The San Francisco call. [volume], August 07, 1910, Page 14, Image 14

About The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913

Image provided by: University of California, Riverside; Riverside, CA

                
MY FIRST PART
7% AVID BELASCO. Who Made His s<ru> Under -the
*^ Name of Walter Jordan: John Dretu;:Nat Goodwin
and Others fell of the Memorable Periods When They
Garnet Warren
r \u25a0 HE little baothers of the human race attach a
I freat importance to first things. Our first kisses,
sf course, were the sweetest; our first loves thl
dearest; our first long trousers the 'most hallowed.-
. These memories are very sweet.
There is one sweeter — the first, first part of him
who has played many. And if you get your stars in
a right humor (and stars are usually in a right humor
when 6oothed by the benign environment of possible
publication) they will indulge in very moving rem
iniscence. »
• In a recent chat David Belasco gave in the best
I possible Belasco vein the tender memory of his first
part:
"I became stage. struck," remarked Mr. Belasco, "at
a very early age. I know that I was. stage struck be
cause I am conversant with the symptoms. I have
seen them since. Being stage struck I had, of course,
ambition — the saving spirit of that awful state.
"I used to be the prize reciter in_ Lincoln . school,
San Francisco, in those very glorious days. I took
the recitation prize for 10 years there, and a good
deal of m3 r spare time was devoted to conceiving
mj-self the center of large throngs who acclaimed me.
I remember that in these happy fancies I invariably
conceived m3*self a massive, imperious sort of man —
dignified, deliberate, impressive. I was only about 17
then, and at tha^time had not yet lost hope of grow
"'Well, my great piece, I remember, was 'The Mad
man.' Whenever I felt conditions to be. just right
out came 'The Madman. 1 I devoted much time to
him. I was always thinking of new business for him.
I remember that I used to go around among the
antique stores even in those times. In one of them
I bought about a hundred pounds of chain, and -I
. used to fix that to my legs and arms when I recited
'The Madman.' In impassioned moments I would
• clank the chain. I put great feeling into the cul
minating parts of 'The Madman.'
"All my admirers used to say: 'It's grand, but that
boy Davy will break a blood vessel over that thing.'
They ad-vised my father to restrain me in the matter
of The Madman.' Realism finally claimed me to such
" &n extent that I used to secrete a little bladder of red
color in my hand. W T hen tho strong. effects of 'The
Madman* -would arrive the veins would swell at my
neck; my face wouldi grow very red. I could hear
my friends saying, 'It's grand, but that boy will surely
break a blood vessel. He puts so much spirit into it
he'll break an artery sure.' Then I would. commence
to cough, and, under cover of my hand, would break
the red bladder over my face. After which I would "
kick and gurgle "a little. It was very realistic.
• "However, my teachers were impressed. They
thought I was going to be a great actor. They talked
together and decided that I should go on the stage.
They even interviewed the stage/ manager of the
Metropolitan opera house, San Francisco, and as
sured him that God had given me dramatic genius.
I suppose that he must have believed them, for he
engaged me to play in a' piece called 'The ' Lion of
Nubia.' I was an actor at last!
AS WALTER JORDAN'
"In the flush of anticipated • triumph I took the
stage name of Walter Jordan: I thought that it
sounded much more romantic than David Belasco^
"Well, I had to take the part of a young officerun
'The Lion, of Nubia,' and I was all worked up about
it. I talked 'The Lion of Nubia' for several weeks.
I know that I dreamed about it On the day I went
down to tho. theater at 3 o'clock to 'make up.' The
stage manager came about 7, and there was I stroll
ing about the stage, very highly, painted, and - with' a
large mustache and side .whiskers.
! '"Who on earthare you?' asked he.
"'Walter Jordan,' I replied. .Tarn Walter Jordan—
the new actor.'
