The Australian Stage

Reproduced on this page are three articles from The Theatre magazine, describing the state of theatrical affairs in Australia (click to display selection).

The Theatre - December, 1889
The Theatre in Australia.
By J. F. HOGAN.

Now that the question of official Censorship is being largely discussed, it is worthy of note that the institution is practically unknown in our great self-governing colonies.

In Melbourne, Sydney, Adelaide, &c., the only Censorship recognised is that of the Press and public, and this condition of what may be called theatrical independence works very smoothly and effectively. The Chief Secretary of the Government of the day issues licenses as a matter of course, when the theatres are certified as fulfilling all the requirements of the local board of health, but he never, from one year's end to the other, takes official cognizance of the plays that are produced. The assumption underlying this policy, that the Press and the playgoers themselves are the best judges of what is placed before them on the stage, is clearly justified by the modern development of the theatre, and the cultivated taste of the average British audience of to-day. The moral protection afforded by the Lord Chamberlain's office may have been useful and necessary in the past, but the official Censor's occupation is gone since the advent of a popular Press, a corps of skilled dramatic critics, and an educated play-going public.

I can call to mind but two instances of Governmental interference with the management of theatres in the colonies. When the late distinguished scientist, R. A. Proctor, was in Sydney, he engaged one of the local theatres for a course of popular scientific lectures on Sunday evenings. There was immediately a Sabbatarian outcry against this innovation, and Sir Henry Parkes, the head of the New South Wales Government, notified the lessee that the license would be cancelled if the theatre was illegally opened on Sundays. This intimation prevented Mr. Proctor's delivering his Sunday lectures in any of the Sydney theatres. The other case occurred in Melbourne. Marcus Clarke, a well-known Australian author and dramatist, made a local adaptation of Mr. W. S. Gilbert's famous burlesque "The Happy Land." Like the original, it introduced three of the reigning politicians on the stage, and the lessee of the Bijou Theatre (which was burnt to the ground last Easter) was promptly informed by the head of the Victorian Government that he would lose his license if the piece was produced as advertised. Thereupon it was withdrawn from the regular stage, and produced for the delectation of a select few on the deck of an excursion steamer down the bay. But these are exceptions that prove the rule.

Another difference between the mother country and the colonies in this connection is, that there is no distinction drawn between theatres and music-halls. "Free trade in amusements" is the colonial motto. The lessee of an Australian theatre may treat his patrons to singing and dancing for the whole of the evening, if he likes; and similarly the proprietor of an Antipodean music-hall may produce "Hamlet" or "Virginius" if he feels that way inclined. Each, of course, ordinarily keeps to his own particular sphere of public entertainment, but neither is subject to legal restrictions in the matter, and the result is an elasticity in the popular amusements of colonial cities that is not observable in London. A very common type of music-hall performance in Melbourne and Sydney is an opening dramatic sketch analogous to the curtain-raiser of the regular theatre, followed by an interlude of singing and dancing, and concluding with a merry farcical afterpiece. This is certainly a far more enjoyable and intellectual entertainment, a vast improvement upon the monotonous alternation of song and dance in the average London music-hall.

To show how completely the distinction between theatre and music-hall has been obliterated in the colonies, it is worthy of note that Mr. Harry Rickards, a well-known "lion comique" in the London music-halls, proposes building a new theatre in Melbourne for the exhibition of variety entertainments under his personal supervision. Mr. Rickards has just closed a remarkably successful season in St. George's Hall, Melbourne a building that is used indifferently as a theatre, opera-house, lecture-room, and music-hall.

Not very many original plays have so far been written and produced in the colonies, for Australian managers do not give much encouragement to local writers. Experience has no doubt taught them that it is wiser and more profitable to produce proved London successes rather than risk the results of a confident reliance on their own unaided judgment. Still, in spite of managerial neglect and discouragement, there are some Australian dramas that may one day be deemed worthy of production before London audiences. For example, the aforesaid Marcus Clarke's "Peacock's Feathers," "Plot," and "A Daughter of Eve," are three plays of good literary quality that have won fame at the hands of Melbourne audiences. Then there are the half-dozen dramas written by the late Walter Cooper, barrister, of Sydney, all of which are strong and effective pieces and quite racy of the colonial soil. The best of them is entitled "Foiled," and it contains a sensation scene of a blood-curdling character. The curtain rises on a saw-mill in the heart of a dense Australian forest; a huge log is in readiness for being cut in twain by the immense circular saw; to this log the villain securely binds the virtuous hero, and then sets the machinery in motion; the audience gazes on the hapless victim being gradually drawn towards the swift-revolving saw, and when he is within a few inches of its merciless teeth, the rescuers appear and effect his deliverance just in the nick of time.

At first sight it seems strange that a play like "Captain Swift," which was such an unequivocal success at the Haymarket with Mr Beerbohm Tree in the title role of the ex-Australian bushranger, should receive the unmistakable cold shoulder in Australia itself, the birthplace of its author, Mr. Haddon Chambers. In Sydney it proved a lamentable failure, and now from Melbourne comes the same report of public disfavour. But a little consideration will suffice to explain this antagonistic attitude of the colonial playgoing public. London audiences have only a hazy idea of what a bushranger means, and experience no difficulty in accepting Mr. Beerbohm Tree's poetic and picturesque interpretation of the character. Not so in Australia, where he is known as he really is, a sanguinary desperado, generally an escaped convict, who produces a reign of terror in thinly populated districts, plunders everybody he meets, and lets daylight into whoever attempts resistance to his will. Australians can hardly be blamed for their inability to recognise a sympathetic personage in a character who has left a trail of blood and outrage in their early history. Mr. Charles Warner, who purchased the Australian rights of the piece, and took the part created by Mr. Beerbohm Tree, is naturally chagrined at the failure of a drama that was so pronouncedly successful in London, but he made the serious mistake of not taking local conditions into account. In all other respects his Australian tour has been remarkably pleasant and profitable, and he will return to England 15,000 the richer for his colonial travels.

