The record-union., 1897-02-21

lSeS to last the season out, lneTt Dc-
| gins to enter into it the monotony
spoke of just now. We must always
strive to do our best. We must seem 10
rise to each incident with all the fresh
ness of first introduction TO it. There
| is where the dullness of theatrical life
| begins to enter snto stage work, ana
| when you have for a hundred nights,
perhaps, looked surprised when Mr..
Faversham asked you a question, you
might almost be excused if you yawned
when he made the inquiry for the one
| hundred and first time. But to the new
audience it is all unexpected, and. you
must assume as much interest as they
| feel in the query.
Then again if you are in good,
we'll balanced stock company your rel
ative positions in the various plays are
much the same. Miss A. must at
times during five years engagement
get weary of being constantly proposed
to or Tilted by Mr.. B., or Mr.. b. must
become must excusably tired of pro-
posing to or being Tilted by Mss A. six
nights and a matinee, year in and year
out. L have wondered myself that we
have not in sheer desperation defled the
author some night and when l was
proposed 10, instead of consenting to
marry the hero, have fatty refused him
by way of variety. If l had done SO it
might have broken up the play but it
would have been an immense relief, and
Mr.. Miller or Mr.. Faversham would
have, I am sure, applauded my resolu
ton and said Good girl; at least you
have shown US some new way out of
!
nervous desire to say or do something
that you ought not to, to laugh when
at a funeral or the like? Well, that is
the way you feel sometimes during the
long run of play.
There is another point in stage life
that is not pleasant 1t is always said
that the low comedian is sure he would
have been immense as Hamlet, and L
am not altogether convinced that the
feeling is confined to the low comedian.
think we all imagine at times that
we would do better in another line
than that in which we seem TO make our
best successes. | am fond of parts
which call for pathos, ad yet [ have
been most kindly praised at times in
light comedy roles. with which l have
not had 50 much sympathy.
The actress day is brief one, so far
as her freedom for personal enjoyment
of life goes. The popular idea is that
she is at the theater at I:3O o'clock,
leaves just after the audience does, and
has nothing to occupy her until the next
evening at 80 o'clock again. There is
a good deal that is overlooked in this
calculation. The performance is over,
Of he ic ic | IN nj
11:45 before she is ready to go home.
She does not live, the average leading
lady, at the nearest hotel nor are her
brougham and prancing horses waiting
to take her to her apartments.
In my case the proceeding is quite
commonplace and plebeian. My mother
and / walk a few blocks, and our
brougham is the very democratic 'ele-
vated' train to Harlem, where we enjoy
little supper and chat, and then well
come sleep. In the morning | must rise
early if 1 want to have much time to
myself.
Perhaps Mr. Frohman wants to see
me at the theater; we may have rehear-
sails on for some new piece, or for some
new people who are to be tried in a
part We often rehearse and fully pre-
pare a play that is not acted after all,
the current play keeping it off. Then
along comes another manuscript, and we
study it and rehearse it, thinking that
if the current piece drops down in at
tendance this will be a better successor
than the one we first rehearsed, and
which has gone away elsewhere with
another company.
&c lyra al bino n do
if we are running piece successfully,
and evensif / have the afternoon to my
self 1 must hurry from a call, recep-
tion or what not, because, like a school
girl, l must be promptly home before a
certain hour; 1 must dine at and reach
the theater by I for the tedious process
of makeup" and dressing.
On Wednesday and Saturday we have
matinees, 50 / do not leave the theater
between performances. Mr.. Frohman
has arranged room for us at the EN-
pire behind the scenes, and there l dine
after the matinee, take a rest and then
"go on for the evening performance,
reaching home after midnight pretty
well tagged out
You see from all this that the actress
life is not altogether a "fairyland
dream" nor an everlasting enchant-
ment" But it has its delights, its COM
pensations for arduous work, it's sue
cesSes as well as disappointments. l
would not give it up for a great deal.
Ibsen's latest play. John Gabriel
Bcrkman." was performed at Helsing
fors Finland, on January 10th. 1t
was produced simultaneously at the
two principal theaters of the town, the
performance at the one being the Fin
nish, and at the other the Swedish ver-
sion, and it is said to have been re-
ceived enthusiastically at both houses.
The play has been given also al Frank
fort. In Berlin it is in rehearsal at the
Deutsches Theater, and before long the
Royal Theater in Copenhagen will pro-
duce it on most elaborate scale. The
scene painter at the latter theater has
been dispatched to Norway TO make
sketches for the scenery.
New York Journal: The whole
civilized world is at this moment agi
tated by the question of the matinee
kat Men of the Anglo-Saxon race are
trying TO work up their courage to that
Point where they can order poor weak
woman TO take off her hat. Whether
she would do it is a very uncertain
question, but man has not yet reached
the point of telling her TO do SO.
Probably as much genuine indigna-
ton is felt at the theater hat as at the
Armenian outrageS. The man who pays
50 for three hours entertainment a
very sufficient price for the same, is
compelled to content himself with a
back view of the triumph of the millin-