While not so brilliant, perhaps, as The School for Scandal, Sheridan’s other comic masterpiece, The Rivals was certainly well-enough
respected for another revival – this time under the joint sponsorship of Williamsons
and The Australian Elizabethan Theatre Trust; a season at the Comedy Theatre
from 25 June 1956. Respect for the play goes
back a long way. It was Sheridan’s first
opus, a “comedy of manners”, premiering in London in 1775 when the playwright
was aged 24. We have from it the
delightful Mrs. Malaprop and the origin of the malapropism, the inadvertent use
of a similar-sounding word for the one intended: the suppository of all wisdom, a member of
Alcoholics Unanimous, upset the appletart.
And as Mrs. Malaprop herself suggested: illiterate him quite from your
memory.
Richard Brinsley Sheridan lived from1751 to 1816. Born in Dublin, not only was he a successful
playwright but he was also a successful politician – a member of the British
House of Commons for 32 years. He was
long-time owner of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.
Although I have made no note of the performers we can be
sure it was an all-star cast of the time.
I have, however, noted the programme’s advertisement for the Victorian
Railways, picturing two blazered sportsman….”We go by train…..because it’s so much cheaper for a team – Melbourne
to Sydney and back, first class with sleepers, for pds 10/10/4 [$21.03]”. One player is holding a cigarette; the other
has a pipe in his mouth.
7 7.
Salome
As a kid I was a regular movie-goer, living a short distance
and a penny tram ride from the city. I knew well all the then city picture theatres:
in Bourke Street the Regent, the Plaza, the St. James, the Esquire, the Lyceum,
and the Liberty; in Collins Street the Metro, the Athenaeum and the Australia;
in Flinders Street the State and the Majestic; in Russell Street the Kings and
the Savoy; in Swanston Street the Capitol; in Little Collins Street the Grosvenor.
They were all of significant size, nearly all with balcony seating. Some had at one time been “live”
theatres. There were no multi-screens or
intimate spaces. The Regent and the
State were huge – purpose-built movie palaces, presented in the “Hollywood
modern” style, grand or kitch depending on your aesthetic. The Regent opened in March 1929, with 3250
seats. It burned down in 1945, but was
restored with its full pre-1945 bling, and is still functioning today, although
now with a mere 2162 seats. The State,
of similar vintage, was a little larger, with 3371 seats – subsequently
bastardised by being split into two theatres, upper the Forum and lower the Rapallo,
although much of the décor remains.
All of this is by way of lead-up to the Palais Theatre,
located not in the Melbourne city centre, but on the foreshore of Port Phillip
at St. Kilda, some six kilometres from the city. The Palais was built as a movie venue in
1927, and opened a bit over a year before the Regent. It had and has just under 3000 seats, and is
the largest in Australia. The theatre’s
imposing size is enhanced by its free-standing location on an island site, and
by its art deco façade. Through
far-sighted planning the Palais was built with a wide proscenium stage, an
orchestral pit, and full backstage facilities; in other words, from the outset
it was capable of presenting theatre as well as movies.
And so, in April of 1960, the Palais welcomed Joan Hammond
back to Australia for a two-production opera season of Madame Butterfly and Salome;
singing the name roles, obviously. I say
obviously a little with tongue in cheek: Hammond was 48 at the time, whereas
Butterfly as written was 15, and the original Biblical Salome was “a girl”.
Nobody would expect Salome to be sung by a teenager: the role requires a voice
honed by years of operatic training and experience. It is simply a given that the soprano must be
a mature person. Disbelief has to be
suspended. Not so readily, however, when
it comes to the Dance of the Seven Veils,
the sexually charged highpoint where Salome seduces Herod into rewarding her
with John the Baptist’s head on a plate.
Some sopranos have used a double for the nine minutes of dancing and
unveiling but, as Hammond points out in her autobiography, A Voice, A Life, this is far from ideal – because the changeover,
however well executed, invariably jars: aside from the physical dissimilarities there
is no space in the music for the dancer to leave the stage unobtrusively. Hammond, a woman quite ample, bravely did her
own thing.
