Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett
For the past few days I have been sharing some articles pens by Henry C. Tryon in the 1880s. Simultaneously, I am writing about the life and career of Tryon’s one-time partner, Henry E. Burcky as part of “Travels of a Scenic Artist and Scholar” after identifying Burcky’s scenic art for the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado.
In 1884 Tryon returned to Chicago, accepting a position at Sosman & Landis scene painting studios. Previously, he had worked as the scenic artist for both the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver and the Salt Lake City Theatre in Utah.
On Dec. 28, 1884, “Chicago Tribune” published an article submitted by Tryon about the scenic art industry (Chicago, Illinois, 28 Dec 1884, page 14). The headline reads, “SCENE-PAINTING. An Art Which Has Been Neglected and Allowed to Retrograde in Chicago.” The next two subheadings of the article state, “An Important Accessory of the Theatre Which Managers and Public Alike Disregard. Turning Out So-Called Art Work by Wholesale – Culture in Europe and America.” This is possibly the most insightful article that I have located to date, written by someone who was a Sosman & Landis employee. Tryon not only tales aim at scenic studios, but also examines the root of many problems in the industry.
Although it is quite long, this 1884 article is well worth reading. Here’s Tryon’s article in its entirety:
“Are audiences when viewing a stage picture, distant 100 feet or so from their seats, aware of the immense difficulties under which the artist labored when painting it? Are they aware that he was compelled to stand within three or at most four feet from his canvas and unable to see more than a few square yards at a time? Do they realize the accurate knowledge of drawing, composition, perspective, and color required to enable hi under such circumstances to produce and effect which will be realism to them? The artist must carry in his mind’s eye the completed scene as it will appear from the auditorium, and make no error in the relative proportions and harmonies of the different piece which compose the set and which are placed on his frame one or two at a time to be painted. The theatrical and artistic character of theatres is especially governed by the stage appointments, Beauty of scenery is the most interesting and attractive kind of theatrical decoration.
No richness of auditorium will compensate for its absence.
The qualities required of a first-class scenic artist are of a much higher order than is generally supposed, and many technical difficulties are to be overcome before he can produce any brilliant effect whatsoever. One of the chief difficulties arises from the fact that his colors “dry out” several shades lighter than when they are applied. (Moisten a piece of wall paper in a room and the difference in color will illustrate this difficulty.) The artist is compelled to paint with one color while thinking of another.
Then the effect of a night light is a serious drawback. Everybody must have noticed that some colors are heightened, and others dimmed be being brought under the yellow gaslight. The scene-painter working in the broad glare of day must consider with every mark he makes the effect of this gaslight on his color. A brilliant effect by daylight may under an artificial light be entirely destroyed, and also the reverse is true; but the scene-painter must not depend upon accident in the matter.
DEAD COLORS.
Stage scenery and drop curtains are never painted in oil colors. As the effect of realism is to be attained, all glare must be avoided. The artist is limited to the use of dead color and must get his brilliant effects by skillful harmonies and combination.
Scenery then, being painted with water colors, the danger from fire is much less than s popularly supposed. The canvas is much less combustible than it was before being painted. Scene painted on both sides are almost fireproof.
The scene-painter seldom has leisure to do work at his best, and has neither time nor opportunity to correct his errors. When a picture is painted in an artist’s studio, before being finally finished and exhibited the artist will see where a change here and there will enhance the value of his painting, and he can perfect it. The scene=painter is (of necessity) denied this advantage, and his first chance to even see his completed work properly set and lighted is when he is one of the audience.
The result of seeing his work as he proceeds with the eyes of the audience is that, as he acquires knowledge, experience, and consequent skill, he gradually gets to using larger brushes, so that he is enabled, with the roughest and apparently most reckless “swashes” of the calcimining brush, to produce effects as soft, tender, and full of appropriate meaning as is done on smaller surfaces by many landscape painters.
The popular impression is that because scenes are thus painted with broad, bold, rough marks it is scarcely more than a grade or so advanced beyond mechanical work; but really it is this which makes it indisputably art and not mechanical skill.
In scene painting as in any other art, it is only the novice who takes the life out of his work by petty, contemptible smoothing down with small brushes. “Picture are made to be seen, not smelled,” said Reynolds. In decorative painting mechanical finish is the important requisite, but in scene painting this is no more an excellence than is mechanical finish in any other art.
METHODS.
