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The New York Times (29 May, 1894) MINNIE SELIGMAN AS LADY GLADYS.
_____ Her Admirable Acting in Buchanan’s Play at the Madison Square. Minnie Seligman produced at the Madison Square Theatre, last night, a four-act play by indefatigable Robert Buchanan, called “Lady Gladys.” It is just such a play as Buchanan always writes, with an involved and impossible plot, dialogue that is generally both agreeable and effective, and a few situations that are undeniably strong. Lady Gladys is a young Englishwoman, whose lordly father is deprived of his ancestral estates through the machinations of his life-long enemy, Sir Gilbert Vane. Moreover, Sir Gilbert shoots her dog. Whereupon Lady Gladys strikes Sir Gilbert with a riding whip.
Reduced to poverty, Lady Gladys, for no earthly reason, assumes an alias, and, with her identity thus concealed, marries Sir Gilbert’s son, Edgar, first exacting from him. as a marriage portion, the title to her ancestral home, which has been transferred from father to son. Lady Gladys and her unsuspecting husband repair to the ancient domain, and then the woman orders her deadly enemy, and his son as well, to leave the house—in a pouring rainstorm, too. The next day, however, Lady Gladys learns that her ill-treated husband was the unknown benefactor of her father for many years, and as she is desperately in love with him, the play ends happily.
The main incidents of this piece, including the marriage of the woman under a bogus name, with the connivance of reputable persons, including a clergyman, are so preposterous that a sustained illusion is impossible. But, in spite of this, the play is not uninteresting, and may serve Miss Seligman well on the dreary but profitable “road” next season. A long run for “Lady Gladys” in New-York would be out of the question.
Miss Seligman’s acting last night was admirable in every respect. She has improved wonderfully in a few years, and the force and naturalness of her expression of the conflicting moods of the strange heroine could be equaled by few contemporary actresses, English or American. She has not only youth, beauty, and a sufficiency of physical strength for her portion, but an uncommonly large measure of dramatic aptitude, as well, and she has lately formed a distinct style. She has overcome her old tendency to overact, and keeps within the “modesty of nature” in spite of her dramatist, to whom that phrase seems to be unknown.
The delicacy and subtlety of her treatment of the scenes with her lover in Act II. surpassed any previous work she had done, and if, on the whole, her acting seemed less real in the great climax at the end of Act III., the wild improbability of the fable at that point may be urged in her favor. There was certainly picturesqueness in her motions, there, and a note of true pathos in the colloquy with her husband. Miss Seligman is an actress who is much talked of, but little appreciated. She deserves cordial recognition, for her natural talent is of a high order, and her acquired skill and industry are now commensurate with it.
She was supported last night in a frequently commonplace but reasonably capable way, and the play was suitably staged. The dignity and unfailing earnestness of John Glendinning were serviceable in several important scenes, James K. Hackett played his part with good intelligence, and Arthur Lawrence was acceptable as the gouty enemy of Lady Gladys.
___ New-York Daily Tribune (29 May, 1894 - p.6) THE DRAMA.
_____ “LADY GLADYS” IN THE MADISON SQUARE Robert Buchanan is not a conciliatory person. He has taken part in so many quarrels, and has fallen foul of so many English penmen that it cannot be doubted that his temper is singularly short and his utterance customarily explosive. Just now he is at swords’ points with a well-known British contributor to newspapers, and the two have had many hard things to say of each other. Mr. Buchanan has been so impatient to take offence, for these many years, and he has been so headstrong and violent in his controversies, that he has stirred up the most pungent prejudices against himself on both sides of the Atlantic. Many of his plays, many of his verses, many of his writings of all sorts, have been received with the swiftest of sneers and the severest of scorn and censure. And yet Robert Buchanan is not altogether outside the pale. He has intellect enough to entitle his writings and utterances to careful attention. His favorite deliverance may be Scotch invective of the most acrid flavor, and he may use muriatic acid in preference to ink, but he has put in words now and then some ideas not so insignificant as to be idly ignored. He has recently been waging a turbulent warfare against an English essayist on the drama, who not long ago indulged in fervent eulogy of a brute and a blackguard, the prize-fighter Corbett. Mr. Buchanan may be wrong in a great number of things, he may be all awry in a large variety of matters, but if he takes the ground that prize-fighting and prize-fighters are utterly contemptible and detestable at any and all times, no matter how man English newspaper men may use their pens in praise of the pests of the prize-ring, he will have with him in that regard the cordial support of every honorable and high-minded man, woman and child in this country or any other.
Robert Buchanan is the author of the play of “Lady Gladys” which was seen in the Madison Square Theatre last evening. The first act of this play ends with a strong and impressive climax. The second and third acts are well constructed, powerful and effective. But the last act is comparatively clumsy and inept. In a few words the story is of the just and righteous vengeance of an English woman, Lady Gladys Hope, whose father has been robbed of house and lands by the villany of his enemy, the inheritor of a family feud. This wicked foe is Sir Gilbert Vane. Lady Gladys suffers with her stricken and wretched father and breathes the spirit of revenge from his poverty and distress, and also from his prayers that dire retribution may overtake his adversary. Her father dies, and his final injunctions urge his high-spirited and vehement daughter never to forgive the family that has brought ruin upon them.
