THE ACTORS.
They are a touchy race at any time. Amateur actors are said to have—one and all—a belief that each and every one can play any part of any kind. Shakespeare found that some of them thought they could play every part also! But besides this general error, each actor has his own peculiarities, which the stage-manager ought to acquaint himself with as soon as possible.
It is a painful fact that there are some people who "come forward" readily, do not seem at all nervous, are willing to play anything, and are either well provided with anecdotes of previous successes, or quite amazingly ready for leading parts, though they "never tried acting," and are only "quite sure they shall like it"—but who, when the time comes, fail completely. I fear that there is absolutely nothing to be done with such actors, but to avoid them for the future. On the other hand, there are many people who are nervous and awkward at first, and even more or less so through every rehearsal, but who do not fail at the pinch. Once fairly in their clothes, and pledged to their parts, they forget themselves in the sense of what they have undertaken, and their courage is stimulated by the crisis. Their knees may shake, but their minds see no alternative but to do their best, and the best, with characters of this conscientious type, is seldom bad.
It is quite true, also, that some actors are never at their best till they are dressed, and that some others can put off learning their parts till the last moment, and then "study" them at a push, and acquit themselves creditably in the play. But these peculiarities are no excuse for neglecting rehearsals, or for not learning parts, or for rehearsing in a slovenly manner.
Actors should never forget that rehearsals are not only for the benefit of each actor individually, but also of all the characters of the piece as a whole.
A. and B. may be able to learn their parts in a day, and to act fairly under the inspiration of the moment, but if they neglect rehearsals on this account, they deal very selfishly by C. and D., who have not the same facility, and who rehearse at great disadvantage if the other parts are not properly represented too.
And now a word or two to the actors of the small parts. It is a disappointment to find yourself "cast" for a footman, with no more to do than to announce and usher in the principal personages of the piece, when you feel a strong (and perhaps well-grounded) conviction that you would have "made a hit" as the Prince in blank verse and blue velvet. Well! one must fall back on one's principles. Be loyal to the stage-manager. Help the piece through, whether it is or is not a pleasure and a triumph for you yourself. Set an example of willingness and good-humour. If to these first principles you add the amiable quality of finding pleasure in the happiness of others, you will be partly consoled for not playing the Prince yourself by sympathizing with Jack's unfeigned pride in his part and his finery, and if Jack has a heart under his velvet doublet, he will not forget your generosity. It may also be laid down as an axiom that a good actor will take a pride in making the most of a small part. There are many plays in which small parts have been raised to the rank of principal ones by the spirit put into them by a good actor, who "made" his part instead of grumbling at it. And the credit gained by a triumph of this kind is very often even beyond the actor's deserts. From those who play the principal parts much is expected, and it is difficult to satisfy ones audience, but if any secondary character is made pathetic or amusing, the audience (having expected nothing) are willing to believe that if the actor can surprise them with a small part, he would take the house by storm with a big one.
I will conclude my letter with a few general rules for young actors.
Say nothing whatever on the stage but your part. This is a rule for rehearsals, and if it could be attended to, every rehearsal would have more than double its usual effect. People chatter from nervousness, explain or apologize for their mistakes, and waste quite three-fourths of the time in words which are not in the piece.
Speak very slowly and very clearly. All young actors speak too fast, and do not allow the audience time to digest each sentence. Speak louder than usual, but clearness of enunciation is even more important. Do not be slovenly with the muscles of the lips, or talk from behind shut teeth.
Keep your face to the audience as a rule.
If two people talking together have to cross each other so as to change their places on the stage, the one who has just spoken should cross before the one who is going to speak.
Learn to stand still.
As a rule, do not speak when you are crossing the stage, but cross first and then speak.
Let the last speaker get his sentence well out before you begin yours.
If you are a comic actor, don't run away with the piece by over-doing your fun. Never spoil another actor's points by trying to make the audience laugh whilst he is speaking. It is inexcusably bad stage-manners.
If the audience applauds, wait till the noise of the clapping is over to finish your speech.
Rehearse without your book in the last rehearsals, so as to get into the way of hearing the prompter, and catching the word from him when your memory fails you.
Practise your part before a looking-glass, and say it out aloud. A part may be pat in your head, and very stiff on your tongue.
The Green-room is generally a scene of great confusion in private theatricals. Besides getting everything belonging to your dress together yourself and in good time, I advise you to have a little hand-basket, such as you may have used at the seaside or in the garden, and into this to put pins, hair-pins, a burnt cork, needles and thread, a pair of scissors, a pencil, your part, and any small things you may require. It is easy to drop them into the basket again. Small things get mislaid under bigger ones when one is dressing in a hurry; and a hero who is flustered by his moustache having fallen under the washstand well out of sight is apt to forget his part when he has found the moustache.
Remember that Right and Left in stage directions mean the right and left hand of the actor as he faces the audience.
I will not burden you with any further advice for yourself, and I will reserve a few hints as to rough and ready scenery, properties, &c., for another letter.
Meanwhile—whatever else you omit—get your parts well by rote; and if you cannot find or spare a stage-manager, you must find good-humour and common agreement in proportion; prompt by turns, and each look strictly after his own "properties."
Yours, &c.,
Burnt Cork.