VOL. IV No. 20

THE

THEATRE: AN ILLUSTRATED MAGAZINE OF DRAMA, MUSIC, ART AND LITERATURE-Published every week from October to May, and as a monthly during the summer, at No. 42 West Twenty-third Street, New York' DESHLER WELCH.. EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.

The price of yearly subscription to THE THEATRE is four dollars in advance. The editor solicits contributions from the readers of THE THEATRE, and suggests that old play-bills, and scraps relating to the stage, notes, news and items appertaining to the different arts, would be acceptable. It is the desire of the editor to establish a widely-circulated magazine, and to further that end every good idea will be acted upon so far as possible. Care is always taken not to needlessly destroy valuable manuscript. All articles appearing in THE THEATRE are written especially for it unless credited otherwise.

ENTRE NOUS.

THE portrait that adorns this issue of

THE THEATRE as a frontispiece is that of Jane Hading, the lovely French actress. It is from a photograph, but if ever a photograph succeeded in doing an injustice to a woman, it is in this case. There is something in the charms of Madame Hading's face which could not be transferred to paper very well, no matter how good the instrument. When lighted by laughter, there are dimples more fascinating than any I have ever seen on the stage, and when covered by the sorrow which her art simulates so perfectly there is an inexpressibly precious appeal to sympathy. Coquelin and Hading are now playing in Boston where they are meeting with a success even greater than their experience in New York. On the afternoon of October 30, M. Coquelin gave a lecture at Cambridge, under the auspices of the Conference Francaise, the Harvard French Society, before a very distinguished audi

ence.

He defined the comedian as a possessor of two personalities-"l'un, l'instrument, le deux, l'instrumentiste. The

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comedian should always study and cultivate himself; never forget himself. The poorest actor is the one who imagines himself actually the person of his role, and forgets his audience. Articulation is at once the a, b, c, and the last aim of the stage; it must be studied all one's life. The actor who talks on the stage as if en famille may be called "natural," but he is not altogether an actor. In the same way the eyes must be used to affect the audiences; it will not do to have them wandering about aimlessly; nor is it effective to turn the back on the audience while speaking. An actor has no right to go beyond the limits of his role-to make a new creation, out of consistency with the author's fixed idea, as Mr. Irving has done in "Macbeth.” He, of all men, ought never to interpolate a line or word of his His business is to portray the author's conception, not his own; and the actor who most successfully does that, avoids "creating" a type or manner of his own making and making a similarity between every character he plays. The art of acting is the most refined and dainty and human art there is; and it must not be degraded by false "naturalism." The stage is not a medical clinic. The actor must never forget either himself, his art, or his audience; if he remembers all three, and is otherwise fitted for his business, he becomes the greatest of actors." This is a fair report of the lecture, and M. Coquelin excited some amusement by giving an imitation of Henry Irving, showing by certain movements of the hands and legs what Mr. Irving thought a necessary adjunct for stage effect.

Own.

IT will doubtless seem very presuming in

me to contradict M. Coquelin's assertions but I do object to one most decidedly. There was a time when it was considered quite against the rules of the stage to turn the back upon an audience in any way, or for any cause whatever. But, nowa-days some of the most effective bits of business are accomplished by turning the back even while speaking. Mr. Irving frequently employs the use of it. What M. Coquelin says about false naturalism is

true.

Our American actors are obtaining

a slovenly method, by acting their own tiresome naturalness, and that is one reason why it becomes exceedingly monotonous to forever find the same man or woman in every part represented without an attempt to picture some one else. The mere recitation of another's joys or woes by dramatic effect without the use of any art to introduce a disguise of one's own individuality is not art at all. English actors. succeed in that better than we do, especially in facial make up. Mr. Mansfield appreciates this to a degree that makes him eminent in his profession.

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THE story of Coquelin's career can be thus

recounted in brief. He was the son of a Boulogne pasrty cook, and was born in 1841. At the age of nineteen years, after some coaching by Regnier, of the Theatre Francais, he entered the theatre formally as an actor, where he has remained ever since achieving the success that is well known. He has a brother Coquelin cadet who has distinguished himself in various ways and by his pen both in writing and sketching. Madame Hading began to sing in Algiers in light operas at the age of fourteen. After some good experience in Marseilles she appeared in Paris in 1877.

In 1883, she attracted great attention by her creation of Claire Beaulieu in Ohnet's Le Maitre de Forge's."