"'Well/ saidhe, /Walter Jordan, go down and take
all that stuff off and. look like a- human. being, again/
So I went v down and took the big. mustache off and
the whiskers and a good deal of the paint; and I was
walking about at the back of the; scenes very, very ;
nervous, when my; father. came in with three or* four
lemons. He handed me one,' saying, 'Suck this, Davy
"So He Came and Dragged Me Off"
-David BeUsco
suck this.' Well. I kept sucking the lemon and walk
ing about. I didn't go on till the fifth act in 'The
Lion of Nubia.'
"The theater was packed' by all my, school fellows
that night. They filled the scats and were standing
rows deep. T^ey didn't want to see 'The '"Lion of
Nubia'; the} r wanted to see Walter Jordan* act. They
had with them horns and squeaking things. All
through the first act they kept blowing them and
squeaking them and crying out 'Dave! Dave!'
"And all through the second act they called out,
'Where's Dave? Bring on Dave!'
"In the third and fourth acts they did the same.
That audience didn't seem to do anything else but
shout for Dave. The leading lady was furious. 'Who
is this Dave?' said she; and- it was explained to" her '
that it was a-young actor — one Walter Jordan— who
was making his first appearance.
"So finally came the time to enter. I had to come
on with four others, and I was supposed to enter first.
"Now, I didn't know much at that time, but I knew
just enough to know that I wanted to enter — last.
Therefore I made believe to fix my boot at the en
trance moment. - :•':.: 1-'
""'Go on! go on!' the others shouted, and I got
busier than ever with my boot.
"'For heaven's sake go on!' I said: 'I'll be right
after you; I've got to fix this boot.' The stage man
ager pushed the others on. I gave the house a decent
. interval for expectancy and then —
"I came out on to tho. stage — alone. The house — „
which is to say .my school ; fellows — went crazy.
'Dave! Dave!' they shouted; and then, 'The Madman!'
'The Madman.' -
"Now, it was one of those old .fashioned stages
which stood far out. I" walked to the center of it and
bowed straight befpre^me."
' '"Davy! Davy!' shouted the "audience. '"The. Mad
man!" "The Madman!" I turned around and bowed
on the -left side. The audience blew horns and
shrieked. It was like a nomination in a national con- "
vention. 'Davy, ' Davy!' they yelled. '"The 'Mad
man!'' "The Madman!" I turned around and bowed
again and the cries got louder than ever. ' "The Mad
man!" "The Madman!" 'Davy! Dave!' I put my hand
up for silence. They* thought they were going to get
'The Madman' and stilled themselves/ '
"ThenJ commenced my only line: 'I saw the fugi
tives making their way on the left bank of the river,' .
or something like that. An indescribable din 1 arose.
'Give us "The Madman!"' "The Madman!"
"The stage manager was motioning to me from the
• wings. 'Come off!' ; he said. But I didn't wany to go
off. I'd just come on. So he came and dragged me
off. It was a sort of primeval hook. Then the.lead
ing lady tried to go on wither lines, but it was sim
ply hopeless. Tho audience was yelling, .'Davy! 'Davy!
give, us "The Madman!" ' with all its" might. They
held the play up for r about a quarter of an hour."
Finally I had to go on and recite 'The Madman.'
*Then the play continued. ItVas a great triumph. I
got 50 cents for -that night's work. But" T got ; disV,
charged when they gaveit to me. And I- didn't get
another engagement for a year."
