Month: August 2017

In 1878, Thomas G. Moses and Ella Robbins were inseparable as they made plans for a fall wedding. Moses wrote that they spent all of their spare time together planning for the future. He continued to work as a scenic artist, starting the year with an advertising drop that led to some scenery for a “barn storming company.” Soon he was employed to decorate Sterling’s Academy of Music and paint all of the scenery.

During this time, his father actively worked against him to discourage clients from hiring him, especially the owner of the Academy of Music. His father even explained to the owner of the venue, Mr. Tracy, that Moses was “too young for such a big job.” Fortunately, Tracy responded that he had “full confidence” in his ability to do the work. In the end, Moses worked all summer at the Academy in addition to completing a small number of other painting projects.

It is one thing to disapprove of a child’s career course, but another entirely to try and undermine it. After having read the thoughtful and loving notes sent to Moses by his father after first moving to Chicago, I was confused. What had happened? Initially, he had the support from his family, receiving the trunk of clothes and his first diary. This goodwill seemed to have vanquished. Moses’ typed manuscript paints an entirely different picture of his father from the few handwritten notes contained at the Harry Ransom Center. Could it the increased hostilities between Moses and his family a result of his stepmother? Moses recalled when she first arrived, writing, “We figured a new Mother would not be so cross. When she arrived with the girls, and gave us a “once over,” I felt in my bones that we had got in a cinch.” Later he added, “When the new Mother took charge of affairs, there were many radical changes made. Many of them made my young life a burden, and had a strong influence on my whole life, and also kept my nose to the grindstone.” This situation would be made worse after viewing his birth mother’s sketchbook. He had lost a fellow artist before he even realized that he would become one himself. Despite any ill feelings, Moses returned to Sterling in 1878 and attempted to carve out a career as an artist in this small town.

That summer, Ella moved into town from Robbins Range, accepting work as a dressmaker with Mrs. Wilson. Meanwhile, Moses boarded at the family home of his good friend Will Tuller, eventually moving later to the Galt House after extending relations of the Tullers decided to visit.

Of this period, Moses wrote, “Ella and I spent all the spare time we had planning for the future. We had our little home all spoken for and a list made up for the furnishing. Those were indeed happy days. After all we had both gone through, for Ella had a hard time on the farm – nearly five years of hard work, cooking for a bunch of “hobos” that was composed of a dozen farm hands, if not more. We agreed to start housekeeping very quietly and not try to make a splurge. Mrs. Robbins assisted as much as she could. Our little cottage had plenty of ground to stand on an all kinds of fruit. We had everything that was necessary to make us comfortable and happy.”

The couple was married on Thursday, October 31^st, 1878. Moses recalled the ceremony, writing, “I left town about noon, arrived at Robbins Range at 3 o’clock. We were married at 4 o’clock. After a fine dinner we left for town and our little home. We found a nice warm fire to welcome us. Everyone seemed pleased, except my Father.” After the wedding Moses had very little scenery to paint, but his work at the Academy put him “on the list.” He wrote, “Father heard so much praise of my work that he finally weakened and we called the old score off and ‘we lived happily ever after.’”

They managed to meet their expenses the first year of marriage, but it was a “hand to mouth existence.” During the spring of 1879 Moses secured painting work to decorate a church in Tampico, Illinois. He intensely disliked working for churches. His feelings did not stem from the artistic compositions or the denomination’s theological stance. It was the people. Moses wrote, “My experience with Church Committees, of all denominations, was such that I almost promised myself never to enter another Church. I found a lot of dishonest men that were pillars of the church and naturally I looked upon them as good Christians, and their word should have been as good as their bond.”

To be continued…

Moses wrote, “My exile was slipping along and I looked forward to this time of going back to Sterling. Father was still looking for me and Ella and Frank kept me posted on the current events at Sterling and on the farm Robbins Range.” By August Moses decided that it was time for him to return home to Sterling as he was now twenty-one years of age and had been gone for over two years. On September 28, he began his return trip home at 11:00AM, departing Jackson, Michigan and arriving the next day in Sterling at 6:00PM. Upon his arrival, he went to see an old family friend, Mr. Hempsted [Howland] who owned the livery stable.

He rented the best rig and started toward Robbins Rang to call on his “best girl” Ella. Although he was ashamed of his appearance, he was glad to get back. He wrote, “The next morning I managed to change my appearance. I borrowed a clean linen and got a shave and a shine – a good brush up. All I had in the world, I had on.”

He then went to visit his own family and the reception was not quite as warm as it had been at Robbins Range. Frank was the only one pleased to see him and Moses recalled, “My new Mother and sister stood like stone images and gaped at me and said nothing. Father told me quickly there was no home for me at that particular house. I informed him that was nothing new since my Mother’s death; I never had a home. I was told to get out, quick! And never some back. I went out and never went back.”

