The St. Mary banner. (Franklin, Parish of St. Mary, La.) 1889-1931, 1904-08-13
NARYELS OF STAGE REALISM
now TIE SENSES ARE DECEIVED
BY SIMPLE ARTiFICES.
The Stage Storm Produced by Turn
ing Small Wheel-SpIashes of
soapsuds Make the snowflakes-
The Pomp and PanopIy Of War.

III =
the senses can be deceived by simple
artjfices. said a well-knoNn actor to
the writer you should just take a
peep behind the scenes of theatre.
I'm not sure whether 1t is kind to
allow you to take peep, though, for
it is not always a desirable thing to
lose ones illusions; but il you don t
mind I'm sure | don't, and | will guar
antce that. you will find the little Sc
cretS of my trade vastly interesting.
OF course you've often seen the
stage storm, and a most realistic
thing it is, as you know. You see the
cozy room, with its glowing fire and
its general atmosphere of cheeriness
and warmth. made all the more so
by the bowling of the blast outside.
Suddenly the door is flung open, you
catch glimpse Of the arctic world,
and the wind rises to a positive shrek
as the hero or villain of the piece
rushes in, pursued by hurricane Of
snow, and bangs the door in the face
of the baffled storm-fcnd whose
clutches he has just escaped.
1t is all so terribly real that you
insensibly shiver in your warm seat
and draw your coat closer around you,
and yet if you only knew how it was
all produced you would-well, you
would smile. Where, for instance,
does the wind come from with its won
derful crescendo, from the faint sigh
to the shrieks and howls Of a lost
spirit? Let me introduce you to the
genius of the storm, gentleman who
Is busy turning small wheel with
projecting paddles, which, as they re-
yolve, scrape against tightly stretch
ed piece of strong silk. AS he turns
very slowly the wind just sighs gently,
like child in its sleep; faster and
the gale grows. the wind sobs and
means and whistles. until il rises, as
the wheel goes sWiftcr and sWifter,
into tumult of shrieks and hOwls, as
If all the demons of the air were
reused to a frenzy of fury.
The snow? Oh. that's just as sim
pie. The landscape you catch a
shivering glimpse of is made arctic
by plenty Of cottonwood and paste
brush, and the fakes which cover the
hero from head to foot and melt and
trickle under the genial warmth of
the fire are SO many splashes of soap
suds. All! see now you are getting
disillusioned. Pity, isn't it? but still,
always fascinating to find out how
things are done.
AS for the fire which g.ows so
warmly, it is merely so many electric
lights shining through a medium of
ruddy gelatine paper; while the smoke
Dy no means comes from the fire as it
ought to do, but from concealed re-
ccptacle containing a little quicklimc
and hot water. There you have it all
-shrieking wind, drifting snow and
glowing fire realistically produced in
the most absUrdiy simple way.
You can make the lightning ZigZag
IN binding flashes, and the thunder
roll and rattle equally easily. You
can get capital thunder by rolling a
cannon ball or two along the floors
overhead or by shaking piece Of
Sheet iron pretty much as you would
Snake a duster. But bark! there's
tne rain pattering on the roof knew
u would come; and so did a certain
man behind the scenes, who has
poured pound or two of split peas
iato barrel. Inside the barrel you
must know, are several cross pieces OF
sood, against which the peas rattle in
their descent-that's the rain-and
wnen they get to the bottom he turns
ae barrel and the patter-patter con-
unues while wanted.
The hero who plunges with reckless
courage into the sea runs little risk
wen OF wetting. The waves which
Vpen to receive him are painted india
.uoDer, which are made to roll and |
neaYe by very human agency below;
we loan that he sends flying up in
.dscade as he vanishes into the wa
.ery depths is. a handful of common or
'soie salt thrown up from beneath;
snu instead Of disturbing any mer-
.naids In their grottoes he is content
y tumble On a mattress.
men, could anything be more real
nan the scene in which the heroine
.ooAs down from the upper window as
"e so!dIers-her lover, Of course.
smong them-march off to the war?
tramp, tramp, tramp-why, there
must De hundreds of them; and just
,is,en to the cheers of the crowds
Anps the streets and the short, sharp |
aof0s OF command. How It fires your
wood and makes you long to join
them!
wen. come below decks, and I will
.loV you handful of men-half a
sosen or so-"marking time" on a
oose board, clinking pieces of metal
wsether, cheering and shouting words
command to one another, and there
sOu have it all, the passing of |
mighty host, the jingling of accute-
aen.s. the many voiced cheering
'AOSd-all the "pomp and panoply Of |
afs-Tit-Bits.