Month: April 2017

It Had to Be You

My brief time spent in Austin was much more productive than I had envisioned when setting out on my journey. Over the course of eleven days, I had transcribed Moses’ 1931 diary and completed the Santa Fe Scottish Rite photo shoot for an upcoming publication (Museum of New Mexico Press, 2018). In Austin, I was simply completing one task, research that was spontaneous and had no specific direction, timeline, or desired outcome. I believed that my frantic pace would slow down at this point and I could simply enjoy the moment, savoring each document and painting that I encountered. I could not have been more wrong and my pace would increase to warp speed. In Austin, my research became divided into three specific projects: the model theatre, the Austin Scottish Rite, and the John Rothgeb Papers. Had I known what I was to encounter, I would have planned at least a week so that I could enjoy other aspects of the city beyond the archives.

I’ll start with the main purpose of my trip to the Harry Ransom Center, a theatre model attributed to the Sosman & Landis studio. I had read an online article about the conservation of this collection, describing the contents in its entirety, complete with 112 Masonic designs for the Scottish Rite theatres from approximately 1900.

A paper conservation intern, Rémy Dreyfuss, was the one to begin the preservation of these Masonic designs during 2014. Perfect timing, I thought, as these images would not have been available online before 2014, prompting the incentive for this leg of my trip, a desire to see each painting on site. Like Dreyfuss, I had processed the Great Western Stage Equipment Company collection and the Holak collection for the University of Minnesota Performing Arts archives as an undergraduate student, evaluating the condition of each item and creating a corresponding database to organize the items, descriptive data, and other imagery. The link to the article on the conservation of Sosman & Landis collection is: designdesignshttps://blog.hrc.utexas.edu/2014/12/11/masonic-theater-conservation/

Regardless of what the online article stated, the description of Moses’ model in his diary was fresh in my mind. In 1931 Moses took a new approach to the lack of studio work. He decided to be proactive and create a demand for his painting services again. Moses was going to create the most complete model to date that depicted the scenery for Blue Lodge, York Rite, Scottish Rite, and Shrine. He noted that his designs would be 20” tall by 28” wide, complete with a specialty lighting system to showcase the scenic effects in the model. Moses referred to his creation as “the Chicago model” and it was intended to be marketed by Perry “Lester” Landis, son of Sosman & Landis founder Abraham “Perry” Landis. During August of that year, Moses wrote, “I hope to be able to finish it and have it ready for business when the time comes if Landis can only close on some of the jobs he is after.”

At the age of 75, Moses was already digging into his savings account for daily expenses due to the lack of work, commenting that solely working on models was no way to make a living. He knew that there was no safety net once his savings account ran out and needed to secure some painting work. Moses desperately hoped that Landis would not get cold feet and cease his funding of the entire model. Furthermore, he desperately hoped that he would be given the eventual painting work IF the Scottish Rite Valleys selected his designs.

At this point in his life, Moses was primarily hired for design work, creating small-scale models for painted scenes used at a variety of theatrical venues. Unfortunately, none of the studio owners would promise Moses any of the resulting painting work of his designs. The studios frequently gave the work to younger and cheaper artists. It was really a sad state of affairs for Moses and his writing reveals his sense of betrayal and desperation. After working non-stop for many years to actively secure profits for studio shareholders, they abandoned him in his time of need. There was no sense of obligation to include an aged scenic artist on their projects, especially one who had slowed down his pace and had a harder time crawling around on the floor.

Moses was desperate for work and realized that he had to go out and “hustle up some work” – one of his common phrases throughout his memoirs. In a sense, he was starting his career all over again, trying to find a special niche in the painting world. At his lowest point, Moses decided to create a new and innovative theatre model. At this time, Volland Studios, in St. Louis, Missouri, was replacing Sosman & Landis Studio as the leading manufacturer of Masonic scenery. Even Becker Bros. Studio of Chicago appeared to attain more Masonic work. Landis and his scenic department were frantic to regain their position as leaders in Masonic scenery production.

By November 1931, Moses had completed his model for Landis and organized a premiere viewing at the Pasadena Scottish Rite. He intended to show off his model before leaving for Chicago and get the reaction of the local Masons. By 1925, Moses had become a Mason himself in California. Interestingly, he selected Pasadena in the Southern Jurisdiction to complete his Scottish Rite degree work, instead of Chicago in the Northern Jurisdiction. His extremely close friendships with various Scottish Rite executives in the Valley of Pasadena seemed an ideal fit, plus the painted scenery business in Los Angeles continued to thrive despite the Great Depression.

