New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1920-07-04

@ Village Follies" may swing
{ through its two hours of
fun and music, the touching moments
through which 1t went in the making
are stamped too wildly upon the mind
of one who saw the production, from
the first day of its "try-outs" until
now, when the final eliminatons are
being made, to be forgotten.
This great gathering of young men
and young women is taken only as an
example of the-shall we say tragedy?
of the procedure. Broadway as long
as 1t has been the great flaming way
where stars are made and ambitions
are realized no doubt has been the
scene of just such grueling times.
Perhaps it is the way of the theatrical
profession generally. But how little
we know Of the hopes that lie crushed
from day to day as pretty girls and
aspiring young men enter the try
OUT performance. to return as soon
as their bit is shown wearing frowns.
and sometimes brushing tears OF dis
couragement and disappointment from
their cheeks
Is it any wonder that John Murray
Anderson, the young producer who pro-
noted the original "Greenwich Village
Follies" and the present Broadway pro-
duction, whats in Name" takes
each and every young person to one
side at some time through their initial
showings, whether he sees in them
material worth using in his show or
not, and talks with them confidentially.
advising them to have heart and not to
lose their nerve?
In the first days of the preliminary
gatherings of the actors who are to
take part in the production of his
second version of the "Greenwich Vii
lage follies" there were more than five
hundred men and women-and some
younger-who attended the free for
all" showings. Girls with their mothers
as escorts, handbags filled with their
gaudy little costumes, eyes weary from
long rehearsals in small West Side
boarding house rooms, street attire
shabby in many instances, went to the
theater where the first showings were
to be made. Young men, long Of the
opinion that some day they would see
their names in brilliant electric lights
in the Forties, their last cent spent for
a SHINE and press and clean collar,
gathered there too. And with each
succeeding "try-out" day the numbers
decreased. Until this week, when the
last few final showings are made. in
which Mr.. Anderson determines finally
whether or not they are to see their
names included in the cast of the forth
coming production. there are left per-
haps seventy-five Out of these TWEEN
ty, or a few more perhaps, will be
withdrawn. And there is the task that
requires the utmost in tact to per-
form.
Somehow" Mr.. Anderson said as he
leaped from the ill-set stage at the
Lyric Theater, where the final try
outs were being carried forth, IT feel
sometimes as If I'd rather not be in
this business at all than to have to tell
that little girl up there singing now
that she won't do"
She was pretty child Only child.
Perhaps seventeen. Her proud mother
stood at one side of the stage, in a
shadow, her hands waving with the
swing of the music. The girl, small
brunette, was singing, for the last
time, although she hadn't the SLIGHTEST
idea this was the case, song she had
sung now eight different times, at as
many different showings, for Mr.. An
derson. Each time he had believed
there might be some way in which he
could use her. Her voice wasn't the
best, and she was very young. Still
there was her mother, and he had seen
on one occasion that a solitary 81 bill
was all that remained in her tiny purse