Hammond, was more than the expatriate returning - she was an
exceptional soprano. She trained in
Sydney and in Vienna, the latter courtesy of a scholarship provided by the wife
of the New South Wales Governor (partly in recognition of Hammond’s success as
the State junior champion golfer). Known best in Australia for her operatic
recordings, she had an extensive European career, and a wide repertoire. She sang at the Royal Opera House, at the Bolshoi,
at La Scala and at the Vienna Opera House.
And here she was at the Palais!
What had originated as a few lines in the Bible had expanded
into the 1892 play by Oscar Wilde, then the 1905 Richard Strauss opera. The opera had never before been staged in
Australia, and the Elizabethan Theatre Trust Opera Company toured it through
the State capitals from March through July 1960. At the Palais in April, the Victorian
Symphony Orchestra was in the pit. It
was quite an occasion, and I was grateful that a university friend had been
alert enough to make the arrangements.
In addition to the operatic credits the programme invited us
to The Graham, Melbourne’s newest hotel, at 67 Swanston Street, where “a meal
becomes an occasion”; and tantalisingly asked us why women everywhere prefer Prestige hosiery and lingerie. The answer was supposed to be
self-evident. And a Pelaco “Fractional
Fitt” shirt was extolled as “the natural choice for Office or Opera”, accompanied
by the then Pelaco slogan: “It is indeed a lovely shirt sir!”
p.s. On reflection, I
may have let my disquiet at Joan Hammond’s appearance as a dancer overshadow my
respect for her as a singer and operatic artist. I have been a lifelong admirer, and the
playing of Hammond discs – which happens around here more than occasionally –
reinforces my view that her voice was one for the ages. Not only was Hammond comfortable in the
standard Puccini and Verdi soprano repertoire, but in Salome she tackled a role
as demanding as Wagner’s Brunhilde and Isolde, a role requiring artistry,
stamina and volume: the power of a dramatic soprano wrapped in the sound of a
young woman. Given these
accomplishments, the dance sequence is not all that important.
8. Stars of the Paris Opera Ballet Company
In August 1967 I was a fledgling accountant and taxation
adviser, and one of my more interesting assignments was to prepare the
Australian income tax returns for the cast members of the visiting Paris Opera
Ballet Company. The then law required
all persons about to leave Australia to obtain a certificate from the taxation
authorities to the effect that they had settled any taxes owing and that there
was no objection to their departure. It
was an offence for any “charterer” to transport a person from Australia without
such certificate. A certificate would
not be issued if the authorities believed that income tax was owing and would
not be paid. With 2015 hindsight,
imagine the inconvenience of such a system:
business executives on flying visits, lining up at the Taxation
Department, then the dash to the airport.
There were, in fact, tax exemptions for many visiting
business people and other short-term visitors, but not for entertainers and
sportspeople. So Taxation Department officials circled the Australian
Open, test cricket matches, and theatreland like sharks. I do exaggerate. In reality the onus was placed on theatre
management and entrepreneurs to ensure that theatrical visitors and artists
physically lodged taxation returns before leaving the country, and to guarantee
payment of the tax that had to be deducted under the employer tax withholding
system. Such was the case with the
dancers of the Paris Opera Ballet Company and entrepreneur James Laurie.
Laurie was an expatriate Australian, and had previously
imported other touring companies. I
fancy that his passion exceeded his common sense, and that – to date - his had
not been a financially successful career. But he believed that the Paris Opera
Ballet Company tour was to change all that.
Through some contact that Laurie had with my office, we were engaged to
handle the tax affairs of the dancers (but not Laurie, nor his management
company), and I was the pointy end of the contact. I ascertained the particulars for each
dancer, including their remuneration for the season, calculated the tax to be
withheld by the entrepreneur, and prepared the individual tax returns.
The concept of a ballet company being part of an opera
theatre has no echo in Australia, but the ballet company attached to the Paris
Opera has a long history of direct involvement with opera. Dating from its foundation by Louis XIV in
1661, after many incarnations the ballet company in 1875 physically moved in
with the opera…….……..at the new Palais Garnier (the Paris Opera), where they
cohabit to this day.
