The Decadence of the Stage. An Interview with Mr Clement Scott.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 320, 28 November 1888, Page 5

The Decadence of the Stage. An Interview with Mr Clement Scott.

R CI.HMBWT Scot* has ju»t celebrated the completion of th€ twenty - fifth year which he has spent in dramatic criticism. He is undoubtedly one of the first of living authorities upon the modern stage, and we have therefore much satisfaction in printing the folio .vmg report of an interview with so eminent a critic upon the present position and moral tendency of the stage in London. Anything that Mr Clement Scott says on the 3ubject will naturally attract^ universal attention throughout the profession, and we venture to hope that his candid outspoken confession may lead to a free and vigorous expression of the views of other authorities —managerial, critical, etc, — on this important subject. In the course of an interview, the rep it of which we append, Mr Clement Scott, was asked the following question :— * H;is the stage grown more or less useful from a moial and educational point of \iew in -Jo years?' Mr Scott made this notable reply : ' I believe that the advance cf i)ducat : on and the cheapening of literature have clone immense harm to the literary nnri poetical stage. In old dajs people went, to the stage to learn ; now they come to bo amused. The> learned Shakspeare fit Sadler's Wells (Phe'lps) and the Pi iucess'a i Charles Kean) ; they fead it at home now for sixpence. The taste for elevated and elevating stage wo k was never low as mow. Its censnrers were ne\er before so pitiless, to scathing, or so irreverent. The niost conscientious- manager must tiemble when ho puts the honest labour of mouths of toil and study before the stalls w ho sneer und the pit that howls at- an instant's error, f wish I could see audiences more demoted to the art, more earne«t. more tolerant, and less obstructive.' Mr Clement Scott it> no Puritan. He is a man of the world, with a high conception of the functions of a theatrical critic. In reply to a question as to the dramatic j criticism of an age which has witnessed such a depravation of the public taste, he said :—: — * I believe it to be an honestly uennine expression of individual opinion, »••<! that the reviews of stage plays are in the hands of men absolutely incapable of an uneenerous thought, or a discreditable uctlon. They may be right and they may be wrong, bub their hearts are open find their hands are clean. ' We asked Mr Scott a searching question i as to whether he considered the stage a place where women could remain moral and respectable, and what advice he wou'd give young ladies who wished to go upon the stage. This was his reply : - j *My advice would be, '"For heaven's ■sake pause !" There is always an opening on the «tage for real talent, true genius ; but the talent and genius of stage a-pirsnts must not be taken at their own estimate. There are hundreds and thousnnds of pure, . moral, and respectable women on the stage, < but the atmosphere of the theatre is tr\ ing to the healthy moral constitution. A woman not born and bred in the profession, avowedly of a theatrical stock, must, in a certain sense, lose her self-respect and encounter familiarities, temptation?, and -outlets for the disp'ay of natural vanity Jxoin which good women should be pafeguarded. A woman may take a he-ider into a whirlpool and bo miraculously faaved — but then she may be drowned. If a girl knows how to take care of herself she can go cny where ; but I should be sorry to expose modesty to the chock of that worst kind of temptation— a frivolouadisregard of womanly purity. One out of a hundred may be safe, but even she must hear thing? that she had better not listen to and witness things that she had better not see. In every elas-* of life women are exposed to dangers and temptations ; but far more in the theatie than elsewhere. All honour and praise to them when thej bra^c them out.' • Mr nemenfc Scott, it will be »een. is quite as candid a« Mr Holling-head i;i admitting the worst that t-he Puritans allege aeainsb ; the theatre. 'One oat of a hundred may j be safe :' ' the atmosphere of the thcati ois frying to the healthy moral constitution.' This is the verdict of the editor o* the 'Theatre, and the dramatic critic -w ho for 2."