His new home was now Robbins Range and on his return to the farm, he found the old house paint just where he left it two years prior after applying one coat to the house. He got some more lead and oil to finish the job. He and Ella attended Church despite his limited wardrobe, writing, “She was not ashamed of me; quite a number of my old friends were glad to see me. I would yet make a good return to Sterling and the people would honor me. I owed that much to Ella.” He and then secured several small jobs in Sterling, but soon realized that it would take more time and money than he had to start any kind of shop there. He wrote, “So I went East again, broke as usual.” Arriving in Michigan City, Moses sought out a scenic artist working in the Turner Hall, but the man wouldn’t help him out and he ended up sleeping in the depot that night. Reflecting on this particular time of despair, Moses wrote, “All the next day I waited, looking for work – nothing in sight – nothing to eat. I was too proud to beg – too honest to steal, so I went hungry. I thought it a pretty cold world. About 5 o’clock my friend’s train pulled in. “Hello, Tom, what are you doing here? Have you had your supper?” “No” “Come and have something with me.” When I sat down to the table the sight of food unnerved me and I broke down and cried.”

After a fine meal with his friend, they left on the train bound for Jackson, Michigan. They sat in a little cupola of the caboose, smoking good cigars under bright moonlight and Moses’ troubles were soon forgotten. Upon arriving in Jackson, he was handed a telegram from his friend George Stevenson. There was a residential decorating job waiting for Moses in Grand Rapids, in the fine home of Banker Gilbert. Stevenson staked him a ticket and a little pocket money. Moses was soon at work and earning a good salary. He now had enough money to “get some good clothes.” More clothes than he could wear at one time, necessitating him to buy a suitcase and a good overcoat. Dressed in his best, Moses returned to Sterling and Ella.

To be continued…

In 1877 John H. Young and Thomas G. Moses headed to Detroit. They received word from their previous employer Wardus about a large church project. I was surprised to read this entry as Wardus skipped town with their money after a previous church job, owning a substantial amount to Moses, Young and Tom Brown. Brown returned to New York, but Moses and Young remained unemployed in Jackson, Michigan. It is understandable that they would agree to meet Wardus in Detroit, as it might be have been the only way to ever recover their lost wages. Unfortunately Wardus wasn’t there when they arrived at the designated hotel. He had left a note explaining that he was traveling with his family to Rochester and would return in a few days. The two boys waited for an entire week to no avail. Moses wrote, “we were broke; had to borrow money from a priest that we knew to get us back to Jackson where we arrived safely and very much wiser.”

Moses sought employment with George W. Stevenson again, the manager of the “Two Theatre” and “City Bill Poster.” After Stevenson suffered a $1600 loss of all his scenery and mechanical effects in a fire, the author of this military drama decided to stage a new version. Moses was hired to create scenery for the production “The Drummer Boy of the Rappahannock,” advertised as “the best military drama in the business.” The painted scenes for this production included views of Fort Sumpter, Charleston Harbor, Fredericksburg, the interior of Libby Prison, the Camp at Falmouth, Camp of the 13^th Massachusetts, Pontoon bridges, and boats crossing the Rappahannock. Various newspaper articles described magnificent cloud scenes and tableaux.

The production was advertised as a drama “of the same characteristic as the ‘Union Spry’ and would be given under the auspices and for the benefit of the Detroit Life Infantry. Stevenson appeared as the leading character, Harry Harpre, the Scout. Advertisements noted that “the play abounds in intensely dramatic incidents and military tableaux, and there is enough of the patriotic element and of rollicking humor to keep up interest throughout the entire five acts” (Detroit Free Press 1889 11 Jan 1880, page 8). The scenic effects included “the bombardment of Fort Sumpter, the charge on Fredericksburg, the crossing of the river on pontoons, the escape from the horrors of Libby prison, the return of Col. Freeman’s regiment and the grand dénouement. Capt. Dupont and the light infantry will appear in the bayonet drill, for which this company has already been celebrated.”

While working on a few decorating projects for Stevenson, Moses had the opportunity to make acquaintance with of “the better class of young people” and went out a good deal with them. By that summer, painting work for Moses began to wane and he advertised as an art instructor.

Recalling his first studio in Grass Lake in 1931, he wrote, “I opened a ‘School of Painting.” I can still see my little tin sign swinging in the breeze. Some nerve! Say I. I soon had a class of fourteen – mostly girls. They came from farms and villages. I was teaching something that I knew very little about and I got away with the bluff, and made good. Everyone was satisfied and I earned four dollars a day. I was entertained and invited to all the best homes. I was a real artist for a while and lived among real people.”

To be continued…

 

 

While researching scenic artists who worked with Thomas G. Moses, John H. Young kept reappearing in many documents. One of the best articles that I came across was a loose piece of paper from the John R. Rothgeb Papers at the Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas, Austin. It was a photocopied page of an article without any citation titled, “How Scene Painting is Done in a Big Studio, John H Young Goes About His Work in Systematic Fashion and Gives Public an Idea of How His Difficult Work is Performed.” There was no date or source to credit to this article. I have searched in vain, trying to track it down.

