Author: waszut_barrett@me.com

Today, I included a small excerpt from “Staging a Sandstorm” by Wendell Phillips Dodge in installment #191 of “Tales of a Scenic Artist and Scholar: Acquiring the Fort Scott scenery collection for the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center.” However, this really needs to be read in its entirety as just it made me laugh out loud again. The following article is from The Theatre, Volume 15, 1912 and was posted in Mrs. Daffodil Digresses, “a blog about costume, history and social ephemera.”

STAGING A SANDSTORM By WENDELL PHILLIPS DODGE

“The busiest actor on the stage of the Century Theatre, where Robert Hichens’ drama, ”The Garden of Allah,” is still attracting large crowds, is the sand man. Though he occupies the centre of the stage only about one-fifth of the time that it takes Lewis Waller to give Boris Androvsky’s long soliloquy, he nevertheless grips the audience more than any other incident in the play.

While the sand man does not appear in the cast, still he is very much in evidence behind the scenes. For his one big scene he requires the entire stage from the foots to the back drop, from wings to wings and from the boards to the flies; and for his quick-change dressing-room he must have the great thirty-foot deep pit, the breadth and depth of the stage itself, which extends under the stage. For his “make-up” he requires almost a ton of dry colors for the ground alone, and no less than three hundred pounds of powder for the high lights. In making up he has to use eight tables, and is assisted by thirty dressers in putting on his costume. His “make-up” is put on with the aid of a dozen powerful electrical blowers, in order to give the right blend, and his costume is made to fly before the breeze by an electrically-driven stage gale that would make the winds of Chicago’s lake front seem like a gentle summer’s night air ripple. He makes his entrance at top speed and keeps on moving in a whirling-dervish sort of a way throughout the scene, occupying the centre and every other part of the stage at once and all the time until the close of his speech, which is the most heart-body and-soul-rending in the whole play, filling the minds and hearts of the audience with all the emotions that exist between earth and sky.

In order to stage the sandstorm in “The Garden of Allah.” in spirit and in truth, George C. Tyler, of the firm of Liebler and Company, went into the heart of the great Sahara Desert, accompanied by Hugh Ford, general stage director, and Edward A. Morange, of the firm of Gates and Morange, scenic artists, and laid siege to an actual and ferocious sandstorm which they captured and have transported in all its fiery temper to the Century Theatre, New York.

Mr. Tyler sent his automobile to Cherbourg, and from there the motor trip into the desert began. At Marseilles, they embarked on the Ville d Oran, a small boat, to the African coast. After a rough passage the party reached Philippeville, from which point they put out for the Sahara. On the road between El-Arrouch and Le Hamma the sight of the “devil wagon” spread consternation, once entirely demoralizing a caravan, causing a stampede of camels. After some hours of speeding over the sands of time, the party passed El Kantara. Another hour and they arrived at an oasis in the centre of which lies the city of Biskra. Here they met Mr. Hichens, and after a reading of the dramatization of his novel amid the true atmosphere suggested in the book, they started out to reach the heart of the desert. Their’s was the first automobile that had ever penetrated the sands of the Sahara, and this it did to such an extent that on one occasion it sank so deep it took six donkeys and a camel to pull it out of the hole it dug as it plowed through the sand, embedding itself deeper and deeper with each drive. They were no sooner out of this difficulty than they ran into a real sandstorm.

“We had been gone from Biskra a short three hours,” said Mr. Morange, “when we began to find it necessary to put on our goggles and raincoats to protect our bodies from the sand, lifted and swirled around by intermittent, playful gusts of wind. Looking at” a herd of camels, probably an eighth of a mile away, we noticed that different groups of them would suddenly be veiled to our view while others to both sides would be perfectly visible. Turning to look at the low hills that stand out dark against the sands in front of them and darker still against the sky beyond, we saw faintly what appeared to be steam, along the surface in various shapes, rising from the sands as they approached the dark hills, and veiling them until they, the sky above and the sands in front melted into one even tone of light, misty, yellowish gray. Around the veiled mass the sun was shining. A feeling of discomfort, not unmixed with anxiety, possessed our party as the bright sun, with which we started out, disappeared. To move our jaws but slightly found us grinding sand with our teeth, and we instinctively tied our handkerchiefs around our heads, covering our nostrils and securing some protection for the mouth. We could no longer pick out the road that but a few moments before was well defined by the ruts made by the mail diligence that regularly struggles between Biskra and Touggourt. The shifting sand had been blown over the road as snow might obscure a highway. We had gone to the desert for ‘atmosphere’ and we were getting it with a vengeance.

We stopped the car, as we all agreed that it would be dangerous to proceed. From the direction from which we had noticed many little whirling steam-like gusts appear, we were now startled by the appearance of a huge irregular cloud, probably a hundred feet in width, moving rapidly toward us. A curious feature of it was that the bottom of it seemed to clear the ground, often rising and sinking alternatively. The color of the cloud was much darker than that of the sands around it. It was of a rather dirty yellowish red, but very luminous in quality. A half dozen camels that we could dimly distinguish, crouched or knelt, huddled together, stretching their necks close to the ground, their heads turned toward the approaching cloud. “The edge of this cloud, nearest to us, seemed entirely independent of the surrounding atmosphere, but as we were directly in its path, we instinctively closed our eyes, crouched in the automobile and turned our backs on it, as one would a blinding onslaught of snow and sleet. We were conscious of a hot, stinging sensation in the parts of our flesh exposed and a peculiar whistling, swirling rush of something passing over us for a few seconds. When I partially opened my eyes. I realized that it was almost as dark as night. When it grew lighter, we found ourselves in a yellowish, smoky fog of fine sand. We had to wait for probably fifteen minutes before the air cleared sufficiently for us to distinguish objects fifty feet away. Protected in the car as well as we were, we were still half-choked with sand. Little piles of sand were heaped up in front of the wheels and in all places that would allow them to form, as drifts of snow might pile. At this moment, we fully realized the oppressiveness of this dreary waste, this awful ocean of seemingly boundless sand.”