> yen re has made it his professional b«sin»Vrf to watch the development, of tho cnodewj drama. OF the stage itself Mr Clement Scott is an enthusiast. He s vk: — ' F believe thoi'&ughly in its humanising possibilities. lam of the opinion that halt the wretchedness and sorrow that we see, around us could be soouhecl by the touch of nature, by musi: ; by sweetness, and light. Nb audience that I have ever come across jv incapable of tine feeling. Deep in the ihtiebt, Wort i* some pure corner. If t rouid have my way J would try the effrct ti taming our savages wifcb beautiful music, j aomeij language, and gentle rhoughts.' nuppo&iusr you had the supreme control iver the Engl sh theatre?, would you "top uich sh<»ws astheOaietyghes itaeustr>nieib? i Pr. to put that question in another form, I ioyou think thedisplay of woman's charmta* burlesque theatres likely to have a healthy influence on public morals ? * Surely it ie anfair to select the Gaiety as the arch type ?f a reprehensible theatre. The Gaiety entertainment cf to-day is in no sense urorse than th# Lyceum extravaganzas of \ fche days of Planche and Madame Vestria j in 1848. The music and worda, at any rate,, ! are p«re. I believe excitablej sensuous music that fires the brain and warms the blood to be infinitely more demoralising fchen the senseless ro«r& of undraped girls with their silly faces and eternal googe step. If I wanted to disgust a boy with all that is unennobling and uninteresting in woman, I woulf 1 take him behind the scenes. It would soon cure him. When husbands and fathersinduce their wivesand daughters j •bo <li'eg9 decently in the stalls, we shall have no taste for nakedness on the stage. A decent audujnee results in a decent entertainmen t. * Considering what Mi- Scott/ had just told us concerning the degradation of the public taste which has gone on side by side with the spread of education and the increared '; love of literature, this dictum seeme to imply that there is very little hope for improvement. • We append the report of the rest of the interview without further comment. 'And not killed yel?' remarked one of our representatives to Mr Scott as he entered hie charminsr little • den ' overlooking Lincoln's-inn -Fields. *So ', not dead yet, not even aweary,' replied the well-known critic, emergintr from behind ibe escritoire at which he was writing. Cndeed, M»* ricott looked a? fiesh a* ?n athlete i« tiptop trainiue, a coraparson Wiggesl,ed by D;*> ejbflrtliujr blue and black blazer which he was wearing. 1 say gtai'fcltnjr (writes our conmbutgi) becauce one is accustomed at tireb nights to see Mr Scott enveloped (n the mystic* folds of a -ombre cape. He dfseciAj«||-^iimself, adjusts his stall, allows l^^^^Hj^y .glance round the auclitori^^^^^^B^

the footlights, and holds himself aloof from human intercourse until the curtain drops. ' I am called morose,' mused the critic, ' because T decline to join in the chatter of the Jtanucrs, I assure you J am the least morose of men, but when I go to a theatre I go to work, and T do not care to have my attention distracted by irrcs-ponsiWo jabber.' 'It is always said that actors and actresses are nervous on a first night. Does a veteran critic sutler fiom the same emotion, Mr Scott?' 'They are no' more nervous than I. let me afrgure you. "Remember that when I leave the theatre at half- past 15 o'clock I have to go straight to my office »nd write a column or a column and a half that is, frcin two thousand to thrte thousand words —in on hour and a half or two hours, knowing full well that what 1 uiite will be read by a million {.tople. lam nervous lesb my judgment should fail me. and anxious that my verdict should be a just one. Of eourso it is human to err, but 1 try to err as seldom and as slightly as possible. Soiv.o people think that I am supplied with plots and details, or that I write half of what appears beforehand ; but that is quite a mistake. 1 decline all offers for dress rehearsal, and prefer to write my articles from the first impression. 1 always walk from the theatre, and frame what 1 mt end to soy in my mind, and, if possible, I always construct the first sentence, which is often a stumbling block.' * Do you rind the strain very heavy ?' ' During the last few years the number of theatres has increased enormously, and the strain has become heavier. A few weeks ago I sat through 14 performances in six days. Not bad, I think you will admit ?' ' That includes matinees V *Of course. The matinee is the ciitic's curse and the manager's good genius. That astute gentleman invites you to matinee after matinee. In a year you may rind a dozen pieces that are woith potting in the evening bill. They are manager's gains. The trial costs him nothing, and he may turn up a trump. The critic is the sufferer. His paper is competing with other papers ; the piece may be good, therefore hu cannot afford to neglect it. Only a general boycott by the papers could stop the evil. ' 'If it is not too personal a matter, I should like to ask how an actor bears with you if you have sated him — "slated," I believe, is the right tern.. Ho, of course, is perfectly aware that you are the writer of the article.' 