_The Stage in the United States.--The "Stars."--French Plays.
Mr. Augustin Daly's Company.--The American Public.--The
Theatres.--Detailed Programmes.--A Regrettable Omission._
The American stage boasts some excellent actors; but it owes its
prestige rather to the talent of a few brilliant individualities than to
distinction of _ensemble_.
The plays are written for certain actors, and the secondary parts are
made to serve the purpose of throwing up the "star." This is why the
French plays that are transplanted to the stage of America generally
fail. I saw one very striking proof of this in New York. Mr. Abbey, the
indefatigable _impresario_, director of Wallack's Theatre, brought out
_L'Abbe Constantin_. The principal _role_ was entrusted to Mr. John
Gilbert, a veteran of the American stage. Certainly M. Got himself could
not have played the part of the good old priest with more simplicity,
tenderness, or pathos; but this was not enough in a piece which demands
at least half a dozen actors of talent, and the play was a complete
failure.
French plays are written, not for "stars," but for whole companies of
actors. The author knows that such and such an actor will play the
lover, that certain others will take the _roles_ of the father, the
prosaic notary, the brilliant officer, the valet; that certain actresses
will create the parts of the _coquette_, the _ingenue_, the _soubrette_,
the _duenna_. He knows that the director will only entrust the members
of his company with such parts as are well within their province. The
translator of these plays runs his bark with a light heart towards the
rocks of failure. Sometimes he does worse than translate--he adapts. A
study of French manners is transferred to America with American
personages. The play becomes incomprehensible, unreal, and it is not the
acting of a "star" that can redeem or save it.
American theatres are not subventioned by the State, and private
enterprise can scarcely afford to give the public the luxury of a whole
company of talent. The "star" is usually his or her own manager, draws
the public, and realises the profits. The _repertoire_ consists of two
or three plays, which are performed before a New York audience for a
month or two, and then taken around to the chief cities of the States.
This is why one sees fresh companies nearly every week in half the
theatres. To-day a drama, next week a comedy, opera-bouffe the week
after. Sometimes the change is still more brusque. Mr. Irving and Miss
Terry gave a series of performances at the "Star" Theatre, New York,
during the month of March last. On their departure, they were succeeded
by a troupe of performing monkeys. The theatre was just as likely to
have been hired by travelling revivalists.
There is but one _company_ of actors in America, and that is Mr.
Augustin Daly's excellent company of comedians. I have seen comedies
played with much _ensemble_ at the Union Square, Madison Square, and
Lyceum theatres, in New York; but Mr. Daly's picked company is
incomparably superior to any other to be seen in America, or, for that
matter, in England either, if one excepts the admirably even opera
company of the Savoy. Mr. John Drew is a young lover, agreeable to look
at, gentlemanly, natural, persuasive, full of life. Mr. James Lewis,
whose grotesque face is a veritable fortune, is the best high-class
comic actor on the American stage; Miss Ada Rehan's coquetry is
irresistible. A certain coaxing drawl in her musical voice lends great
seductiveness to a very handsome presence, and gives an additional charm
to her clever acting. Mrs. Gilbert, who is so like Mdlle. Jouassin, of
the _Comedie-Francaise_, as to be mistaken for her, is the equal of that
actress in some of her "duennas" parts. The actor whose _role_ consists
of handing a card or letter to his master is an artist. This is the
stage as we are used to it France.
* * * * *
If good companies are rare in America, good actors are numerous.
The greatest American actor is Mr. Edwin Booth, who is so justly famous
for his interpretations of Shakesperian _roles_ in America and England.
Mr. Lawrence Barrett is also a highly talented tragedian. In comedy, two
veterans, Mr. John Gilbert and Mr. Lester Wallack[11] must be named
first, then Messrs. Robson and Crane. In purely American plays, Mr.
Joseph Jeffreson is an unrivalled exponent of simple, touching parts. I
had the good fortune to see him in _Rip Van Winkle_, a _role_ which
belongs to him as _Pierre Chopart_ belongs to M. Paulin Menier. Mayo,
Florence, Harrigan, are names which are connected with a thousand
successes in the minds of the Americans. Mr. Steele Mackaye is a good
actor, besides being a dramatic author of great ability. His play, _Paul
Kauvar_, with its realistic scenes of the French Revolution, would
doubtless draw all Paris, if ever the directors of the Porte St. Martin
or the Ambigu took it into their heads to mount it. For original,
fantastic creations, the palm must be awarded to Mr. Richard Mansfield.