It was 2:00 PM on Friday, November 20, when Moses brought his model down to the Pasadena Scottish Rite Temple. He wrote, “They were well pleased with the job and I hope to be able to get the work when they are ready for it. A few little criticisms with the model on some sets.” The second statement made me chuckle and think, “Everyone always has an opinion on how to improve your painting – especially if they don’t paint themselves!” After the premier, Moses spent the next ten days saying farewell to friends, including many of the regions finest artists, such as Edgar Payne. By November 30, Moses began to pack up his personal belongings, art supplies and his model, writing, “Started to pack today and it is going to be a big job and I will have plenty of excess to pay on the two trunks.” These were the two trunks containing his Chicago electric theatre model. On December 2, Moses departed for Chicago.

In the back room at the archives in Austin, I patiently waited for the first of two massive trunks to be opened. The first only held the model theatre, as all other contents were now carefully divided into archival boxes and stored elsewhere. Then the second trunk was opened and I looked inside with amazement. There were dozens of designs, each hanging from a miniature wooden batten and packed in like sardines.

I Looked at the lid of the trunk and noticed a manufacturer’s label. The handwritten date on it said “December 13, 1931.” Furthermore, the trunk was manufactured in Los Angeles, California. “This is it,” I exclaimed. I was looking at Moses’ paintings and the theatre model that he constructed in 1931!

To be continued…

You Came to Me from Out of Nowhere

We left Santa Fe and the Scottish Rite on October 23, 2016, heading toward Austin, Texas. It would take us two days to get there and Christee Lee was determined that we visit the UFO Museum in Roswell. While touring the museum, I thought of the CEO’s comment regarding the creation of the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center’s Ladd Museum. He said, “Anyone can design a museum.” Looking at plastic Kmart frames showcasing copies of questionable facts hung from pegboards, I thought, “Yes, ANYONE can design a museum, but that doesn’t mean that they SHOULD.” I knew that at some point, the owner and investors had walked through with immense pride for their creation, not understanding that it could have been so much more.

After lunch in an alien-themed Mexican restaurant, we continued on toward Texas in the repaired RV. Now complete with new tires and a repaired septic, we would face yet another trial.

It was rush hour when we entered the Austin City limits. I had just finished transcribing the last page of Moses’ 1931 Diary and noticed that we had pulled into a parking lot. We were waiting for the rush-hour traffic to diminish and I said “What timing!” We were almost to our final location and decided to stop for dinner. I was still mentally processing the final entries by Moses as I crawled out of the backseat. In December of 1931, Moses shipped his designs and theatre model off to Chicago in two massive trunks that necessitated excess handling fees.

Stepping out of the truck onto the warm asphalt, I took stock of our new surroundings when I heard an exclamation from Christee. Unbelievably, the RV door wouldn’t open, it was jammed shut. After determining that prying open the door with a crow bar or shoving me in thru a broken window was not the soundest of plans, we called AAA and headed to our new campground. The remainder of the evening was spent waiting for a locksmith. Luckily, the lock on the exterior bar worked and we were able to relax while waiting for the locksmith and discussing our schedules for the next few days.

I had waited for over twenty years to visit the Harry Ransom Center and I was going to spend every single one of my moment there looking at the 1920s electric theatre model, Moses’ typed manuscript, and Moses’ scrapbook. This was the same manuscript and scrapbook that I created an index as an undergraduate student. I was extremely curious about the 1920’s model and the miniature lights that lit the stage. Lance Brockman had once photographed it and raved about miniature lights, explaining how the painting could change each scene from daytime to nighttime. So amazed was he with it, that he had included images in his catalogue for “Theatre of the Fraternity: Staging the Sacred Space of the Scottish Rite” in 1996.

Eric Colleary, Cline Curator of Theatre and Performing Arts at the Harry Ransom Center, was going to personally take me into the bowels of the archives the next day as the two trunks could not be moved to the reading room. It had taken over a month to plan my trip to the archives, but Brockman had connected me with the Colleary who also held a Ph.D. from the University of Minnesota’s Department of Theatre Arts and Dance.

