Posts Tagged ‘Tivoli (London)’

h1

Liane d’Eve, French chanteuse and dancer

April 15, 2014

Liane d’Eve (active 1903-1925), French chanteuse and dancer
(photo: Dobson, 132 Bold Street, Liverpool, circa 1919)

Liane d’Eve was born about 1878/78 in Saint-Dizier, north eastern France. She appears to have begun her career about 1902/03 and then made the first of many appearances in London at the Empire Theatre, Leicester Square, during November 1905. She also went to the United States on two occasions, the first in 1907, when she made her debut on Monday, 18 November 1907, at the New York Theatre (where she was said to have been earning £200 per week), and again in 1923. Mdlle. d’Eve resided in London for part of her career, from about 1911 until about 1920.

The Eldorado, Ostend, Belgium, July 1903
‘Au clair de la lune … . L’autre soir, à l’Eldorado, la très élégante Liane d’Eve, en chantant cette délicieuse sérénade ”Bonsoir, madame la Lune … .”, a évoqué le souvenir deces autres couplets qui bercérent notre enfance: ”Au clair de la lune, mon ami Paierrot… .”.’
(Le Carillon, Ostend, Friday, 17 July 1903, p. 2d)

‘On nous demande le nom de l’éditeur de la nouvelle danse chantée et dansée par Mme Liane d’Eve. Cette danse a été éditée par la maison Veiller, 21, rue de Choiseul. It est certain que ”la Talonnette”, par son genre distingué, sera dansée demain dans tous les salons parisiens.’
(Le Figaro, Paris, Thursday, 4 April 1907, p. 5d)

The Tivoli music hall, London, week of Monday, 8 July 1907
‘Mr. Joseph Wilson’s programme at the popular Strand resort underwent a few changes on Monday evening, the chief new-comer being Mdlle. Liane d’Eve, a French singer with an attractive personality. The chief feature of her turn is that her changes of costume are made coram publico in a specially arranged dressing-room in the centre opening of the stage. Mdlle. D’Eve has a very agreeable voice, which is heard in five songs, of which the ”Mattiche” air is the last, this being followed by the characteristic dance.’
(The Stage, London, Thursday, 11 July 1907, p. 12d)

‘Mlle. Liane D’Eve, who appeared at the Tivoli on Monday night, is no stranger to town. She appeared at the Empire over twelve months ago, not, however, in exactly identical circumstances. Mlle. D’Eve is a beautiful girl who emerges from a large picture frame at the back of the stage. She sings and dances quite delightfully, returning from time to time to her frame, which is, in fact, a little dressing-room, and there changing her costume, even to delicate details, in full view of the audience.’ (Weekly Dispatch, London, Sunday, 14 July 1907, p. 10d)

The Holborn Empire, London, week beginning Monday, 24 July 1922
‘Liane D’Eve, the French comedienne, sings a number of songs in French and English to evident approval, but no artistic purpose is served by her changing her costumes in front of the audience. Nor is her idea of coming down right among the audience in her ”Play With Me” number a practice to be encouraged. Many people object to being singled out in an audience by a performer – to do so at close quarters only aggravates the business.’
(The Stage, London, Thursday, 27 July 1922, p. 10b)

h1

Gus Elen, ‘E Dunno Where ‘E Are

July 14, 2013

Gus Elen (1862-1940), coster comedian and British music hall star
(colour lithograph song sheet cover, published by Howard & Co, London, 1893)