His young daughter, Miss Grace Warner, who, it will be remembered, made her debut as Juliet in the balcony scene at her father's farewell in Drury Lane some eighteen months ago, has had a considerable amount of practice in the colonies. In supporting her father, she has appeared to the satisfaction of the colonial critics in this formidable array of standard heroines Ophelia, Desdemona, Juliet, Galatea, Pauline, Lady Teazle, Grace Harkaway, Stella Darbishire, and Dora. She ought to be quite a finished actress when she makes her re-appearance in London.

Miss Janet Achurch was ill-advised in making her first appearance before an Antipodean audience in such a debatable drama as "The Doll's House" of Henrik Ibsen. No doubt she was just a little intoxicated by the large amount of incense that was burnt in her honour by the ardent Ibsenites who flocked to the Novelty Theatre during the few weeks that preceded her departure for Australia. But then she ought to have remembered that there is no Ibsenite cult in the colonies, and that, in consequence, the exhibition of the eccentric "Doll's House" before a strange colonial audience would be a decidedly risky experiment. Even in London, the Ibsenite drama has been a very slowly acquired taste amongst a very select circle of playgoers; what then are we to think of the tact and discernment displayed in presenting it at short notice to a people who have never been educated in its peculiarities. Needless to remark, the results of this daring experiment were disagreeably disappointing and unsatisfactory; the playgoers of Melbourne could see little intelligible, and much that was painfully unnatural in "The Doll's House"; nobody cared to pay a second visit, and the "Norwegian Nightmare" was soon compelled to retire in favour of something more conventional and attractive. But, whilst the piece was emphatically condemned, the merits of the actress received full and generous recognition, Miss Achurch being warmly praised in all quarters for the realistic power and subtlety with which she invested the singular character of Nora Helmer. As Mercy Merrick, in "The New Magdalen," she is now packing the Princess' Theatre, Melbourne, every night with demonstrative audiences. She will next appear as the animated statue in "Pygmalion and Galatea."

There is something resembling a "Shakespearian boom" in the colonies just now. Mr. G. C. Miln, an American tragedian who is said to have occupied a Unitarian pulpit in Chicago for some years, has been playing the immortal bard in all the principal Australian cities, with results that spell the reverse of ruin. He is now at the Melbourne Opera House with "Othello" as his trump card. In Sydney, George Rignold, the "Henry the Fifth" of Drury Lane, has revived "Julius Caesar" on a colossal scale of magnificence, and his enterprise has met with the reward it deserves. Mr. Rignold himself plays Mark Antony, and receives unstinted approbation from the host of Sydneyites who now nightly patronise Her Majesty's Theatre. That Mr. Rignold believes that Shakespeare means money in the colonies is amply evidenced by his managerial announcement to follow up "Julius Caesar" with "Henry V," and to produce "A Midsummer Night's Dream" at Christmas. The latter is a very happy thought, for the Australian Christmas occurs just at the beginning of midsummer.

The Drama in Australia. - Jan 1890
Some Impressions of the Australian Stage. - Apr 1892

The Theatre - January, 1890
The Drama in Australia.
By AUSTIN BRERETON.

The Australians are a great amusement-loving people. In no other cities in the world are there, comparatively, so many well-attended theatres and other places of entertainment as are to be found in Melbourne and in Sydney; and in no other country, I venture to assert, are the wants of the playgoer provided for so liberally as in the sunny South. The theatre is the chief attraction, for the music-hall is an almost unknown quantity here, and although high-class music flourishes, it has not the permanency of the theatre.

Little or nothing is known in London of this part of colonial life, so that the stranger in this land, accustomed as he may be to the acting and mounting of plays in the mother country, cannot help a feeling of astonishment on becoming acquainted with the Australian theatres, the admirable acting therein, and the extreme beauty and completeness with which every piece is staged. First of all, a word as to the theatres of Melbourne and Sydney. The former city, with a population of three-hundred-and-eighty-thousand, has two first-class theatres, the Princess Theatre and the Theatre Royal. Until recently, it had a third first-class house, the Bijou, which was destroyed by fire last Easter. It is, however, being rebuilt, and the new building will be opened in February next. Melbourne has also two "popular" theatres, the Alexandra, a vast building, and the Opera House. These five theatres are constantly open, and they invariably do such good business as would make an English theatrical manager open his eyes very wide indeed. Sydney, whose inhabitants number three-hundred-and-fifty-odd-thousand, has, likewise, three high-class theatres, the Theatre Royal, Her Majesty's, and the Criterion. In addition, it has the Opera House, an ill-conditioned, out-of-the-way place, the Gaiety, a dusty little house, and the Standard.

The latter is small and pretty, but, like the Gaiety, it is not frequented by the best order of people. Melbourne and Sydney, it will thus be seen, are each provided with three first-class theatres - counting the Bijou as one of them - as well as other theatres of secondary note. Brisbane, the population of which is seventy-three-thousand, has two first-class houses, the Opera House, a new and magnificent building, and the Gaiety. Adelaide, the residents of which number one-hundred-and-thirty-thousand, has a similar play-house, the Theatre Royal. It will be understood that I do not enumerate the various halls where musical, conjuring entertainments, and the like are held. I simply specify the regular theatres which are permanently open in each capital of Victoria, New South Wales, Queensland, and South Australia respectively.

