The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 21, 1902, Page 22

BARNEY BERNARD HOPES TO BE KNOWN AS BOOTH OF THE HEBREW STAGE By Guisard. % SUNDAY . THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL. JOHN D. SPRECKELS, Proprietor. INDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1902. Address Communications to W.. S. LEAKE, Manager - S e iveeeos..SEPTEMBER 21, 1902 Publication Office Market and Third, S. F’ IR X3 CLEVER HEBREW CHARACTER ARTIST WHO IS ONE OF THE ATTRACTIONS AT FISCHER'S. | | | L — are only two of us— Warfield and Barney So Mr. Bernard told other day at Fischer's n I went in to chat with brew comedian on the ge. here are only two— i and Barney Bernard.” one less prepared to make in other than n—queerly like hich the come- , this would set llhead. But Bernard's dressing- sat that morning—at Bernard’s side of the sat, so fa a scant ; almost as cer- own quantity, I te success of this desired carcer. He singular measure of the make for success. He t he wants and throws force of an untir- i ool, sane judgment and the f a Hindoo upon getting goal is not the first hip at Fischer's—but of t tell you. ve Warfield and Bar- doing the serious Hebrew character as opposed to these last conspicuously shine. w he wears in “Hurly nd what is left is covered with ), close curls. He has a deep, child- 1 dimple in his clean shaven chin that the sincere, fearless is eyes—blue as a bit of sum- . s the lady, novelists used to nose is all his own, twelves lying by my e discrepancy in size eat feet on the other e is Joe Welch, of course,” the ian went on, “all there in his line; s00n a8 he gets his hands down—" (liustrating with his own sensitive fists the drop from the characteristic cringe of the poor Polish Jew), “he is lost. Welch has been tried in three or four straight character parts, but he somehow seems to find his limit in his clever vaudeville stunt. “Then there is Frank Bush, whose idea of illustrating the Jew is fo take our matzos—you know the unieavened bread— crumble it, and dance a buck and wing dance on it. There is another now in “Busy Izzy,’ who has not even a walk and no dialect to identify him with the Jew. For the rest, the black-bearded, rouged and ‘old clo’ Hebrew, with his fatiguing stock-in-trade of fire sales, he doesn't count. They are to the true Hebrew character study what-the razor-slashing, gaudily striped, ‘warm baby’ coon of the yariety show is to the Lackaye Uncle Tom."” “Thal,] then, is your desire—" “Yes, I want some day to be the Booth or rather Garrick of the Hebrew naoge, I am not ambitious?” and Bernard smiled infectiously. “I may some day star in “The Auctioneer,’ though Mr. Fischer here says he has me fast for five years. But for such an opportunity I would take half the salary—nay_ just what I could live on to try myself out.” 1“ “The Auctioneer’ is Dave Warfield's play?” “Yes, and it is said that in our Weber & Field's work you cannot tell Dave and myself apart,” said Bernard. “We look alike, and our ‘Work’ is almost exactly the same. Why shouldn't it be when have done my best to copy him?”’ and Bernard laughed. “He is very good?” “If 1 am 2s good in five years from now I shall be satisfied,” said. Mr. Warfield’s admirer; then Went on quaintiy: *Peopie who don’t know have often told me that I am as good now. But I'm not, and even if I were I shouldn’t want to believe {t. I want to reach up, up, and ‘out until 1 stand right on top. I want very much that my mother shall be those who laughed at me when I began— Just four years ago—But this my son has @one well.” “Sbe dién't want = the | sensitive artistic con- | part in which Mr. | h lost from the height | le to say to | hour and three-quarters nlfihuy in affix- 7] A to go on the so I must e’en take my leave. | nothing, Bernard said, with a beautiful | that tinges every stage,” deference in his tone mention of his mother. *‘But I cared for thought of nothing else. studied at night, would go to bed, get u again to try some trick of gesture I ha caught in the Ghetto that I haunted day and night, until about four years ago I had to get out. Two and a half dollars | set me up—we were very poor. For that | | I got a Prince Albert coat, pants, a hat, | curled hair for a beard, and a set of | photographs to show to the manager. | “Holy Mo—smoke!” I said, looking at | the smartly tailored young man in front | of me, with diamonds where diamonds should be, and even a half-dozen extra | icn a locket presented to him on a recent | ! birthday. | “Pretty, isn’t it?” he said, catching the | | direction of my glance. “So'is this,” pull- | ing out a diamond-studded gold match- “and this,” pointing rather con- | ously to a heart-shaped gold scarf clip, | also be-diamonded. “All birthday pres- ents, you know. My wife rather frowned | | on this,” touching the heart, ‘but I told | her she could have it made into a pin if she wanted.” { 1 D d | | bo: sald Mr. Bernard. “I don't! " he added, hastily. “It came | a perfectly dignified little