Month: October 2020

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Detroit scenic artists, Robert Hopkin and his son William G. Hopkin, traveled west in 1881 to paint scenery for the Tabor Grand Opera House and the Grand Opera House in Colorado Springs. Representing the Chicago firm J. B. Sullivan & Bro., they created similar drop-curtains for each stage. My interest in Hopkin is two-fold: first and foremost, his connection to the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver, and secondly, his mentorship of Thomas G. Moses in the 1870s.

On Sept. 23, 1906, the “Detroit Free Press” published an article about the life and career of “Robert Hopkin, Painter” by John Hubert Greusel. He passed away only three years later.  I am including this article in its entirety, as it provides great insight into the nineteenth-century generation of scenic artists who trained the generation of Thomas G. Moses.

“ROBERT HOPKIN, PAINTER

Robert Hopkin’s pipe kept going out. Every few minutes, he would go to the corner of his studio, tear a leaf out of a magazine, twist the paper and set it on fire at a gas-burner, and so get a fresh fire for his pipe. Many times during the afternoon he kept that up. It was chat, smoke, show pictures, hunt through albums, delve into portfolios.

The artist looks like a sailor; collar open at the neck, weather-beaten face, silvery gray hair close-cropped, straightforward, candid man, who has nothing to say of his ambitions.

I could scarcely believe Robert Hopkin to be the master of that wonderful chiaroscuro of the sea, visible in many paintings which, one after the other, he placed on the easel. He appeared to me more like one of those rough and ready sailormen that he paints with fidelity; and as he examined the relics in the corners, Bob reminded of Jack looking over souvenirs of voyages taken years ago. He showed me a wooden soup-box filled with odds and ends, and fished out photographs to men prominent in Detroit forty years ago; reads scraps of poetry; studied forgotten theatrical programs, and I know not what else.

He always kept smoking his briar pipe which just as persistently kept going out and had to be relighted, with the twisted papers.

SOUVENIRS OF HOPKIN’S HISTORY

Robert Hopkin still has the sure touch of his younger days, the breadth of the distinguished Dutch marine-painters. Many of his scenes on the Great Lakes resemble the work of famous sea-painters along the Zuyder Zee and are at the islands of Marken and Monnickendam.

Bob tells me that he grew up on the Detroit wharves, passed through an apprenticeship in mixing colors for decorators, drifted to scene painting, and finally made easel pictures. As he finished around in his boxes and albums for souvenirs of his early life, at last he brought up a faded photograph of the first drop-curtain of the Detroit Opera House. The theme was an allegorical landscape surrounded by Corinthian columns, supporting a flat arch – an arch that builders always said was impossible. But a fig cared Bob, the scenic artist, for these mechanical criticisms. He also showed me a drawing of the second curtains, bearing the familiar lines:

So fleet the works of men back to their earth again

Ancient and holy things fade like a dream

And Bob with a  merry laugh told me that George Goodale used to be worried half to death to satisfy curious letter-writers, who wanted to know where the quotation came from. The dwellers along the English Channel, says Bob, held a fete each year to scrub a great white horse, carved in chalk cliffs; and Kingsley’s lines are found in the opening of the description.

SMELL OF THE SEA

Once in a while, Bob makes pictures that are not for sale, paints ‘em for himself. No one is to have ‘em! He is that  much od an artist. He spoke of “The Kelp-Gathers,” one of his favorites. But he did not show it to me. He is peculiar that way. He may bring out his pictures or he may keep them stacked up. He did hunt out a green-covered book, “The Land of Lorne,” and gravely handed it to me. On the title page, I read, “To Robert Hopkin from his friend Mylne, March 3, 1879. Mylne was one of Bob’s earliest admirer’s Some day you may see a picture by Wenzel, three men talking, called “The Council of War.” One is Bob, the other is William Mylne, the artist, and the third is George W. Clark, lawyer, cronies, all dead now, except, Bob. Wenzel, a society cartoonist, and the best, put patent leather shoes on Bob. Bob smiled as I showed it to him. He  himself always wears old carpet slippers in his studio at this time of year.

How many pictures has Robert Hopkin made? He does not know. He has never kept a studio register. His plain ways were shown when he brought out an album, photographs of his paintings. Under one, here and there, was written in lead pencil, Mr. Muir, Mr. Robinson, Mr. Chittenden, Mr. Clark. That is his style of bookkeeping.

BOB’S DELIGHT

“Have a pipe?” He brought out paper and tobacco for me. Have I ever read “White Wings, a Yachting Romance,” by William Black? Bob again visited that mysterious rear-room and returned with a copy of “The Princess of Thule.” I opened it at random and leaning back in the tall old horse-hair upholstered chair, began reading the first thing.”

“A dreary sky, a dreary fall of rain. Long low flats covered their own damp breath through which the miserable cattle loomed like shadows. Everywhere, lakes and pools, as thickly sown amidst the land as islands amid Pacific waters. Huts, wretched and chilly, scarcely discernible from the rock-strewn marshes surrounding them. To the east, the Minch, rolling dismal waters toward the far off headlands of Skye; to the west, the ocean, foaming at the lips, and stretching barren and desolate into the rain-charged clouds.”

I have no doubt that the sea and the storm and the wind came back to the venerable artist, as I read on and on. He had never followed the sea, he told me, but some of his ancestors were seafaring people around the isle of Bule and the boy was a frequent visitor at the home of his grandfather, a sea captain of Rothsay, who took little Bob on many of his short coasting trips. He has spent his Boyhood in Glasgow, has seen the ships around the world, and wished to go to sea. At 11, with his father, Bob came to Detroit and has been here for 60 years, barring cruises here and there. In the early days he was never away from the wharves; worked in the shipyard at the foot of Cass street, knew the sailors, riggers and owners. He did boat-painting but soon drifted to scene painting and color work for Tuttle & Patton, the late William Wright, Dean Godfrey & Co. In 1871, Bob went over to Chicago, was burned out, came back to Detroit, began easel-work and has followed it ever since for pure love.

