“They that reviled him may mourn to recover him,—Knowing how gentle he was and how brave!Nothing he’ll reck, where the wind blowing over himRipples the grasses that dream on his grave!”
“They that reviled him may mourn to recover him,—Knowing how gentle he was and how brave!Nothing he’ll reck, where the wind blowing over himRipples the grasses that dream on his grave!”
“They that reviled him may mourn to recover him,—Knowing how gentle he was and how brave!Nothing he’ll reck, where the wind blowing over himRipples the grasses that dream on his grave!”
* * * * * * *
Much has been written, first and last, about Belasco’s utter absorption in artistic matters and his ignorance of business affairs. It is true that, first of all, he was an artist and that in his theory of theatrical business the keystone of the arch was the Art of Acting. But it cannot be too strongly emphasized that he was one of the few managers who united in himself a profound knowledge of thedrama, all the methods and expedients of histrionic art, the history of the Theatre and entire familiarity with its contemporary conditions. He was, in short, one of the most shrewd, sagacious, far-sighted, hard-headed managers that ever lived. He early saw the futility of trying to attend, himself, to every detail of a great and complex organization and so he employed capable and vigorous men, able and willing to work under his direction and to carry out his orders. But anybody who supposes that David Belasco was not perfectly well and intimately aware of everything that was going on around him and was not at all times the master of his own destiny in the Theatre is cherishing a delusion!
Most conspicuous among the men associated with Belasco throughout his long career in management was Benjamin Franklin Roeder, his general business representative and close personal friend, whose name is here fittingly linked with commemoration of the chief whom he so long and faithfully served. Mr. Roeder, originally, aspired to be a dramatist, and during the early days of Belasco’s activity in New York, while connected with the Sargent School of Acting, he obtained an introduction to him from Franklin Sargent. Roeder had made a dramatization of the novel of “St. Elmo” (a subject which was successfully introduced on thestage many years later) and desired that Belasco should read his play with a view to its possible production. Belasco, pleased by the manner and address of the young writer, agreed to consider the matter and made an appointment to meet him and discuss it at the School office at one o’clock on the following Sunday afternoon. In the stress of business he forgot that appointment, but an urgent errand taking him to his office at eleven o’clock on the night of the specified day he found Roeder seated on the doorstep, asleep. He had been waiting there ten hours. “When I asked him why he had waited,” said Belasco, telling me of this incident, “he answered, ‘You said you might be late—and to wait.’ I made up my mind then that there was surely a place for a boy so tenacious and that he was just the fellow for me. I took him on, at first as my secretary, and he has been my business assistant, sometimes my bulwark, always ‘my friend, faithful and just to me,’ ever since.”
Members of the theatrical profession are almost without exception indiscreet and garrulous; secrecy, which often would be invaluable in that profession,—as in any calling in which success frequently depends on priority in exploitation of ideas which cannot be protected from imitation,—is almost unknown in it. Roeder unites in himself not only fidelity to his
Photograph by White.Belasco’s Collection.BENJAMIN F. ROEDER, BELASCO’S GENERAL BUSINESS MANAGER
Photograph by White.Belasco’s Collection.BENJAMIN F. ROEDER, BELASCO’S GENERAL BUSINESS MANAGER
Photograph by White.Belasco’s Collection.
BENJAMIN F. ROEDER, BELASCO’S GENERAL BUSINESS MANAGER
employer, tenacity of purpose, familiarity with all the commercial details of theatrical affairs, but also excellent executive faculties, directness and celerity in the despatch of business and, on all subjects, the restful reticence of the reclusive clam. His services were often invaluable to Belasco.
* * * * * * *
In person David Belasco was singular. His height was only five feet, six inches, and in later years he became rather stout, but in youth he was slender and graceful. His raiment was, almost invariably, black and in appearance much resembled that worn by Roman Catholic priests of the present day. His hair, originally black (not, as most hair so designated is, dark brown, butjet black), became first gray, then silver-white. His eyebrows were remarkably heavy and black and so remained. His eyes were extraordinarily fine—dark brown, large, and luminous—and his gaze was attentive and direct. I have not observed a countenance more singular, mobile, and expressive. When he chose he could make of it an inscrutable mask. But when indifferent or unaware of observation the changes of expression—shadows of his thoughts—would flit over his face with astonishing variety and rapidity, so that I have watched him when he would appear at one moment commonplace and dull—the next,highly distinguished, then kind—gentle—thoughtful—dreamy—ruminant—pensive—mischievous—pugnacious—alert—hard—cold—at moments, even malignant—boyish—playful—tender. On the rare occasions when passion mastered him (or when he chose to have it seem to do so—occasions always difficult to distinguish), his aspect became positively Mephistophelian....
* * * * * * * *
One of the mental advantages possessed by Belasco,—a qualification as precious as it is rare,—was the faculty of absorbing knowledge without effort. He learned all things with amazing ease. When little more than thirteen years old he had imbibed from an uncle, a visionary scholar, sufficient knowledge of Hebrew to enable him to conduct a religious service in that language, which he did, “without the punctuation,”—an achievement the difficulty of which will be appreciated only by Hebrew scholars. That faculty persisted in him always....
Belasco early recognized the wisdom contained in the old poet Prior’s injunction as to the treatment of woman,
“Be to her faults a little blind,Be to her virtues very kind,”
“Be to her faults a little blind,Be to her virtues very kind,”
“Be to her faults a little blind,Be to her virtues very kind,”
and he consistently obeyed it. He possessed, furthermore, an intuitive knowledge of the nature of women, a compassionate sympathy with them, and, whether professionally or personally, exceptional skill in pleasing and managing them: he was, in turn, readily subservient to female influence....