note.” | “But you are not what they call a mati- | nee beauty?” | "“Lord, no,” he laughed. “Still, there are | some @arned fools.” “To go back to Warfield,” he resumed. varfield has lifted the Jew from the | dramatic_degradation into which he had | fallen. He has placed on the stage a | character new and valuable and effective, | as may be seen from the success of ‘The | | Auctioneer'—a poor enough play outside | of the Warfleld part. His work is thor- | | oughly lcgitimate, reserved, quiet and fuil | | of the peculiar Hebrew humor. One can get 2 laugh any time, you know, by being | knocked down. I never allow any one to | hit me, by the way—but horsepiay isn't | comedy. Warfield has been on the stage | with other comedians who have had twi as many laughs, but next morning & bas had all the press notices. And they | wonder why."” “And you want to be Warfield the sec- “No, Bernard the first,” he said, se- riously. “And when I have put the Jew on the stage as I know and feel him I | don't care if T die the next day. One can- | not, unfortunately, remain out here and | fulfill my kind of ambition. A reputation | has to be made on Broadway to count.” | "“Is New York so immeasurably above us, then, in taste?” I.ask, jealously. | . With_'dcep conviction Bernard said: | “New York is the biggest jay town in the | United States. Anything goes there, as | avdiences are drawn from a large float- | ing population, that changes every night. A metropolitan .success means nothing, but counts for everything. I give you my word that San Francisco is much more | justly critical so far as audiences go. You | have every bit as good shows here at Fischer's as at Weber & Field's, and | there you give your $3, and have to order wecks ahead even for that privilege. | We're perhaps even a bit better here, for we're all young, with our names to make, and we don’t care how hard we work. “Isn't it difficult for a Jew to mimic a Jew—no perspective, so to speak?” “Yes, difficult for a Jew, but impossible for a gentile,” said Bernard. “Impossible it seems, too, for the gentile to depict the Jew correctly. Edgar Smith, who is the best American at the burlesque work, says he prefers to write sixty pages of Dutch or French caricature to one page fif Jew travesty. I write most of my own nes.” “Is it permissible to ask—you scem o enthusiastic a Hebrew, Mr. Bernard—if in your profession it is possible to live up to the Judaic faith?” “1 don’t, because I can't,” the actor said frankly. “I have to eat meats pre- pared by a gentile; I cannot keep fasts and the like. But I have a little religion of my own that works pretty well.” “That is—" “Oh, just to do the right thing by the ;,teople one knows to be good to one's ‘amily, to keep one's self clean, to give the best you've got to your work—you know,” Bernard blushingly formulated. “But I am a Jew right through. A man cannot easily cut loose from traditions strong as those of the Hebrew. For ex- ample. Yom Kippur, our day of atone- ment for sins committed—bad make-ups and such—comes shortly. It is a matinee day. I shall join my people in the morn- ing and in the afternoon will have to— well, show up their little weaknesses on the stage. But I shall try to play my part without the make-up on that day, to rob it of some of its significance. 1 promised my mother I would”—a curious mf;,“ re}inemenL ere is no space to tell of that won- derful make-up; of that delusive beard that the consclenceful Heorew spends one ing; of his methods of work; of the new Barney Bernard clgar that an admiring |- rm has brought out, and -other -things; THIS FICKLE WORLD. [P VAN WINKLE asks, “And ars we so soon forgotten when we are dead?” To be forgotten mien need not'wait until they are dead. Man is concerned in the things of the moment. The scene before him, the problem of the day, and the pass- ing care or sorrow, arrest his attention and absorb him beyond what is past or is to come. It was so of old, for the chosen people, led out of bondage, ran hither and yon, chasing butterflies, even as men do to-day, persisting when put under the appalling anathema: “I will also do this unto you; I will even appoint over you terror, consumption and the burning ague, that shall consume the eyes and cause sorrow of the heart; and ye shall sow your seed in vain, for your enemies shall eat it.” Voitaire says, cynically, that men remember and lionor their destroyers, and their benefac~ tors are forgotten.” The world is perhaps getting better in that respect, but still the fickle people set up a hero to-day and to-morrow know him not. Principles are to-day hailed with trumpets, and to-morrow are coldly rejected for others which excite new emotions and for a day are called the final truth. The city lines a street with thousands to see soldiers march down, and people weep and cheer, and whistles shriek as they sail away to a distant campaign. Then the hearse- ships bring them back, dead and coffined, and as the trucks hauling their bodies to sepulture obstruct the