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' ! 14 GOODWIN'S WEEKLY. " I
i , THE OLD SALT LAKE THE A TRE
f 1 I
.II By TOD GOODWIN
,
N some of Shaw's, I think it Is in his "From Moliere to Brieux," prefacing
some translations of the latter's plays, there is the story of a pious French
man who, upon visiting Westminster Abbey, knelt to pray and was immedi
ately arrested and charged with brawling. When taken before the magis
trate that worthy asked why one should not give expression to the reverence
Inspired in such a place and the verger replied: "If wo allowed that wo should
N have people praying all over the place."
I cannot explain Just why, but I have been prompted to do exactly what
that Frenchman did on more than one occasion when visiting the old Salt
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I INTERIOR VIEW, SHOWING THE OLD FASHIONED GALLERIES IN THE
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Lake Theatre, and I have always beon particularly impressed in that way when
i on its stage or in the body of the place, in the halflight and the silence that pre
vail when it is housing no attractions. To me and to many others whom I
. might mention there is something abbut the theatre, considering its assocla-
tions in the years that have passed, that is hallowed; something that has come
' to me through the intervening time since boyhood when I was younger and
fresher, until now, when more mature and discerning, I look upon it as a
I lifelong friend, responsible for part of what little education I have garnered
j along the way and much of something deeper what sentiment I still retain.
Perhaps there is a partial explanation for the feeling I and others have for
i the old theatre in Wilde's epigiam which runs, "If a man treats life artistic-
i J ally his brain is his heart," and that is true if his inclination is that way,
1 even though he is prevented from following his bent to. the fullest extent in
't , an age that allows the survival of the quickest.
" j From what I can learn from indulgent parents, my first visit to the theatre
J was in the early eighties, at about the age of five. Modjeska had arrived and
was being seen in repertoire. I was taken to the theatre not to see the play,
j but because others at home had an idea they would enjoy it. They didn't,
1 however, I saw to that, for no sooner was the first act half over than I let out
a yowl of disapproval, first criticism as it were of histrionic ability of the
I times and contemporary morals. The family retreated.
It was two or three years later when the billboards weie placarded with
lurid pictures In cold imitation of what might be seen at the Salt Lake
theatre during the forthcoming production of "She." Every kid in town was
,-w-j 'k, excited In contemplation of what was going to happen in the fireworks display
11L .t when "She" sank to oblivion, and subsequently the gang from the Second ward
$ Mm " s away from their homes on one pretense or another and lined the top gal-
HJf I lery when the curtain rose. As an indication of how all absorbing my inter-
J 1 - est was in the production I even forgot my peanuts, an important part of the
1 j accoutrements of any perfect regular gallery god. From that time on there
I i was practically nothing I would stop at to get to the theatre, and I particularly
H v remember a neglected basement window that served in lieu of a ticket when
n the price was not forthcoming, or when the danger of mentioning the theatre
(1. on certain nights precluded the possibility of making the customary touch for
IB ' the pasteboard.
J, At times, that seems a hundred years ago, but it was only yesterday.
' Then came adolescence, and the idea that one could enjoy the play better
jl, when accompanied by the "decorative sex," and it was in the decade from
d 1895 to 1905 that the old theatre passed through the most brilliant period in
m its history when all of the great actors in the country were seen in as many
great plays; when musical productions arrived with more of the modern glitter
when the house was seldom dark and first night audiences were everything
that the term implied. It was that that Salt Lake waB known as the bes
show town in the country outside of the cities, long before the films wen
thought of, or for that matter, before we had continuous vaudeville; and s
exact were the demands of the well educated theatre going public that evei
the actors in cheaper stock were required to know how to act. Quite a
different condition from that which now prevails.
That was the day, under the old order of things, when there was rea
artistic recreation for the lonely, something few can get in this day and age
when the best in life is seldom pictured on the stage, though now and tliei
there is a flash of old-time genius that can inspire without outward expressioi
necessarily by those who deeply feel. There is no craft like the actors in its
variety of appeal and for those who saw and know the great artists of othei
days, those who in their maturity have learned the difference between livini
and existing, there are joyous recollections for the opportunities afforded ant
tears for the present generation that can know so little of the speaking stage
No matter what their tendencies may be, how deeply pathos may affect them
how much romance is in their souls, or how acute their sense of humor, it Is
utterly impossible for them to be affected by most of the amusements of tlu
day as were those who had reached an age of appreciation when the theatre
was in its heyday. i
Picturing the protagonists of my dreams in retrospective, while thinkini
back over the old Salt Lake Theatre days, innumerable figures are faintlj
limned in long procession. Grave or gay they are, sober and fantastic a mot
ley troupe of mummers in colorful array. "Hamlet," "D'Artagnan," "Beat
Brummel," "Friar Tuck," "Rudolfo," "Hedda Gabler," "Francois Villon," "Davii
Harum," "Zaza," "Carmen," "Du Barry, "The Squaw Man," "The Virginian,'
"Othello," "Broadway Jones," "Disraeli" the list is almost endless in swiftlj
crowding memories. And those who gave the characters to us are even mori
numerous, and those who are alive are scattered all over the world.
Booth and Barrett, gone; Richard Mansfield, the greatest of a more mod
ern school, has passed, and many another who was wont to make us laugh o
cry, has joined the great majority. But a surprisingly large number of thi
older actors and actresses have survived to the present time, and practicall)
all of those who bear famous stage names and who have come into promi
nence within the last twenty years are living. E. H. Sothern, Frederick Wards
DeWolf Hopper, John Drew, David Warfield, Eddie Foy, Lillian Russell, Henr
H. Crane, John Mason, Anna Pavlowa, Theodore Roberts, Dustin Farnum, Rict
ard Bennett, George Arliss, Nazimova, Fritzi Scheff, Billie Burke, Margare
Anglin, Mrs. Langtry, all the Barrymores, Blanche Bates, Isabel Irving, Ba
ney Barnard, George M. Cohan, Al Jolson, our own Maud Adams, Ada Dwye
and Julia Dean, and scores of others who from time to time have occupic
the green room preparatory to letting Salt Lakers look up at the stars.
Seemingly all have left something of themselves and the characters the
Miller, Willy Collier, Nat Goodwin, Wilton Lackaye, Chauncey Olcott, Williai
showed us in the playhouse, and so if in absorbing the classics given to thei
music of their songs, something has come of it all that has resulted in genuir
affection for the old Salt Lake Theatre, I think it is small wonder, and so i
scores of others who feel as I do and who have known it and loved it throug
the years.
THE PROSENIUM ARCH, AT THE SALT LAKE THEATRE
