Annotations of Annabel

Radio Record, Volume II, Issue 34, 8 March 1929, Page 13

Annotations of Annabel

DEAREST: . Wellington is exulting in season ‘of modern drama, presented by the incomparable Vanbrugh Boucicault pair of artists and lesser dramatic stars of their constellation. Each night stalls, circle and gallery bulge with hot and enthusiastic habitues, causing regretful backward glance at apathetic audiences accorded Mr. Allan Wilkie’s magnificent courage in bringing Shakespeare to our doors. "()\N Approval" met with favour, except with conservative minority which turned doubtful eye and gar upon that blend of frothy diaI¥gue, improbable situation, and verbai dash and daring that go to make a Lonsdale play. Chic and slick Miss Vanbrugh appears as a determined mondaine who, like many another, desires to take no matrimonial risks; her vitality miraculous, movement and posture swift and sure, and enunciation so delightful in accent and audibility that one sighs to remember how our poor beautiful language is mangled by those who ought to kaos better, In portrayal of that supreme egoist and amusing bounder the Duke of Bristol, another facet of Mr. Dion Boucicault’s many-sided adaptability delights his admirers; while the two remaining actors of the quartet are excellent as a nice girl and a still nicer man, the latter so divine in self-abnegation that fain ould he have been annexed by a Jarge section of his feminine audience. BROADCAST music of delightful quality, rendered by Mr. Harison Cook and others of musicianly attainment, delighted the crowd who responded to generous and charming entertainment yr >vided for patrons at the opening of new D.LC, premises in the Capital City. The last word in modernity is the new emporium, with its escalator which ‘without haste and without pai.se"’ conveys freight of slightly nervous humanity to desired bourne, At first a curious sensation, this stepping heavenward willy-nilly, and of a composite thrill suggestive of ’Appy ’Ampstead, P. &,O. Liner, and Underground at rush your. After a moment of seemingly éternal motion, one steps out on velvet of new and lovely carpets which cover the floors of the establishment, and admires artistic taste of manufactured beauty of tulips and hydrangeas that provide great splashes of colour. "‘Helen, do look at the baby," said one pretty schoolgirl to another; and there in a case displaying fluttering babelet garments of le dernier cri, coyly reposed a waxen infant, very plump and

-~" fascinating, upon a bed, not of roses, but of lilac, with, for a background, sheaves of the lovely lavender blooms anent which Walt Whitman wrote a few melodious verses. "yiLL you walk into my parlour?" beckoned beauty parlour with rose-coloured curtains of velour and manifold modern appliances; my admiration concentrating upon cunning contrivance for reducing the too, too solid flesh that refuses to melt even in this torrid season. A few treatments, it appears, the perseverance of the busy bee, and we shall all be slim as Undine, So courage, mes enfants, and go on_ striving, as Napoleon once said in a different connection, "HE goods" are lavish and lovely, but there was no time for more than a glance at display of crystal that flashed appeal to weak woman; sprays of apple-blossom fashioned of pink mother-o’-pearl; humble ashtrays transformed by magic of blue butterflies’ wings; china plates with lordly parrots and flaunting flowers like a modern impressionistic poem, all dots and dashes. And there were glimpses of shoes of rose and gold to suit Oriental taste and opulent purse; and a gown of green with a strap of leaves suggestive of the Garden of Eden, and calculated to move the heart of most adamantine Adam. Richard, unwilling escort in this orgy of femininity, with his usual good taste admired the gowns of velvet, in black and brown, worn by courteous assistants, very dignified and attractive. FROM the heat and glare we escape to the Quay, comparatively deserted after reek and roar of the day; and stroil homeward under a mackerel sky to China tea on suburban baleony, from its height reflecting how our young Dominion foots it blithely in the march of progress, its small towns of a decade ago putting on brave air of cities. Your

ANNABEL

LEE