CHAPTER XXIV.
Retrospectively considered, the building of the Walker Opera House was premature. There was one good theatre here, and not half enough of business for that one; but it served to enliven things for a little while, and did its share toward liberalizing and metropolitanizing Salt Lake City. The Walker had a brief and rather checkered career; it was destroyed by fire on July 4th, 1891, after a performance of "Held by the Enemy." The audience were all home and the company had left the theatre; the stage hands were lowering a drop, when a gust of wind blew open the front door and sent the drop sailing against a gas jet; in a moment it was all ablaze. The stage hands lost their heads and made for the exit, when a little presence of mind would have saved the building. The house, especially the stage, was well provided with water plugs and hose, and it seems incredible that any effort was made to extinguish the fire.
Mr. Will Burgess was manager at the time it burned down. It is a remarkable fact that two other fine theatres burned under this same gentleman's management within a few years afterward. The Farnham Street Theatre of Omaha, where a number of lives were lost, and The Auditorium of Kansas City. Notwithstanding these very serious drawbacks, Mr. Burgess is one of the wealthy managers of the West today.
After the burning of "The Walker," Malloy's Livery Stable, directly opposite the Walker, was converted into a theatre, when it was decided to build an office block on the ruins of the Walker. For some time it was known as "Wonderland," and was a two storied show; the upper story being a sort of curiosity shop—or Wonderland with specialties and the lower story having a small stage was devoted to vaudeville, and short plays. Afterwards the two stories were thrown into one room, and converted into a theatre with capacity for about six hundred people. It was called the Lyceum. Here a stock company was run for about a year with varying fortune. Some actors who have since won high places in their professions were members of this stock, notably Charles Richman, Ed Hayes, Victory Bateman.
The Lyceum soon went into a decline struggled along for a few years against adverse fortune and finally yielded up the ghost. It was transformed into a handsome saloon and wholesale liquor house, from which a greater revenue is derived than it yielded as a theatre. Before the Lyceum went out of commission as a theatre another theatrical venture was launched. This was the Grand. This theatre was built (or partly so) by Mr. Frank Maltese and Mr. "Brig" Pyper. The story of how they projected, planned and built this theatre is told as follows: "Brig" and "Frank" made a winning in a "policy drawing." They held between them a one-fourth interest in a fifty-dollar policy ticket. In a sporty manner they bantered each other as to what they should do with their big winning of $12.50. One was in favor of reinvesting it in the next policy drawing, the other for trying their luck at the "faro-bank." Finally, in a lurid flash of imagination one (which one we don't remember, but we believe it was Frank), exclaimed: "Let's build an Opera House with it." The idea was so absurd, they had a good laugh over it; but the thought took hold of them, and one of them suggested, "Let's figure up and see how much more it will take." So on the back of the policy ticket they figured up roughly what it would take in addition to their winnings to build "The Grand." The result was no doubt staggering; but undismayed they went about to see how they could accomplish such a herculean task. They owned some property, or their folks did, and this they decided to put in jeopardy in order to carry out their designs. They secured the building site, and got the walls up and the roof on—and then they were stuck. They had reached the end of their financial tether, and were forced to stop until they could make some new deal by which to complete the building. Mr. Alec Rogers was the party who now came to the front and put up some $16,000 to complete the building. We don't know just how much interest the boys Maltese and Pyper had remaining in it when the theatre was completed, but we opine it was little if any. The Grand opened with the house in the possession of Alex. Rogers and sons, and John Rogers was installed as the manager. He secured a very good company for the opening, announcing a season of stock performances. The house was opened on Christmas Eve, December 24th, 1894. The personnel of the company was as follows: Jane Kennark, Blanche Bates, Madge Carr Cook, Jean Coy, Howard Kyle, Tim Frawley, Charles King, Harry Corson Clarke, H. D. Blackmore, Fred Fjaders, Mr. Mannery. The opening play was "Moths." It was a good performance, and the company made a very favorable impression. The axiom that "A new broom sweeps well" had a number of exemplifications in this theatre. It was so with this first company, notwithstanding it was a talented and capable one. After it had been seen in a few plays, and the novelty of the new house, miscalled "The Grand," was over, business began to drop off and it was more than the manager could do to keep ahead with the expensive company he had.
