She was born Anna Held in Paris.
She used to sing chansonnet songs and speak English with a
French dialect. It did not occur to anyone that the American-French Anna Held played Shulamis in London's Pavilion Theatre
under Adler's management.
Anna Held came to London with her
old mother, a pious Jewess, one can say -- a Jewess steeped in
Tseno-Ureno (the Women's Bible). Her daughter, Anna Held,
was of small growth, vivacious, with two large fiery eyes. In
the streets of Paris she used to sell flowers and sing French
street songs. She indeed was known as the singing flower-seller.
In London she sang and danced in a
Yiddish theatre. Later the role of Shulamis was entrusted to
her. As Adler used to tell it, she was a French Shulamis. But
the Yiddish theatre gave her the opportunity to find stage
success.
The entire company in London
called her "Khanke glomp." But later she showed that Khanke
Glomp was already no glomp at all. When she traveled back to
Paris, she already had stage technique and stage courage, and
she became a successful French vaudeville actress. She acted and
sang in the greatest nightclubs in France.
When Ziegfeld saw her in Paris in
one of the most famous nightclubs, he arranged for her to be
brought to America for his production of "Ziegfeld
Follies." ... She could already see that he had fallen in love with her, and
she became not only the star of Ziegfeld Follies, but also the
wife of Florenz Ziegfeld. Ziegfeld was already worried that the
press would write a lot about it. All kinds of advertisements
were used, but the most successful was that she took baths in
milk.
On a Saturday night I went, as
usual, to the Grand Theatre, and I wanted to enter Adler's
dressing room. I saw that the street was black with people. They
even called out the police, for fear of having this great crowd.
I pushed myself as it were and went in as far as Adler's
dressing room. When he saw me, he called out with a childlike
joy: "Comrade Rumshinsky, she is here, she is coming to see me."
And he said further: "She still did not forget the one who
brought her up onto the stage. Now she's rich, now she's big,
and all of America clings to her. Well, you understand who I
mean: Anna Held, the wife of the great American director Florenz
Ziegfeld."
It was already near the end of the
production. Ziegfeld stood up with Anna Held on his arm, whose
face was scarcely seen above her large hat with feathers. She
shook Adler's hand strongly but with much dignity and respect,
not allowing any further questions, and she soon disappeared.
Adler said: "Go figure, that from
Khanke Glomp this may be the legendary figure Anna Held."
SIGMUND (OR ZELIGEL) MOGULESCO
Seeing Mogulesco play in the theatre,
one used to ask the question: "With whom did he study? Where did
he start? He did not copy or imitate anyone, because he saw
little and learned even less in his life, except a little in
kheder and as a choir boy with Cantor Israel Cooper.
Nevertheless, he was compared to the greatest French
character-comic Koklen. He was the most natural comic, though
his first roles were in Goldfaden's operettas, and later in
further shund plays. During the early days of Jacob Gordin's
plays, he was the greatest opponent of Jacob Gordin. He used to
ask: "What does the black Jew with the black beard want?" But
later he became a great patriot [fan] of Jacob Gordin,
and also the successful character-comic in Jacob Gordin's plays.
He didn't need any jokes that
would make the theatre audience crack up with laughter. One tap
with the foot was enough, that the audience would fall into
laughter. He did not need hops and dances, to work hard, that
the public may rise from their benches; only that the orchestra
used to play a quick dance, and he used to fold one sleeve and
then the second, he undressed, twisted his hat to one side and
made one or two figures; he made the theatre storm with
applause.
Mogulesco, who was the most
interesting and amusing figure on the stage, was in private life
a piece of "lemeshke." Telling a joke was discouraged --
not that he could, nor did he want to. He used to laugh heartily
from every silly joke. He was the great follower of the comic
Abraham Fishkind, who was the opposite of him. Fishkind was the
greatest comic, but only in a coffee house and in the Actors'
Club. Mogulesco used to break out in laughter from Fishkind's
jokes and Fishkind's facial expressions.
Fishkind used to say to Mogulesco:
"So, Zeligel, God forbid that I should sell my jokes to the
public, as I sell them to you." Mogulesco used to answer: "But I
cannot be a Fishkind."
In practical life, Mogulesco was
naive, like most of the artists, and perhaps even more naive. It
is worth mentioning this case: Some years back, when a company
used to tour through the province and business was bad, the
manager in each city used to leave an actor, so that their costs
would be less, and they used to go even further. When they
didn't have Sigmund
Mogulesco, who was the star, the crown of the company entirely
died of starvation.
Mogulesco used to walk around
cautiously, frightened, and he used to say to each actor
separately: "Oy, brother, I am afraid that I will be next, and
in the next city they will leave me there."
Company actors already knew his
weakness and always used to drop in such a saying, that he
should hear it: "The next city is Mogulesco's -- he is already
remaining here."
Is it worth knowing that in that
time, entire English companies used to remain in the middle --
they used to remain "stranded," without a red cent.
The mayor then of New York, Gaynor,
stopped it. He made it so that the management must bring the
company of actors from whence they were taken.
Being musical helped Mogulesco a
lot as an actor. He did not know much music; however he read
notes a bit and also knew how to write nigunim (religious
melodies) that he used to compose by himself.
His nigunim had the same appeal as
his playing theatre; it was popular, rhythmic and mainly in
Yiddish.
About his most popular songs that
he excelled with: "Trog dos pekele, yidele," "Mn hmtsr krati ih,"
"Vi gefelt eykh aza border": His "Khosn-kale, mazl tov,"
although it was taken a bit from Tchaikovsky, but it bears the
Mogulesco charm and grace.
In the operetta, "Blimele," he
wrote the entire music by himself. It began with a very musical
song for the chorus. Joseph Lateiner, the author of "Blimele,"
said to him:
"Mr. Mogulesco, for the very
musical musical number of the first choir-song, I thank you."
Mogulesco answered: "You need to
thank me, not only for this, but also for your kindness."
Being a weakling, a tiny one, a
person who would never harm a fly on the wall, he loved the
"fights" very much. That said, it was not about himself
fighting, but he went to see professional prize-fighters. Mainly
he loved the harsh, the strong, the "heavyweights." When he was
outside, he used to carry around a sports page, and he used to
speak with enthusiasm about the famous prizefighters at that
time, such as Jeffries, Corbett, Sharkey and Fitzsimmons.
The greatest tragedy in
Mogulesco's life came when he lost his voice, and almost his own
tongue. This happened to him at the time when he was playing his
successful role, "Feitel" in Shomer's "Emigrants."
His illness lasted one year. But
he did not become completely healthy until the end of his life.
After his illness he did not play the Shmendriks and
Bobe Yakhne roles. Mostly he played in Jacob Gordin's plays,
such as, "God, Man and Devil" (as the badkhan), "The
Orphan," "Elisha ben Abuyah." Although he was not the
original [person to play the roles] in Gordin's plays, no one
later was able to emulate him.
Mogulesco spent his whole life
playing and singing a couplet or a secondary joke, and when he
said yes to a traif joke, he immediately sang it with the Mogulesco
grace.
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