AUSTRALIA'S RICH THEATER HISTORY

You theater buffs out there are gonna love this site: It's called "Down Under in the 19th Century" — a fascinating chronology of theater in Australia, skillfully, humorously and lovingly told.

This site is much, much more than Gilbert & Sullivan, but I thought you'd be interested in one of their illustrations — an early Pirates of Penzance poster.

I urge you to surf on over to:

homepages.ihug.co.nz/~melbear/century1.htm

You probably won't be able to finish it in one sitting, and even if you do, you'll want to go back to it. I guar-on-tee.

Happy reading!

Stage Whispers is published by carlacushman.blogspot.com/

5 ACTRESSES ON THE WORLD STAGE • PART 3: ENGLAND'S ELLEN TERRY (1847 - 1928)

It's not surprising that Ellen Terry became an actress, nor that she was, for an era or two, the best loved actress in the English-speaking world. Born into a loving family of successful British actors, headed by popular performers Benjamin and Sarah (Ballard) Terry, Ellen — second surviving daughter of 11 children — was destined for stardom.

Home-schooled, Ellen's earliest memories were of the serious instruction she and her siblings received in elocution — what her father called "the importance of clear articulation"— as well as a thorough study of the plays of Shakespeare. She made her first professional stage appearance at the age of 9, when she was hired by Charles Kean (son of actor Edmund Kean and husband of actress Ellen Tree) to play Mamillius in Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale which opened at the Princesses Theatre April 28, 1856. She performed her role flawlessly, and without an understudy, every night of a 102-night run. Playing other juvenile roles, including Prince Arthur in King John and Puck in A Midsummer Night's Dream, Ellen remained with the Keans until Charles Kean retired in 1859

When she was 15, Ellen joined her actress sister Kate (already a popular performer) in a stock company in Bristol, where she met designer Edward Godwin — associate of William Morris and close friend of Whistler — who introduced her to the fine arts and artists of the time, and influenced her appreciation of the wide artistic world outside the theater.

In 1864, George Frederick Watts, an artist with a studio near Hyde Park, invited Ellen to pose for him. By the time the painting was complete, Watts was totally smitten with the young actress and proposed marriage. Assuming that her aging parents would want to see her firmly settled, she accepted. Their age difference (she was 16, he 46) should have signaled potential disaster; they separated 10 months after they were married.

Soon thereafter, Ellen encountered her old friend Edward Godwin, and this time they fell deeply in love. Still legally married to Watts, Ellen ran away with Godwin to his country home in 1868. Their daughter, Edith, was born in 1869, their son, Teddy, in 1872. Parenthood agreed with them, but by the mid-1870s, their love began to unravel as financial problems went unsolved. In an effort to defray some of their expenses, and restart her career, Ellen returned to London and the stage, but Godwin turned his back on the relationship, leaving Ellen and their children.

After giving a star-building performance as Portia in the 1875 production of The Merchant of Venice at the Prince of Wales Theatre, a string of good roles came her way. And in an effort to give her children respectability, she married in 1877, this time to Charles Clavering Wardell Kelly, an actor/journalist, but they separated sometime before his death in 1885.

In 1878, the 30-year-old actress received a message that changed her life: an invitation from the much honored actor, Sir Henry Irving, to join him as leading lady in his company at the newly acquired Lyceum Theatre, beginning with Ophelia opposite Irving's Hamlet. When she eagerly accepted, that was the start of a 24-year, totally compatible partnership — on stage and off. This is not to say they were or weren't lovers. But in every way, they appeared joined at the hip, fully trusting and completely in sync with one another.

Together, Ellen Terry and Henry Irving breathed new life into classical theater in England, and when their American tours began in 1883, huge advance sales led to nightly sold-out performances of The Merchant of Venice, Much Ado About Nothing, Bulwer-Lytton's The Lady of Lyons, Romeo and Juliet, King Lear, Charles Reade's The Lyons Mail, W. G. Willis's Faust, Macbeth, Henry VIII, Alfred Tennyson's Becket, King Arthur, Cymbelline, and the list goes on.

Ellen and Sir Henry reigned as Britain's leading interpreters of Shakespeare throughout their 24-year partnership. In 1902, Sir Henry's health began to fail, and he and Ellen gave up the Lyceum, and officially brought to an end a quarter century of superb classical theater. They remained close friends and confidants until Sir Henry died in 1905.

