photographic pictures which will flood the town.
Unquestionably Miss Anderson never looked so well
as a statue, both lifeless and animated, never comported
herself with such grace, never gave such a perfect
embodiment of purity and innocence. In marble
she was a statue motionless; in life she was a statue
half warmed. There are those who believe, or who
try to persuade themselves, that this is all Galatea
has to do—to appear behind a curtain as
a ‘pose plastique,’ to make an excellent
’tableau vivant,’ and to wear Greek
drapery, as if she had stepped down from a niche in
the Acropolis. All this Miss Mary Anderson does
to perfection. She is a living, breathing statue.
A more beautiful object in its innocent severity the
stage has seldom seen. But is this all that Galatea
has to do? Those who have studied Mr. Gilbert’s
poem will scarcely say so. Galatea descended
from her pedestal has to become human, and has to
reconcile her audience to the contradictory position
of a woman, who, presumably innocent of the world
and its ways, is unconsciously cynical and exquisitely
pathetic. We grant that it is a most difficult
part to play. Only an artist can give effect
to the comedy, or touch the true chord of sentiment
that underlies the idea of Galatea. But to make
Galatea consistently inhuman, persistently frigid,
and monotonously spiritual, is, if not absolutely
incorrect, at least glaringly ineffective. If
Galatea does not become a breathing, living woman
when she descends from her pedestal, a woman capable
of love, a woman with a foreshadowing of passion,
a woman of tears and tenderness, then the play goes
for nothing.... Miss Anderson reads Galatea in
a severe fashion. She is a Galatea perfectly
formed, whose heart has not yet been adjusted.
She shrinks from humanity. She wants to be classical
and severe, and her last cry to Pygmalion, instead
of being the utterance of a tortured soul, is ‘monotonous
and hollow as a ghost’s.’ It is with
no desire to be discourteous that we venture any comparison
between the Galatea of Miss Anderson and of Mrs. Kendal.
The comparison should only be made on the point of
reading. Yet surely there can be no doubt that
Mrs. Kendal’s idea of Galatea, while appealing
to the heart, is more dramatically effective.
It illumines the poem.”
The Times, 28th January, 1884.
“LYCEUM THEATER.
“Those who have suspected that Miss Mary Anderson was well advised in clinging to the artificial class of character hitherto associated with her engagement at the Lyceum—characters, that is to say, making little call upon the emotional faculties of their exponent—will not be disposed to modify their opinion from her ‘creation’ of the new part of distinctly higher scope in Mr. Gilbert’s one act drama, ‘Comedy and Tragedy,’ produced for the first time on Saturday night. Though passing in a single scene, this piece furnishes a more crucial test of Miss Anderson’s powers than any of her previous assumptions in this country.