Lady Gladys goes away from the ancestral Devonshire estate of which her father and she have been defrauded. She travels to distant climes. At Monte Carlo—fit home of treasons, stratagems and spoils—she appears in the second act under an assumed name as the companion of a friend and sympathizer, Lady Dolly Fitzgerald. Strange to say, the tables of Monte Carlo are not exhibited, and the roulette wheel is not even referred to. So far as present recollection serves, this is the only play in which a scene is represented in Monte Carlo without any allusion to gambling. Edgar Vane, son and heir of the dastardly and pitiless Sir Gilbert Vane, falls in love with Lady Gladys, not knowing that she is the woman whose father was so grievously wronged by his father. They are married, and the young husband gives to his wife the ancestral estate which had been taken from her father, and bestowed upon him by his father. The married pair go to England, and Lady Gladys Hope, now Edgar Vane’s wife, reveals her true self, and casts into outer darkness her husband’s father, Sir Gilbert Vane, who has been living at Penarvon, the estate which he filched from the father of Lady Gladys. Edgar Vane, the son, chooses to go forth and wail and gnash his teeth with his father. But in the last act all is reconciliation. Sir Gilbert Vane pleads forgiveness, and she discovers that her husband is a far nobler man than she had thought him. So the clouds are dispersed.
This play was produced by Miss Minnie Seligman and an able company. The first, second and third acts were received with genuine enthusiasm by the audience in the Madison Square Theatre. But the last act was looked upon with less favor. Still it is certain that the play interested every hearer, and, on the whole, its reception was distinctly favorable. Miss Seligman was uneven in her acting. At times she was strangely distraught and seemed to be disturbed by outside influences not relative to the play. But in the scenes of storm and stress and struggle and passion, her control of the audience was manifest, and her acting was praiseworthy. John Glendinning as Edgar Vane was sufficient to the occasion and something more. He was manly and earnest and touched the right note. Miss Lillian Lawrence as Lady Dolly Fitzherbert played her part with delicacy, refinement, vivacity and charm. Herbert Ayling was ingeniously amusing as Major Fitzherbert and exhibited rare aptness and versatility. It was an excellent piece of work on his part. Other members of the company, including especially Miss Maggie Holloway and James K. Hackett, gratified and interested the audience.
Here is the cast:
___ The New York Times (3 June, 1894) THE WEEK AT THE THEATRES
_____ MINNIE SELIGMAN’S ACTING IN BUCHANAN’S “LADY GLADYS.”
_____ The Play Saved from Utter Failure by Her Tact and Skill—Another View of “The Passing Show”—Mr. De Angelis and Miss Stephenson—Beginning of the Roof-Garden Season—Summer Night Recreation New-Yorkers Owe to Rudolph Aronson. Minnie Seligman’s acting in Robert Buchanan’s impossible play, called “Lady Gladys,” at the Madison Square Theatre, is so well thought out and so skillful in execution that it ought to have appreciation quite apart from the material with which it is associated. The love scene of Act II., for example, is played by Miss Seligman with truly remarkable delicacy and tact, with every possible emotion of the woman clearly expressed. That it still leaves the scene unsatisfactory is not Miss Seligman’s fault, but her dramatist’s. The whole scheme of the play is false. How differently Sardou, from whom Mr. Buchanan has taken this situation, treats the famous meeting of Loris and the Muscovite siren in the second act of “Fédora”! There the audience is never left for a moment in doubt of the design of the heroine to entrap her victim, or of her feelings, for her growing passion for Loris and her hatred of herself for entertaining it are plainly indicated. But Mr. Buchanan’s Fédora is a feeble creature. She does not know her own mind.
The audience is led to believe that she loves Edgar, and that she has some idea, also, of marrying him for the purpose of avenging herself upon his father. But she does not even devise the plan of her vengeance, and has no part of it. The comic persons of the play induce Edgar to settle the estate upon Gladys as a marriage portion, and they have no sinister design. The love scene is as commonplace as possible—an ardent, earnest man, and a timid girl, who does not quite know what to say. It is true enough that it ought to have more passion and more complexity, but Mr. Buchanan is responsible for its deficiency, and if Miss Seligman had attempted to strengthen the episode, she would have been accused of overacting. She preferred to act it as naturally as possible, and she convinced good judges of the actor’s art of her superior skill and fine artistic feeling in this passage as well as in the stronger, and even less real, series of scenes that lead to the climax of Act III.
Miss Seligman’s acting has saved the play from absolute failure and made it reasonably entertaining. It will be continued at the Madison Square Theatre another week. ___ The Graphic (16 June, 1894 - Issue 1281) Mr. Robert Buchanan’s Lady Gladys, a drama in four acts, originally written, it is said, for Mrs. Langtry, but declined by that lady, has been brought out at the MADISON SQUARE Theatre, in New York. Its heroine is the only daughter of a poor Earl, who has been turned out of his ancestral home by Sir Gilbert Vane, a parvenu, who pitilessly forecloses under a mortgage, and crowns his merciless conduct by shooting Lady Gladys’s dog, who, probably unaware of the change of ownership, has ventured to trespass on the new proprietor’s property. Upon this Lady Gladys cuts Vane across the face with her riding whip. Thereupon this Earl’s daughter engages herself as a lady’s companion, goes abroad, and there captivates Vane’s eldest son, whom she consents to marry, on condition that the old estates are settled upon her. When she returns home she orders Sir Gilbert to leave the house, and when her husband determines to go with his father, she locks him out. Subsequently the husband is stricken with fever, and is nursed by his wife, who takes him again to her heart, and as Sir Gilbert grows repentant of his harshness, and particularly of his unkindness in killing the dog, the play comes to a happy end. The piece is said to be brilliantly mounted and well acted, particularly by Miss Seligman as the heroine, whose gown of yellow satin, covered with blue crape, is stated to have elicited “murmurs of astonished admiration by its boldness and elegance.” _____ Next: The Strange Adventures of Miss Brown (1895) Back to the Bibliography or the Plays |
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