And here I was, at the Palais Theatre again, oblivious to
all this history, roving through the dressing rooms before the performance
gathering signatures on tax returns. It
was a somewhat frenetic business, me with no French and the dancers mostly
without English, and them having little interest in what I was about. I didn’t have time to be star-struck; and my
one impression was how small the dancers were.
The ballet programme comprised a portfolio of short works, not one of which
has remained in my memory.
9. A
Midsummer Night’s Dream
This was the second play in the 4-play 1959 Shakespearean
season mounted by the J. C. Williamson Shakespeare Company at the Comedy Theatre. I didn’t see the third and fourth plays, The Merchant of Venice and Measure for Measure. As to the first play: see my earlier blog Theatre-Going When Young – Part 1, programme
4, for my thoughts on King Lear. As
with Lear, A Midsummer Night’s Dream
had the local cast headed by Peter O’Shaughnessy and John Alden. The leads alternated as Bottom. That 26-member all-star cast included a
number of actors whose names were well-known to me. At the time it would have been impossible to
make a living from theatre engagements alone; actors invariably worked as radio
actors, with the occasional stage appearance.
Additionally, there had been the arrival of television broadcasting a
couple of years earlier, and something of a commitment to locally-produced
drama. So – I’m guessing - 1959 may have
been a financially rewarding time in the acting profession in Australia,
relatively speaking anyway. The company
included John Unicomb, Terry McDermott, John Frawley, Jessica Noad and Leonard
Bullen.
10. 1958 Inter-Varsity Drama Festival
I think it’s quite extraordinary that if you Google “Inter-Varsity
Drama Festival” (with no reference to the year), the second entry that appears
on the screen is the link to the 1958 Festival that I attended! Perhaps such festivals are uncommon in other
parts of the globe, perhaps 1958 in Melbourne was a stand-out year, or perhaps
the swansong. No further research is
warranted………...by me, at least – I prefer to remain mystified.
The University of Melbourne’s contribution, on 14 August
1958, was Theresa by Gordon Kirby
“remotely based upon” Zola’s Therese
Raquin. The cast included Monica
Maughan , Richard Pratt and David Niven.
Remember that in 1958 there was one university only in Melbourne (and
Victoria), indeed there were few around the nation. The other participants in the 13-days-long Festival
were:
University of
Adelaide Ladies in Retirement by
Edward Percy and Reginald Denham
Canberra University
College I am a Camera by John van
Druten
NSW University of Technology Kate
Kennedy by Gordon Bottomly
University of
Queensland September Tide by Daphne du
Maurier
University of
Sydney The Infernal Machine by Jean
Cocteau
University of
Tasmania They Walk Alone by Max Catto
University of
Western Australia Yes, My Darling Daughter by
Mark Reed
Most memorable (meaning I have some faint recollection) were
I am a Camera, based on Christopher
Isherwood’s Goodbye to Berlin, and The Infernal Machine, a re-telling of
the Oedipus legend.
Doubtless, a good time was had by all……..with the possible
exception of Oedipus.
11. Phillip
Street Revue
The Phillip Street Theatre was influential in the Sydney
theatre scene from 1954 to 1971. Founded
by William Orr (director and theatre administrator ex London) it occupied the
Workers’ Education Hall, and the sensibilities of Sydney, with a series of
reviews and other programmes. The
best-known Australian performers of that era were invariably Phillip Street
alumni. The review that was toured at
the Comedy Theatre, Melbourne, from 21 May, 1960 starred Jill Perryman and Max
Oldaker. The programme comprised 25
skits.
Perryman, still with us at 82, had a prominent career in
Australian musical theatre, including leading roles in Funny Girl, A Little Night
Music, Annie and No, No, Nanette.
Oldaker, of an earlier generation, ranged further
afield. His career was notable, although
one commentator suggests that he was a diffident soul whose report card would
likely have read “could do even better”.