LEW FIELDS' FIRST. APPEARANCE /
Lew Fields' first appearance" was at an earlier age
than that of Mr. Belasco.. He had attained the sure
maturity of 9, . and hungered ' for dramatic fame -in a '
burnt cork .direction, -which was the great direction^"
of the time. Burnt . cork was the vogue, the uni-
versal^craze. ,' ; ? ,~
v, "My schoolmate, Joe, Weber, and I were particu
larly transfixed," he- said a' day or- two ago. "We
haunted the London and the; Bowery theater and :
there worshiped at its shrine: Then we would. go 'i
home; and practice/ v-r-I'
"Three months .before .our: debut, we— -practiced.-
Our neighbors underneath . protested at the ; reverbera; -
; tion " of our .double somersaults -and rwe i retreated to s :
the cellar. ' ,r ; - ; .- '; ''\u25a0'\u25a0\u25a0 \u25a0\u25a0, ~^.v.'v'--' \u0084:' ' '". ".'\u25a0>\u25a0\u25a0 .;T' : '
"Now, : our; debut: was upon a New Year's eve. It «
• was to: be 'at^Turn hall, in Fourth'street. Wefstarted^
to rehearse; at : daylight December ;31 - and < coritin-^
. uedtill nightr, We ."were : pcrfcch \
* : ." "Our somersaults • were unexecptionable. our iVonjr a
: very r triumph : of/ songs. \\Vc iiivilcd tiur p:'rc::G to v
witness our first public performance/: so ccriain\\ ; erc>
we of our. fame. Our mothers armed themselves with
bouquets and accompanied us. We warned them that:
our faces would be black and that recognition would
be difficult. But,-; of course, you can't cheat a mother
upon the- appearance- of her own son. Our two
mothers said that. •
"ItJhappened that there were two other boys upon
the program "that night who possessed black \ faced
ambitions also. We: were fifth, -while 1 they came' third.
They somersaulted and sang before us and scored a
hit/ At' this. point and with overweening pride, our
two mothers- rose v from their seats and hurled, the
flowers— -our*: flowers — at tfre ; two other boys -with the
black faces. VThat maternal- instinct is a' queer thing
at times.*' \u25a0- • - . . .; /.•\u25a0
"Then-came our turn. .We came out.
' "I can : remember /my mother sitting there, with
utter, absolute- indifference written upon , her face.
The expression' of Joe Weber's mother was the ex
pression of ; my mother. There might have-been; a
vaguetihgeof. compassion for those*' two 'poor; little
chaps who could presume to follow the wonderful
success of theirboys. I remember all this— and then—
"Do you know what stage fright is? Do you know
"What Will He Be When Re Grotx* \u25a0*
— John Drew
" 1 Made a Dash Toward That Door and
Out Into the Street"
.-O A VI D 8 E LA SCO
Vltcn H< Wai Known\o me
Sligt as Waller Jordan.
that horrifying, paralyzing, penetrating thing called
stage bright? In the whole gallery of horrors, "sea
sickness and visits to dentists arc niild and futile in
comparison. I remember the- words of the • song
which we sang. They were very ingenuous. They ran:
"'Here we arc, 'two lively mokes,
From ole Virginia's shore;
\u25a0 The olcVman taught us how to dance
Upon the cabin floor.
The steps lie showed up how to take
• We'll show them now to you;
- He ; made our feet go flip-flap-flap
Before we wore >' a ' shoe/ « ' \u25a0<%&
"Then was supposed to \u25a0 come the fambui . somcr
sault,,so.splendidly executed in the sympathetic;sur
roudings ;of the cellar. I suooose I must have "tried
to somcrs'ault 'that evening. - It was in the 'program.
But ;the; somersault responded: not. The; seclusion of
the -cellar was unfitted" to the stage. I tried; and
sprawled. VI \u25a0-can picture -yet the glare of the: gas
lights and. what appeared :to -be a million faces. \ can
hear : the i yelH which !w%nt "up:" I can see * the curtain
going'do\vn upon us-— our act not half over.
'-. "Well/ ;I; I -went" home' and /my mother* asked i where
the bouquet was. ,• She wanted to;put it in water. : 'It
was v onev of those presents -^ which you' give/ to/ yojur
wife and which:you- think : might ; possibly- comeiin 1 use
ful for yourself. I didn't /explain, 'whereupon -she
considerately Xdiscussed/theJ poor boy's i collapse— -the
boy that J fell over. ; V- :^" ' '"''•"\u25a0' \u25a0-." •:'"
j" i^He^wasn't 'fitted if or hhe stage/ she' said^ from lier
height \pi /conscious^knowledge/ -"He ought ;tof golto
work/ .Then! my, father' looked sup5 up and said : 'Yes, ; Lew.
