Chris Enss's Blog - Posts Tagged "singers"
Inventing Maude
Enter to win a copy of the book Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
“I wish you could have seen Maudie that night. She was simply wriggling with excitement. It was all I could do to keep her in her dressing-room until the cue came for her to go on.... Just before the curtain went up I made her repeat her first-act lines to me. She had learned them like a parrot, to be sure, but she spoke them like a true little actress.”
Annie Adams’s comments about her daughter Maude’s first full performance at the age of 5 in November, 1877 at the Metropolitan Theatre in San Francisco.
The Palmer Theatre House in New York was jammed to the doors by a curious clientele all there to see the new actress working opposite the most celebrated actor of the day, John Drew. It was October 3, 1892 when the stunning, elfin-like Maude Adams took to the stage in the play “The Masked Ball.” At the end of the evening Drew would be congratulated on his admirable acting job, but Maude would score a hit that would be greater than his entire career.
Her performance was so successful the applause lasted for a full two minutes after she made her exit. She was on her way to becoming a star and local newspapers predicted her talent would be talked about for years to come.
“Her performance (in the Masked Ball) was a revelation. There is one scene in the second act where in order to punish her husband for some ante nuptial remarks of his she has to pretend that she is drunk. It was just touch and go whether the scene ruined the play or not. It would have been hard to devise a more crucial test for an actress of even the wildest experience and the greatest skill. In order to carry off this scene successfully it was necessary for the wife to appear to be drunk and yet be a gentlewoman at the same time. Miss Adams achieved this feat. If Miss Adams had done nothing else throughout the entire play than that one scene it would have stamped her as a comedienne of the first order forever.”
The New York Daily News - October 4, 1892
Maude Adams’s stage career began at the tender age of nine months. The play was called “The Lost Child” and the baby that was playing the lead became fussy and could not continue in the show after the first act. Maude’s mother, Annie, who was the female lead in the production, suggested her daughter take the child’s place. Maude was so good that the other baby received her two weeks notice immediately after the play ended. For the remainder of that season all the infant roles were played by little Miss Maude.
To learn more about Maude Adams and the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
“I wish you could have seen Maudie that night. She was simply wriggling with excitement. It was all I could do to keep her in her dressing-room until the cue came for her to go on.... Just before the curtain went up I made her repeat her first-act lines to me. She had learned them like a parrot, to be sure, but she spoke them like a true little actress.”
Annie Adams’s comments about her daughter Maude’s first full performance at the age of 5 in November, 1877 at the Metropolitan Theatre in San Francisco.
The Palmer Theatre House in New York was jammed to the doors by a curious clientele all there to see the new actress working opposite the most celebrated actor of the day, John Drew. It was October 3, 1892 when the stunning, elfin-like Maude Adams took to the stage in the play “The Masked Ball.” At the end of the evening Drew would be congratulated on his admirable acting job, but Maude would score a hit that would be greater than his entire career.
Her performance was so successful the applause lasted for a full two minutes after she made her exit. She was on her way to becoming a star and local newspapers predicted her talent would be talked about for years to come.
“Her performance (in the Masked Ball) was a revelation. There is one scene in the second act where in order to punish her husband for some ante nuptial remarks of his she has to pretend that she is drunk. It was just touch and go whether the scene ruined the play or not. It would have been hard to devise a more crucial test for an actress of even the wildest experience and the greatest skill. In order to carry off this scene successfully it was necessary for the wife to appear to be drunk and yet be a gentlewoman at the same time. Miss Adams achieved this feat. If Miss Adams had done nothing else throughout the entire play than that one scene it would have stamped her as a comedienne of the first order forever.”
The New York Daily News - October 4, 1892
Maude Adams’s stage career began at the tender age of nine months. The play was called “The Lost Child” and the baby that was playing the lead became fussy and could not continue in the show after the first act. Maude’s mother, Annie, who was the female lead in the production, suggested her daughter take the child’s place. Maude was so good that the other baby received her two weeks notice immediately after the play ended. For the remainder of that season all the infant roles were played by little Miss Maude.
To learn more about Maude Adams and the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
Entert to Win a Copy of Entertaining Women
Enter to win a copy of the book
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
The pliant figure leaned over the ship’s rail, expressive eyes intent on the blue-green waters of the harbor. A mass of wavy light-brown hair with tints of gold lifted and curled with every breeze, its arrangement a matter of complete indifference to the angler. Suddenly the slender form froze, breath held, and then, with a quick yank and a breaking smile, lifted the rod and hauled a wriggling fish aboard the Cabrillo. Exclaiming in French, dark eyes sparkling with pleasure, Sarah Bernhardt ordered her catch, small as it was, to be prepared for dinner.
It was May 19, 1906, and the farewell production of Camille was scheduled for a few hours later at the ocean auditorium built on the water at Venice, California. Sarah stayed, and fished, at the hotel built like a ship, and she performed in the adjacent theater on the wharf at the seaside resort, Venice of America. Having caught a fish, Sarah wended her way to her quarters. Piled high in her dressing room were the results of a recent shopping trip to the Oriental bazaar nearby: silk and crepe matinee coats of pink and pale blue and mauve, all embroidered with butterflies and bamboo designs.
