Mary Anderson | Page 6

Anderson, and conceived the bold idea of producing "Romeo and Juliet," with the untried young novice in the role of Juliet for poor Levick's benefit. It was on a Thursday that the proposition was made to her by the manager at the theater, and the performance was to take place on the following Saturday. Mary, almost wild with delight, gave an eager acceptance if she could but obtain her parents' consent. The passers-by turned many of them that day to look at the beautiful girl, who flew almost panting through the streets to reach her home. The bell handle actually broke in her impetuous eager hands. The answer was "Yes," and at length the dream of her life was realized. On the following Saturday, the 27th of November, 1875, after only a single rehearsal, and wearing the borrowed costume of the manager's wife, who happened to be about the same size as herself, and without the slightest "make up," Mary Anderson appeared as one of Shakespeare's favorite heroines. She was announced in the playbills thus:--
JULIET . . BY A LOUISVILLE YOUNG LADY. (Her first appearance on any stage.)
The theater was packed from curiosity, and this is what the Louisville Courier said of the performance next morning.
Louisville Courier, November 28th, 1875.
"We can scarcely bring ourselves to speak of the young actress, who came before the footlights last night, with the coolness of a critic and a spectator. An interest in native genius and young endeavor, in courage and brave effort that arrives from so near us--our own city--precludes the possibility of standing outside of sympathy, and peering in with analyzing and judicial glance. But we do not think that any man of judgment who witnessed Miss Anderson's acting of Juliet, can doubt that she is a great actress. In the latter scenes she interpreted the very spirit and soul of tragedy, and thrilled the whole house into silence by the depth of her passion and her power. She is essentially a tragic genius, and began really to act only after the scene in which her nurse tells Juliet of what she supposes is her lover's death. The quick gasp, the terrified stricken face, the tottering step, the passionate and heart-rending accents were nature's own marks of affecting overwhelming grief. Miss Anderson has great power over the lower tones of her rich voice. Her whisper electrifies and penetrates; her hurried words in the passion of the scene, where she drinks the sleeping potion, and afterward in the catastrophe at the end, although very far below conversational pitch, came to the ear with distinctness and with wonderful effect. In the final scene she reached the climax of her acting, which, from the time of Tybalt's death to the end, was full of tragic power that we have never seen excelled. It will be observed that we have placed the merit of this actress (in our opinion) for the most part in her deeper and more somber powers, and despite the high praise that we more gladly offer as her due, we cannot be blind to her faults in the presentation of last evening. She is, undoubtedly, a great actress, and last night evidenced a magnificent genius, more especially remarkable on account of her extreme youth; but whether she is a great Juliet is, indeed, more doubtful. We can imagine her as personating Lady Macbeth superbly, and hope soon to witness her in the part. As Juliet, her conception is almost perfect, as evinced by her rare and exceptional taste and intuitive understanding of the text. But her enactment of the earlier scenes lacks the exuberance and earnest joyfulness of the pure and glowing Flower of Italy, with all her fanciful conceits and delightful and loving ardor.
"We could not, in Miss Anderson's rendition of the balcony scene, help feeling in the tones of her voice, an almost stern foreboding of their saddening fates--a foreboding stranger than that which falls as a shadow to all ecstatic youthful hope and joy. Other faults--as evident, undoubtedly, to her and to her advisers, as to us--are for the most part superficial, and will disappear in a little further experience. A first appearance, coupled with so much merit and youth, may well excuse many things.
"A lack of true interpretation we can never excuse. We give mediocrity fair common-place words, generally of commendation unaccompanied by censure. But when we come to deal with a divine inspiration, our words must have their full meaning.
"We do not here want mere commendatory phrases, whose stereotyped faces appear again and again. We want just appreciation, just censure. Thus our criticism is not to be considered unkind. Nay, we not only owe it to the truth and to ourselves in Miss Anderson's case, to state the existence of faults and crudities in her acting, but