Part 49

MAKING A NAME

MARILYN MILLER IN SALLY]

One may see big electric signs carrying bright-light messages similar to the above placed conspicuously over theatre entrances in all cities of any magnitude. Such signs convey to the passing populace the interesting information that here is located a certain play, and also that in this play a certain person appears as a main attraction.

Now to the passerby whose knowledge of things theatrical is merely cursory, scant or non-existent, the two signs given above may have exactly the same meaning, bear the same message in both cases. But to all those "in the know" as to stage matters the two signs tell two entirely different stories, and the location of the names of the play and the actor convey important information in the theatre code that the wise ones interpret at a glance.

Here are the two readings as the stage-wise render them, and when I have told you about this you will catch the point at once and ever after be able to "read the signs" with a clear conception of their import:

The name at the top of each sign is "starred"; the other is "featured." In one, the play is given the star position and Miss Miller is featured; in the other, Marilyn Miller is starred and the play featured.

"Well, what of that?" you ask.

Just this, and here is where the importance of it all comes in:

The one that is starred carries the burden of the success of the show. If the play is starred, its failure does not reflect on the person featured; but if the actor is starred and failure follows, the actor and not the play is considered responsible, the actor not having proven a magnet, not having drawn business on the strength of his or her name. The personal difference to the actor is really very great, yet "to star" is the actor's great ambition. No one should ever be starred unless popular enough to attract plenty of patronage and thereby insure "packed houses."

This applies not alone in the signs over the door, but also in all the theatre's publicity. Pick up today's newspaper, and look at the stage announcements. "Mary Pickford in--" you don't care what the play is when you see the star's name. The star carries the play, in such a case. "Rose-Marie, with Mary Ellis and William Kent." You are glad to go and see the featured pair, but in this case the play is given the star position, it having registered success, the profits from this musical play having been as high as $18,000.00 per week during its run in one New York theatre.

Now the point of all this, that has to do with the stage dancer, is, "How did Marilyn Miller get a name that entitled her to this conspicuous exploitation, and how can I go about it to become equally well-known and famous, myself?"

You are wise to ask this question seriously early in your stage career, and if you have or develop the quality that makes for stardom you can read this chapter with confidence that it is an accurate and correct account of how many a stage celebrity has progressed from an unknown and unheralded place in the theatrical world, to one where Broadway producing managers have solicited the privilege of elevating her or his name over the doors of their playhouses.

Bear in mind that your name is to you what a trademark is to a manufacturer. And, to continue the analogy, you cannot establish a name in a day or two, any more than the manufacturer can make his trademarked goods universally known in a short period.

You are starting out now with the laudable ambition to make a name for yourself, and have still to seek your first engagement. You know your dances, are continuing your practice, and have confidence in your ability to make good.

Don't hurry to get yourself before any producing manager until you have had a little experience in some hideaway place, like at a church or charity benefit performance, some local entertainment, or club affair, anything of this nature, that will enable you to try yourself out before a small or friendly audience, test your ability to overcome stage fright, and get hold of yourself before a crowd. Having done this away from Broadway and gained assurance, then an appearance in some regular theatre, preferably at some benefit performance, usually given Sundays, should come next, where the dancer is sure to be seen by someone who has the authority and position to offer an engagement. Any sort of an engagement with a reputable management is a good beginning and should be accepted without expectation of a fancy salary, an opportunity being what one always needs in order to prove one's ability.

If you do not succeed in creating a demand for your services at appearances like this, do not become discouraged; make up your mind to keep on trying until you do attract the attention of the right manager. Always be willing to make any sacrifice as far as remuneration is concerned for an opportunity to appear to advantage, and be everlastingly grateful to whoever gives you your first opportunity, or foothold which enables you to establish yourself.

Send a brief letter to the offices of various managers announcing your forthcoming appearance. Enclose a good full-length photograph, preferably in stage costume, the best you can afford, i.e., taken by the best photographer you can get. Some of these managers or their representatives will be there and see your performance. Be sure you are "making good" before you try to interest any of the big managers. It is better for you to be seen by the manager before an audience than in an empty theatre.

Be satisfied to make a small beginning for the experience, provided you get a chance to do your best dance. This will help you establish yourself, but it is going to take a long time to prove your ability. Travel, and make territory for yourself. Go in a vaudeville act, if offered such an engagement. Keep on "small time" for a year, if necessary, and get your name known in a certain territory for a pleasing entertainer. Get on with some act, big or little, as a solo dancer, at a reasonable salary, and expect the first two weeks to be at half salary, as is usual. Do not demand a large salary until managers are clamoring for your services--make it an inducement for someone to employ you in the beginning.