The tiny window in the dressing room provided a sparkling view of the ocean, and the streaming sunshine picked out details of the furnishings: a repoussé silver powder box, containers of pigment, eyebrow pencils, silver rouge pots, and scattered jewelry twinkling in the light. The tragedienne who attracted huge audiences wherever she went swooped up a small tan and white fox terrier, wriggling with joy at her return, and snuggled it close for a moment as she related the happy details of her fishing venture to a visiting reporter. Then she put down the small dog and closed her mind to the fun waiting outside the porthole.
Within moments Sarah became Marguerite Gautier, filled with the sadness and torment of the beautiful French courtesan in Camille, the play by Alexandre Dumas that became her signature role, performed all over the world more than three thousand times. Sarah’s ability to sink fully into the character of the play made the tragic death scene so convincing that it became a trademark for “the Divine Sarah.”
No one played tragedy with such believable intensity as Sarah Bernhardt, and no one brought as much passion and enthusiasm to the pursuit of pleasure. From fishing on the Southern California coast to bear hunting in the woods outside Seattle, on every western tour the French actress indulged in some kind of adventure. Sarah Bernhardt threw herself into life with the same characteristic energy she put into her stage appearances. Yet she often slept in a coffin, preparing for that final sleep.
To learn more about Sarah Bernhardt and about the other talented performers of the Old West read
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
The pliant figure leaned over the ship’s rail, expressive eyes intent on the blue-green waters of the harbor. A mass of wavy light-brown hair with tints of gold lifted and curled with every breeze, its arrangement a matter of complete indifference to the angler. Suddenly the slender form froze, breath held, and then, with a quick yank and a breaking smile, lifted the rod and hauled a wriggling fish aboard the Cabrillo. Exclaiming in French, dark eyes sparkling with pleasure, Sarah Bernhardt ordered her catch, small as it was, to be prepared for dinner.
It was May 19, 1906, and the farewell production of Camille was scheduled for a few hours later at the ocean auditorium built on the water at Venice, California. Sarah stayed, and fished, at the hotel built like a ship, and she performed in the adjacent theater on the wharf at the seaside resort, Venice of America. Having caught a fish, Sarah wended her way to her quarters. Piled high in her dressing room were the results of a recent shopping trip to the Oriental bazaar nearby: silk and crepe matinee coats of pink and pale blue and mauve, all embroidered with butterflies and bamboo designs.
The tiny window in the dressing room provided a sparkling view of the ocean, and the streaming sunshine picked out details of the furnishings: a repoussé silver powder box, containers of pigment, eyebrow pencils, silver rouge pots, and scattered jewelry twinkling in the light. The tragedienne who attracted huge audiences wherever she went swooped up a small tan and white fox terrier, wriggling with joy at her return, and snuggled it close for a moment as she related the happy details of her fishing venture to a visiting reporter. Then she put down the small dog and closed her mind to the fun waiting outside the porthole.
Within moments Sarah became Marguerite Gautier, filled with the sadness and torment of the beautiful French courtesan in Camille, the play by Alexandre Dumas that became her signature role, performed all over the world more than three thousand times. Sarah’s ability to sink fully into the character of the play made the tragic death scene so convincing that it became a trademark for “the Divine Sarah.”
No one played tragedy with such believable intensity as Sarah Bernhardt, and no one brought as much passion and enthusiasm to the pursuit of pleasure. From fishing on the Southern California coast to bear hunting in the woods outside Seattle, on every western tour the French actress indulged in some kind of adventure. Sarah Bernhardt threw herself into life with the same characteristic energy she put into her stage appearances. Yet she often slept in a coffin, preparing for that final sleep.
To learn more about Sarah Bernhardt and about the other talented performers of the Old West read
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
The Actress in Trousers
Enter to win a copy of the book
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, the incomparable Charlotte Cushman.
It was a cold evening in the early spring of 1859 when the well-known actress Charlotte Cushman debuted in Shakespeare’s Hamlet at the Metropolitan Theatre in San Francisco. The city’s most wealthy and influential people arrived by carriage. Throngs of curious bystanders eager to see the aristocrat hovered around the walkway leading into the building. The fine, brick edifice rivaled the most notable on the East Coast.
Inside, the grand hall was fitted with the most ornate fixtures and could seat comfortably upwards to a thousand people. From the private boxes to the gallery, every part of the immense building was crowded to excess. Charlotte Cushman was recognized by theatre goers as the “greatest living tragic actress,” and everyone who was anyone wanted to see her perform. Several women had won fame with their impersonations of male characters in various dramas, but critics and fans alike regarded Charlotte as the best of them all.
In 1845, a theatrical reviewer in London had written about one of Charlotte’s performances in glowing terms. “Miss Cushman’s Hamlet must henceforth be ranked among her best performances. Every scene was warm and animated, and at once conveyed the impression of the character. There was no forced or elaborate attempt at feeling or expression. You were addressed by the whole mind; passion spoke in every feature, and the illusion was forcible and perfect.”
The audience that flocked to see the exceptionally talented Charlotte in California was not only treated to a “forcible and perfect” interpretation of Hamlet, but that evening they were also treated to a display of the actress’ temper.
