Part 36

In dancing there is found a form of exercise that stimulates circulation of the blood to the remotest finger tip; that develops, under proper training, every muscle; that aids digestion to perform its functions of supplying nourishment to every tissue of the body, and brings to the dancers the glow of vigor and animation. These effects of the dance have long been proved by the experience of millions of men and women. Other millions who have not yet tried it will sooner or later make the experiment. They will find that life takes on a new outlook, that instead of listless indifference they are actively interested in many things that they formerly ignored; that with restored bodily vigor they have quickened minds and better appreciation of all their daily contacts with their fellows, and that they are enjoying each day's existence with a zest never known before.

The dance is a physical, mental and moral upbuilding. It brings a greater capacity for success in the daily tasks and duties. It stimulates and restores. It shows the door to the glooms and welcomes gladness. It brings self-confidence in undertaking new enterprises, and banishes the mental depressions that result from bodily ills. It forms new circles of agreeable companions, and affords opportunities for congenial friendships. It avoids wasted expenditures for nauseous drugs and doctor's bills. It puts humanity in harmony with fundamental natural laws, and makes of all who resort to it healthier, happier and better men and women.

SHOWMANSHIP

Do you know what "repeaters" are in the language of the stage?

They are people who like a show well enough to patronize it more than once--well enough to spend their money to see it a second or a third time, perhaps many times, and bring their friends to enjoy it with them. There are many more "repeaters" on occasions when attractions have real merit of one kind or another than the casual public dreams of. The show manager watches for them and spots them, and rejoices greatly when he finds them abundantly in evidence, night after night, for he knows then that he has displayed real showmanship in his selection of a cast, a play, and in its rendition. The frequent return of a pleased patron accompanied by his companions attests the success of a show in stronger terms than any other one thing could possibly do. I go on record as saying that no show was ever a real financial success without it produced "repeaters." It is a real test of genuine showmanship, recognized as such the world over by every shrewd theatrical manager.

Good showmanship consists of the ability to anticipate the verdict of the playgoing public. The successful showman must have his fingers on the public pulse in matters that concern entertainment. He cannot afford to guess. It is too expensive. He must correctly diagnose the case in advance of prescribing for its needs if he expects to be successful.

The wise showman always plans his play to have the very widest possible appeal, for the public is many sided, and a single narrow idea will fail to touch it at all points, as it must do if it is to have a popular acceptance. He knows, being a wise showman, that people come to his playhouse for entertainment, pleasure, laughter and relaxation, and not for a learned discourse on some abstract or wearisome theme. There are proper places for the lecture and the "big wind," but that place is not in the theatre of the wise showman. It is his business to create his proffered entertainment into a valuable piece of property that shall declare actual cash dividends at the box office. That is being a successful showman, and he who does this exhibits real showmanship.

The successful stage dancer must possess showmanship. That is why the subject is brought into this book on stage dancing--that dancers may be made to realize a need of which they may be wholly uninformed.

It takes showmanship on the part of the dancer to get fully in touch with the audience, get down to their level, if you like to say it that way, and never go over their heads. Successful dancers always use good judgment in their offerings. The same kind of dance does not do for vaudeville, musical comedy, revue and opera. Each requires its own kind of dance. The revue has its own audience, the musical comedy one of another character, vaudeville still a third kind, and opera still another. Here is where the dancer's showmanship comes in--to recognize this difference and adapt the offering to the audience before whom he or she appears.

Dancers who would profit to the fullest extent in their profession must learn how to absorb this essential element known as showmanship, in the various ways in which it may be done.

Reading along right lines is very important. Read the dramatic reviews and criticisms in the daily press, and read regularly the leading theatrical weeklies. Identify yourself with your profession in this way; read "shop" and talk "shop." Make it a point to see and study other dancers, in vaudeville, musical comedy, opera and revue. Meet your fellow dancers in their own habitat, behind the scenes. The actual experiences that you are recommended to undertake in your own behalf in the chapter I have called "Making a Name" will be invaluable aids to you in harvesting a lot of the best grade of showmanship.

Travel will help you learn a lot. The traveled and successful theatrical person is always alert, quick, bright, posted in all important matters that concern the profession and all who are connected with it.

Those who take my courses as students of dancing are given a wide mental as well as physical training, to prepare them to cultivate showmanship that shall complement their skill as dancers when they become professionals. I call my lectures "inspirational talks," for I do want what I say about their future careers to be inspiring to them, and encouraging and beneficial. I speak to my pupils from many years of stage experience, and I know if what I say is heeded and given full consideration they will be better dancers and secure better engagements, and do so in less time, as a result.

Good showmanship in dancing consists also in being able to "sell" one's own personality in a dance. Select your offerings to suit your public. Put in the effective "tricks" in your exits that are so important in inviting applause. And learn to leave your audience "hungry" for more of you. Let them go away with a wish that they might see more of your dancing. That is your cue in successful showmanship, my dancers. Let the audience come back to see the same show again in order to once more enjoy your pretty work. That means "repeaters," and repeaters, as I told you, mean successful showmanship, and both artistic and financial success.

It is never good showmanship on the part of the dancer, or of an actor or actress in any part, to let the audience know that you know they are out there. The way you handle an audience will have much to do with the opinion of your work that will be held by the big men in the theatrical world, who may be among those present at any performance, you never can tell when--and they, remember, are hiring good dancers now and then. Their judgment of how you handle an audience is worth consideration.