Suddenly, turning the talk, he asked me if I had seen that moonlight, last night, coming down from the Flats?  It was fine, the moon on the red buoys, and the light through the clouds. He might paint it, sometime. And then, in his quiet, unimportant way, he went on to tell me that he could carry these pictures in his mind for a long time. He thinks in pictures, the way other men think in figures or in vague flashes. Bob’s mind is like a picture-book.

That he is filled with the mystery and witchery if the sea was easily seen, and it was not long before he was saying that he didn’t wonder sailors were superstitious, often imagined they saw ghosts and goblins. The lonesome life at seas appeals to Bob’s imagination. It was plain that he had been under the spell, many of time.

COLOR

He spoke of clipper-built ships as the finest every built by man.

Last year, he took a trip to Scotland, went on a slow boat, he said, so that it would last longer. The Irish channel is rough all the time. But Bob is never seasick.

Ireland is righty named the Green Isle. The mists hang over it and keep the sun from burning up the grass. In Scotland, it’s the same. The figs are fine. The dark glen of Scotland famed in poetry, is also fine, to the artist’s eye. In Ireland there is so much color. Women in the back countries dress in bright tints. A long way off, the Irish girl’s red hood and cloak is visible. In America the only people that still have a touch of color in their daily loves are Syrians and the Italian immigrants. How pretty they are with their rings and their bright shawls. Civilization robs them soon of these gay colors.

Bob smokes and talks like that. There is no haste. It takes a long time.

Did I tell you that Bob, who is a plain main, dresses plainly and sticks to boots, like those worn in Detroit 40 years ago?

You learn, slowly, more things. Bob will never put a brush to canvas while anyone is near. He works alone. He has no secrets but he doesn’t want anyone around.

If he hears that you are going to say a word or two of his work, he begins to fidget, objects, backs away, shuts the door of his studio and draws in the latch-string.

And beyond all other things, he hates newspaper notices – despises them.

The most money he ever received for a painting was $2,300; – Cotton Exchange, New Orleans. The worst treatment he ever had was at the Centennial of 1876. Through a mistake Bob’s picture was hung in the Michigan building, instead of in the art gallery. That sickened Bob of exhibits. He hasn’t bothered himself to send anything to any of them for years. Some years ago he was asked to exhibit in the Royal Academy, England. “What’s the use? Too much trouble! What’s it all amount to anyway?” says Bob.

He has a memory for technique. If he ever sees a scrap of canvas; well, he’ll know it again, after years. The other day, a friend found something in a second-hand store and asked Bob to take a look. Bob did so and the friend bought, on Bobs recommendation. On cleaning the painting, the name Bob had predicted was found there. The picture was by a Canadian artist of renown, but his works are known to only a few collectors. Bob had seen only one, years before. He knew the style almost at a glance.

IMPRESSIONIST      

As for art, he is an impressionist, not in any high technical or extreme sense, but in the simple meaning, to reproduce and impression; to see something, in your own way. Many years before impressionism became the vogue or before we knew one school from another, he went direct to nature’s heart for his school and his instruction and took for himself and his school all that was good without being an extremist in impressionism. His teacher was Mother Nature; his school, the seas. He paints as he breathes, that is to say, naturally as you wink you eyes. What more is there to be said?

He is likely to get up at 4 in the morning and go to the wharves. Sunset often finds him strolling about, looking at the river.

He does not paint in open air. He makes sketches, perhaps adding a dab of color, for a key. He scribbles notes of backgrounds, or color scheme. The actual spirit of the scene he keeps in his heart.

Mcedag [sp?], the great Hollander, who paints everything thought the window of his studio, which opens over the sea, has one, perhaps two moods. Hopkin has as many moods as the sea has lights and shadow. You see his ships in a heavy storm, in a fair wind, in a dead calm, in moonlight. He knows all the caprices of the sea, He paints them all.

One day, his paintings are going to come into their own.

INSIGHT

Newspaper waifs of verse appeal to Bob. One day, Charles L. Clark read Bob a newspaper poem on ocean’s wonderous caves. That was enough! Bob painted them. On another day Bob read a bit of newspaper poetry entitled “The Graveyard by the Sea.” It told of a strange thing that the sea does somewhere on an unchartered coast, buries the dead in the crawling sands, heaps up the sands, while the storm sings in requiem. Bob was amazingly caught by the conception. In his mind’s eye he already saw it all. In the Detroit Museum of Art you will find a painting called “The Graveyard by the Sea.”

The graveyard by the Sea-

Where ocean breezes sweep across the restless deep.

It stands, with headstones quaint, with sculpture rude.

Robert Hopkin is touched by the pathos of the sea, the forlorn lives of toilers.

Bob has always been amiable in business. What does he care? Hasn’t he enough for himself? To begin with, he lacks the self-conceit of artists and musicians. For publicity or art criticism he cares absolutely nothing. He prefers to let his paintings tell their own story. Who is the man, that called today? A writer do you say? And he is going to say something of me in the paper? This will never do. Is there not some way to stop him?

Bob will avoid all his cronies for a week after reading wat is told of him here, today. It will cause him a bad quarter of an hour.

BOB’S STUDIO

It’s not the conventional studio with bronze lamps, bright silks, divans, mirrors and statuary. Bob’s place is a loft where a painter works; and the corners are stacked with stuff.

His atelier is in the rear of this house, No. 247 First street. A brick barn, reached by a stairs, with two turns. A hall, a wooden door of undressed lumber, black with age. An old-fashioned latch-string. A room perhaps 10×12, divided from another room of equal size. A blackened skylight, under which is the easel, on which is a picture of a full-rigged ship at sea.  Here’s where you find Robert Hopkin.

Bob keeps a tiny point of gas burning for a pipe-lighter. He uses it often, for his pipe has a way of going out unexpectedly.

A base-burner with a long pipe stands in plain view and on the pipe someone has drawn a skull and cross bones. IN the corner, are two stone jugs, tubes of color, pipes, tobacco, a large mirror and above is the motto, in old English text, “Cheerful Company Gladdens the Hour.”