To learn just what caused Charlotte’s temper to explode, how her acting career began, and about the other talented performers of the
Old West read
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, the incomparable Charlotte Cushman.
It was a cold evening in the early spring of 1859 when the well-known actress Charlotte Cushman debuted in Shakespeare’s Hamlet at the Metropolitan Theatre in San Francisco. The city’s most wealthy and influential people arrived by carriage. Throngs of curious bystanders eager to see the aristocrat hovered around the walkway leading into the building. The fine, brick edifice rivaled the most notable on the East Coast.
Inside, the grand hall was fitted with the most ornate fixtures and could seat comfortably upwards to a thousand people. From the private boxes to the gallery, every part of the immense building was crowded to excess. Charlotte Cushman was recognized by theatre goers as the “greatest living tragic actress,” and everyone who was anyone wanted to see her perform. Several women had won fame with their impersonations of male characters in various dramas, but critics and fans alike regarded Charlotte as the best of them all.
In 1845, a theatrical reviewer in London had written about one of Charlotte’s performances in glowing terms. “Miss Cushman’s Hamlet must henceforth be ranked among her best performances. Every scene was warm and animated, and at once conveyed the impression of the character. There was no forced or elaborate attempt at feeling or expression. You were addressed by the whole mind; passion spoke in every feature, and the illusion was forcible and perfect.”
The audience that flocked to see the exceptionally talented Charlotte in California was not only treated to a “forcible and perfect” interpretation of Hamlet, but that evening they were also treated to a display of the actress’ temper.
To learn just what caused Charlotte’s temper to explode, how her acting career began, and about the other talented performers of the
Old West read
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
The Talented Divorcee
Enter to win a copy of the book
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, the Talented Divorcee.
Shakespearean actor Edwin Forrest rifled through the desk drawer in the sitting room of the New York home he shared with this wife, socialite turned actress and theatre manager Catherine Norton Sinclair. The contents of the drawer belonged to Catherine, but Edwin wasn’t interested in maintaining her privacy. In his frantic search, he uncovered a worn and rumpled letter written to his bride from fellow thespian, George Jamieson. “And now, sweetest, our brief dream is over; and such a dream!” the correspondence began. “Have we not known real bliss? Have we not realized what poets have to set up as an ideal state, giving full license to their imagination, scarcely believing in its reality? Have we not experienced the truth that ecstasy is not fiction? And oh, what an additional delight to think, no, to know, that I have made some happy hours with you… With these considerations, dearest, our separation, though painful will not be unendurable; I am happy, and with you to remember and the blissful anticipation of seeing you again, shall remain so…” Jamieson’s declaration of his feelings for Catherine ended with a promise to do “my utmost to be worthy of your love.”
Edwin reread the letter with poised dignity and on its completion sank into the nearest chair, cursing the day he had met the woman he had married. After a few moments, he arose and frantically paced about the room. He denounced Catherine for her infidelity and fell to the floor weeping uncontrollably. According to Edwin’s biographer William Rounseville Alger, Edwin was “struck to the heart with surprise, grief, and rage.” Catherine’s take on Edwin’s reaction and the circumstances surrounding her husband reading the letter are vastly different from Alger’s account. Almost from the moment the pair met, Edwin was jealous of everyone Catherine knew in her social standing and did not shy away from making a scene.
Catherine was born near London in 1818 to Scottish parents who had four children in all. Her father, John Sinclair, was a well-known vocalist who had toured America in 1831 and 1833. Historical records note that Catherine was endowed with natural beauty, and, whatever the quality and quantity of her formal and social education, she had in her teens acquired a sparkle and vivacity that attracted men. She was popular and well-liked and attended formal soirees, theatre openings, and art exhibits with a myriad of friends from all walks of life.
To learn more about how Catherine Norton Sinclair’s acting career began and about the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
visit www.chrisenss.com for more information.
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, the Talented Divorcee.
Shakespearean actor Edwin Forrest rifled through the desk drawer in the sitting room of the New York home he shared with this wife, socialite turned actress and theatre manager Catherine Norton Sinclair. The contents of the drawer belonged to Catherine, but Edwin wasn’t interested in maintaining her privacy. In his frantic search, he uncovered a worn and rumpled letter written to his bride from fellow thespian, George Jamieson. “And now, sweetest, our brief dream is over; and such a dream!” the correspondence began. “Have we not known real bliss? Have we not realized what poets have to set up as an ideal state, giving full license to their imagination, scarcely believing in its reality? Have we not experienced the truth that ecstasy is not fiction? And oh, what an additional delight to think, no, to know, that I have made some happy hours with you… With these considerations, dearest, our separation, though painful will not be unendurable; I am happy, and with you to remember and the blissful anticipation of seeing you again, shall remain so…” Jamieson’s declaration of his feelings for Catherine ended with a promise to do “my utmost to be worthy of your love.”
Edwin reread the letter with poised dignity and on its completion sank into the nearest chair, cursing the day he had met the woman he had married. After a few moments, he arose and frantically paced about the room. He denounced Catherine for her infidelity and fell to the floor weeping uncontrollably. According to Edwin’s biographer William Rounseville Alger, Edwin was “struck to the heart with surprise, grief, and rage.” Catherine’s take on Edwin’s reaction and the circumstances surrounding her husband reading the letter are vastly different from Alger’s account. Almost from the moment the pair met, Edwin was jealous of everyone Catherine knew in her social standing and did not shy away from making a scene.
