graciously donated by Dave Stevenson

An excerpt from: What Has Happened To Great American Stage Teams by George Brinton Beale

Boston Sunday Post, June 22nd, 1941.

The overture was sounding back through the big, swaying curtains, sweetest music to the actorís ears. A new edition of The Follies was being born that night, now under Shubert management.

In his dressing room, Bobby Clark, of the long-famous team of Clark and McCullough, put the finishing touches to his make-up and stood back to survey the results. He looked over his supply of ever- necessary cigars. It was a first night performance and he had the actorís queer combination of nervousness and eagerness. Rehearsals were over. This time, though, it had to be good. First nights are like that.

Swiftly, he ran through his material, as he added a finishing touch to his make-up. That first act bit, a little change in the business. Through the door and down the corridor he trotted. With his hand on the doorknob of the adjacent dressing room, he suddenly stopped. He couldnít ask McCullough! McCullough, his buddy and teammate since grammar school days back in Springfield, O., was dead. He was Bobby Clark now, not Clark and McCullough. Slowly he retraced his steps to his own dressing room. Inside, he sat down before his make-up mirror. The habit of a lifetime had sent him hurrying to his partner. Always, they had done that. Separate dressing-rooms whenever possible, but a constantly recurring stream of visits for talking over the act.

STARTING NEW CAREER

The Follies was his first show on his own. For a year after McCullough died, by his own hand, he had laid off. But life marches on. A man must live. His work is his life, especially if you are as great an artist as Bobby Clark. He has since scored numerous solo successes in various musicals.

Now Bobby Clark, at 53, is starting a new career in the theater... as a dramatic actor. He opened in Boston in Lee Ephraimís production of Women Aren't Angels at the Wilbur theater. He gave a marvelously finished performance. He contributed some of the funniest bits of business that go to make up the show.

But no more permanent partners. After McCullough's passing, he was first teamed with Fannie Brice, then with Bee Lillie, now he is teamed with Melvin Cooper.

The Clark and McCullough partnership started back in their school days. Then they went into minstrels together. Later, then they were acrobats, they went into the circus. It was after five years with Ringling Bros. Circus, before the combination with the Barnum & Bailey show, that they moved into the theater, in burlesque, in vaudeville and to many successes in musical shows.

"Chummy?" Bobby Clark, stared at me, in an unbelievable way, as we chatted together between shows. We shared an upper berth for five years on the Big Show, if that is being "chummy".

Is it harder to work alone?

Clark savored the idea before answering. Like most comedians he is a serious sort of chap off stage.

Not now, it isn't. In fact, he wouldnít want to have another permanent partner. That you do but once, he commented.

From 1903 to 1936 it was Clark and McCullough. A great period of ever-increasing success. A total of 33 years together. Longest theatrical partnership on record, except that of brothers, he opined. "It is a problem for the surviving partner," he agreed. "It means a complete remaking of your whole life," he went on. "You get a certain sustaining rhythm from a longtime partner. You make timing a fine art. You become a working entity, your talents interlocking and mutually sustaining."