The question now was how to transfer the real, living sandstorm to the stage of the Century Theatre. Stage sandstorms date back more than twenty years, when one was introduced in Fanny Davenport’s production of “Gismonda.” This sandstorm, naturally, was very crude, since in those days there was no such thing as light effects nor stage mechanism. The players themselves created the sandstorm by tossing handsful of Fuller’s earth over their heads to the accompaniment of the rubbing of sandpaper in the wings to give the suggestion of wind blowing. Belasco put over the first realistic sandstorm in “Under Two Flags,” causing Fuller’s earth to be blown through funnel-like machines from the wings, while at the same time stereopticon cloud storm effects were played on gauze drops. Mr. Belasco also introduced the now famous bending palm to stage sandstorms, to convey the idea of motion. Once when “Under Two Flags” was produced in San Francisco the local stage manager told the property man to get something that could be blown across the stage, to be used in the sandstorm scene. There was not time for a scene rehearsal, but the property man connected a “blower” made out of a soap box with the ventilating system, and as the cue was given, tossed heaps of flour into the box to be blown over the stage. The play ended right there, with scenery and everything covered as if a blizzard had struck the place! It required weeks to get the flour off of the scenery, to which it stuck and hardened. Last year Frederic Thompson introduced a sandstorm in a scene showing the Western Bad Lands, sawdust being blown from the wings. But the sawdust scattered everywhere, even into the orchestra.

Messrs. Tyler and Ford found no bending palms in the storm they witnessed and encountered on the Sahara, so no bending palms appear in “The Garden of Allah” sandstorm. Yet motion is suggested by other means—the robes of an Arab going across the stage waving, the sides of the Arab tent flapping in the wind, the garment of Batouch, Domini’s servant, fluttering when he emerges from the tent to tighten the anchorage rope to the windward. Besides these things, there is the whirling swirling sand forming real sandspouts, such as have never before found their way on the stage.

To create the actual whirlwind that blows the sand at the Century Mr. Ford installed under the stage a series of powerful electric blowers, and connected these with pipes leading up through the stage flooring at carefully planned points of vantage. One set of pipes is located by the left-stage tormentor near the front of the tent, and another on the other side of the proscenium by the right-stage tormentor. There is another set of these pipes hidden behind the tent towards the centre of the stage, and still another set back stage. The pipe sets consist of four pipes such as are used for drain-pipes on houses, of different heights and with the openings placed at slightly different angles. Under the stage alongside of the electric blowers are two rows of troughs, one on either side of the stage, into which a dozen men feed the “sand,” which is forced up the pipes and blown at a rate far exceeding that of any windstorm ever experienced on land or sea! In all there are twenty blowers, arranged in four series of five each. Another single blower is placed in the left-stage tormentor and blows only air, to dispel the continuous streams of sand blown through the pipes by the other blowers. The pipes are so placed and arranged on the stage as to provide a continuous whirling swirl of sand, never ending, never-ceasing, ever increasing in its fiery fury, until the storm quiets down and the light of day brightens the scene.

Mr. Ford placed the pipes at different angles so that each one would send a stream of sand that would cut and dispel the stream from another pipe, thus obtaining a continuous spiral sandspout instead of a streak of sand like the tail of a comet from each pipe. Also, the three sets of pipes used for creating the sandstorm are started and worked alternately, beginning with the set in front of the tent, then the set at the right side of the proscenium, and finally the set beside the tent, towards the centre of the stage. This alternate movement gives the swirling effect that makes the storm real. The one set of pipes placed back stage behind the tent, however, shoots straight across the stage in order to give a cloud of mystery and add density to the scene.

About three hundred pounds of sand is blown through the four sets of pipes at each performance. This is kept from blowing into the auditorium by means of an “air curtain” at the foot lights and at the first entrances, enough pressure of compressed air to keep the “sand” back. The sand used is nothing more nor less than good old cornmeal! Three hundred pounds is wasted at each performance—enough to feed a whole ranch!

Cornmeal was resorted to after everything else, including sand itself, had failed to blow and act like sand on the stage. Real sand from Fire Island beach was first tried, but besides being too heavy to be kept swirling in the air, it did not look like sand when the lights were thrown on it. Real sand on the stage when the lights were thrown on it as it was blown across the stage looked like so much soft coal soot.

The heaps of sand on the stage, forming the minor sand dunes, and also the ground of the desert, are composed of ground cork, painted an orange yellow. Cork is used because it is clean and dustless and easily handled.

To light the sandstorm, Mr. Ford uses only the footlights, the central portion being a deep orange with a deep blue on either side. This keeps the heart of the storm, so to speak, in the light, and the edges are blended away into the darkness at the sides of the stage, providing not only absolute realism, but shadings that suggest the most delicate of pastels. The wonderful lighting of this scene shows the varying color emotions of the desert, with its sand dunes of the palest primrose, and the purple fury of the desert storm.

Stereopticon storm cloud effects are thrown on the sand curtain formed by the cornmeal slung across the back of the stage by the pipes put there for that purpose, and on a gauze curtain just behind, from arc-lights placed on two lighting tops built on either side of the proscenium.

To obtain the delicate pastel light effects of the sandstorm and of the other desert scenes in “The Garden of Allah,” Mr. Ford first painted the scenes with stage lights using the remarkable switchboard of the former New Theatre for his palette, and the clouds of cornmeal as his canvas. In that way, having the true picture of the sandstorm, which he had himself seen in the Sahara in his mind, he achieved what no one else ever has done before—he has, “in spirit and in truth,” transported the sandstorm of the desert, with all its multitudinous shades and shadows, feelings and emotions, to the stage.

I stumbled across this article in another post while doing research: https://mrsdaffodildigresses.wordpress.com/tag/sahara-desert/

I encountered a wonderful historical article while researching Edward A. Morange. It was posted in a blog about costumes, history, and social ephemera, called “Miss Daffodil Digresses.”

“Staging a Sandstorm” by Wendell Phillips Dodge (1912) explores onsite research for Gates & Morange’s “The Garden of Allah” designs. The stage version of Robert Hichens’ drama, “The Garden of Allah,” opened at the Century Theatre in 1912. To stage the sandstorm in “spirit and in truth,” George C. Tyler, of the firm of Liebler and Company, went into the heart of the great Sahara Desert, accompanied by Hugh Ford, general stage director, and Edward A. Morange, of the firm of Gates and Morange, scenic artists. The article provides some interesting descriptions for nineteenth-century sandstorm effects on stage.