WORLD A PICTURE BOOK

The world to him is a picture book of the sea. We are coming to it, little by little. He is a man that grows on you. You must wait for him to reveal himself. He goes with his paint box and brushes and paints his seas. He does it not for money or for glory and never bothers his head over formal prattle. Bob tried symphonies in greens, greys and blues, on gold background, long before Whistler was known to fame. Bob had painted in the various schools, but he is not an impressionist, or realist, or an schoolman, or any stylist. He is himself. He paints the sea in his own way. When he shuts the door of his studio, he might as well be out at sea. He is alone, with his thoughts. The ship is in the harbor ready to sail. There is a fair wind and the tide is strong. The sails are set and she starts on her voyage.

Where does he get his knowledge of light? Why is the sea a mystery to him – a mystery yet an open book. The seas is his friend and confidant, because he loves the sea. He makes the waves roll, Storm or sunshine, and always that wonderful atmosphere of the sea – the old man puts them in his canvas. As he paints it, the sea loves. The ships all but sail out of the water. His pictures are all of flesh and blood people, hard-handed men and women who have to struggle to earn their daily bread. It is not the statuesque Barbizon peasantry, but he larger unidealized and yet idealized race, as Hopkin sees the people of the sea.

Robert Hopkin, master marine painter, seems to have a hand too large to be restrained by convention; that hand is therefore guided over the canvas by a sort of intuitive constructive imagination, restrained but not lost in the knowledge of the practical sailor.

The serious old man is there beside you, smoking his briar pipe. He is the sailorman and the artist; his shirt collar is open at the neck, his big sunburned hands rest in his lap. He is come home from the sea to tell us another story. Look upon him well; study his weather-beaten face and kindly eyes; – for among the world’s great marine painters you may not soon see his like again.

“Come up and have a smoke again, some day,” he tells me as I shake hands at the studio door.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1889, the Bostonians extended their tour to visit the Pacific states, including some remote mountain towns west of Denver. Previously known as the Boston Ideal Opera Company, the company traveled under the management of three principals, Karl, MacDonald and Barnabee.

The Bostonians visited the Tabor Opera House in Leadville in July 1899, performing “Fatinitza” for a filled house.  On July 8, 1889, the “Carbonate Chronicle” announced, “The great operatic event of the year in Leadville will be the appearance of the famous Bostonians. The success of the company has indeed been flattering – it is an American organization of which Americans may just feel proud.”

On June 24, 1889, the “Leadville Daily Chronicle” described how the extension of the Bostonian tour, expand their territory to Leadville. The article reported, “During their last engagement in Chicago a proposition to tour the leading cities of the Pacific slope was made to them by Will J. Davis, manager of the Haymarket theater in that city, acting for himself and Al Hayman, the manager of Baldwin’s theater and the New California theater of San Francisco. Terms were agreed upon, after some deliberation, for it was something unusual for this company to prolong its season so far into the summer as this tour is completed. However, all objections were surmounted, and Messrs. Hayman and Davis secured the celebrated singers by paying them a good round certainty for ten weeks. The speculative managers assumed the entire risk. The Bostonians left Chicago Sunday, April 28, for Los Angeles, where they sang the week of May 6. Then followed the tremendous four weeks success in San Francisco which has but recently closed. The company opens to-morrow night in Denver, following with engagements at Pueblo, Leadville, Colorado Springs, Lincoln, Nebraska, Omaha, and Sioux City. The company numbers some seventy-odd people, and includes all the principal artists, chorus singers and members of their own orchestra. They travel by special train and in very good style, it being the intention of Karl, Barnabee, and MacDonald, the proprietors, to furnish sleeping car accommodations for the entire company at their own expense. Costumes, personal baggage and special scenery help make the size of the special quite as large as most regular trains. The personnel of this company, anyway considered, is not approached by any similar organization in the country. It is almost wholly Bostonian, the exception being credited to Chicago, in the case of the three principals, while Cincinnati and Baltimore are credited with one each. There is a distinct New England flavor to the chorus and orchestra. The independent airs of the Boston girl are plainly present in the pretty young ladies in the chorus, while the young men might pass for Harvard students.”

The “Leadville Daily Chronicle” rejoiced, “At last! After countless visits to Colorado by that greatest of all operatic organization, the Bostonians, Leadville will see them. While in the city last Thursday, Manager Peter McCourt of the Tabor Grand, Denver completed the arrangements whereby the great company will visit Leadville, the dates having been fixed on Monday and Tuesday, July 1 and 2” (June 24, 1889). However, the best laid plans don’t always work, and the troupe rearranged a section of the tour as Emma Abbot had already performed in “Bohemian Girl.”

On July 1, 1889, Leadville’s “Carbonate Chronicle” announced, “The ‘Bostonians’ Will Come Next Week and Give Us Two Treat.” The article continued, “The final arrangements were completed yesterday and the great organization with its many superb singers will give two performances at the Tabor Opera House. It was first decided, when Mr. Dailey, representing the company, was in Leadville, to play here on Monday and Tuesday, giving “Bohemian Girl” and “Fatiniza.” Learning that the former opera had been played here by the Abbott company, it was thought best to change that and also the dates, playing Pueblo and Colorado Springs before Leadville and also give Aspen a chance to see this really wonderful company. The state-tour, therefore, will be as follows: Monday, Colorado Springs; Tuesday and Wednesday, Pueblo; Thursday and Friday, Leadville; Saturday, Aspen. The “Musketeers” and “Fatinitza” will be played in the Cloud City, in the order named. The selection is a splendid one and could not have been bettered, The Bostonians will tour the state in their special train. The mounting and costuming of the opera’s will be one of the features at the Tabor. Among the principals appearing in the “Musketeers” will be Juliette Corden, Louise Bianchi, Carlotta Maconda, Josephine Bartlett, Gertrude Colby, W. H. McDonald, Edward Hoff, H. C. Barnabee and Fred Dixon. Marie Stoue and Jessie Bartlett Davis will be among the principals in “Fatinitza.”