As a writer he manifested amazing vitality, persistent industry, lively fancy, considerable faculty of imagination, keen observation, quick perception of character but more of striking situation and effect, and great knowledge of human nature. He possessed more the sense of humor than the faculty of it....
Belasco all his life possessed the spirit of adventure. He was eagerly interested in the life of to-day. His sensibility was extreme. He had great goodness of heart. He was very generous, extremely kind.
* * * * * * *
[Not long before my father died he broached to Belasco the project of making a remarkable series of Shakespearean productions. His suggestion was eagerly adopted and, if he had lived, it would havebeen put into effect during the theatrical season of 1918-’19. His death forced postponement of the productions—but some preparatory work had been accomplished and Belasco has not abandoned the project, which is outlined in the following correspondence, and which will, I believe, ultimately be fulfilled.—J. W.]
(William Winter to David Belasco.)
“New Brighton, Staten Island,“February 23, 1917.“Dear David:—“My work on your ‘Life,’ leading me into considerate examination of what you have done and not done, the scope of your experience, the difference between conditions, past and present, has, incidentally, turned my mind toward the future and what you might do, and I venture to make a suggestion, which I hope you will not deem intrusive. It would be a great thing for our Stage, and I think for you, if you were to make a splendid production of a Shakespeare play—and I believe that you could, with profit, bring out ‘King Henry IV.’ It has not been acted in New York since 1896, and then only for a few nights and in a very inefficient way.[8]It had not been acted previous to that for fifteen or twenty years. ‘On the road’ it is, practically, as little known. The Second Part has not been acted in our city (except two or three performances at the Century [Theatre], by amateurs, signifying nothing) for morethan half-a-century. A production of the First Part might be made; or, Daly’s original scheme of combining the two parts might be fulfilled,—though I believe the former would be much the better venture.“If the idea pleases you, I should be most happy to talk with you about it, in detail; to make suggestions, and to assist in any possible way. I hope you will consider this matter with care. If you do not bring out the play, before long somebody else will—and, if with proper care, gain reputation and money by it.“I have been very sick, but am improving and the work goes on—though much slower than I would have it do. I hope to see you before long.“With kind regards,“Faithfully yours,“William Winter.”
“New Brighton, Staten Island,“February 23, 1917.
“Dear David:—
“My work on your ‘Life,’ leading me into considerate examination of what you have done and not done, the scope of your experience, the difference between conditions, past and present, has, incidentally, turned my mind toward the future and what you might do, and I venture to make a suggestion, which I hope you will not deem intrusive. It would be a great thing for our Stage, and I think for you, if you were to make a splendid production of a Shakespeare play—and I believe that you could, with profit, bring out ‘King Henry IV.’ It has not been acted in New York since 1896, and then only for a few nights and in a very inefficient way.[8]It had not been acted previous to that for fifteen or twenty years. ‘On the road’ it is, practically, as little known. The Second Part has not been acted in our city (except two or three performances at the Century [Theatre], by amateurs, signifying nothing) for morethan half-a-century. A production of the First Part might be made; or, Daly’s original scheme of combining the two parts might be fulfilled,—though I believe the former would be much the better venture.
“If the idea pleases you, I should be most happy to talk with you about it, in detail; to make suggestions, and to assist in any possible way. I hope you will consider this matter with care. If you do not bring out the play, before long somebody else will—and, if with proper care, gain reputation and money by it.
“I have been very sick, but am improving and the work goes on—though much slower than I would have it do. I hope to see you before long.
“With kind regards,“Faithfully yours,“William Winter.”
(David Belasco to William Winter.)
“Belasco Theatre, New York,“March 2, 1917.“My dear Mr. Winter:—“I received your letter and regret very much that you were so ill. I am glad, indeed, to learn that you are better. I think the weather is very depressing and debilitating.“I have long wanted to do a Shakespearean play, and your suggestion gives me an idea. I think that ‘King Henry IV.,’ if well done and produced with simple dignity, would be most timely. Thank you very much for your suggestion.“As soon as this hateful season is over (the spring season is always so hard on me—engaging actors, gettingmanuscripts together, etc.) do let me come over and talk over ‘King Henry IV.’: meanwhile, I must read it again, as parts of it are very faint in my memory. I do not believe in combining the two parts. I had thought of ‘Julius Cæsar,’ which I consider the greatest play in the world; but it is so well known that it invites comparison. It is much better to produce a Shakespearean play but little seen....“With many thanks, all good wishes—and looking forward to seeing you and talking over a Shakespearean production, I am,“Faithfully yours,“David Belasco.”
“Belasco Theatre, New York,“March 2, 1917.
“My dear Mr. Winter:—
“I received your letter and regret very much that you were so ill. I am glad, indeed, to learn that you are better. I think the weather is very depressing and debilitating.
“I have long wanted to do a Shakespearean play, and your suggestion gives me an idea. I think that ‘King Henry IV.,’ if well done and produced with simple dignity, would be most timely. Thank you very much for your suggestion.
“As soon as this hateful season is over (the spring season is always so hard on me—engaging actors, gettingmanuscripts together, etc.) do let me come over and talk over ‘King Henry IV.’: meanwhile, I must read it again, as parts of it are very faint in my memory. I do not believe in combining the two parts. I had thought of ‘Julius Cæsar,’ which I consider the greatest play in the world; but it is so well known that it invites comparison. It is much better to produce a Shakespearean play but little seen....
“With many thanks, all good wishes—and looking forward to seeing you and talking over a Shakespearean production, I am,
“Faithfully yours,“David Belasco.”
(William Winter to David Belasco.)