I^think^thatyou; had ; better go to- work/ f "He- knew.
;"But f the*' theatricai bee was. far 'too fixed
upon ; me forithat. .The; theatrical bee 'is. even more
r'crsistcnt/thamtHc "presideiitial; bee/ Two nights later
I appeared in "public in t lie . Chatham SuuaVe ' museum^
Weber's ; stage ambitions -were temporarily blighted.
He had/gone to wprk." ';••..- , v
CAWTHORN - ;
"My first i part was Marks, the lawyer, in TJncle
Tom's 'Cabin,' " said! Joseph > Cawthorn ' recently. "But
I was a ; manager before that ; I took out the 'Uncle
Tom's Cabin' show in which I played Marks, and was
fully ,19 at Ctho time: I ; played in vaudeyille 'before
that," but vaudeville doesn't, count. You can't call
vaudeville a part., - - *
"Well;, ours was 1 a tent show, you ' know, and being
19 »I .wasn't" experienced- in) tent shows. At the first
performance six, rows of = people fell down. We fin
ished' the performance/ however, and retired to our
canal boat convinced that all tne preliminaries would
be easy -next time.' There is nothing like experience
to teach/ - ;. j -'\u25a0 • '*•
"Unfortunately, however,; there had been an acci
dent* in the matter of -the canal. All the water ran
out:of it during 'the "nigh tT We 'inquired about this*
and asked /when the/ w'ater'might be < expected to put
in an appearance; again. We found it would take
about; seven weeks, so we made a wagon show of it.
You can't suppress youth. . •
"Now, 'we had a Dutch band with that wagon show,
and tjiat country unfortunately happened to be - a
prohibition one. I "may tell you that beer seems to
bean.unhappy necessity to Dutch bands. So we lost
the members of ours/oneby one. They stated that
you can do many things oh a dry 1 throat, but that jou
can'tplay wind instruments. At this stage I sold out
the show to a man called Sisson, who also had his
troubles. It became necessary to leave dogs behind —
for board bills. At 'each new place Sisson would leave
a'dog. * .'
""Finally there was one dog left and they, couldn'f
leave that, or there wouldn't have been any way of
locating George -Harris. So Sisson commenced to
leave bundles pf things. It was at this point that he
sent for me to play Marks. It was at a place called
" The Nose Went on Crowing Bigger
-\u25a0-..\u25a0-\u25a0*• " \u25a0 :-.*. -•* \u25a0
and Bigger :
At the first Performance Six Kows of
People Fell Down
OA-VtO vWAPFIELD '
' f A"i\«h* ft Age '•£ or ?fw,cniv
Cou ri « » viofi.ih«Umencßn
Maqanne."
Alliance,. in ; Ohio. I reached the town and looked up
the 'boarding- house : at \u25a0•which- the company were
stopping. -.-.•\u25a0 \Vhcn I: knocked I found a chain on the
door and- a woman peering, around it.
"/Have Tybu got a ticket?' asked she.
"-'Ticket for" what?' I asked.
"'Dinner/ she replied. •
" 'l'm" one of the company/ I said.
".'That's -why we put , the chain, on the door.' she
said. 'The members of the company have a habij of
leaving without . payment' after .eating/. Well; I ate
dinner ; and - got ;ready - to) play - Marks, but there were
seven attachments on': the show, and they couldn't get
the canvas, froni^ the -wagonsi So I couldn't play
Marks. You see, Marks;.was m\% first part, though ;I
never. reached the'point'of 'playirig'it.*.' . ; .
JOHN^DREW ' ;V^
" I; will never forget my; first part," said John Drew.
\u25a0 VEverybody . expected \u25a0me to' be so yery nervous, and
\I . expected to be so = myself. . And I was so very cool,
so very aggravatingly cool.l wasrising 20 at the time.