In 1889, the Bostonians toured with five rail cars: two Pullman buffet and sleeping cars, a day coach and two baggage cars (Sioux City Journal, 14 July 1889, page 9). Besides the principal artists there were thirty singers in the grand chorus, thirteen orchestral performers, and baggage, scene and property masters; seventy people toured with the company (Los Angeles Herald, 5 May 1889, page 3). The company toured with settings for six operas, but this did not mean that they were limited to those productions. In Leadville, “The Three Musketeers” replaced the anticipated “Bohemian Girl.” Also, not all communities or venues could support six full-scale productions. For example, the Bostonians performed only two operas in Leadville, while the advertised for six at Salt Lake City’s Grand Opera.  This mean that the company toured with a significant amount of special scenery, and multiple shows necessitated careful labeling of each piece; individual pieces would be labeled for immediate identification. This is not to say that the Bostonians did not  supplement their special scenery with stock scenery from the various venues, but they would have also used clearly labeled scenery. “Fatinitza,” required only three settings for the three-act opera; a Russian Outpost on the Danube; Izzet Pasha’s Harem; and Count Kantchukoff’s Palace.

There is a door piece at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville that is clearly labeled “Fatinitza, Act 1st in 1, LH.” The extant door was for the Russian outpost on the Danube. Interestingly, the set piece does not stylistically match any of the other scenic items at the venue.

However, there remains one lone shutter that depicts half of a winter scene. Is it possible that a touring production left a scenic piece as they quickly packed up for their next stop? None of the other attic scenery was specifically marked for a show.  The only common markings were on wings for groove set positions, such as L1 and R1. This would indicate stage left, first position and stage right, first position; down stage grooves.

As I was contemplating the possibility of the Bostonians, or another touring company, leaving a scenic piece at the Tabor Opera House, I came across an article in the “Los Angeles Daily Herald” from 1889.  On May 5, an article about the Bostonians 1889 Transcontinental tour reported, “Nothing ever used in any of the many operas they present has been left behind. Scene, property, costume, and in fact every accessory to a perfectly finished performance of each opera was brought along” (page 3). Los Angeles was their first stop on the tour. I have to wonder if this was still the case as the tour neared an end in Leadville, and the elevation took its toll on both performers and stagehands.

“Fatinitza” returned to the Tabor Opera House in Leadville four years later.  On April 20, 1893, the “Leadville Daily Chronicle” advertised three upcoming operas performed by a much smaller company, the Calhoun Opera Co. Their line up included “Fatinitza,” “Said Pasha” and “Boccaccio.”  The shows were produced on a much smaller scale than the Bostonians in 1889. Instead of the Bostonian’s seventy-member company, the Calhoun Opera company toured with only forty people. Of these forty individuals, five of them constituted the orchestra.  Reviews for the Calhoun Opera Co. shows were mediocre. Leadville’s  “Herald Democrat” announced “an evenly balanced company.” The article continued, “One of the striking features of the Calhoun Opera Company is the nice equilibrium of the principles in producing artistic effects. They have been very intelligently selected, and the proprietor and chief manager, Mr. Shunk of Chicago, is to be congratulated on having organized a company that is compact and even well equipped to gain popular favor.”

Regardless of which touring company left the outpost hut for “Fatinitza,” the construction dates are approximately, 1885 to 1895. 

To be continued…

From September 21-27, 2020, I led a group of local volunteers to document historic stage settings in the attic of the Tabor Opera House (Leadville, Colorado). Below are two horizon shutters and corresponding side wings. There were three sets of wings to accompany each set of shutters.

When the Tabor Opera House stage was renovated at the beginning of the twentieth century, new scenery was purchased from the Kansas City Scenic Co. The Kansas City Scenic Co. subcontracted some of the project to Sosman & Landis Scene Painting Studio in Chicago.

The older scenery, especially that painted by T. Frank Cox and associates in 1888, was stored in the Tabor Opera House attic. The old scenery sat for over a century, until last month when we lowered most pieces to the stage floor. Each piece was lowered thru a small opening high above the proscenium wall, stage right side.

Unfortunately, when some of the wings were placed in storage the height was reduced so that they could be tacked up to an attic wall. Each piece was cut down from 16′-0″ to 10′-0″. Of the original six wings, two had their bottoms cut off and three had their tops cut off. One wing had both the top and bottom trimmed.

These pieces are a delightful look at American theatre history. Shutters created backings for nineteenth and early-twentieth-century stage pictures. Serving the same function as a backdrop, they slid together. Flat sheaves were attached to the bottom of the shutters to help them effortlessly roll together. Once joined, the centre seam was barely noticeable from the audience. Scenes were easily shifted, and often double-painted. The back of each shutter and wing holds another composition.

Shutters and side wings were a perfect solution for theaters that did not have enough fly space to raise backdrops out of sight. Shutters masked the upstage area and wings masked the side stage area, while each supported painted illusion on the stage.

Wings and Shutters were standard stage settings for many American nineteenth and early-twentieth century stages. The Tabor Opera House shutter scenes are painted on linen fabric and tacked to pine frames. The scenic paint was a mixture of pure color (dry pigment) and diluted animal hide glue.

For more information about the historic scenery collections at the Tabor Opera House, visit www.drypigment.net and keyword search “Tabor Opera House.”

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Robert B. Hopkin (1832-1909) was a scenic artist and easel artist, well known known for his marine paintings in Detroit, Michigan. Reminiscing about Hopkin, Malcolm W. Bingay wrote, “Robert Hopkin painted because he found soul satisfaction in thus expressing himself. He cared nothing for the opinion of the world. He earned his living as a scenic painter so that his art could be his own. He did not want to sell his works. When he did, it was only to meet his family needs. Often urged to exhibit he gently refused. “Somebody might buy the ones I wish to keep,” he would answer” (“Detroit Free Press,” 7 Aug 1943, page 6).

Hopkin’s last name is frequently misspelled in historical documents; people and publications consistently adding an “s” to Hopkin. Even Thomas G. Moses wrote about his one-time mentor Robert Hopkins. When Thomas G. Moses first entered the scenic art profession, he assisted both C. C. Louis Malmsha in Chicago and Robert Hopkin in Detroit.

Both Malmsha and Hopkin were mentioned by Moses in a 1909 newspaper article the “Press and Sun Bulletin” article included a section on Moses’ early training, reporting that Moses “hired out as a painted boy in the Chicago studio of P. M. Almini. Louis Malmsha, director of the company, recognized the ability in the recently hired paint boy. In a year he had advanced in wages from $4 a week to $21, but the rapid rise was due to his persevering work. Robert Hopkins, a scenic artist in Detroit, Mich., was the next person to obtain the services of the rising artist” (5 Dec. 1909, page 14).  In 1875, Moses wrote, “I worked for a while on the “Naiad Queen” scenery under the celebrated Robert Hopkins, a friend of Malmsha’s.”

