When the Invisible Man Came to Swansea the Year 2012 Seems

When the Invisible Man Came to Swansea The year 2012 seems especially rich with the anniversaries of famous events that took place many years ago. There has, for example, been much publicity about the 100th anniversary of Captain Scott’s tragic dash for the South Pole; about the sinking of the Titanic; and about the bi-centenary of the birth of Charles Dickens. There is, however, another 100th anniversary that, it seems, will pass by largely unnoticed. For 2012 also marks the 100th anniversary of the death of an author who, while not as prolific or as successful as Charles Dickens, nevertheless gave us a character as equally famous as Oliver Twist, David Copperfield or Ebenezer Scrooge. This author, who died in 1912, and his casual links to Swansea only recently came to my attention. Swansea’s Grand Theatre has an enviable display of historic posters which advertise some of its long-forgotten shows by usually long-forgotten artistes. They adorn the walls of the Circle as well as the Stalls and provide an intriguing glimpse of the Grand’s long and varied history. At Grand Theatre events over many years, having finished my interval tub of Joe’s ice cream, I have browsed some of these posters, occasionally spotting the name of a famous, but long dead, artiste which still echoes to us down the ages. During a January 2012 visit my attention was drawn to a name I had not expected to see on a Grand Theatre poster. The title of this article may lead the reader to assume that I am referring to H.G. Wells and his story of The Invisible Man but this would be a mistake. Wells, after all, died in 1946 rather than 1912. The poster that caught my eye, dating from February 1903, included the name of Bram Stoker, author of the hugely successful 1897 Gothic horror novel, Dracula. Since being first filmed in 1922 as Nosferatu there have been over two-hundred film versions of the original novel. The Count Dracula character is better known to modern audiences from the film portrayals of Bela Lugosi and, especially, Sir Christopher Lee. [IMAGE1] [IMAGE1A] The modern-day reader may wonder what brought Bram Stoker to the Swansea Grand in 1903. Was he, perhaps appearing as an actor in a stage version of his novel? Or giving a public reading of his most famous work in the manner of Charles Dickens? Or was it for a question and answer session before a rapt audience, with the author explaining his work and motivations? The answer, in fact, is none of these. Stoker was there in a largely administrative role to the principal player in the theatrical dramas that were to be staged at the Grand Theatre, over three successive days and evenings, in February 1903. Bram Stoker was actually there as part of Sir Henry Irving’s travelling troupe of players and played a purely off-stage, but very important, role. Indeed, as Irving’s long-serving Business Manager he was one of the great actor-manager’s most trusted and valued confidantes. So, when visiting Swansea Stoker was merely the author who had created what would become the most famous vampire in fiction. He was not meant to be the centre of attention of the Swansea public but was there simply to support Sir Henry Irving and his company. Stoker’s visit to Swansea actually provided another link to the story of Dracula. For it is thought by many (but not conclusively proven) that Stoker had based the speech, figure and mannerisms of Count Dracula on Sir Henry Irving himself. So, if it was not possible for the Count himself to appear on stage, at least the Swansea audience could gain an inkling of how Stoker had envisioned his most famous creation by observing Irving at work on the stage. So what did an eager Swansea audience make of Stoker and, more particularly, Irving, when they visited Swansea? An examination of the backgrounds of the two men and the press coverage of the time will assist us in determining this. [IMAGE2] Stoker was born in Ireland in 1847 and had been given the birth-name of Abraham, but was thereafter always called Bram. He graduated from Trinity College, Dublin in 1870 and became theatre critic for the Dublin Evening Mail as well as a day-time civil servant. It was following an 1876 Stoker review of Irving as Hamlet at Dublin’s Theatre Royal that the two men first met and became friends. In 1878 Stoker married Florence Balcombe and shortly afterwards the couple moved to London. Stoker soon became Acting Manager and then Business Manager to Henry Irving who was at that time running his acting company at the Lyceum Theatre in Westminster. While trying to ensure that more money came through the Lyceum doors in takings than went out of the Lyceum doors in the costs of Irving’s increasingly expensive sets, costumes and special effects, Stoker also managed to continue the writing habit he had first started in Dublin. 