Behind the Footlights

g—Percy Anderson—Ulysses—The Eternal City—A Dress Parade—Armour—Over-elaborati

painted the Egyptian, Assyrian, and other trimmings. She was always most grateful and generous. Money seemed valueless to her; she dived her h

urself sufficiently—you have only taken working-pay and allowe

she

ad designed for her came home; a most

g

me the scissors,” and in a moment she had ripped off all the

t black scarf her dresser brought her over the mantle. The effect was

reat and generous heart—she adores talent, wor

on the stage by the aid of the

to be the “king of wig-makers,” and he has made every

e to write and enclose a sketch—which, by the way, she does admirably—she sends a long telegram from Par

get more time th

ME FOR JULIET, B

the order came. I set six people to work on six different pieces, and at seven o’clock took them down to the theatre and pinned them on Miss Terry’s head. The other wig I had to make so quickly was for Madame Eleonora Duse. She arrived in London October,

n contains one of those weird block-heads on which perruques stand when being redressed, and on every red head rests a wig. These are for her different parts, the block

, where the peasant-girls wear caps and sell their hair. A wig costs anything from ￡2 to ￡10, and it is won

in the house in which he was born, so he was reared literally in the wig trade, and now employs a couple of hundred persons. What he does not know can hardly be worth knowing—and he is quite a

so that she could throw it over her face when she fell at the Saviour’s feet. In L’Aiglon Madame Bernhardt wore her own hair for a lo

resses she has done much to improve theatrical costumes—sh

ere came a day when the hair began to come out, and the locks threatened to disappear. He travelled[Pg 115] hundreds of miles to London to know if the wig-maker could copy the top of his head exactly before it was too late. Of course he could, and consequently those raven curls were matched, and one by one were sewn into the fine netting to form the toupet. Having got the semi-wig exactly to cover his head,

ical pictures upon the stage, and such being the case, artists have risen to the occasio

who have made this their speciality read and sketch at museums, and sometimes travel to far corners of the worl

to say nothing of fairies, require, added to which four or five dresses for each of the chief performers, not only[Pg 116] cost months of la

il the actor-manager who has risked that larg

cy Macquoid. It is an interesting fact that, while the designs for Ulysses cost Mr. Anderson six months’ continual labour, he managed to draw the elaborate costum

house bordering on the Regent’s Park, where he works with his brush all day, and his pencil far into the night. His studio is a pretty snuggery built on at the back of the house, which is partl

hich costumes were most dif

] when the materials from which to work are extremely scanty,

castes and sketches of remains found during the recent excavations at Knossus, in Crete, that have since been exhibited at the Winter Exhibition at Burlington House, b

u manage ab

e, and a terra-cotta-red, together with black and white, were the only tones used, and to these three primary colours I accordingly confined myself, but I made one introduction, a brigh

playgoers will remember. The fron

n that Mr. Anderson had the greatest difficulty in discovering exactly what uniform or vestment would be worn by the Pope’s entourage on important private occasions, suc

o the Papal Court. All orders and decorations worn by the various characters in The Eternal City were modelled from the originals. Mr. Anderson usually makes a separate sketch for every costume

e articles are cut out and made after Mr. Anderson has passed the materials as satisfactory submitted to him.

e Eternal City, but in some cases the orders come from the authors. For instance, Mr.[Pg 119] Pinero wrote asking him to design those delightful Victorian

much adaptation of this sort was necessary for Richard II. at His Majesty’s. Mr. Anderson was about three months designing the two hundred and fifty dresses for this marvellous spectacle. He sought inspiration at the Brit

s parades,” of which there are several, are those in which all the chorus and crowds have to appear, therefore their dresses are usually made first, so as to admit of ample study of colour before the “principals” receive theirs. The onlooker hardly recog

mere wonderful fabrics and colours are now produced. There are excellent costumiers in England, some of the best, in fact, many of whom lay themselves out for work of a particular period; but all the armour is still made in France. That delightful singer and charming man, Eugene Oudin, wore a beautiful suit of chain armour as the Templar in Ivanhoe, which cost considerably over ￡100, and proved quite light and easy to wear.

oduction. At the present time much[Pg 121] attention is drawn from the main interest, and instead of apprecia

ally good performances without their being enhanced by scenic effect, such as Twelfth Night, by the Elizabethan Stage Society, and Everyman. These representations were an intellectual treat, such as one se

idual actors. Individuality except in “stars” is not wanted nor appreciated. Further, long runs are the ruin of actors. Instead of being kept up to the mark, alert, their

this arrangement he is at the theatre every night, and if[Pg 122] the star cannot shine, the minor individual goes on to twinkle instead, his own pa

nt of some sort in recognition of his services, while at others, even good

imes actors go through this strain when physically unfit for work, rather than be out of the bill for a si

ne of those we share with Chicago and Christiania. Miss Fay Davis, that winsome American actress, was playing the chief part in Pinero’s pla

anxiously and wondered what was to happen, when the bell rang,

rapped up in furs, the daring lady started for her work. They did get there after

y eleven, but anyway you must fet

Davis went to her dressing-room, feeling a perfect heroine for ventur

mance to-n

ha

man in the theatre—pit empty, gallery empty, everything empty—so they’ve

several of the playhouses had to shut-up-shop for

looks magnificent, and has played many star parts in the provinces, yet she is constant

the stage. In a ball-room the smaller the man the taller the partner he choos

els?” she is often asked

ly,” is

ind standing

ight

’m afraid,”

my hair low and

l the same,

d “leading ladies,” so that in London, openings for new stars are few and far between, and when the actress, however gre

been engaged for a big part—but when this woman—once the darling of soci

me look insignificant; besides, you