While driving across the plains of Texas and reading Moses’ diary entries, I began to wonder if there might be any connection between the theatre model that I was traveling to see, rumored as a Sosman & Landis Studio artifact, and Moses. Would there be any of Moses’ 1920s designs in with the collection, such as the unique Fort Scott compositions from 1924?

The next day, we wound our way to the model, pushing aside rows of hanging puppets that blocked our path. How ironic, I thought, here is this magnificent model tucked away behind rows of puppets – the painted stage’s smallest performers. I looked at the two massive trunks sitting on palettes against the back wall and had a growing sense of excitement. Could these really contain Moses’ work?

To be continued…

It’s Only a Canvas Sky, Hanging Over a Muslin Tree

 At Colorado Springs, we encountered the first real snag in our cross-country journey to Santa Fe –new truck tires. This meant a slight delay and one that I could not afford to take. Without hesitation I continued on to Santa Fe in a rental car, leaving both traveling companions behind. I had an immovable deadline and a difficult task – photographing and processing twenty-nine degree scenes in seven days. There would be no stage crew or wardrobe department during each photo shoot, just Jo and I. We were up against the wall.

It was during my drive from Colorado to New Mexico that I finally felt able to breathe again. It was the mountains and the fall colors that energized my core. At the first glimpse of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, I finally felt that my soul was whole again and I was at peace. Every time I visited this area of New Mexico, I pondered how soon we could move here. I really am living in the wrong region, I thought. Picking up a handful of the area’s colorful dirt urges many to contemplate its ancient inhabitants; this is the inspiration that calls to many artists. It pulls at your soul and begs you to stay in the arid desert, capturing the vivid skies and tumultuous rainstorms. It makes me want to hike ancient trails and paint age old scenes.

During my week in Santa Fe, Jo and I worked non-stop, scheduling three photo sessions a day with a new groups of models for every shoot. Luckily, I ended up staying at Jo’s home so that we could “work” before work at the Scottish Rite and “work” after work at the Scottish Rite. We had been unable to secure enough volunteers from the Santa Fe Scottish Rite Reunion, so Masonic men were scarce to act as models. Jo brought in a variety of local residents and friends who added to our workload. This meant new people and meeting a variety of fascinating local artists and photographers- many who were transplants to the region from various areas across the globe. Even my traveling companions came into help for two days and once again, Andrew was handling the lines and Christee dressing people in wardrobe. Thank God for their help as I was starting to burn out.

As wonderful as the landscape and people were, I needed to be in a Scottish Rite theatre again.  Every time I step onto a Scottish Rite stage, I experience a moment magic. The stage and painted scenery collections become living entities. It is something that passes on Masonic messages to each new generation and I find tranquility. I used to compare it to “coming home.” I step on a Scottish Rite stage, look up at the wooden battens, and become part of something greater than myself; it gives me purpose. Whatever I may have experienced at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center, it had nothing to do with the Fraternity or Masonic principles. It was devoid of this magic. Standing under the stage lights, I realized that I would continue my calling elsewhere; seeking peace on other fraternal stages steeped in history.

Throughout the entire shoot, Jo and I recognized that we were involved in something groundbreaking, standing on the edge of a precipice that contained something truly unique. Many historical painted scenes had been photographed throughout the decades, some even with costumed participants in static stage pictures. But we were Photographing 1912 degree productions with a contemporary photographic style where Jo activated various areas of the composition to suggest the life on stage.

To be continued…

 

 

Escape

 It felt like I was fleeing the state on October 12, 2016; so desperate was my need to leave Minnesota and seek sanctuary in Santa Fe. I began a cross-country road trip with two dear friends from college. We had all been in the theatre department together at the University of Minnesota and shared many stressful times working on theatre productions or other projects. It was a trip that would test the limits of any relationship as we journeyed from Des Moines, Iowa, to Santa Fe, New Mexico in Christee Lee’s RV. After Santa Fe, our plan was to venture east to Austin, Texas, so that I could visit the Harry Ransom Research Center at the University of Texas – Austin. There was a 1920s electric theatre model that I had wanted to see for over twenty years.

As we travelled across country, I finally started a project that had been on the back burner since 2014; transcribing a handwritten diary of Thomas Gibbs Moses from 19131.  In case you had forgotten, Moses was the sole scenic artist for the Fort Scott collection and I had been restoring his landscape drops in Scottish Rite theaters for years.