“New Brighton, Staten Island,“March 8, 1917.“Dear David:—“Your letter of March 2 has reached me.“I was glad to hear from you, and I thank you for your kind wishes. I improve but slowly: still—I improve.“The work goes on—butnotwell. It goes slowly. But still—it goes. I do not remember ever experiencing so much difficulty in putting biographical matter in order....“As soon as the weather settles, and the pressure of your business will permit, I shall be glad to have you come to see me here. We can then resume talks about your adventures; and we can confer about ‘King Henry IV.’ The more I have reflected on the subject the more I feel that you would do well to revive that play. It requires editing, of course,—but it is a superb work. BesidesFalstaff,King Henry the Fourth,Prince HenryandHotspurare all splendid characters (Iprefer thePrincetoHotspur: actors usually do not), and several of the others are almost as good.“The plan of combining the two Parts has some merits: but (in my judgment) to produce the First Part is the ‘eftest scheme.’ We will talk of it when you come....“Faithfully yours,“William Winter.”
“New Brighton, Staten Island,“March 8, 1917.
“Dear David:—
“Your letter of March 2 has reached me.
“I was glad to hear from you, and I thank you for your kind wishes. I improve but slowly: still—I improve.
“The work goes on—butnotwell. It goes slowly. But still—it goes. I do not remember ever experiencing so much difficulty in putting biographical matter in order....
“As soon as the weather settles, and the pressure of your business will permit, I shall be glad to have you come to see me here. We can then resume talks about your adventures; and we can confer about ‘King Henry IV.’ The more I have reflected on the subject the more I feel that you would do well to revive that play. It requires editing, of course,—but it is a superb work. BesidesFalstaff,King Henry the Fourth,Prince HenryandHotspurare all splendid characters (Iprefer thePrincetoHotspur: actors usually do not), and several of the others are almost as good.
“The plan of combining the two Parts has some merits: but (in my judgment) to produce the First Part is the ‘eftest scheme.’ We will talk of it when you come....
“Faithfully yours,“William Winter.”
(William Winter to David Belasco.)
“46 Winter Avenue, New Brighton,“Staten Island, New York,“May 18, 1917.“My dear David:—“In the course of my work on the ‘Life’ I have had occasion to examine and consider several forms of censure and disparagement which, first and last, have been a good deal circulated about you. One of these is the statement (which I, personally, have heard made by some who ought to have known better) that you have not ‘produced Shakespeare’ because you have been afraid the public would then ‘find you out.’ This has led me to make a very careful study of the subject and an exposition of the quality of your early experience and training as bearing upon competency to produce and direct Shakespeare in revivals. This, in turn, has kept the suggestion I ventured to make to you, some time ago, about ‘King Henry IV.,’ much in my mind. And turning over that subject and looking at it from many points, I have formulated a plan, fulfilment of which would give you an absolutely unique position among producers of Shakespeare, and I venture to lay it beforeyou, in the hope that perhaps it may be of use, and that, at least, you will not think me presumptuous.“It is as follows:“‘King Henry IV.,’ both parts, is a sequel to ‘King Richard II.’ The latter is one of the most eloquent and beautiful of all Shakespeare’s plays. All three of the plays named could well and conveniently be actedby the same company. The actual expense of putting on all three of them would not be much more than that of putting on one. You could make anIMMENSEimpression by bringing out those three plays as a ‘Shakespeare Trilogy.’ Thus:“Mondays and Thursdays; ‘King Richard II.’“Tuesdays and Fridays; ‘King Henry IV., Part One.’“Wednesdays and Saturdays; ‘King Henry IV., Part Two.’“Thus, every week, you could give two full ‘cycles’ of the trilogy; and, on matinée days, the ‘First Part of King Henry IV.,’ or a modern play.“In presenting such a thing you would undertake and accomplish a more distinctive, original, and impressive managerial enterprise than any single venture of any of the representative Shakespearean producers,—Garrick, Kemble, Macready, Phelps, Kean, Booth, Irving, Daly, or Beerbohm-Tree.“Ifeel confident that, in abusinessway, it could be made profitable. If you got through even at cost, or at a small loss, it would (inmyview) be, in abusinessway (wholly aside from the immense and incontestable service to art and the public), a profitable investment. And Iam sureit would ‘make money,’ too.“I would do anything and everything in my power to help so fine a scheme,—would arrange the plays, write notes, etc., etc., if you should desire it.“Please do not think me intrusive with my suggestions. And please give this very careful consideration.“It would be a special satisfaction to me to see you crown your career with such a wonderful, such an unparalleled, accomplishment. However much honest difference of opinion there may be regarding some of the productions you have made (as you know, you and I are hopelessly at variance about some of the plays you have brought out), there could be no room for cavil or honest censure of such a venture as the production of three of Shakespeare’s greatest plays, which, practically speaking, are unknown, arenew, to the American Stage, and which are peculiarly well suited toyourpurposes and treatment. And it would be all the more splendid that such production should not be made at the high-tide of general theatrical prosperity, but should be made when the whole world seems shattered, and the rest of theatrical managers are running about like ants that have been disturbed in their hill!“Faithfully yours,“William Winter.”
“46 Winter Avenue, New Brighton,“Staten Island, New York,“May 18, 1917.
“My dear David:—
“In the course of my work on the ‘Life’ I have had occasion to examine and consider several forms of censure and disparagement which, first and last, have been a good deal circulated about you. One of these is the statement (which I, personally, have heard made by some who ought to have known better) that you have not ‘produced Shakespeare’ because you have been afraid the public would then ‘find you out.’ This has led me to make a very careful study of the subject and an exposition of the quality of your early experience and training as bearing upon competency to produce and direct Shakespeare in revivals. This, in turn, has kept the suggestion I ventured to make to you, some time ago, about ‘King Henry IV.,’ much in my mind. And turning over that subject and looking at it from many points, I have formulated a plan, fulfilment of which would give you an absolutely unique position among producers of Shakespeare, and I venture to lay it beforeyou, in the hope that perhaps it may be of use, and that, at least, you will not think me presumptuous.