Before proceeding further, it may be as well if the managers of these theatres, and their system of management, be stated, in order that my readers may clearly understand the subject. The Princess Theatre, and the Theatre Royal, Melbourne; the Theatre Royal, Sydney; the Opera House, Brisbane; and the Theatre Royal, Adelaide; are controlled by three partners, Mr. James C. Williamson, Mr. Arthur Garner, and Mr. George Musgrove. Through the number of theatres at their disposal, and the consequent magnitude of their operations, these gentleman are enabled to engage more celebrated actors and actresses from abroad than is possible for their brother managers. So that, as I write, Mr. Charles Warner has just concluded a long and highly successful engagement with them, and is now touring on his own account in New Zealand. Miss Janet Achurch is acting at the Princess Theatre, Melbourne, while Miss Jennie Lee has just arrived in Sydney in order to play "Jo" at the Theatre Royal there. Mr. J. L. Toole, who may reckon upon a hearty welcome in Australia, and Mrs. Brown-Potter are under contract with "the firm" for next Easter. Melodrama, comic opera, and pantomime are the chief stock-in-trade, so to speak, of Messrs. Williamson, Garner, and Musgrove, but they do not confine themselves to these classes of work. The lessee of Her Majesty's, Sydney, of which more anon, is Mr. George Rignold, who produces Shakespeare and melodrama. Mr. Robert Brough and Mr. Dion Boucicault junr., managers of the Melbourne Bijou and Sydney Criterion, have the comedy field all to themselves.

All the theatres mentioned are eminently suited to their purpose, both from the stage point of view and in regard to the comfort of the audience. Two of the buildings, the Princess Theatre, Melbourne, and Her Majesty's Theatre, Sydney, were perfect revelations to me. Even among the theatres of London, new and old, they are not surpassed. I have never been in a more beautiful or perfect theatre than the Princess. Indeed, I will make bold to say that, in respect to the graceful design of its interior and the comfort and cleanliness of its stage and dressing-rooms, it has no equal in London. The building, which is practically isolated, has spacious, luxurious entrances and every convenience for the public, while it is a perfect paradise for those concerned with the stage. At the back of the building is a door used by the working-staff, carpenters, stage-hands, supernumeraries, and the rest, who have their shops and offices on the same side of the house, opposite to the side where are the manager's offices and dressing-rooms. The stage-door proper is used only by the managers and the actors. But where is that stage-door? Up a back street, or stowed away in a dirty alley? Not so. It is in the main street, only a few yards from the dress-circle entrance, and, as you enter by it and pass along its carpeted passages and staircases, look at its dressing-rooms, each of which is a miniature drawing-room, you instinctively take off your hat as you would on entering a gentleman's house. The manager's rooms are small picture galleries, and everywhere there is an air of thoughtfulness, ease, cleanliness, and comfort that were foreign to me in the matter of theatres until I visited this one. The stage is wide, deep, and kept in lovely condition. The wide, marble staircase in front of the house, the sliding roof for use in summer, the airy balcony outside, the fountains, the flowers, and the ferns, did not please me so well as did the evident care which has sought to make the life of the actor at this theatre worth living.

The theatre, above its ground floor, has only two tiers, the dress-circle and gallery. It was built on a good plan for not a little of its beauty is due to the sympathetic nature of the scenic art, of George Gordon, who helped in the designing of it. The other Australian theatre to which I would draw special attention is Her Majesty's Theatre, Sydney. This is a new, handsome, and vast building. It is capable of holding an enormous number of people, and its stage is as large as that of Drury Lane. It has in addition to its dress-circle and gallery, a family circle, and to see it full of delighted people, as I saw it upon a recent occasion, is to imagine oneself at Drury Lane on Boxing Night. Other large theatres are the Royal, Melbourne, and the Royal, Sydney. Electric light is the common form of illumination, and programmes are absolutely free everywhere. The purchase of your seat is your first and last expense in connection with the theatre, although the cloak-room attendant is not above accepting a small recognition of his or her attention. But even that is quite a voluntary matter. And what is the price of that seat, it may be asked? The highest price of admission, be it stated, is the modest sum of five shillings, which entitles the purchaser to a reserved seat in the dress-circle, the fashionable part of the house. Excepting in the case of the Princess Theatre, where there are a few reserved stalls at five shillings, and on special occasions, such as a benefit, the ground floor is invariably occupied by unreserved seats at three shillings each, the price of admission to the gallery being one shilling. It is marvellous how, with this low scale of charges, the receipts mount up. The smallest of the principal theatres enumerated by me holds over two hundred pounds, at average prices, while the taking of the larger houses are frequently from two hundred and fifty to three hundred pounds.

Evening dress, save at the Princess Theatre, is not greatly indulged in, but it is gradually coming more into use. For -the reason that, with few exceptions, there are no bars within the actual theatre walls, there is not so much drinking between the acts as in England, but in the intervals most of the men make a stampede - for the exterior of the theatre, be it noted there - to indulge in a cigarette. Men have, also, been known to visit a neighbouring "hotel," as the public-houses are called here, there to consume whisky and soda water. I do not wish to imply that drinking between the acts is not a common custom with the gentlemen here, but it is not, probably from the fact that it is not so convenient, nearly so prevalent as at home.

As for a lady, if she were merely to suggest a little "light refreshment" during the evening, I should not be surprised if the earth opened and swallowed her up. We are, outwardly at any rate, extremely circumspect in this country, and I fancy the guilty weight of him who goes out to "see a man" during the progress of a play must be akin to that borne by an assassin. One fact that strikes me very forcibly, and which impresses me more and more with experience, is the youthful nature of the Australian audience. Middle-aged and elderly people are decidedly in the minority, and many of the young people who habitually attend the theatres are of the gentler sex, so that the manager has to be particular in his fare lest he offend paterfamilias. For parents here encourage the play-house, and, by freely consenting to their children seeing stage works, an influence of great good is exercised on the drama.

