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CANADA. Fmosv

ober 8 to

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5. 1906. I l.-,ll'.i£m'°,.n,°x;.,`

A Chai With the Busy

Young Playwright Would _ Found a New School

.___;.

I eibowed my way thwulrh .the grouu nf

smartly dressed people clustered around the big frame full of photographs of the cast ol “Fantana” that stood in the lobby of the Lyric Theatre, New York. I ducked under a bra s bar that guards the way to the executive offloes above, climbed a

iilght of marble stairs, ran a gauntlet of alagefolk- -umstly young women~waiting to be admitted to the presence of that dread one whose nod or shake means

"_ioh"or “no job" to anxious aspllants; climbed another flight. of stairs and there, on the top floor, und-~r tho sky-

light, in a little cubhvy-hola of a room eoarnelyiarger than himself and doubly guarded by atenographers and type-

wright, novelist, lyrist, press represent- tativa and dramatic ntitlo.

Ou the slpol beaiila him pushed a fresh

young sonlnotta, Sha was pod-lag into his sympathetic ear some story later tc he rioied out as a "press agentfs yarn" to the dramatic editors of the country. In the doorway a newspaper reporter iounged, and in the box-like-ante-room I recognised a well~known writer on dra- matic topics, doubtless come to replen- ish his stock of photographs of stage fav- britvs.

"The Cheeterlield ofthe Pnssa Rep-

rfe\eniati\'ee" they call Channing Pollock, and asl watched hlm there in his oiiice lit was easy to understand how he had enmed the title. The invariahle oourtesy

,with which he met every demand, the patience with which he gave his timi-

and nod with which he greeted each new-

oomsr, all bespoke a courtesy, a gracious-

neas thatare deep-rooted, a part of the man himself. _

At last the odice was clear of viaiton,

and Pollock arose and extended his hand in cordial greeting.

“\Va nan't talk here," hs said, “coma

down to the Astorantl get abiua of lunch." And to the Astor we went.

It was to ask some questions about sev-

eral of his plays that I had sought this

busy young man, whose rise. to promi- nence as a playwright has been so rapid and so brilliant. lie told me that he had written many plays, hut that not until

two yeara ago had he produced anything that he really thought worth considering.

“Why I have written plays ever since I was i0 years old," I used to write my

Well, I wrote them, one nlay to a book that was the invariabie length. Andi took thsm very seriously, tuo. Uh, I thought thev were fine, great plays, ami I was ambitious to become a playa right. I still am," he added quickly, seriously.

Although tht- riream ofbecominga great

d|a\natl~t vias with this man from his

early boyhood, It was not to be followed with impuni y. Revrrsais ofthe family fortune iouml Pollock at tho am- of lil ln S»tl\a<ior, filling his ilrsl. writing, that of a chanvc lwivorter and photographer

during a South American war. A return to the world of llramn was made some lil

years ago, \\ |n~n Channing Pollock was n wellknown llramatic critic in the city of

Washington, where he wrote successively

f I' the Post and the Times.

%O7'03",£rlA.LL

at a Chicago Theater. Tho last acl. seemed to mar the play, and one night, niter the

l pt-rformanze, Mr. Brady came to PoIIm~k'.~l

'maui and told him of it scheme he had for bettering the eii`r:ct of the ac'.

“liully!" cried Pollock. “ilnllyl But

who`s to write lti"

“You are," said Mr. Brady. “.\i¢f" cried Pollock, delighted. "Oh,

tint-, lkl like io! 1`l| tin it the iirsl, thing tomut row."

“No you don`l. Write it now," persis-

t/ed Mr lirndy.