street-car for a minute the passengers curse the delay and berate the driver. The rep- resentative of millions, whose enterprise was counted on to build great structures in the town, and to promote far-reaching industries, is sought, consulted and consilered. Where he goes others follow, glad that he greets them. In a moment his life goes out like a feeble lamp in a tempest, and as his body goes by to rest by the dust of his forebears, none follow, and men hardly stop to ask why goes the hearsc, end where and whose body it bears. In all ages past men have been impressed by human fickleness, and, vain of their brief day and their little part, have built to themselves monuments and had them chiseled with vain- glorious inscriptions, telling the story of their deeds. And time gnaws the marks away and makes the shait a pile of dust, and the memory of man, which should defy time, treasures and keeps none of the record. This fickleness is not incompatible with individual greatness and enlightened intellect. The Greeks were the greatest people that ever lived, and tht most fickle. To say that Americans are variable and inconstant is not denying that they have greatness and elevation of character, capacity for the personal initiative surpassing that of others, and a dynamic genius that over- comes, and glories in strife with nature for her stores and her secrets. President Jordan has said that our form of government makes wise men, and defines wisdom as “knowing what to do next.” That we know better than most of our contemporaries and better than most of our predecessors. Still the butterfly we chase to-day, to-morrow is a black beetle to our eyes, and the rainbow, which in the evening we chase to find the pot of gold where it touches the earth, in the morning is of less interest than the spiral stripes of a barber’s sign. ‘ How many Americans can recall the names of the members of the President’s Cabinet of six years ago? Yet when they passed among us we gave them banquets and toasted them in foaming bumpers. They had the freedom of the city when they came; now they may carry their own baggage and skirmish with the crowd for a bed. This makes sincerity seem a bubble. But the fact remains that the crowd which tramples on itsélf to watch the hero of the hour buy a shirt or a collar-button is at the moment sincere, though next day it does not care whether the hero has a shirt or keeps it buttoned. r Not being an introspective people we change with the fluctuations of that which is ex- ternal, and are chameleons, taking on the color of the day’s circumstances, which attract us in the morning and are forgotten at night. Fickle as the waves, like the waves we build as we flow, and each generation leaves the shore changed. But he who feels the thrill of to-day’s applause, and says that it means immortality in the memory of his fellows, has not looked within and seen upon his own spirit inscribed the certificate that he, too, is fickle and changeable as the wind. THE ROUMANIAN JEWS. ECRETARY HAY'’S note to the signatories of the treaty of Berlin regarding the viola- tion of that convention by Roumania in her mistreatment of the Jews has started anew the European discussion of the Monroe doctrine. Tt would seem to be well to open a school of instruction in the foreign offices of European governments to teach them some- thing about the Monroe doctrine. That doctrine is not involved nor is its principle of non- intervention in European affairs violated, by Mr. Hay’s note. The Jews had been subjected to Mahometan persecution and ill-treatment. The treaty of Berlin transferred the allegiance of these Jews to Roumania, which was strengthened as a buffer state. In making that treaty Lord Bea- consfield acted for England. He was a Jew, and naturally and properly and humanely sought to protect the Jews who were transferred to Roumania. That state has disrespected this feature of the treaty. At this point it is askel in Europe, “What concern has the United States in the provisions or observance of a treaty to which it is not a party?” Secretary Hay has answered this question so completely in his note that the question seems willfully put. The Roumanian Jews, expelled from that state by persecution and poverty, come here as immigrants. Their condition is such as to make them indigestible material in our body politic. Nearly all of them are unqualified to land under our immigration laws. We have to send them to sea again and they have no place to go. In all the wide earth they have no resting- place. We must violate our ewn laws to let most of them in, and we suffer from their admission, because persecution has sunk them far below the standard. The signatories of the Berlin treaty | * have no right to put upon us the burden of receiving, or rejecting, these unfortunate people. It concerns us, therefore, that the treaty be ep:forced, and that Roumania be compelled to lightén her barbarous oppression. ; It for no other purpose Mr. Hay’s note was necessary to