However, this is not a document that should be lost. It signifies a well-known designer and artist who got his start with Thomas G. Moses. Here is the article in its entirely as it is a treasure trove of information:

“No scenic artist in this country enjoys a higher reputation than John H. Young of the Broadway Theatre. Hardly a play of any moment which has been produced in the metropolis has been written without evidences of his careful and skillful touch, and for the road attractions they bristle with the touches of his brush.

But Mr. Young’s position in his special line has not been reached without long and conscientious work dating back nearly a score of years. Born in the early 60s, Mr. Young soon gave signs of his artistic bent by turning his back upon the allurements of Michigan farming, and he was barely out of his teens before he was turning out pictures, which, though the evinced talent, were lacking in that technique which can only come from study and practice. About this time Mr. Young had the good fortune to come in contact with Thomas Moses, the veteran scenic artist of the West, and the latter was quick to see signs of talent in his young protégé.”

For several years Mr. Young worked in concert with his instructor and the scenes that he painted caused so wide comment, that in time he came to New York, where he could find a better field for his abilities. New York managers were quick to appreciate his efforts and thus came about that the subject of this sketch was installed as chief artist at the Broadway, which position he has held for more than seven years.

The average manager, when he has selected a play, has but seldom anything more than the vaguest idea of what he wants in the way of scenery to enhance it. It is just here that Mr. Young steps in a rescues the befuddled manager from the slough of theatrical despondence. He gets the main incidents of the author’s story and suggests the possibilities of scenic illustration. Oftentimes the manager who is to produce the play has ideas of the most impractical nature and Mr. Young shows him a hasty sketch of the utter folly of attempting to reproduce them. Provided Mr. Young and the manager come to an agreement, the decided-upon scenes are first done in watercolors, and these, when finished are subjected to another inspection by both artist and manager. Changes are suggested here and there, and sometimes even, the whole work is gone over, when it is found advisable. When the preliminary sketch is satisfactory, the next step is to transform into a miniature set scene, which duplicates down to the most trifling detail, the contemplates larger on for the actual performance. For this performance Mr. Young has in his studio, a small stage fitted with all the appurtenances which belong to the most complex of the regular stages; there are trap doors, wings, fly-galleries, a drop curtain, electric light, and a maze of small cords and fixtures for managing the whole.

If it be a mill scene, for instance, that is being arranged, the duplicate in miniature must have the revolving wheel, the running water, the sluice-box, and nothing whatever must be lacking. Very often when all is completed and in place on this trial stage, something of an impractical nature may be discovered and remedied, before the expense of the larger model is incurred. Theoretically many wonderful stage scenes may be all right, but the little trial stage prevents all failures and fiascos so far as the mere scenery is concerned. Of course, after this point is reached – the test on the trial stage – nothing remains but the putting of the scenes into the proper shape for the public. Time is the principal factor in this, and the more scenes and the more full of mechanical contrivance they are the longer it takes, Mr. Young has been most fortunate in overcoming the difficulties which put the mere spectacular plays beyond the abilities of many scenic artists. In “Under the Poplar Star,” for nicety of construction and naturalness of action, Mr. Young’s iceberg scene has seldom been equaled, and in all of his work there is the same evidence of thorough art, combined with a broad grasp of mechanical detail.

To the layman, scenic painting is somewhat of a mystery, and if he gives any thought to it at all it is doubtful if he realizes the high order of artistic ability which one must possess in order to faithfully deploy upon mammoth stage canvases the scenes which reflect the spirit of the play. Not only has one got to be an artist to begin with, but he must be a perfect jack-at-all trades in order to transfer his preliminary small sketch to a back drop measuring sometimes more than 100×40 feet; in the main, the small pattern picture is ruled off into squares, each of which is consecutively numbered. Similar squares, but on a much larger scale are then drawn upon the great canvas and the sketch is then “blocked in” square for square and number by number. As long as four months is needed on some of the more pretentious scenes, though about six weeks is the average for an ordinary scene. To enumerate the plays for which Mr. Young has painted scenes is no easy task, but among them may be mentioned, “The Highwayman,”

“On the Bowery,” “Power of the Press,” “In Old Kentucky,” “Cumberland ’61,” “The Player,” “Pousee Café,” “Woman in Black,” “Under the City Lamps,” “Le Voyage de Susette,” “The Diamond Breaker,” “Monongahela,” “Trip to the Moon,” “Naval Cadet,” “Roaring Dick,” “La Falotte,” “Fallen Among Thieves,” “Polar Star,” “For the Crown,” “Lion Tamer,” “Across the Potomac,” “Power of Gold,” “Wang,” “Hamlet,” “Sidewalks of New York,” In addition, Mr. Young has painted many of the best drop curtains in the country, and as a water color artist he stands in the foremost rank. Nearly every exhibition of note is contributed to by him, and his work command a high price among discriminating purchasers.”

