The Tragedy of the 'Dizzy' Actor
A backstage look at the fading stars of the Pacific Coast theater circuit.
The Pacific coast is the paradise for a specific species of human biped known in the profession as 'dizzies.' The dizzy is usually an actor of the old school who, in days past, was an excellent artist, but having been unable to change his style, is now laughed at. However heavy the hand of fate may be upon him, the dizzy never doubts his own talent; if others roll in wealth while he suffers the pangs of hunger, he attributes it to 'luck' or a depraved public taste that cannot recognize a good actor. One of the most famous of these was McKean Buchanan, a former sugar dealer who became stage-struck. He was a good fellow, witty and well-educated, but possessed by a mania for Shakespearean roles. His costumes were legendary; he would command actors to stand aside for his 'three-ply velvet' cloak, imported from Lyons. Though audiences often 'guyed' him, he accepted the popular verdict with a smile, famously disarming criticism by avowing himself the worst star actor in the civilized world, even while secretly believing otherwise.
“Stand aside, minions! Make room for my three-ply—imported from Lyons, every inch of it! Blood! Blood! Iago? blood.”
This piece captures the precariousness of the performer's life in the 19th-century West, where vanity and poverty often lived side-by-side. It mirrors the modern struggle of independent artists in Yakima seeking relevance in an era where digital 'gaze' has replaced the raucous theater pit.
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