explain to the world why we can- not receive the Roumanian Jews, and to pu: the responsibility where it belongs. The anti-Semite papers of Germany sneeringly ask why we do not deal with Russia in behalf of her Jewish subjects, who are persecuted by the Czar. One thing at a time is a good rule in diplomacy as in personal affairs. The Russian case is widely different from that of Rou- mania. Russia has not entered into 'a treaty with other nations agreeing not to oppress her Jews. Her policy toward them is purely internal and domestic, and the rest of Europe is excluded from it utterly. For us to interfere would be an intrusion upon the individual, internal affairs of that empire. But all the Berhn signatories gave bond to prevent the oppression of the Roumanian Jews. Indifference to their obligation affects, unfavorably, the interests of the United States. The treaty made proper treatment of her Jews an issue external to Roumania, and Mr. Hay’s note is proper, timely, humane, and not subject to objection from any quarter. THE SWIMMING GIRIL. CURIOUS revelation of one phase of life at the seaside resorts in the East is afforded by the comments of the press of that section upon a recent statement of the London Telegraph that of ten English girls who go to the bathing resorts “seven out of ten dabble aimlessly in the water, two can actually float on the back, and only the tenth really swims.” Our Eastern exchanges say that a similar deplorable condition of affairs prevails among the girls of the Atlantic coast. When we in California have read in the comic papers little quibs and quirks about the girl who goes to the beach just.to show her bathing-suit, we have deemed the writers to be but merry jesters. It never occurred to us that they are graphic delineators of the real Eastern sum- mer girl. In California the seaside girl is not of that kind. She is not called “ducky” by her lover - for nothing. It is no vain, slangy metaphor to say she is “in the swim.” Her lithe limbs know the trick of disporting with the waves and the tides, and her grace and strength are more charm-. ing than her bathing-suit. In fresh water or salt water she frolics with an equal delight; for the Californian’s “ducky” can swim to beat the ocean band. Eastern girls should come West and learn the glory of living on la#d and on water. Here is the place where woman is up-to-date ‘t the seaside and in it with the mermaids. Here is the place where the joke about the bathing-suit display is on a par with that of the mother-in-law, the wealthy plumber and the newspaper man who can’t get his pay. Here neither man nor woman sits on the sand to show a shape instead of plunging in the waves and buffeting the waters with lusty limbs. The joys that are but possibilitiés in the East are realities here. So let the Eastern girls come West, get in the big Pacific swim and know what it is to be a queen of the waves and not a dummy on the strand. ; | | curiosity to very modest dimensions—I | to get new light on the matter. | and again Signor Campanari, whose d By Blanche ZECH GIVES HIS OPINION CONCERNING THE FAILURES OF SYMPHONY CONCERTS Partington. T HE other day the suave and en- terprising manager of ~Fischer's Theater, Mr. Friedlander, wrote to me to inform that- next month, | under the direction of Frederick Zech, the pianist and composer, a series of three symphony concerts would be be- gun in Fischer’'s cozy little theatér. Mr. Friedlander further adroitly suggested that Mr. Zech would be pleased to talk with me on the subject of the aforetime failure of symphony concerts in San Francisco and the whys and swherefores of the symphony question generally. As I have always wanted te know why, un- | der existent conditions, symphony . con- certs should fail here—though last year's depressing experience had reduced my went to see Mr. Zech the other morning | Next week I hope to interview Mr. Steindorff | tinguished career as symphony conductol in Milan, Paris and Loncon should make what he has to say distinctly valuable. I may as well own here to not learning anything very tangible from Mr.< Zech as to the symphony “slump,” so to speak, in our city, his discourse concerning itseif rather ‘with the historical aspect of the local symphony concerts, on which he has much that is interesting to say. He mentioned, however, the ruinous compe- tition that existed some twenty odd years ago betwden two rival orchestral socleties that then flourished under the batons of Gustave Hinrichs, later the Tivoll com- ductor, and Louis Homeler, now conductor at the Central Theater, as reason for the | failure of both organizations. Then Fritz | Scheel's comic opera busfness manage- ment, as well as the dishonesty of those who were connected with the first Scheel serles of concerts at the Auditorium (now the Alhambra), Mr. Zech believes to have cut short the earlier symphony career of the gifted Fritz. Later, however, he was conductor of a brilliantly successful—ar- %au«.;?