Word: thespians
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Elam Davies, 63. Fourth Presbyterian Church of Chicago. In a time of laid-back preaching, Davies is a successful anachronism: a consummate, self-conscious and often florid dramatist of the pulpit. A transplanted Welshman with volatile eyebrows and a powerful Thespian gift, he is not a large man, but he fills the brooding gothic gloom of the Near North Side church with his resounding voice, as the late Dylan Thomas might if he were reading Yeats, or Richard Burton would if playing Hamlet. Like the poet Thomas, Davies grew up in Swansea, Wales. He claims that Burton patterned his style...
...that Charles is so hooked on ratiocination because he is so bad at acting. On the funny side of 50, Charles is the kind of thespian whose career has been confined to small parts in the big time and big parts in the small time. When he needs a disguise, Charles usually borrows a look or an accent from one of his flops, and Brett wickedly runs in a quote from one of his provincial reviews ("Had I not known it to be a good play, this production would not have convinced me of its merit"). Charles' personal life...
Britons also reveled, mostly at a distance, in the opening last month in the venerable Ritz Hotel of London's newest and most elegant casino. More than 350 guests, including the Countess of Suffolk, the Baron de Montesquieu and the prince of thespian cool, James Mason, consumed 300 lobsters, 25 Ibs. of beluga caviar and 50 cases of Dom Perignon champagne while inaugurating wheels and tables that insouciantly accommodate $8,000 wagers at a clip. "Nice, isn't it?" a Ritz entrepreneur observed demurely. "In London, there's something for everyone...
CREW SPLINTERS: Crimson will miss the presence of three-seat Chris Kennedy, sidelined for the season with knee tendonitis... Junior varsity stalwart Geoff Brooks also gone after trading oars for thespian gear in Hasty Pudding Show... The last time Harvard rowed on the Harlem River (1975), a Crimson rower was hit in the head with a rock from a spectator's sling-shot and was rushed to the hospital. Pickering had to race both J.V. and varsity that afternoon on a river he says is filled with "tires, nail-boards and bodies"... The race will be going with the tide...
...muster, both individually and as a unit. If a cast has a collective feeling and the actors do their homework, the audience senses a flow that carries it along from scene to scene. Without that intangible, scenes fall flat, jokes sound stale, and productions become free-for-alls of thespian one-upmanship. Exceptions on any level are rare, particularly on the college level. This problem takes a particularly acute form at the Loeb's Mainstage Theater, a beautifully appointed but somewhat cavernous theater in which many well-intended but poorly produced shows die agonizing deaths each year...