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IN a recent speech Henry Irving quoted

as follows: A thoughtful mind must often be struck with a kind of awe in surveying society, and asking what influences. are really operating in raising the masses from the low level of sordid occupations and the lower deep of debaseing pleasures. Shall we look to the magic of home? To the lowly it is too often a scene of dirt and of fretfulness, in which even honest hard work and self-sacrifice are sourly disguised in the garb of ill-temper. Shall we turn to religion? For the minority, no tongue can exaggerate its preciousness or its elevating power; but for the millions of all grades it means nothing, or it means narrowness. Public spirit usually becomes unrecognisable in small party manœuvres, and at best cannot engross the whole leisure or faculties even of the humblest. As to poetry, it is simply not read. It is from the theatre-from English tragedy, comedy, and drama-that the commonality of all classes derive, more than from any other source, the food and stimulants which the higher nature requires. Literary men who write, preachers who really preach, daily discover with pain that to a large extent their work is in the clouds. A moving actor goes straight and surely to the popu lar head and heart.

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IT is announced that all hopes of M. Coquelin's return to the Francais must be considered at an end. He has reaped such a golden harvest during his American tour and he has entered into an engagement with Mr. Grau for another next year. The committee of the theatre has accordingly

complied with his request to hand over to him the amount standing to his credit in the funds of Moliere's house-over £10,ooo-and his connection with it is thus definitively broken.

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THE chief theatrical event of the week, and

most assuredly of the English theatrical season has been the appearance of those delightful actors, Messrs. Jefferson and Gilbert and Mrs. Drew. To have this trio in such a play as "The Rivals" is an opportunity that affords the the keenest pleasure to the thoughtful observers of the stage. No matter how familar the play itself may become to you, the study of the acting by these comedians is as charming and as fascinating as the most splendid painting can become to the appreciative critic. One by one the famous actors of "the old school" are leaving us however, and as we bade good-bye to Warren so must it soon be with others. But, I pray the time is a long way off yet..

IT must be particularly gratifying to Mr. Harry Edwards, who is this season with Mrs. Potter, to have made the signal triumph he did in Boston last week. His performance of Hardcastle made a great hit and the critics were lavish in their praise this too in Warren's stronghold and in a city where Gilbert was born and where he played the same part only a year ago. "To Mr. The Transcript said: Harry Edwards first honors belong. His Mr. Hardcastle is a fine representation of the bluff, hearty gentleman of the old school, the soul of courtesy and good nature, with just a touch of irascibility, and his face, upon which astonishment, pleasure, vexation, fondness and humor are succes

sively pictured in graphic lines, is a study which increases in interest with contemplation." The Herald said: "Mr. Edwards is one of the few thoroughly equipped stage managers (alas, how few they are!) that the destruction of the "stock system" has left to the American theatre. Where he is, good work is sure to be. Mrs. Potter is fortunate in his assistance. He was as hale and hearty an old Hardcastle as one could wish to see, and he seemed to afford considerable diversion to M. Coquelin, who watched the performance from Mr. Stetson's box." The Globe said; "A large share of the honors of the evening were accorded Mr. Edwards for his really excellent Mr. Hardcastle. The gentleman is a thorough actor, of much strength and refined finish. His pronounced success was well deserved."

Mrs. Potter's work this season shows decided improvement. Her success so far, has been wonderful. She will, very likely, make a large amount of money. The Boston critics are generally united in their praise and this especially pleases me, because on the outset of her career I predicted with considerable positiveness that she had in her that necessary something which makes an actress. She will make her mark yet! You see if she doesn't!

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IT is also very pleasant to record the success abroad of Osmond Tearle, an English actor, whose long residence here as leading man of Wallack's company won him friends and admirers. His wife, formerly Miss Conway, is an American girl and she too, has met with great success. The Old Ham Standard declares that upon Mr. Tearle has fallen the mantle of the Keans and Brook, and in a long article. discusses him with much enthusiam.

IT is rather a curious coincidence that

Gilbert in his "Yeoman of the Guard," and Sidney Grundy in his new play "Mamma" should have hit on the singular name of Shadbolt among the persons of the play.

NOW

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comes that nuisance again of the high-hatted woman at the theatre, who believes man has no rights she is bound to respect even if he pays a dollar and a half for the privilege. Is it not strange that women do not find fault with each other about this thing? Oh! for some manager with cold-blooded determination, who will absolutely challenge the right of any one to prevent another from seeing what he contracted for! Then, there is that other nuisance in male habiliment, who takes off a great coat and hangs it over the back of the chair, so it falls on the lap of the individual behind him! The other night at a theatre where the distance between your own seat and the back' of the one in front of you is so narrow that disease in the knee joint is a possible risk, I was almost enveloped by a man's shabby overcoat when I politely requested him to remove his festive-garment, he appeared quite injured by my boldness. Then he took it and sat down upon it and by his added height obscured nearly all the stage from my vision. Then, there is that other nuisance, the woman with a fan, who keeps it going with a creak that is calculated to drive a cool minded man frantic. She works her fan from habit and is lost in her* own nervous disguise. I have come to the conclusion that the men who go out between acts are entitled to a great deal of credit nowadays. Many of them go to get a drink, possibly, in order to bear up against further annoyances.

