|
| May DeSousa (1887-1948) |
|
In Press and Literature |
Daily Gazette and Bulletin, 19th May, 1909
"BATHHOUSE JOHN'S" PROTEGE IS HOME
Chicago, May 18. "English dukes haven't any charms for me, 'pon my word, don't y Know," said Miss May De Sousa just home from a theatrical tour of Europe, as she threw her arms about the neck of Detective John De Sousa, her father, and showered him with kisses.
"They really are funny, those stiff, Englishmen. When they make love they are screams. When an Englishman Intends to propose to the woman of his choice, he puts on a solemn face, a long coat and top hat. Then he calls on his lady love, they take seats in opposite corners and after the hall clock has ticked off four minutes he begins;
He Begs 'Er Pardon
"'Miss Brown, I am a perfect rotter, don't you know, but really I cannot help it, and really, I love you, don't you know. I know I am a fool and I beg your pardon, your sincere pardon, Miss Brown.' She replies 'Not in the least offended, Mr Sommers, and I accept you. If you will please excuse me now, I will dress for dinner.'
"They can have their Buckingham Palaces, don't y' know ,but this little Chestnut street home 'pon my word, is dearer to me than all." continued Miss De Sousa. The father looked out of the window and then, springing to his feet, said:
"De guy what sprung that story about me darter going to hook up with a dook, or whatever you call those geezers abroad better not show his mug around here because I'll change his profile."
"Pon My Word," Says May
Miss De Sousa, who has learned to talk with a broad English accent during her four years sojourn on the continent and in England looked embarassed, and in a timid voice said "'Pon my word father, your language is something horrid don't y know."
"Nix on dat kind of talk in dis country. Speak United States" he said, and May rushed to the side of her mother.
"Say fellers kibosh on dat English lingo, I don't like it" volunteered the detective as he linked arms with May and started for the garden to pose for pictures."
"'Pon my word I shan't go back into vaudeVille. Why should I? I never appeared in the English music halls and why should I start in dear old America?" continued the joung woman, who won her first fame by singing 'Dear Midnight of Love' written by Alderman 'Bathhouse' John Coughlin.
Fort Wayne Daily News, 4th May 1910
WHICH OF THREE DOES MAY LACK?
MISS DE SOUSA SAYS HAIR, FIGURE AND JEWELS MAKE MUSICAL COMEDY SUCCESS.
NEW YORK, May 4. Declaring that blonde hair, a good figure and an array of jewels have supplanted cleverness and real talent as the necessary requisites as a star in musical comedy, May de Sousa, the Chicago girl, who is well known both in America and Europe as a prima donna, today announced her desertion from the musical comedy in favor of the legitimate.
"The day has passed," said Miss de Sousa today, "when a woman can expect to win real recognition as an actress in the field of musical comedy. The graduated show girl with her blonde beauty, shapely figure, diamonds and friends with pull has become such a permanent fixture as to hopelessly handicap real merit. I have had some success in the field, but realize that the only permanent recognition for an actress must be won in the legitimate."
Miss de Sousa is to make her second start on a journey to success in a small part in a new comedy by James Forbes, "The Commuters."
Indianapolis Star 23rd October, 1910
Actress Reveres Coquelin's Memory
In her pretty chintz-hung dressing room in the Criterion Theater, New York, Miss May de Sousa chatted the other day about her role in "The Commuters," immediately after an extra rehearsal.
It is a room that has been occupied by Julia Marlowe, Ethel Barrymore and other prominent actresses, and their influence was very evident in the speech of the pretty little woman Who had just graduated from musical comedy into legitimate drama.
"When I stop to think of the many things I have yet to learn, I'm really appalled," she began, "and only the kindness of Mr, Harris, my manager, and Mr. Forbes, the author of the play, and their constant encouragement, help me to go on. In this, as in any artistic work, the way is long and the time so very fleeting. Then when I realize that, at 24, I am playing a leading role in a leading Theater, I feel a little calmer and return to my work and study with new resolution.
"My ambition was always to be a serious actress, but circumstances, a good voice and youth conspired to place me in light opera. At the end of my first season, while I was only in my teens, I was singing in light opera. That year, too, I was the understudy for Alice Nielsen, in San Francisco. She went to London, and the opportunity came for me to follow her there. But dread of the ocean voyage induced me to stay in my own country.
"Then came successes in 'The Wizard of Oz' and 'Babes in Toyland,' it was the latter piece which brought me East, Where I was very kindly received. I went to London after all, and got my first hearing as Cinderella in the Drury Lane pantomime. 'Castles In Spain,' 'The Geisha' and other London successes followed. I was to have appeared as Sorila in 'Merry Widow' in Paris, but the plans were changed for several reasons.
"You know M. de Max, the famous French actor? He became very enthusiastic about my work and was eager to introduce me to the Parisians as Juliet to his Romeo — one of his most superb roles. My French was too meager, but de Max offered to pay my expenses for six months of preparation in Paris.
"It was most alluring! Here was an opportunity to appear under the very best auspices before one of the most critical audiences in the world, in a wonderful role, and with a congenial star. But I refused to think of it. The six months preparation was a luxury I could not afford, so I kept on with my musical comedy work in London.
"But an opportunity to appear in Paris came later, when I went there in May Dearly's support at the Varieties. They were very kind to me in the French capital, and besides winning their critical approval I won many friends there.
"One of the most delightful experiences of that time was my friendship with Coquelin. He was good enough to take so active an interest in me that I was privileged to visit him once a week. It was arranged by him that I was to watch his performances every Thursday, and then have a little talk with him behind the scenes.
"Those weekly visits resolved themselves into lessons of incomputable value. Of course, in coming into the great actor's presence I was very much overawed, but he was so kind and paternal that I was soon at my ease. He was a very shrewd observer, and on later visits, if he noticed any little affectation or assumed air, he would correct it very tactfully, but very firmly. He always insisted on natural expression, and was himself one of the simplest and most spontaneous men I ever met.
"Back of all his simplicity there was great power, and apparently no end of knowledge. He had the technique of the stage at his finger tips, and purity of speech at the tip of his tongue. How patiently he would help me to gain a subtle French inflection, or an illusive French idiom.
"Now that I've been back in my own country for some months I've begun to get a proper perspective."
| Reproduce this article: This article is Copyright. You may, however, freely reproduce this article provided that a) it is not done for profit (including incorporporation in any compilation of materials produced for profit, or on any paid access website); b) that the text is reproduced in full and unaltered; c) that you clearly credit the source, ie. "Reproduced courtesy of Don Gillan (Copyright), www.stagebeauty.net" |