Here is a small excerpt as it is just delightful to read. I will post the full article in its entirety at www.drypigment.net

The Theatre, Volume 15, 1912

“The question now was how to transfer the real, living sandstorm to the stage of the Century Theatre. Stage sandstorms date back more than twenty years, when one was introduced in Fanny Davenport’s production of “Gismonda.” This sandstorm, naturally, was very crude, since in those days there was no such thing as light effects nor stage mechanism. The players themselves created the sandstorm by tossing handfuls of Fuller’s earth over their heads to the accompaniment of the rubbing of sandpaper in the wings to give the suggestion of wind blowing. Belasco put over the first realistic sandstorm in “Under Two Flags,” causing Fuller’s earth to be blown through funnel-like machines from the wings, while at the same time stereopticon cloud storm effects were played on gauze drops. Mr. Belasco also introduced the now famous bending palm to stage sandstorms, to convey the idea of motion. Once when “Under Two Flags” was produced in San Francisco the local stage manager told the property man to get something that could be blown across the stage, to be used in the sandstorm scene. There was not time for a scene rehearsal, but the property man connected a “blower” made out of a soap box with the ventilating system, and as the cue was given, tossed heaps of flour into the box to be blown over the stage. The play ended right there, with scenery and everything covered as if a blizzard had struck the place! It required weeks to get the flour off of the scenery, to which it stuck and hardened. Last year Frederic Thompson introduced a sandstorm in a scene showing the Western Bad Lands, sawdust being blown from the wings. But the sawdust scattered everywhere, even into the orchestra.”

Ah, the trials and failures of show business. “The Garden of Allah” would use cornmeal for their sandstorm scene.

I did locate another article New York Times on July 13, 1911 (page 9) called “Return From The Desert.” It was titled “Ford and Morange Visited Scenes of ‘The Garden of Allah.’”

Here is the article: “Hugh Ford, general stage director for Liebler & Co., and Edward Morange, scenic artist for the same firm, returned to New York yesterday on the Minnetonka, after spending some time in the Desert of Sahara with George C. Tyler, general manager of the firm. They, with Mr. Tyler, made a trip to visit the scenes of Robert Hichins story, “The Garden of Allah,” a dramatization of which is to be the first Liebler production next season at the Century Theatre. The party made its headquarter at Biskra, the Beni-Mora of the novel, and made many expeditions into the desert. Several Arabs were engaged to come to America to take part in the production. After leaving Algiers Mr. Ford and Mr. Morange visited Berlin to obtain material for “The Affair in the Barracks,” an adaptation of “Barrackenpluft,” which is to be another Leibler production next year. While in Paris the party spent several days in consultation with Mme. Simone, who will begin her first American tour next Fall, appearing in English in Louis N. Parker’s adaptation of Rostand’s “The Lady of Dreams.”

Finally, the scenic designs for “The Garden of Allah” (Sketch of North African Expedition), 1912, are located in the Gates and Morange Collection (Billy Rose Division) of the New York Public Library. The designs for the production include a color sketch on stock depicting an exterior scene with camels.

To be continued…

Here is Mrs. Daffodil’s link: https://mrsdaffodildigresses.wordpress.com She has covered several interesting topics, including “How to Make Stage Thunder and Lighting: 1829-1900” and “The Great Grampus Bath-house Tragedy: 1875.” According to the site, it is a blog where “you will find a feast of fashion hints, fads and fancies, and historical anecdotes.”

It was in Chicago during 1894 that Edward A. Morange would meet his eventual business partner, Francis “Frank” Edgar Gates. During the day, they would study fine art and in the evenings they would paint theatrical shows. Later, his brother Richard Henry Gates would join the team. Frank and Richard Gates received their academic training at the School of Fine Arts, Washington University, St. Louis. “The Scenic Artist,” Vol. 1, No. 8 (December 1927, page 8), noted “they were practically brought up on theatre from almost infancy, being in a family of theatrical managers, musicians and actors, it was natural that the stage should appeal to them.”

By 1897, Frank, Richard, and Morange, founded Gates and Morange Studio. Although Gates and Morange had worked on many projects together, their first Broadway credits date from 1897. Thhe scenic studio of Gates & Morange was to become one of the premiere scenic studios during the early twentieth century. Although starting in Chicago, they soon moved their company to New York to produce settings for dozens of Broadway shows. Their first Broadway credit in 1897 was “Straight from the Heart” by Sutton Vane and Arthur Shirley. Other clients included Liebler Co., Florenz Ziegfeld and George C. Tyler. Artists that worked for their firm included Thomas Benrimo, William E. Castle, Charles Graham, Alexander Grainger, Arne Lundberg, and Orestes Raineiri. The New York Public Library holds the Gates & Morange Design Collection (1894-1953), containing original set designs, curtain designs, olio designs, trade show designs, and several exhibitions.

Although many of the designs are undated, the bulk of the collection appears to be from the 1920s. Among the more than seventy-five production designs are “The Daughter of Heaven” by Pierre Loti (c. 1912); “Dolci Napoli” (c. 1913), “Earl Carroll Vanities” (1923), “For Valor” by Martha Hedman and H. A. House (1935), Gridiron Club productions (1935), “An International Marriage” by George Broadhurst (c. 1909), “The Lady of the Lamp” by Earl Carroll (1920), “Music in the Air” with music by Jerome Kern and Designs by Joseph Urban (1932), “Nancy Brown” (c. 1903), “Song of the Flame” by Herbert Stothart ad George Gershwin, with designs by Joseph Urban (1926), and a number of Ziegfeld productions. Of particular note is “Rose-Marie” by Otto Harbach and Oscar Hammerstein II (1924), which includes three photographs, showing development from an initial concept to the scenery in place on the stage (1924).

There are also a few studio plans and research materials in the collection. The collection is located in the Billy Rose Division on the third floor at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts, Dorothy and Lewis B. Cullman Center. Here is the link for the collection overview: http://archives.nypl.org/the/22927

Gates & Morange’s non-theatrical projects included reproductions for the United States Government of Yosemite, Yellowstone National Park, Glacier National Park, the Grand Canyon, Alaska, Kilauea and many other National Parks.