Catherine was born near London in 1818 to Scottish parents who had four children in all. Her father, John Sinclair, was a well-known vocalist who had toured America in 1831 and 1833. Historical records note that Catherine was endowed with natural beauty, and, whatever the quality and quantity of her formal and social education, she had in her teens acquired a sparkle and vivacity that attracted men. She was popular and well-liked and attended formal soirees, theatre openings, and art exhibits with a myriad of friends from all walks of life.
To learn more about how Catherine Norton Sinclair’s acting career began and about the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
visit www.chrisenss.com for more information.
The Irish Prima Donna
Enter to win a copy of the book
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Catherine Hayes, the Irish Prima Donna
A demure ten-year-old girl sat in front of a clear blue river, half hidden under a canopy of willow trees in a lush garden, singing. Her silvery-toned voice resonated across the water and filled the afternoon sky with a melancholy sound. Couples canoeing on the river paddled toward the song, halted their boats, and waited in the shadows of the trees, listening. No one said a word. Not even a whisper gave away their position to the unknowing girl. Indeed she didn't realize anyone was paying attention until she finished her tune and rapturous applause commenced. Thus was the romantic beginning of Kate Hayes’s singing career.
When Catherine (Kate) Hayes was born in July 1823 in Ireland, her mother, Mary, compared the child’s features to those of a cherub. Her talent for singing like an angel was soon revealed.
Kate’s father, Arthur, abandoned her and her sister when they were small children, leaving the family destitute; consequently, Kate and her sister were forced to go to work as soon as they were old enough. From the age of eight, Kate worked a variety of jobs, from caring for infants to scrubbing inn floors. At nineteen she found employment as an assistant to a charwoman. She sang as she cleaned the homes she worked in, and passersby who overheard her were astonished at her remarkable voice.
Bishop Edmond Knox of Limerick heard Kate singing as he was passing by one of the homes she was cleaning, and he proclaimed that she had the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. He was the first to recognize her potential and consequently took her on as his protégé. Bishop Knox consulted with friends and, along his wife Agnus, helped raise the necessary funds to send Kate to Dublin with letters of introduction to the accomplished vocalist and voice teacher Professor Antonio Sapio.
Professor Sapio agreed to train the young girl, as her voice possessed a clearness and mellowness he had rarely heard before. One month after her arrival in Dublin, Kate made her first formal public appearance at a concert hosted by her instructor. The discriminating audience was impressed by her talent, and the reviews in the newspaper the following day reflected the crowd’s pleasure. Intuitively, Sapio knew his protégé required more specialized training than he could provide and encouraged Catherine to continue her studies in France.
Bearing a letter of introduction from celebrated pianist George Osborne, Kate arrived in Paris in October 1844. Manuel Garcia, a renowned voice instructor who also taught other singers such as Jenny Lind, Maria Malibran, and Henriette Sontag, became her vocal teacher.
Garcia taught Kate everything he could, then sent her to Italy to study for a career in opera. She concentrated on language arts and drama. In Milan, she met many influential theater patrons who arranged for her to audition for Giuseppe Provini, manager of the Italian Opera in Marseilles, France. Provini was so taken by her talent that he scheduled her operatic debut on May 10, 1845, as Elvira in Bellini’s opera I Puritani. She was discovered by an American stage producer shortly after her debut in Italy. The producer quickly whisked her off to the United States.
To learn more about how Catherine Hayes’ singing career began and about the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Catherine Hayes, the Irish Prima Donna
A demure ten-year-old girl sat in front of a clear blue river, half hidden under a canopy of willow trees in a lush garden, singing. Her silvery-toned voice resonated across the water and filled the afternoon sky with a melancholy sound. Couples canoeing on the river paddled toward the song, halted their boats, and waited in the shadows of the trees, listening. No one said a word. Not even a whisper gave away their position to the unknowing girl. Indeed she didn't realize anyone was paying attention until she finished her tune and rapturous applause commenced. Thus was the romantic beginning of Kate Hayes’s singing career.
When Catherine (Kate) Hayes was born in July 1823 in Ireland, her mother, Mary, compared the child’s features to those of a cherub. Her talent for singing like an angel was soon revealed.
Kate’s father, Arthur, abandoned her and her sister when they were small children, leaving the family destitute; consequently, Kate and her sister were forced to go to work as soon as they were old enough. From the age of eight, Kate worked a variety of jobs, from caring for infants to scrubbing inn floors. At nineteen she found employment as an assistant to a charwoman. She sang as she cleaned the homes she worked in, and passersby who overheard her were astonished at her remarkable voice.
Bishop Edmond Knox of Limerick heard Kate singing as he was passing by one of the homes she was cleaning, and he proclaimed that she had the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. He was the first to recognize her potential and consequently took her on as his protégé. Bishop Knox consulted with friends and, along his wife Agnus, helped raise the necessary funds to send Kate to Dublin with letters of introduction to the accomplished vocalist and voice teacher Professor Antonio Sapio.
