The Art of Stage Dancing Part 35

The fire laws require a fireproof curtain, which is on the outer or audience side of the two or more curtains that hang on the stage side of the proscenium arch. Next to this asbestos affair is the "act curtain," that raises and lowers, and is usually painted on fire-proofed or heavy duck canvas. There may be used instead or in addition to the act curtain, what is known as a tableau curtain, that works in a traveler above, which can be drawn straight off stage, both ways, parting in the middle, or be pulled to a drape at each side.

This is always made of material and sometimes painted in aniline dye; if painted in water color or oil it would crack.

There is never any curtain in front of "the arch" or proscenium. The footlights and the ap.r.o.n are in front of the fireproof curtain. The ap.r.o.n may be deep or shallow, and at its front edge is the footlight trough and a masking piece, fireproof always, to shield the eyes of the audience and reflect the footlights onto the stage. The footlights follow the front curvature of the ap.r.o.n, when it is curved, as is usually the case, although many of the modern stages have no ap.r.o.n at all, the footlights running in a straight line across, sometimes within a foot of the fire curtain.

The stage itself extends from the curtain line to the back wall of the theatre, and from left wall to right wall. Under the roof of the stage, anywhere from sixty-five to ninety feet above the floor, there is a horizontal lattice work of steel or iron covering the entire spread of the stage, and known as the gridiron. The s.p.a.ce on top of the gridiron is called the rigging loft. The roof of the stage over the rigging loft is a huge skylight, opened or closed from the stage.

The skylight is made light-proof for matinee performances. On the gridiron are rigged the blocks and pulleys through which pa.s.s the lines attached to all the scenery that goes up in the air, or "up in the flies," which is the name given the s.p.a.ce between the top of the proscenium arch and the gridiron. To take scenery up, is "flying it,"

in stage language, leaving the sight of the audience; whatever goes up "flies," and whatever is carried off to one side or back is "struck." The stage manager, when he wants the scene taken away, gives the order "strike" to the stage hands, or "grips," as they are called, who are on the stage level, and he pushes a b.u.t.ton for the head-flyman in the "fly-gallery" to fly whatever scenery goes up.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GRAND BALL ROOM IN NED WAYBURN STUDIOS]

There is a "fly-gallery," as it is called, usually ten to fifteen feet wide, some twenty-five to thirty-five feet above the stage level and extending from the front to the back walls of the stage on one side, against the side wall, usually of steel and concrete. Then there is the "paint-bridge," perhaps five feet wide, extending across the stage at the back wall from side to side, on a line with the "fly-gallery."

Sometimes there is a "paint-frame" attached to the back wall on which scenery is painted. It is movable up and down. Sometimes twenty to twenty-five feet above the stage level is a light-gallery, on each side of the stage running parallel to the fly-gallery, but under it.

These galleries are for the purpose of holding calcium lights and operators. Running from the back wall of the stage to the proscenium wall all the way of the fly-gallery on the front edge nearest the stage is the pin-rail, very strong and imbedded in the wall front and back of the stage; it holds all the scenery that goes aloft. When the scenery is raised, the "lines," as the ropes or cables are called in stage language, are pulled down and tied off to this "pin-rail." These lines attached to the scenery are usually in sets of three, sometimes four, and extend straight up through the blocks in the gridiron and across the gridiron down to the pin-rail in the fly-gallery. As they are usually fastened to three or four different points on each piece of scenery they are necessarily of three or four different lengths, but the lines are tied and handled as one at the pin-rail, and pulled all together. In a set of three lines, the line nearest the pin-rail is called the "short line," the next one the middle line, the far one the long line. "Trim it," you hear the order given. This means to "level" whatever piece of scenery it is. "Tie it off" is the way they direct that the lines be made fast to the pin-rail. In rainy or damp weather the ropes get longer; in dry they shrink; then it is necessary to "trim the drops," letting out the lines and tying them over before the performance. This is done under the direction of the master mechanic or stage carpenter. Often there is a counterweight or bag attached to the lines above the fly-gallery to help carry the weight of the heavy scenery as it is sent aloft to its resting place in the flies, out of sight of the audience and out of the way of everybody on stage.