Managers are careful in their productions, while the enthusiasm of youth is a fine stimulus to the actor. Another feature of the Australian audience is the theatre party, which enables a gentleman who cannot return a family dinner to dispense with his obligations by inviting his friends to the theatre. It is a compliment which is always appreciated, and, as the charge for seats is so low, can be easily extended.

Thus far, then, of the theatres and of the audience of Australia. The former, it will be gathered, amply fulfil their purpose, while the latter is all that could be desired. But "the play's the thing." Ay, and the player, too, not to speak of the scenic artist. Of course the manager is greatly guided by London in the choice of a play, and all pieces which are successful there eventually find their way to Australia. The manager's chief difficulty is in finding sufficient plays. Four weeks is a long run here for a comedy or a domestic drama, and a popular melodrama does not often run longer than that time. Again, authors ask such heavy fees for their pieces that there is great risk incurred in their production, and the only way in which they can be made to pay is by withdrawing them in the first instance before their popularity is exhausted, and then reviving them year after year. There is no native dramatist. If there were, he might make a fortune in a few months. The actor, like the author, has every advantage in this country, where he invariably improves, thanks to the broadening influence with which he is surrounded. He is unfettered by conventionality, and if he has mettle in him he cannot fail to make his mark. He has to work harder than at home, but he gains valuable experience, and he is bound, sooner or later, to get a character which will enable him to show what ability he possesses. Thus, for instance, Mr. Robert Brough, known in London only in burlesque and farce, has developed into a character actor and comedian of distinct mark. I have, seen him play, among other parts, the Scotch professor in "On Change," Graves in "Money," Parson Adams in "Joseph's Sweetheart," and Tony Lumpkin - all admirable performances; and Mrs. Brough, unknown to London fame, has become a charming comedienne. Her Alma Blake in "The Silver Shield" was a brilliant impersonation.

Almost all the actors of any note here are English. There are no native male performers of any distinction known to me. Messrs. Williamson, Garner, and Musgrove's company at present includes Mr. Herbert Flemming, a sound, masterly actor, Mr. Henry Vincent, Mr. Edward Sass, Mr. Alfred Bucklaw, Mr. J. H. Clynds, Mr. E.W. Royce, Mr. W. Elton, Mr. Walker Marnock, Mr. C. M. Leumane, Mr. Frank Emery, Mr. George Walton, Mr. J. P. Burnett, Miss Janet Achurch, Miss Jennie Lee, Miss Clara Cowper, Miss Ada Ward, Miss Maud Williamson, Miss Helen Kinnaird, and Miss Edith Blande, all of whom are English. Most of these ladies and gentlemen hold prominent positions here, and some of their names are not altogether unfamiliar to London play-goers. Messrs. Brough and Boucicault's principal support is found in Mr. G. V. Anson, Mr. G. S. Titheradge, Mr. Percy Lyndal, Mr. Eille Norwood, Mr. Cecil Ward, Mr. W. Holman, Mr. G. Lash Gordon, Miss Fanny Enson, Miss E. Romer, Miss Lucia Harwood, Miss Lilian Seecombe, and other English actors. Mr. George Rignold was supported in "Julius Caesar" by Mr. J. F. Cathcart as Brutus, Miss Kate Bishop as Portia, and Miss Ronald Watts-Phillips as Lucius. Judging from what little I have seen of the Colonial actor, he cannot be compared to the English player. On the other hand Australia possesses two singer-actresses of distinction - Miss Nellie Stewart and Miss Flora Grampner. Miss Stewart, who, though still quite young, is the elder of the two, is an immensely popular favourite, and, best of all, she deserves her popularity. She is just finishing an engagement of some years as prima donna of Messrs. Williamson, Garner, and Musgrove's company. She is of medium height, lithe, and pretty. Her voice is of great range, and her versatility is quite remarkable. I have seen her play Elsie, in "The Yeomen of the Guard," Pepita, in M. Lecocq's opera, Dorothy in Messrs. Stephenson and Cellier's opera, and Yum-Yum in "The Mikado." Each performance was perfect, both in singing and acting, and each was entirely distinct from the other. Miss Stewart is a charming singer and an actress of rare ability and vivacity. Should she appear in London next year, I venture to prophecy that she will make a lasting and favourable impression there. Miss Grampner is a petite girl, hardly out of her teens, but she has been on the stage nearly all her life. Her special charm is the unusual purity and sweetness of her voice. She has all the instincts of an artist, and she invarably acts and expresses herself admirably. She has lately sung and played such various parts as Margaret in "Faust," Nancy in "Martha," and Lazarillo in "Maritana," always singing delightfully, and identifying herself with the character. She has the faculty of sinking herself in the part. She is intensely earnest, and the sweetness of her voice is equalled by a delicacy which distinguishes everything she does. It is not many weeks since I saw her play a boy, the principal part, in a new comic opera, and her spirit, her dash, her brightness, were surprising, and there was never the slightest exaggeration in any respect. This young lady has a brilliant future before her, or I am greatly mistaken. Australia should be proud of two such artists as Misa Nellie Stewart and Miss Flora Grampner, who would do honour to any country. Another favourite Australian actress is Miss Myra Kemble, who is now on a visit to England. Unfortunately I have had no opportunity of forming an opinion as to her merits.