There is a Robert Hopkin senior and junior by 1870 both painting in Detroit. The 1870 census listed Robert Hopkin Sr., age 37 yrs. old, and the members of his household. At the time, he was living with his wife and children. His wife, Evaline, was 38 yrs. old,  and their children ranged from ages 8 to 17 yrs. old: Sophia (age 17), Robert Jr. (age 15), William G. (14), Marshall (8) and George Ruby (17). In 1870 Robert Jr. was listed as a “painter” and his father an “artist.” William also entered the painting profession, traveling west with his father in 1881. The two painted scenery for three Colorado theaters, representing the firm of J. B. Sullivan & Bro. of Chicago. On March 5, 1881, the “Detroit Free Press” reported “Robert Hopkin, the artist, and his son William G., left for Colorado on Thursday to paint the scenery and curtains for three opera houses. Before leaving “Bob” remarked to a scribe of THE FREE PRESS, “the boy is up to the old man with the pencil, and ain’t much behind him with the brush” (page 1). To date, I have confirmed that two of the three theaters were the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver and the Colorado Springs Opera House.

On September 24, 1881, “Great West” announced, “Robert Hopkins and son, the principal artists for Sullivan & Co., and the painters for the drop curtain in the Opera-house, left for the East on Sunday evening. Mr. Hopkins has left and enviable reputation behind him for his work in our theater and the one in Colorado Springs” (Denver, CO., Vol II, No. 13, page 5). Colorado Spring’s “Daily Gazette” reported, “The appointments of the stage will fully equal and in the best metropolitan establishments. The scenery is of the most elaborate and tasteful description and is painted by the well-known artist, Mr. Robert Hopkins” (Colorado Springs, 19 April 1881, pages 1-2).

The Colorado Springs Opera House also made news in Leadville, Colorado, also a stop on the circuit.  “The Leadville Daily Herald” reported, “Mr. Robert Hopkins, of Chicago, an artist of large experience, has had charge of the scene painting, and it, together with the arrangements for shifting, are equal to that of any stage in the country. There are thirteen sets of scenes, supplied with all the accessories to make each complete.” The article continued to describe the theater, “The general decoration of the auditorium is rich and appropriate. Private boxes flank the proscenium arch upon either side, which are handsomely furnished and draped in maroon and old gold, with lace trimmings. The parquette circle and balcony are all furnished with A. H. Andrews & Co.’s model seats, upholstered in marron plush…Resolved, That the cordial thanks of the citizens of Colorado Springs are due to Messrs. Howbert, Crowell and Humphrey, for erecting here this beautiful temple, dedicated to music and the drama, and their liberality and public spirit eminently entitled them to the grateful respect of their fellow citizens. Mr. J. L. Langrishe responded with a few pointed and fitting remarks in which he said that he had seen and played in a great many theatres in America and that the Colorado Springs opera house was the handsomest of its size in the United States” (April 19, 1881, page 1).

On April 9, 1881, the opera house was further described in a section entitled, “Stage Arrangements” :

“The stage is very large considering the size of the theatre, and the finest scenic effects can be produced upon it. The proscenium arch is 24×24 feet, thus giving ample room. The drop curtain is an exceedingly handsome bit of work, representing a Venetian scene. The decoration of the theatre and the painting of the scenes are under the direction of J. B. Sullivan & Bro. of Chicago. The artist in charge of the scene painting is Mr. Robert Hopkins, who is the general designer of the decorations. These designs are entirely original, having no duplicates in any theatre. The scenery and the arrangements for shifting it are equal to that of any stage. The scenes are shifted upon the Breach system, by means of counter-weights. There are thirteen separate sets of scenes, which are supplied with all the accessories to make each compete. Following is a partial synopsis of the scenes: garden scene, set cutwood flats, garden flat, vases, borders, statuettes, set arbor, walls, balustrades, ancient street scene, modern street scene, street arch, cave scene with accompanying wings, kitchen scene, plain chamber, palace scene, interior gothic scene, garret scene, prison castle, open wood, dense wood, rocks, grounds waters, set trees, horizon, numerous landscapes. There are over 200 pieces in all and the scenery will be so arranged that each scene will be complete from wing to wing that there rarely be need of pillar for instance, to enclose a wood scene, the scene being all woodland scenery within the stage borders, it will be a picture in a frame.”

This was comparable to the scenery collection at the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver, signaling a standard of excellence at western theaters. I found it intriguing that Hopkin was specifically connected with a Chicago decorating – J. B. Sullivan & Bro.

James Bernard and Michael Joseph Sullivan’s firm was located at 266 N. Clark in 1877 (Lakeside Directory of Chicago, 1877-1878). This was just down the street from Sosman & Landis Scene Painting Studios. J. B. Sullian & Bro. was established in the 1850s, with founding dates varying from 1853 to 1857. The Sullivan brothers were included in “History of Chicago: From the Fire of 1871 until 1885” by Alfred Theodor Andreas.  Here are the entries for the two brothers:

“James Bernard Sullivan, of the firm J. B. Sullivan & Bro., painting, decorating in fresco, etc., is the son of Michael and Hannah Sullivan, and was born in Troy, New York, on November 29, 1830. He remained at home until he was twenty years of age, during which time he received a thorough education, and then went to New York, where he engaged with John S. Perry, painter, decorator, etc., with which he continued one year. After mastering his trade, he continued his vocation in Troy, until 1855, when he came to Chicago. In the following year he began business on his own account, and in 1857 established himself at Nos. 266-268 North Clark Street, his present location. He associated with his brother M. J. Sullivan, in 1869, under the firm J. B. Sullivan & Bro. This establishment has kept pace with the rapid development of the decorative art, and is recognized by the trade and the public as one of the leading houses in the Northwest. First-class materials and expert workmen are only employed, and to these aids the Messrs. Sullivan attribute their success. Mr. Sullivan was married, in 1859, to Mrs. Margaret Cunningham of Schenectady, N. Y., who dies in 1868, leaving four children, – Mary E., Margaret F., James B. and Agnes M. His second marriage, to Miss Elizabeth Glassbrook, of Chicago, occurred in 1870; they have two children, – Joseph and Irene.”

