A Prime Discovery
The typed manuscript of Thomas G. Moses (1856-1934) provides an abundance of information concerning his design process and the creation of the painted scenery. His typed manuscript was created in 1931 and based on handwritten annual diaries. Moses first mentions working with the Valley of Fort Scott in 1923 writing that he felt “we were in line for the contract.” His story continues with his return in early May, “I made a colored sketch for the decorations and then gave another showing of my scenes and closed the contract.”
By August of 1924 Moses finalized the onsite details, met with his carpenter, and put in a full days work before continuing on his way to Colorado, Utah, California and Washington. In October he returned again few days. His intention was to return in two weeks to commence the painting to the scenery. At this time Moses battled a chronic cough and was beginning to have some health issues. He was 68 years old, overworked, constantly traveling, and taking little time to rest and recuperate.
On October 23rd of that same year, he left for Fort Scott and immediately started work upon his arrival, staying until November 25th. He recorded,” Fulton and I dug in to the work, and it was some hustle to get through, which we did on the 17th of November. At the finish I got a payment of $7,000, the balance to be paid within a month. Our extras brought the contract up to $22,000.00.” Moses did not return to Fort Scott until August of 1925.
While we were onsite, I was able to identify where Moses had painted the majority of the scenery – 20’ above the stage floor. His onsite studio in 1924 was accessible by a narrow ladder that climbed up the back wall of the theatre – on the stage left side.
A few days before our departure, Austin was looking at the converted sewing machine engine on a ledge high above the stage floor, contemplating its removal as a souvenir. This machine tracked the moon for the 21st degree ruined abbey scene and showed the ingenuity of Masonic stagehands. As he checked out the machine, we asked him to look around and see if there was anything else of note up there.
“Just an old wooden barrel,” was Austin’s response. My heart started to race and I immediately asked what was in it.
“I can’t tell as it’s still sealed. But there is a pile of white stuff next to it and the same type of powder leaking out of the seams.”
“Oh my God,” I thought and my heart leapt. He found a barrel of whiting!
Now this might not sound exciting to many people – an old wooden barrel leaking white powder twenty feet above the stage.
What many people don’t know is that whiting was the product used by scenic artists to prime painted backdrops. The chances that this was an original barrel purchased by Moses and abandoned onsite after completing the job was very likely. Whiting was cheap, but too heavy to ship back to the studio.
The traditional formula for drop primer was mixing strong size (diluted hide glue) with a fine powder that primarily consisted of silica, zinc, lead, or a mixture of thereof. The powder was soaked in a galvanized tub of water overnight, making sure that it was thoroughly dissolved and free from lumps. Then it was then “slaked” before using; this process separated out the gritty substance from the chalk. The chalk was scooped out and mixed with strong size. The primer was evenly worked into the fabric of the drop, thus providing a clean and uniform base on which to draw the design.
If an entire unopened barrel of whiting was up there, what other treasures could be hidden away under a layer of filth? Would I be able to verify that Moses used this space as a temporary onsite studio? We headed toward the ladder to check out this exciting new discovery.
To be continued…