Professor Sapio agreed to train the young girl, as her voice possessed a clearness and mellowness he had rarely heard before. One month after her arrival in Dublin, Kate made her first formal public appearance at a concert hosted by her instructor. The discriminating audience was impressed by her talent, and the reviews in the newspaper the following day reflected the crowd’s pleasure. Intuitively, Sapio knew his protégé required more specialized training than he could provide and encouraged Catherine to continue her studies in France.
Bearing a letter of introduction from celebrated pianist George Osborne, Kate arrived in Paris in October 1844. Manuel Garcia, a renowned voice instructor who also taught other singers such as Jenny Lind, Maria Malibran, and Henriette Sontag, became her vocal teacher.
Garcia taught Kate everything he could, then sent her to Italy to study for a career in opera. She concentrated on language arts and drama. In Milan, she met many influential theater patrons who arranged for her to audition for Giuseppe Provini, manager of the Italian Opera in Marseilles, France. Provini was so taken by her talent that he scheduled her operatic debut on May 10, 1845, as Elvira in Bellini’s opera I Puritani. She was discovered by an American stage producer shortly after her debut in Italy. The producer quickly whisked her off to the United States.
To learn more about how Catherine Hayes’ singing career began and about the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
The Jersey Lille
Time to enter to win a copy of the book
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Lillie Langtry, the Jersey Lillie
At 23 years-old Lillie Langtry’s striking looks were inspiring poets to write sonnets about her grace and pen and ink artists to sketch her elegant profile. She was known as a “Professional Beauty,” one of a handful of women in England with such arresting features they were invited to the finest soirées just so guests could admire them. Langtry was a tall, curvaceous lady with Titian red hair and portraits of her sold in shops for a penny.
Emile Charlotte LeBrenton was born to William Corbet and Emile Martin LeBreton in October of 1853 on the Isle of Jersey, a few miles off the coast of Saint-Malo, France. She was the only daughter in a family of six children. Her mother called her “Lillie,” which fit the beautiful child with lily-white skin.
Her education included studies in history, the classics and early theatre. By the time she turned 20 she had developed a love for theatre and a strong desire to leave her birthplace and see the world she had read so much about.
She married Edward Langtry on March 9, 1874, not long after watching his yacht sail into the Jersey harbor. He took her away from her home to England where they met and mingled with the country’s most renowned aristocrats. Their marriage would not survive the attention Lillie received from male admirers and friends who persuaded her to pursue a career on stage. The two separated after the birth of their daughter in April 1881.
Theatre owners looking for a chance to capitalize on the well-known siren’s popularity, invited her to join their acting troupe. Knowing that they were attracted only by her beauty, she refused all offers, deciding instead to take acting lessons. For months she trained with the critically acclaimed actress Henrietta Hodson Labouchere and on December 15, 1881, made her acting debut at the Theatre Royal in Westminster.
Lillie’s performance was stunning and audiences filled the house nightly. Labouchere became her manager and arranged for her pupil to appear at the most prestigious playhouses in England and Scotland. New York theatre owner and producer Henry Abbey saw Lillie in a show in Edinburgh and was instantly captivated by her talent. He wrote Henrietta with a generous proposal for Lillie, including an offer of 50 percent of the gross proceeds from her shows. Henrietta encourage her student to accept, but Lillie held out for 65 percent of the gross and payment of all her travel expenses.
To learn more about how Lillie Langtry’s singing career began and about the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
For more information visit www.chrisenss.com
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Lillie Langtry, the Jersey Lillie
At 23 years-old Lillie Langtry’s striking looks were inspiring poets to write sonnets about her grace and pen and ink artists to sketch her elegant profile. She was known as a “Professional Beauty,” one of a handful of women in England with such arresting features they were invited to the finest soirées just so guests could admire them. Langtry was a tall, curvaceous lady with Titian red hair and portraits of her sold in shops for a penny.
Emile Charlotte LeBrenton was born to William Corbet and Emile Martin LeBreton in October of 1853 on the Isle of Jersey, a few miles off the coast of Saint-Malo, France. She was the only daughter in a family of six children. Her mother called her “Lillie,” which fit the beautiful child with lily-white skin.
Her education included studies in history, the classics and early theatre. By the time she turned 20 she had developed a love for theatre and a strong desire to leave her birthplace and see the world she had read so much about.
She married Edward Langtry on March 9, 1874, not long after watching his yacht sail into the Jersey harbor. He took her away from her home to England where they met and mingled with the country’s most renowned aristocrats. Their marriage would not survive the attention Lillie received from male admirers and friends who persuaded her to pursue a career on stage. The two separated after the birth of their daughter in April 1881.
Theatre owners looking for a chance to capitalize on the well-known siren’s popularity, invited her to join their acting troupe. Knowing that they were attracted only by her beauty, she refused all offers, deciding instead to take acting lessons. For months she trained with the critically acclaimed actress Henrietta Hodson Labouchere and on December 15, 1881, made her acting debut at the Theatre Royal in Westminster.
Lillie’s performance was stunning and audiences filled the house nightly. Labouchere became her manager and arranged for her pupil to appear at the most prestigious playhouses in England and Scotland. New York theatre owner and producer Henry Abbey saw Lillie in a show in Edinburgh and was instantly captivated by her talent. He wrote Henrietta with a generous proposal for Lillie, including an offer of 50 percent of the gross proceeds from her shows. Henrietta encourage her student to accept, but Lillie held out for 65 percent of the gross and payment of all her travel expenses.