This handwritten diary was but one of many that he referenced when compiling his final typed manuscript in 1931. As an undergraduate, I had created an index for both Moses’ Diary and his Scrapbook. The handwritten diary is part of Lance Brockman’s collection, and he had passed it off to me during the fall of 2014 with the hope that I would transcribe it in my “spare time.” Unfortunately, my work for the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center had taken precedence over the past two years and it had remained untouched – always placed on the corner of my drafting table. This little book had moved from my Bella Scena, LLC office in Cambridge to my “office house” in Bloomington, and finally to our new home in Crystal. For my travels, I took digital photos of each page, knowing that I would want to enlarge them on my iPad for viewing.

I watched the landscape from the back seat of a truck, carefully transcribing page after page of Moses’ almost illegible script. My iPad perched against the door handle and my laptop balanced on my knees, I slowly entered each word into my document. Moses had a tendency to not only misspell, but also use various spellings for the same word. The first twenty pages of transcription were difficult until I familiarized myself with his cursive and the phrasing. My first breakthrough was recognizing “the,” and “down.” Interestingly, if I didn’t think to hard about what I was doing, the sentences would occasionally just flow from the page onto my laptop.

1931 was a low point in Moses’ career, having been betrayed by many of those he had worked for throughout the past five decades and found himself financially stressed. He looks back over the years, yearning to paint for pleasure instead of a paycheck; he wishes that he were a more accomplished as an artist at the age of 75. His age and health were becoming a liability as he struggled to obtain work for the first time in his life. Up until then, it had he had an abundance of work. As I realized his struggle, both financial and internal, I thought that this might be an appropriate time to read his entries.

On January 14, 1931, he writes, “I am going to Milwaukee tomorrow with Megan and see if I can dig up some work as I understand there is a Masonic job up there or that is what I want to do as much as I can as I am more fitted for that.” He knew the type of painting that he did best, yet the Masonic work was drying up after the crash of 1929 and the Scottish Rite Masons were not paying their bills. Masons not paying their bills was nothing new and the scenic studios constantly waited in fear for a Valley to renege on a contract, or skip the final payment. For years, the Sosman & Landis Studio financed various Scottish Rite Valleys for terms of six years or more. But many Valleys were always late on the final payments, making both artists and studios to beg for what was contractually theirs.

Furthermore, as painted scenery work became scarce, the game of securing scenery installations became a cutthroat business for scenic studios. As a younger generation began to replace original studio founders and create competing companies in the 1920s, old alliances began to crumble. Gentlemanly agreements between studios during the first two decades of twentieth century ceased. Moses continued to seek work and studio space in both California and Illinois, finding plenty of “part-time” work without any of the full-time job security. During some of his darkest hours his family suffered from Scarlet Fever. On top of everything else, Moses writes in despair, “Still floundering along with little in sight, and the house full of sick ones.” My little case of Shingles paled in comparison.

This was a particularly difficult story to read for a variety of reasons, but especially in light of my former employer. As I transcribed Moses’ soul-wrenching entries, I sympathized with his desperation and overall sense of betrayal. He had worked as a scenic artist for over fifty years and now was either being cast aside for cheaper artists or taken advantage of by studio owners. Moses understood that his age was a liability, but there were no retirement plans. There simply was no safety net for aging freelance artists. So Moses turned to fine art, painting and trying to sell enough of his work to cover his ever-increasing bills, writing, “I am doing all I can to get some of my pictures out but it seems a hard job, no one wants to take a chance on selling them.”

Moses never joined the scenic artists’ union nor transitioned into painting for film. His career remained firmly in the production of painted scenery for the stage with skills that many no longer sought. Furthermore, he did not have the backing of a single company to ensure his retirement as Sosman & Landis became tossed about between shareholders. Moses only had a savings account for old age and that was rapidly diminishing after the 1929 market crash.

As I continued to transcribe the diary on my way to Santa Fe, I wondered about his contractual negotiations both in Santa Fe and Fort Scott. Did either of these Valleys pay their final invoices on time or were they part of the ongoing problem; one that would manifest into aged buildings with deferred maintenance?

To be continued…

Enjoy these scenes from the 18th Degree (Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry) Degree productions.  Have a wonderful Easter Sunday!

Once Upon a Time Never Comes Again

The peace I desperately sought in Santa Fe provided only a short-lived respite.