“It is as follows:
“‘King Henry IV.,’ both parts, is a sequel to ‘King Richard II.’ The latter is one of the most eloquent and beautiful of all Shakespeare’s plays. All three of the plays named could well and conveniently be actedby the same company. The actual expense of putting on all three of them would not be much more than that of putting on one. You could make anIMMENSEimpression by bringing out those three plays as a ‘Shakespeare Trilogy.’ Thus:
“Mondays and Thursdays; ‘King Richard II.’
“Tuesdays and Fridays; ‘King Henry IV., Part One.’
“Wednesdays and Saturdays; ‘King Henry IV., Part Two.’
“Thus, every week, you could give two full ‘cycles’ of the trilogy; and, on matinée days, the ‘First Part of King Henry IV.,’ or a modern play.
“In presenting such a thing you would undertake and accomplish a more distinctive, original, and impressive managerial enterprise than any single venture of any of the representative Shakespearean producers,—Garrick, Kemble, Macready, Phelps, Kean, Booth, Irving, Daly, or Beerbohm-Tree.
“Ifeel confident that, in abusinessway, it could be made profitable. If you got through even at cost, or at a small loss, it would (inmyview) be, in abusinessway (wholly aside from the immense and incontestable service to art and the public), a profitable investment. And Iam sureit would ‘make money,’ too.
“I would do anything and everything in my power to help so fine a scheme,—would arrange the plays, write notes, etc., etc., if you should desire it.
“Please do not think me intrusive with my suggestions. And please give this very careful consideration.
“It would be a special satisfaction to me to see you crown your career with such a wonderful, such an unparalleled, accomplishment. However much honest difference of opinion there may be regarding some of the productions you have made (as you know, you and I are hopelessly at variance about some of the plays you have brought out), there could be no room for cavil or honest censure of such a venture as the production of three of Shakespeare’s greatest plays, which, practically speaking, are unknown, arenew, to the American Stage, and which are peculiarly well suited toyourpurposes and treatment. And it would be all the more splendid that such production should not be made at the high-tide of general theatrical prosperity, but should be made when the whole world seems shattered, and the rest of theatrical managers are running about like ants that have been disturbed in their hill!
“Faithfully yours,“William Winter.”
(Telegram, David Belasco to William Winter.)
“New York, May 19, 1917.“Dear William Winter, I [have] just read your letter. You are right, and I promise you and myself to do the plays as you suggest, counting upon your generous assistance, without which I could not do them. I shall come over as soon as I possibly can, to speak further of this. Thank you for your enthusiasm and your faith. God bless you!“David Belasco.”
“New York, May 19, 1917.
“Dear William Winter, I [have] just read your letter. You are right, and I promise you and myself to do the plays as you suggest, counting upon your generous assistance, without which I could not do them. I shall come over as soon as I possibly can, to speak further of this. Thank you for your enthusiasm and your faith. God bless you!
“David Belasco.”
[It was part of my father’s purpose in making this Memoir to devote a section in it toBelasco’s Contemporaries. The notes which he made on the subject were not extensive. For that reason and for others I have decided not to attempt to supply the section. Before making the decision, however, I addressed to Belasco some inquiries bearing on the subject and especially one concerning his “favorite player.” His reply to the latter embodies a notable tribute to a wonderful woman and is, I think, of exceptional interest. Among other things, it strikingly illustrates how radically doctors sometimes disagree. No person more admired the resolute courage shown by Sarah Bernhardt than Winter did, who wrote of her: “It is good to see upon the Stage—and everywhere else—indomitable endurance, the aspiring mind that nothing can daunt and the iron will that nothing can break.” And no writer more justly appreciated than he did her artistic faculties, her supremacy as “an histrionic executant.” His final estimate of her, however,—an estimate as exact as a chemist’s analysis and one which will survive all disparagement,—is, in some respects, in such sharp disagreement with Belasco’s that readers of the latter will find the former specially instructive. It is embodied, together with hisstudies of her acting, in his book entitled “The Wallet of Time.”—J. W.]
(David Belasco to Jefferson Winter.)
“The Belasco Theatre, New York,“May 31, 1918.“My dear Jefferson Winter:—“You ask me to tell you who, of all the players I have ever seen, is my favorite. My, but that is a hard question to answer! In fact, I don’t think Icananswer with just a name. I have so many favorites! It is a case of ‘Not that I love Cæsar less but Rome more!’ And then, too, I have seen and known so many players of so many different kinds—ofallkinds—and our moods vary. As I look back into my memory and try to call up the actors and actresses of the Past it seems to me that John McCullough was the mostlovableas a man and, in the great, heroic parts, the most satisfying as an actor. Barrett was the mostambitious; Booth was the mostpowerfulandinteresting; Owens was thefunniestman I ever saw, and after him Raymond; Wallack was the mostpolishedandcourtly; Salvini was the mostimposing; Irving the mostintellectualanddominating; Mansfield the mosterratic—and all of them were great actors and each of them, I think, was my special favorite! But if I could see only one more theatrical performance and had to choose which one of those actors I would see, I think I would choose Edwin Booth inKing Richard the Third.“Of the women—Adelaide Neilson was easily the mostwinsomeandpassionate. Modjeska was the mostromantic. Mary Anderson was thestateliest, Ellen Terry the mostpathetic, Ada Rehan thegreatest comedienne, and SarahBernhardt—ah, what shall I say of the Divine Sarah!“If I were to have the choice of one last performance by theone actressI admire the most I am afraid I should quarrel with Fate and insist on choosingtwo—Adelaide Neilson inJulietand Sarah Bernhardt in anything. To me, she is, in all seriousness, one of the everlasting wonders of art. Her voice was like liquid gold; her delivery was, and is, a supreme example for any man or woman that ever stepped on a stage. She added a language to all the others. French is beautiful; but French-as-spoken-by-Sarah-Bernhardt is sublime! As an actress I admired her most in the pre-Sardou plays; but she is great in everything. She has always practised one of the great truths your dear father taught—that the art of acting is the art ofexpressionnotrepression. I consider that she is the bestlistenerI ever saw—and very few except stage managers know how difficult it is to seem to listen for the first times to speeches which have been heard over and over again, sometimes for many years. She is always mistress of the scene. It is a dramatic education just to watch her. She could play ‘quiet’ scenes as well as anybody else—if not better. But when it came to the great emotional outbursts Sarah Bernhardt could always make them and make them so that she brought her audience right up on their feet. A good deal of the so-called ‘repressed school’ of acting is not art but artifice—mere trickery. Many players of that school ‘repress’ because they haven’t got anything to give out—they make a virtue of necessity and dodge what they cannot do. Sarah Bernhardt never tried to dodge anything and she never needed to, because she never undertook anything she could not do superbly. As to the secret of her wonderful success and great career that you hear people talk so much about, it is simply this: She loves her work.