And bear in mind, too, that the most important part of your dance is the very end of it, the finish, upon which always depends the applause and the recall. You like to earn your bow, and that is right. Take your bow in front of the audience gracefully and quickly. Don't milk the audience dry by your bows. Never do that. Get general applause, but don't work up a lot of bows. Come right back, bow modestly and do a short dance, to acknowledge the applause. Such good work as that will stand the inspection and secure the approval of every theatrical manager whose approbation you value. An audience does not want to see you take bows. Bows simply gratify the vanity of the artist.

So, you see, there is quite a bit of showmanship for the dancer to study and acquire, and it is very much worth while for all stage dancers to put it into practice, early in their career.

There are entertainment values that the showman himself must be able to create from his available material, which he will find and develop in dialogue, lyrics, tuneful music, voice, singing, dancing, characterization, costumes, settings, scenery, properties, lighting, and everything else connected in any way with the stage picture or the presentation of his offering. The publicity and exploitation of the show will tax his showmanship from another angle and is of great importance to the success of the play or the artist. The selection of proper music also has much to do with the appeal to the auditors. No musical show can ever be made a success without beautiful, appealing melodies, or "song hits," as we call them.

And now one final word of advice to my dancers: Three minutes is long enough for your solo dance. Concentrate your efforts. Do not present a long-drawn-out and padded dance that will weary everyone. Brevity is the soul of good dancing as well as of wit, and you will be wise to heed this from the very start of your professional stage career. Never show a dance to any prospective employer unless your dance has been thoroughly set and properly rehearsed with whoever is to play the music, pianist or orchestra. Never offer any excuses at such a time. Be sure of yourself, and only do one dance, your very best one.

"WHO'S WHO" IN THE SHOW

To the members of an audience attending a theatrical performance it may appear as though the actors were the entire show and the only principals concerned with the carrying on of the affair. Of course the man in the box office, the ticket taker, and the ushers have been in evidence, and there is the orchestra and its leader. Others than these have not been seen or heard, and so perhaps are given no consideration. Who the "others" may be, or if there are any others, and of what their services to and interests in the show may consist, would puzzle many theatre-goers to determine with any degree of accuracy.

Let me take you "behind the scenes," as you may call it, but "back-stage," as we say in the theatre-world, in this matter and disclose the forces that move the puppets on the stage; the powerhouse that generates the current that moves the whole machinery of production. The intricacies of theatre management may come as a surprise to you.

Chief of all comes the owner, the promoter, known to the profession as the Theatrical Manager. He it is who selects the author of his contemplated production, and also the writer of the lyrics and the composer of the musical score. He engages the producer, the creative genius who realizes the possibilities of the production and directs and rehearses it, and the principal actors and singers, and some of the members of the chorus as well, but the producing director usually recruits his own chorus and dancers. A most important step is the choice the manager is to make of a producer, or production director, on whom is to devolve the entire handling of all matters back of the curtain line from the day of his selection to the rising of the curtain on the initial public performance. He is well aware of the importance of this choice, and places his reliance only on a man known to be thoroughly experienced and competent in this line of work. Having selected him, the theatrical manager steps out of the picture and the producing director assumes control. And this control is absolute in his domain. Not even the power behind the throne, the man who placed him in his position, is allowed to interfere in any way whatsoever with his orders or plans. The wise theatrical manager possesses full knowledge of this and keeps hands off. Should he venture to countermand a single order of his producer, the latter would be certain to say "Take your show and direct it yourself," and walk out.

And the reason why no producer of the first magnitude will brook interference, opposition or disobedience from any source is, that he is held strictly responsible to the owner for the form that the show takes and for the manner in which it is performed. His own reputation is always at stake in every production of which he accepts control. He makes the show a success, if he is that kind of a producer, and is entitled to the credit of successful accomplishment. If, on the other hand, he gains a reputation of "breaking" rather than of "making" the show, his career is abbreviated in short order. His job depends upon making good; he is the "realizer," the dominating and master-mind of the show.

Let us name some of the duties that devolve upon the ubiquitous producer:

He must know by heart the book, lyrics and music of the entire play, and bring out to the full, in all of the actors, principals and chorus, every possibility that their parts, acts, songs, dances and groupings permit or demand. All the comedy must be developed and emphasized, and the personality of the cast studied and properly brought to the fore. The principal artists engaged for the production are under his sole direction. He creates all solo and ensemble dances; gives all readings of the dialogue, sets the dialogue syllable by syllable, devises nearly all the entrances and exits for everyone on the stage, indicates the tempo for all songs and dances.

He must be capable of inspiring the lyric writer and composer, the costume designer and the scenic artist. He must possess imagination, suggest the locale, color and architecture--the atmosphere--of all scenes, select the color schemes for all costumes and scenery. He makes up all orders for scenery, costumes and properties, and must, to that end, know both qualities and costs; prices per yard of silks, satins, and every kind of material required in the production, whether for wardrobe or in the scenic effects. He must order the correct number and size of shoes, stockings, tights, wigs--everything, in short, that the company supplies to the players, which is usually all save the street clothes which they wear into the theatre. The orders for properties include all furniture, rugs, bric-a-brac, draperies, and everything else that serves to dress the stage or the performers. If period furniture is called for, the producer must be competent to say what is correct for the locale and the period.

He must furthermore make out a plot for the switchboard, to control every lighting "cue." There will be a front light plot for the "floods" and "spot-lights" as well as separate plots for side-lights, overhead lights, and all the rest, to be thrown on or off at a certain cue. This necessitates his knowing how many and what colors he requires in front of each lamp for his many different lighting effects.