Unfortunately for me, there was an upcoming event at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center that I had hoped to avoid. However, I could not as it was my husband’s life long dream; he had combined his passion for music with mine for historic scenery in an upcoming concert. It would be perfect if only I were still working at the center and restoring the Fort Scott scenery.

Andrew Barrett approached the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center’s general director about a possible choral concert during February of 2016, scheduling it for February 2017. Andrew was being hired as the guest conductor for Singers in Accord and had proposed a unique theme for the concert – pairing historic scenery with appropriate song. At the time, he knew what the scenes looked like from my own personal records documenting the Fort Scott scenery. He had thoughtfully matched the artwork of Thomas Moses to the music of Eric Whitacre, Ola Gjeilo, Anton Bruckner, C. H. H. Parry, Paul Mealor, and other composers.

Obviously, I was no longer employed as Curatorial Director or leading the restoration work. During August 2016, he started to inquire about the feasibility of having restored painted scenes for his concert as originally promised by the general director during February 2016. He specifically emailed the general director, “Will there be stabilized and restored scenery hanging in the theatre by February 7, 2017, the date of our agreed dress rehearsal, or should we search for an alternative venue? I will need to provide an update at the next Singers in Accord board meeting on August 30.”

The general director’s response simply stated, “We believe the drops will be available, but we cannot make any guarantees regarding the February date. If that is a problem, I will certainly understand if you need to move the location of your event. I will probably know more next week.”

My husband was distressed that the whole point of the concert might not be there. He would comment, “ I envisioned this project when I still had an inside line to the project’s Lead.” In the March 2016 Minnesota Masonic Charities video during Grand Lodge, it showed my profile stating, “the nation’s leading historical scenery expert would restore the entire collection. “ No wonder why Minnesota Freemasons still believe that I am leading the restoration! For the record in case it is not perfectly clear, I had nothing to do with the restoration or selection of the individuals who are currently working on the project. Minnesota Masonic Charities mislead both the Grand Lodge officers and the membership of Minnesota concerning who would restore the scenery.

As the restoration continued to be delayed throughout the fall, I knew that the likelihood of restored scenes for my husband’s concert continued to diminish. I intimately knew how long it would take to restore each drop; they were rapidly running out of time to clean, stabilize and hang the necessary scenes for the concert.

It was after the general director’s August response, that I suggested my husband have a back up plan. I would help him create a slide show of high-resolution images from the Fort Scott collection of those same scenes, then if he were informed at the last minute that there wouldn’t be any restored scenery for his concert he would have a safety net. I suggested that he get the specifications for the projection screen and we could start planning as I knew there had been a continued discussion concerning where the screen would hang. Again after no response from the general director when my husband requested the specifics, stating that he was planning to use projections instead of scenery. I took matters into my own hands and directly contacted the theatre consulting firm; requesting the specifications and their advice for this particular event. They knew that my husband was simply caught in the crossfire and offered a whole range of solutions for digital projections during the concert.

Jump ahead to October, the day after I was guest speaker for the Forest Lake Lodge stated communication held at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center. They asked me to present on the design process for the complex and my involvement.

The day after, my husband again emailed the general director that as he would not be using historic scenery for the concert, Singers in Accord would use a slide show of historical images to accompany the concert. He wrote, “While I had originally been anticipating the actual collection, and the novel experience that would have brought, the digital approach allows us to be more seamless in our stagecraft, and to give the audience an up-close look at the details of the scenery without them actually having to leave their seats! This approach allows us to present a unique experience of choral music in a multi-media environment – something that is rarely done.”

Four minutes later, the general director responded, “I forwarded your request to the people working on the drops and asked them to prioritize the scenes you indicated. They started work this week and I believe there is a reasonable possibility the scenes will be ready. I hope to give you a further update on the actual drops by the end of next week.”

Enough with the empty words! By this point, I was less than a week away from departing for Santa Fe and the Scottish Rite photo shoot. I had never been so excited to leave town. It was perfect timing. I needed to leave behind the continued drama that constantly linked me to the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center and the Fort Scott scenery restoration. No matter how hard I tried, I could not escape the place and was constantly reliving the betrayal in my mind.

I stopped volunteering in the Scottish Rite library on Thursdays and had no desire to return to any Masonic event in Minnesota, regardless of my husband’s affiliation. I just wanted a six-month break from Minnesota Freemasonry as my heart needed time to heal and that meant leaving the state.

To be continued…

My Great Adventure has Begun!