To learn more about how Lillie Langtry’s singing career began and about the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
For more information visit www.chrisenss.com
The Countess of Landsfeld
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Lola Montez, the Countess of Landsfeld
Lola stood quietly in the middle of the stage at the Bella Union Saloon in San Francisco and let the audience gaze up at her. She was a captivating beauty with dark, curly hair. Men from the various mining camps around traveled to town nightly to see the “fair-skinned woman with the pretty face.” She always began her act the same way:
“Good evening, gentlemen. I am Lola Montez. I was born in the year 1830, in Seville, the capital of Andalucía, the land of the serenades and balconies, of troubadours and romance - the fatherland of Miguel Cervantes, of Las Casas of the Roman Emperors Trajan and Theodosius.”
After the short introduction the music would start and the audience would cheer wildly. Lola would dance out on stage wearing flesh colored tights and a crinoline skirt. The excited crowd didn’t know that most of what she had just told them about herself was a lie. Lola had spent so many years creating her fictitious background that she had probably forgotten what the truth was anyway. And as long as the house was packed with men who paid to see her, she didn’t care.
Lola was actually born in 1818 in Ireland and her name was really Marie Dolores Eliza Rosanna Gilbert. By the time she had reached the Gold Country in 1851, she had already built a reputation for herself as a woman who possessed extravagant charm and thrived on adventure.
Like many other entertainers, Lola had come to California to enjoy the rewards of the Gold Rush. Stories of gold being tossed at the feet of performers lured many singing and dancing acts west. Lonesome and bored miners had an insatiable appetite for entertainment and they were willing to pay handsomely to see shows and variety acts. Lola Montez became one of the most popular performers of her time.
Lola was well known for a number she called the “Spider Dance.” She wore a risqué costume and fluttered around the stage pretending to be trapped inside a spider’s web. The music and dance became more and more frantic as giant tarantulas made of cork were dropped down on her from high above the stage. The curious miners were thrilled and shocked at the display. Lola’s dancing brought her high praise, but some found the scene a little too provocative for their taste.
To learn more about how Lola Montez’s career began and about the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Lola Montez, the Countess of Landsfeld
Lola stood quietly in the middle of the stage at the Bella Union Saloon in San Francisco and let the audience gaze up at her. She was a captivating beauty with dark, curly hair. Men from the various mining camps around traveled to town nightly to see the “fair-skinned woman with the pretty face.” She always began her act the same way:
“Good evening, gentlemen. I am Lola Montez. I was born in the year 1830, in Seville, the capital of Andalucía, the land of the serenades and balconies, of troubadours and romance - the fatherland of Miguel Cervantes, of Las Casas of the Roman Emperors Trajan and Theodosius.”
After the short introduction the music would start and the audience would cheer wildly. Lola would dance out on stage wearing flesh colored tights and a crinoline skirt. The excited crowd didn’t know that most of what she had just told them about herself was a lie. Lola had spent so many years creating her fictitious background that she had probably forgotten what the truth was anyway. And as long as the house was packed with men who paid to see her, she didn’t care.
Lola was actually born in 1818 in Ireland and her name was really Marie Dolores Eliza Rosanna Gilbert. By the time she had reached the Gold Country in 1851, she had already built a reputation for herself as a woman who possessed extravagant charm and thrived on adventure.
Like many other entertainers, Lola had come to California to enjoy the rewards of the Gold Rush. Stories of gold being tossed at the feet of performers lured many singing and dancing acts west. Lonesome and bored miners had an insatiable appetite for entertainment and they were willing to pay handsomely to see shows and variety acts. Lola Montez became one of the most popular performers of her time.
Lola was well known for a number she called the “Spider Dance.” She wore a risqué costume and fluttered around the stage pretending to be trapped inside a spider’s web. The music and dance became more and more frantic as giant tarantulas made of cork were dropped down on her from high above the stage. The curious miners were thrilled and shocked at the display. Lola’s dancing brought her high praise, but some found the scene a little too provocative for their taste.
To learn more about how Lola Montez’s career began and about the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
The Tragic Songbird
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Dora Hand, the Tragic Songbird
Dora Hand was in a deep sleep. Her bare legs were draped across the thick blankets covering her delicate form and a mass of long, auburn hair stretched over the pillow under her head and dangled off the top of a flimsy mattress. Her breathing was slow and effortless. A framed, graphite- charcoal portrait of an elderly couple hung above her bed on faded, satin-ribbon wallpaper and kept company with her slumber.
The air outside the window next to the picture was still and cold. The distant sound of voices, back-slapping laughter, profanity, and a piano’s tinny, repetitious melody wafted down Dodge City, Kansas’s main thoroughfare and snuck into the small room where Dora was laying.
Dodge was an all night town. Walkers and loungers kept the streets and saloons busy. Residents learned to sleep through the giggling, growling, and gunplay of the cowboy consumers and their paramours for hire. Dora was accustomed to the nightly frivolity and clatter. Her dreams were seldom disturbed by the commotion.