The “modus operandi” of designing, painting, and arranging a set of scenery for the stage is about as follows: A descriptive “scene plot” is sent to the artist, locating the position of such portions of the scene as will be necessary to or in harmony with the “business” of the play and of the dramatic people. This plot also states the piece and period for which the scene is to be painted. The artist is not aided in his composition by the plot, but he is limited by it, the scenery, of course, being an accessory to the play and the acting. The “scene-plots” being in the artist’s hands he proceeds to study out the entire picture as it will appear when set before the audience, making a rough charcoal drawing as he thinks and composes. When his ideas have been condensed into form, he makes a cardboard model to a scale of such pieces as are required, ending his work with the “set pieces,” which were made while his work was progressing on the large canvases. His assistants having “primed” the canvas with a coating of “size” water and glue, and this being dry, he sketches in his work roughly with charcoal in a large porte crayon fastened to a large bamboo fish-pole. Having satisfactorily located the leading lines of his drawing, he corrects and gives it character with ink-marks, using a small brush. (These ink-marks will show though his color just enough so that he will not lose his drawing.” He is now ready to paint. His colors are in water pails and in paint-pots, besides which he has a palet board – a table on wheels – about eight or nine feet long and three feet wide, painted with white oil-color, and the surface polished like glass. Along one side of this palet are boxes about five inches wide for different crude colors as they come from the store. With the colors already mixed and varied by such as he wishes to get from the palet he lays in the general tone and color of his scene. This dries almost as fast as he applies it – if the weather be not too cold or damp – so that he can soon, by the assertion of culminating lights and shadows, give character to his work (before somewhat chaotic), and also make his effects of color more brilliant and his pictures more spirited.
The different portions which make up the scene having been made and painted, they are the night of the performance set on the stage and the gaslights arranged under the direction of the artist, and this arrangement is carried out thereafter by the stage carpenter under the direction of the stage manager. This is the way it is done in such theatres as the Union Square, Wallack’s, and Daly’s in New York, and the Boston Museum and Boston Theatre.
In Chicago, of the painter’s work be well done, the management is praised and artist’s individually overlooked, just as if the keeper of a picture gallery were given credit for the canvases displayed.
PICTURES.
The means employed by the masters in landscape-painting are similar to those of the best scene-painters, and it is only great artists – picture-painters are here spoken of – whose technique bears a resemblance to scene-painting. The nearer a theatrical scene is like a correct and beautiful picture the more artistic and meritorious is the scene. Much of the knowledge that scene-painters lack could be supplied them by studio artists, and studio artists could obtain from scene-painters knowledge of means to improve their own “technique” that of the best scene-painting being the best possible for their own pictures.
With their ideality in composition and boldness and facility in execution and expression, the scenic artist needs only closer study of the outdoor nature to enable him to fully demonstrate his ability to successfully compete in all respects on his immense surface, with the productions of our best landscape artists on their smaller canvases.
The method used in Continental Europe of this making up a scene with arches,” “drops” and “set pieces” is one important cause of the nobility and beauty of the spectacular scenes which have been imported here from time to time. These effects of grandeur-produced by means the most simple and natural 0 have also been shown at the operatic and dramatic festivals in Cincinnati by American artists.
In an artistic sense “flats” which run in grooved across the stage are an abomination. They require an immense width of stage to run in, and narrow the scenery to small dimensions. For instance, in one of the theatre here the “flats” are twenty feet high and twenty-eight feet wide, while the “drops” are thirty feet high and fifty feet wide, so that the full width of the stage and the height of proscenium opening are only shown when the continental method is used. Even in interior sets the apparent height of rooms would not be too great when painted on a large drop if as much stage space as necessary were taken up with the ceiling in perspective, as is done in Europe. We already use their method of elaborate exteriors. The society drama is responsible for the continuance in theatres of “flats,” and the increased height to “rigging loft” or ceiling in modern theatres makes the further use of “flats” unnecessary. It will certainly be eventually abandoned if the influence of scenic artists prevails.
FOREIGN NOTES.
In Europe each scene-painter studies and practices exclusively certain branches in his art and is not required or expected to do any scenic work outside of the field which he has made his special study. One artist there paints landscapes, foliage and exteriors; another architecture, figures and drapery, and so on. In Paris, certain artists are exclusively engaged in designing “models” of scenes which other artists paint. The perfection which these artists reach is wonderful, and this, with the care and deliberate thought which they are allowed to give to a scenic production. Is, of course, followed by grand results. In America each scene-painter is expected to excel in all these specialties.
In New York here, four, or six artists are engaged on the scenery for one play, and each painter has his own scene, for which he has to receive praise or blame.
In Chicago one scene painter is required to paint all the scenery for a play in less than a week, and when he has longer time the amount of work called for is so much greater proportionately that he must force himself to do it with too great speed and with too little thought to do him justice and his ability anything like justice.
The discerning public of Chicago perceive the scenery is not prepared for them with the same care and elaboration that they were accustomed to see exhibited in theatres a few years ago. They feel that something is amiss, but wat it is they can only surmise.
LOCAL DRAWBACKS.
The obstacles to adequate scenic mounting of plays here are numerous, but none of them are insurmountable. The “run” of pieces is brief, managers of combinations are negligent about sending their scene plots in time for proper preparation, and sharing terms will not always justify the local manager in incurring expense, experience having taught him that there is not sufficient additional patronage to repay him. The attention of the public is entirely engrossed by the dramatic features, so that very little attention is directed to the scenery. The management is not criticized by the press for lack of care in this direction, except spasmodically, and consequently the public, who are influenced by the press, take less notice of scenery here than they do in some other cities, notably the East, and in San Francisco, where the scenic artist upon producing genuine art work finds it recognized by the public and his individuality as fully stablished as is that if a favorite actor, The careful and excellent system of stage management of leading Eastern theatres is not exercised here, all attention being given to the auditorium end to the business policy of the house. Theatres here do not have stage managers, and although the artist – theoretically – has absolute control of every feature that has an influence on his scene, practically the stage-carpenters, property-men and managers of combination set things according to their own ideas. The artist is rarely consulted in the matter. His opinions of the fitness and harmony of things from an artistic standpoint are too esthetic for the practical (?) ideas of those who have the handling of productions.