The studio’s artists constantly took advantage of painting from nature, to attain primary information for various commissions. They had research files from trips throughout the United States, Alaska, Europe and Africa. This provided the artists opportunities to observe various landscapes, customs, and people. They made colored studies and sketches to collect valuable data that was used for their theatrical productions. In 1912, Gates and Morange traveled to the Sahara Desert, accompanied by Hugh Ford, general stage director, to research an actual and ferocious sandstorm for their upcoming show at the Century Theatre in New York.

The 1927 “Scenic Artist” article about Gates & Morange concluded with, “It is refreshing to know that here is one studio housing a large staff of academically trained artists that has kept pace with the insurgent movement with its radical and liberal tendencies, which has been at work in recent years in the theatres of Europe and America. That Gates & Morange have accepted what is sane and beneficial of this movement is readily seen by the numerous beautiful compositions covering the walls of their design rooms and bulging out their portfolios. Through them all is seen the sureness and artistic simplicity that only an artist of thorough and correct draughtsmanship, with a fine decorative feeling, a profound knowledge and delicate sense of color and imagination could create. The present possibilities of producing pleasing or bizarre effects with the highly perfected and easily operated electric equipment of the modern stage, has opened the theatre to the many experiments and fadist illusions that none but an experienced scenic artist could endow with poetical beauty and mystery they exhibit. With all these the stage has not lost its glamour for these artists as the many new ideas and effects around which authors and composers may write plays or revues, upon the initiative of these creators of things novel and beautifully interesting.”

To be continued…

Part 189: Thomas G. Moses with Edward A. Morange

The final artist that accompanied Thomas G. Moses, John H. Young and Hardesty Maratta on their sketching trips in 1883 was Edward A. Morange. At the time, Morange was working as the scenic artist for the Grand Opera House in Chicago. He would later work as a scenic artist for the Academy of Music and New National Theatre in Washington D. C., as well as, the National Theatre in Baltimore, Maryland, prior to establishing the studio Gates & Morange.

Born in Cold Springs, New York during 1865, Morange was trained at the Art Institute of Chicago and the Corcoran School of Fine Arts in Washington. D.C. His early leanings and ambitions toward architecture and civil engineering were set aside for a career in scenic art and design. Fortunately, he had an opportunity to secure a position in a scenic studio and later with the Grand Opera House in Chicago. The pictorial appeal of scenic art called to him and he remained with this theatrical profession.

However, his involvement in the performing arts would not solely focus on scenery production. In 1914 Edward A. Morange was be listed as the Director for a silent movie, “The Great Diamond Robbery, “ a six-reel film was assembled by the Playgoer’s Film Company of New York City. Wallace Eddinger starred as detective Dick Brummage in a case involving a Brazilian adventurous (Gail Kane) and the theft of the fabulous Romanoff diamonds. When Detective Brummage proved Kane’s guilt, she took poison. The film was based on the play by Edward M. Alfriend and A. C. Wheeler.

On March 20, 1914, the New York Tribune published, “At last a theatrical manager has put on a legitimate drama, with a cast composed entirely of screen novices, but stage veterans. The resulting motion picture more than justifies the effort…’The Great Diamond Robbery’ is a melodrama which was produced in New York about twenty years ago, when it ran for about a year in the American Theatre. It is adorned with regular melodrama features, such as a beautiful villainess, a working girl heroine and gallant detective, who foils assorted criminals and marries the working girl. But the story is nevertheless one that holds attention.”

Morange had an extremely interesting life, but little is available in terms of his family and private affairs. He married in the 1890s and had two children, Julia and Leonard. Only five years after the debut of his movie, Morange would lose his son, Leonard Sowersby Morange, to the war. A WWI aviator, Leonard would be the first Bronxville resident who died during WWI. Leonard was noted as an expert piano player who could hear a song once and repeat it. His obituary noted that Leonard was inspired by Jerome Kern, a fellow Bronxville resident and longtime friend of his father Edward A, Morange. It is recorded that Kern wrote “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” in the Morange home and had hoped that Leonard would return home from the war and possibly join him in musical venues. This interesting fact was recently reprinted in the “Journal Sentinel” on May 24, 2014 (“RAF pilot was 1st Bronxville resident killed in WWI.” May 24, 2014).

In 1930, Edward Morange was still listed in the census as an artist, working in the scene painting industry. At the time, he was sixty-five years old and living with his wife Julia (b. 1867) in Bronxville, New York. The census listed that they also had a maid who lived with them. By 1940 Morange was living at 80 Sagamore Rd. in Eastchester Town, Westchester County, New York.   He was now with his daughter Leila (b. 1904), her husband Leland Hanson (b. 1899), their two children Joan (1930) and Lealand Jr. (b. 1931), and two servants. In 1955, Morange died on the even of his ninetieth birthday.

To be continued…

After the failure to complete the Spectatorium for the 1893 World Fair in Chicago, Hardesty G. Maratta was released from his contract with Steele MacKaye. He traveled with Frank C. Peyraud (1858-1948) to Peoria, Illinois, where they completed two public painting projects and several private commissions. They were contracted to paint murals and decorate the interiors of both the pubic library and City Hall. One of the library murals was titled “View from Prospect Heights.” The 20-foot by 11-foot mural painted for Peoria’s library presently is stored in the vault of the Lakeview Museum.

The landscape depicts a meandering river and Peoria Lake with marshlands and a few islands. The composition shows the landscape before the construction of levees, a lock, and a dam in 1939. One of the Peoria City Hall murals was titled “Peoria, August 29, 1831” to commemorate the founding of the town. They also created fine art works for the library, some that still hang in the current boardroom. Here is a link to two paintings: http://old.library.eiu.edu/artarch/displayall.asp?LibraryID=749

Peoria newspapers hailed Peyraud as “Illinois’ foremost landscape painter” who had produced artworks for the Union League Club, the Flanagan House, and the Peoria Women’s Club. Unlike Maratta, Peyraud stayed in Peoria for three years and offered art lessons for young aspiring artists. He stayed until his wife (also a fellow immigrant from Switzerland) passed away in 1899. Peyraud he found love again in 1906 with fellow artist Elizabeth Krysher. Kyysher was a children’s portrait painter and illustrator. Early on in their marriage, the couple traveled from California to the East Coast. In Old Lyme, Connecticut, they even stayed with a colony of impressionist landscape painters. The couple eventually settled in north-suburban Ravinia, Illinois (a section of Highland Park) in 1919. In 1921, Peyraud traveled back to Switzerland for three years.