And so, sitting on his' trunk in the

little hotel "p1rlor,"I’olloolt wrote the ant. It went well, and the play became a

popular success. That was only a begin-

'rkén I 'amid Chan ,Ing pu||.,ck' ph, `¢o his callers, the cordisilty of PM .lllllll early elortsin thecopy books with which 0

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A <5<;.E1~1E rzzrz 1Nf7-jazmslnopfls CA12Z°.»G=E-"

This was successful and it has paid wall in

myalitivs, although it brought its author hut. little notice. it is ~tili being played

in slock company repertoire.

lint it was in thu' fall of lil!! that Pol-

lock i‘lr~t tasted the flavor of real success. His tlrmnstlzation of Frank Norrls` novcl, “Thu l’it," produced by W A llrady Brat at l’ar°-mn's Theater, in Hartford,

vvlia a gn-ui, ilig sunt-css. Evcrywherl-

ihe play was pmi.~.<-.ti as most. remarlrabli- tobe tilt-“first work" ofln youngdramatist. With Wilton Lat-kaye in the leading role, it came to New York and nightly drew

gn-at crowds to the tht-nter whore it wal

presented.

A good dramatlzatlon cannot follow the

' A I’

1-11at1?LAYJ;Azr?,.'h/7_»;7~7]~5pv

w _" ‘ `

"°"°l °l°’“’l-Y- *"4 ;ause'the latter is wo 1'-_

in putting V wi, no '|,, ,uw pl". any

whould ratlr .r cu; I their rum mm' I' i an c\a\.'.,ut on of their Dreclous neun"

"I" *lfell-I ‘lieu mimi", micnsucnr

flow 'l' 1” "im B"*?\'>D'd Carriagef for em U “.1 080 er. n fact, l disregarded

p ot so entirely that the pnblingn

#rote to me that the author had com. planned bitterly or the ‘ilbenier i nm

1 taken with her story. ` In nhl” “HY there was a development ip '°h° “ml” WHY. and to all the charaotgra

in it, just ns there is to the real people *bv “luke null-e vlnys cf real lin. au this, had i followed the book, I should have lost. anti the play instead or being a bl¥:success would have been a flat hil- urr "

Pollock feels that he has done his hast "Wk lu his play. rn., Lau. Gray Lady." This is not a dramatlmtion,

*is an orginal story of Washington The play was written for annie ‘-it is s play," he tom me, "cr me ér-

lilvary mines cr life. 'rin-rr ls nctaiag that the old dramaiists would call ‘dll-

a|atic'ln It.,ye4-itis vibrant with dn. matio situations. tingling with the real essence of drama as we iind it in lifs. Do

.V00 know," he asked me, with allaugh “that I cherish the hope of founding a newachonl of playwritingi Yes, that la what I said-founding anewschool; and I

do." "MY l¢h00l." he continued, “would be basedon the principle that the truest, most vital drama mnat reflect the aetloua

‘V0 W¢\‘0 Sllilillled at school-you renmn l Shortly after this Pollock went to New ` ning. .lune of the snme year naw pro- L I

. . d

ber those grnenbaok books, dont you! York, and was five years with the then- duced at I’roct.or's Fiftyelghth Street 0 cw" .Y movie ln U” °° °‘ tml' trical manager, W. A. Brady. In iilrl ‘ Theater. New York. “A Game of

' Grace George was playing “Pretty Peggy' Ilearls." a oomedy by Pollock in fouraota. rch th" Wald nm" th’

everyday lite. The llfa around ua is just teaming with situations, conditions gg.

Already them have been several atepa vain-nin the rightdireutlon by Mr. Plnslo, in England; Mn- Fitch and Thomas, in tnlg wilutry- and by others. But the scscci I would found would go evsn further- its drama would he huilt, absolutely of the

life as it exists amnnd “g_ l`°"°°k if* B yeumr mlm, ntili under

30, and is lrnpresl-ivrly earnest. Ha llhb been Lhu carver of his own fauna* and finds himself, at hia young nfs, prominent, sought afta r and in a fair Way to become moderately we .itlly-»that ll,

as the wealth of author. and playwright;

,___-

Continuerl on pa¢e2.

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can call Telephone and”-hnialte the alt*

,_. x.

.PHOTOGRAPHS BY BAYER

" ` " i e ourfriendé

Arewh-at-youwantito g v y `. . THIS XM'-'AS. . . l

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» Early Arid hive Us lerity of Time. ._

Be sure and see our dus-

All pity at their iiiiii ta

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bo;¢l_aud the 11 sun "wld be I "un, at l"y’" we 'N »¢ of both actors and pubiin, ,

drama when translated to the stsfgyw-K

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