            Michael Joseph Sullivan of the firm J B. Sullivan & Bro., painting and decorating, etc., is the son of Michael and Hannah Sullivan, and was born in Troy, N. Y., on October 3, 1846. He attended public schools of his native city until fourteen years of age when he came to this city, and engaged in his trade in the establishment of his brother, J. B. Sullivan & Bro., and in 1872 became full partner. He is thoroughly conversant with the details of the decorative art, and is known to the public as one of the best-posted men in the trade. Mr. Sullivan was married on October 3, 1872, to Miss Ellen Braley, and accomplished lady of Chicago. They have two children,- Francis J. and Marie E.”

Advertisements from the 1880s note that the firm was divided into three departments: Wall Paper and Paper Decorations; Painting and Glazing Department; and Fresco and Decorative Department (1877 Inland Architect and News Record). Additionally, ads promised, “Work in various departments is under the personal supervision of the firm. Competent men sent to any section of the country. Designs furnished. Correspondence solicited.” Although residing in Detroit, Robert Hopkin Sr. was principal artist for the Chicago firm in 1881, traveling west to complete theatre projects that included stage scenery.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

For the past month, I have explored the lives and careers of various scenic artists who worked for the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado, and Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver, Colorado. Last week, before I left for Richmond, Virginia, I was in the midst of exploring Tabor Grand Opera House scenic artist Henry C. Tryon. Beginning his life as Henry B. Hoornbeck, he officially changed his last name to Henry C. Tryon in 1882. This is similar to the British actor Ebenezer J. Britton, who painted under the alias Harley Merry.

It is important to recall the timeline for both Leadville’s Tabor Opera House and Denver’s Tabor Grand Opera House. The Tabor Opera House in Leadville opened on November 20, 1879. By March 1880, H. A. W. Tabor announced that he purchased land in Denver to build another opera house. The new venue was named the Tabor Grand Opera House, and designed by Edbrooke and F. P. Burnham of Chicago. Keep in mind that these the architects provide another concrete connection with Chicago scenic artists of the day. The Tabor Grand Opera House opened on August 1, 1881. That year, newspapers across the country described the theater:

“The stage is constructed and fitted up on a scale that would cause envy in many Eastern theatres. The decorations in the body of the theatre itself are of the most beautiful description, and one can see at a glance that expense was not considered in the least” (New Orleans, 6 Dec. 1881, page 9). “Harry Miner’s Dramatic Directory” described the Tabor Grand Opera House: “Size of stage, 45×75; size of proscenium opening, 34×33; height from stage to grooves, 20; height from stage to rigging loft, 66; depth under stage, 12; traps, 6, and 2 bridges; number sets of scenery, 50.”

Henry C. Tryon painted for the Tabor Grand Opera House. Various newspapers and theatrical directories identify Tryon as the scenic artist there from 1881 to 1882. In addition to working in Denver during 1881, Tryon also painted in Cincinnati, Minneapolis, and Chicago. Like other scenic artists at this time, Tryon was constantly on the go and zipping across the country at an amazing speed to complete numerous projects.

Interestingly, another artist was credited with the Tabor Grand Opera’s drop curtain – Robert Hopkin (1832-1909). At the age of 49 yrs. old, Hopkin was a well-known artist all across the country, but primarily lived in Detroit. On March 5, 1881, the “Detroit Free Press” reported “Robert Hopkin, the artist, and his son William G., left for Colorado on Thursday to paint the scenery and curtains for three opera houses. Before leaving “Bob” remarked to a scribe of THE FREE PRESS, “the boy is up to the old man with the pencil, and ain’t much behind him with the brush” (page 1). Even year later, article about Hopkin would recall, “He decorated and painted the drop curtain and scenery for Tabor’s opera house at Denver, at the time one of the finest theaters in America.

I have written about Hopkin in the past, as well as his connection to Thomas G. Moses. Both Tryon and Moses worked as assistants to Hopkin Sr. in 1875 on a production of the “Naiad Queen.” Moses kept in touch with Hopkin, and also admired his artwork. In 1884, Moses visited the Tabor Grand while on a sketching trip with three other scenic artists: Edward Morange, Hardesty Maratta, and John H. Young. The four traveled from Chicago to Breckenridge, Colorado, to gather source material and hone their artistic skills. While on their trip, the visited the Tabor Opera House in Denver to see the drop curtain by their friend Robert Hopkins. The next year, Moses went on another sketching trip to West Virginia with Young and Tryon. Of the Colorado trip, Moses wrote, “We all attended the theatre, the famous Tabor Grand, and we found it all we had expected it would be, nicely decorated and fine woodwork.  The Drop Curtain was very good: an old ruin with some poetical feeling that pleased everyone.  It was painted by an old friend of mine, Mr. Robert Hopkins, of Detroit, Michigan.  This is a favorite subject of his, having done a similar one in Detroit” (The palette & Chisel, Vol. 1, No. 3, March 1928).  A photograph remains of Hopkins’ drop curtain for the Tabor Grand Opera House, now part of the Denver Public Library’s online collection.

Years later, the “Detroit Free Press” interviewed Robert “Bob” Hopkin and touched upon the drop-curtain for the Detroit Opera House (23 Sept 1906, page 51). The article reported, “Bob tells me that he grew up on the Detroit wharves, passed through an apprenticeship in mixing colors for decorators, drifted to scene painting, and finally made easel pictures. As he fished around in his boxes and albums for souvenirs of his early life, as last he brought up a faded photograph of the first drop-curtain of the Detroit Opera House. The theme was an allegorical landscape, surrounded by Corinthian columns, supporting a flat arch – an arch that builders have always said was impossible. But a fig cared Bob, the scenic artist, for these mechanical criticisms. He also showed me a drawing of the second curtain bearing the familiar lines: “So fleet the works of men back to their earth again; Ancient and holy things fade like a dream.” Hopkin’s drop curtains for both the Detroit Opera House and the Tabor Opera Grand Opera House used the same inscription below the ruins of a Greek temple.