“The Belasco Theatre, New York,“May 31, 1918.
“My dear Jefferson Winter:—
“You ask me to tell you who, of all the players I have ever seen, is my favorite. My, but that is a hard question to answer! In fact, I don’t think Icananswer with just a name. I have so many favorites! It is a case of ‘Not that I love Cæsar less but Rome more!’ And then, too, I have seen and known so many players of so many different kinds—ofallkinds—and our moods vary. As I look back into my memory and try to call up the actors and actresses of the Past it seems to me that John McCullough was the mostlovableas a man and, in the great, heroic parts, the most satisfying as an actor. Barrett was the mostambitious; Booth was the mostpowerfulandinteresting; Owens was thefunniestman I ever saw, and after him Raymond; Wallack was the mostpolishedandcourtly; Salvini was the mostimposing; Irving the mostintellectualanddominating; Mansfield the mosterratic—and all of them were great actors and each of them, I think, was my special favorite! But if I could see only one more theatrical performance and had to choose which one of those actors I would see, I think I would choose Edwin Booth inKing Richard the Third.
“Of the women—Adelaide Neilson was easily the mostwinsomeandpassionate. Modjeska was the mostromantic. Mary Anderson was thestateliest, Ellen Terry the mostpathetic, Ada Rehan thegreatest comedienne, and SarahBernhardt—ah, what shall I say of the Divine Sarah!
“If I were to have the choice of one last performance by theone actressI admire the most I am afraid I should quarrel with Fate and insist on choosingtwo—Adelaide Neilson inJulietand Sarah Bernhardt in anything. To me, she is, in all seriousness, one of the everlasting wonders of art. Her voice was like liquid gold; her delivery was, and is, a supreme example for any man or woman that ever stepped on a stage. She added a language to all the others. French is beautiful; but French-as-spoken-by-Sarah-Bernhardt is sublime! As an actress I admired her most in the pre-Sardou plays; but she is great in everything. She has always practised one of the great truths your dear father taught—that the art of acting is the art ofexpressionnotrepression. I consider that she is the bestlistenerI ever saw—and very few except stage managers know how difficult it is to seem to listen for the first times to speeches which have been heard over and over again, sometimes for many years. She is always mistress of the scene. It is a dramatic education just to watch her. She could play ‘quiet’ scenes as well as anybody else—if not better. But when it came to the great emotional outbursts Sarah Bernhardt could always make them and make them so that she brought her audience right up on their feet. A good deal of the so-called ‘repressed school’ of acting is not art but artifice—mere trickery. Many players of that school ‘repress’ because they haven’t got anything to give out—they make a virtue of necessity and dodge what they cannot do. Sarah Bernhardt never tried to dodge anything and she never needed to, because she never undertook anything she could not do superbly. As to the secret of her wonderful success and great career that you hear people talk so much about, it is simply this: She loves her work.
Photographed by Rochlitz StudioBelasco’s Collection.SARAH BERNHARDT
Photographed by Rochlitz StudioBelasco’s Collection.SARAH BERNHARDT
Photographed by Rochlitz StudioBelasco’s Collection.
SARAH BERNHARDT
When man, woman, or childloveswhat they are doing, the doing of it is to them like God’s sunlight to the flowers, it keeps them alive and makes them beautiful.“Much as I admire Mme. Bernhardt as an actress I think I admire her most as a woman. She sets an example of pluck and perseverance for all of us, and I have always been very solicitous of her good opinion. She has come to see several of my productions and her approval has meant much to me. I once gave a special performance of ‘Adrea’ for her,[9]because that was the only way she could get to see it and her admiration and applause I regard as the highest honor.“Last Christmas I sent her a telegram which I should like to give you. This is it:
When man, woman, or childloveswhat they are doing, the doing of it is to them like God’s sunlight to the flowers, it keeps them alive and makes them beautiful.
“Much as I admire Mme. Bernhardt as an actress I think I admire her most as a woman. She sets an example of pluck and perseverance for all of us, and I have always been very solicitous of her good opinion. She has come to see several of my productions and her approval has meant much to me. I once gave a special performance of ‘Adrea’ for her,[9]because that was the only way she could get to see it and her admiration and applause I regard as the highest honor.
“Last Christmas I sent her a telegram which I should like to give you. This is it:
“‘Dear and adored friend:—“‘May God be good to you this coming year, may you have a bright and happy Christmas, and may your glorious spirit remain with us for many years to come. We all admire your courage and your genius and love to call you “The Great Woman” of our century!’
“‘Dear and adored friend:—
“‘May God be good to you this coming year, may you have a bright and happy Christmas, and may your glorious spirit remain with us for many years to come. We all admire your courage and your genius and love to call you “The Great Woman” of our century!’
