The American Repertory Theatre, whose monogram, by some chance, spells "Art," are blatantly defying their motto in a production of Sir J. M. Barrie's "What Every Woman Knows." When the company reached Boston, the New England equivalent of Shubert's Alley was buzzing with hoarse whispers about "something new in the theatre." Unfortunately, it's the same old stuff rendered into a diamond-studded offering that will probably keep the box-office busy and local theatre-goers content.

There is some question as to exactly what the purpose of a "repertory theatre" is. Some have claimed it to be of an experimental nature, to assemble a collection of rare plays and good actors and maintain a fountain from which will pour a variety of dramatic experiences not available at your neighborhood theatre. Others explain the aim of a repertory company as the staging of classic vehicles, well-known, well-read, but seldom seen--such as this company has done in "Henry VIII" and will do with "John Gabriel Borkman." The actual merit of the production is secondary to the fact that interested spectators are seeing, in ideal repertory offerings, things that were destined for the stage and have, by changes in modern tastes and temperaments, been relegated to the closet.

Despite a poor choice in Barrie's gaslight comedy, the production was good. Encased in an excellent set by Paul Morrison, Philip Bourneuf, Ernest Truex, Richard Waring, and Eva Le Gallienne went through the vintage-piece with professional mien. Truex, as Alick Wylie, the old Scotchman, is a funny little man in any accent. Eva Le Gallienne, contrasting the prevailing brogue with a gaudy, if inaccurate, French accent, had most of the good lines and used them all for at least five rounds of applause. June Duprez, as the "woman who always knows" is not as plain a wench as Barrie called for, and considerably less crafty. The business of personal appearance seems to impose something of a strain on her, and it might be well for her to return to filmland where she scored admirably in "None But the Lonely Heart" and "And Then There Were None."