AUCTION AT OLD EMPIRE

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 2, 24 March 1927, Page 2

AUCTION AT OLD EMPIRE

PROPERTIES UNDER HAMMER Sentiment at the doomed Empire Theatre in Leicester Square was submerged last month by a wave of commercialism. The last scenes in the famous theatre, previous to its demolition, were being enacted; furnishings, w’ardrobes, stage properties—all bad been ticketed in lots, and unemotional bidders, cautiously making advances principally in single shillings, were dispersing the setting of many a glittering production. in contrast to the resplendent silk hat and evening gown of sentiment which collected at the concluding theatrical performance in the theatre, a few nights ago, the spirit of commerce (writes a "Daily Chronicle” representative) was notably undistinguished. The auctioneer’s rostrum was placed just in front of the band pit, and a space had been cleared around it in the stalls to permit the closer concentration of buyers, some of whom, however, elected to 101 l in the plush fauteuil seats further back. Yellow-shaded lamps threw a restrained light over the scene, and the auctioneer’s hammer fell with funereal finality. When someone speculatively tested a set of tubular bells at the side, it sounded like the death-knell of the old theatre —there was so mournful a note in the unexpected sounds. In the upper circle Hanging on lines as in a "junk” shop, were costumes that had graced sprightly ballets; and, behind the fireproof curtain, with its legend ’“For thine especial safety,” hiding the stage was as curious a collection of properties (thick with dust) as ever straddled the nightmare of a general dealer.