These scenery for the regular theatres is constantly being changed, and much of the work done is only retained during the run of the play for which it was painted, but in the provincial towns, where no artist is regularly employed, the house being once “stocked,” the same scenery is seen over and over again by the audience for six or eight years, until they grow weary of even artistic work long before it is worn out, and scenery which is cheap becomes absolutely disgusting even to those unlearned in art.
Cheap art is valueless, but is in altogether too great demand in the provincial cities in this country. One man is not as good as another in science, literature or art. A picture by Meisonnier will sell for $50,000. Because John Smith or Peter Jones paints a similar subject and use as much or more paints, it is not considered a logical reason why the works of Smith or Jones are equal to those of Meissonnier. This is self-evident, and a little thought would make it self-evident that the same idea applies as well to scene painters.
SCENE FACTORIES.
It is known to those interested in such matters that an opera-house or a public hall is being erected, and at the proper time applications are made for the contract for furnishing the scenery. Competent scenic artists are too modest and reticent in speaking of their abilities, while competing for “outside” work. The greater their abilities and reputations as artists the less are their chances of success, outside of the regular theatres. They erroneously suppose that an engagement in a first-class theatre is sufficient evidence of their capabilities, but this goes for little with nontheatrical people who construct theatres. With them the cheapest man or the shrewdest businessman has the best chance.
Artists rarely possess business talent, but it would seem that a business man engaging one would understand that it is art ability he should employ to do art work.
The agent of a scene-factory makes his bid and his figures are so much lower than those of the capable artist that he usually secures the contract, The competing artists have based their bids in their intentions of producing genuine art work, while the successful bidder has no such idea.
The proprietors of the “factory” known nothing about art and care less. They know nothing about the requirements of a theatre, as they have never had any experience in one. They, however, succeed in obtaining the contract, and the agent having taken the various measurements, goes back to the factory, where the work is all done, to have the stuff rushed out as fast as possible.
Yet these establishments employ some really capable artists, who hate their work and despise themselves for being compelled to do it. The methods are such as effectually to crush out all their art feelings, and they themselves have nicknamed the place in which they work, “the slaughterhouse.” All these methods are ruinous to a noble art.
Scenery should always be painted in the theatre in which it is used. The conditions vary so much in different houses than an intelligent knowledge of them should be ever present in the mind of the artist who is engaged upon the scenery for each. The proprietor should select an artist who is known to be competent by theatre men, one whom they themselves would employ. He should be paid enough money to warrant him cheerfully giving all the time and thought necessary to produce the best work in his power, and after having made his contract he will forget all other interests except his purely artistic ones. This will advance him as an artist. He has a reputation to gain or lose; his pride is stimulated to the advantage of his employer, and the results are sure to be bountiful in satisfaction to both parties, and consequently to the advantage of the community.
These factories are not recognized in any way by Chicago managers, but so successful have they been in driving legitimate scenic artists from the provincial field that their owners openly boast that in a few years they will be supplying all the scenic requirements to our city theatres. How do the play-going public like the prospect?
The solution of the question, “How can scenery be produced as elegantly here as possible with the means available?” sums itself up simply in the employ of more artists, absolute authority of those artists in their own domain, with the burden of responsibility attached, greater expenditure of money by the managers for material to paint on, and careful, critical, and discriminating notice in detail by the public press.
PROGRESS OF CULTURE.
The advance of ideas among scene-painters in this country has kept pace with the general advance in art. What would have been regarded as “high art” a generation ago would hardly be tolerated now. Scene-painting is now studied, thought of, and handled as an art. All good artists have their distinct characteristics, each painting according to his individual nature and feeling.
The advance of steel-engraving in America far beyond that reached in Europe was the result of the demand for it, caused by the multiplicity of the “wildcat” banks and stock enterprises. The absorbing interest of the whole people in pictorial reproductions of incidents of the War was probably the main cause of the advance in wood-engraving, which has also reached its highest production here. Theatrical posters and lithographs are now works of art, as are also the labels upon the wares of merchants. Demands upon art ability have always been fully supplied by the talent of Americans. Business houses, banks, and public buildings are now expensively and tastefully decorated. The general art education has advanced and is still advancing with strides. Auditoriums of theatres are elegantly and artistically decorated. One step remains – the only one. The public will demand, recognize, and appreciate the highest art excellence behind the prosceniums of the theatres. Managers and artists must then do their best, and the result will be increased attraction of the theatres and an influence from them which will elevate the general tone.
-Henry C. Tryon”
To be continued…
