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FIVE MINUTES WITH THE MIKADO.
Mikado redivirus, reincarnated in the person of Mr. R. Scott Fishe, greeted me cheerily (writes a Sketch representative) as I entered his dressing-room at the Savoy, where he was busy putting the final touches of terror to the visage of the Japanese despot—a great contrast to his own naturally frank and open features.
"I'm afraid my life has been an uneventful one," said the Mikado, with the modesty which is a genuine characteristic. "However, you may judge for yourself. As a boy, I became accustomed to singing in public, and my performing in choirs and at concerts led to my first engagement. For about three months, I appeared in a variety show at Hengler's Circus, entitled 'The Ocean Wave,' singing nautical songs with plenty or action. At the age of eighteen I was one of the chorus and understudy to Ludwig in Luscombe Searelle's 'Black Rover,' produced at the Globe.
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| THE MIKADO (MR. SCOTT FISHE.) "A more humane Mikado never did in Japan exist." |
"The piece," said my informant, with some humour, able now to look lightly on past failures, "had an uninterrupted run of six weeks." Here we were pleasantly broken in upon by the popular composer, Mr. Sidney Jones, who had come to offer the Mikado the first singing of a new song from his pen. I welcomed this new aid in drawing out the confessions I wanted, and the Mikado — by this time gorgeously arrayed in his splendidly embroidered robe of black silk —continued: "I was next in the chorus of 'Ivanhoe,' and understudied several of the baritone parts, but especially the Friar; but the engagement only lasted seven weeks."
"Yours were short runs, certainly. Of course, you were anxious to find something more permanent?"
"Precisely; and I found it in a twelve months' tour with Edwin Cleary in South America," was the reply, as the speaker's face brightened affectionately towards a photo of that impresario, which hung with distinction among many others, including one of Sir Arthur Sullivan. "We took on tour no less than ten operas, including 'The Pirates of Penzance.' 'Erminie,' and 'Pepita.'"
To my query whether this was an eventful pilgrimage, the Mikado replied in the affirmative, in a tone which implied that, in the six years between "The Ocean Wave" and "The Mikado" there had been at least one period pregnant with romantic experiences.
After leaving Valparaiso, our steamer, the John Elder, was wrecked on the rocky coast of Chili in a fog about 6a.m. By rare good-luck all the company were saved, but after much exposure. Miss Leonora Braham and Alice Ainslie Cook were among the rescued, but the boat which carried Charles Tilbury (now of the Carl Rosa Opera) and me was capsized, and how we were got ashore I really don't know. But touching terra-firma was not the end of our troubles, as we had to trudge some fifty miles over pathless country, under a broiling sun, before we could get any material assistance. Cleary and I determined to cross the Andes, from Chili to Argentina, on horseback; and, as the journey took us only six days, we beat the steamer party by one day. The prevalence of yellow fever brought the tour to an abrupt end."
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| THE MIKADO "To make the punishment fit the crime." |
During a pause, the Mikado, by way of clearing his voice, inflated his lungs, and, with the pleasure of a real artist in his peculiar gift, ran up and down his big compass, and finally treated me to some bars of his song, "From every kind of man obedience I expect," and certainly his stature seemed well calculated to command it. He is a good horseman, and of athletic and powerful build.
By this time I was curious to know what specific training, apart from actual operatic work, had produced that resonant baritone, and I directed my inquiries to that point. "All the training I have had has been in London, first with Mr. Arthur Oswald, and next with Mr. Henry Russell, the son of the famous song-composer, and a really good man. But, after all," said he, with all modesty, "I find the best training is patient experiment. When I want to produce a certain effect, I cast about until I find some means of producing it."
"The remainder of your career, I believe, may be described as Cartesian?"
"Yes. On my return from America, I was going down to the Savoy one day, when Mr. Carte met me, and asked whether I could play, that same night, Mr. Green's part of Merton in 'The Vicar of Bray' I accepted the offer, played that night, and till the end of the run."
A regular Cæsarian Veni, vidi, vici," said I; and I wrung from the Mikado the admission that his knowledge of the piano — on which, by-the-bye, he is an excellent performer — made him very rapid in rehearsal. Hence, though he is barely twenty-five, he has an exceptionally large répertoire for so young a man.
As the time for the Mikado's entrance was near, my victim summed up briefly. "I was next made over to the syndicate which produced 'Ma Mie Rosette,' and, but for ill-health — due largely to the exposure I met with in South America — I should have undertaken the part so finely played by Eugène Oudin. After six grand weeks of recruiting at San Moritz, I returned like a giant refreshed. I was engaged to play Jack in 'Jane Annie,' and this part is perhaps my first love, as is only natural with one's first success. You will, perhaps, remember me as Mr. Goldbury in 'Utopia,' as Gérard in 'Mirette,' and in the title-rôle of of 'The Chieftain.' This year I was on tour for seven months in all the large provincial towns with 'Princess Ida,' 'The Vicar of Bray,' 'Utopia,' and The Chieftain,' but I was very pleased to be back at the Savoy again for the present run. The Savoy seems like home.
" More work!" he exclaimed, in a tone which reflected legitimate pride rather than resignation, as he received his call, and went on to sing to a crowded house. Most cordially he took leave of the composer of "An Artist's Model" and myself, with the promise to send, on the morrow, the photographs here reproduced.
Page modified 18 Nov 2020