”’E don’t know where E are,”
‘enormous success.
”’E don’t know where E are,”
”’E don’t know where he are,”
‘by Harry Wright and Fred Eplett.
‘A second ”Never introduce your Donah to a Pal.”
‘Read what the Umpire, Sunday, April 9th [1893], says:-
‘I won’t go so far as to say that the fortune of Mr Gus Elen was made by that popular ditty, ”Never introduce your Donah to a Pal,” but it certainly brought him suddenly to the front, and I can readily understand his desire to obtain another song which should rival in popularity that most entertaining coster wail, set, as it is, to one of the very best and freshest melodies of its day. That much desired song Mr Elen seems to have obtained in a lay in which he describes with disgust how a coster friend came into a little money, and at once put on airs, wore a collar and tie, took in daily his ”Sportsman” and his ”Telegrapht,” where formerly he had been contented with the ”Star,” which plainly showed ”E dunno where E are.” The song hasn’t an objectionable line in it, and, like the earlier ditty, it is wedded to a charming melody. ‘MR. GUS ELEN, ‘the Famous London Comedian, ‘concludes To-night a most genuine success at the Palace, Manchester, Topping the Bill Second Week.
‘Monday, PADDINGTON, LIVERPOOL next,
‘Manchester Courier, April 4th 1893,
”’And Mr Gus Elen, a clever, humorous artiste of the English music hall type, is gain in the arena of former triumphs.”
‘Manchester Spy, April 8th, 1893.
”’Mr Gus Elen has a new song ”E don’t know where E are,” which catches on in grand style.”
‘P.S. – Have you read the ”Openshaw Romance” in the Spy of April 1st issue (two columns), get it, it’s funny?
”’Never Introduce your Donah to a Pal.”
‘Booked at Pavilion, Tivoli, Oxford [music halls], for Three Years.
‘Sole and Exclusive Agents, Hugh J. Didcott and Co.’
(The Era, London, Saturday, 15 April 1893, p. 27c, advertisement)

The Oxford music hall, London, October 1893
‘Mr Gus Elen seems very fortunate in his choice of songs, ”Never intoduce your donah to a pal” was whistled by every street boy; and now ”’E dunno where ‘e are” threatens to become one of the carols of Cockaigne. So great, indeed, is the popularity of the singer that in every postal district in London the peculiarities of Jack Jones, who, since he has ”tumbled into a bit of brass, ‘as the cheek and imperdence to call ‘is muver ‘is ma,” are heartily laughed at.’
(The Era, London, Saturday, 4 November 1893, p. 16a)

h1

G.H. Chirgwin in Australia, 1896

July 13, 2013

G.H. Chirgwin (1854-1922), English music hall entertainer, singer and musician, famously billed as ‘The White-Eyed Kaffir’
(photo: unknown, probably UK, late 1890s; Ogden’s ‘Guinea Gold’ cigarette card, circa 1900)