The front curtain was often considered a project in itself, sometimes taking much longer than most other scenery delivered to a theater. Many nineteenth century articles identified artists who specialized in drop curtains. In 1894, the “Philadelphia Inquirer” reported, “The drop curtain is the most expensive piece of furniture in any playhouse. Managers are more solicitous about the care of a handsome curtain that almost any other appointment in their theatres. They are usually painted by artists of wide fame in a particular branch of art which they represent, whose charges for the work range from $1,000 to $3,000.” That amount is today’s equivalent of $29,000 to $89,000 for the front curtain.

So, consider the 1881 drop curtain painted by Hopkins for the Tabor Grand Opera; an incredibly expensive items for a theater, possibly one of the most expensive appointments at a performance venue. Theatre owners, artists and patrons understood the importance of this large-scale artwork; a drop-curtain set the tone for the interior and was a culmination of the painted décor.

To be continued…

From September 21-27, 2020, I led a group of local volunteers to document historic stage settings in the attic of the Tabor Opera House (Leadville, Colorado). Below are two shutters, dating from 1888. Shutters created backings for stage picture when rolled together, forming a perfect solution for theaters that did not have room to raise backdrops out of sight. Shutters paired with side wings to mask the off stage areas. Wings and shutters slid on and off the stage in grooves to form scenic illusion on nineteenth and twentieth century stages across the United States.

The scenes are painted on linen fabric and tacked to pine frames. Pure color (dry pigment) was mixed with a binder of diluted hide glue and applied to the linen.

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

It has been a busy month, and I am currently in Richmond, Virginia. The Richmond Scottish Rite Theatre appeared on my radar again last month. The timing was less than ideal, since I was packing to leave for the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado. On September 17, I received word from Art DeHoyos that the Richmond Scottish Rite was selling their building and had no plans for the historic scenery collection. I immediately contacted Rex Hutchens, as a few years ago we tried to purchase the Winona Masonic scenery collection in an online auction.

In regard to the Richmond Scottish Rite, I was well aware of the potential sale, just not the timeline. Immediately after receiving the information from Art, I was on the phone with Rex, asking if he was still interested in acquiring a collection. After chatting briefly with him about the compositions, I contacted the Scottish Rite Secretary in Richmond to get more details, leaving a message. When I headed west to Colorado on the morning of September 19, I had little hope that I would ever see the Richmond scenery, or that it would find a new Scottish Rite home.
I did not think about the Richmond Scottish Rite again until Rex called last Sunday, October 18. By Thursday, October 22, I was on the road again. The plan was to arrive in Richmond the next day; it was an eighteen-hour drive. I would catalogue the collection over the weekend, from 8AM-6PM each day, and depart on Monday. I needed to determine the scope of the collection and whether the drops would withstand the move. If everything checked out, I would come up with a transportation plan based on the impending sale of the building. Fortunately for me, I had slide collections from both Larry Hill and Lance Brockman, taken when they documented the drops a few decades ago. Prior to my departure I created a drop inventory based on the slides.

In addition to the slides, I knew that Toomey & Volland sold scenery to the Richmond Scottish Rite in 1920. From 1920 to 1921 the Richmond Scottish Rite enlarged their existing building and renovated the stage area. This meant that the Richmond Scottish Rite either acquired a new collection from Toomey & Volland or purchased additional settings for their existing collection. Regardless of what was purchased in 1920, the entire scenery collection was moved to a new building by 1968.
The move meant that the collection was possibly reduced at this time. In the case of the St. Paul Scottish Rite, their move to a new building meant that the collection shrunk in size by one-third. For example, if a setting consisted of a leg drop, cut drop and backdrop, either the leg drops or cut drops were removed, effectively reducing the number of line sets required in the new space. This same thing may have happened in Richmond; meaning that the excess scenery was thrown out during the move, or it was tucked away somewhere in the building.Within ten minutes of arriving at the Richmond Scottish Rite, I had answers to many of my questions. There were only 49 lines hanging in the air, and most of the original sandwich battens had been removed; replaced with jute webbing at the top and pipe pockets at the bottom. Heaving a sigh of relief, I contacted Rex and explained the situation. Over the course of the day I shared photos with him and began to plan for the future move.

Because of the limited number of drops, there was more time to play with lighting while documenting each scene. All was fun and games until the Secretary mentioned that there were about four drops tucked away above the stage left storage area. No problem. I was ahead of schedule and would have ample time on Sunday afternoon to unroll the drops, as well as fully documenting the unique rigging system. When I arrived at 8AM on Sunday morning, I asked to see where the four rolled drops were stored…

…and this is when everything changed.

There were many, many more drops stored above the properties room, stage left. Unfortunately, they were beneath a dozen lighting instruments, chairs, and storage racks. This was not a simple hand-them-down-and-unroll-them project. In a glance, I knew that this would tack on an extra day, and it would be dirty work. Now cataloguing a collection of hanging scenery is an entirely different task than lowering and unrolling drops that have been compressed for a few decades. First of all, there is a dirt factor. Within minutes of handling rolled drops that are a century old, your clothes, hair, neck, face and hands are covered in black soot. The drops require gentle handling or clouds of dust float everywhere. Needless to say, I was not appropriately dressed for the task at hand, nor was the crew.
This project required many hands, and there were five of us: Michael Powers, Richard Finkelstein, Bridgette Dennett and Sarah Phillips. Bridgette and I handed down the drops to Sarah (on ladder), then Michael and Richard. After a few drops, I realized that we needed a sixth person, so I tracked down Paul, our Scottish Rite host that morning. Thank goodness he was willing to help. The addition of Paul meant that Sarah was able to stay on the ladder, while Paul, Michael and Richard placed drops on the stage floor. Slowly, and carefully, the drops were placed from the upstage wall to mid-stage; twenty-five in all.

Meanwhile…

The stage lights had also malfunctioned, so while Michael was dealing with that issue, Bridgette, Sarah and I unrolled each scene. Richard photographed each piece from the top of a ladder, as he able to adjust the skewed perspective. While he was doing that, I climbed halfway up the ladder to photograph entire composition, then took detail images from the floor, catalogued the scenes, and labeled each drop for transport. Several top battens were broken, which meant it was not an easy unroll and re-roll task. However, we finished the project by 6PM.

