Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-03-06

The theater is something like food
and sleep-it is in the blood OF the
race, and the man who thinks that
he can get along without 1t entirely 4
mistaken.
He may stay away from the stage fol
as long as he pleases; he will go back
to it again with a sigh of relief. for II
meets a fundamental human need.
The recalcitrant playgoer who has
been away at other things for hall 9
dozen years finds upon his return that
the play is not the thing at all.
It Is the theater itself, with all Its
petty perplexities, its seats, its lights
its crowds. its curtain, its very mock
believe, which enthralls him as it USED
to do.
The lure begins long before he enters
the lobby. It starts with the selection
of the play. Just how one selects 9
play to see is never entirely definite
1t may be that 1t is selected for one.
A friend calls up. How would you
like to go to the So-and-So Theater to-
night?" he inquiries. Usually one would
like very much to go, and says as much
The invitation, freeing one from al
regrets. Is thus the best method Of
beginning to go to the theater.
No matter how bad the play may
turn out to be, it cost nothing, anc
therefore deserves no adverse criticism
The theater becomes the play itself
and often proves the most entertaining
production.
There is a little stir in life caused by
buying tickets for the theater, or In
accepting an invitation to go with a
friend, a Commotiofl scarcely known by
the habitual theatergoer.
The latter is like the man who eats
too much. and who therefore misses
the greatest JOY which hunger knows
keen appetite.
The faded theatrical taste is a sad
thing to acquire, since there is nc
known cure for 1t except to absent
ones self from the scene OF the boards
for many long day, week, month OF
year. The cure may take decade in
some cases.
The man who does not 60 to the
theater much finds his life quite upset
by a sudden decision to 60. He finds
himself recalling it all day long, In
strange wonder at himself and his
temerity.
The fact that he is going to play
again weighs upon him during his
dinner hour. It does not upset his
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tirely conscious of himself.
All the way downtown he is struck
at the novelty which he constitutes In
himself and for himself. He passes
thousands of people. all theater bound
but who get no distinction out OF 1t, for
with them it is the usual thing.
He alone of all that crowd is unique.
X X
The theater becomes real for him
only when he comes into the very block
in which the building Is situated.
The moment he steps UP on its curb
the. whole history Of the drama comes
back In flood Of recollections.
He Is now one with all those millions
upon millions of theatergoers who in
Paris, London, Berlin. New York, and
the other great cities of the world, gave
the stage the prestige which it enjoys.
He recalls the great Moliere, in the
days when actors were refused holy
burial. He becomes one with Shake
speare and his band.
The second he comes into that last
block, with the lights of the lobby
cleaning in his eyes, he is victim to
very old and very delightful tradi-
ton.
He looks around covertly. other peo-
pie are hurrying along, all going to the