I currently have the great pleasure of reading Sharon Connolly’s wonderful book ‘My Giddy Aunt.’ The book was inspired by opening a zither case that belonged to her great aunt, a professional whistler and comedian, who plied her trade across Australia & New Zealand, beginning a child star in the early 1900’s through to the early 1950’s. Gladys Shaw was part of a stage family, but unlike the male counterparts in her family she had to fight the prejudices of the time that saw whistling and comedy as the domain of the man. I highly recommend you grab a copy of the book.
My Giddy Aunt - Sharon Connolly
My Giddy Aunt is a wonderful read and it’s sent me down a rabbit hole to the time before talking pictures when vaudeville, revuesicals, minstrelsy and travelling players were the main source of entertainment. I’m particularly enjoying reading the reviews of shows from this era.
Below is my attempt to pay tribute to, and parody the newspaper critics of the time
Trove - Goldfields Sentinel, May 3rd, 1905
Review - ‘Troupe de le Mignon’ at The Duke of Clarence Theatre, Kalgoorlie by Mr Ivan Clamp
It was with breathless anticipation that the Goldfields community awaited the return of the inimitable company of ‘Troupe de le Mignon.’ The repertoire of this talented ensemble had not been seen on local stages since they brought a devastating smallpox outbreak to the community in 1902. Their last performances led to hundreds of deaths, yet is fondly remembered for the considerable skill and range of entertainments on offer from this world class coterie.
Any residual grievances from the locals who lost loved ones due the company’s laissez faire attitude to public health, were soon put to one side the moment that master of ceremonies, Tiny Kevin stooped under the slowly rising fire curtain of ‘The Duke of Clarence Theatre’ in Kalgoorlie. Once fully raised, a set adorned with miniature furniture, windows and doorways was revealed. The physical antics of the seven foot tall ironically named host, as he unsuccessfully negotiated the Lilliputian set, had the audience baying with laughter. As the fragile set pieces quickly disintegrated by virtue of Tiny Kevin’s size and clumsiness, he hastily introduced the first act.
As a black faced nun with a giant broom removed the detritus, the angelic ‘Baby Bower’ flitted onto the stage. Her ability to not only expertly mimic the call, but also physically inhabit the attributes of the Bower Bird, will not easily be forgotten. The patrons were particularly taken by her sleight of hand as the diminutive performer darted through the seating rows, deftly removing any blue object or apparel item from the helpless audience members to build her nest. Patrons were perfectly giddy with laughter after witnessing Mrs Simkins, of Simkins Drapery fame, running from the dress circle in nothing but her draws. In hindsight her entirely azure ensemble was a poor choice with ‘Baby Bower’ on the advertised bill. However, the high point of the act was undoubtedly the moment when the notable bird impressionist thrilled the crowd by suddenly taking flight, with the assistance of unseen wires and pulleys. She soared over the stalls and punctuated her exit by depositing a stream of white defecation from her artificial cloaca onto the balding pate of the orchestra conductor below.
Her aerial exit was soon after followed by the entrance of Monsieur and Madame Mignon themselves. The couple’s hilarious argumentative sparring was a highlight of their presentation. As was their ability to inject localities into the patter. These combined attributes had patrons wondering if they were indeed fellow residents of the borough, and perhaps in need of the intercession of a lawyer to legally redress a solution to their public bickering.
Those not in the know would have been hard pressed to identify the subterfuge at the heart of their act. Many a suitor to Mr Madame Mignon has appeared at the stage door with floral offerings only to be left as red faced as the roses they soon discarded, after realising the Madame came with a full set of male ornamentation. Equally Mrs Monsieur Mignon has had swooning damsels feint at her feet, after airing her blouse clowns and Venus moss garden after another night of thespianic duplicity.
‘The Royal Goad Family’ whose astonishing physical resemblance to all members of the current British Monarchy, has been astounding audiences throughout the Commonwealth ever since the passing of Queen Victoria.
King Edward the 7th & Queen Alexandra, or Bertie & Aliz, as they are affectionately known, appear rendered as if by mirror by Allan & Cynthia Goad from Geraldton. The monarch and his queen regally escorted their six children onto the stage to the strains of Rule Britannia played by the band, whose leader’s head was still soiled by bird faeces. Of their children, Billy Goad, portrayed the educationally subnormal Prince Albert with aplomb, often skittishly shying away from unseen threats. Prince George [Paddy Goad], glumly fired off his musket at peasants that were released from a wooden crate by Princess Victoria [Annie Goad] who squealed with admiration as each live game met it’s grisly end. Princess Louise [Hetti Goad] took turns with Princess Maud [Izzy Goad] to prop up the lifeless Prince Alexander [played by a life like porcelain doll] who had died as infant. If the family’s combined uncanny likenesses and skilled impressions weren’t enough, the Royal Goad’s cherry topped their performance with an Innuit Throat singing recitation of God Save The King.
‘Two Left Feet O’Brien’ was next on the billing. Born with Gomepedia, the dual left pegged Irish Immigrant from Cork City took the audience through an ever-circling repertoire of Irish dance. His frustrated attempts at preventing his arced trajectory around the stage, led the audiences into paroxysms of uncontrolled laughter before he eventually disappeared into the wings disgorging a litany of profanities, the likes of which have not been heard at ‘The Duke’ since ‘Peter the Expleter’ toured here with ‘Petticoat Royale’ in 1898.
The act of whistling is so utterly the dominion of the male of the species, that the audience took initial umbrage at the sight of the Bourke Sisters bursting into a whistled rendition of Monty Linseed’s hit ‘My Heart is a Fragile Vase and you are the Hammer that Broke it.’ However, such was the skill, range and harmonious capabilities of the Siffleuring sisters, the audience soon overlooked the egregious act of gender dysmorphia and were soon whooping and cheering through their repertoire, which included mimicking the whistled call of every extinct bird and animal in the commonwealth
The penultimate act, ‘Carlo’s Currency Conversion’, required audience members to call out an amount of money in a foreign currency. Carlo then logged said amount on a slate board, before verbally converting that aggregate into 78 international currencies. The repetitive nature of the act was relieved to some degree by his wife Concetta who caricatured each nationality with a single stereotypical gesture. Her Greek gesticulation caused both an audible gasp from, and the early exit of the Papademtriou family.
Tiny Kevin returned to the stage to close the show wearing apparel that was evidently several sizes too small for his elongated limbs. As he reintroduced the rest the company, it became apparent that each had their trousers and skirts hoisted up mid-thigh, revealing faces drawn upon each knee.
Accompanied by the professional whistling Bourke Sisters, Tiny Kevin read the prologue to the Sophocles tragedy, ‘Antigone’ and soon thereafter, each player began to play their dual roles by thrusting the apt leg forward to animate each voice.
No-one at the Duke will easily forget the hilarity of Tiny Kevin’s left leg, playing the role of King Creon, trying to stab his other leg, who was playing the role of Haemon. All the while Madame Mignon’s left leg, that was playing Antigone, was hanging lifelessly from the Royal Box.
The pantomime rightly received a standing ovation, before the patrons were disgorged into the night to reflect on a capital night’s entertainment.
Absurdly hilarious, and delicious. (If you ever stage it, can Steve and I audition for Carlos and Concetta? Steve’s brain’d nail Carlos, and I once married a Greek.)
"thespianic duplicity" 😄👏