While Wendy Waszut-Barrett is recovering from travel and catching up on current projects. She is reposting a few early installments from “Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar Acquiring: The Fort Scott Scottish Rite Scenery for the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center.” Here is her nineteenth post from March 4, 2017.
For additional installments, visit www.drypigment.net
Part 19: Colorful Ruminations above the Stage
I climbed twenty-feet up above the stage, using the narrow metal ladder to reach a level that had once possibly been Thomas G. Moses’ onsite paint studio. At the age of sixty-eight, Moses would have ascended this same ladder multiple times every day during his brief stay in Fort Scott to paint the scenery. I was reminded once again that scenic art has never been a profession for the weak.
The platform, or studio floor, above the stage area was now in abandoned ruins. By June 2014, all of the contents in the building were auctioned off. Over a year later, any artifacts remaining in the complex were small piles of discarded items. Above the stage, there were only mounds of dirt and debris.
I tried to imagine the space as it was 1924 – Moses’ paint studio, complete with impromptu tables with scattered pots of color and brushes everywhere. Buckets of water and a drop tacked onto the temporary frame would have completed the picture. There might only be the single barrel of whiting too and nothing else.
Regardless, my first task was to look for splotches of dry pigment color on the floor, marking paint spills or where the colorful powder had leaked from either bags or boxes. Areas with dry pigment could verify and onsite paint studio. The barrel of whiting could technically belong to any onsite painter and not just a scenic artist. I needed more information to verify the presence of a scenic art studio.
There was almost too much dust and debris to even identify what was beneath my feet in the dim light. I continued my trek across the space, carefully looking down and trying to spot any anomaly amongst piles of dirt. The space was only partially lit by the overspill of the few stage lights that still worked.
Did I bring my flashlight up here? No, of course not. I tripped over a pile of rubbish and kicked up some more dust. Coughing, I also realized that I didn’t have my particle mask. It was next to my flashlight in the auditorium. Oh well, opening the barrel of whiting would warrant another trip anyway.
I continued to move toward the barrel, minding my step and realizing that I could be courting disaster. No flashlight, no particle mask, and no railing along the steep edge. All I needed to do was to cough, trip, stumble and fall to the stage floor. The idea of this catastrophe resulting from Murphy’s law made me giggle. I had already tripped over the tubes downstairs and my ankle was almost swollen beyond recognition!
These thoughts ceased when I neared the barrel of whiting and saw a splotch of bright blue against the grey floor. I recognized it immediately as dry pigment. Brandon then pointed out another splotch near the edge.
Each was a colorful reminder of the past! The dry pigment was not limited to the floor, but splattered all over the brick walls. I was ecstatic and internally celebrating the validation of my theory.
Austin, the youngest of our crew, became curious and knelt on the dirty floor, brushing away piles of dirt. He crawled to the six-inch gap between the edge of the studio floor and exterior brick wall. Reaching into the gap, he probed the area. He was holding something when he withdrew his arm – a paintbrush!
However, this was not just any paintbrush. It was a scenic fitch! This confirmed that a scenic artist had worked up here. This evidence and the written information recorded in Moses’ typed manuscript just verified the location of his onsite studio!
To be continued…