You well may think that Dame Ellen Terry, world-famous actress, would slow down, retire to her home in Smallhythe, Kent, write her memoirs, hug her children and grandchildren, and bask in the glory of a life well spent. But here's how it really went down:

1903 - 1905: She and her son took over management of the Imperial Theatre. Here she had complete artistic control and could choose which roles she would play. (Obviously, she had learned well from her longtime partner!) This new venture focused on the plays of Henrik Ibsen, J. M. Barrie and George Bernard Shaw. For at least 20 years, she and Shaw carried on a much publicized correspondence, which has been published and often referred to as a "paper courtship."

1906: Upset by Irving's death in 1905, Ellen went into brief retirement, returning to the stage in April 1906 in the role of Lady Cecily Wayneflete in Shaw's Captain Brassbound's Conversion, then touring successfully in that role throughout England and America.

1907: She toured the U.S. under the direction of Charles Frohman, during which she married American actor James Carew, with whom she had worked at the Court Theatre. He was 30 years her junior. Their marriage was over in under two years.

1909: Ellen played Nance Oldfield in A Pageant of Famous Women, written in 1909 by C. Hamilton and her daughter, Edith.

1910: She toured America once more, to great success.

1911: Returning to England, she played Nell Gwynne in The First Actress by Christopher St. John. Also that year she recorded scenes from five Shakespearean roles for the Victor Talking Machine Company.

1914: Ellen toured Australia and the U.S. again, reciting and lecturing on Shakespeare's heroines. While in the states, she underwent surgery to remove cataracts from both eyes, but the operation was only partially successful.

1916: She performed the role of Darling in Barrie's The Admirable Crichton.

1917 - 1922: Her busy schedule included performing in many WW1 benefits, and she continued to perform on stage while establishing a respectable motion picture career. She retired from the stage in 1920, and from films in 1922.

1925: Actress Ellen Terry became Dame Alice Ellen Terry when she was awarded a Dame Grand Cross of the Order of the British Empire.

In the last few years of her life, Dame Ellen gradually lost her eyesight, and showed signs of senility. She died at her home in Smallhythe, Kent. She was 81. Her ashes are inurned at the actors' church, St. Paul's, Covent Garden, London.

Stage Whispers is published by carlacushman.blogspot.com/

Carla Cushman Interview - Stage Whispers Blog Author

I wish to acknowledge Marty Weil and his splendid blog, ephemera, and thank him for interviewing me and publishing that interview this morning, June 22.

I urge you to visit his blog and read the interview. Whether your passion is for theater, or for the old paper on which theater's rich history is written, or whether you just want to learn about some old stuff that could be new and interesting to you, surf on over to the ephemera blog.

Stage Whispers is published by carlacushman.blogspot.com/

5 ACTRESSES ON THE WORLD STAGE • Part 2: ELEONORA GUILIA AMALIA DUSE (1858 - 1924)

Eleonora Duse was born into a struggling family of itinerant actors in Vigevano, Italy. When she was 4, she made the first of her many stage appearances with the Duse-Lagunaz Troupe. They would set up in town after town, quickly constructing a little stage at the end of a park, or in one of the many piazzas. Two boards and a passion is all an actor requires.

At age 14, when Eleonora played Juliet at Verona, critics began to take notice. But it wasn't until 1878 in Naples that 20-year-old Eleonora's career took a turn toward stardom. Her performance in the title role of Emile Zola's Thérése Raquin met with both critical and audience acclaim, in agreement that "a woman's anguish had never before been played with such truth."

Becoming a star was easy for the talented young actress, but remaining a star required some strategy. Having recognized that Italian audiences were becoming bored with the old, traditional repertory, Duse borrowed a page from Bernhardt's playbook, and developed a repertoire of plays by contemporary French dramatists. For three years she acted in several plays by Dumas the younger, scoring triumph after triumph. In 1884 she created the title role in the latest Dumas play, Denise, as well as the role of Santuzza in Giovanni Verga's Cavalleria Rusticana.

She successfully toured South America, then returned home to form her own company. With it, she made headlines touring Europe, then finally the U.S., where she triumphed despite the fact that she couldn't (didn't?) speak a word of English. All her performances were in Italian, yet Americans flocked to them.

