Constance Collier Talks (1919) 🇬🇧

Charlie Chaplin’s Genius — A tree story — Actresses as mothers.

Outside, Kensington wilted beneath the glare of a pitiless sun, but within, in Constance Collier’s drawing-room was serenity and shade.

The delicate grey of walls and carpet was restful to sun-strained eyes; and while I waited for the mistress of the house, I looked about me.

Not all was grey in this cool place of refuge. Above the settee, whose puce-coloured cushions were never made for mortal head, glowed a rich painting of Miss Collier by Francis Haviland. Beside it hung an exquisite little Meissonier, given to the actress, as I learnt later, by the great French actor, Coquelin [Benoît-Constant Coquelin], the original Cyrano de Bergerac. A William Nicholson adorned another wall, and here and there were sketches by Byham Shaw and Charles Conder, and, in a corner, a pencil study by Viola Tree. Against the dark background of the piano a wonderful inlaid chair stood out in bold relief, while near a window, a glittering display of Bristol and American cut glass caught and held the morning sunshine.

I had risen to look at some painted panels over the mantelpiece when I heard a light step behind me, and, turning, confronted Miss Collier.

“I’ve shamelessly been inspecting all your treasures,” I explained, as we shook hands. My hostess smiled.

“Those panels are really part of a frock,” she said, “and take me back to a dance I once attended at the Slade School, when I was a girl. I was quite poor at the time, and only had a very simple white dress to wear for the occasion, and so the great Charles Conder very kindly painted these beautiful designs upon it for me. I suppose it was one of the most wonderful frocks a girl ever wore.”

Refreshingly Devoid of Make-up.

Miss Collier seated herself opposite me, the gold of her velvet tunic adding yet another note of colour to the room. The light fell full upon her, and her dark-brown eyes and handsome features, so. refreshingly devoid of “make-up,” met it unflinchingly. There was nothing of the “great actress” about her — consciously. Though grace and dignity were in every line of that splendid body, there was an entire absence of pose, while the voice that had thrilled so many thousands fell in quiet and level tones. Her manner was that of a frank and merry-hearted companion.

“It seems a long time since we had the pleasure of seeing you either on stage or screen over here. Miss Collier. Would you mind telling me something of your work in America?”

“For the past three years I have been appearing on the stage over there, in Peter Ibbetson. Before that I spent a year in Los Angeles, making pictures, among them Macbeth, with the late Sir Herbert Tree [Herbert Beerbohm Tree], Tongues of Men, and The Code of Marcia Gray. As far as I can recollect, at the moment, I have appeared in about six pictures.”

“During your stay in Los Angeles you became well acquainted with Charlie Chaplin, did you not, Miss Collier?”

“Yes. Mr. Chaplin was a personal friend of mine,” was the reply. “He is a very different type of man to that which some people imagine. He is very cultivated, and plays the violin wonderfully. He is one of the most active geniuses I have ever met — a brilliant companion, a great imitator. When he and Sir Herbert Tree were dining together it used to be most amusing, for they would conduct their conversation in imitation foreign languages, and the imitation was so good that it sounded as if they were speaking the actual thing.

“They say that genius is three-quarters hard work. Mr. Chaplin works all the time!

“He is a very good-looking man, and very Italian in appearance.”

“And now will you please tell me something about the film you have just completed, Miss Collier. It is called The Impossible Woman, is it not?”

“Yes. Ethel Barrymore appeared in the stage version of it in America, and Lillah McCarthy over here. It is an expression of the artistic temperament, and offers the view that all artists are tyrants, and yet at the same time very lonely people, with Art as their only love, and the one part of them that is genuine.”

“Do you share that view, Miss Collier?”

Actresses are Wonderful Mothers.

I think Art either takes that form in its devotees — that artists are sometimes Juggernauts overriding everything and everybody — or else just the reverse. Great artists are very tender-hearted, and all great actresses — Mrs. Siddons [Sarah Siddons], Sarah Bernhardt, Duse [Eleonora Duse], Ellen Terry — have been wonderful mothers.

“The Impossible Woman is adapted from the novel Tante, whose principal character is, in real life, a well-known pianist, whose name I must not, of course, divulge.”

“To ask you the time-honoured question. Miss Collier, which do you prefer, stage or screen?”

“I have no special preference. I consider the screen, which I find a very interesting study, a great help to the stage, especially from the point of view of magnificent settings. The screen has certainly made the stage look to its laurels.”

M. H. C.

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Constance Collier, who has recently returned from America.

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Constance Collier — Tragedy Queen.

A charming series of photographs of Constance Collier, the celebrated English actress, who has returned to England after a visit to America, which was far too long to suit the thousands of her admirers on this side. She is here seen in the parts which gave her a world-wide reputation.

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• “Britannia.”
• (Photo: Arbuthnot.)
• Constance Collier and John Barrymore in Peter Ibbetson.
• Lady Macbeth.

Collection: Picture Show Magazine, 30 August 1919

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see also Constance Collier Begins Her Hollywood Career (1935)