I always have found comfort in song. Whether hymns, blues, jazz, opera, or Broadway musicals, my work and research are often completed to musical accompaniment. While painting, a tune constantly plays in the back of my mind and provides a subliminal direction. During the spring of 2016, I constantly found myself listening to one particular song from the Broadway musical “Little Women.” It was the lyrics sung by the character of Jo that seemed to give me the courage to return to work everyday, facing an ever-increasing stack of obstacles piled against my future. Every morning, I would listed to:

“There’s a life that I am meant to lead
A life like nothing I have known
I can feel it, and it’s far from here
I’ve got to find it on my own”

Although my position was being eliminated at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center, my work for the Fraternity was not ending. Regardless of where I was working, my studies continued to track down the origins of designs for degree productions and the men who painted the drops. I just needed to plan my next attack in regards to my continued research.

This passion had guided my entire career since 1989 and it was once again pulling me to the romance in the southwestern United States. Little did I know at the time that it was just the beginning of an incredible journey – one that would circle back to the Fort Scott scenery collection and the artistic career of Thomas Moses. It would eventually tie up many loose ends that I had started tracking down in 1989.

I desperately needed to visit Santa Fe again after the continued drama at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center; for me, the entire endeavor was an antithesis of Masonic philosophy. My husband and I once again found peace in the brilliant landscape and smells of sage in the southwest. In the evenings, we enjoyed performances at the Santa Fe Opera and continued our friendship with many in the area.

I first fell in love with Santa Fe during 2002 when I started the scenery restoration at the Scottish Rite. For two summers we lived in the Scottish Rite dormitories with our daughter, then a young child. I felt utterly at home in this region and began to plan our eventual retirement there.

There was also a business reason to return to Santa Fe that summer of 2016 as I was one of three contributors for an upcoming publication on the Santa Fe Scottish Rite. My essay specifically concerned the 1912 painted scenery collection created by Sosman & Landis Studio of Chicago. The scenery production at that time was under the supervision of Thomas Gibbs Moses who would soon be cast in the role of studio president. Later, he would paint the Fort Scott scenery on location by 1924, the year before he became a Mason himself in Pasadena, California. Moses had found peace in California, I found peace in New Mexico – especially near Taos.

During our visit, I finalized some of the full-color plates and figures that would accompany my chapter on the scenery, specifically working with our professional photographer Jo Whaley. Jo and I instantly recognized each other as kindred spirits and became fast friends, she having a background as a scenic artist in California. Now she was an internationally recognized photographer.

One of the images that we desperately wanted to capture for the book was a scenic effect from the fifteenth degree’s treasure chamber. Luckily, my husband stepped in as out first Scottish Rite model so that we would have something to reference when pitching our idea to the publisher.

Jo and I had wanted to do something similar when I planned my trip to Fort Scott for the scenery removal, but there had simply not been enough time for a full photo shoot. I wanted to closely document the removal and transportation of the Fort Scott collection, as well as its restoration and installation at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center; possibly resulting in a later catalogue to preserve the story for future generations. It ended up that I was the sole individual to document the Fort Scott project, inadequate lighting and all.

I recalled seeing the delight on the faces of my rigging crew as they assembled a variety of scenic illusions common to many Masonic degree productions, while at the Fort Scot Scottish Rite. This was a common occurrence when individuals witnessed this particular type of pictorial illusion for the stage. Even seasoned stagehands could not contain their excitement when viewing nineteenth-century stage effects. The magic was infectious; I wanted to capture these moments and preserve them in a book for the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center. Although it would no longer highlight the Fort Scott scenery, I now had another chance with the 1912 scenery in Santa Fe. Although this collection didn’t have the artistic provenance of a single artist, it was unique for a variety of other reasons – primarily being created during the first spike in scenery production by Sosman & Landis for the Southern Jurisdiction.

For the Santa Fe Scottish Rite book, Jo and I decided that we wanted to document all degree productions as initially intended in 1912; not as a contemporary representations of any current ceremonials used by Masons. We wanted to capture brief moments depicting what a Mason would have witnessed during an early-twentieth century Scottish Rite Reunion, complete with costumed participants, set pieces and hand props; planning a weeklong photo session during October 2016. This was something that I could now do as I was unemployed. The disappointment and devastation that I had encountered as Curatorial Director started to transform into relief. I was continuing on the journey that I had first started when I processed the Scottish Rite designs in the Great Western Stage Equipment Company found the Performing Arts Archives in 1989.