”’THE WHITE-EYED KAFFIR.”
‘A CHAT WITH “CHIRGWIN”
‘And this was the White-eyed Musical Kaffir!
We must confess that our first impression of the famous Chirgwin were distinctly disappointing, and that they by no means came up to his pictured presentment, as made familiar in the highly-coloured bills to which he refers easily as his “printing.” We had imagined to our selves a long-drawn-out ebony figure, relieved only by a diamond-shaped patch over his right eye and topped off by an Ally Sloper hat of the most pronounced type. Such a personality we felt would be a distinct adornment to the rich decoration of the Moorish lounge at Menzies’ [i.e. at the Menzies Hotel, Melbourne]. Instead, we are introduced to a ruddy-faced gentleman well on the right side of middle age, and loosely attired in a tourist suit that smacks of the rolling ocean. The Kaffir’s manner far from being bloodthirsty is distinctly amiable and presently, when seated in his cosy sitting-room under the guardianship of his guide philosopher and friend, Mr. Harry Rickards, he proves himself an admirable conversationalist.
”’I must have been on stage for many years? I believe you. It is nearly 33 years since I first took to the boards, and I shall be just 42 years of age in December. The fact is that my first public appearance was at 5 years of age when my brothers and I appeared as the Chirgwin Family, and formed a Juvenile Christy Minstrel troupe. I used to play the bones and the violin at first, and gradually increased my mastery of other instruments till now it pretty well covers the whole range of strings, as well as the bagpipes and the musette. When I grew older we separated, and I appeared for a time with a younger brother, but for the last eighteen years I have been on my own’.”
”’And how did you come to be known as ‘the White-eyed Kaffir?”
”’Oh, that was a pure accident. I had gone up to perform at an open-air fete at Gloucester. A storm got up in the middle of the performance, and a lot of dust was blown into my right eye. The pain was so great that I naturally set to work rubbing my eye and when I faced the audience again there was a shriek of laughter. I had rubbed a patch of the black off round my eye, and the effect was so peculiar that I stuck to it ever since. Though, of course, it was some time before I adopted the diamond shaped patch as a distinctive mark.”
”’And you always appear in the same make up”
”’Always, even when I do my Scottish act, but, of course, I change the clothes and properties. You see my entertainment is unique of its kind. I am the only artist in England who goes in for this line of business, and it is a style which allows of the black face always being worn. You see have no prepared patter, and I don’t adhere to any specified programme. My idea is to come on the stage and have a good time. When I get an audience that I like I go off at score, giving them a melange of songs, dances and instrumental music, and reeling off the dialogue just is it comes into my head. I have never appeared but with a black face, except in my pantomime engagements.”
”’To show how I vary my entertainment, no one in England has ever been able to mimic me. Many of the best mimics have tried to do so. Perhaps one of them will say, ‘Look here, Chirgwin, old man, I’m going to sing that song of yours exactly as you sing it.’ Well, that man will come to the halls where I’m singing night after night, and when he thinks he has got me off pat I’ll wing it in an entirely different way, so that when he comes on afterwards to mimic me it isn’t a bit like, and he gets properly slipped up.
”’I’ll give you another illustration. On the same night I have appeared at four different halls ranging from the Tivoli and the Oxford [in central London] to Harwood’s varieties at Hoxton, which perhaps caters to the roughest class of people in London. Then I have gone straight from there to sing at a command concert in the state-room of the Lyceum Theatre before the Prince of Wales, and with an audience including such critics as Sir Henry Irving and Mr Beerbohm Tree.”
”’You have never crossed the line before, I believe.”
”’No, I’ve been all over the Continent, Spain, France, Germany and Italy, but this is my first experience out of Europe. If it’s all as pleasant as it was on board the Ophir I feel that I am going to have a real good time.”
”’And is your stay likely to be long?”
”’My engagement with my old friend Mr. Rickards is for six months though that depends on how I suit him.”
‘Mr. Rickards from the depths of a mighty arm chair, breaks in to say ”You’ll suit me all right, old boy” and then subsides again while the “White-eyed Kaffir” takes up the thread of his discourse.
”’I’m due back in London again next August, and after filling my engagements there I go to America. The only thing I am sorry about is that I can’t open at the Opera-house [in Melbourne] on Saturday night. What with the long rest of six weeks and the sea air both my instruments and myself have got a little out of order. Working as hard as I can, things will hardly be right before Monday. An artist must be constantly playing and singing to keep up to concert pitch. Why, every fiddler in the orchestra feels the difference in his fingers on Monday after Sunday’s rest. I want to do myself justice, so I shall wait till Monday evening to make my first bow to an Australian audience.”
Mr Chirgwin is accompanied by Mrs Chirgwin, a daughter well up in her teens, and what he terms ”a young Kaffir” just rising six months.’
(The Argus, Melbourne, Australia, Saturday, 28 November 1896, p. 13d)

h1

July 13, 2013

G.H. Chirgwin (1854-1922), English music hall entertainer, singer and musician, famously billed as ‘The White-Eyed Kaffir’
(photo: unknown, probably UK, late 1890s; Ogden’s ‘Guinea Gold’ cigarette card, circa 1900)

