Part 368: The Machinery of the Grand Opera, 1897 (first section)
A few months back, I stumbled across an 1897 article, “The Machinery of the Grand Opera” by E. F. Keller. It provides a little more context for life and times of Thomas G. Moses during 1897-1898. This article is also is a good follow-up to “How Scenery is Made,” as Jos. A. Physioc worked at the Metropolitan Opera during the beginning of his career. This is the first of three posts:
“The great throngs of diamond-bedecked women and dress-coated men who gather from night to night in the enormous auditorium of the Metropolitan Opera House have little realization of the machinery, by which the magnificent stage pictures which pass like a living panorama, full of light and color, before their eyes, are produced. They see perfect groupings, great ensembles, perfect processions, and constant changes of scenery and lights, but it is not possible for them to comprehend the enormous amount of attention to detail and knowledge of the handling of masses of people and quantities of stage paraphernalia required for the bringing forward of these results.
The Metropolitan Opera House stage is one of the greatest in the world, and is certainly the most modern, in all its parts, of any of the big structures of its kind in Europe. When the building was partly destroyed by fire several years ago, it became necessary, among other things, to erect an entirely new stage, and this was done upon all the latest lines of invention.
The area occupied by the stage is one hundred and one feet in width and eighty-seven feet deep. The proscenium arch, which is fifty-five feet square, really gives but little indication of the great amount of space at the disposal of the scene shifters, carpenters, mechanics, electricians, scene painters, and property men who form the portion of the equipment of the establishment never appearing in sight of the audience.
In addition to the room at both sides of the visible stage, there is a great deal of space above and below which is constantly utilized. It is ninety feet from the level of the stage to the rigging loft – which is sometimes called the gridiron in the language of the theatre. There is the clear limit to which scenes may be hoisted without interference when they are pulled above the line of sight of the occupants of the audience room. Below the stage surface there is clear depth of twenty-eight feet to the base of the sub-cellar. By this double arrangement, above and below, sets of scenery and other articles may be either lifted up or lowered down, as the exigencies of the case may require.
Surrounding the stage, at the height of thirty-six feet, is the first fly gallery, upon which the men who handle the scenery are stationed. In the Metropolitan there are two other fly galleries above this one. Here the ropes are coiled or fastened, as may be necessary, and a great many of the changes of scenery are carried out.
The half of the stage nearest the audience is made in sections – some times called traps – that are easily removed for the production of scenic effects. The rear half of the stage is built in bridges, eight or ten feet broad, and crossing the entire width. These are supported by steel trusses readily hoisted by counter-weights to any desired height up to twenty-three feet above the floor level.
They are a great improvement over the old system, partly on account of the readiness with which they are lifted and fastened at any desired point, and partly for the reason that they are as firm and secure as the stage itself.”
To be continued…