I have previously touched on Maratta’s partnership with Peyraud in Peoria in the February 2, 2017 www.dry pigment.net post. In light of Maratta’s and Peyraud’s scenic art connection with Thomas G. Moses’ it is worth recapping a little information about this fascinating Swiss immigrant. Peyraud was a notable Impressionist landscape artist who would also work as a scenic artist with Thomas G. Moses during the 1890s.

François “Frank” Charles Peynaud was born in Bulle, Switzerland and received some early artistic training at the l’Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris. He traveled to the United States in 1881 and soon decided to stay, settling in the Chicago area. He would remain in this region for the majority of his life. Peyraud first applied for work as a draftsman at the architectural firm of William Le Baron Jenney. Historians have suggested that he did not receive any work due to his poor English. However, he started working as both a scenic artist, on cycloramas and panoramas. Very little is known of his early years in Chicago, but in 1891, Peyraud touched up Paul Philippoteaux’s panoramic painting depicting the Battle of Gettysburg.

It was Peyraud, Maratta, A. J. Rupert, Harry Vincent, Thomas G. Moses, and a number of others artists painted who William Hawoth’s “Flag of Truce” in 1892. By the way, the original script is still available at the University of Chicago (in the Charles Morton Agency Collection of American Popular Drama 1842-1950, Box 35, folder 2). Peyraud worked with Moses in the theatre during 1892 and 1893.

By the mid-1890s Peyraud was noted for his impressionist style, often depicting dramatic skies at dawn, sunset, or moonlight.

His fine art was exhibited at the Art Institute of Chicago, the National Academy of Design (NY), the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts (Philadelphia), the Corcoran Gallery of Art (Washington, D.C.), the Pan-Pacific Exposition (San Francisco) and many other exhibits too numerous to mention. His paintings remain in a variety of collections worldwide, including the Art Institute and Union League Club of Chicago, the Municipal Collection of Phoenix and the Art Museum of Bulle, Switzerland. In 1935 the conservative Association of Chicago Painters and Sculptors awarded Peyraud a gold medal and he was widely regarded as the dean of Chicago landscape painters.

Peyraud won the Young Fortnightly Prize for the best painting in the Chicago Art Institute’s 1899 annual show. It was the first of many awards he would receive over the course of his career. Other awards included a Municipal Art League p prize in 1912 and the Art Institute’s Martin B. Cahn Prize in 1921. In 1948, Peyraud exhibited for a final time at the Chicago Galleries Association. He died later that year, on the eve of his ninetieth birthday.

It is Moses’ mention of Peyraud, Maratta and other notable artists that causes me to ponder the significance of Moses writings, scenery, and fine art. His typed manuscript, handwritten diaries and scrapbook are much more significant than the interesting details that provide a glimpse into theatre history. Moses provides eyewitness accounts and context for his contemporaries in an ever-shifting art world.

These artists from a variety of backgrounds worked, traveled, dreamed, and planned together. They were working towards a much bigger picture in the world of arts and sciences. One gets a sense of their personalities, the industries that they worked for, and how fluid their talents were during this golden age of scenic art. Their friendships, social exchanges, moral support, and partnerships went far beyond the realms of mere work or artistic study for the stage. They played and brainstormed together about future possibilities for not only themselves, but also later generations.

To look at Moses’ creation of the Fort Scott scenery collection as simply a small moment in Masonic or theatre history is shortsighted! It was the culmination of decades of training after interacting with international visionaries. He was part of a patchwork quilt that transcended our own country’s borders.

To be continued…

Hardesty C. Maratta and Frank C. Peyraud were actively involved with Steele MacKaye (1842–1894) and his Spectatorium project for the 1893 Columbian Exposition. Maratta had committed to a fifteen-year contract with MacKaye during the planning stage of the Spectatorium. He was hired to head MacKaye’s scenic department.

The Spectatorium was to be the largest auditorium in the world and part of the 1893 Chicago World Fair. On September 25, 1892, the “Chicago Herald” described the much-anticipated venture: “After months of preliminary work, the initiatory steps for the construction of the biggest auditorium of the world were taken yesterday. A building permit was issued to the Columbus Celebration Company to erect a “Spectatorium” at numbers 1 to 27 on Fifty-sixth Street. The structure is to be six stories in height, 480 by 240 feet in dimensions and of frame and staff construction.” William LeBaron Jenney and W. B. Mundie were the architects of this endeavor, costing over $350,000 for the structure alone. This price did not include furniture, scenery or machinery. In the article, MacKaye was quoted that the undertaking was “the realization of full twenty years of fond dreams and much study in the realm of the spectacular.”

The Spanish Renaissance style building more ground than any other building planned for the fairgrounds. The front extended over 480 feet with a depth averaging 311 feet. The height was 100 feet and included a large dome in the center will be surmounted by a statue of Fame. The theatre would seat 9,200, with ample exits that could empty the house in about half the time of an ordinary theater. The stage proscenium was 150 feet wide with a proportionate depth. The stage was arranged so it could accommodate its flooding with real water at a depth of four feet. The scenery was planned run with wheels on railroad irons, placed under the water. Each piece would be separately controlled from the prompter’s desk. The prompter will only have to push a button and the electric motor would do the work of 250 men. The overall intent was to prevent any mistakes in the shifting of scenes.

Investors included George M. Pullman. E. L Browster, Edson Keith, John Cuday, F. W. Peck, H. E. Bucklene Lyman J. Gage, Murry Nelson, Benjamin Butterworth, C. H. Deere, Arthur Dixon, J. J. Mitchell, Andrew McNally, Franklin H. Head, Ferdinand W. Peck, E. H. Phelps, F. G. Logan, N. B. Ream David Henderson, A. C. McClurg, Andrew McNally, Ben Butterworth, F. E. Studebaker, and other well-known citizens. Newspaper articles published that the gentlemen claimed, “It will be a more pleasing and more talked of novelty than the Eiffel Tower.”