Forimonths^beforejlrhad been eagerly/ expectant" of
my/debut." 7 Of course, , my profession . liad r l6ng since
:been;marked: out. ; for(me,lcoming; as I did, of , a the
atrical; family. .;. : ." .
y~: "But as- week -byjweek, week by week slipped by
I:found myself, speculating t andVgrowingiyery appre
hensive.- I. was -nervous as .to the ; possibility of nerv
ousness upoh'"the opening; ntghtl I grew- so vepyi ap
prehensive', ''-/indeed,'"-.; that , my- mother decided : to } take
[a/part^in^the/performance; I or.; the* purpose of lending
me isomeVmoral support. •
\u25a0j-V. "It was in the old , Arch Street theater, in Phila-
If appeared: first. :;It rwas- my mother's
*ownj(theater,',-and the i for ; the /display of: my
risingitheatrical i ambition •; was' a * piece; I . rememSer,
called^ ' As \u25a0 : Cool >as : a Cucumber.*: The celebrated
Charles /rMatthews V played ; the .principal part, and }1
myself ; was I cast k 'f6rian « important : role.' iI '\u25a0 remember
my 'mother' laughingfatithe; contrast' between 'my*per
turbe"d[s_taite'\u25a0';of niind ; ahd]the r name of the play. Well,
two"dayslbefore^and:l .was "very nervous, a. day, before
and :I' became" more nervous stilly then the' evening,
and— v ',--^-; ; -:.'-; .-"\u25a0',;\u25a0'.: - \u25a0 : i ;/.":,-\u25a0•%/
"I: was. cool a^ ; ice.' \l\vcnt throuph the part^'like a
vc.iC-rr.n. '1 \vh7 'j(7::;c-:ous' thatfcycr.vb'oily l>clu:ul ;w;w
lookinij'l'for Hie: tu.displav. some .wcakncbt. a::d 1 look;
1 ' -': - \u25a0\u25a0'.-, •\u25a0":' '\u25a0-:. '\u25a0 .."'•.; - '\u0084 / '
*i*'n« Tim* V^' His > .O»but
wiin loi W«oer, 'Photograph
toy Sarony. * .
Tne San Francisco Sunday CaHv
a sort of stem delight in disappointing them. I could
see the distinct shade of disappointment on the part
of my mother, who was a little annoyed that tha
moral support she was offering was wasted upon me.
As I became more composed my mother became pro
portionately more and more vexed. The whole audi-«
ence, of course, knew that it was my first appearance
and were watching me curiously, too.
"Then came a line where my mother had to say to
me: . 'What an impudent young manl' She .said this
and then, turning to the audience, remarked, on tha
spur of the moment and in a confidential tone: 'What
will he be when he grows up?' The audience saw tha
point and laughed loudly. My mother told me after
ward that she said this with the wish to disconcert mo
a little. I, however, simply waited for the laughter:
to cease, as cool a3 a cucumber myself, and then con-*
tinued.
"I have often wondered at my unnatural coolness
that evening. I have never satisfactorily explained it,
but I have sometimes thought that in some remote
way heredity, speaking through the dramatic strain
of our family, was responsible."
NAT GOODWIN
' Nat Goodwin's first appearance was of a precisely
opposite nature to that of Mr. Drew.
"I was 17 when I played my first part," aaid Nat
Goodwin, "although before that I had been a reader,
declaimer and mimic in Boston, where I lived. Suc
ceeding at this, I became very ambitious and pre
sented myself at .the stage door of a theater in Prov
idence, asking to be given a "chance.
" 'You look very young.' said the stage manager. ,
"'Oh, I'm not young at all,' said I, with the air of
at least 80. r/ ;>/"-'
" *Do you think you can play a part?' asked he. I
said 'Sure.' with all the confidence in the world. He
told me afterward that that confidence impressed him.
'Here is a fellow who's got. his nerve,' thought he.
