Museum of the Yiddish Theatre

To the broad audience there is the impression that actors are great spenders, and that a dollar is a bastard to them.

It seems that money does not matter to them, that they throw money at themselves and that the hand is always open.

The truth , however, is just the opposite.

Nowhere can you find as many poor people as in the theatre world, and one can say that stinginess is a special disease that is widespread among actors.

It goes without saying that there are many exceptions; both among Jews and non-Jewish actors, one can find many who are very far from stingy: on the contrary, they spend a lot of money on themselves and on "good brothers"; They love to frolic and to live for the day, and when they frolic, a dollar is really a bastard to them, and they throw money at it left and right.

Such, however, are exceptions. And whomever is well acquainted with the lives of actors, sees how there are greats among the number of misers.

There may be a reason why:

People are never sure if they will be engaged next season.

And another reason:

People are accustomed to the fact that the hearers of their talent should spend money on them and treat them with a generous hand, in this way expressing recognition, a habit that has become second nature. Well, the avarice of actors is really striking, and people are telling each other about this very interesting story.

About one actor they tell such a story:

When he once became capricious and unfaithful to his wife, she used the following means to seduce him:

-- If you will not stop me, Jew, she said, I will take a penny and throw it out the window...

It works, and the actor must quench his anger. He does not want to -- he must stop judging the wife, because if she had thrown a penny outside, his gallbladder would have burst in him in resentment ... he would not have endured it ...

A trifle or a penny! ...

About another actor they say that when two waiters in the Cafe Royal get together, the most serious curse they can give each other is that he and the actor should always sit at his table.

-- Then the gallbladder will burst in him, -- says one waiter to the other, -- because that gentleman never gives any "tip" ... And here is an example of avarice:

An actor comes into a cafe. Everyone knows him as a miser. He sits down at a table, and to make it clear that he did not come in to eat, he does not take off his hat ... This means he is very busy, he is in a hurry and has no time to eat ...

For a long time he sits by himself like this, until he allows himself and ...

and orders a glass of coffee ...

Drinking the coffee, he does not forget for a single minute that it costs a nickel. A whole nickel. Is he sure this is too expensive? And then he comes to an understanding:

-- But sir, -- he calls to the waiter and shows him the glass of coffee that he has already drunk more than half, -- give me still a little coffee ... but hot. I can't drink any cold coffee.

He got, that is, a bargain. But he cannot be reassured why he spent an entire nickel ... he only calms down when he goes home by foot and splits a nickel ...

And this man, it is said, possesses several tens of thousands of dollars ...

There are many interesting stories that can be told about misers among Yiddish actors. However, one needs to say that in this, it is not an exception with non-Yiddish actors.

We take for an example, Artyom, one of the greatest character actors who has been connected with the Moscow Art Theatre until the last days of his life.

His stinginess was famous in the entire Russian theatre world, and they told many interesting stories about him.

Here I will deliver one of them, which Vasily Kachalov, the great Russian actor, has told, when he was with the Moscow Art Theatre.

When Artyom, -- told Kachalov, -- for the first time came to Berlin to play, there the entire time he never once got a haircut, because he calculated that in Berlin it would cost more than in Moscow ...

--Why don't you get a haircut?, they asked him. -- You will already soon look like a priest.

Every time they put the same question to him, because he was accused by Jews of being so stingy. He fell on an understanding and answered thus:

-- I hate Berlin. This is a fast-paced city, and I don't want a hair to fall from my glorious head ...

Once a part of the Moscow Art Theatre chose to tour the province to play several guest productions in various cities. Stanislavski prepared the repertoire for the province, and it came out of him that Artyom should remain in Moscow and play with the part of the troupe that doesn't travel around.

When Artyom heard this, he became ill from aggravation. It did not surprise him why he was not taken to the province, but it bothered him terribly why he lost the opportunity to receive a salary here, because in the Moscow Art Theatre it was introduced that when one goes out on guest performances across the province, each actor gets twice as much as he usually gets.

He could not pass up that opportunity. A trifle somehow felt so twice! He would have been able to save a fortune from this!

He was so upset, so boiling, that he became really ill and stopped coming to the theatre altogether.

Stanislavski knew Artyom well, and he understood why he was ill; and as he loved him dearly and highly valued his talent, he decided that he should be paid double, Artyom, even though he remained in Moscow and did not play in the province ... What should one do with such people?!

Kachalov was then sent to Artyom to tell him the good news, that he no longer had to worry about being spared, because he was already sick, because he would be paid twice as much ...

When Artyom had heard this, he immediately got out of bed; as if by magic, suddenly a new skin appeared on him, and he became well ...

-- This is good! This is fine!

-- He was tormented.

To his great joy, he treated Kachalov to a glass of tea. He also drank himself, and in doing so he always talked about the goodness that his friends from the Moscow Art Theatre have shown to him. And all of a sudden, he was left sitting in a predicament and thinking hard.

-- What's up again, Artyom?

-- Asked Kachalov.

-- What did you promise yourself?

--  Do you understand me, Vasia?

-- Artyom started and did not know how to end.

-- Do you understand me, it is ...

-- Well, how can I tell you this ... it is ...

-- What is? Speak clearly!

-- It's a pity ... it's a loss.

--What  a pity? What a loss? You'll get twice as much as you have during the time you're here and we'll be traveling.

-- Yes, this is the truth, but ...

-- "But" what?

Artyom hesitated for a long time and could not say what he wanted, and when Kachalov was standing by the meadow ready to leave, Artyom approached him and agreed in spirit, and he said:

Sir, Vasia, to whom do we celebrate? What about the money that people -- would have to give me expenses for back and forth? ...

And they had to give him the money for the cost of a train ticket, although he would not be traveling by train and will remain completely in Moscow.

To such a level has reached the avarice of one of the greatest Russian actors in the Moscow Art Theatre.