“I’ll find my way, I’ll find it far away.
I’ll find it in the unexpected and unknown.
I’ll find my life in my own way, today.
Here I go, and there’s no turning back
My great adventure has begun.”

To be continued…

Fools Give You Reasons, Wise Men Never Try

There is something horrible about Shingles, but there is something even worse about lying in misery and contemplating unemployment after working your tail off for the past two years. We had purchased a second home to get closer to my job, not having had the option to take the time off and completely move; I was faced with an endless parade of deadlines at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center.

I had never been let go from any position before and my husband and I were worried about making two house payments, our oldest child in college, and no longer having my own business. I would re-enter the work place with nothing, not even a list of my accomplishments for the past two years as my name was being systematically erased from all of my contributions other than the lodge room painting.

On July 7, 2016, at 10:00AM, I walked into the CEO’s office for my scheduled meeting. He was sitting behind his desk with the head of Human Resources sitting across from him, notebook in one hand and pen in the other.

With his hands folded, the CEO gestured for me to sit. He smiled and said, “Well, I never like to draw these things out. I’m letting you go.”

“Why?” I asked. “Does it matter?” he responded.

“Well, I would like to have a reason,” I insisted, “as people will ask why I am no longer working here and I would like to be able to give them the reason.”

The CEO chuckled, “It really doesn’t matter, I simply eliminating your position.”

“What explanation can I give people when they ask why I am no longer the Curatorial Director at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center?”

“Just tell them that we don’t need any of the skills that you have to offer anymore.”

I was shocked at his rationale. “In your time of need,” I continued, “I dropped everything to help the Freemasons of Minnesota during the planning and construction of this entire building – subsequently closing my business.”

“Well no one told you to do that!” he interjected.

“I was devoting every minute that I had to this project and simply couldn’t accept any other business, even postponing existing contracts indefinitely. Furthermore, you offered me a staff position, not a temporary role until the center opened. I moved to the cities to help the Freemasons of Minnesota in their time of need. It is only fair that they help me get back on my feet now.” We agreed to the terms and conditions of my termination.

The following week, I received my official letter eliminating my position, solely signed by the CEO; it did not include any of termination conditions we discussed. I shouted to my husband in the other room,” You won’t believe this! He couldn’t even be honest about letting me go!”

My husband frowned while reading the letter and then said, “But he can’t do that!”

“Well, apparently he can,” I answered. My only option was to leave with my head high, not make a ruckus, and try to forget what had turned into a nightmare job. Something would come up; it always does. However, I might need a break from the Fraternity, especially Freemasonry in Minnesota.

To be continued…

A Final Visit to Scenery Storage

On Monday, June 27, 2016, I visited the Fort Scott scenery storage unit in Bloomington, Minnesota. Little did I know at the time, but this would be the last moment that I would see the collection until after it was hanging in the Ives Auditorium. The restoration start date was currently on hold, waiting for some final construction delays in the theatre space.

After the Grand Opening, my new task was to take stock of the rolled scenery tubes and battens, verifying where the Ready Labor crew had placed them during November 2015. I would create a document noting the placement of each tube and the batten locations for future reference. My mural painting assistant was there to help shift any scenery due to my back injury. We stopped by the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center for her to run in and get the keys from the general director, as he had forgotten to pass along the three storage unit keys at the opening.

While visiting the storage unit that Monday, I noticed an extremely sore area on my upper shoulder; this was in addition to a swollen eyelid and low-grade fever that had instantaneously appeared the day before. I felt absolutely miserable while opening up the doors at the storage unit.  Upon inspecting the tubes, we noted Asian spotted beetles throughout the space, little dots of black piled up in corners and scattered across the muslin covers. This was not a good sign.

About the time that we noticed the bugs, a fellow scenic artist stopped by. She was visiting the Twin Cities, but had been unable to attend the grand opening. I suggested that she stop by the storage unit while I was working. I wanted her to meet my painting assistant and see the entirety of the Fort Scott collection, neatly tucked away into my custom-designed storage system.

As my shoulder pain continued to worsen, I asked my friend to see if had she noticed a bug bite or sting mark. “I would have a doctor look at this soon,” she suggested, “it looks pretty bad.” I agreed with her, saying, “We can always finish this later as the restoration start date isn’t even scheduled yet,” and sent them both on their way.

