The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 7, 1901, Page 2

(&) THE SUNDAY CALL. the prevailin rical people, managers, are minus the mr demesticity are tese facts con d the social side in the lives of some of our well- known professionals Actors may trs n months out of the me hotels will be surely as the vear ng that their abiding-place, but monthe between seasons come around will find them In their own homes enjoy- ing the delights of amateur gardening, farming, prospecting—in fact, almost any- thing that is in direct contrast fo their life work, for it is the country air, the new occupations and the e cise that give them strength vigor to cops mentally and physic of the public for the following season. Many a stage heroine or a matinee hero develops e taste for ranching, over California one can clendas belonging to various members of the profession. Foreign artists are not ex- empt from this love of country life and domestieity. Jean Reszke has a country home a few miles from St. Petersburg, where his friends can find him sunburned and happy and in all probability if one should call in the morning they would catch this art- with 2 broad-brimmed sam g his eves and a garden rake ir hands, There is nothing really more de- Jightful than playing at work. Albert S farm near Burges in the lower Pyrenees, nthusiastic to a degree over his chickens, pigs and cows. I am told thet the keepest pleasure and the most beneficial exercise is taken in these serio- mpts at ranching. handsome Ernest Hastings ng his morning ou with the demands and all cozy little ha- his spends his of hours on his where he is comic Imagine the calisthenics by the lettuce bed g the weeds fror little Edna Wallace Hop entertaining her friends her co San Die vaca- 4 comfort husb: has a neiscans are these two spi 4 in the face of a cea breeze. Trhite Whittlesey has 3 h your Ben g But that hor necticut, and in it mother ¥ ereign bits and up along the r their way back villa, where between s all find 11 the time, no doubt, fate made h ctor he wo been a capital farmer. 2 sions, to be sure! solutely devoid o work s home vaca- ere he still touch with theatricals and study, 5 ce he is going to pur- I have his word for it. Now, suppose it 1s? No more nor ng just exactly as he pleases. p when and as long as he wishes, eat he likes regardless of the fattening the present time; work -day programme, and } qualities, let his beard grow long, don his most comfortable clothes for all occa- sions, and last, but not least, occasionally enjoy seeing a show from the front of the house in place of getting a profile view from the wings. Cen any one conjure a more ideal pic- ture of comfort for an overworked actor? lives In a cozy talented San Charlotte Thompson t acting and th hie to the k ized cook watches st delicious sala flat, which Francisco When other not writ- where the them concoct d it is said s who know thet speclalties arq ¢ our hen the m by those of their frien: f their chafing- Nat Goodwin Maxine Elliott, in r English and his beautiful wife, make their headquarters ome abroad. Now to some of 1 managers and their homes. Per] here is more spec- ation as to the and pleasures of ! people than of any other ion. Some will insist that a man- r's life is all beer and skittles, others neither, however, is from general observation the heory has a biff the best of it, I t is all worry; farry Morosco of the Grand have quarters that would one to become a man- quaint artistic bits chairs and soft rugs Opera-hou: tempt almost ¢ ager. Rich ta of bric-a-brac, in abundance. Mr. L of the Tiv perhaps the most interesting den n San Frar cisco. One where he can shut himself off from civi tion and find surcease of sorrow in the contemplation of his hand- some theatrical photograph gallery. Here can be found the most valuable collection of old-time followers of the stage in thfs Perhaps the most marked of all is the group photograph, showing all of the at American actors and actresses that time to time have figured in the famous old stock company of the Cali- Theater—Edwin Booth, Lawrence arrett, Adelaide Nielson, old Mrs. Ju- dah, Mme. Janauschek, James O'Nelil, Clara Morris, Emily Melville and many others. 815 Hyde street is the home address Fred Belasco of the Alcazar gives his friends. It is presided over by his charming wife, E there are who can bear testi- mor v that is di pensed within its doers. Mr. Belasco has a penchant for color, so the various rooms are furnished to carry out the color scheme, his own being in the richest of dark reds, and all the cushions upon presents he is going to recelve on his next birthday, are of the same rich hue. Mr. Ellinghouse of the California Thea- ter drowns his business sorrows in the most comfortable bachelor quarters im- aginable—325 Ellis street is his home, and there one can generally find him when oft duty with his pipe and steins, books and Burk rt has a flat in New Wwhich he so Cnmfortahl‘)' reclines, seem- perhaps a congenial friend or two, all of ingly in happy speculation of how many which g0 to prove that in spite of his Yt ol ACTORS DREAD TRE STRGE KISS- £¥Y (wildly)—I love you! I love J ) sir Athol (crossing to her quickly) —I know 1t! My own! They embrace passionately. So runs the manuscript, and “Sir Athol” presses his lips to hers for several sec- onds, and Edwin and Angelina in the pit— closing day in Brixton— for it is early equeeze each other’s hands and look into each other's eves and yearn. “You bet he's pretty sweet on her in real life” observes the saplent Edwin on the ; home, “or he'd never kiss her like “Oh, do 'ush!” replies his divinity coyly. “Not but what T thought so, too.” And the ardent stockbroker’s elerk, who has a great reputation in his home as a “regular flirt”” feels that he is being wasted in mere business; that, loving the stage, he would make a eplendid “stage lover”; and, with no other qualification than that of suburban Don Juanism, he forthwithjoins Mr. Squeezer's X Company—“fit-up” towns—and starts on his theatrical career at Salisbury Town Hall. In reality a stage kiss is a thing of 1it- tle ecstasy to the parties concerned. It is, as a rule, dreaded by both. Where the artists are of a mervous temperament the thought of the stage kiss keeps them