“’THE WHITE-EYED KAFFIR.”
‘A CHAT WITH “CHIRGWIN”
‘And this was the White-eyed Musical Kaffir!
We must confess that our first impression of the famous Chirgwin were distinctly disappointing, and that they by no means came up to his pictured presentment, as made familiar in the highly-coloured bills to which he refers easily as his “printing.” We had imagined to our selves a long-drawn-out ebony figure, relieved only by a diamond-shaped patch over his right eye and topped off by an Ally Sloper hat of the most pronounced type. Such a personality we felt would be a distinct adornment to the rich decoration of the Moorish lounge at Menzies’ [i.e. at the Menzies Hotel, Melbourne]. Instead, we are introduced to a ruddy-faced gentleman well on the right side of middle age, and loosely attired in a tourist suit that smacks of the rolling ocean. The Kaffir’s manner far from being bloodthirsty is distinctly amiable and presently, when seated in his cosy sitting-room under the guardianship of his guide philosopher and friend, Mr. Harry Rickards, he proves himself an admirable conversationalist.
“’I must have been on stage for many years? I believe you. It is nearly 33 years since I first took to the boards, and I shall be just 42 years of age in December. The fact is that my first public appearance was at 5 years of age when my brothers and I appeared as the Chirgwin Family, and formed a Juvenile Christy Minstrel troupe. I used to play the bones and the violin at first, and gradually increased my mastery of other instruments till now it pretty well covers the whole range of strings, as well as the bagpipes and the musette. When I grew older we separated, and I appeared for a time with a younger brother, but for the last eighteen years I have been on my own’.”
“’And how did you come to be known as ‘the White-eyed Kaffir?”
“’Oh, that was a pure accident. I had gone up to perform at an open-air fete at Gloucester. A storm got up in the middle of the performance, and a lot of dust was blown into my right eye. The pain was so great that I naturally set to work rubbing my eye and when I faced the audience again there was a shriek of laughter. I had rubbed a patch of the black off round my eye, and the effect was so peculiar that I stuck to it ever since. Though, of course, it was some time before I adopted the diamond shaped patch as a distinctive mark.”
“’And you always appear in the same make up”
“’Always, even when I do my Scottish act, but, of course, I change the clothes and properties. You see my entertainment is unique of its kind. I am the only artist in England who goes in for this line of business, and it is a style which allows of the black face always being worn. You see have no prepared patter, and I don’t adhere to any specified programme. My idea is to come on the stage and have a good time. When I get an audience that I like I go off at score, giving them a melange of songs, dances and instrumental music, and reeling off the dialogue just is it comes into my head. I have never appeared but with a black face, except in my pantomime engagements.”
“’To show how I vary my entertainment, no one in England has ever been able to mimic me. Many of the best mimics have tried to do so. Perhaps one of them will say, ‘Look here, Chirgwin, old man, I’m going to sing that song of yours exactly as you sing it.’ Well, that man will come to the halls where I’m singing night after night, and when he thinks he has got me off pat I’ll wing it in an entirely different way, so that when he comes on afterwards to mimic me it isn’t a bit like, and he gets properly slipped up.
”’I’ll give you another illustration. On the same night I have appeared at four different halls ranging from the Tivoli and the Oxford [in central London] to Harwood’s varieties at Hoxton, which perhaps caters to the roughest class of people in London. Then I have gone straight from there to sing at a command concert in the state-room of the Lyceum Theatre before the Prince of Wales, and with an audience including such critics as Sir Henry Irving and Mr Beerbohm Tree.“
”’You have never crossed the line before, I believe.“
”’No, I’ve been all over the Continent, Spain, France, Germany and Italy, but this is my first experience out of Europe. If it’s all as pleasant as it was on board the Ophir I feel that I am going to have a real good time.“
”’And is your stay likely to be long?“
”’My engagement with my old friend Mr. Rickards is for six months though that depends on how I suit him.“
‘Mr. Rickards from the depths of a mighty arm chair, breaks in to say ’’You’ll suit me all right, old boy” and then subsides again while the “White-eyed Kaffir” takes up the thread of his discourse.
“’I’m due back in London again next August, and after filling my engagements there I go to America. The only thing I am sorry about is that I can’t open at the Opera-house [in Melbourne] on Saturday night. What with the long rest of six weeks and the sea air both my instruments and myself have got a little out of order. Working as hard as I can, things will hardly be right before Monday. An artist must be constantly playing and singing to keep up to concert pitch. Why, every fiddler in the orchestra feels the difference in his fingers on Monday after Sunday’s rest. I want to do myself justice, so I shall wait till Monday evening to make my first bow to an Australian audience.”
Mr Chirgwin is accompanied by Mrs Chirgwin, a daughter well up in her teens, and what he terms “a young Kaffir” just rising six months.’
(The Argus, Melbourne, Australia, Saturday, 28 November 1896, p. 13d)