“Her reply is one of my most valued treasures:
“‘I cannot express to you sufficiently my appreciation of your adorable messages. I have long been an admirer and friend of yours. My one regret is that I have never played under your direction. That will be for another planet!“‘All my heart devoted,“‘Sarah Bernhardt.’
“‘I cannot express to you sufficiently my appreciation of your adorable messages. I have long been an admirer and friend of yours. My one regret is that I have never played under your direction. That will be for another planet!
“‘All my heart devoted,“‘Sarah Bernhardt.’
“Yes, my dear Jefferson Winter, if I must have one, andonly one, favorite player, I am quite sure it must be Mme. Sarah Bernhardt, in whom the Spirit of Courage, the Spirit of Youth, the Spirit of France, and the Spirit of Art are all united.“Faithfully,“David Belasco.”
“Yes, my dear Jefferson Winter, if I must have one, andonly one, favorite player, I am quite sure it must be Mme. Sarah Bernhardt, in whom the Spirit of Courage, the Spirit of Youth, the Spirit of France, and the Spirit of Art are all united.
“Faithfully,“David Belasco.”
“In all my years of work in the Theatre I have never done anything with which I was wholly satisfied—and I never shall do so. It is the irony of Fate that we live only long enough to learn how, and then die before we can make use of the knowledge!”
“If I were asked what proportion of the aspirants for the Stage who apply to me for advice will ultimately become great artists, I should answer: ‘One in two thousand.’”
“The good stage manager is born—like the good actor. It [stage management] is, in itself, a special gift and cannot be acquired by training.”
“When I can think more with my head and less with my heart the world will think me wise—and I shall know myself a fool!”
“The eyes of the heart see quickly and judge rightly.”
“I think Dreams are the only Realities of Life—and Love is their soul.”
“My world is a small one, of my own making; a world of faith and dreams—and that’s why there are so few people in it!”
“When we are not physically well, the thoughts follow the line of least resistance—if the Will allows them to; but theWill isMaster, and whatever we wish to be, whatever we wish to do, whatever we wish to get, wecanget, we canbeanddo, bywillingit. So it is that you will be happy; so it is that you will do wonderful things with your life; so it is that you will get into the Castle of your Dreams.”
“For women, marriage is the greatest of all careers: therefore, do not try to mix any of the others with it!”
About Flaubert and de Maupassant: “Both of them are of the realistic school, and all students of human nature should read and reread them, for they are well worth thought and study. The joys and ills of life are so graphically portrayed that one may almost hear the souls of many women weep in their pages. Many of their women you will find frail and erring, but the light of love shines through nearly all their mistakes, hallowing them, and whether they be beautifully human, or just inhumanly beautiful, they are always women.”
“Actors are prone to think too much of themselves and too much of the affairs of other people. Gossip and frivolity in the theatre have killed many a promising career. The first maxim I would teach all beginners on the stage is this, by Augustin Daly.
‘A sure way to Success—Mind your business:A sure way to Happiness—Mind your own business!’
‘A sure way to Success—Mind your business:A sure way to Happiness—Mind your own business!’
‘A sure way to Success—Mind your business:A sure way to Happiness—Mind your own business!’
I read that on a sign in the waiting room of Daly’s Theatre, more than thirty-five years ago, and I made up my mind if ever I had a theatre of my own I’d put it up where my actors could see it,—and I did. It’s over the Call Board at my theatre now. The second maxim I would teach actors is this: ‘Never fake on the stage. The public will always catch you and never forgive you!’”
“The day of the drunken actor, like that of the drunken statesman and the drunken doctor, has gone forever.”
“Try with all your might to think sweet and happy thoughts—and in time you will come to have faith in real things and so will understand life.”
“Life is very short, and happiness an elusive will-o’-the-wisp—a wraith of the night of Time who beckons and beckons, and when we try to follow him, escapes us very easily.”
“The ‘star’ actors of to-day lack that careful schooling and full equipment conspicuous in all the great ‘stars’ of twenty-five, thirty, fifty years ago, and which is to be acquired only through the old-time stock system. According to the method of those days, it was never possible for the actor to play the same part many times in succession. He was obliged to demonstrate ability not only in many parts but through a period of many years, and thus to establish himself deservedly in the good opinion of the public.... I doubt whether any of the young ‘stars’ could play as many and as great a variety of parts and play them as well as the ‘stars’ of former days,—although striking successes are made repeatedly in characters especially written for some particular ‘star.’ ...”
“In the old days we frequently produced plays with hardly anything at all to enhance them, either scenery or properties, but merely by a judicious use of clothes and lighting we made them effective: we did this because we did not have means to do them correctly. Nowadays, productions so made are hailed as novelties and the wonders of the age!”
“I maintain that the great thing, the essential thing, for a producer is to createIllusionandEffect. The supreme object in all my work has been to get near to nature; tomake my atmosphere asrealas possible, when I am dealing with a drama or a comedy of life. In mounting a fantastic play there is but one thing to do, and that is to be as fantastic as possible. And so, in a realist play to be as realistic as possible. And by this I mean to create theillusionof reality. To do that every scene must be treated as a separate, a new, problem,—and the setting of it so as to create illusion is a problem that will never be solved by the ‘new art.’... When I set a scene representing a Child’s Restaurant how can I expect to hold theattentionof my audience unless I show them a scene thatlooksreal? They see it, recognize it, accept it and then, if the actors do their part, the audience forgets that it isn’t looking into a real place. In ‘Marie-Odile’ some benches, chairs, tables, a pot of carrots and a few other things, with the bare walls of the convent, were all we needed. But suppose I had tried to put ‘Adrea’ on in the same way? Let us cut our cloth to suit our pattern. Do not let us attempt to ‘suggest’ a Child’s Restaurant by setting up a counter with a coffee cup and a toothpick on it, nor try to picture the court of a Roman emperor with the same bare simplicity that answers for a lonely convent in Alsace!...”