He sought experience in England in 1930, where “good looks, elegance,
natural charm, and a fine lyric voice” secured work from vaudeville to opera. He later studied at the Royal Academy of Music,
and graduated with the prize for the best pianist-singer. An operatic career was predicted by John
Barbirolli, but Oldaker gravitated instead to musicals. Back in Australia just after the outbreak of
the Second World War, he became a fixture of musical theatre for the next 20
years, including a period with the Phillip Street Theatre. He died in 1972, aged 65.
12. Double Image
Over the entrance to Hell, according to Dante’s Inferno (as
rendered in English), are the words “Abandon hope all ye who enter here”; and,
likewise, over the doors to theatres we might expect to see the words “Suspend disbelief
all ye who enter here”. Theatre is
theatre, not real life, and it is great theatre indeed if it conjures up
believability. Double Image was not great theatre, its plot having set a
credibility hurdle that brought it undone at the first jump. The plot, the point of the plot, is revealed
by the title, Double Image: a man
inveigles himself into the shoes and the life of his twin brother……..including
the arms of his sister-in-law. Go figure
that she didn’t figure; and suspend disbelief, or leave at interval.
The playwrights were Roger Macdougall and Ted Allan, the
former a successful writer with a number of film credits, the latter with no
discernable trace 50 years on. British
actor Emrys Jones headlined for Williamsons at the Comedy Theatre. Jones
was not an established star, despite the programme bio recounting a number of
stage and film appearances. References
to Jones’ subsequent roles are hard to find.
He died a decade later, aged 56.
13. La Boheme
There are symphony orchestral musicians who never get to
play operas, and there are opera theatre musicians who never get to play the
(non-operatic) orchestral repertoire.
The members of Australia’s State-based symphony orchestras are in the
former category. As to the latter: prior to 1967, operatic performances in
Australia were typically underpinned by “pick-up” orchestras, and those
musicians were likely to have had diverse careers. The Opera Australia Orchestra was inaugurated
in 1967 by the Australian Elizabethan Theatre Trust (Opera Australia’s foundation
identity), and then devolved into Sydney- and Melbourne-based orchestras in
1969. Their players can expect careers
effectively subjugated to the demands of the human voice.
Fortunate indeed was the 1957 Grand Opera Season, the Melbourne
productions of which were accompanied by the Victorian Symphony Orchestra
(later re-named the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra). Fortunate,
too, were the orchestral players of the VSO who thereby had their day in the
operatic sun. The Season was staged by the Elizabethan Theatre Trust in
conjunction with the Garnet Carroll organisation.
I was at the
Princess’s Theatre on the night of 22 October, 1957 to hear Elsie Morison as
Mimi, Max Worthley as Rodolfo, Joy Mammon as Musetta, John Shaw as Marcel, Alan
Light as Schaunard and Neil Warren-Smith as Colline.
All the principals were Australian and, with the exception
of Elsie Morrison, all Australian-based.
Morison had studied at the Melbourne Conservatorium of Music from 1943
to 1945, then at the Royal College of Music.
She was with the Sadler’s Wells Opera from 1948 to 1954; and her Covent
Garden debut in 1953 was as Mimi. She
retired from the stage in 1963 after marrying Czech conductor Rafael
Kubelik. Prior to that she returned to
perform in Australia the once only, for the 1957 Grand Opera Season.
Commenting on the production of La Boheme and the other operas comprising the Season, John Cargher
asserts: “The Trust may well have gained
from the previous training and experience of young singers……….but its producers
were still dealing with raw material which had instinctive artistry rather than
any degree of professionalism. They
carried off their performances with tremendous panache, but also with enough
improvisation to give a professional producer heart attacks……..Any success the
company had in 1957……… came from the sheer joie
de vivre of the enlarged company…..the works….gave opportunities for
belting out their best notes for the most effect and there was ample space for
high jinks…….Boheme …….was largely
carried by Elsie Morison and her playful colleagues…….a suitably undisciplined
lot of Bohemians among whom Morison’s Mimi shone in delightful contrast. Her death produced rather more than the usual
flood of tears.” I remember.
Part 3 is somewhere in the pipeline.
Gary Andrews
Loved reading about the amazing plethora of venues that you went to as a young man, and imagining the life of professional musicians..and my Dad the accountant mixing with the stars!
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