ' of a few. Everything '. is syn-" 2t©d. The trust" re 'Hes and directs, ana you go when you are told to go. With all due „;)_ct' to the trust, however, conditions have improved in' many respects. It is a great comner i--l industry today, on a business basis, and things were never done so well as regards production, embielli__ .. t, etc.; but as to the merit of the art -of acting —No. And one of the fhi f reasons is, anybody and everybody adopts the stage nowadays : whereas m ,times past the natural prejudice kent many froiii adopting i the profossirn. Nov, the stage-struck of one c-Lss with means, who feels an inclination to be an actor or v actress, attends a sci oj& of acting— those atrocious institutions which turn out tremendous batches' to flood tbe prof*-'- s"' on with every year— schools conducted, m the maioritv of cases, by failures of the . stage, and who hang out a si^-n, easily interpreted -'ithout the "i.i of a dictionary, "Enter, and I will •show you how to succeed with the methods by which I have failed." Th"-? teachers of elocution are accountable for driving ma^v yoimg pc>?lo to their undoing by telling them they have talent m order to get fees from them. Th'"! the next steD comes, when +^9 . manap-T allows them to buy a place m bis company. Far too many positions are filled to-day by roung women who are willing to play parts - and dress m magnificent stylp, and receive the groat sum of nothing for their services. Thus manv y an actr^-s is deprived of -.making a li'-in?, those who are actresses -ri^h-'ly called, and are. compelled to make a living : at their profession— the only means th^y know of earning a Jiv-eJihcod. Mv first expedience of trying to obtain an emraflrement was vipute conducive to rriving me a full rea-Ksation of conditions as they are. » * « BUYING PLACES. Richard Mansfield was playing an engagement at the old Baldwin, a^d I was heart and soul bent •on seeing this great man, and getting m his company somehow. I had made an auspicious debut, and thought all I had to do was to go right ahead and, become placed where I chose. If you' can reach these high and mighties" of the stage, you may be placed or not, just as the conditions shape themselves. A prominent friend sought out Mansfield to tell him of the wonderful talents displayed m amateur society affairs, by a young girl who was most desirous of adopting the stage as a profession, and requested the great actor to see this wonder— myself. Oh, it was entirely out of the nuestion. M-n^ld was just re"overin«r, he explained, from a tirade of abuse administered by an irate father, whose dauerhter— a Sout' K "r n society belle— Mansfield had discharged, as, aftp'; having given her an m his company, he had found her incompetent. He had, therefore, solemnl-" 7 promised bimwlf to ,■ never ,aram start young society women on a career. The friend arp-npd and pleaded, seemingly to no avail. * * • ENGAGED BY MANSFIELD. Finally, after an hour's talk on other matters, the great Mansfield asked how old the girl was,, the color of her eyes, hair, her height and weight, and said, "I'll engage her. Bring her here to-morrow morning at ten o'clock, and 1 can tell if she is as intelligent as you claim, after a few minutes' conversation with her, whether she will .make an actress or not. You can tell her, I think it is safe to say, she,, is engaged." .-. Can ybu see the state of ecstasy I was m when this friend arrived at my home and told me /the news. Why, there was nothing m it. I was made —I was already great, I've had lots of those feelings— and oh, what bad, hard falls after ! Well, promptly at ten o'clock the next morning we were m the reception-room of the Palace Hotel. Cards were despatched m haste to the actor's room, and my impatience to clinch that engagement was indescribable. The boy returned with word from Mrs Mansfield that her husband was downstairs at breakfast, and that he left word he would see the party as soon as he was finished. Patiently we were awaiting i his august presence, when his private secretary' came into the room seeking us, with the information that Mr i Mansfield was indisposed, and would ; not keep the enaa-rement. i i His bald statement seemed to conj flict with the word we bad just re- ; ceived from, the ecntleman m the | breakfast-room, and tbe secretary j hurried off to see bis lordship. He I returned almost immediately, savin"-, | "Mr iVansryid requests that the; I younir lady should go to -tho -Baldwin j 'Theater-, where reh^orsnl <s cMlr-d for ' .10 .■: > n." . " ell, of ro-r'e. T thrombi T [ woi'l-' be riven a. Vf\vi to "-ad, -And couldn't i'.i.-t (here quickly i-noiii'li lo '

inhale the air back of the scenes. I sal and sat, and sat m the cold, | draughty, passageway leading to the stage. Finally, at twelve o'clock, Mr Mansfield entered. i\iy waiting was rewarded ; he had come at last. The secretary tooic me over to the celebrity. 1 was introduced td the I side of Mr Mansfield's head. He nev- ! er turned to look at me, simply raised his hat, and said, "You wish to i go on the stage, Mr So-ahd-So tells me. Yes, I will take you m my company, but all I can do' is to pay your railroad fare. Can you 'get along ?" 7 FOND HOPE BLASTED. I 'No, Mr Mansfield," I replied, "I can act, and, not to go with so great a personage as yourself would I think of going without remuneration." The great man then turned and smiled upon me, made some pretty little speech about my compliment, and said, "Well, think it over." Arid I realised the interview was- at an end. I never knew just how I did get out of that old Baldwin. If he had looked at me and said, "Oh, no, your eyes are not brown, they're green ; or, why don't you stand five feet four— you're a six-footer, you won:t do to be an actress," I could have taken the blow easier." Three days I spent m my room weeping— oh, such copious weeps. Finally, when I recovered from the blow and got back on earth, I wrote him, and put this ponderous question before him— "What, if you are not travelling, and have no railroad fare to pay for me, what arrangement then could you make with mc?" The next| day's mail brought an answer, m which he offered me a fairly eood ' living salary for a beginner, and ordered me to report for rehearsal at the Garrick Theatre, New York, within the next six weeks. I never joined bis company, however, as the week after mv closing with bim, I went out. with an inferior company to play some of the smaller towns, and the starve -manage! was for siv vp!>rs Mrms^eld's *+M?e director, and his re"itel of the many tbines 1 sboid have to contend y/ith, owing to the artist's eccentricity of genius, convinced 'me I was too green to take a chance w;-»y of? m New York. Mary Manning, m the S.F. "Bulletin. "