The various drops are known on the stage as "solid," "cut" or "leg"

drops. Borders about forty feet long by twelve feet deep, hung horizontally, mask in the top of all scenery, and hide the "flies"

from the audience on the lower floor, and may be interior, exterior, foliage, straight, arched, or sky borders (plain blue). In troughs hung across the stage by steel cables from the gridiron, their height regulated from the fly-gallery, are the various border lights, each usually in three circuits, red, white and blue. These are hung at intervals of about six feet, the first being about that distance back of the act curtain and the others s.p.a.ced about every six feet to the back wall of the stage. On the average practical modern stage there will be anywhere from four to seven border lights. On the stage, between the curtain line and first border light, are the first entrances, known as left first entrance and right first entrance. The right and left of the stage are always the dancer's right and left as she or he faces the audience. About six feet back of this is located the second entrance, and about each six feet interval is a successively numbered entrance, as "third entrance," etc. In a "full-stage" setting the last entrance to the rear is called "upper entrance." A scene in the s.p.a.ce covering the entire first entrance is spoken of as being "in one"; in the second entrance, "in two." When one pa.s.ses out of sight of the audience he is "off stage." The various entrances and exits are designated in writing and print by characters that carry their meaning plainly, as RUE (right upper entrance), L2E (left second entrance). So, too, with spoken directions on the stage.

When you are told to "exit LUE," for instance, you are supposed to know that you are to go off stage at the left upper entrance. No one in the theatre ever speaks of standing "in the wings"; always it is "in the entrance."

The prompt side in a theatre is usually the left first entrance, though sometimes it is on the other side, where are located the electric switchboard controlling every light in the building, under the personal direction of the chief electrician, and a series of b.u.t.tons above a shelf or prompt desk attached to the wall about the height of a bookkeeper's desk, where the stage manager makes his headquarters during each performance, the stage manager being like the captain or skipper of the ship. All signals are given by the stage manager, the b.u.t.tons usually placed immediately above or at one side of the prompt desk, within easy reach controlling buzzers, lights or bells that tell as plainly as shouted words could do what is to be done and who is to do it. Sometimes lights flash to give directions and warnings, instead of the buzzer sounding. Every action of the stage hands below and aloft is directed in this manner from one central point of control by one master mind, the stage manager of the show.

The orchestra usually has a music room of its own somewhere under the stage or in the cellar of the theatre, where the musicians congregate before the performance and during their "waits." A buzzer or bell warning to them is said to "ring the orchestra in," and they are usually allowed about three minutes to get into their places in the orchestra pit after it sounds. There is also a "drop" signal buzzer or light to give the head flyman in the fly-gallery the signals that indicate when to raise and lower certain "drops," or hanging pieces. A bell would be heard by the audience and detract from the performance.

A curtain buzzer or light gives the "warning" and "go" signals to the stage hands in the fly-gallery who are called "flymen," for raising and lowering the curtains or other scenery, like "drops," "borders,"

and any other pieces of scenery that have been "hung" to fly. In some modern theatres the switchboard and its operator are raised some ten feet above the stage. In such a case a buzzer signal from the stage manager's prompt desk directs the manipulation of the lights for the guidance of the chief electrician in his elevated perch, these signals being given at a certain "cue" in the performance, and he knows from his cue sheet, always before him, just what lights are required on each succeeding cue.

Stage dressing rooms are by law required to be separated from the stage proper by a permanent wall. Access to them is usually found near the front wall of the stage, seldom along the back wall. In modern city theatres dressing rooms are in tiers, as in the New Amsterdam Theatre, New York, where there are seven floors of dressing rooms reached by a private elevator used for no other purpose. The modern stage dressing rooms in city theatres have every known arrangement for comfort, sanitation and convenience.