To be continued…

The Centennial Year of 1876 found Thomas G. Moses busy with work. By the spring he was known as a decorator of fine homes. In July he had even received the contract to do the decoration on Pearl Street’s big arch. While completing this project, Moses met a Frenchman named Wardus who was decorating St. James Catholic Church and desperately needed and artist. Moses went to work for him, taking charge of the whole job. They painted the Stations of the Cross, the Christian Martyrs and the Apostles, all painted on canvas and then mounted on the walls.

Moses realized that he really needed a good figure painter for the scenes. They advertised in both the Grand Rapids papers and New York Herald. After receiving numerous responses, they first selected Tom Brown, an Englishman from New York. He was hired as they liked the samples of his work. Brown needed an assistant, so they secured some local talent, a young man by the name of John H. Young. Moses wrote, “We three, the same age, roomed and chummed together and we had a fine time. And, as I remember, we did some pretty good work. At any rate, this job secured another big church at Jackson, Michigan. Around Christmas found us in that railroad town, busy as bees.” Wardus began marketing the three painters as the “Three young Roman Artists.” Moses noted, “We didn’t look it – we were all quartered at a cheap hotel and we met a great many young people.”

It was nearly a year later before they completed the church project. Unfortunately, Wardus decided to skip town two days before they realized it. Moses recalled his “leaving us three without a dollar, owing us several weeks salary.” I was always intrigued with Moses’ initial meeting with John H. Young as they sporadically worked together over the years. Young’s destiny, however, was designing and painting for Broadway.

John Hendricks Young was born in Grand Rapids, Michigan in 1858 and began his artistic career in fresco painting. His experience with scenic art and design began in 1880 and continued until his passing in 1944. In 1880, he married Kate Bacon of Flint, Michigan, daughter of the Washington A. Bacon. At first they lived on West Montcalm Street in Detroit. Only a year later in 1881, Young filed for bankruptcy in the courts of Detroit, Michigan.

Moses and Young worked together again at Sosman and Landis beginning in 1882. During this time, they took many sketching trips that often included two other artists Hardesty Maratta (mentioned yesterday) and Ed Morange (of Gates & Morange Studio). All travelled across the country from West Virginia to the Rocky Mountains, including Pike’s Peak, Denver, and Breckenridge.

Young and his wife moved to No. 464 Fourth Avenue during 1883 (Detroit Free Press, Dec. 16 1883, page 15). For the next two years, he would work between Detroit and New York. It was at this point that his career really began to soar. By 1894, Young was noted as “the ingenious and artistic scene painter” for “On the Bowery” by R. N. Stephens that premiered in Detroit at the Whitney Opera House. Young painted a beautiful rendition of the Brooklyn Bridge.

In 1895 Young designed and painted “Pawn Ticket 210” by David Belasco of the Broadway Theatre in New York where the artistic talents of Young were celebrated. The review was posted in the Detroit Free Press on April 9, page 5.

In 1896, Young designed and painted the “picturesque scenery” for Davis & Keogh’s production of Scott Marble’s new comedy “The Sidewalks of New York,” playing at the Lyceum Theatre in Detroit. It depicted “familiar localities, reproduced from photographs of the actual buildings and views by the hand of artist” (Detroit Free Press December 6, 1896, page 19). The article goes onto describe his contribution, “In the second act the New York Herald building is shown in accurate detail when enormous presses are at work, and the editorial staff is in active operation. The third act is laid in Brooklyn. This scene represents an old distillery and a shot tower by the East river.” Later newspaper reviews commented on Young’s “originality of conception and boldness, vigor, and expression of action in execution.”

Young eventually moved to New York where he became quite successful and always busy. There, he designed over 70 shows for Broadway, including some impressive original productions such as “Babes in Toyland” (1903), “Forty-five minutes from Broadway” (1906), “Little Nemo” (1908), “Higgledy-Piggledy” (1905), “Ziegfield Follies” (1907,1908, and 1913) “Broadway to Paris” (1912), “Robinson Crusoe, Jr.” (1907, 1908, 1916), and “Sinbad” (1919). His information can be found in the Internet Broadway database https://www.ibdb.com/

Early on in his New York career during 1897, Young, Harley Merry, Walter Burridge, Richard Marston, and Homer Emens produced the scenery for Margaret Mather’s production of “Cymbeline.”

An article in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle (Sept. 28, page 7) commented that the group was recognized as the foremost scene painters of their time. The artists are not mere grabbers after striking effects by cheap and easy means, and that in this instance they have presented a picture of the first century which is well worth seeing.” Meeting up again in 1900 Moses and Young designed and painted scenes for “Quo Vadis.” While working together in New York, Moses and Young continued their sketching trips, now adding Harry A. Vincent to their group.