“y and financially—season at the voll, after which he unki ¥ self off to Eastern ha‘mnu.lndly 1205 Again, in the Adolf Bauer concerts, the Tivoli had another successful serles, cut short only by the death of the conductor. Then the Hinrichs' symphony concerts failed, Mr. Zech thinks, justly, by vir- ture of the bad work that was there done. The single Holmes concert of a few years ago was ‘“Insufficiently re- hearsed,” and the Steindorff series of last year ‘“‘could not be expected to suc- ceed, as, though Mr. Steindorff is a mas- ter of comic opera conducting, and a love- ly fellow, he has not the requisite experi- ence in the conducting of symphonies.” ““Herold was the father of symphony here, so to speak,” Mr. Zech said, “but, as his concerts took place between' thirty and forty years ago, in the old Platt's Hall-much better than any music hall now in town—I, of course, know little nboumt them. 5 My own experlence,” continued the lanist, ‘‘was with a symphony soclety ere in 1882-1383, after my return from study in Berlin. In Berlin I had the great advantage of studying ali the big sym- phonies under Hans von Bulow, wfio was then giving a magnificent series of con- certs under the wing of the famous dilet- tante, the Duke of Meiningen. Then I heard almost all of the Wagner works, given under his own direction, Anton Seid] conducting. I bave myself written five :l);{n’lphonlet—lhlt. of ctoum. makes one a le more competent to wield a sym- phonic_baton—?. “As I said before, we had a flourishing soclety here twenty years ago for two seasons undq& my direction,” Mr. Zech re- minded, and I really forget what he sai; was the reason for the disbandment of that particular -oclet{. After the con- ductor had the leadership of the Orches- tral Union, that later became the Phil- harmonic Societg. This, at the time. was composed of eighty members, and though nominally an amateur association, num- bered among its members many distin- guighed professionals. Mr. Zech mentions among other compositions rendered by the orchestra “The Fingal's Cave Over- ture” of Mendelssohn and the “Seventh Symphony” of Beethoven—neither exactly within ordinary amateur range. Business Interests then called Mr. Zech across the bay, where he has been pleasantly hibernat- ing until about filve months ago, when he returned to his native stamping ground. Whether the same conditions confrent the conductor as prevailed during his first symphonic experiences here remains to be @ itk @ Prunés stuffed with apricots. Townsend's.* ————— Townsend's California Glace fruit and candies, 50c a pound, in artistic fire-etched boxes. A nice present for Easts fris 629 Market st., Palace Hotel bfim"?‘ ———— { 4 Special information “suppiled _daily to louses aj public men by the Press Clip] Bureau 230 Ci Tornia strects Telephona. Muia 10 Cor | MOST REMARKABLE CHILD l ARTIST THAT HAS APPEAR- ED IN SAN FRANCISCO. - seen. He has what may be called a truly heroic courage in lifting again the drogped symphony baton, that has before proved so uhgratefully heavy in many clever hands, and deserves large credit therefor. As to the probabilities of an artistic succees strong enough to compel support from our lazy music lovers, I am not prepared to judge, the Zech symphonies being before my time; but from authoritative hearsay it may be said that he will give a thor- oughly sincere, careful and correct read- ing of his material, that will be accord- ing to the best traditional standards. Not lttle. “T shall have fifty picked men,” says the composer, “‘and I have allowed no claim of friendship to interfere with the selec- tion of the best material for the work. At the first concert—there will be three, given fortnightly—we shall play the Sev- enth Symphony of Beethoven, Mendels- sohn’s ~ ‘Fingal’'s Cave,’ and possibly a little thing of my own, a symphonic poem written about Keats’ ‘Lamia.’ I shall { have six rehearsals—one cannot do with less—two for strings alone, then brass and reeds, and two complete rehearsals.” . ‘That very astonishing little maid, Ml Enid Brandt, took leave for some time of Francisdy audlences on Thursday evening last Steinway Hall in a fare- well plano recital. She is the most pre- sterously clever little child artist that as appeared before the public here, and there have been not a.few. Her hands are absurdly small for even the unpian- istic 10-year-old, yet her work sounds like that of an ably fingered adult. There is absolutely no lack of power discerni- ble in her rendering of even a Lisat Rhapsodie, and the evenness and bril- lianey of all her techmical work testify to an. astounding executive development. HOSTETTERS BfiouAE-l Rs Keep the system in good condi- tion by an occasional dose of the Bitters. It will restore vigor to the system, prevent Malaria, Fever and Ague, and cure Sick Headache, Nervousaess, Indigestion, Dyspepsia and Insomnia. B-: sure to try it e ——— o T EUTORE that ‘pays well from the begianing aad e v R E HITCHCOCK MILITARY ACADEMY, SAN RAFAEL, CAL, XMAS TERM WILL AUGUST 1 |