h1

Blanche Deyo

June 8, 2013

Blanche Deyo (née Pixley, 1880?-1933), American dancer and actress
(photos: unknown, USA, circa 1895)

”’The Girl from Paris” proved a popular attraction to the out-of-town visitors last week. Miss Mabel Clark has been engaged to give a dance, in place of Mlle. Deyo, who sailed for England last week.’
(New York Daily Tribune, Sunday, 2 May 1897, p. 10e. Blanche Deyo was not in the original cast of The Girl from Paris, which began its run at the Herald Square Theatre, New York, in December 1896)

The Tivoli music hall, London, week beginning Monday, 17 May 1897
‘Mademoiselle Deyo, who made her début before an English audience at the TIVOLI this week is a little danseuse who had a considerable success in America. She is light and graceful, evidently an enthusiast in her profession, and may go far, for the public is becoming rather tired of the many travesties on dancing, which a wealthy of sit only half conceals.’
(The Graphic, London, Saturday, 22 May 1897, p. 634b)

The Palace music hall, London, week beginning Monday, 11 October 1897
‘… pretty, smiling Miss Deyo wins all hears by her dainty dancing and her bright and buoyant expression.’
(The Era, London, Saturday, 16 October 1897, p. 20a)

‘Mlle. Deyo, more familiarly known here as ”the Beautiful Deyo,” who was favorably received in The Girl from Paris, Excelsior, Jr., and 1492, and who left our shores for new worlds to conquer, has again been heard from. At the close of her London engagement of several months at the Palace she went to South Africa, where she opened at the Palace Theatre, Johannesburg, on Jan. 24, making a decided hit. Mlle. Deyo will return to London in April and opens in Paris May 1, after which she will begin a Continental Tour, playing the principal cities of Europe as far as Moscow, Russia. She will not be seen in New York again until 1900.’
(The New York Dramatic Mirror, New York, 19 March 1898, p. 20b)

Empire Theatre, Leicester Square, London, Christmas 1899
‘The programme of Christmas holiday attractions at the Empire Theatre is long and varied. Belloni’s flock of white cockatoos perform some surprising tricks upon swing and miniature bicycles; this is followed by some clever character dancing by Miss Deyo and a gymnastic display by the ”Three Gladenbecks.” …’
(The Times, London, Wednesday, 27 December 1899, p. 8d)

h1

June 8, 2013

Blanche Deyo (née Pixley, 1880?-1933), American dancer and actress
(photos: unknown, USA, circa 1895)

”’The Girl from Paris” proved a popular attraction to the out-of-town visitors last week. Miss Mabel Clark has been engaged to give a dance, in place of Mlle. Deyo, who sailed for England last week.’
(New York Daily Tribune, Sunday, 2 May 1897, p. 10e. Blanche Deyo was not in the original cast of The Girl from Paris, which began its run at the Herald Square Theatre, New York, in December 1896)

