Echoes from 1917: An Autograph, A Playbill, and a Forgotten Star
A century-old music hall autograph book reveals its treasure.
There’s something unsettling—thrilling, even—about holding an object that once belonged to someone long gone. A signature in faded ink, a name scrawled with practiced flair, the startling imprint of a moment.
I have an autograph book from 1917, filled with signatures of music hall artists who performed at the Chatham Empire during the First World War. Their handwriting and flourishes are inked declarations of presence.
And then there’s the playbill. (My friend and fellow voice-actor Louisa Gummer found this online). A newspaper clipping announcing the night’s entertainment, bearing the same names that are in my autograph book, printed in bold, shouting out to a world of war-weary audiences looking for escape in a music hall.
The playbill below mentions ‘ROMANOFF - APACHE VIOLINIST.’
I’m completely intrigued. Who was this man? What did his music sound like? And why ‘Apache’??
And here is ROMANOFF, right there in the ad. Proof of a life, a performance, and music that once filled a room.
Poignantly, his autograph is accompanied by a fragment of hand-written music - the tune is called ‘Forget-me-not.’ Well, Romanoff, you’re not forgotten.
The Apache Violinish might not have been a household name, nor a star that history remembers. But he lived and breathed and played, and he was there.
And for a moment, I can almost hear the applause.
Over the coming months, I’ll be sharing more signatures from my autograph book. Stay tuned for more.