Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett
Yesterday’s post included an article written by Henry C. Tryon and published in the “Chicago Tribune” on Dec. 28, 1884 (page 14). The headline was “SCENE-PAINTING. An Art Which Has Been Neglected and Allowed to Retrograde in Chicago.” On Dec. 19, 1884, Tyron wrote penned a response to a letter entitled “Violations of Taste in Scenery. His response was published on Dec. 21, 1884, the “Chicago Tribune” in the Amusements section (page 24). Enjoy.
AMUSEMENTS.
Why Scenery in Chicago Theatre is Shabby and in Bad Taste.
THE DRAMA.
A Reform in Scenery.
An article on the subject of scenery which was published in these columns last week protested chiefly against outraging the fundamental principle of dramatic art by mingling real with unreal conditions, and incidentally pointed out other violations of taste in matter of stage accessories. In this connection a local scenic artist writes an interesting letter wherein he supplements criticism by facts from the workshop and throws light upon the practical phases of an aesthetic question. From what he says it must be plain that artistic scenery is likely to be revived only with the stock system, and that many of the present abuses are to be attributed to the vulgar ambitions of mercenary motives of managers. Any idea that will occur to many after considering his statements is that the names of scenic artists should be put on the programs of the theatres. The letter, which in the opening sentences draws the inferences that are somewhat strained, is as follows:
“Chicago, Dec. 19.-[Editor of the Tribune]-
“As there was nothing in the dramatic line during the last week which calls for particular attention – no plays worth discussing and no acting of any consequence- the subject of scenery must be lightly touched upon.”
This is the introduction to an article in the amusement column of last Sunday’s Tribune, headed, “Violations of Taste in Scenery,” which reads as though the writer did not consider the matter of scenery to be of sufficient importance to be noticed on its merit, but simply as a means of filling his space, lacking other material.
It seems too bad that so important an element of theatrical representations should be considered to be so little of general interest, but it is a sign hopeful for scenic improvement that he has taken occasion to write on the subject whatever the cause of his doing so. He has evidently given it considerable thought, and in the right direction too. The points he makes are all true, but he possibly errs in his location of the responsibility for “violations of taste in scenery.”
He says that “since Mr. Irving’s tour through this country managers have awakened to the importance of providing the stage with suitable accessories,” and regrets “that so laudable an intention cannot be fully carried into execution.” Why not? Who is to blame? If the managers are desirous of mounting plays in an elegant manner, why don’t they do it? Because the public don’t appreciate it. And as managers conduct their business for profit, they are naturally not disposed to spend money in producing art work which will not be noticed by the public or by the press.
For eight years at one of the theatres in this city plays were mounted in a manner superior to that of any house in America and the painting was not excelled in the world. Yet it is doubtful whether 5 per cent of the play-going public of Chicago were aware of the fact – well known and universally conceded by the entire theatrical fraternity. Probably not 1 per cent of the patrons of that house knew the name of the artist or cared. The newspapers certainly took no great pains to direct attention to him or his work.
Every person in this country at all interested in theatre, whether he has ever been in New York, or not, from frequent newspaper repetition is familiar with the fact that plays are magnificently mounted at the Union Square Theatre. Here is a case where the newspapers and the public value genuine art work, and the management, finding that it is looked for an appreciated, is willing to spend the money necessary to produce it; and the artist at that house, with his three or four assistants (each a competent artist), has three months, and sometimes more, in which to get up the scenery of a piece. How is it in this city? Three or four days is the usual time left after the ‘scene plots’ are placed in the artist’s hands, and he considers himself lucky if he gets a full week.
But this is not the worst difficulty of the artist. Canvas and lumber are expensive, and the manager is not willing to provide them; consequently, the artist is obliged to use the old stuff. A general overhauling is made of the stacked-up scenery, and anything will do which is near the size of what is required – the shape doesn’t matter. It is put on the frame and it is the artist’s business to paint a row of tents on a square piece of stuff and get along the best he can. Of course, no artist can alter the form of the set piece to deceive the public. It is still obtrusively a square piece of framework and canvas. The same set pieces have done versatile duty in most of the theatres here for years.
Again, the traveling combinations get most of the money that comes into the house, and if they cannot draw on their own merits the manager feels that it is not justifiable business policy to increase his expenses when this will not add proportionately to his receipts. How can the public expect proper scenic mounting under such circumstances?
If the newspapers in this city would notice scenery in detail, giving proper credit to the artist, naming him when he does something well, and condemning him if he does something badly (if it is his fault, which the dramatic critics should take pains to ascertain) they would soon and that the public eye would be turned in the same direction, and managers would then be glad to do what your dramatic critic thinks they are now anxious to do, but which they are not.
As long as the public pass unobserved as artistic production and applaud a trick, managers whose business it is to cater to the public will give them what they want. Audiences will clap their hands with delight at a skillful mechanical change of scene or an illuminated boat crossing the stage on “set waters” with the wheels turning around; a locomotive running across the stage, or the moon passing behind the clouds with the flicker on the water – mechanical tricks which have nothing to do with art. They don’t care anything about art. They don’t know it when they see it. Was Malmsha appreciated here while he lived?
A boxed-in parlor, with a multiplicity of angles loaded with “properties” like a bric-à-brac shop, pleases the public, therefore pleases the manager, and consequently has to please the artist. It goes that way, anyhow, whether he likes it or not.
An artist may paint an arch ever so characteristic and beautiful. Nine time out of ten his manager or the manager of the visiting combination will insist upon hanging curtain in front of his architectural work. The draperies borrowed from some furniture store and the elegant brass rods which sustain them must be displayed to their best advantage, and the protests of the artist are unheard.
No matter how an interior may be painted, if it is literally covered with elegant borrowed furniture, covering all the character in the scene, the “set” delights all. No matter how elegant and artistic the scene may be, without this trumpery it attracts no attention from anybody, and this is the first time any newspaper in Chicago has noted this. The artists are glad of it, even though it has been made the occasion for an undeserved attack upon their taste.
In Europe and in the leading theatres in the East the scenic artist has entire charge of everything that makes up the stage picture, limited only by the requirements of the “business” of the play. This properly and naturally, should be the case in this city, but practically he is overruled just enough to call forth the objections of right-thinking and discerning critics. Your dramatic editor has got the correct idea, and he has only to note violations of taste and encourage managers and artists by also noting exhibitions of taste as they occur, and he will influence the theatre people to take such care as in the Eastern cities.
Could the managers be assured of the same recognition of true art work as the Union Square Theatre constantly received there is no doubt but they would be glad to make the same efforts here, and the public would then find that the artists are here, and have been all the time, and it is not their fault nor their lack of ability that has prevented the proper mounting of plays heretofore. If the artists now in Chicago could have the opportunity of producing anything like what we are capable of doing the discerning public would be astonished at their artistic ability, now practically latent.
It is undeniable that our people have made great strides in art culture in the last few years, and if their attention is properly directed in the matter there is no doubt but that they will soon become as appreciative of true art in stage pictures as they are now in home decorations.
-H. C. Tryon
On the same page of the “Chicago Tribune” article above, an announcement reported, “Apropos of the subject of scenery, The Haverly Theatre recently burned a large number of old “sets,” their destruction being the only guarantee that they would not at some time be pressed into service.” (21 Dec 1884, page 24).
To be continued…
A repainted nineteenth-century set piece at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville is an example of Henry C. Tryon’s statement: “A general overhauling is made of the stacked-up scenery, and anything will do which is near the size of what is required – the shape doesn’t matter… The same set pieces have done versatile duty in most of the theatres here for years.”