1 Three now largely long-forgotten novels 2 appeared between 1890 and 1895, as well as a collection of children’s fairy tales, before the publication in 1897 of what would become his most famous work, Dracula. A stage version of the novel was actually staged at the Lyceum prior to its publication but if Stoker had hoped to tempt Irving to play the part he was to be disappointed; the imperious Irving did not appear in the role. [IMAGE3] Henry Irving had been born as John Henry Brodribb in Somerset in 1838, later adopting his second name of Henry as his first name and changing his surname to Irving as a nod to the author of a favourite book of his childhood. Given Irving’s later stature in the acting world it would not be unfitting to refer to Sir Laurence Olivier as the Irving of his day, rather than the other way around. Irving’s success, however, was not quite as meteoric as Olivier’s. To continue the metaphor, Irving flared and flickered (sometimes unsuccessfully) in a host of non-leading and often inadequate roles, before bursting into a fiery comet which dazzled all who saw it. It was a long, hard and frequently poverty-stricken acting apprenticeship. Irving was a man of a singular physical appearance. He was “a tall, slender figure – about 6’2” – with hair worn longer than was customary, a clean-shaven chin – again unusual for the times – a long, strikingly sensitive face and a dominant, rather sardonic, presence which both fascinated and intimidated”. From the early days of his career he always strove to have the acting profession as readily accepted as were the other arts, such as music or literature. After the drudgery of playing minor roles in Scotland and the North-East Irving came to London in 1866 and started to finally gain some long sought for recognition. In 1871 he joined the Lyceum Theatre and gained an immediate and unexpected success playing the Burgomaster Mathias in The Bells. The play ran for 150 nights on a sold out basis, an unusually long run for the time. More success was soon to follow with Lyceum productions of Charles I (180 nights) and Hamlet (200 nights). In 1878, after the death of the Lyceum proprietor, and a falling out with the man’s widow, control of the Lyceum passed to Irving. He became known as simply ‘the governor’. 3 Despite his growing reputation Irving was not without his critics, such as George Bernard Shaw, who bemoaned the fact that from his viewpoint Irving stifled new works (such as Shaw’s own!) by choosing to play mainly well known classics that were admittedly popular with the public (and thus the box office) but hardly innovative. His acting style was also an issue for some though Irving “studied his plays with scholarly precision and enthusiasm, often researching and rehearsing privately for up to three months before performing all the parts for his cast. As an actor he spent much time perfecting nuances in his movement, expression, and articulation; as a director he ‘drilled and drilled’ his supporting cast with his interpretations of their roles, sometimes rehearsing up to ten weeks”. 4 Clearly, Irving left little to chance in his productions. It was in 1878 that Irving, by now the consummate actor-manager, engaged the talents of the thirty-year old Ellen Terry, an actress who remained with Irving’s company for almost a quarter of a century during which she became the most famous leading lady in Britain, a worthy counterpoint to Irving’s own lofty success. Their 1879 staging of The Merchant of Venice (with Terry playing Portia) ran for a then phenomenal 250 nights. By the time that Irving visited Swansea, however, Terry had moved on to run the Imperial Theatre, London, extending her range to include more modern works by George Bernard Shaw and Ibsen. 5 During their partnership Irving had become the first actor to gain a knighthood. Though it was hard work and the financial rewards were often uncertain, Irving regularly took the entire company on tour, to both the British provinces as well as the United States of America. Not for Irving was the transportation to some far-flung location of only the key Lyceum company players whose numbers could then be augmented by hastily-rehearsed local actors for the lesser roles. The entire Lyceum company including its sets, costumes and technical and other support staff made the trips. The scale of the endeavours can be gauged by the fact that in addition to visits to British towns and cities Irving (and Stoker) visited America no less than eight times from 1883 onwards.

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