The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1903-02-15
BY NATHANIEL c. FOWLER JR.
ARTICLE NO. 2.


tread it's boards fall into the cellar Of
obscurity.
| Desire to be an actor will not make
an actor of anybody, but it helps. The
closest study and the most severe and
continuous Of training never have
made an actor out of anybody who did
not possess dramatic ability, nor did
| anyone ever become a finished ira
| gedian or a comedian, or successfully
fill any stage part who did not de-
velop his natural ability by the hard
est and most painstaking study.
The actor must be born, but natural
ability in itself will never finish him
for the stage. He must be trained,
and there is no training more difficult,
more wearing and more discoura ging
than that necessary for him who
| would be above the middle rank.
Unless one has decided and observ-
| able histrionic ability in the first place
he cannot hope to be more than an
| Insignificant third or fourth-rate actor.
Nature must give the start. Art must
finish and polish nature.
| The glitter Of the footlights and the
charm and mystery of stageland have
| been the blazing fame which has at
4
The dramatic top is nowhere near
fully occupied, but the road to fame is
& virtual hurdle-race of almost 1nsur-
mountable obstacles, and most Of those
| who attempt to run it perish within
sight of the halfway post, and from
| there on the road is strewn with the
| emaciated bodies of beaten, yet strug-
| Cling aspirants for honor.
Earns His Honors.
The great actor is a great man and
deserves the honors bestowed upon him.
| There are few higher callings. The
| competent actor is one of the gems Of
civilization, and one of the brightest
| stars in progresSion's armament.
The profession of the stage today is
| honorable and thoroughly legitimate.
| The good actor is somewhat of hero,
! but the poor actor is without honor
upon the stage, an outcast behind it,
unknown, uncared for, and poorly sus-
| tanned. His salary is small, often below
the living point; his prospects, really,
| he has none, unless he rise from the
| ranks, but not one poor actor in q
| thousand ever ascends; his movement
| Is almost invariably the other way. The
world cares nothing about the ordinary
| actor. He has no standing on the stage
or off Of it. No ordinary storekeeper
or representative Of almost any calling,
| IL he be decent fellow, has some sort
| of position in the community; the poor
| actor, never But the world cares
everything about the great actor. He
is honOred and entertained, and 5occu-
pies an exalted position. The good
actor is respected, and the good actor
always expects to become a great actor,
and sometimes he becomes one
While training and experience do not
make an actor, few, if any actors spring
| to dramatic success at the start The
good actor does not begin as a poor
actor; he begins as an inexperienced
| actor; he almost always shows at the
beginning the germ of success. There
| is something to him which inspires
hOpe-in his friends, if not on the part
Of the public. 1t is necessary for him
to wait for fame, and to study as hard
as man can study while waiting, and to
bear every hardship and privation
which may lead on to proficiency. He
must anticipate and be willing to ex-
perience DISAGREEMENT and discour-
| agement, to be snubbed and abused,
1 and to be kept in minor roles long after
| he is competent to assume important
ones.
Once in very great while an actor
quickly springs into success, but such
cases are too rare to count.
The good actor and the great actor
generally begin at the bottom, and it
is years before they have sufficiently
| trained their natural ability to appear
as headliners, or at the top of the cast.
l l1o Of toll 1
grow by itself. 1t must be fed and de-
veloped by the closest attention and
hardest application.
The life Of the actor, even of the star.
is devoid of many of the pleasures
[ which seem essential to a comfortable
amount Of human happiness
Years on the Road.
Nearly all actors, stars, leading men
or ordinaries, are obliged to spend from
seven to nine months year upon the
road. Although the old-time stock
company idea is being revived, probably
| go per cent of the so-called~ Iegit-
innate actors play what is known as
"one-n night stands" that is, with the ex-
ception of few weeks, they visit six
towns or cities a week, requiring con-
| slant travel and little opportunity for
rest. They are away from home the
| greater part Of the year, and for about
| one-half of the time, at least, they are
| sleeping in sleeping cars, eating their
| meals anywhere, and living in trunks.
/ The vaudeville artist, SO far as travel
| Is concerned, has the advantage over
the so-called legitimate actor, because
he is generally allowed to play a week
in place, but even he enjoys the COM
forts of home for only a small part
of the year.
The resident stock company actor To-
Gates near his theater and has a perma-
nent home of his own, provided, of
course, he remains with his company.
which comparatively few do for any
great length of time, but his work is
very exacting. During the season he
has little time to himself, and if it
were not for his long summer vacation
he would probably break down after
his third season.
~ Most of the home stock company
actors play in what is known as the
popuIar-prlced houses" with two per-
formanced every week day. afternoon
and evening. Most of these theaters
change the play each week. OCCASION
| ally running the same play for one or
| more weeks, consequently the actor is
| giving substantially his whole time to
acting or rehearsing. During the
| season he has no afternoons or even
ings off except when he is temporari-
| ~ dropped from the cast. From the
opening to the closing of the season
| ne Is probably cast in thirty different
plays, in some of which he has never
1 appeared, and he must rehearse these