I wish M. Octave Feuillet the pleasure of seeing this young and
versatile actor play the part of Baron Chevrial in _The Parisian
Romance_. The conception is as bold as it is artistic. For cleverness at
"making-up," Mr. Mansfield is unrivalled.
[11] America has just lost this excellent actor.
I was not astonished to see _La Tosca_ succeed in the United States. M.
Sardou, having written this play for a "star," a "star" suffices for the
successful playing of it. Miss Fanny Davenport's acting combines vigour,
grace, and dignity. In the third and fourth acts of _La Tosca_, this
actress rises to the level of the great _tragediennes_.
The greatest actress on the American stage is a Pole. Madame Modjeska
has no living rival but Madame Sarah Bernhardt, whom, to my thinking,
she sometimes even surpasses. Her interpretation of the _Dame aux
Camelias_ appeared to me superior to that of her great French rival.
Madame Modjeska does not, perhaps, put into this part the fire, the
depth of passion, that Madame Sarah Bernhardt displays, but she endows
it with more feminine grace--with more purity. She appeals less to the
senses, but more to the heart; she subjugates the spectator less, but
touches him more: it is the courtesan redeemed, purified by love, as M.
Alexandre Dumas conceived her.
* * * * *
The American theatres are spacious, elegant, well lit and well
ventilated. The seats are comfortable, and that French bugbear, the
_ouvreuse de loge_, is unknown.
The ground floor is entirely covered with stalls, but the rise, from the
proscenium to the back of the theatre, is so considerable that the
spectators sitting on the last row have as good a view of the stage as
those in front; and a good thing it is so, for the women adorn their
heads with such monuments of millinery when they go to the play, that,
if the floor were horizontal and you had a stall that was not on the
first row, you would have to trust to the kindness of the ladies in
front to tell you what went on upon the stage.
With the exception of the Metropolitan Opera House and two or three
other large theatres, the auditoriums are only fitted up with stalls,
one or two galleries, and a very few boxes.
Prices are moderate, and range from six to two shillings. For lower
tastes or leaner purses, there are the Bowery theatres, where
melodramas, variety shows, and harlequinades are served up, and the
price of admission is but sixpence or a shilling.
The Americans have an unbearable trick of arriving late at the theatre.
For twenty minutes after the curtain rises there is a constant bustling
and rustling of new comers, which debars you from the pleasure of
following the actors' speeches. If the play begins at eight, they come
at a quarter-past; if it begins at a quarter-past, they come at
half-past, and so on. At the time appointed for the curtain to rise the
stalls are empty. This bad habit annoys the actors and disturbs the
spectators; but the evil is incurable, and managers try vainly to stop
it. I know one who followed the advertisements of his play by this
paragraph:
"The public are solemnly warned that, unless the whole of the first
scene be witnessed, the subsequent action of the play cannot be
understood."
His efforts were crowned with failure. Not to understand the play is a
pity; but not to create a sensation when one comes in, dressed in one's
most killing attire, is out of the question.
It is the same at concerts and lectures. Those who have engaged their
seats in advance, come in a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes after
the time fixed for commencing. When every one is placed, the concert or
lecture begins. The early comers, who have to wait until the late ones
have arrived, utter not a murmur. The patience of the American public
is angelic.
* * * * *
As the public enter the vestibule of an American theatre they are
supplied with programmes. These are gratis, and give an argument of the
play, also the names of all the _employes_ of the establishment. First
the names of the actors and actresses, coupled with those they bear in
their respective _roles_; then the name of the manager, the business
manager, the treasurer, the assistant-treasurer, the musical director,
the master machinist, the master carpenter, the master of properties,
the chief engineer, the head usher, the advertising agent, the
detective, the gas-lighter, etc. If, instead of gas, theatres were lit
with candles, as of yore, the snuffer would have his name announced to
the public in this flourish of trumpets.
If there is a piano used in the play, the programme gives you the name
of the maker; if a repast is served in one of the acts, the programme
tells you the name of the _restaurateur_ who provides it. If there are
rugs and carpets, you are informed who sold them. In a word, you are
made acquainted with all the slightest details concerning the management
of the theatre.
There is sometimes an omission, but only one. It occasionally happens
that the name of the author of the play is not given. After all, when
one goes to see the _Parisian Romance_, of what interest can it be to
know the name of the author?
It is only Octave Feuillet.