What a Young Actor Should Know

Hints on How to Emerge from the Amateur Class and Take Your Place as a Real Star

PATRICIA COLLINGE

IF you wish to avoid all taint of amateurism, and be immediately accepted as an experienced star, it is best to start right in at the first rehearsal. Remember, the first impression means everything; naturally, you will want to make a memorable one. Therefore, the first thing to do is to arrive late. This marks the true actor.

Arrive very late. This is still better.

If it is possible, time your entrance to come about ten minutes after your first cue has been spoken. This prepares the manager and the other actors for your appearance, and creates an atmosphere of suspense and anticipation which will be most gratifying. Once arrived, show complete mystification as to any knowledge of your part, the play, or the stage set. The stage manager will be delighted to point out the various details of all three to you, and to designate for you the nature of the set, and the exits and entrances. As he has just finished explaining the whole thing to the rest of the company, it is fresh in his mind, and will therefore be a pleasant duty for him. Anyway, that is what a stage manager is for.

The director will enjoy waiting while you listen more or less attentively to the aforesaid directions. When the stage manager has finished, you should deposit your hat, gloves, and stick (you will naturally carry a stick) on the prompter's table, thus showing your complete familiarity with the ethics of rehearsal.

Being thoroughly settled (do not allow yourself to be hurried in any way), proceed to the business of the day. If possible, make your entrance from the wrong side; and, as the positions will be marked by chairs only, enter by the window instead of the door. When the stage manager corrects you, listen to him patiently (after all, he has to live), and then conscientiously write all his directions down on the margin of your part—this will not take more than ten minutes. Of course, you will not have a pencil with you; the thing to do is to borrow one, which, naturally, you will not give back.

Getting on Easy Terms with the Star

AFTER you have completed the writing of the directions, you may leisurely re-enter the scene, this time from the door. Especial pains should be taken, in speaking your lines, to address the wrong character. Your first line may be to the star; in that case failure to recognize her is always a tactful move. It will denote an unsophistication and freshness that will be irresistible to her, and will establish pleasant relations at once. Later on, when you have a chance to speak to her informally, a few well chosen words will help along the good feeling between you. You might try some such speech as: "So very sorry not to have recognized you, but I have not seen you since I was a little child—you were the first star I ever saw." In the case of an ingenue star, particularly, this will be doubly appreciated.

Progress slowly through your first scene, stopping at the end of every line to ask its meaning. If the author is present, hesitate several times and finally exclaim—"But I can't say that,—it's bad grammar." That is always a good point, and will make still another friend for you. I need hardly tell you not to pass over even the slightest typographical error; for instance, should a line be written, "I told you not to coome," do not omit the superfluous "o", but pronounce the word exactly as it is written. When you are corrected, display the page with an injured air, and if a disparaging comment is made, remark that you thought it might have been dialect. It is important to remember that you must never correct the error yourself, but insist upon having the stage manager do it for you; after all, that is what he is there for.

Miss Collinge, who here puts down a few sage observations for the guidance of young actors, achieved her initial success as "Youth" in "Everywoman" and later played the title role of "Pollyan-a"

All this will give an impression of perception and intellect that will prove extraordinarily encouraging to all concerned.

How to Enter a Rehearsal

TAKE your time about learning your lines. No one will mind waiting while you flounder about with your part in your hand, after two weeks of rehearsal, and they will be always glad to repeat your entrance cues several times; thus you can learn them without effort. In fact, your entrance cues need never bother you at all; you will find the director only too glad to call your name loudly when you are needed, so that there is no necessity for you to stay around the stage. The outside alley or the front of the house is naturally preferable. While we are on this subject, I might add that the stage door is only put there for the doorkeeper to sit in. Do not use it. The management will be flattered to have you come in through the box office. As the front doors are usually locked in the day time, you will see for yourself that it is much more effective to enter that way than to use the regular entrance.

The dress rehearsal, of course, has rules of its own. The first thing to do is to find fault with your dressing-room. Send for the stage manager at once and demand an explanation. Upon receipt of it, do not accept it, but hint darkly at favoritism or stupidity. Should you be assigned to share a dressing-room with another, make it as uncomfortable for him as possible: take the best mirror and all the shelf, leave him the worst hooks, and assume complete possession of the wash-basin. All this, however, will only be found necessary should he be less important than you; if more important, he will do it first.

After you are made up and have donned your costume, go down to the stage and have a look at the set. Advice and criticism will be deeply appreciated; the producers will love to have you tell them what Belasco would have done about the lighting and color schemes, and it will be most helpful to the property-man to have you go around discovering missing properties—which are being unpacked as fast as possible and are on their "way to the stage.

Complain loudly about the lateness of the hour and general hardship of an actor's life; if you have gone without your dinner, say so.

When the dress rehearsal starts, you can add to the general good feeling by forgetting any of the lines you have ever learned. If you can miss your most important entrance —thereby ruining the star's best scene and sending her into hysterics—the management will rejoice, and the director will rise up and call you "blessed"—though perhaps not in those words. It is as well to .have a little stock of alibis for such an occasion—such as:

(1) You could not hear the cue spoken by the star. That will make an instant success with her.

(2) You couldn't see the stage business. That will please the stage manager, who has spent the afternoon cutting holes in the^cenery for you to watch through.

(3) You were not called in time. That will also please the stage manager, who, having been in every dressingroom in the theatre looking for you, has just been jumped on by the director, the star, and all the other actors for not getting back in time to ring down the curtain. The fact that you were in the alley smoking a cigarette will only add an elfin charm to these statements.

Go out front as often as possible during the progress of the rehearsal, taking care to choose only quiet scenes; thus when you stumble over a chair at the back of the boxes it will be much more audible and the effect of your exits and entrances that much more impressive. When you return, be sure to tell your brother and sister artists just how they impressed you from the front of the theatre. A few tactful remarks such as the following will answer nicely:

For general use: "The lighting is beautiful, but it makes everyone on the stage look so much older!"

To the Star: "It is wonderful how much Miss B— (the character woman) looks like you! From the orchestra seats one can hardly tell the difference."

To the Ingenue: "What a sweet part you have; Billie Burke would be marvelous in it." (This with a deep sigh.)

To the Leading Man: "It's funny, but you look so much fatter from the front."

To the Comedian: "Wonderful part, old man, simply actor-proof!"

After the first night of the production, you will find advice hardly necessary to you; you will find you are instinctively beginning to conduct yourself in a manner in keeping with your position. However, a word or two more. Never read the notices of the play itself; glance merely at the paragraphs containing your name. Never preserve all the reviews: a mere ten or twelve copies of the flattering ones will suffice.

There are many more such hints that I could give you, but you are now ready to stand on your own feet and will need little more advice.

Simply follow these rules, apply them with discretion, and, wherever you go, you will make an impression that will never be forgotten.