Dover St. Studios
Mlle. Britta
“In Japan,” a delightful ballet, adapted by Mr. S. L. Bensusan, from his story, Dede, with music specially composed by M. Louis Ganne, proved particularly attractive. There was a good story, the acting and dancing were unusually good, and the mounting and stage effects, under the direction of Mr. C. Dundas Slater and Mr. Charles Wilson, were fresh and beautiful, especially the “Ballet of Blossoms.”
The theatre at this period was now again to come under the influence of Mr. Alfred Moul. At an Annual General Meeting of the Shareholders at the commencement of the year 1902, when the fortunes of the theatre seemed once more uncertain, Mr. Moul was invited again by both Shareholders and Directors to assume control. He responded, and within a few weeks was installed as Chairman of the Company, once more throwing his energies into a congenial task. One of his first achievements was to secure the services of an old protégé and a now eminent musician, Mr. Landon Ronald.
From the pen of that accomplished artist came the music for a spectacular Patriotic Ballet entitled “Britannia’s Realm,” in a prologue and four scenes, invented and produced by Mr. Charles Wilson, with dances by Signor Carlo Coppi. It was one of the best planned and most extraordinarily sumptuous productions ever seen at the Alhambra, long famous for the splendour of its effects, and while there were several charming novelties, such as the Pas des Patineurs, in the Canadian Skating Carnival scene (the music of which must still haunt those who heard it), for sheer magnificence probably nothing finer has ever been produced on the Alhambra stage than the Indian jewel scene, and the grand finale representing “Homage to Britannia,” and the formation of the Union Jack. It was a remarkable achievement, and well deserved the enthusiasm with which, night after night for some months, it was received.
An excellent ballet of 1903 was “The Devil’s Forge,” invented by Mr. Charles Wilson and Mme. Cormani, with music by Mr. George Byng. This also ran for some months, and was a charming and dramatic work, beautifully staged, and uncommonly well acted, particularly good work being done by Miss Edith Slack (a clever mime) as the hero, Karl, and Miss Marjorie Skelley, a sound and graceful dancer, as the Fairy of the Mountain.
Before this was withdrawn a delightful adaptation of “Carmen” had been staged, with much of Bizet’s music, ingeniously handled by Mr. George Byng, who had composed some admirable extra numbers. It was finely staged, notable for the strength of the cast and vitality of the entire corps de ballet, but above all for the superb acting of Guerrero as Carmen and M. Volbert as Don José.
Apart from Guerrero’s fine presence, her magnificent dancing, the breadth, realism and intensity of her acting throughout, all of which one could never forget, there were two particularly memorable moments of that production; one was the fortune-telling scene, the other—the scene in which Carmen flirts with the Lieutenant of Gendarmes in order to lure him away from the gipsy camp, and is dividing her attention between her flirtation and the knowledge that Don José has only just been frustrated from stabbing her while so engaged, by the sudden intervention of her comrades, who are endeavouring to drag him away silently so that the Lieutenant who is just in front shall not hear and so discover the presence of the gipsy band.
In the card scene, Guerrero gave in all its fullness the sense of a tragic, overhanging doom. In the other, all the combined cunning and fighting instinct of a savage animal at bay with circumstance, and trying by sheer cunning and audacity, to master it, came out, and it was not acting but reality, the real Carmen of Mérimée extricating herself and her comrades from discovery and disaster by superb daring in the use of her dazzling, unconscionable charm.