THAT bright woman, Mrs. Mary Fiske, the author of "Phillip Herne," thus describes in the Mirror the day's work of one manager:

Mr. Hill breakfasts at nine; goes to the Union Square to see how much has been done to it since the day before; gets a half peck of letters; runs over to his battlefield to see if Gettysburg is still at it with shot and shell; goes over to Wiliamsburg to the Murray and Mnrphy party; flies off to Wilkesbarre to have a talk with Roach's Dan Darcy Company; stops over, coming back, to see if the Sculler's Exhibition at New Brunswick is being properly boomed; takes the train for Boston, where he has an oyster house and restaurant as big as an Eastern town; stops over at Hartford to engineer the Helen Barry tour, and again at Worcester where the Possible Case company must be talked with for a few minutes; while in Boston at his oyster palace he has a fine telephonic interview with the manager of his big clothing house in Chicago; pelts back to New York in time to see a few lawyers and steer a few lawsuits; goes up to the Standard and smiles upon the Philip Herne company; gets the last half peck of letters; holds a conference with lithographers and advance agents; goes home about eleven to answer his letters, block out routes and dress himself for breakfast.

I like work, but it strikes me this sounds like labor.

THER

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HERE will be sixty-three performances of German opera at the Metropolitan Opera House this season, so I am informed. Mr. Stanton has his hands full, but he is confident of a brilliant season.

The leading singers are Mmes. Hanfstaengel, Lehmann and Olden, Misses Bettaque, Fohstroem, Koschska, Reil and Traubmann, Messrs Alvary, Mittelhauser, Perotti, Sedlmayer, Beck, Grienauer, Robinson, Fischer, Modlinger and Weiss. Messrs. Seidl and Damrosch will conduct the orchestra, and the chorus and ballet will be of the usual dimensions. pertory is as follows :

Tannhauser
Lohengrin

Die Meistersinger
Tristan and Isolde
Rheingold, (first time)
Die Walknre
Siegfried

Die Goetterdaemmerung
Les Huguenots
L'Africaine

Robert le Diable
Le Prophete
Aida
Trovatore

Queen of Sheba
Merlin

The re

Richard Wagner

Meyerbeer

Verdi

Goldmark

XTRAORDINARY preparations are being made for the Booth-Barrett presentation of the "Merchant of Venice" at the Fifth Avenue theatre, and the event will be the most important of the dramatic year. A number of innovations will be

made in the way of scenery.

'The opening performance of the engagement on Nov. 12th, will be "Othello," followed on the second night by "The Merchant of Venice." The tragedians will be assisted by their own company, which includes a number of well-known actors. On the opening night Mr. Booth will play Iago and Mr. Barret Othello. On Tuesday night Mr. Barrett will play Bassanio, in "The Merchant of Venice," and Mr. Booth, Shylock. These two plays will be given on alternate nights during the first week.

Trophonius.

theatres cultivate a becoming style of carriage and address, copied from the legitimate "stars" of the profession.

Getting an audience with a London manager, apropos of dignity, is no insignificant. affair, remember, and when you succeed, you come away impressed with the idea that "life is worth living," if for nothing but the fun of the thing.

Entering the Lyceum, the temple of the great and only Irving, one of reasonably democratic tendencies, accustomed to conventional New York life, is apt, perhaps, to feel uncomfortable. Not that the house is more imposing, aggregatively, in appointments or decoration than several of our New York houses, but every official you meet exhibits such a severe and constrained expression of departmental importance, and glides around you in such a stereotyped manner, that it has the effect of unduly exciting the nerves. There is no person of an impressionable nature who is not susceptible to such influences. Strange as it is, however, such a condition of things is almost inseparable from a thorough appreciation of high art of the idealistic type.

But of the Lyceum: Mme. Bernhardt produced "La Tosca," the original Parisian setting, following Irving's departure, and with rather mixed results. A very large section of the intellectual play-goers and professional critics saw much to admire in the play, and particularly in the inter

section, quite as intellectual, pounced down upon the work with the same avidity recently displayed by their New York brethren of the ink holder, and, forgetting all about the precedents afforded by the classics of Schiller, Shakespeare and yet more modern high-class authors, soundly belabored M. Sardou and, figuratively, held him up to public execration, head downwards. The play was well received notwithstanding, and drew immense business. Mme. Bernhardt probably cared, or asked for, no more. The French usually care little for the outer world in the matter of opinion, so long as the financial equivalent is forthcoming.

There remains little to be said about the success of the Augustin Daly company in London. To all appearances it was com