Tomorrow, Richard, Michael and I will finish documenting the remaining scenes that are still hanging. Michael and I depart on Tuesday for the two-day drive home. It has been a challenging, but delightful time, as we have had the opportunity to photograph the settings under various lighting conditions. I will return to my blog “Tales of a Scenic Artist and Scholar” next week.

To be continued…

This wing was discovered in the attic of the TaborOpera House; one of several wings that had been cut down and tacked to a wall in the attic.

The original height of the wing was 16′-0″. During June 2018, I first visited the Tabor Opera House attic and uncovered some of the wings and shutters in a dusty pile.

This was one of many pieces hidden under a vast pile of beautiful artwork. I returned to Leadville earlier this year (February 2020) to document the historic scenery contained on the stage of the Tabor Opera House. During a second trip to Leadville (Sept. 21-27, 2020) I led a group of local volunteers to document the attic scenery. The attic pieces received a preliminary cleaning before being lowered to the stage floor 40 feet below.

This double painted wing is the only example that remains, depicting an exterior garden and rocky pass. For more information about the historic scenery collections at the Tabor Opera House, visit www.drypigment.net and keyword search “Tabor Opera House.”

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

For the past few weeks I have been exploring the scenic art careers of Henry C. Tabor and Henry E, Burcky, both listed as scenic artists for the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver, Colorado.

Keep in mind that Henry C. Tryon was an alias, the painting name for Henry B. Hoornbeck. For the full story of Hoornbeck’s name change, visit: https://drypigment.net2020/10/16/tales-from-a-scenic-artist-and-scholar-part-1092-henry-b-hoornbeck-and-henry-c-tryon-1847-1892/ Hoornbeck’s name change became official in 1872.

In 1878, the Chicago Directory listed Henry C. Tryon as an artist, boarding as 198 W. Lake. William P. Tryon was also boarding at same address. Henry’s brother was William Patterson Hornbeck, but he also adopted the last name of Tryon at this time. The two were living with the Estella C. Tryon , the widow of sculptor and artist Horatio L. Tryon.

During the spring of 1878, Tryon was credited with scenery for the new opera house in Monticello, Iowa. The announcement reported, “The opening of our new opera house last night was a great event in the history of this city. There was an immense crowd. The opera house is said the finest in Iowa, outside the large cities. The scenery by H. C. Tryon, scenic artist of Chicago, is superb. The play was “Led Astray” and it was well rendered in every particular. We are all pleased and gratified, and return our thanks to Chicago for sending us a first-class artist in the person of Mr. Tryon”  (14 March 1878, page 5).  

By 1879, Tryon was occasionally working in New York and painting scenery for Niblo’s Garden. Tryon and Edward Simmons delivered scenery for another production of “The Black Crook.” Simmons later became associated with Tony Pastor’s Theatre and was noted as their artist in the 1884  “Harry Miner’s Dramatic Directory.”

In 1880, Henry C. Tryon painted scenery for “Sea of Ice.” On May 17, 1880, the “Muscatine Journal” reported, “All the scenery to be used was prepared especially for the play by the talented artist, Henry C. Tryon, formerly of McVicker’s Theatre, who is now here, and will personally superintend the production of the drama” (page 4). His settings for the production included: the main deck of the Urania; a plain of ice; the coast of Mexico; and a garden in Paris. The “Muscatine Journal” article elaborated, “Among the beautiful and surprising scenic effects to be produced may be mentioned the display of the Aurora Borealis, the breaking up of the ice, the fall of the ice bergs, the tropical sunset, the ripple of the ocean, and the fountain in the garden scene.”

As an itinerant scenic artist, Tryon dashed from one project to another across the country. Artists on the go provided contact information in a variety of publications. Tryon placed ads in the “New York Clipper.” A listing from December 4, 1880, listed, “Henry C. Tryon, scenic artist. Address, care 20 South Canal Street, Chicago, Letters will be forwarded.” He continued to provide the same contact information on February 5, 1881. It was during this time that Tryon partnered with Henry E. Burcky, both traveling east to paint in Cincinnati for the Opera Festival. An article in the “Cincinnati Enquirer” reported, “Messrs. H. E. Burcky and Henry Tyron, the young and talented artists who came here from Chicago to assist painting the scenery, have been doing excellent work. They are bright, intelligent and rapid worker and but for their assistance it would have been difficult to have the scenery ready by Monday next. Mr. Burcky is scenic artist at Hooley’s Theater in Chicago, and Mr. Tryon at McVicker’s. They express themselves as amazed at the extent and magnitude of the affair” (15 Feb 1881, page 4).

After working in Cincinnati, Tryon headed west to Minnesota where he painted scenery later that spring. On May 21, 1881, the Minneapolis “Star Tribune” reported, “Henry C. Tryon, the excellent scenic artist left to-day for Chicago where he goes at once to fulfil another engagement” (21 May 1881, page 5).

To summarize, during the first half of 1881, Tryon worked in Cincinnati, Minneapolis, and Chicago. By this time, he was also associated with the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver, Colorado.  I find it fascinating to track the travel of nineteenth-century scenic artists. They were constantly on the go, zipping across the country as an amazing speed.

To be continued…

From September 21-27, 2020, Dr. Wendy Waszut-Barrett led a group of local volunteers to document historic stage settings in the attic of the Tabor Opera House, Leadville, Colorado. These stage artifacts should be considered much more than “old scenery.”

Much of the historic scenery collection is comprised of large-scale artworks painted by nationally recognized artists.

Below are two shutters painted by scenic artist and theatre architect Tignal Frank Cox for the Tabor Opera House in 1888. These shutters formed a backing for the stage picture. Rolled together, shutters were a perfect solution for theaters that did not have room to raise backdrops out of sight. Wings and shutters slid on and off the stage in grooves to form scenic illusion on nineteenth and twentieth century stages across the United States.

The two shutters are also double-painted, with a rocky mountain scene on the back. Here is a link to the backside composition: https://drypigment.net…/travels-of-a-scenic-artist-and…/