Readers of THE NEW DRAMA may be interested to hear that the enterprise of the actors of the Brahm Company, which in the winter seemed uncertain, is now secure. The Deutsches Künstlertheater was incorporated on April 20, with a capital of 790,000 marks. Willy Grumwald is really to be manager, Ernst Friedmann, business manager, and among the associates are Tilla Durieux, Carl Forest, Gerhart Hauptmann, Hilde Herterich, Else Lehmann, Emil Lessing (Brahm's stage manager), Theodor Loos, Hans Marr, Emanuel Reicher, Rudolf Rittner (who declares, however, that he is to return to the theater only as associate, artistic adviser, and stage manager, and that he still has no intention of ever acting again; since his blending of blazing passion with austere self-discipline is all too rare, let us hope he will change his mind), Oscar Sauer, Mathilde Sussin (whose sublime Deaconess in 'When We Dead Awake' so fully meets Ibsen's requirement of the actor of this character: complete self-effacement until the close, and then tragic acting of the highest order; Alfred Kerr, whose words--don't you think?--no other living critic can equal, has called her 'eine der Schattengestalten dieses grössten Theaters der Unscheinbarkeit, der Seele'), and Paul Wegener. The Deutsches Künstlertheater is still undecided whether to build a theater or to lease one; it will enter into active being in July, 1914, when Otto Brahm will pass, alas, from the active service of the theater, which he has served as has no other man.
A characteristic feature of modern newspaper criticism is the 'slam.' The fundamental principles upon which 'slams' are based are as follows: The writer of a 'slam' ought to be quite young, not long out of college. That is the only sort of person who knows enough to construct a really effective 'slam.' After one has been out of college for a few years the dividing lines between what is good art and what is bad art become more vague. The would-be critic starts out in life with a sort of Procrustean ideal of measurement, to which everything has to be cut down. He is blissfully sure of his standards, and does not need to bother his mind over any possibilities in the way of new artistic developments. Only after he begins to delve into the history of criticism upon his own account does he wake up to the fact that 'the genius is the thing,' and that the slings and arrows of outrageous critics have been powerless to crush him out.