Stage artists have no business in the front of the house, nor, conversely, have those whose employment is in the front of the house any business on the stage. Both keep their separate places at all times. Artists are always required to enter and leave the theatre through the stage door. All first-cla.s.s managers forbid the artists to be seen in "the front of the house." Members of the company usually are required to report for matinee performances about 1:30 P.M. and for evening shows about 7:30 P.M., but always before the "half hour"

is called, which is thirty minutes before the overture is played. The stage watchman, known as the stage door tender, is always at the stage door before and during a performance and permits none to pa.s.s in who are not directly connected with the stage end of the theatre, the day stage door tender being on duty usually from 7 A.M. to 7 P.M., and the night stage door tender from 7 P.M. to 7 A.M. The night watchman goes his rounds regularly throughout the night at required intervals, registering on a time-clock from different stations throughout the theatre building; all outer doors and windows are locked about one-half hour after the evening performance.

No messages, calls, telegrams or information of any character from outside is permitted to enter the theatre for any actor or actress who is inside and hence secluded from all outside contact and purely in the realm of the playhouse. This and absolute exclusion of all interlopers is one of the strictest rules of the theatre, and woe to him who attempts its violations, or to the doorkeeper who permits it.

Any messages received are given to the artist after the performance.

No person who is not a member of the company should ever be permitted to visit a dressing room during a performance, only afterwards; such a contact takes the mind of the artist off her or his work.

Men who have obtained wrong ideas about members of the theatrical profession and have boldly sought to force their presence onto the stage have been summarily dealt with before now--and in some cases I have helped in the good work myself. Sometimes, after the performance, relatives, friends or escorts are permitted to enter the stage door and there await the street-clad and departing performers. But strangers and would-be "stage-door Johnnies" are always barred out.

There is no "green room" in the modern American theatre. We have all read about a meeting place in the rear of the stage that went by this t.i.tle in the old English novels and biographies. They may exist still in some foreign theatres, I am not sure--but I doubt it. What I am sure of is that the American stage is sacred to its artists, princ.i.p.als and subordinates alike, and to its stage manager and the stage hands who keep things moving behind the curtain line.

It is a business and not a game. A theatrical life is taken seriously by all who wish to succeed in it. No triflers need apply nowadays.

After every performance the stage is cleared of all obstacles, scenery and everything else. The last member of the company out of each dressing room is required to put the light out, lock the dressing-room door and leave the key to the room with the stage door tender who is held responsible for the contents of the rooms. The act curtain and the asbestos curtain are raised. A single electric bulb or pilot light on a portable iron stand about three feet high is placed centre of the stage near the footlights, and casts its beam across the stage and throughout the auditorium. The show is over and the fire-laws are obeyed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MARILYN MILLER]

MAKING A NAME

[Ill.u.s.tration: SALLY WITH MARILYN MILLER

MARILYN MILLER IN SALLY]

One may see big electric signs carrying bright-light messages similar to the above placed conspicuously over theatre entrances in all cities of any magnitude. Such signs convey to the pa.s.sing populace the interesting information that here is located a certain play, and also that in this play a certain person appears as a main attraction.

Now to the pa.s.serby whose knowledge of things theatrical is merely cursory, scant or non-existent, the two signs given above may have exactly the same meaning, bear the same message in both cases. But to all those "in the know" as to stage matters the two signs tell two entirely different stories, and the location of the names of the play and the actor convey important information in the theatre code that the wise ones interpret at a glance.

Here are the two readings as the stage-wise render them, and when I have told you about this you will catch the point at once and ever after be able to "read the signs" with a clear conception of their import:

The name at the top of each sign is "starred"; the other is "featured." In one, the play is given the star position and Miss Miller is featured; in the other, Marilyn Miller is starred and the play featured.

"Well, what of that?" you ask.

Just this, and here is where the importance of it all comes in:

The one that is starred carries the burden of the success of the show.

If the play is starred, its failure does not reflect on the person featured; but if the actor is starred and failure follows, the actor and not the play is considered responsible, the actor not having proven a _magnet_, not having drawn business on the strength of his or her name. The personal difference to the actor is really very great, yet "to star" is the actor's great ambition. No one should ever be starred unless popular enough to attract plenty of patronage and thereby insure "packed houses."