'He won't fail through any lack of confidence.' So he
engaged me to act in a piece called 'The Bottle.' I
was to play a sort of light, genteel villain, and felt
very certain of the success I was to make. During
the rehearsals I remember that I* used to tell another
young member of the company not to be afraid, and
that the whole secret of acting lay in confidence^ ' \u25a0\u25a0
•"I got braver and braver up till the night. I didn't
feel a flutter even when the curtain t went up. I was
nervous only when I commenced to speak. Then my
own voice sounded hollow and my kriees shook. I
went through. the first act, but T noticed the other
members of the company smiling. The young man
I had been advisirfg was obviously more collected
than was I. When I came on in the next act I com
menced to grow worse. I steadily continued to do so.
They had continually to prompt me, and the audience
was commencing to snicker. Then the' curtain went
up for the third act, in which T was to appear quite
prominently. I was lost to everything by then till
I heard the stage manager calling my name. At tho
same instant the stage door must have opened, for
I felt a cool draught blowing from its direction into
my face. . I made an instinctive dash toward that door
and out into the street, makeup and stage clothes and
all upon me. I can remember quick turning figures
and laughing faces. But I didn't care. I was clear of
that accursed theater and in a few minutes was in a
train on my way back to Boston.
"I heard afterward that they announced- from the
stage that I had suddenly been taken ill (which waa
too. too true!) and had called upon another member
of the company at short notice to continue my part.
This he did by reading it. I do not believe, in look
ing back over my life, that I ever approached the
'But the Somersault Responded Not
NAT OOODVVIW
Fnm • Photograph oViSar
cr»v. -Tn*«i» Shortly Afigr;Hn
First Public ApDC^ranca;^
same feeling of panic about^anything which I did a 2
rrfv first- performance."
DAVID WARFI ELD'S DEBUT
David Warfield made his first appearance in a part
that was a part inNapa, Cal., about 22 yers ago. Mr.
Warfield was ambitious but "green," particularly* in
the matter of "makeup." He had distinct tendencies
toward realism notwithstanding the, time, the place
and the show. The production, in fact, was no other
than our old friend, "The Ticket of Leave Man," and
Mr. Warfield's part in it was to' portray Melter Moss
a Jew of extremely sinister tendencies.
Now. Mr. Warfield decided to exer^ much; skill
upon the makeup of Melter Moss. The young have
tendencies to, exhibit skill upon, the things about
which they don t know anything. -And Mr. Warfield
decided that the nose. of Melter Moss would be a
supreme achievement. He would make the size-of the
nose proportionate to Mr. Moss' villainy Whereat
he bethought himself of the term "putty nose," which
was even in use in California in that early day
So green swas; he, fhough, that -he did not know the
essential difference which exists between the theatri
cal putty, and the putty of glaziers. He, however
was set upon the idea of the putty nose ami went to
the glaziers, where he bought a large quantity of
honest, commercial, putty. This he sedulously knead
ed -and produced a nose It was a striking creation
and very large. -Mr.* Warfield felt the thrill of the
artist and the men who . do big things. S\t his" en*
trance he was greeted with-; roars of laughter
I ' l ,;f elt ., t - 1 l a . t to* '^."f ?M th 5 P u "y nose was "a happy
?"/'u S t-n M J- * Warfi . eld '^ w .hen I^heard that laughter
I felt thrilled when it s went on increasing: The houTe
began ; to grow hysterical. . Then began to fee? a
queer .sensation— a .soft, -spreading sensation .The
heat:of the;sott.Napa mghts^ was- beginning to affect
the; putty,; which wasmndergoing .the gentle processes
of expansion.;. rThat nose .went on growing bigger and
bigger, Thatnoserendedjßy.going about all my
% c y V?y. factors 'were trying vainly to
speak their rlines.'handicapped :by; the noise of : the an
d je n .ce . and 1 .- their • own laughter. Mercifully . my tima
came to make an exit,- and on doirigsol pulled off till
putty and \ continued «->.u nature!.-" t " , ..
. "I retired •tempbrarih- ir<s;n tK ; r-tp^c after that #> n
sagemcnttcT study -practical m^kcuy."
\u25a0 IOHN DREW
>>v S*r*>
Q«».jT»»tMrn in the Early SO*