The anticipated production and scenic effects were described in the “Chicago Herald” (September 25, 1892):

“The character of the performances to be given are promised to equal Wagner’s most extraordinary dreams of all that a great dramatic-musical performance should be. The greatest orchestral music, especially written by the best composers, solos and choruses by eminent artists, all Illustrated by brilliant spectacular and. realistic pantomimes, will be presented. The story of the piece to be given will be the life of Columbus and the discovery of America. Ships of the actual size and appearance used by Columbus will be fully manned by sailors in exact reproduction of the characters of those times. The capture of Granada and the procession of Columbus and Isabella to the Alhambra as well as the surrender of Boabdil, last of the Moorish kings, will be especially grand and on an immense scale. The scenery costumes and music will be elaborate and picturesque, and the promoters claim that it will be the greatest of the kind ever attempted.”

MacKaye was and actor, director, playwright and inventor. He was well known for his stage technology, especially his improvements to New York’s Madison Square Theatre where he engineered the “double stage.” This included an elevator the size of a full stage that was raised and lowered by counterweights and reduced scene changes to one or two minutes. By 1885, MacKaye had established three theaters in New York City: the St. James, Madison Square, and the Lyceum Theatre.

Unfortunately, his “super theatre” destined for Chicago was deprived of funds during the panic of 1893. On February 27, 1894, the “San Francisco Call” reported, “The MacKaye Spectatorium has failed and will go into the hands, of a receiver. It has not paid expenses; and with the death of its originator it passes out of existence.”

The dismantling of the Spectatorium was covered in the Chicago Tribune on October 7, 1893. “The Spectatorium, the large pile of steel and wood at the north end of the World’s Fair grounds, which was to have housed the grandest theatrical representations in the world, is being torn down to be sold as scrap iron. The Spectatorium, as yet incomplete, cost $550,000. It was sold for $2,250. The project was that of Steele Mackaye. He broached it first last year to leading capitalists of Chicago and it met with favor. The plan was to build a structure sufficiently large to give a representation of the discovery of America on a scale larger than was ever attempted. MacKaye invented new methods of lighting which promised to revolutionize the methods of stage illumination. The life of the production was to have been a great chorus arranged on the principle of the old Greek chorus. The organization of the company proceeded well. Work was begun, hundreds of men employed, and actors and actresses contracted with and put on rehearsal. The Spectatorium failed and went into the hands of a receiver June 1.”

It was reported that MacKaye blamed the failure on “bad weather, labor troubles, a tight money market, and an article declaring the project a failure, which prevented the disposition of the company’s bonds.” Then Building Commissioner declared that the Spectatorium must be torn down as it was dangerous. It took two hundred men, thirty days, and $15,000 to clear the site and remove the 1,200 tons of iron. The lumber was repurposed for sidewalks and the building of small cottages for working people.

To be continued…

One of the best internet sites that I have encountered for information pertaining to Chicago events, structures and people is “Chicagology.” Here is the link: https://chicagology.com/ The site provided some lovely images from the planning and initial construction of Steele MacKaye’s Spectatorium.

Today I look at Hardesty Gilmore Maratta (August 22, 1864-October 1924).  His birthday was yesterday, August 22 – 153 years ago. He also enters the Thomas G. Moses’ story at this point.

Thomas G. Moses and John H. Young continued to study art and go on sketching trips throughout 1883. Traveling companions and other fellow artists included Edward A. Morange and Hardesty G. Maratta (August 22, 1864-October 1924). Moses wrote “we certainly had some good trips.” He elaborated in one entry writing, “We were all working in watercolor. Most of our trips were along the river where we found good material and a lot of adventures – too numerous to mention. One Sunday we were sketching a grain schooner that was ready to leave at the Rock Island Elevator. A tug arrived to tow it from the lake. We objected as we had some work to finish on the sketch. The tug Captain was good-natured and invited us aboard the tug. We finished the sketch and rode out in the lake beyond the water crib some three miles. The Captain brought us back to Washington Street. We were profuse in our thanks and we were also satisfied. It gave the crew something to talk about.”

Maratta was born in Chicago, Illinois. A life-long resident, he studied at the Art Institute of Chicago where he exhibited from 1888 to 1906. He was well known as a watercolorist, scenic artist, newspaper illustrator, color theoretician, and designer of TECO pottery at Gates Potteries in Chicago.

Maratta was one of the artists commissioned by Juan Lorenzo Hubbell, owner of the Hubbell Trading Post at Ganado, Arizona, to copy Navajo rugs, especially the classic designs, in watercolor and oil.  These designs were hung on his walls to encourage the rug weavers working during the duplication of the designs. Maratta studied the coloring of the plains of the Southwest after returning from his time abroad.

Maratta painted in California during the late 1890s. Some of his artworks remain in the Santa Fe Railroad Collection, Delaware Art Museum, Wilmington; Fogg Museum, Harvard University; and the Hubbell Trading Post Museum, Ganado, Arizona.

Maratta also made a name for himself with the color scale. While he was while cleaning several paintings by Guido Reni, he first became convinced that color harmony was a well-known science from long ago; he just happened to rediscover these ancient Greek rhythms.

In an article titled “Color Scale,” published in Railway Master Mechanic Vol. 31, 1907 (pg. 301), Maratta was interviewed. He was quoted, “I began studying this subject when I discovered the analogy that exists between color, music, architecture, and chemistry. Music is a division of sound into harmonic ratios; architecture a division of space into harmonic ratios, and chemistry the division of elements in the same manner.” The “Color Scale” article continues, “The blending and harmonizing of shades and colors were so exact in each of these that he does not believe it could have been accidental. Examination of pictures by other old masters confirmed his belief…Harmony of color, heretofore depending solely upon the training and taste of the individual handling of pigments, has been reduced to an exact science as the harmony of music. This assertion of a great principle, forming the foundation for all art in which colors are used, is made by Hardesty G. Maratta, a Chicago artist, who has devoted the last twelve years to its solution.”

The basis of his approach was also explained in the 1920 publication, “Arts & Decoration, Vol. XIV, No. 1. The author explained the color system of Maratta, writing that any system of beauty, whether it is created or follows a system, is built upon rhythm (Nov. 1920, pg. 1).