Why this theatre was called "The Grand" we were never able to divine, as it was at the opening positively severe in its plainness. There is a great tendency in our country to buncombe, aside from the genuine patriotism that exists in it; this tendency leads many of our fellow citizens into silly extravagances, especially is this noticeable in the naming of theatres, hotels and restaurants; more particularly is this the case in the small towns. A man opens a little restaurant scarcely big enough to accommodate a dozen persons, and everything in it of the plainest and commonest kind, and he dubs it the "Palace" restaurant. "Opera House" is a much abused appellation. Nearly every insignificant, dingy, dismal, inconvenient, and homely theatre and hall throughout the land is dubbed Opera House. It is a dreadful misnomer—inconsistent and absurd in three-fourths of the houses to which it is applied. "The Theatre" is dignified enough and much more consistent and suitable. "The Grand" during the ten years of its existence has had a checkered career. We doubt if any of its half dozen different managers have made it pay. The first company, as already stated, was found to be too expensive, the business would not sustain the heavy salary list, not only was the salary list large, but Mr. Frawley made a demand for a percentage of the receipts in addition. This sprung a disagreement, and the company was after about four or five weeks superseded by another less expensive. The Rogers management was able, liberal and intent on giving the public satisfaction. After a fair trial of the business, lasting three years, they disposed of the house on a lease to Mr. Garvey of pageantry fame, who spent a few hundred he had made on the "Pioneer Carnival" on the house in the way of improvements, and then called it "The New Grand." Ad captandiun vulgas.
Garvey's reign was brief and unprofitable. Then Mr. Martin Mulvey took a swing at it, and made things lively for two seasons, but the supposition is that he did not make money with it or he would not have given up the lease. The last management, Messrs. Jones and Hammer, have seemingly had the most prosperous time with the house; they have profited by the experience of their predecessors, and yet it appears they have not realized their expectations, and so have re-leased the house to Denver parties.
Having brought the history of the Salt Lake Theatre through the first twenty years of its existence up to the time when the stock company was altogether disbanded, owing to the fact that the combination system had come so fully into vogue as to displace the stock system all over the country, I shall not attempt to give its history after this time, as my connection with it had altogether ceased. I shall only add that for the past twenty-three years it has kept the even tenor of its way, under able managers (notably Mr. Charles R. Burton and later George Pyper), playing the leading attractions of the country to a splendid patronage, keeping up the reputation of Salt Lake as "the best show town of its population in the world."
More than twenty years ago several attempts were made to establish a vaudeville theatre in this city; two houses were built at different times for the purpose, but they were short-lived, dying out for lack of patronage. Within the last three years, however, the city's population having greatly increased, no less than four have been started here, two of which survive and seem to be doing well.
During the early years of the drama in Utah, several of the towns besides Salt Lake had very talented companies. Provo, Springville, Ogden, Brigham City, and St. George each had fairly good theatres and many very capable players. It is somewhat remarkable, however, that out of the hundreds of persons who have "gone on the stage" in Utah, so few have drifted into the profession and left their homes to follow it; the percentage is very small. Miss Sarah Alexander was the first to drift off, and although she has not made much stir on the stage herself, she has chaperoned her niece Miss Lisle Leigh to fine success. Mr. James M. Hardie was the next to break away; then Miss Anne Adams, Mr. Logan Paul and the writer complete the list so far as the Salt Lake Stock Company is concerned. Later Miss Ada Dwyer and Mr. DeWitt Jennings. This is accounted for by the fact that, much as the Mormons love the theatre, they love their homes and their religion better. The theatre is a pleasant pastime with them, but the staying at home and building up of their kingdom is a religious duty, and unless they are "called on a mission," they prefer to stay with home and Church.
CHAPTER XXV.
CONCLUSION.
A few reflections on the theatre and its work in concluding this little history may not be out of place.
The cultivation and progress of the drama in connection with its kindred arts, poesy and painting, marks the progress of civilization, culture and refinement at any given period in any country. Without the aid of the theatre and the actors' art, the great majority of mankind would remain in ignorance as to the works of the most gifted writers; without those great reflectors of human thought, how many thousands there have been and are who never would have heard or read the plays of Shakespeare and other writers of genius, but who, by the assistance of the actor's delineations, have become familiar with the most sublime and beautiful thoughts and sentiments that adorn our language. I make mention particularly of Shakespeare's plays, as they are beyond all question the greatest and grandest compositions ever written. Among the thousands of plays that have been written during and since the great dramatic renaissance of Elizabeth's reign, they still stand out incomparable as models par excellence of dramatic composition, challenging competition, and as yet unrivaled after a lapse of more than three centuries.