It was in 1905 that Moses and Young worked on their last project together. They worked on old mill scenery (the tunnel of love ride) at Luna Park for Ed Thompson; Young did all the properties and papier-mâché work. Young isn’t mentioned again in Moses’ diaries until 1922 when he is reminiscing.

There is very little insight into what Young was like or his personality. The only small tidbit gleaned of Young’s life outside of the theater was his flower garden. Moses fondly commented on Young’s flower garden as “a hodgepodge mixture of growing things.” He remembers that as a joke, Young had bought a lot of seeds that had been accidentally mixed.

To be continued…

In December of 1875, Thomas G. Moses found himself “out of work and very little money on hand.” He finally secured a job as a train boy, commonly called a “Butcher.”

The only reference to the term “train boy” and “butcher” that I have encountered to date is in an 1884 issue of the “American machinist” where author Sam Rarus published an article titled “Some Small Explosions.” He wrote, “Our butcher (train boy) was one of these irrepressible youths who always pushed themselves to the front when anything unusual is going on, and he had got up beside me in the cab, and was reporting progress on the passengers.” Huh. Sounds like Moses at this point in his life.

Moses worked on the run from Grand Rapids, Michigan to St. Joseph. This was a new experience for Moses and he wrote, “I rather enjoyed it.” When traveling north, the train would stop at the small town of Bangor, Michigan. There, the owner of the lunchrooms exchanged free meals for Moses advising the passengers to go there. He even “peddled bills announcing the fact of ‘The best lunch room on the road.’” Moses recalled that he “must have been hungry and ate too much” as the gentlemen explained that he could no longer keep his agreement and that he would now have to purchase his meals like the rest of the train crew.

We get a little insight into Moses’ character when he explained his next course of action. He wrote, “The next day before leaving St. Joe, I laid in a stock of sandwiches, pies, doughnuts and a big coffee pot with tin cups and spoons, a small oil stove in the baggage room made the coffee. Within a half hour of Bangor, I had everyone on the train satisfied. Even the train crew. Instead of the usual two-dozen passengers getting off, there were three. When the owner of the lunchroom heard of it, he rushed to see me. There was no chance – I kept it up for a week. He paid me for working for him besides feeding me.”

Although Moses commented that he “had a great many exciting incident during my train boy experience,” it came time to return to the theater. His work on the train had left him well-traveled and well-fed, but his artistic soul was suffering. Working as a train boy was no different than any other service job that he could get near Sterling. He had promised Ella that he would return to marry her and in order to do that he needed to make a good living and a name for himself.

While waiting for one train to depart, he had extra time to stroll around town and found the stage door of the Powers Theatre. Moses wrote, “I went in and found an artist at work on the paint frame. I called up for permission to go up. I found that I knew the artist – He was from Chicago. He had an Odd Fellow Hall to decorate and needed help. I agreed to quit my job within a week and help him out. I did the thing I thought was best and Christmas found me very busy on all kinds of decoration.”

Power’s Opera House in Grand Rapids, Michigan opened on May 12, 1874. The Powers’ Opera House Block provided entertainment from 1874 until 1979 when it was demolished. Here is the timeline: Powers’ Opera House (1874), Powers’ Grand Opera House (1887), Powers’ Theatre (1902), Foto News (1944), Midtown Theatre (1948–1972), Civic Theatre (Under Renovation 1975–1977), Demolished (Jan 1979). The website: Powers Behind Grand Rapids is a lovely source of information and picture. Here is the link: https://powersbehindgr.wordpress.com/powers-theatre/

The planning and construction of this venue is of note. In 1873 construction began. The building was designed by architect Graham of Chicago and modeled after Hooley’s Opera House (Chicago). On May 12, 1874 the grand opening celebration included Edwin Booth’s niece, Blance DeBar of McVicker’s Theatrical Company (Chicago). Six years later in 1880, William T. Powers organized the Grand Rapids Electric Light & Power Company. Obviously, he installed electric lighting in his opera house. A massive renovation of the space occurred from April-August, 1883. The theatre floor was lowered to add a third balcony gallery designed by architect Col. James M. Wood of Chicago. By September 3, the 1883–84 Season commenced in Power’ New Opera House, now on the ground floor.

To be continued…

In 1875, Thomas G. Moses sought employment at the decorating firm of William Wright & Co. Arriving in Detroit he walked from the train depot to a theater construction site and inquired about a job. Mr. Wright put Moses to work on the spot as he had worked for this company before when work was slow at the P.M. Almini & Co in Chicago. The two decorating firms shared similar beginnings, although the founders began in different countries.

William Wright was born in the County of Norfolk, England, on November 12, 1833, and educated as a painter and decorator at Cambridge. Traveling to London in 1854 he completed his artistic studies and began his career as an interior decorator. In 1857 Wright immigrated to America in 1857, arriving in Detroit on the steamer, “City of Concord.” There, he opened up a shop and began advertising as a “painter, interior decorator and paperhanger.” He soon became associated with another decorating firm (Laible, Wright & Hopkins), accepting even larger commissions. This relationship lasted for five years until Wright purchased the second company, then adding William Reid as his partner. This was when he formed “William Wright & Company.”