When Maratta finally decided to devote all of his time to the study of color, he first experimented with fire-resistant colors, making many burnt clay pictures. Then he went into the factories where paints where made and studied them there. The article notes, “for a year, to demonstrate his theory, he painted stage scenery, using only three primary colors – yellow, red, and blue.” He then applied for a color system patent.

From a theatrical context, Hardesty C. Maratta and Frank Peyraud were actively involved with Steele MacKaye’s Spectatorium project. Maratta had a fifteen-year contract with MacKaye, which “the failure of the scheme and MacKaye’s sudden death left null and void” (The Critic, June 27, 1896, pg. 427). I’ll explore this topic tomorrow.

To be continued…

In 1883 Thomas G. Moses wrote that he attended the Chicago Art Institute and “painted from life at Rupert’s Studio every Sunday.”

Adam John Rupert was born in Ft. Plain, New York, during 1854. At the age of eighteen he moved to Chicago, Illinois. Two years later, he was working for P. M. Almini as a fresco painter and met Moses for the first time. Rupert studied at fine art studios and traveled abroad from 1876 to 1880. He was a student at the Royal Academy in Munich and also the Academy of Design in Chicago.

Moses initially reconnected with his old friend on his return in 1880. By 1882 Rupert was hired to teach for the Academy of Fine Arts in Chicago every afternoon during winter term. He established a fine art studio that Moses visited every Sunday. Moses greatly revered Rupert and even named his second son after him.

He bought one of Rupert’s paintings in 1885 titled “My Studio.” It measured 34” x 54.” That same year, Rupert exhibited artworks at the inaugural reception and exhibition for the Western Art Association. They held their show at the Chicago Art Institute on the corner of Michigan Ave and Van Buren Street where a lot of collectors participated in the event. For this show, Rupert had exhibited three pieces “The Violinist,” “The Tramp” and “Discouraged Vestal” (Chicago’s “Inter Ocean” on Jan. 23 1885, page 5). Rupert also participated in the 1888 Chicago Art League Exhibition at Art Institute of Chicago. By 1889 he opened a studio at No. 59 Honore Block in Chicago and soon exhibited at the Chicago Society of Artists. In 1891 his artwork was featured next to those of Walter Burridge, Herbert E, Butler, L.S.G. Parker, Frederick Freer, and Joseph Jefferson (the actor). Other exhibitions for Rupert at the Art Institute Chicago were held in 1898, 1900, 1906, 1915, 1917 and 1919.

In 1892, Rupert, Moses, Harry Vincent and Frank Peyraud worked together to create the settings for William Haworth’s (1860-1920) production called the “A Flag of Truce.” William was Joe Haworth’s younger brother. From the very beginning Joe shared his success as an actor with his family, sending a generous portion of his pay back to them in Cleveland. This money enabled William Haworth to stay in school and attend Annapolis as a naval cadet. However the theatre also called to William. In 1882, it was John McCullough (Virginius lead mentioned in installment 181) that gave him his first professional opportunity.

By 1886, William was acting at the Union Square theatre in support of Helene Modjeska. He eventually left New York and after two years of touring, returned with a completed play, “Ferncliff.” The play was set in Providence, Rhode Island, during the Civil War with ten characters. It opened at the Union Square Theatre in 1889, the same time as Bronson Howard’s “Shenandoah.” It was unlike “Shenandoah,” however, as it lacked the spectacular reenactments of battles and was much more of a domestic drama with comic elements. Here is a great link for further information about the “Ferncliff” production: http://www.josephhaworth.com/union_square_theatre.htm

Haworth reworked “Ferncliff” to become a companion piece to “The Ensign,” a plot set in Havana and involved the ploy of two British officers provoking Capt. Charles Wilkes into a quarrel to delay his interception of the “Trent.” Based partially on factual events from1861, Capt. Wilkes seized two Confederate emissaries to the British government on the vessel “Trent” while on the sea. The incident nearly caused Britain to declare was on the North. In the play, Wilkes eventually escapes the firing squad by the personal intervention of President Lincoln. The production was reported to be an exceptional spectacle.

The “Flag of Truth” opened in New York at the Fourteenth Street Theatre during 1893, the show toured to Plainfield, New Jersey, and then played in Trenton. It now included a thrilling rescue in a quarry that involved a real derrick onstage. Throughout the next decade, Haworth’s Civil War plays were almost constantly performed, often in repertory. For more information about William Haworth and his brother Joseph, here is a good link: http://www.josephhaworth.com/his_brother_William.htm
By 1904 Rupert was part of another spectacle. He worked on an amusement for the St. Louis World’s Fair by Henry Roltair called “Creation.” Rupert and George Schreiber were the assistants to Frank Peyraud for this project. Advertised in the Chicago Sunday Tribune (May 29, page 20) it commented, “the scheme is a deep secret. A great dome covers transformation scenes representing the creation of the world with dioramas showing what man has created in the world.” Taking two hours, a boat trip travelled around the big blue dome that illustrated the works of God during the six days of creation. Other side trips in boats included the scenic vistas of the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, and Alaska that allowed visitors to travel back into prehistoric time to primitive man. Another boat ride entered a labyrinth that depicted ancient countries and cities, including Egypt, Assyria, Greece, Rome, China, Japan, Spain, France, and England. The cost for this adventure was $0.50 for adults and $0.25 for children. I could not help but think of Spaceship Earth in Walt Disney World’s Epcot. But the twentieth century ride paled in comparison to what was offered to 1904 visitors at Roltair’s “Creation.”

On the fraternal front, Rupert was a member of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows and the Maccabees.

To be continued…

Thomas G. Moses worked in Racine, Wisconsin, at the Belle City Opera House until in March of 1883. During March, he also worked for another opera house. The Journal Times (Racine, Wisconsin) reported that “Thomas Moses, the scenic artist, who painted all the handsome scenes at the Blake Opera House, departed for Illinois to-day. During his stay here Mr. Moses has made many warm friends, who wish him every success, wherever he may go” (14 March 1883, page 2). He then headed to Marengo, Illinois for another painting project. Initially named Pleasant Grove, Marengo was a city in McHenry County. The present name originated from the Battle of Marengo fought on June 14, 1800 between the French and Austrians.