London theatre-goers will be astonished to learn that plays are always as well mounted here as at home, and that not infrequently they are placed on the stage in a far superior manner. In Melbourne I recently saw "A Doll's House," which was mounted at the Princess's Theatre in a beautiful manner. The scene was worthy of the best efforts in this direction ever made by the Bancrofts at the Haymarket. I also saw, at the Theatre Royal, in the same city, "The Silver Falls," the scenery of which was more lovely than that seen at the Adelphi. "Julius Caesar," which is just concluding a run of forty-five nights at Her Majesty's Theatre, Sydney, was placed on the stage by Mr. George Rignold so completely and so splendidly that it reminded me of the Shakesperian revivals at the Lyceum. Here, by the way, let me give a word of praise to the acting of Mr. Rignold as Antony. It was a noble, impressive impersonation, inspiring in its power and tragic force, and, as a piece of declamation, quite the best thing of its kind that I have ever seen on the stage. All the comic operas enumerated by me in connection with Miss Stewart's name were, without exception, more lavishly and more beautifully staged than in London. A special feature of Messrs. Brough and Boucicault's productions, is the scenery which is always tasteful, sometimes, as in the case of "Joseph's Sweetheart," "She Stoops to Conquer," and "Money," absolutely magnificent. The chief scenic artists here are George Gordon, John Brunton, W. Spong, John Hennings, and, "last though not least," Alfred Clint. Some of these names are well-known in England, and certain it is that each particular artist can turn out, in his own line, just as good work as anything that is done in London. Should Mr. Irving or Mr. Wilson Barrett ever visit Australia, there will be no necessity for them then to travel with all the paraphernalia which they take to America. Australia, in the matter of scenery, is capable of anything. The Australians themselves are not aware that they often see stage-pictures of far greater beauty than they would frequently see at home. The Gilbert-Sullivan oparas and the Vaudeville plays are better done, in a scenic sense, in Australia than in London.

One other cause of the immense prosperity of the drama in this country, in addition to the encouragement of the audience, is the manner in which the press upholds it. The two leading papers here, "The Argus," of Melbourne, and "The Sydney Morning Herald," devote much space to the theatres, and, in the matter of criticism greatly guide the public. Both papers are noted for their copious and trenchant first-night essays by experienced hands. The "Sydney Herald," in addition, publishes an "Amusements" article twice a week, on the Wednesday and Saturday, in which local and general theatrical matters are chronicled and discussed. It also gives theatrical news day by day, and on Saturday it publishes a spacial article in which painting, music, and the drama are commented upon and criticised. The paper thus obtains a vast influence over the drama, and its influence reaches beyond Sydney. All the other newspapers in Australia make a feature of theatrical news, but the "Melbourne Argus," and the "Sydney Morning Herald," from their high positions, hold a power which is paramount.

As I write, Miss Achurch is playing Mercy Merrick in "The New Magdalen," at the Princess Theatre, Melbourne, and "Human Nature," has been lavishly revived at the Royal; at the Alexandra Theatre, in the same city, "The Beggar Student" is drawing large houses under the direction of Mr. Henry Bracy; Miss Jennie Lee, is to appear at the Theatre Royal, Sydney, as Jo; and Mr. Rignold will again act Henry V. at his own theatre. At the Criterion "Sophia" is a great attraction.

The Theatre in Australia. - Dec, 1889
Some Impressions of the Australian Stage. - Apr 1892

The Theatre - April 1892
Some Impressions of the Australian Stage.
By EVELYN BALLANTYNE.

In his next edition of "The Expansion of England," Professor Seeley might well devote a chapter to the theatrical side of this development. As Mr. Archer has somewhere observed, the actor has ceased to be a rogue, but he remains a vagabond. His vagabondage, however, is now on a colossal scale, and theatrical life of the present day might be described as a round of glorified strolling. The "circuits" of Bristol, Norwich, and York of the last century are now replaced by those of the United States, South Africa, India, and Australia, and a modern actor thinks as little of a season in Melbourne or New York as his grandfather did of a week's "starring" in Edinburgh.

Within the last few years, English actors have turned their attention to Australia in particular as a promising field. The United States have begun to be looked upon as rather over-exploited, and there is a general and not altogether erroneous impression that at the Antipodes a less exalted standard of art will suffice than in comparatively cultured America. A mistaken sense of patriotism has indeed prompted a certain section of the Australian press to hint at a possibility of Australia being overrun by incompetent representatives of the English stage, and being used as a kind of "dumping ground" for inferior actors and actresses. Hitherto they have certainly had little cause for complaint, when we consider that among the "splendid strollers" who have recently visited the Australian shores are Miss Janet Achurch, Miss Olga Nethersole, Mrs. Bernard Beere, and other admirable actresses; while among the actors are Messrs. J. L. Toole, C. Warner, R. Brough, W. Rignold, C. Cartwright, W. Elton, G. W. Anson, Fred Leslie, Henry Bracy, and Laurence Cautley, to mention a few of the well-known names that occur to me, for a complete list would be almost as formidable as the Homeric catalogue of ships.

A new arrival from home on first entering a Melbourne or Sydney theatre will be a little struck with the familiar aspect of everything. On a superficial view, it seems as if the audience had been transported bodily across 11,000 miles of ocean from the Adelphi or Drury Lane, or perhaps the Grand or the Surrey, for the scarcity of evening dress recalls the more popular theatres. Taking a comprehensive glance round the house he will notice the "seats of the gods" crowded with representatives of the great "larrikin" tribe, the nearest approach to our 'Arry. Immediately below is the large dress circle, rather sparsely occupied. There are no upper boxes, and Mr. Gilbert's young lady of fifteen, who, by-the-way, never seems to grow any older in Australia, has migrated to the pit. The pit, in Australia, is, even more than with us, the backbone of the stage, though for some inscrutable reason these places are called stalls, and the plebeian and uncompromising word "pit" is ignored. There is a delightful uniformity of prices in Australian theatres. The stalls are always 1te., the dress-circle 5s., and the gallery 1s. The first few rows of the stalls are often reserved, and the price raised to 5s. In these reserved stalls (though priced the same as the dress-circle), the French custom is followed, bonnets being allowed, though tabooed in the dress-circle. The shifting barrier between the stalls and the reserved stalls forms an infallible barometer for gauging the popularity of a play, and is moved backwards and forwards in obedience to the rise and fall of the advance booking.