This applies not alone in the signs over the door, but also in all the theatre's publicity. Pick up today's newspaper, and look at the stage announcements. "Mary Pickford in--" you don't care what the play is when you see the star's name. The star carries the play, in such a case. "Rose-Marie, with Mary Ellis and William Kent." You are glad to go and see the featured pair, but in this case the play is given the star position, it having registered success, the profits from this musical play having been as high as $18,000.00 per week during its run in one New York theatre.

Now the point of all this, that has to do with the stage dancer, is, "How did Marilyn Miller get a name that ent.i.tled her to this conspicuous exploitation, and how can I go about it to become equally well-known and famous, myself?"

You are wise to ask this question seriously early in your stage career, and if you have or develop the quality that makes for stardom you can read this chapter with confidence that it is an accurate and correct account of how many a stage celebrity has progressed from an unknown and unheralded place in the theatrical world, to one where Broadway producing managers have solicited the privilege of elevating her or his name over the doors of their playhouses.

Bear in mind that your name is to you what a trademark is to a manufacturer. And, to continue the a.n.a.logy, you cannot establish a name in a day or two, any more than the manufacturer can make his trademarked goods universally known in a short period.

You are starting out now with the laudable ambition to make a name for yourself, and have still to seek your first engagement. You know your dances, are continuing your practice, and have confidence in your ability to make good.

Don't hurry to get yourself before any producing manager until you have had a little experience in some hideaway place, like at a church or charity benefit performance, some local entertainment, or club affair, anything of this nature, that will enable you to try yourself out before a small or friendly audience, test your ability to overcome stage fright, and get hold of yourself before a crowd. Having done this away from Broadway and gained a.s.surance, then an appearance in some regular theatre, preferably at some benefit performance, usually given Sundays, should come next, where the dancer is sure to be seen by someone who has the authority and position to offer an engagement.

Any sort of an engagement with a reputable management is a good beginning and should be accepted without expectation of a fancy salary, an opportunity being what one always needs in order to prove one's ability.

If you do not succeed in creating a demand for your services at appearances like this, do not become discouraged; make up your mind to keep on trying until you do attract the attention of the right manager. Always be willing to make any sacrifice as far as remuneration is concerned for an opportunity to appear to advantage, and be everlastingly grateful to whoever gives you your first opportunity, or foothold which enables you to establish yourself.

Send a brief letter to the offices of various managers announcing your forthcoming appearance. Enclose a good full-length photograph, preferably in stage costume, the best you can afford, i.e., taken by the best photographer you can get. Some of these managers or their representatives will be there and see your performance. Be sure you are "making good" before you try to interest any of the big managers.

It is better for you to be seen by the manager before an audience than in an empty theatre.

Be satisfied to make a small beginning for the experience, provided you get a chance to do your best dance. This will help you establish yourself, but it is going to take a long time to prove your ability.

Travel, and make territory for yourself. Go in a vaudeville act, if offered such an engagement. Keep on "small time" for a year, if necessary, and get your name known in a certain territory for a pleasing entertainer. Get on with some act, big or little, as a solo dancer, at a reasonable salary, and expect the first two weeks to be at half salary, as is usual. Do not demand a large salary until managers are clamoring for your services--make it an inducement for someone to employ you in the beginning.

When you start on a road tour your first inquiry of your company manager will be for a "copy of the route." You want to know where you are going, what towns your itinerary takes you to, so that friends can be advised in advance of your location day by day, and letters and communications reach you with certainty.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ONE SCENE FROM NED WAYBURN'S "DEMI-Ta.s.sE REVUE."]

To the trouper, a town is a "stand." A week's showing in a place is spoken of as a "week stand"; the first and last half of the week is each a "three-day stand," or "four-day stand," or the "first" or "last-half." Then there is a "two-day stand" and a "one-night stand,"

which are self-explanatory. A "run" is a greater period than a "week stand," and you hear of a "two-week run," an "eight-week run," "six months run," and "one year run," etc.

There is a solid season, a theatrical year of forty weeks, of travel, experience and development, beginning about Labor Day and ending about Decoration Day, and a summer season beginning about the first Monday in June and ending about the last Sat.u.r.day in August. Your work and progress is being watched unknown to you at every performance. The manager back home finally knows all about your work through "reports"