In 1894, she embarked on a long and tempestuous love affair with the young poet, Gabriele D'Annunzio. In his novel, Il Fuoco (The Flame of Life), published in 1900, he tells the story of their love. Duse acted in two of his dramas — La Gioconda in 1898 and Francesca da Rimini in 1902.

It has been said that Duse was capable of subtle and controlled gestures — a "method actress" before "the method" was ever defined — and was able to blush and turn pale at will. She was described as "restrained," an actress "who lived her roles." She became the character she was playing. Quite the opposite of Bernhardt, who molded the character into her own personality.

For reasons of ill health, Duse retired from the stage in 1909, but financial losses incurred during WW1 forced her to return to work in 1921. Her talents were undiminished, but poor health intervened, causing some gaps in her schedule. She appeared in London and Vienna, then embarked on an American tour, which ended in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, when she collapsed on stage and died. Her body was returned to Italy where, according to her wishes, she was buried in the small cemetery of Azolo.

NOTE: If you want to read more about this great tragedienne, I urge you to repair to your public library and check out "Eleonora Duse • A Biography" by Helen Sheehy, published in 2003. Of course, if you wish to remain where you are, surf on over to Amazon. They'll sell you a copy.

Stage Whispers is published by carlacushman.blogspot.com/

FIVE ACTRESSES ON THE WORLD STAGE • Part 1: Agnes Sorma

INTRODUCTION

On this beautiful cigar box label are the subjects of five blog posts — this one and the next four. Originally I intended to put all five in one post, but soon I realized it would be way too long and take too much time. So I've decided to add them one post at a time.

This proof print of the Bachelor Cigars label honors five famous actresses of the late 19th century: America's Julia Marlowe (center), surrounded by, clockwise from top left — Germany's Agnes Sorma, Italy's Eleonora Duse, England's Ellen Terry, and France's Gabrielle Rejane

AGNES SORMA (1862 - 1927)

In her long career, Agnes Sorma played all the roles that make dramatic actresses popular. In Europe, she was often called "the German Bernhardt." She is even credited with having originated the role of Nora in Henrik Ibsen's The Doll's House. Suffice it to say she was recognized as one of the great dramatic actresses of the 19th century.

In 1890, Agnes married an Italian, Count Dimitrio Minotto, and they lived most of the time in Berlin, although the count owned many properties in Italy and throughout Europe. Their son and only child, James, was born in 1891. Before WWI, young Count James Minotto traveled to America, which he loved, became a citizen, and got married. But then he was arrested and interned in a camp of enemy aliens suspected of "pro-German activities."

James's father-in-law, meat packer Louis F. Swift, and many other prominent citizens, testified on his behalf, as did his mother, who called him "Jimmy," and his father who, in describing his son's pro-Americanism, called him "an all-American." Ultimately it became clear that his family was highly regarded in Italy, and his mother, though unknown in the U.S., was renowned as an actress in Europe, and the young count was looked upon more favorably.

Eventually, James was cleared of espionage and released. He and his wife, Idamay, settled in Crown King, Arizona, where he became an innovative and highly respected rancher, and reared a family.

Agnes and Dimitrio returned to their country house on the shores of Wannsee in Berlin. The count died in May 1920, after which the countess asked her agent to arrange for her to tour the U.S. with a repertoire suited to American theatrical tastes.

The tour was designed specifically with occasional breaks so she could visit her son and daughter-in-law and her first grandchild. On those occasions, she worked with a contractor to build the beautiful stone-and-wood house to which she would retire after the tour ended in 1925.

Agnes fit in very well with the people of Crown King. She was an avid horsewoman, a trait she had in common with most of them. She was a good neighbor and well-liked. She died in Crown King, of heart failure at the age of 63, and was buried there, on a knoll near her house — until her Jimmy felt it was time to send her on to Italy, to be buried beside his father.

Next up: Italy's Eleonora Duse.

Stage Whispers is published by Carla Cushman at carlacushman.blogspot.com/

ERRATUM — JULIAN ELTINGE

After some kind words about my recent Drag Queens post, Mark Berger, creator and supreme web master of The Julian Eltinge Project corrected a bit of misinformation about the start of Julian's career. As it turns out, he was not 10, but 18, when he first went on stage in female clothing.