The Australian playgoer is remarkably conservative in trivial matters of custom and tradition, especially in those which touch his pocket. Mr. Brough, the manager of the Bijou and Criterion (the fashionable theatres respectively of Melbourne and Sydney), told me an amusing instance of this. On the production of an important play which demanded unusually costly stage appointments, he raised the prices of the seats in the dress-circle from 5s. to 6s. This excited an agitation which bid fair to produce an Antipodean version of the historical O.P. riots. Even the critics of the leading journals, gravely took him to task for "levying blackmail on the public." Mr. Brough, like a wise man, bowed to the storm, and after a few nights' trial, fell back on the traditional prices. Even Mr. J. L. Toole had soon to give way to popular prejudice when he attempted a higher scale of charges than the Melbourne public had been accustomed to.

The theatrical managers I met were unanimous in their praise of the friendly, though undemonstrative attitude, and orderly behaviour of an Australian audience, especially as regards the pit and gallery. This is sufficiently obvious to the most unobservant visitor. Even the "larrikins" in the gallery seem affected by the chastening influences of the orderly atmosphere, and are fain to suppress their instinctive rowdiness. But though the audience is quiet and outwardly unresponsive, it is not by any means unappreciative. Australian and American audiences are supposed to have many points in common, but this subdued demeanour compares very favourably with the wooden apathy and chilling self restraint so characteristic of an American audience.

Our Australian cousins are somewhat exacting in their tastes as regards imported plays and companies. They will tolerate an indifferent rendering of a London success by native actors, but fiercely resent the appearance of a weak English company, in a play which has drawn well in London. Perhaps "fiercely" is hardly an appropriate word, for the Australians, true to their instincts of orderliness, usually manifest their disapproval of a play, or its exponents, by incontinently leaving the theatre, rather than by any overt expression in the shape of hissing or ironical applause. In this they resemble an American audience. A noteworthy illustration of this was seen in the reception of the Haymarket success, "The Dancing Girl," at Melbourne, a few months ago. It was produced, solely and obviously, on the strength of the favourable verdict of London, and performed by, shall we say, an indifferent scratch London company. All Melbourne rushed to see it on the first night, but the last act was played to a beggarly account of empty benches. It was on this occasion that the critics took the opportunity of making some caustic remarks on the use of Australia as a kind of "dumping ground" for incompetent English actors. The same fate befell the popular farce, "Our Flat," a few weeks later. It was acted by a fairly good London company, but one quite unaccustomed to the bustling touch-and-go style demanded by farcical comedy. The furniture transformation scene was played with such conscientious deliberation that the audience got bored. Something, however, must be allowed for the apparently meaningless title, for flats are unknown in Australian cities. Mr. Toole also learnt the inexpediency of producing a play with unfamiliar types, or an unintelligible motive, when he put on "Charles" during his New Zealand tour. It is a sufficiently diverting farce, but it was a comparative failure. This is sufficiently explained when we remember that according to the generally received tradition, the Governor is the only possessor of a butler throughout the whole of this democratic Colony.

Though Australian playgoers will not tolerate the representation of a London success by a distinctly inferior English company, it is undeniable (pace the dramatic critics, who seem to hold it as an article of faith that a play is approved solely on its merits), that a favourable verdict in London has considerable weight with an Australian audience, who will come to the theatre at any rate strongly prepossessed in its favour. In fact, the vigorous and reiterated assertions of the critics, as to the absolutely independent attitude of an Australian audience, are a little suspicious. These gentlemen do protest too much.

It can scarcely be said that the sense of humour of the Australian playgoer is well developed. The performances of the Gaiety Burlesque Company will sufficiently illustrate this. The most obvious puns in "Ruy Bias" and "Cinder-Ellen" fell as flat as a squib on a damp pavement, and were received in irritating silence, till Fred Leslie and Miss Nellie Farren were fain to force their witticisms down the throats of their auditors by significent pauses, the only kind of surgical operation available. The pit, in short "joked wi' deeficulty," but I must admit, that when they did grasp the humour the applause was hearty and continuous enough to satisfy even a burlesque actor.

In dealing with the subject of dramatic criticism and critics, one is almost inclined to adopt the method of the famous historian of Iceland in his chapter treating of the snakes of that island, and to sum up the whole subject with the bold assertion that there are no dramatic critics in Australia. There are plenty of able dramatic chroniclers and purveyors of theatrical news, but for serious criticism there is scarcely any demand. I do not, of course, mean to imply that the clever and cultivated journalists attached to the leading newspapers of the Southern Continent are incapable of serious criticism, but merely that the public who would appreciate the brilliant or scholarly work of, say, Mr. Clement Scott or Mr. W. Archer, forms too small a minority to be considered. Then, too, as I shall attempt to show later on, there is very little material.

It would tax the resources of a Hazlitt or a Charles Lamb to write cleverly or brilliantly when dealing with the inane buffooneries of burlesque, or the banalities of popular melodrama. Still the fact remains that very little of the critical faculty is shown in the reviews of plays, and these so-called critiques are little more than agreeably written descriptive reports. There is a depressing monotony, too, in the methods of the critics. Nearly all adopt the narrative form, and forgetting the cardinal maxims that the play is the thing, devote a disproportionate amount of space to the actors. A strange lack of a sense of proportion is equally manifest, the critic apparently considering it his duty to mention categorically and conscientiously every member of the cast, not forgetting the serving men and the leader of the supers. Still it must be allowed that if the ordinary critical notice shows a want of artistic appreciation, at any rate it shows a thorough appreciation of the taste of the public, which is perhaps the main point after all. At the same time the honesty and independence of the criticism is worthy of all praise. The fact that it is the custom for newspaper proprietors to pay for the admittance of critics has, no doubt, a little to do with this.