The Tivoli music hall, London, week beginning Monday, 17 May 1897
‘Mademoiselle Deyo, who made her début before an English audience at the TIVOLI this week is a little danseuse who had a considerable success in America. She is light and graceful, evidently an enthusiast in her profession, and may go far, for the public is becoming rather tired of the many travesties on dancing, which a wealthy of sit only half conceals.’
(The Graphic, London, Saturday, 22 May 1897, p. 634b)

The Palace music hall, London, week beginning Monday, 11 October 1897
‘… pretty, smiling Miss Deyo wins all hears by her dainty dancing and her bright and buoyant expression.’
(The Era, London, Saturday, 16 October 1897, p. 20a)

‘Mlle. Deyo, more familiarly known here as ”the Beautiful Deyo,” who was favorably received in The Girl from Paris, Excelsior, Jr., and 1492, and who left our shores for new worlds to conquer, has again been heard from. At the close of her London engagement of several months at the Palace she went to South Africa, where she opened at the Palace Theatre, Johannesburg, on Jan. 24, making a decided hit. Mlle. Deyo will return to London in April and opens in Paris May 1, after which she will begin a Continental Tour, playing the principal cities of Europe as far as Moscow, Russia. She will not be seen in New York again until 1900.’
(The New York Dramatic Mirror, New York, 19 March 1898, p. 20b)

Empire Theatre, Leicester Square, London, Christmas 1899
‘The programme of Christmas holiday attractions at the Empire Theatre is long and varied. Belloni’s flock of white cockatoos perform some surprising tricks upon swing and miniature bicycles; this is followed by some clever character dancing by Miss Deyo and a gymnastic display by the ”Three Gladenbecks.” …’
(The Times, London, Wednesday, 27 December 1899, p. 8d)

h1

June 8, 2013

Blanche Deyo (née Pixley, 1880?-1933), American dancer and actress
(photos: unknown, USA, circa 1895)

“‘The Girl from Paris” proved a popular attraction to the out-of-town visitors last week. Miss Mabel Clark has been engaged to give a dance, in place of Mlle. Deyo, who sailed for England last week.’
(New York Daily Tribune, Sunday, 2 May 1897, p. 10e. Blanche Deyo was not in the original cast of The Girl from Paris, which began its run at the Herald Square Theatre, New York, in December 1896)

The Tivoli music hall, London, week beginning Monday, 17 May 1897
‘Mademoiselle Deyo, who made her début before an English audience at the TIVOLI this week is a little danseuse who had a considerable success in America. She is light and graceful, evidently an enthusiast in her profession, and may go far, for the public is becoming rather tired of the many travesties on dancing, which a wealthy of sit only half conceals.’
(The Graphic, London, Saturday, 22 May 1897, p. 634b)

The Palace music hall, London, week beginning Monday, 11 October 1897
’… pretty, smiling Miss Deyo wins all hears by her dainty dancing and her bright and buoyant expression.’
(The Era, London, Saturday, 16 October 1897, p. 20a)

‘Mlle. Deyo, more familiarly known here as “the Beautiful Deyo,” who was favorably received in The Girl from Paris, Excelsior, Jr., and 1492, and who left our shores for new worlds to conquer, has again been heard from. At the close of her London engagement of several months at the Palace she went to South Africa, where she opened at the Palace Theatre, Johannesburg, on Jan. 24, making a decided hit. Mlle. Deyo will return to London in April and opens in Paris May 1, after which she will begin a Continental Tour, playing the principal cities of Europe as far as Moscow, Russia. She will not be seen in New York again until 1900.’
(The New York Dramatic Mirror, New York, 19 March 1898, p. 20b)

Empire Theatre, Leicester Square, London, Christmas 1899
‘The programme of Christmas holiday attractions at the Empire Theatre is long and varied. Belloni’s flock of white cockatoos perform some surprising tricks upon swing and miniature bicycles; this is followed by some clever character dancing by Miss Deyo and a gymnastic display by the “Three Gladenbecks.” …’
(The Times, London, Wednesday, 27 December 1899, p. 8d)