Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett
This is a long and contemplative post, so my apologies in advance. Quarantine is providing me with a little too much time to think, hence why I am painting so much; it silences the internal dialogue.
In 1918, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “Pitt and Stella dropped in on us from Trenton on my 62nd birthday on the 21st, and we all enjoyed their surprise and their visit.” Pitt was Moses’ eldest son who lived in New Jersey. Today, Moses may be considered three years away from retirement. In 1918, he was mid-career with no retirement in sight. What were the physical barriers of a scenic artist working in the early-twentieth century versus now?
There are a few things to consider about the careers of scenic artists during the early twentieth century. The first is that they were not working on the floor, most painted on a vertical frame, one that moved up and down. Aged scenic artists didn’t have to crawl around on the floor to tack down a drop, or bend over to paint some little detail. They did not spend a lifetime having to suddenly drop to the floor or kneel for extended periods of time.
How long could scenic artists work during the late-nineteenth and early twentieth century? Until death. If you don’t have to kneel down, and the painting was at a comfortable height, why stop working? With no social security net, stopping work at any point might not be an option. Take away the physical obstacles and you could paint as long as your mind stayed sharp.
It’s pretty simple if you deconstruct the early-twentieth century painting process. What are the greatest obstacles that an older artist may encounter in a shop if they are above the age of 60? Kneeling, crouching and climbing. I am almost fifty-one years old and consider myself in pretty good shape. I am overweight, but I have remained active my whole life and spent hours working on the floor. Starting out as a dancer, the flexibility remains with me – so far. That being said, I can no longer crawl around on my hands and knees for extended periods of time anymore, without suffering the next day. I had a big epiphany a few months ago when I was painting an ad drop on a motorized paint frame at the University of Minnesota, Duluth. I was putting in an ungodly amount of hours, all by myself, yet did not feel the strain. Although I enjoyed what I was doing, the key for me was painting on a vertical paint frame. At every step of the process, my painting was at the perfect height. No over-reaching, no crouching and no straining. Why would I need to ever retire if I could physically do the work I love?
There is another thing to keep in mind about the early-twentieth century American scenic studio that is really important– journeyman artists had assistants. That is not the case with every journeyman artist now, especially if you freelance and do not enjoy a permanent position. These young assistants, “pot-boys” (for filling pots of paint), would tack up the drop on a vertical frame, prime it and possibly base-coat many of the basic colors. If you were at the top of your profession, you may only need to show up to paint the complex part of scene, adding in flourishes to add dimension and sparkle. There are pros and cons to our industry at every step it seems.
The industry really began to change in the 1920s – and then completely shifted in the 1930s during the Great Depression. Scenic artists noted the shift in their memoirs and in newspaper articles. Those who recalled the changing times at the end of their life detailed the cause of change in scenic art. A few years back, I read a series of letters between John Hanny and Dr. John Rothgeb from 1979. They are now part of the Rothgeb collection at the University of Texas, Austin. Hanny was hired at Sosman & Landis by Thomas G. Moses in 1906; he was 16 years old at the time and earning $6 a week. Although his salary increased five-fold in six years, by 1920, he and four other artists left to form Chicago Service Studios. That business only lasted six years. In 1926 Art Oberbeck of ACME studios of Chicago bought the studio. Hanny’s scenic art career was tumultuous at best beginning in the mid-1920s.
When asked by Dr. Rothgeb in 1979 to describe the era from 1900 to 1929, Hanny wrote the following:
“The depression of 1929 just about stopped the production of stage scenery – at least in Chicago. Road shows, musicals, etc. if any were being produced in New York and Hollywood. At this point all the studios disappeared but the scene painter just couldn’t disappear and had to become freelancers. There was no such thing as a steady job and the boys were hard put to find a day’s pay. Most of the following 10 years were really tough and 1929 proved to be a big change in our business, in purpose, in design, paint and other materials.” Hanny goes onto describe the emergence of a new theatrical supplier: “These were not Scenic Studios but rather combinations of carpenter and machine shops equipped to turn out booths, revolving turn tables, electrical effects and so on. The art was done in any available loft or vacant store space.”
This is when scenic art shifts from an art, to a craft; no longer does painted illusion drive the industry, it almost becomes an after thought of the production process. Yes, there are exceptions.
Hanny continues, “The biggest change to us painters was our paints. Luminal Casein was pretty well established as a very practical and useful medium so, it, and show card color was the norm. So – no more ‘dry’ colors – no more soup bowls or hot size, and of course no more paint frames. Drops, if any were painted on the floor.” THIS is a turning point in American scenic art. We abandon something that worked incredibly well for over a century. Not everyone transitions to floor painting, and pockets remain with scenic artists continuing to paint on vertical frames – just look at Hollywood. Scene painting continues to thrive there more so than anywhere else in the United States.
With the shift from painting on a vertical frame to the floor for live theatre and industrial shows, standard techniques and tools also changed. Hanny recalled, “The house painter’s sash brush came into use and many of the former ‘tools’ such as snappers and center-poles and others were no longer needed. The folding 2 ft. brass bound rule gave way to the yard stick.”
When this industry wide change occurred, Hanny was in his forties and Moses was at the end of his career. I cannot imagine watching my entire life’s work be condemned as “old fashioned” as much pictorial realism went out of vogue. Think of the theatre world that Moses entered in 1873. He was from the generation of scenic artists who chummed together on sketching trips to gather resources. The generation who took art classes together at fine art academies and garnered some of the top salaries in the theatre profession. This was all ending, faster than any of them realized.
We talk about evolution in the theater industry; technological innovations that herald change and produce ever-better products. Sometimes the only way to forge ahead is to forget the past. If we don’t look back, we can’t lament what is lost. Such was the case when the golden age of American scenic art came to an end. 1880 to 1914 is what I consider the golden age of scenic art. Yes, I am sure there are many who disagree with those dates. Much scenic art training simultaneously shifted to academic institutions around this same time. This created a very different atmosphere, a departure from scenic studios that began training sixteen-year-old boys.
As with everything, a massive shift in any industry affects the accepted standards. What we consider “beautiful” or even “acceptable” is sometimes based on the lowest common denominator. As with many things, “quality” work is relative to accepted industry standards and the times.
To be continued…