William Wright & Co. was part of a vibrant art community in Detroit and also created a fine art gallery in 1868 that was free to all visitors. This was a similar to what Almini & Jevne offered in Chicago about the same time. The Detroit Free Press on Nov. 24, 1868 elaborated on the “Enterprising Business House” of William Wright & Co.

It advertised “a great many new paintings, chromos in oil and watercolors, and fine English engravings have been added, besides numerous articles in the way of ornamental and fancy goods, Swiss carved good, artists’ materials, etc. Similar to Jevne & Almini in Chicago, William Wright & Co. sold art materials to artists, displayed their fine art works, and employed many local artisans on decorative projects such as fresco painting.

William Wright also made stereoscopes upon an entirely new plan. The article described, “For large pictures but one lens is used, and one can look at pictures through it at the would gaze upon a natural landscape, without being obliged to squint or to place the glass in unpleasant proximity to the eye.”

Many of the fine mountain scenes viewed through this instrument included those secured by Wright in Europe. The newspaper article went on at length to discuss the “perfectness” of heights and proportions in these scenic elevations without any “feeling of weariness in looking for any length of time.”

The selling of stereoscopic views tied in beautifully with many of the painted murals and fresco completed by William Wright & Co. Many of their compositions were based on realistic and historical scenes for both residential and commercial spaces. In 1905 William Wright & Co. did both the decorative work and the entire interior design for the E. M. Harris & Co. cigar store located in the Elks’ Temple. The Detroit Free Press (Sept. 6, 1905, page 10) found the painted scenes from the Sigmund Rothschild tobacco plantations in Cuba “particularly noteworthy.”

The scenes were replicated from actual photographs. I thought back to the various reference sources and clippings saved by nineteenth and twentieth century artists for a variety of venues.

In 1874, the William Wright & Co. moved their offices to a new building on Lafayette, located on the same site where the old City Hotel once stood. Listed as “decorative artists” their company was situated on the second floor, near Lloyd & Pierce, architects. On the floor above were Conely & Hopkin, artists; Charles H. Ellis, civil engineer; and Madame S. Heirigel, teacher of music and languages. The Howard Dramatic Club occupied the fourth floor.

It was the following years that Moses sought employment at William Wright & Co. as they completed a large theatre project in Detroit. At this same time, C. J. Whitney opened an opulent theatre, spending $135,000 to build the Whitney Grand Opera House. I believe that this was the project Moses worked on for Wright – decorating the opera house. Whitney’s structure was known as the most elaborately equipped playhouse in Detroit at the time.

To be continued…

Thomas G. Moses briefly returned to his hometown of Sterling, Illinois at the age of nineteen. He found a few small halls and churches to decorate there, making enough to pay his board. Moses wrote in his diary, “I was looked upon at home as a failure and I was anxious to get away – a long way off so I could get into scenic painting.” He had left at odds with his father and Moses’ desire to become a scenic artist did not improve their relationship. Unfortunately work in Chicago was sporadic and Moses missed his sweetheart Susan “Ella” Robbins.

Ella repeatedly invited Moses to her family’s home for dinner that summer. They had met in school and shared the same birthdate, July 21, 1856. Moses recalled their first date in 1872, writing, “The first party we attended together compelled me to do some hustling in putting my clothes in shape, as about the only clothes I had were made from my Father’s cast-offs, which had done good service in the tannery. A paper collar and “dickey” over my flannel shirt, a piece of ribbon for a tie, a good coat of blacking on my heavy shoes and I was ready to shine in Society. I think Ella was awfully brave to go with me, especially when the other boys always dressed better than I.”

Moses was still smitten with Ella in 1875 as he walked the eleven miles to “Robbin Range,” a farm recently purchased by his Ella’s father. On his way there, Moses encountered Mr. Robbins on the road. He was heading to Sterling and asked Moses to stay for more than just dinner – a week in fact. Mr. Robbins wanted Moses to “use his talents” and paint their new home at Robbin Range!

It took a whole a whole week to complete the task, even though he only applied one coat of paint. “I visited as much as I painted,” wrote Moses. His father was not pleased with his son’s project. He insisted on Moses return to town and work in the tannery, or seek out any other contract work.

Moses soon made up my mind to borrow all of his brother Frank’s savings, which amounted to three dollars, to get some clean clothing and return to Robbins Range. He would soon leave town for the next two years and return once he was “of age” to marry Ella. One evening after dinner at Robbin Range, Moses and Ella went for a long walk in the full moonlight and pledged themselves to each other. Moses, wrote that it was “a heartbreaking farewell” when he eventually left on his walk back to Sterling. “As I stumbled along over the rough road, my heart in a vise, my mind nearly crazed – God only knew what was in store for me, I was completely heart-broken. I was on my way to somewhere and I would have to work it out.”

