I occasionally walk back from the mirror that I may get an impression such as a distant spectator might receive.
The hands and arms are made up if the character demands it.
The dressing is completed and I step in front of a full-length mirror for a final inspection prior to going upon the stage.
What the precise impression is that I make upon my audience I cannot say, I only know that in many character parts I have been unable to recognise myself.
The time that it takes to make-up must of course vary with the complexity of the characterisation. At dress-rehearsals when I make-up for character for the first time I allow myself one hour and a half, but this when I get more experienced with the part is sometimes reduced to half an hour. The hurry that this necessitates is nerve-racking both for actor and dresser and becomes a race with the call-boy. "Half an hour please," he shouts, his voice echoing up the stairs. Then you begin to work furiously. When what seems only a few minutes gone by, his second warning, "A quarter of an hour, please," is heard. Then you increase your speed. When the boy calls "Overture," if you are not almost dressed you tell your dresser with more decision than taste that you know that you will be off. "First-act beginners" means a bad-tempered rush for the stage, and the struggle with final buttons on your way. Once upon the stage you almost invariably find that you have a few minutes in which to regain your breath. Then, warmed by the glare of the footlights, you forget that you have ever hurried in your life. In fact, if you are a good actor you forget everything but the part you play.
At the conclusion of the play you retire to your dressing-room, flushed, I hope, with success. To resume your real self is a matter of little difficulty, and yet it may be helpful to have a method suggested.
Begin by removing parts of the clothing, as it unquestionably would be soiled in the dirty process of removing the make-up.
First take off the wig, next the moustache, then the beard; carefully remove the false nose, or any other modelling in relief, for if they are preserved with care they may be used repeatedly. Next, with a small quantity of oil, or any other grease that may be preferred, soften the grease-paint slightly and remove it with a towel. This first cleansing will only remove part of the colour, in fact, the treatment with oil must be repeated two or three times before every trace of paint has disappeared. When this has been achieved, wash thoroughly with warm water and pure Castile soap; dry the face, taking care that every vestige of paint has been removed.