All at once the hard thud of a pair of bullets charging through the wall of the tiny room cut through the routine noises of the cattle town with an uneven, gusty violence. The first bullet was halted by the dense plaster partition leading into the bed chambers. The second struck Dora on the right side under her arm. There was no time for her to object to the injury, no moment for her to cry out or recoil in pain. The slug killed her instantly.
In the near distance a horse squealed and its galloping hooves echoed off the dusty street and faded away.
A pool of blood pored out of Dora’s fatal wound, transforming the white sheets she rested on to crimson. A clock sitting on a nightstand next to the lifeless body ticked on steadily and mercilessly. It was 4:30 in the morning on October 4, 1878, and for the moment, nothing but the persistent moonlight filtering into the scene through a closed window recognized the 34 year-old woman’s passing.
Twenty-four hours prior to Dora being gunned down in her sleep she had been on stage at the Alhambra Saloon and Gambling House. She was a stunning woman whose wholesome voice and exquisite features had charmed audiences from Abilene to Austin. She regaled love starved wranglers and rough riders at stage and railroad stops with her heartfelt rendition of the popular ballads Blessed Be the Ties That Bind and Because I Love You So.
To learn more about how Dora Hand’s career began and about the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
Visit www.chrisenss.com for more information.
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Dora Hand, the Tragic Songbird
Dora Hand was in a deep sleep. Her bare legs were draped across the thick blankets covering her delicate form and a mass of long, auburn hair stretched over the pillow under her head and dangled off the top of a flimsy mattress. Her breathing was slow and effortless. A framed, graphite- charcoal portrait of an elderly couple hung above her bed on faded, satin-ribbon wallpaper and kept company with her slumber.
The air outside the window next to the picture was still and cold. The distant sound of voices, back-slapping laughter, profanity, and a piano’s tinny, repetitious melody wafted down Dodge City, Kansas’s main thoroughfare and snuck into the small room where Dora was laying.
Dodge was an all night town. Walkers and loungers kept the streets and saloons busy. Residents learned to sleep through the giggling, growling, and gunplay of the cowboy consumers and their paramours for hire. Dora was accustomed to the nightly frivolity and clatter. Her dreams were seldom disturbed by the commotion.
All at once the hard thud of a pair of bullets charging through the wall of the tiny room cut through the routine noises of the cattle town with an uneven, gusty violence. The first bullet was halted by the dense plaster partition leading into the bed chambers. The second struck Dora on the right side under her arm. There was no time for her to object to the injury, no moment for her to cry out or recoil in pain. The slug killed her instantly.
In the near distance a horse squealed and its galloping hooves echoed off the dusty street and faded away.
A pool of blood pored out of Dora’s fatal wound, transforming the white sheets she rested on to crimson. A clock sitting on a nightstand next to the lifeless body ticked on steadily and mercilessly. It was 4:30 in the morning on October 4, 1878, and for the moment, nothing but the persistent moonlight filtering into the scene through a closed window recognized the 34 year-old woman’s passing.
Twenty-four hours prior to Dora being gunned down in her sleep she had been on stage at the Alhambra Saloon and Gambling House. She was a stunning woman whose wholesome voice and exquisite features had charmed audiences from Abilene to Austin. She regaled love starved wranglers and rough riders at stage and railroad stops with her heartfelt rendition of the popular ballads Blessed Be the Ties That Bind and Because I Love You So.
To learn more about how Dora Hand’s career began and about the other talented performers of the Old West read Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West.
Visit www.chrisenss.com for more information.
The Forlorn Leading Lady
Enter to win a copy of
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Winners will be announced on February 28, 2016
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Jeanne Eagels, the Forlorn Leading Lady
Triumph and tragedy, alternating strangely throughout her life converged on the night on October 3, 1929, when Jeanne Eagels, beautiful and famous actress, suddenly collapsed and died. At a time when her health seemed much improved and she was planning a comeback to the Broadway that had barred her for eighteen months, the black curtain descended noiselessly and swiftly.
It brought to an end the drama of a woman who had made a sensational rise to the heights of theatrical stardom, a woman men clamored for and loved, perhaps too well. Romance, broken hearts, success and defeat, adulation and repudiation - a pageant of experiences and emotions - had paraded through her life. And in the end Jeanne Eagels was the same woman she had been years before - a proud, tempestuous spirit seeking bewilderingly for some distant horizon of happiness.
On her last day alive it probably did not seem to her that death was in the wings. If so, it made no difference. For that night she dressed in her most elaborate and beautiful clothes. She was planning to join a Broadway party. Broadway! The street which soon, she thought, would once more echo to her name and where incandescents would spell it out in glittering letters.
But hardly had she dressed when she suddenly fell faint. The night before she had taken an overdose of a solution of a sleep-producing drug called chloral hydrate. She was rushed from her Park Avenue home to a private sanitarium. They brought her into a room for an examination. She sat on the bed a moment, and then wearily took off her coat. It revealed her in all her glory. Jewels shone magnificently. Diamonds and pearls sparkled on her fingers, about her neck and on her wrist.
She signed. There was only a nurse to see this last act. She sank on the bed in convulsions. A little later she was lifeless. And then Broadway and the whole world learned with astonishment of her sudden passing.