That the stage is a great factor in our modern civilization, for the education of the people, no reading, reflecting person would attempt to deny. It is true that some pernicious things occasionally creep in that would be better suppressed, but they are rare and exceptional. The great bulk of dramatic entertainment is uplifting in its tendencies. The infinite variety of plays presented, showing human life in all conditions, and under every variety of circumstances, can not be otherwise than educational in effect upon those who witness them. However crude or devoid of literary merit a play may be, there seldom is one, however bald in plot or uninteresting in sentiment, but what "points a moral and adorns a tale."
In Shakespeare's day the theatre was even more or an educational institution than it is today. Books were scarce in that age, and the newspapers were an undiscovered medium of information, so that plays (especially historical plays) possessed a wonderful interest for the masses, who had little chance for schooling or the acquirement of knowledge from books.
The old chronicles and legends were freely used by the dramatists of the Elizabethan era, and the incidents of history were made so familiar to the habitues of the theatre that the common people acquired a good knowledge of history by witnessing the representation of those plays. To illustrate how much this was the case, Ben Jonson tells the story of a fellow who, having been taken to task on some question of history and the accuracy of his position being assailed and the authenticity of his assertions being called in question, replied by way of defense: "No, I confess I had it not from the histories but from the play books, and consider them the more authentic."
Many dramas have been written (and more especially by the poets) without perhaps having in view their exploitation on the stage, but like their other poetry, to be read, suitable only for the library, more poetical than dramatic.
Such are the plays of Byron, Shelley, Keats, Moore, and others. A still greater number have been written solely for acting purposes; and the majority of these may not lay claim to any permanent abiding place in literature. Others still are admirably adapted to both the library and the stage. Such are the plays of Sheridan, Knowles, Bulwer, Schiller, Kotzebue, and later of Heinrick Ibsen. Of such a character also are the plays of our gifted Salt Lake dramatist, the late Edward W. Tullidge. The present-day theatre-goers have little time to indulge in the reading of plays. The overwhelming mass of reading matter thrown from the press, keeps the general reader busy to keep abreast of the current literature of our times. So that plays form no part of the world's reading matter; here and there is one, some stagestruck soul who loves to get hold of and read a play, but the vast majority are content to let the actors read the plays for them, preferring to witness the acting of them. It is a fact and a very gratifying one that Shakespeare's plays are about the only ones that are read nowadays, and these are by no means so universally read as they should be. The masses have not time for reading Shakespeare, or other dramatists, so it is a fortunate thing for them that the theatres are so popular and accessible; here, they can hear the thoughts and sentiments, and see in literal action the characters of both ancient and modern times, and gather from the mimic scene suggestions of the tremendous throes and struggles through which the human race has passed.
During the forty-three years that the Salt Lake Theatre has been in existence, an almost infinite variety of plays have been presented and thousands of actors (as infinite in variety as the plays) have "strutted and fretted their brief hour upon its stage" and now are heard no more. It is a solemn reflection that in all probability more than three-fourths of all who have trod the stage of this theatre, both local and transient actors, in less than half a century of existence are "heard no more." The voices that have thrilled us, the animated and beautified forms that have called forth our admiration and praise, are stilled forever by the chilling touch of death; genius, mediocrity, incompetency, all alike go down, and the greatest names in a few brief years are forgotten; so transitory is the actor's fame. Yet it is not more so perhaps than that of other professions, and certainly not quite so much of a "will o' the wisp" as "seeking the bubble reputation in the cannon's mouth."
Out of the multitudinous dramatic pictures that have been presented on the stage of this theatre during its forty-three years of existence, it is interesting to know which stand out in bold relief. We need not hesitate to reply, the plays of Shakespeare, and those that are nearest akin to them, such as Bulwer's "Richelieu," Knowles' "Virginius," Banim's "Damon and Pythias." The Irish plays of Dion Boucicault, "Colleen Bawn," "Arrah Na Pogue," "Shaugraun," "Kerry," and even his "London Assurance," made very strong impressions, were very popular, and made money both for actors and managers. So with many other plays we might cite; but compared with Shakespeare's plays they have proven to be short-lived and their fame but transitory. They have never found a permanent abiding place in the world of literature.
