MISS BATEMAN

Southland Times, Issue 20080, 18 January 1927, Page 6

MISS BATEMAN

CHARMING PERSONALITY INTIMATE CHAT WITH TIMES REPORTER DELIGHTED WITH NEW ZEALAND “I love sunshine and gardens!” Miss Zillah Bateman, who appeared in ‘The Unfair Sex,” told a representative of the Southland Times this when visited yesterday afternoon. And certainly she is a child of the sun with her golden hair and her deep blue eyes, her fresh complexion, unspoiled by make-up, and her sparkling vivacious manner. She is brimming with the freshness and joy of living, and her unbounded energy shows itself in every movement of her hands, and in every turn of her sliffi body. “Some day I’ll return to England to rest, and then, when I have plenty of time. I shall write my impressions of my tour,” she continued. “Over two years ago we left England and have since been touring South Africa and Australia. In November we came to New* Zealand and played first in Wellington. "What a beautiful country this is!” Miss Bateman said. “We’ve motored most of the time from one place to another, and I’ve been enchanted by every mile of country we’ve passed through. I liked especially the run from Christchurch to Dunedin, and my first glimpse of Dunedin, as I saw it from the hills, I'll never forget. Everything in New’ Zealand is so absolutely English; perhaps that is why it makes such a great appeal to me. The outlook of the people, and the language they speak, marks the Dominion as the one most closely akin in thought and word to the Mother Country. I could never long for England while I lived in New Zealand.” Miss Bateman’s life has been an eventful one, and one upon which the fickle Goddess of Fortune has ever smiled. In 1911 she went to Germany to finish her education and study music and dramatic art at the Conservatorium. She left that country the day before war was declared. On her return to England she did relief work and sang to the soldiers in hospital. “War-time in England was certainly a time of horror,” Miss Bateman replied, in answer to a question, “but I'm very thankful now, that I was old enough to understand it, and that I was able to do even a little to help the wounded men.” Miss Bateman had been singing but a short time in London, w r hen she received her first great opportunity, that of singing at a Halle concert under M. Henri Verbrugghen. She afterwards sang at several orchestral concerts in England and Scotland. She next did musical comedy, and then grand opera. “But I’ve been very fortunate.” she admitted, “I’ve had no spade work to do at all. From the first I took leading parts in musical comedy, chiefly because of my voice, which had been well trained at the Conservatorium in Germany. So I cannot tell you what it feels like to begin at the bottom of the ladder and work to the top, and perhaps I’ve missed something of the joy of hard-earned success.” Easy success, however, has in no way spoiled her charming nature, and one felt that no matter how many difficulties had been ranged in her path, her joyous nature would have surmounted them all. While Miss Bateman had been talking to me of her career it was noticeable that once or twice she glanced with a little worried frown at her wrist watch and the interviewer fearing that the chat was to be cut short plunged hurriedly on, asking her to tell something of the plays with which she has been touring Australia and New Zealand. In Australia, she explained, she played in “The Sport of Kings,” which ran for nine weeks in Melbourne. ‘The Unfair Sex” and “Eliza Chines’Td Stay” have been played in all towns in New Zealand, and everywhere have been enthusiastically received. The company returns to Melbourne in April, and opens its season with ‘The Unfair Sex.” Miss Bateman is eagerly looking forward to her return to New Zealand with the play “Outward Bound.” Speaking of this play, of which so much has been heard, she explained that it was extremely mystical, all the characters in it being represented as dead. “Nevertheless,” she added, “it is full of humour. It is the most beautiful, most gripping play I have ever seen. It created quite a sensation in London, and was the subject of a leading article in the London Times. “What will you do when you return to England?” she was asked. “First I shall rest,” and Miss Bateman smiled happily, “and then while I’m resting I shall write. I have always had a very great ambition, a craving almost, to express myself in written words, and some day, I earnestly hope, I shall have an opportunity of doing so. My life has been so very interesting that I shall have no difficulty in gaining material for my diary. I have a sister who writes. She was, before the war, special foreign correspondent for the New York Herald, writing under the nom de plume of Lily White. She had many thrilling adventures in Hungary and other countries.

“And now I really must go,” she said laughingly. Miss Bateman so completely fills her minutes that her stealthy glance at the clock which ticked so noisily on the mantelpiece was almost unnoticed. Miss Bateman explained that she simply had to go to the theatre and see that the frocks were all in readiness for the evening performance, but there was still time to

squeeze in a question about her alluring hair which she wears long and loosely coiled over each ear. In answer to the direct question, “Didn’t you ever want to cut your hair?” she

paused, and with almost a sigh, said: “Yes, I did,” and then she laughed, “quite often, but I was never allowed to do it. It is just as well that I have long hair, all the same,

otherwise I’d have to wear a wig in several of my parts, and I’d hate that. It is really better for actresses to keep their hair long, because with the shingle they can only portray one type. I think that long hair will eventually return to fashion, but even if this is not the case, perhaps I shall cut mine when I’m old and grey,” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared round the corner of the stairs.

Anyone would have smiled at that “old and grey,” finding it an impossible thought that it should ever be applied to this charmingly youthful person upon whom the gods gazed so kindly. Time dogged her footsteps, but Time would never overtake her!