Mark operates a superb site chock full of theatrical history and lots of great pictures. Check it out at

http://www.thejulianeltingeproject.com



Stage Whispers is published by Carla Cushman at carlacushman.blogspot.com/

DRAG QUEENS OF THEATRE Vaudeville History

It wasn't until the mid-18th century that theater directors began to cast females in gender-appropriate roles. Before that, the stage was the dominance of male performers. Did they call that "playing in drag?" Probably not. Most likely their pet name for those roles was something like "petticoats," "bloomers," or an unflattering anatomical term.

I've read several definitions of "drag" (including a couple of tongue-in-cheek acronyms), but the most logical meaning derives from the styles of women's costumes in the 18th and 19th centuries, with skirts so long and full and heavy beyond belief, that they actually dragged across the stage. Thus, the men who wore them were dressed "in drag." 

ROBERT STEIDL (1865-1927)

When I first saw this post card image of Steidl performing as a female Spanish dancer, I thought it was a hoax...that he was far too dowdy and amateurish-looking to be dancing in drag on the stage of the Apollo Theatre in Berlin. But over time, I understood that (1) he was, indeed, spoofing his audience, and (2) back in the day, for a European variety artist to appear at the Apollo in Berlin was a measure of success akin to an American vaudevillian playing the Palace in New York. 

That said, I can't tell you how glad I was to see that he grew that lovely mustache and became a cabaret performer—witty and urbane—and adored by European audiences.

LEO LOYAL 

Though I don't know who he is, I think this post card image of Leo Loyal is worth viewing to see (1) the poignancy and gentle beauty of the full-figured, farm-fresh young lady he portrays; and (2) the use of his phrase "character impersonator," which leads one to ponder the possible characters in his repertoire. If you know anything about the career of Leo Loyal, I invite you to use this venue to fill in the blanks.

RICHARD HARLOW (1873 - 1920)

Theatrical history was made in 1893 when a 20-year-old, 6-foot-tall, 200-pound Harvard grad opened in New York's Palmer's Theatre in the musical comedy (billed as an operatic extravaganza) "1492," playing the pivotal role of Queen Isabella. Audiences adored the show, especially Harlow and a funny man named Walter Jones, and they laughed from curtain up to curtain down. To quote the end of an 1893 New York Times review: "...people laughed and laughed and laughed. That is success."

For seven years, audiences continued to flock to 1492, critics continued to write excellent reviews, and Harlow continued to gain weight each year, prompting the New York Morning Advertiser to dub him "the ponderous but graceful Harlow." He left the show at the end of the 1898/99 season, and immediately followed it with several successful seasons in Vaudeville, after which he retired from the stage and became an interior decorator.

When Harlow left the show, he was replaced by Marie Dressler. As hard as I've tried, I can't imagine how the show could be funny with that casting...unless, of course, she was impersonating a man impersonating the queen. But of course, she wasn't. The gig didn't help her career any, and lasted only three months.

JULIAN ELTINGE (1881 - 1941)

King of the Queens

Arguably the finest female impersonator of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Julian Eltinge (né William J. Dalton) was born in Newton, Massachusetts, and first appeared in drag at the age of 10, in the Boston Cadets Revue. In 1900, he appeared at the Tremont Theatre, Boston, in Malady and the Musketeer, then with Robert Barnet in Miss Simplicity. Julian's Broadway debut in Mr. Wix of Wickham in 1904 launched his meteoric rise to stardom. 

Two Sides of the Coin

Part of Julian's magic was that the women he created were stunningly beautiful from head to toe, not merely to look at, but to listen to, as well. A brilliant actor, his female voices were well modulated in speech, and memorable in song (although it boggles the mind how that was possible when he was so tightly corseted!).

The other part of his magic was his believably masculine side. He played male roles on stage, and every day in real life! And he seemed to know instinctively what role was required of him for any occasion. For example, he and a female friend were traveling together, and the press cornered him where their ship had docked. He enjoyed the good-natured banter of the press, and he easily introduced his traveling companion as his wife. She wasn't of course, but to Julian it seemed the appropriate dialog for the scene he was playing.

Julian's talents were equally appreciated by male and female audiences; moreover, he was equally liked by his men and women friends. It was as if Julian was completely erased when he went to bed, and when he woke up, he was re-programmed to play the day's required roles, both  male and female.

The post card images promoting his greatest hit, show two sides of The Fascinating Widow.