There is a strange, a marvelous thing in connection with the plays of Shakespeare. In his day the theatre was not popular, as it is in our times. The religionists held it in reprobation; actors were looked upon by the good church people as little better than vagabonds, and the occupation of play writing was scarcely reputable. The Globe Theatre, the best there was in London at that time, was little better than a barn. The art of scene painting was unknown. Candles were the best artificial light they had, all the accessories of the stage were of the most primitive description. The art of costuming plays was crude in the extreme, and woefully inadequate and incorrect. In short, the facilities for staging plays were poor, extremely poor, as compared with those of our own time. The greatest drawback of all however was this. They had no women on the stage; all those beautiful female characters of Shakespeare's were impersonated by men. Woman had not yet asserted her independence and equality with man in this domain of art; and yet under these most adverse conditions, the greatest plays the world has ever seen were written. Three centuries have winged their flight into the past, and in all that time no other dramatist has arisen that can rival Shakespeare. The popularity of the theatre and the actor's art have steadily grown since his time until in our own day we have the most costly and elaborate theatres. In every city, and almost every town of the civilized world, there is some sort of a theatre; many of them are truly temples of the Thespian art; invention has racked its brains to supply original and costly adjuncts to the drama in the way of scenery and mechanical devices; realism has run mad in its efforts to produce novel illusions and startling stage effects. Woman has long since demonstrated her equality with man in the arena of dramatic art, and for more than two centuries she has adorned the stage with her beauty, grace and talents. There is an eager and expectant world of theatregoers waiting for some new genius to come forth and give to the stage another halo, to shed a radiance over its flickering lights, and fill the world with wonder and delight; but alas! no other Shakespeare has arisen; with the models he gave before them, in three centuries no dramatist has arisen that could write a "Hamlet," a "Macbeth," or a "Lear;" nothing in all that time to equal "Romeo and Juliet," "As You Like It," or "The Merchant of Venice."
There have been hundreds of playwrights since Shakespeare's time, thousands of plays have been written, the greater portion of them worthless to the stage, but a great number of excellent playwrights have flourished since then, and their plays have had a greater or less degree of success. We will just instance a few of the most successful ones. Otway wrote "Venice Preserved;" Massinger, "A New Way to Pay Old Debts;" Addison his "Cato," Goethe his "Faust;" Schiller "The Robbers;" Kotzebue, "The Stranger;" Bellinghousen, "Ingomar;" Sheridan, "The School of Scandal," "Pizarro" and "The Rivals;" Knowles, "The Hunchback," "Virginius" and "William Tell;" John Howard Payne, "Brutus;" Bulwer, "The Lady of Lyons," "Richelieu" and "Money;" Dr. Bird, "The Gladiator;" Judge Conrad, "Jack Cade;" George F. Boker, "Francisca de Rimini." I might instance many others, but these will suffice tor my purpose. Now these are all noble productions, and have won fame and money for both authors and actors; but it is questionable if any of them will live indefinitely. Already many of the plays I have named are waning in the dramatic firmament; some of them have already set. Why is it, let us ask. What is there in Shakespeare's plays that lifts them so far above the average of merit and sets them on a plane so distinctively their own? Other authors have certainly equaled Shakespeare in erudition, have even excelled him in the description of the sublime and terrible, surpassed him in glowing pictures of supernatural imagery. Why, then, does the world attach so much importance to the work of Shakespeare? Why are they so highly prized? It is because Shakespeare was the grand High Priest of Nature! He got closer to the human heart than any and all other authors. To him nature was an open book, and he was so thoroughly in love with it, that he left no page unturned or unobserved; from the primer page or the humblest creations of nature's lavish hand up through the countless and variegated specimens of her handiwork to the crowning production of her creative power, man—this son of genius penetrated all her secrets, delved all her depths, scaled her loftiest heights. The heart of man, that secret repository of so many contending passions; that cradle where the affections are rocked into life; that fountain whence so many varying emotions spring, that sea o'er which are swept the multitudinous passions of life, was also to him an open page; the last and greatest chapter in nature's wonderful volume. He understood life in all its phases.
No plays afford greater opportunity for scenic splendor than Shakespeare's, yet none are less dependent on the adjuncts of scenery and outward realism. Shakespeare put his realism into his characters and no inadequate surroundings can rob them of their wondrous charms; they possess such range of mental vision, such tremendous power of thought, such depth and placidity, such glowing imagination; his characters are living, breathing, speaking types of the age in which they lived, and he their creator stands out wholly beyond question or dispute, the most transcendent genius our earth has ever produced.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Mormons and the Theatre, by John S. Lindsay