Instead of returning to Chicago, however, Moses headed to Detroit. There was a firm of decorators there, William Wright & Co., where he had previously worked during a slow spell at the P. M. Almini Co. Wright’s company advertised as “house, sign and fresco painters,” but they were so much more.

Moses purchased a ticket on the night train from Sterling to Detroit. Tucking the ticket safely in his hat, he was and lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the rails. Unfortunately, the hat dropped to the floor while he slept and the train ticket was lost. Moses was later awakened by the conductor, who was demanding his ticket. Of the experience Moses wrote, “My nerve carried me to Detroit, where we arrived early in the morning. I had thirty-five cents and a large appetite. Coffee and doughnuts for breakfast, bought a paper collar and started out.”

He found Mr. Wright on the site of a large theatre project and was hired on the spot, going to work before noon. In 1875, C. J. Whitney built the Whitney Grand Opera House in Detroit, an opulent theatre that cost over $135,000. One that would later be referred to as the “most elaborately equipped playhouse” in Detroit.

Borrowing a pair of overalls went immediately to work on the theatre decoration. At the close of the day he was worried about arranging for board without letting Mr. Wright know he was penniless. Luckily, he had shared his “hard luck story” with a young plaster working next to him that day. He took Moses to his boarding place and stood for his bill. As with many artists, the young man was also a fellow transient, traveling from town to town in search of any work.

Moses noted that within a few weeks he was back on “easy street.” Around this time he also heard from Ella, learning that his father had sent a constable to Robbins Range the day after his departure for Detroit. It was a narrow escape. Lucius was intent of returning his son home. Moses now assumed the name of “George Sampson” in all correspondence with to Ella and his brother Frank. Each kept him posted on the current events at Sterling and all activities at Robbins Range. Moses had no intention of returning anytime soon. He was working toward his plan for a future life with Ella.

To be continued…

As I was watching the recent remake of the “Gong Show,” I couldn’t help but think of Scottish Rite degree productions. Over the years, I have repeatedly come across gongs for Masonic stages. Gongs on stage, gongs off stage, gongs in the balcony, a gong switch on a lighting board, and a gong button on an organ console. They all made me chuckle. I now wish that I had a picture of every single sighting. It wasn’t until this spring when I was at the Moline Scottish Rite that I finally decided to take a picture of a beautiful gong in the auditorium balcony. It was positioned near the organ.

What has tickled my funny bone every time is thinking about the fraternal version of the Gong Show.  A gong signaled failure or a poor performance. For me, a gong doesn’t conjure up the exotic or a magical moment. Sadly, I am an unfortunate product of the television age. Thousands of years significance in a gong destroyed by one TV show. This is similar to my Pavlovian response to certain classical songs and operas where Bugs Bunny or another Looney Tunes character pops into my mind. The “Bunny of Seville” is one example.

In fraternal theaters, I always envision the sound of a gong and then an imaginary hook reaching from the wings toward another amateur actor who utterly failed in his performance. The neon sign at the Santa Fe Scottish Rite that signals “Louder Slower” to the degree performers supports this scenario.

Gongs have been around since 2000 BC, though many historians think that they have been around for far longer. Mystical traditions grew up around the glorious bass notes of gongs in the eastern world. The gong was slow to gain popularity in Europe and its first recorded use in western orchestral music was by Gossec in his funeral March for Mirabeau in 1791. Its use increased on the stage during the early nineteenth century. Many sought out the exotic instrument and gongs appeared in a variety of stage productions and in the music rooms of private residences. As with visual spectacle, that rolling sound transported generations of Masons to the foreign lands of degree productions.

But it wasn’t until I recently read the “Naiad Queen” script that I started to think about the significance of this particular sound, especially how it’s meaning has altered for some individuals in recent decades like myself. During the nineteenth century, a gong signaled the transformation scene. It announced a magical, or significant, moment on the stage, not just an exotic character. After the gong strikes twelve in “The Black Crook,” Hertzog is thrown into a flaming pit surrounded by howling and dancing demons.

It was the idea of a gong signaling a transition, or a transformation on stage, however, that really stuck in my mind. In “Trial by Jury,” Gilbert specified a gong to be struck, signaling the work’s concluding of a transformation scene parody. Carolyn Williams in “Gilbert Sullivan: Gender, Genre, and Parody” suggests that the allusion was a familiar one to audiences in 1875. This was the same time that degree productions started to gain popularity throughout the Northern Masonic Jurisdiction.

I thought back to the script for the three-act opera version of “The Naiad Queen; or the Revolt of the Naiads, a Romantic Operatic Spectacle in Three Acts” written by J. S. Dalrymple, Esq. Here is the link: babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.$b249955;view=1up;seq=34  The script notes the use of a gong to signal a transformation scene. The production was first performed at the Adelphi Theatre in London, with the American premiere at Burton’s Theatre (Philadelphia) during 1840. I was fascinated with the stage description.