As Julian matured, so did the characters he played:

Writers have called Julian Eltinge a drag star and a magician—even a gender-bender. He was all that, and so much more. Until the Great Depression, that is, and all its ordinances and laws that increasingly prohibited men from appearing in public in female clothing. It breaks my heart to tell you that he wound up in 1940, standing on stage in male clothing, performing his act NEXT TO a rack of his famous gowns.

Can you imagine this man talking, singing, joking and gesturing as a female, while pointing to or holding out a portion of one of these magnificent costumes?

Julian Eltinge had been impersonating "life" for nearly 50 years. After a year of humiliation, he passed away in 1941.

Working in Drag Today

The difference between Drag Queens of today and yesteryear is, in my opinion, the quantity and quality of the talents on display. Venues today are mostly limited to supper clubs and Las Vegas. The Vegas-like drag queen most often impersonates a known star—singing, looking, and dancing like Liza Minelli, for example—and in some cases, not even singing, but lip-synching the lyrics! Yes, I know, tastes change and entertainment evolves. But I also know that if Julian Eltinge were alive today, he'd be so happy that the nasty restrictions that did him in are gone, that he'd find a way to perform his show intact, like the trouper he was.

CHARLEY'S AUNT

Plum Role for Comic Actors

The original Charley's Aunt was penned by Brandon Thomas especially as a vehicle for William S. Pensley (1851-1912), an English actor, singer and comedian. Pensley, after successfully entertaining English audiences in plays, musicals, and Gilbert & Sullivan light operas for 21 years, produced and starred in Charley's Aunt in 1892. It was hugely successful, and moved to the Globe Theatre in 1893, becoming an unprecedented hit, running for 1,466 performances in London. That historic record wasn't broken for decades. Moreover, three revivals were produced over the next 15 years, each starring Pensley.

The well known movie version of Charley's Aunt starred Jack Benny (1894 - 1974), a one-time vaudevillian cum radio personality cum TV star, who was never above donning women's clothes to get a laugh. Based on the original play, the movie version, according to the blurb on the old videocassette sleeve, "stars Benny as an Oxford undergrad who agrees to help his friends circumnavigate a strict university dating rule by acting as their chaperone." I remember watching the movie and laughing a lot, but I was just a kid. I'll order it on Netflix next week, and watch it again. I always liked Jack Benny.

Finally, no post dealing with men who entertain in women's wear would be complete without mentioning two of my all-time favorite actor/comedians, Milton Berle (1908 - 2002) and Harvey Korman (1927 - 2008), two beloved comics who knew how to get laughs—in drag or out.

In the 1950s, Milton Berle was known to us as Mr. Television or Uncle Miltie. He was the Star in the Texaco Star Theater. Slapstick comedy was his domain. A popular variety artist in the heyday of vaudeville, Miltie, to everyone's delight, brought vaudeville to television. Tuesday nights belonged to Uncle Miltie. He would walk out to greet his audience, clad in the wildest costumes—often in drag. Master of the sight-gag, he could just look into the camera and the tears would begin to roll down our faces, we were laughing so hard!

A generation later, Harvey Korman, a classically trained actor, couldn't stay away from comedy. He adored making people laugh, and showcased his versatility on The Carol Burnett Show, where he thrived on playing bizarre men and buxom old ladies.

A skit in 1968 shows Carol Burnett conducting a test for her audience, wherein five pairs of gorgeous gams are exposed. As the upper bodies are revealed, the audience goes wild when they realize that two sets of shapely legs belong to two men: Lyle Waggoner and Harvey Korman.

In case you hadn't notice, Harvey's the one with the cigar.

NEIL BURGESS (1846 - 1910)

I was going to save Mr. Burgess for a future post on the lengthy subject of "Hippodrama," but came to my senses in time to tell you a little something about this popular Vaudeville comedian. When he was just 19, he was an apprentice with a performing group known as Spalding's Bell Ringers. The illness of one of its actors resulted in his stepping into a female role, and his long career of impersonating "elderly widders" was born.

His greatest stage success was as the title character in The Widow Bedott which he introduced in 1879, and which served him well for more than 10 years. He went on to star as Auntie Abigail Prue in Charles Barnard's The Country Fair in 1889, and followed that with Old Miss Podd.

In addition to being an actor and a playwright, Mr. Burgess's many contributions to 19th century hippodrama earned him a large number of patents. Suffice it to say, he was a craftsman in all areas of theater.

Stage Whispers is published by Carla Cushman at carlacushman.blogspot.com/