When you start on a road tour your first inquiry of your company manager will be for a "copy of the route." You want to know where you are going, what towns your itinerary takes you to, so that friends can be advised in advance of your location day by day, and letters and communications reach you with certainty.

To the trouper, a town is a "stand." A week's showing in a place is spoken of as a "week stand"; the first and last half of the week is each a "three-day stand," or "four-day stand," or the "first" or "last-half." Then there is a "two-day stand" and a "one-night stand," which are self-explanatory. A "run" is a greater period than a "week stand," and you hear of a "two-week run," an "eight-week run," "six months run," and "one year run," etc.

There is a solid season, a theatrical year of forty weeks, of travel, experience and development, beginning about Labor Day and ending about Decoration Day, and a summer season beginning about the first Monday in June and ending about the last Saturday in August. Your work and progress is being watched unknown to you at every performance. The manager back home finally knows all about your work through "reports" which are kept in the main booking office and to which he and all other managers on his particular circuit have access.

Now you are ready to try for something bigger and better, ready for "big time" vaudeville, perhaps in your own act; if not that, then in someone else's act. Your second year's advancement is based on the weekly report that has been sent to headquarters regarding your reception by the public and the way in which your act has got over. Big time may mean Chicago, Boston, Philadelphia, and any or all the larger cities on the various "circuits." It may include the Keith-Albee Palace Theatre in New York, the Mecca of all vaudeville artists. It is at the Palace that you know you and your act are seen by every revue, musical comedy, or dramatic manager, casting director whose business it is to pick and engage artists.

There is no school like vaudeville for the dancer, singer, actor or actress in any line of musical work. Most of the brightest stars in the theatrical firmament have graduated from vaudeville into greater things, and many of them return to the vaudeville stage for a flier now and then. It is there that you come in contact with different wise audiences in different cities and learn how to handle them. You watch your fellows in their various acts, note the bills as they change every week, or usually twice weekly, and your audience with them. You are in two, three or four shows a day in your short time, and learning how to get over better at every show. The vaudeville audience knows what's what. You can't fool them. You've got to do your best for them all the time--and you will, or you will not remain in vaudeville, where you have to "make good" every performance. It is an invaluable experience, your first stage years, and you will gather lasting benefit from your active vaudeville appearances. You must not complain of the number of shows you are required to give daily--the more you give the more practice you get before a paid audience, and remember you are gaining experience while being paid for it.

You may follow a season of this with a road show over your former territory another year, and you will find your old friends in the audience ready to boost you. You are on the right road to the "making of a name," which after all is what you are after. For although they will not remember your name yet, if you really pleased them they will remember your offering; about your third trip around they will learn your name and never forget it--provided you "make good." If you fail, the audience will forget you; but not the manager. Once you fail in his opinion, he will never forget or forgive it. He will never give anyone who fails a second chance. That is "show business."

Your fourth year should find you in a New York production in some good company. For New York is always the objective point, since the best and most opportunities are always there. There follows naturally a year on the road in the same company, as the show abandons New York for a tour of the larger cities. Always make the road trip in order to create territory for yourself, to establish a following, to make a still bigger name and demand for you, which means a larger salary eventually. You are sufficiently established now, after five successful years, to be able to expect another New York engagement, under the same management in all likelihood but with a new vehicle. This New York engagement and another year on tour with the same play puts you seven years along the way to a name in the big lights, and your name has been growing day by day, until it is now known in good territory, and consequently, through wise exploitation--publicity--it has become a magnet and attracts patronage.

When the time comes that your name is to go up in front of the theatre, choose to be featured at first rather than starred. If anything must fail, let it be the show, and not you. Don't risk failing to "draw business" to the box office.

There will come a time somewhere along in your progress to fame when you will need a business manager or an agent versed in all matters of a theatrical nature, favorably known to all the large producing managers, and able to advance your fortunes materially by protecting and looking after your interests. He is entitled to receive ten percent of your earnings from whatever source, and the services he can render you are well worth it.

Nearly every successful actor and actress has a manager. Stage celebrities have not the time, let alone the experience and ability, to promote their own business interests, watch for opportunities to secure the choice engagements, and attend to the very necessary publicity and negotiations for contracts for the future. The reputable agent or artist's manager is always on the ground and in touch with the best managements and things theatrical daily. But no such representative worth while will bother with you until you have made good.