“After all, hard work, a little love, courage to go on, strength to fight the daily battle,—what more can a man ask?”
Photograph by White.Belasco’s Collection.DAVID WARFIELD ASVAN DER DECKEN
Photograph by White.Belasco’s Collection.DAVID WARFIELD ASVAN DER DECKEN
Photograph by White.Belasco’s Collection.
DAVID WARFIELD ASVAN DER DECKEN
Belasco’s romantic drama of “Van Der Decken” was first produced at The Playhouse, Wilmington, Delaware, on December 12, 1915, with David Warfield in its central character, that ofThe Flying Dutchman, and it was acted during the balance of the season of 1915-’16 on a tour which embraced Washington, Baltimore, Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, and many other cities of the Middle-western States. It has not yet been presented in New York. Belasco esteems it as in some ways his best work. Mr. Winter did not see it. The following comments on “Van Der Decken” and its representation are quoted from an article by Charles M. Bregg, a respected journalist and dramatic critic of “The Pittsburgh Gazette”:
“It is a play so delicate, so poetic in its inner meaning and so weird in its mystery and philosophy that one wonders at the artistic courage of David Belasco and the daring of this adventurous actor who has struck out into hitherto unsailed seas of dramatic endeavor.... The story, which has appeared in the folklore of nearly all the nations of Europe but which has found its most extensive expression in Holland—that of the rebellious seaman who was destined to an eternal roaming of the seas as apunishment for defying God—is not new in the literature of the stage. In Opera and in Drama it has appeared under various guises; but to David Belasco and to David Warfield has been left the task of giving the old myth a new setting. Under the title of ‘Van Der Decken’ Mr. Warfield appears as this Wandering Jew of the seas in a drama of intense emotional appeal tinged with a deep sense of the supernatural. In this new playThe Flying Dutchmangains port and finds a peaceful ending as a reward for his self-sacrifice in surrendering the woman for whom he first sinned. This woman, according to the Belasco play, is a reincarnated image of the wife of the Dutchman left in Amsterdam nearly two centuries before when he sailed away on that cruise around Cape Horn. Thus we find that the elements of mystery and of the supernatural are the main pivots of the dramatic action. To visualize them by stage investiture and amply to suggest them in action are tasks that few producers or actors would care to undertake.... There is [in the dramatic story] a romance, but it is so wrapped up in the mystery of other centuries, and perhaps is not always so clear in the philosophy of reincarnation, as to be appreciably understood. These are points about which there may be sound differences of opinion, but on a first hearing they seem, as a final result, to leave the play shorn of diverse interest and therefore somewhat monotonous in its appeal.“But it is a weird and deeply interesting play in the compactness of the story and in its dramatic rendition. The fabric is so delicate that if it were not staged and played with the utmost care and good taste it might easily fall to pieces.... Mr. Warfield demonstrates afresh the fine, sympathetic quality of his acting. This
“It is a play so delicate, so poetic in its inner meaning and so weird in its mystery and philosophy that one wonders at the artistic courage of David Belasco and the daring of this adventurous actor who has struck out into hitherto unsailed seas of dramatic endeavor.... The story, which has appeared in the folklore of nearly all the nations of Europe but which has found its most extensive expression in Holland—that of the rebellious seaman who was destined to an eternal roaming of the seas as apunishment for defying God—is not new in the literature of the stage. In Opera and in Drama it has appeared under various guises; but to David Belasco and to David Warfield has been left the task of giving the old myth a new setting. Under the title of ‘Van Der Decken’ Mr. Warfield appears as this Wandering Jew of the seas in a drama of intense emotional appeal tinged with a deep sense of the supernatural. In this new playThe Flying Dutchmangains port and finds a peaceful ending as a reward for his self-sacrifice in surrendering the woman for whom he first sinned. This woman, according to the Belasco play, is a reincarnated image of the wife of the Dutchman left in Amsterdam nearly two centuries before when he sailed away on that cruise around Cape Horn. Thus we find that the elements of mystery and of the supernatural are the main pivots of the dramatic action. To visualize them by stage investiture and amply to suggest them in action are tasks that few producers or actors would care to undertake.... There is [in the dramatic story] a romance, but it is so wrapped up in the mystery of other centuries, and perhaps is not always so clear in the philosophy of reincarnation, as to be appreciably understood. These are points about which there may be sound differences of opinion, but on a first hearing they seem, as a final result, to leave the play shorn of diverse interest and therefore somewhat monotonous in its appeal.
“But it is a weird and deeply interesting play in the compactness of the story and in its dramatic rendition. The fabric is so delicate that if it were not staged and played with the utmost care and good taste it might easily fall to pieces.... Mr. Warfield demonstrates afresh the fine, sympathetic quality of his acting. This
Photograph by Charlotte Fairchild.Belasco’s Collection.INA CLARE ASPOLLY SHANNON, IN “POLLY WITH A PAST”
Photograph by Charlotte Fairchild.Belasco’s Collection.INA CLARE ASPOLLY SHANNON, IN “POLLY WITH A PAST”
Photograph by Charlotte Fairchild.Belasco’s Collection.