The gong is sounded during the fifth scene of the third act. The setting opens to “A Romantic View of the Rhine” with two processionals entering the stage to form a tableau. The first processional was the Demon March. Amphibeo and demons of the Rhine march onstage, complete with conch shells and banners. The music then changes for the entrance of another processional. The Naiad Queen and Amazon warriors appear in full armor to complete the picture. Here is the stage direction after the tableau is set: “Music. Gong. The scene changes magically to fountains of real water; Naiads and Water Spirits mingle above and around, and the ethereal blue, emitted through a strong light, is thrown upon the picture.” Once again, I wished that I could travel through time to witness this spectacle in person. These extravaganzas of visual delight transported audiences to exotic and magical worlds. For many, a theatrical metamorphosis on stage seemed to defy reality.

Degree productions also incorporated the gong into their staging, once again emulating an effect popularized on the commercial stage. It was just one more example of how Masonic theatres remain living time capsules. Scottish Rite Freemasons are more than just caretakers of painted scenery collections, old costumes, ancient lighting systems and worn stage properties. They are stewards of theatre history and long-forgotten stage effects, all part of a shared cultural heritage.

Tableaux and transformation scenes appear in many Scottish Rite degree productions, but one always stands out in my mind. That is the transformation scene for the 17^th degree. The stage setting includes a volcanic eruption, flowing rivers of lava, and classical buildings that collapse on stage. In this scene there is the breaking of the seven seals with gong sounding each one.

To be continued…

Thomas G. Moses wrote that he “worked for a while on the “Naiad Queen” scenery under the celebrated Robert Hopkins, a friend of Malmsha’s” in 1875. This was only a year after beginning his career in scenic art. Within that first year Moses had both worked as Malmsha’s assistant, but also under the direction of Hopkins. Hopkins was later noted as the scenic artist who produced the full set of scenery at the Detroit Opera House, according to Harry Miner’s American Dramatic Directory for the 1882-1883.

“The Naiad Queen” was advertised as the “legendary ballet spectacle performed in four acts.” at Wood’s Theatre in Cincinnati, Ohio.

A series of advertisement appeared in the Cincinnati Enquirer and Cincinnati Daily Star throughout that fall, promoting this production at a venue, then managed by Barney Macauley.

Macauley was a former artist who once traveled throughout the country with Lou Malmsha. Macauley became manager at Wood’s Theatre when Malmsha left life on the road and returned to Chicago in 1871. Bad timing on Malmsha’s part as much of the city soon burned to the ground. Immediately after the great Chicago fire, Malmsha returned to Cincinnati and sought employment at Wood’s Theatre until 1874. Barney Macauley’s company was now performing at Wood’s Theatre.

In 1875 Wood’s Theatre was standing on same patch of ground once vacated by the old People’s Theatre. After being destroyed by fire in 1865, a new home for Wood’s was built at the corner of Sixth and Vine. The scenery production of the “Naiad Queen” was advertised as having “dazzling scenery, superb costumes, illusions, mechanical changes, calcium light, appointments and effects.” The Cincinnati Daily Star published that the show was performed in “the same style as the ‘Black Crook’” with over 100 artists engaged in the spectacle. Furthermore, it included no less than twenty tableaux! As elsewhere, Cincinnati audiences loved the spectacle and the show ended up running an extra week at Wood’s Theatre.

An article on September 27, advertised that “New scenery, new properties, and new costumes have been especially prepared for the two weeks of ‘The Naiad Queen.’” Two days later, a review stated “The scenery by Malmsha is beautiful; the one scene ‘Statuestic Hall,’ would be enough to establish a lasting reputation for any artist in the country.” Malmsha had included both Robert Hawkins and Thomas Moses in the painting of the this production and was known well-enough to be listed as simple “Malmsha.” A valued assistant, Malmsha thought enough of Moses to include him in the production of this amazing scenery. At the age of nineteen, Moses was already participating in an extremely popular high-quality production. Like Malmsha’ own rapid rise to fame, Moses was already on his way to the top.

The production of “The Naiad Queen” included a variety of spectacular scenes. Some depicted fancy interiors in a castle that were complete with gothic halls and banquet rooms. Their windows revealed stunning moonlight scenes and other scenic effects. Exterior scenes included rocky shores with mountainous views and mystic seascapes. Other settings portrayed hidden grottos and secret chambers with strange hieroglyphic symbols and sea monsters.  The plot had many possibilities to highlight the abilities of scenic artists as they created spectacle for the stage.

“The Naiad Queen” provided a wonderful opportunity to hone the skills of a young artist. Moses was painting some of the same subjects that he would continue to paint for almost six more decades, many of them for Masonic theaters.

To be continued…