awake at nights. Never since the days of Judas has anything In kisses been in- wvented so completely giving the lie to the real article. In the first place, however it may seem from the front, it is not easy to put much “soul” into the affair under the eyes of several hundred spectators. It would not be easy, I imagine, in actual young circle \ life; it is doubly difficult when all these hundreds of people—meny of them experienced in | the art of osculation —heave nothing else to attract their at- tention, and, having paid their money mean to see the thing properly done. The audience forgets that, which is probably the case, these ardent lovers are the merest acquaintances, possibly even not on speaking terms outside the theater, es- pecially if there be a great discrepancy in thelr respective salaries. No, the dress circle seés nothing but a sweet, pretty girl clinging to her lover, her blue eyes wet with tea: her sunny ringlets falling on his manly bosom. But what do2s he see. poor fellow? He is the earnest jover. He has exchanged vows witk her, three inches from her nose, bawling into her face in order that the “gods" may hear and understand. She has assured him, in the same bellow, that his love 1s not in vain; she has loved him, oh! ever since before she saw him. He “thrills”—a stage thrill is comparatively easy—and starts on the kiss. He looks her full in the face (for now he is bound t0), and what dces he see? L Glaring into his, two unearthly looking eyes, the lids painted dark blue, with a touch of red color in each of the inside corners. The lashes are thickly coated with a black substance not unlike burnt cork. On her trow he can discern the line of the wig with the sunny ringlets at- tached. He knows the sickly taste of the ultra-sanguine, rosebud lips. But, loyal to his author, he plays the man. He strains the yielding form to his heart; he “kisses’” her; the curtain falls on a picture of un- exampled love, and as the lights in the audience are switched on Edwin and An- gellna yearn again. And lo! Angelina’s eoft eyes are filled with tears, she is that happy! Who, who caa quegtion the stage lover's right to a bottle of stout, or any other re- freshment he may require, after this And surely the ghastly business is no less disagreeable to the poor feminine victim, fresh, very likely, from all the comforts of a refined home, with flowers and things. If only in a stage kiss each wasn't | so near to the other! not see the otner! But. by jove, he can, If only each could | and that is where the trouble of stage kisses comes n. The crowning torture of a stage kiss may be—and, where possible, is—avolded by the “kiss implied” method. Here the author's victims shoot their heads over each other's shoulder, and by thelr ec- static thrills give the audience to under- stand that a kiss is going on somewhere in the region of the ear. But the “kiss implied” must be done very adroitly or the implication will be missing; and he must carefully guard the lapel of his dress coat from contact with her cheek, for both their sakes. But it'is a cowardly subterfuge at best. Or it may be that a mere planting of the lips on her brow, just mear the wig, will suffice; but this “kies paternal” denotes a flabby, degen- erate sort of lover. Again, if matters have not gone to extremes, the young man may get off with kissing the lady’s hand; the “kiss reverential” is a good way out of the difficulty when practica- ble. But the best way of all, from the actor’s point of view, is to cut out the ob- jectionable lines and episode or to rewrite the play. . SITTING lonely bachelor state he finds life not Quite a faflure, One of the finest libraries in San Fran- clsco can be found in the home of Mr. Marks of the Columbia Theater. Next to books Mr. Marks likes flowers, and many an hour is whiled away in the floral wild- erness surrounding. his home out on the heights of Broadway. Mr. Morrisey of the Orpheum occuples the coziest apartments that the Palace Hotel can furnish; there he has home without the worry of occasionally dis- charging the cook. If Mr. Morrisey has a hobby, it is perhaps that of making happy his beautiful and talented life com- panion, Mrs. Morrisey. Mr. Gottlob returned so recently from New York that his home is not yet com- plete, but his temporary headquarters are comfortable rooms in the Richelieu on Van Ness avenue, W @ s’ AARARA AR RARATAR A Mr. Oppenheimer, the youngest of Frisco managers, resides with his mother, 311 Spruce street, and a very pretty place it is, for Mr. Oppenheimer has a fondness for Oriental draperies and a fad for col- lecting rugs, both of which add greatly to the comfort and beauty of his home. Mr. Meyerfeld, president of the Or- pheum, resides at 1012 Van Ness avenue. In the photograph on this page he Is busy talking over a business matter with Mar- tin Beck, the Eastern representative of the Orpheum. Mr. Beck was somewhat shy or the camera, but the photographer caught him just as he was saying “syn- dicate,” and here he is. There is an erroncous idea that the genial manager of the Alcazar, Mark Thall, werks all the time. True enough in a serse. One can generally find Mr. Thall busy in his office writing telegrams or answering phones, but his bachelog quarters speak most forcibly of comfort and also of frequen: convivial gatherings, for in one corner there is a suggestive little brass tea kettle with al- cohol lamp, and just behind the screen can be found a chafing dish and a plecs or two of dainty china. solid Those who have seen Mr. Thall when he is not acting the part of dignified man- ager say he knows how to use those arti- cles and that when he does the result would tempt an epicure. In business as well as in the soclal side {7rErvrrse /TARK AT one will find it difficult to pick out a pro- fesslon possessing a keener spirit of good fellowship, a more fraternal feeling, where each member is always ready to lend a hand, or to be the first to speak a word of praise for a fellow artist, than in the theatrical profession, and as the stage is most prolific of reminiscences and pro- ductive of the best entertainers it*would be equally difficult to find a more thor- oughly jolly, well informed and compan- ionable lot of citizens than managers and actors. H. H. QUIMBY.