'It passes over,' replied the critic, 'if he is a sensible man. t have only done my duty to the public, and tv them alone am responsible for my opinion. Of course the relations between an actor and a critic must necessarily be sometimes strained if both happen to belong to the iarae club ; bub surely it. is no worse than the case of the barristers who tight in court and are friendly ifter. I should like, by the way, to say that I do not style myself a critic in the pedantic sense of the word. I approach a new play aa a correspondent would who is 3ent to give a description of a great function. 1 certainly endeavour to ipportion praise and blame, but I also try to ix'ne a vivid description of the play, »a photographic as? 1 can make it.' 1 You are also a playwright, Mr Scott ? ' 1 Yes ; but I have determined to give up ny efforts in that direction. lam misunder•to ti, and it is almost impossible tocomniii" the critic and the playwright without >ne*& motives beingopen to misconstruction.' Then Mr Scott opened a heavy oaken % abiner. which stood between the windows, md produced from its dark interior a charming little silrcr casket, which -craft presented to him as * small tribute by tlu London managers on attaining the silyet wedding of Mr Scott and the English stage. Before continuing the conversation he took me into a second little den which contained tone of theatrical literature, including many dusty volumes of the ' Era, 1 which Mr Scott said with a sigh constituted the only history of the modern stage that we possessed. • Some day I may write one myeclf, but it is a difficult task. Here, you see, are some of the materials,' and tie opened a glass case and showed me little wood boxes full of the correspondence oi years witli the most prominent theatrical lights of the stage. ' 1 began to work for the theatre 25 years ago, 1 continued Mr Scott, as we returned to his panctum, • and here,' showing me a sheet of blue paper stating that he was the representative of the ' Sunday Times,' are my credentials. In those days there was a free list, on which we were all placed. Now such lists do not exist, tickets fo admission being sent as occasion calls. In those days no one cared for the theatre, and the notices were kept \ery short. J joined the staff of the ' Telegraph ' in 1869. lt> is Mr Levy who really ought to be thanked for the exhaustive tranner in which the drama is now treated by the press He intioduced the idea into the ' Telegraph,' and the other dailies were compelled to follow. Then fame the Bancrofts, who raised the prices, mounted their plays sumptuously and wi|»h taste. The theatre became fashionable, and was taken up by society, fsrid n- w it fiouri&ho." 'By that am 1 to uuder>taml that the dram?* depends upon ths pationngo of society Y 'By no means?. Fociety <£u\e the -t go a hand when it wanted it, but now the -ta«ie is well able to help iUolf.' • A« a i-riM." of 2o years" ->tui.diii£. with a ereal knowledge of the manage! ial aspect of the theatio. perhaps you could tell me •why good ]>H', s are so ditKcu tto <iet. One often hears that the cruel manager never opens the mm.ut-cripts which arc submitted to him. Can t/>is be true V* '(.t od plav.-j aie sodiiiicult to yet beiausc they are so ditfit ull to write. They require a verj combination of talent i:.d experience. 1 don't think managers arc foo s, and managers would be fouls t. they refused to e»rcise the oidm«ry te*v* for the discoviy vi gold mines. The aimiu ur who has wut'an a play ir- the \auie.-t -md most egulis'icJil of' mentals He i- she worry of im life. I oonld till a \olumt with anecdote of these coxcombs who grovel to? get si "noti/i-,'' aid then insinuate '* motive vljen the truth is told. They are mere apprentices, and they how' because they are not master masons." ' Mj*y T ask you to an^wei a union discussed quesrion ? Ji> it possible f r a powerful o irii*. representing a powerful organ with *' the largest ohculntn.n in the world, '' Lo damn a good play oi save a bad ono V ' Absolutely m.poseible. The public decides the fortunes of a play, not the ut ii ic. The critic has the first woi d,"and if he knows his business anticipates the public veidict, thai is all. An enthusiastic notice ; often adds to the fortune of o pay if it be I cordial!*- endorsed by the public, but often a scathing and indignant protect agaiiifcfc what is unworthy in art and disgusting in taste secures a success by curiosity.' ' ])o you never receive threatening letteis, ! or are you bored by the thunder of anonymity ?' 'I receive scurrilous, signed letters, and filthy anonymous letters by the hundred. I have been accused of every known form of crime in the exercise of a most arduouß and disagreeable duty. But 1 console myself with the reflection that if there were one^ word qt trjith fn, these spiteful and envious utterances J s)h,6ysld not have earned the valuable confidence of my employer, lor retained my post for 25 hour", I have '• Lwithstood the storm for 25 years.'