Dealing with the tastes of the average theatre-goer, there can be little doubt that comic opera, using the term in the widest sense and including opera bouffe, Savoy extravaganza, and Gaiety burlesque is the most popular form of drama. Next in popularity comes melodrama. Honest, sensational, domestic melodrama of the old Princess's or Adelphi school, not the modern drawing-room melodrama of the Haymarket or the St. James's, is a safe draw. We are often reminded that the sight of a good man struggling with adversity is eminently pleasing to the gods and in melodrama it undoubtedly is in the gallery. Mr. Archer has defined melodrama as illogical tragedy, in which the hero is the plaything of special providence, and he might have added, alternatively the sport of the gods. The tables are always being turned - now the hero, now the villain gets the upper hand. All this appeals to the sporting instincts of the Antipodean play-goer. Psychological plays and those mainly depending on analysis of character for their interest, as a rule meet with little favour. The Australians are not yet educated up to the so-called literary drama and the serious studies of modem life of the H. A. Jones school.

Of course there is danger in generalisation, and I may perhaps be reminded by those who take an opposite view, that certain plays whose chief interest lay in subtle analysis of motive, such as "Judah," "The Village Priest," and in a lesser degree "The Profligate," drew good houses in Melbourne and Sydney, but this popularity was to a large extent fictitious, and their success was more a succes de curiosite than anything else. Then those who take an optimistic view of the progress in dramatic art at the Antipodes will no doubt bring forward the success of Mme. Sarah Bernhardt, and the not altogether unfavourable reception accorded to Miss Achurch's productions of Ibsen, as arguments in their favour. It is true that Mme. Bernhardt drew fairly large houses during her tour, but it would be absurd to say that "La Tosca" or "Theodora" were really appreciated or understood by the bulk of the audience. Mme. Bernhardt was regarded more in the light of a show like Buffalo Bill or Barnum's circus. She was in fact to the Melbourne and Sydney public Mme. Sarah Barnum. It seems that the "divine tragedienne" herself had a high opinion of Australian culture. At the end of her season a widely circulated paragraph went the round of the press stating that Mme. Bernhardt had cleared 6,000 profit from her Australian tour, and that (consequently) she considered that the Australians possessed a higher appreciation of art than the English or the Americans. The naive juxtaposition of cause and effect says much for the simplicity of the Australian mind.

As for the comparative success of Ibsen's plays, a good deal must be allowed for the curiosity of the more educated section of the Australian public anxious to ascertain what this craze for Ibsen meant. But as regards the ordinary play-goer, it is not going too far to say that the popular drama is that which appeals to the emotions, and not that which appeals to the intellect.

There is no doubt that in a certain sense the theatre has taken a very strong hold of the people. The Australians are a nation of play-goers, and the enormous crowds that fill the theatres from year's end to year's end (for there is no off season), might be looked upon as a sure proof of the vigorous vitality of the drama, were it not that this interest is to a great extent factitious. The devotion to the theatre is of a piece with the extraordinary passion for sport and for recreation in every form. Sport is the Australian's Mammon. In America it is said that when a new town is being planned, the first step is to mark out sites for a newspaper office and a theatre. In Australia a site for a racecourse would take precedence of everything else. The Antipodeans, in short, are a nation of playgoers because they are a nation of Epicureans of a somewhat animal type. Probably not one in ten of these devoted patrons of the stage have any appreciation of the drama for the drama's sake. The ordinary playgoer visits the theatre regularly for lack of any other means of passing the evening agreeably, for there are no music halls in Melbourne or Sydney of any pretensions. The theatre then is regarded as a kind of pis aller (an act performed in desperation - Ed.) , or a recreative Hobson's choice. It naturally results from this that anything in the shape of an "intellectual treat" frightens away the Antipodean pittite. He asks solely to be amused or excited. Certainly an innocent demand enough, but one that is hardly likely to further the development of dramatic art.

Granting then that the Australian visits the theatre rather from necessity than from choice, we need look no further for the reason of the backward state of the Australian drama as compared to that of America. We must not, however, lose sight of the good points of the playgoer of this Britain of the South. One cannot but admire his honesty and candour. He frankly admits that he goes to the theatre to be amused, not to be instructed or elevated. There is no pretension about visiting the theatre from a love of dramatic art, or because it represents a serious criticism of life, and certainly there is none of that highly objectionable form of cant about regarding the stage as a school of morals and culture.

With regard to the relations between Society and the stage at the Antipodes, there is not much to be said. Though the fashionable world of the two Australian capitals are devoted patrons of the theatre, actors as a class take a far less prominent position in social life than in London. This may be due to the fact that Australia is behind the age, and that Society holds the obsolete view that the stage is not a gentlemanly calling, or to the fact that Australian actors are not socially and artistically the equals of their fellows at home. Something, too, must be allowed for the strong taint of Philistinism which prevails in a plutocratic society containing a very slight leaven of a cultured or leisured class. The difference between the attitude of society to the stage in England and in Australia may be gathered from the absence of any articles dealing with dramatic topics in any of the "thoughtful" Australian reviews or magazines, whereas in England hardly a month passes without some theatrical question of the day being discussed in one of the leading reviews.

