The Mary Anderson production of _Romeo and Juliet_ at the Lyceum in
1884 was lavish. So much of her time indeed was taken by the details
of the preparation of scenery and other accessories that she had
scant opportunity for re-studying her own part. But her excellent
memory helped her immensely. Once, after _Ion_ had been dropped from
her repertoire for three or four years, she rehearsed her entire long
part without in the meantime reading it, and with hardly a mistake.
The circumstances of the dress rehearsal of this production of _Romeo
and Juliet_ show how far the stagecraft of the day had departed from
the Elizabethan custom. The scenes were so many and so elaborate that
though the rehearsal began at seven in the evening, at five in the
morning Romeo, Juliet and Friar Laurence were still waiting for the
last act to be set. At eight in the evening the public would be there.
Discouraged and weary, Miss Anderson could not sleep; when she came
to the theatre to face the “first nighters,” she was tired in mind
and body and unfit for her work. The strain of that performance was
nerve-racking. Yet the audience was unaware that Juliet had all she
could do to get through her lines, and the cumbersome scenery was
set with amazing rapidity. The play was over at half after eleven, a
great success; yet to the actress herself her work that night was more
painfully unsatisfactory than any other she ever did. But she was hard
to please where her own impersonations were concerned. In her fourteen
years before the public, she was satisfied with her acting only once as
Bianca, once as Ion, never as Perdita and only once as Hermione. _Romeo
and Juliet_ ran, however, for a hundred nights. Mary Anderson became
so imbued with the sufferings of Juliet that she continually spoke of
them in her sleep. It is typical of her that, profoundly dissatisfied
with her impersonation, she constantly restudied and remodeled it until
she liked it better. The brother Joe, who used to gaze with Mary on
the green curtain of the Louisville Theatre, was the Tybalt of this
production.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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