To learn more about Jeanne Eagels career and the events that led to her untimely death read
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the
Old West.
Visit www.chrisenss.com for more information.
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Winners will be announced on February 28, 2016
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Jeanne Eagels, the Forlorn Leading Lady
Triumph and tragedy, alternating strangely throughout her life converged on the night on October 3, 1929, when Jeanne Eagels, beautiful and famous actress, suddenly collapsed and died. At a time when her health seemed much improved and she was planning a comeback to the Broadway that had barred her for eighteen months, the black curtain descended noiselessly and swiftly.
It brought to an end the drama of a woman who had made a sensational rise to the heights of theatrical stardom, a woman men clamored for and loved, perhaps too well. Romance, broken hearts, success and defeat, adulation and repudiation - a pageant of experiences and emotions - had paraded through her life. And in the end Jeanne Eagels was the same woman she had been years before - a proud, tempestuous spirit seeking bewilderingly for some distant horizon of happiness.
On her last day alive it probably did not seem to her that death was in the wings. If so, it made no difference. For that night she dressed in her most elaborate and beautiful clothes. She was planning to join a Broadway party. Broadway! The street which soon, she thought, would once more echo to her name and where incandescents would spell it out in glittering letters.
But hardly had she dressed when she suddenly fell faint. The night before she had taken an overdose of a solution of a sleep-producing drug called chloral hydrate. She was rushed from her Park Avenue home to a private sanitarium. They brought her into a room for an examination. She sat on the bed a moment, and then wearily took off her coat. It revealed her in all her glory. Jewels shone magnificently. Diamonds and pearls sparkled on her fingers, about her neck and on her wrist.
She signed. There was only a nurse to see this last act. She sank on the bed in convulsions. A little later she was lifeless. And then Broadway and the whole world learned with astonishment of her sudden passing.
To learn more about Jeanne Eagels career and the events that led to her untimely death read
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the
Old West.
Visit www.chrisenss.com for more information.
America's Greatest Beauty
Enter to win a copy of
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Winners will be announced on February 28, 2016
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Lillian Russell,
America’s Greatest Beauty
It was not so much the late Lillian Russell’s great dramatic ability or her clear, well-trained voice as her personality and physical beauty that made her the most famous musical comedy star of her day and acclaimed for more than a generation as “America’s Greatest Beauty.” And after she had ceased to sing and act for the public the compelling charms that had lifted her to the stage’s topmost pinnacle persisted and made her up to the very day of her death one of the most admired of women.
Other women marveled to see how Lillian Russell, as she neared sixty years of age, still retained the clear complexion, soft skin, unwrinkled face, youthful expression and all the vivacity of earlier life.
How did she achieve this modern miracles? What was the secret of her unfading beauty.
Lillian Russell made no secret of some of the measures and means she employed to retain her extraordinary good looks, but she did not tell the whole story. She did not say that in addition to the baths, cold creams, cosmetics, exercise and wholesome living she made liberal use of common sense, self-control, persistence, energy and cheerfulness-factors neglected by many women who faithfully follow her other formulas.
She employed the combination of mental qualities and drug store and beauty parlor accessories not only during her whole stage career, but long after the time when most women realize that they are growing old and believing that they have become passé and unattractive, make no effort to improve their appearance. At sixty Lillian Russell was even more careful of her appearance her face and figure, than she was at twenty or thirty.
To learn more about
Lillian Russell’s career and her beauty regiments, read
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the
Old West.
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Winners will be announced on February 28, 2016
Entertaining Women:
Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the Old West
Long before actors were vying for an Oscar nomination and world wide fame thespians were trying to carve out a modest living entertaining prospectors and settlers of the Old West. Today the curtain goes up on a woman entertainer who captured the hearts of the western pioneers.
Ladies and gentlemen, Lillian Russell,
America’s Greatest Beauty
It was not so much the late Lillian Russell’s great dramatic ability or her clear, well-trained voice as her personality and physical beauty that made her the most famous musical comedy star of her day and acclaimed for more than a generation as “America’s Greatest Beauty.” And after she had ceased to sing and act for the public the compelling charms that had lifted her to the stage’s topmost pinnacle persisted and made her up to the very day of her death one of the most admired of women.
Other women marveled to see how Lillian Russell, as she neared sixty years of age, still retained the clear complexion, soft skin, unwrinkled face, youthful expression and all the vivacity of earlier life.
How did she achieve this modern miracles? What was the secret of her unfading beauty.
Lillian Russell made no secret of some of the measures and means she employed to retain her extraordinary good looks, but she did not tell the whole story. She did not say that in addition to the baths, cold creams, cosmetics, exercise and wholesome living she made liberal use of common sense, self-control, persistence, energy and cheerfulness-factors neglected by many women who faithfully follow her other formulas.
She employed the combination of mental qualities and drug store and beauty parlor accessories not only during her whole stage career, but long after the time when most women realize that they are growing old and believing that they have become passé and unattractive, make no effort to improve their appearance. At sixty Lillian Russell was even more careful of her appearance her face and figure, than she was at twenty or thirty.
To learn more about
Lillian Russell’s career and her beauty regiments, read
Entertaining Women: Actresses, Dancers, and Singers in the
Old West.