A ludicrous illustration of the social ostracism of the actor is shown by the refusal of the manager of a well-known Australian hotel to accept as guests Mme. Sarah Bernhardt, and even "our only comedian," Mr. J. L. Toole, on the ground that they belonged to the theatrical profession. One hardly expects to find such transcendent snobbery in a comparatively new and undeveloped country. The morality of the stage, using the word in its most restricted sense, is perhaps rather more pronounced than with us. I need hardly say that the Australians do not tolerate anything in the form of an official censorship of plays. Public opinion, as in America, is the only censor. The absence of any government control works well enough on the whole, though occasionally the prevailing Puritanism of the respectable play-going public is so modified by illogical license that it is difficult for a manager to satisfy the contradictory prejudices of his patrons. For instance, when Messrs. Brough and Boucicault produced "Sophia" a few years ago, the play was favourably received, and pronounced by the press to be interesting, edifying, and so forth. Encouraged by this favourable verdict, and pleased to find the Australians would swallow Fielding, Mr. Brough followed it up with "Joseph's Sweetheart," whereupon the public fell foul of the unfortunate manager for producing a play with immoral tendencies. It is certainly difficult for the non-colonial mind to appreciate the subtlety of this ethical distinction. Again, when Mme. Bernhardt produced the essentially unwholesome play, "La Dame aux Camelias," at Sydney last year, the Governor's box was filled on the first night with a bevy of school-girls from the principal young ladies' school in Sydney. These examples will serve to show how rampant in Australia are the three P's: puritanism, provincialism, and philistinism. Till the stage has purged itself of these cramping influences we cannot hope to see a healthy national drama.

The narrow limitation of the meaning of the word Australia from the managerial point of view must not be forgotten when dealing with the stage of the Southern Continent. In fact, the manager's summing up of this great continent is as arbitrary as Caesar's threefold division of Gaul. To the managerial mind, Australia consists solely of three cities of respectable dimensions, Melbourne, Sydney and Adelaide. His view is not altogether unreasonable, for the provincial stage is almost non-existent. It might be called moribund were it not that that term would imply a relative degree of vitality at some former period. The companies that still tour the provinces might rather be compared to the seedy troupes of strollers Charles Dickens has familiarised us with, than to the well-organised, well-drilled, and perfectly equipped companies that take the field in the English provinces with a London success, within a few weeks of its first appearance in the metropolis.

A performance of a provincial company I was privileged to see at Ballarat is a typical specimen of the Australian provincial drama. The play was a sensational melodrama of the most pronounced transpontine type, entitled "The Parson's Oath." The sub-title, "Life in Darkest England," had not the remotest connection with the story, and was probably an ingenious afterthought of the enterprising manager with an eye to the Booth "boom" then raging in the Colonies. With an audacity that approached the sublime, the Rev. C. H. Spurgeon was "billed" all through the tour as the author of the play "now drawing in London crowded and enthusiastic audiences." This outrageous statement was accepted in good faith by the worthy miners of Ballarat. The play consisted of a heterogeneous amalgam of the most sensational incidents of all the popular melodramas recently played in London, obviously selected with sole reference to the somewhat limited capacities of the stage carpenter and the property man. In fact, the singlehearted devotion of the manager to the immortal principle of Mr. Vincent Crummies was undeniably praiseworthy. I found afterwards that this enterprising gentleman was by way of being a notoriety. Talking one day with Mr. Rignold, the lessee of the Theatre Royal, Sydney, who had bought the Colonial rights of all Robertson's plays, he told me that no sooner did he produce one of these plays in Sydney or Melbourne than our enterprising friend toured the provinces with it. On being threatened with legal proceedings, his colossal impudence was equal to the occasion. He calmly altered the titles, using such weak and colourable imitations as "School-mates" for "School," "Fashion" for "Society," "Pride and Prejudice " for "Caste," and so forth, and went on his way rejoicing.

In New Zealand the drama, though it can hardly be said to be flourishing, is not in such a stagnant condition, for in this colony there is no vast metropolis like Sydney or Melbourne to exercise an octopus-like property of absorbing the play-going population within a radius of several hundred miles. In Maori-land there are half-a-dozen respectable cities of some 20,000 to 30,000 inhabitants pretty evenly distributed over the two islands. Mr. Clarence Holt makes an annual tour of the chief towns, but his repertory is confined to sensational melodrama and spectacular plays of the Adelphi and Drury Lane school. The extraordinary number of amateur dramatic clubs established in New Zealand presents the greatest obstacle to the success of the "legitimate drama." The amount of histrionic talent possessed by these "illegitimists" is a little surprising. As a rule, the performances are quite up to the standard of the ordinary suburban club at home. I remember seeing an amateur performance of "London Assurance" at Christchurch (N.Z.), which was little inferior to one given by a crack London dramatic society. It was certainly far more interesting for the spectator, a person as a general rule deserving of the deepest sympathy. There was an originality and individuality about the acting which is so conspicuously absent in the more finished and correct representations of crack amateurs, whose rendering is usually little more than a clever but absolutely soulless reproduction, and a faithful mimicry of the methods of the last stage favourite who has performed the part.

It is a difficult task to draw a definite conclusion from these fugitive impressions de voyage as to the future of the drama in Australia. Looking at it from the material point of view of a theatrical manager, and considering the stronghold the theatre has gained on the public, it may be said to be in a flourishing condition. But with regard to its artistic development the prospect is not so encouraging. It must be admitted that the social and economical condition of Australia, the absence of a cultured class, the universal scramble for wealth, the inordinate love of sport, and the enormous political influence of the uneducated working man, are not favourable to the development of a healthy national drama.

At the same time the interest lately shown in the more serious plays of Ibsen and H. A. Jones, though to some extent factitious, still shows that at any rate the Australian playgoer is beginning to tolerate a form of dramatic art of a higher type than sensational or spectacular dramas, and what are technically known as "leg-pieces," and that he is beginning to extricate himself from the slough of Philistinism and provincialism.

The Theatre in Australia. - Dec, 1889
The Drama in Australia. - Jan 1890

The Australian Stage (2)