"HAMLET,"

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LIV, Issue 175, 23 January 1912, Page 4

"HAMLET,"

SHAKESPEARE'S IMMORTAL TRAGEDY. AND BRITAIN'S SUPREME TRAGEDIAN. The night of January 22, 1912, should, be recorded in the annals of New Plymouth as an occasion of supreme artistic note. Drawn by a great name, knowing Mr. H. B. Irving merely by repute, and honoring him for the art of his distinguished father, people from every part of Taranaki crowded the Theatre Royal, and sat entranced at the unfolding of a tragedy that has no parallel in written English. To essay the task of setting down on paper a conception of "Hamlet," told by eminent people loving their art and living it, is both a pleasure and a pain, for it "is impossible to adequately convey by written word acted and spoken art. One may have memories of a "Hamlet" inimitable in his time, and insensibly, as the son of that great "Hamlet" unfolds the infinite beauties of an incomparable character, one sees in the fine lineaments! of the son, his very gesture, the late Sir Henrv Irving. There is nobility in the use of speech, a passionate yet restrained' illustration of verbal beauties that appeal profoundly. In one's weakness one must turn to the words of Hamlet, for' the ideal of the player, "Suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this observance that you o'er step not the modesty of nature; for everything .* so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end. both at the first and now, was and is as 'twere, to hold the' mirror up to nature." Mr. H. B. Irving "holds the mirror up to nature." If one were asked to put' a finger on the page of "Hamlet" wherein the great tragedian wonderfully excelled, one might say that his art burnt brightest in the "players" scene. There was a world of illustration in hi 9 speech and gesture, so deliberate a showing of the very soul of the Prince of Denmark, that a Shakespeare student merely wondered' if he had read "Hamlet," and, if so,, why he had not understood it. The tragedian held his, audience in the hollow of his hand. Tremendously powerful was he in' the "ghost" scene, illuminating the current of the great story by such art tistic definition as would seem to carry meaning to the mentally blind. We who hare heard the spfeches in "Hamlet" declaimed by barnstormers, prize schoolboys and members of mechanics' insti- , tutes, saw what they meant and how "Hamlet" and the player who was for the time being "Hamlet" understood' them. It is an education in acting to see Mr. Irving pass from deep, despair and gloom to a smilintr interest in the classic trivialities by which Shakespeare: silhouettes his effects. The speculative method adopted by Mr. Irving in- the famous speech, "To be or not to be," seemed somehow to add new meanings, to its philosophy, and as the well conned' and much hackneyed gems fell from lips that are -worthy to speak them, one knew that players had something to do in immortalising play-writers.

There is, if one cares to search for it in "Hnmlet." nearly all the philosophy j of nearly all time* It is human nature [ of many kinds bared. .It j passion, and life and death. It is hatred, ambition, murder and the grave, and. its beauties are so sacred that none hut eminents should ase them. Mr. Irving usps them all. When the last curtain fell it was on a friend who had for soshort a time taught us just a -little of what Shakespeare meant. There will be a glorv to many in recalling from time to time the exact value given to undying phrases and treasured philosophies by their most eminent exponent. One has seen "Ophelia," too. It will be remembered for manv years that Shakespeare made "Ophelia"- mad, and that she was touehincrlv mad, wonderfully mad, most artistically mad on the stage of the New Plymouth Theatre Royal. There is in the- Work of Miss Dorothea Baird a true winsomeness that • is native to her, irrespective of her art. She manages to convey the impression that thjs is her "Ophelia" and that she is indebted to no one for its excellence. There is so much that is piteous in the story of "Ophelia" that pity overflows, when one forgets that the living and the dead girl are but creations of a supreme mind. The woman who clothes "Ophelia" with the garment of life, and the cerements of death has Art: for her sister. .

The "Polonius" of Mr. Arthuy Whitby is remarkably good. It is difficult to believe it could be better done. There is a certain sprightly value given to the Chamberlain's speeches that illustrates' the text vividly and gives point to th# speeches of the wise old man. Mr. Whitby has*» distinctive method quite allur- , ing. His speaking voice is very fin«, and one permits oneself an inartistic thought when "Hamlet's" ready sword makes one more tragedy. Mr. 1 Eric Maxon pl<i'ys "Laertes" ex-' cellently. He is personable, emphatic, and graceful. In his declarations he is weighty aftd convincing, aUd'he is young. " If we read newspapers we shall read OMjch of him in the fntarg. The "Horatio" i>f Mr. Stanley *&owlett was dignified, as becomes the character, and the player gave on many occasions special glimpses of artistic work. Mr. Henry Vibart played "The Ghost" having a remarkably good asset in a . voice possessing special qualities. The booming monotone of his speeches oonveyed the necessary effect, even if the' quality of "hollowness" could not be oh--tained with so fine an organ.

Mr. T. Reynolds was the "First Gravodisrger," and played the part notably. The quaint insistence of the character is deftlv imparted bv this player, whose careful study is most excellent. The "Second Gravedigger" is Mr. C. Arthur, whose infections laugh is a welcome sound in the general song of tragedy. Mr. Prank Tyars plays, "the King" and Mis 3 Helen Rous "the Queen," both most acceptably. Minor parts are in keeping with the general excellence.

The tragedy is mounted with the care and reality for which the Irvin?s. father and son, have always been noted. ,

One hoped that for so srrcat an occasion the programme mi?ht have bep.n a worthy souvenir. Instead, the east was printed on miserable narrow strips of miserable paper. It was the only disappointment—and but a microscopic one —of a unique evening.