I was diagnosed with Shingles. Finally my stress had manifested into a physical condition; I was a prime candidate and the doctor pointed that out. “You have got to slow down,” she said, “Just go home and take some time off from work. I know that this prescription is often given to those over 50, but we might have caught it early enough for it to really work on you. ” I was flabbergasted with her diagnosis and picked up my prescription. “Really!?!” I told my husband, “On top of everything else, I need to get Shingles now?”

The final series of betrayals I experienced at the grand opening of the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center had crushed my last my spirit and any hope that it would be a world-class research facility. It also suppressed any lingering enthusiasm for to work for the CEO or on the Fort Scott restoration project. I honestly knew that it was just a matter of time before I was let go and would never touch Thomas Moses’ paintings again; the future of the scenery collection was no longer in my hands.

The next day, I cancelled my afternoon appointment with the CEO emailing, “I will not be in today due to illness. Yesterday, I developed a fever and rash on my right eyelid and right shoulder. Today, I was diagnosed with Shingles and placed on a prescription for Acyclovir. I have scheduled a follow-up appointment for this Thursday afternoon as [my doctor] was concerned with the possible complications for my vision. I will keep you posted regarding my recovery and return to work.”

Two days later on June 30 at 8:35AM, the CEO responded to my email, inquiring about a possible date for a future meeting, “I hope you are recovering from your bout with shingles. I would like to meet with you in my office on Thursday, July 7 at 10 am.  Will you be able to meet at that time?”

To be continued…

It’s the CEO’s Way or the Highway

 There were two different ways to restore the Fort Scott scenery collection: My Way and the CEO’s Way.

My way divided the entire scenery restoration into phases, creating a training ground for young artisans while simultaneously restoring the historical scenery and preserving it for future generations. I estimated that it would take two years to restore the entire collection onsite, using this opportunity as both public relations for Minnesota Freemasonry and an international destination for restoration training.

As previously noted, I was adamant that the scenery be restored onsite and immediately hung as the condition of restored scenery deteriorates if excessively handled after cleaning, stabilization and repair; this is why I insist on onsite restoration projects and not restoring scenery in the convenience of my own Minnesota Studio. Transporting restored scenery harms the painted surface, creating wrinkles and other apparent damage to the stabilized areas. Furthermore, once the painting is restored, the original top wooden battens are installed, the drop hung, and then the bottom battens are attached. The bottom battens are attached last, after the drop is hanging, to pull out any remaining wrinkles and make the drop appear as if it were brand new.

The CEO’s way to restore the Fort Scott scenery collection was to move the drops from the Bloomington storage facility to a warehouse offsite, restore numerous scenes, transport them to the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center and quickly hang as many as possible. Additionally, he was adamant that attaching wooden battens was too time-consuming and an alternative should be found for the installation.

My experience of restoring over five hundred scenes demonstrated that there were no short cuts during a restoration project. Restoration on the cheap and quickly done, results in the destruction of entire collections. He would have to locate a group of individuals to hang the historic scenery “his way” as I refused to compromise the artworks of Thomas Gibbs Moses.

Enter the museum team of Mia Schillace-Nelson (Outhouse Exhibit Services Founder), Paul Nelson (Outhouse Exhibit Services Construction Lead) and their freelance exhibit artist “Kimber” Lawler.  I first encountered Lawler in the early 1990s. Our paths haven’t crossed at all in the past two decades as my primary focus is historical scenery, restoration, and replication; hers is not.

She was working for Outhouse Exhibit services on the Ladd Museum exhibit at the same time I was working on the lodge room painting. Schillace-Nelson had brought Lawler over one day in late-April to say “hi” under the pretext of an opportunity for us to reconnect after two decades. At the time, they were both were extremely interested in my background of restoring Scottish Rite scenery. They inquired after the techniques that I had developed throughout the course of my career.

As usual, I was delighted to share information about the materials and the various techniques. I love describing the restoration process as many individuals are unfamiliar with the dry pigment paint system, archival cleaning products, and the restoration variables.

Remember, by this point, I had estimated the materials and labor expenses for the entire Fort Scott scenery restoration, emailed lists of supplies for the general director to order, and identified the entire crew – one that was still on hold and waiting for a definitive start date.

When they asked how I restored the scenery, I wish that they had taken notes for the sake of the Fort Scott collection.

To be continued…