The Concert

"Capping carnivals" have necessarily shared the fate of many another time-honoured British institution and become impossible "for the duration of the war." But the V. U. C. S. A. have bravely risen to the occasion and supplied instead most pleasant entertainments, which they denote by the simple, but hardly adequate, name of "concerts."

On June 21st the musical half of the programme, though short, was delightful, Mr. Wilson's charming singing and Mr. Watson's violin playing being properly appreciated by everyone, and the two short plays, which formed the major part of the entertainment were merry little farces, well suited to the powers of the talent available.

The first, "the Quod Wrangle," is concerned with the sad failure of Bill Jenkes' effort to escape from the hated page 38 necessity of hard work, by obliging His Majesty's Government to provide him with free board and lodgings as the consequence of a raid upon the nearest butcher's shop. Mr. Copper gave a most convincing rendering of the worthy Mr. Jenks, though Mr. Nicholls, in making him up, brought into prominence so many traits of primitive, unregenerate man, that wise College committees may well hesitate before making him their treasurer. Mr. Schmidt is also to be congratulated upon his intimate acquaintance with the working of the Police Force, though it might be invidious to inquire how he obtained it, and those of us, who have seen Miss Davies act before, expected to enjoy any play in which she took part. We were not disappointed. If all suffragettes had displayed equal powers of persuasion when dealing with M. P. s, not even a British House of Commous could have been so unmannerly as to require them to own to thirty summers before being able to vote! Mr. Joplin was convincingly "artful" as "Snippy," while the other parts were adequately filled, and the little play went brightly and gaily from start to finish.

It was followed by "Rosencrantz and Guildernstern," Mr. Gilbert's witty parody of "Hamlet."

It is difficult to speak too warmly of the work given to this play by the stage manager and costume designer. The gorgeous setting of Shakespeare's plays to which Mr. Irving accustomed playgoers, made it essential that even a parody, to be successful, should be well staged. But that this should have been done on a tiny stage, and with the few accessories at the command of a college dramatic club, reflects immense credit upon those responsible for it. Miss Richmond's colour scheme was most effective, and when it is remembered that true war time economy had been practiced, and everything produced "out of nothing," one can only offer respectful admiration.

The drill, which must have been necessary to produce so effective a procession as that in the third tableau, must have required much patient persistence on the part of the stage manageress. She is to be specially congratulated upon Polonius' most expressive back.

Miss Hulme's "Ophelia," was marred by a tendency to over-elocution and excessive gesture, but was played spiritedly. If the real Ophelia had but possessed her at page 39 tractive self-assurance and ready wit, she need never have ended her existence in a "muddy" ditch.

Miss Crawford's performance was naturalness itself. Looking every inch a queen, she did her best with the thankless and uncongenial task of relieving a court made dismal by a gloomy king, and an heir apparent addicted to soliloquy. King Claudius was somewhat colorless, and his lines needed more vigour than Mr. McEldowney put into them, though towards the end of the play, he greatly improved in that respect.

Mr. Evans had evidently studied his part with praiseworthy care, and knew his Shakespeare. He entered fully into the spirit of the play and ranted with fine abandon. The other parts were fairly well filled, Mr. Sheat especially showing promise. The play, however, depends too much upon clever "business" to be really effectively rendered by inexperienced players. Its choice may have been partly determined by its former happy connection with Victoria College, when the giants of old interpreted it according to their lights, and without the hilarious excitement of a suddenly collapsing background.

"Triad."