INA CLARE ASPOLLY SHANNON, IN “POLLY WITH A PAST”
rôleis absolutely foreign to anything else he has ever done, and by the power of his personality and the care of his delineation he makes the part of the ill-fated sailor throb with sympathy and meaning. In makeup he emphasizes the poetic quality underlying the character.... In staging this play Belasco handles his lights as a great symphony conductor plays with instruments, bending them to his will and making them set the color of the entire play. The three acts are set with marvellous care. An old ship sail acts as the front drop curtain, and throughout the play the atmosphere is almost made to drip with salt water. One act is in a harbor; another, on board the ship ofThe Flying Dutchman, and the third is a beautiful little delph setting that is like some old picture of Hollandese ware. In the stage effects, such as wind, thunder, and lightning, Belasco can make old devices seem an echo of Nature herself.... The music of the stage is ghostly and haunting....”
rôleis absolutely foreign to anything else he has ever done, and by the power of his personality and the care of his delineation he makes the part of the ill-fated sailor throb with sympathy and meaning. In makeup he emphasizes the poetic quality underlying the character.... In staging this play Belasco handles his lights as a great symphony conductor plays with instruments, bending them to his will and making them set the color of the entire play. The three acts are set with marvellous care. An old ship sail acts as the front drop curtain, and throughout the play the atmosphere is almost made to drip with salt water. One act is in a harbor; another, on board the ship ofThe Flying Dutchman, and the third is a beautiful little delph setting that is like some old picture of Hollandese ware. In the stage effects, such as wind, thunder, and lightning, Belasco can make old devices seem an echo of Nature herself.... The music of the stage is ghostly and haunting....”
“Van Der Decken” was played with the following cast:
SAILORS ABOARD THE FLYING DUTCHMAN’S SHIP “BATAVIA.”
“Polly with a Past” is a merry though thin piece of farcical fooling, which owes its exceptional success—it has already run nearly an entire season in New York—to the attractiveness of the setting provided for it by Belasco and to the earnestness and zest with which it is played. It was written by Messrs. George Middleton and Guy Bolton and then rewritten under the direction of Belasco. Its plot is conventional, though familiar stage figures and time-tried devices are handled in it with considerable breezy dexterity.Polly Shannon, an orphan, the daughter of a poor clergyman of East Gilead, Ohio, desires to study music in Paris. She makes her way as far as New York and there, having no money, she secures employment as cook and waitress in the service of two young bachelors,Harry RichardsonandClay Collum. A friend of theirs,Rex Van Zile, is violently in love with a young woman,Myrtle Davis, whose purpose in life is the reformation of the abandoned waifs of society.Myrtle’sattitude towardRexis aloof and cool and he despairs of winning her.HarryandClay, who have heard the story of their pretty little servant and become interested in her, seek her counsel.Polly, premising that though a minister’s daughter she is familiar with French novels, suggests that the best way forRexto winMyrtle’slove is for him to pretend to become the helplessly fascinated victim of a notorious Parisian adventuress. Finally, after much persuasion,Pollyagrees to assume the part of the adventuress and, introduced into the ultra-respectableVan Zilehome, she does so with such entire success that not only isMyrtleinspired with jealous interest but thatRexis really charmed by her winning ways and transfers his affections to her. Various complications occur, incident to the attainment of this result—all of them amusing although transparently artificial in contrivance—and as a whole the representation provides an unusually agreeable entertainment.
“Polly with a Past” was first acted at the Apollo Theatre, Atlantic City, on June 11, 1917; and, after a brief fall tour, it was produced at the BelascoTheatre, New York, on September 6, with the following cast:
Excellent performances were given in this farce, especially by Cyril Scott,—a neat and skilful actor of pleasant personality, who bears himself with more breezy jauntiness than most men half his age,—H. Reeves-Smith and William Sampson, both experienced and accomplished players of the old school, and by Miss Ina Claire, a talented young actress, who, asPolly Shannon, made her first appearance on the legitimate stage in it. Belasco’s attention was first directed to her during the season of 1915-’16 when, as one of the performers in a vaudeville, she sang a song called “Poor Little Marie-Odile” in which he was severely lampooned. He attended herperformance, was favorably impressed by her singing and imitations, and engaged her. Miss Claire is pretty, extraordinarily self-poised, an expert mimic, has a good stage presence, is able to assume effectively a demure manner, and she playedPollywith spirit, humor, and at least one touch of feeling.
“Tiger Rose” was written by Willard Mack and then rewritten under Belasco’s direction and with his assistance. It was first produced at the Shubert Theatre, Wilmington, Delaware, on April 30, 1917: on October 3, that year, it was produced at the Lyceum Theatre, New York, where it is still current (June, 1918) and where it bids fair to remain for many weeks. It is a picturesque and effective melodrama, in four acts (the third being presented as practically an undetached continuation of the second), the scene of which is a frontier post in the Canadian Northwest. The action of that play revolves around the love affair of a French-Canadian girl namedRose Bocion. She is an orphan and the ward ofHector MacCollins, a conventionally austere yet kindly Scotchman, a factor of the Hudson Bay Trading Company, in whose dwelling three of the acts take place. The girl, a lovely flower of the forest, is admired and courtedby all the youth for many a mile around, including a capable but dissolute Irishman,Constable Michael Devlin, of the Royal North Western Mounted Police.Rose, however, will have none of them,—for she andBruce Norton, a young civil engineer from a neighboring construction camp, have met by chance and have become lovers.Norton, in the camp where he is employed, unexpectedly encounters and kills a man who, years earlier, had first misled and then deserted his sister, a married woman, who in consequence committed suicide.Nortonmakes his escape into the wilderness and seeks to communicate withRose, his only friend, hoping to obtain her help in getting clear of the region. An Indian squaw employed in the factor’s household bears a message and eventually he succeeds in reaching the girl. But information of his crime has been transmitted toMacCollins’dwelling, by telephone, where it is received byDevlin. That blackguard, who has been made furious byRose’sbitterly contemptuous repulse of his dishonorable advances and who has surmised the identity of her lover with the fugitive, is vigilantly watchful, hoping to gratify his jealous hatred while in the performance of his duty. During the interview betweenNortonandRoseshe detects the stealthy approach ofDevlin, tracking him. After making a tryst with him at a remote