Thomas G. Moses’ family was able to join him during his final weeks in Marengo. Although his typed manuscript does not specify his project in Marengo, it was for the opening of the town’s first opera house. In April of 1883, the Marengo Opera House was completed at the expense of $30,000. Julius Cahn’s Official Theatre Guide listed “Thos. Moses” as the scenic artist responsible for the painted settings. The theatre was located on the second floor with a proscenium opening that measured 20’ high by 25’ wide. There were three sets of grooves that measured 16’ high. There was one portable bridge and the grooves could be taken up flush with the fly gallery. The depth under the stage was 5’ with two traps, located back of center stage.

On August 3, 1883, “The Marengo Republican” published, “Few people are aware that Marengo has one of the finest opera houses to be found in the country. Not so large as Rockford, yet it has six hundred and sixty opera chairs, besides two handsome opera boxes (not mere shelves) and space for one hundred and fifty camp chairs in the spacious aisles. It is in all its appointments a model of neatness, convenience and comfort; is easy to access; well lighted; the private boxes elegantly finished; the acoustic properties excellent, and arrangements for heating and ventilation first class.”

After a lecture by Mr. Henry Ward Beecher in the Marengo Opera House, the newspaper published, “Wednesday evening, the house was crowded with as select an audience as we ever saw anywhere, at least 800 persons being present, and the scenery, the beautiful frescoing on the wall and ceiling, the variety of color and figures, all brought out with startling boldness under the brilliant glow of seventy-five gas jets, presented a scene highly pleasing and attractive, and one at which even the most prominent preacher in America felt gratified and honored.”

Beecher expressed “his delight and surprise at finding so elegantly appointed an opera house in a town the size of Marengo, and agreed with what must be a universal verdict of all who visit it, that the Marengo opera house, erected by the unaided private liberality of one citizen – R. M. Patrick – is a monument to his good taste and public spirit, of which every citizen of Marengo should be proud.”

After Marengo, Moses and Graham traveled to Oshkosh, Wisconsin, here they were going after a contract.

This would have been for the Grand Opera House located at the corner of High Avenue and Market Street. It first opened its doors on August 9, 1883 and the first production here was called “The Bohemian.” Perry Landis of Sosman & Landis in Chicago was also providing an estimate for the job. Moses and Landis rode back together on a train bound for Chicago. Sosman met them upon their arrival. The studio wanted Moses and Graham in the Sosman & Landis studio and each were offered $45.00 a week.

Moses wired Graham their proposal as he was in Burlington. Graham was not so eager to accept, however and countered “$50.00 and extras.” The studio agreed and May 1, Moses. Graham and John H, Young were painting in the Sosman & Landis studios. Ed Loitz also joined their team and the studio continued to expand. Unfortunately, the boys were given a lot of “road work” to paint, and were not thrilled with this particular type of project, but the money was steady. Moses was able to rapidly increase his salary as he started to accept after-hour projects, averaging $70.00 per week.

Moses wrote that he accepted a lot of night work, although it was mostly piecework. He soon was sent on the road to complete a job in Eau Claire, Wisconsin.

That would have been the Grand Opera House (1883-1930). In 1883, an opera house was planned for this bustling city of 15,000 serviced by telephone, gas and electric. Streets were lit with both gas and incandescent lamps and four railways serviced the city. Eau Claire was the major stop between Chicago and Minneapolis-St. Paul. Wayne R. Wolfert wrote “Theatre in Eau Claire, Wisconsin: A History of the Grand Opera House (1883-1930)” published by the University of Wisconsin-Madison 1972.

Moses’ family visited him in Eau Clair and they all ventured north for a family trip to Minneapolis.

To be continued…

Part 183: Will the Circle Be Unbroken

“I was standing by my window,
On one cold and cloudy day
When I saw that hearse come rolling
For to carry my mother away

Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, lord, by and by
There’s a better home a-waiting
In the sky, lord, in the sky”

(1935 Folk song by A. P. Carter)

On December 15, 1925, Thomas G. Moses wrote a letter to his daughter-in-law Stella after learning that her mother had passed away. Understanding Moses’ great regret for having lost his own mother at such a young age, the following letter is especially poignant. Here is his letter in its entirety:

“My Dear Stella,

I just received the sad news, please accept our heartfelt sympathies in your days of sorrow. One of the greatest burdens that God asks us to bear is the loss of our Mothers. There is nothing that touches our heart in our every day life like the sorrow brought upon our mothers by some inconsiderate child, and the admiration we have for a mother in her love for the child is something that draws us to all mothers.

Your mother’s life will always stand out like a beacon light: a wonderful inspiration to all those seeking the light. A most consistent Christian woman that sought to do for others, in spite of her affliction, accomplished many worthy acts that will ever live in the hearts of all that knew her. The work is richer having had her with us. Her life will remain in the minds of your girls as one of pure love and sacrifice: a guide for Eleanor in her chosen work and one of sweet memory to all who had the pleasure of calling her friend.

From your sympathetic Father Moses.”

Moses’ eldest son Pitt married Stella Martin of Trenton, New Jersey on March 18, 1903. In 1906, they had their first child, Eleanor. The couple would have two more daughters over the years. Pitted worked for Moses’ brother Frank in the gas industry and business was booming.

Children and then grandchildren initially came back to the Moses home in Oak Park, Illinois, to celebrate Christmas and other family events. As the years flew by, it became more and more difficult to gather all the children home. In 1914, Moses wrote, “Would like to have the children and grandchildren every Christmas. We have a big house to entertain them, and I feel sure they all like to come to the old house, at least once a year.”

Looking back to 1888, Moses wrote, “I was tired of travelling and wanted to remain at home with my little family.” Almost thirty years later in 1917, Moses would write, “Pitt came out for a short visit and for the first time in twenty years, we had only the four children at home for a dinner. They were not allowed to mention their families. We sat each in their accustomed place. We all enjoyed it immensely. It carried us back many years when we were all much younger. I wish we could do it every year.”

Moses missed many family events while he was traveling across the country for work and sketching trips. As he grew older, every interaction with family became a precious memory.

“There are loved ones in the glory, whose dear forms you often miss. When you close your earthly story, will you join them in their bliss? Will the circle be unbroken, by and by, by and by? Is a better home awaiting in the sky, in the sky?” (Original lyrics for 1907 hymn by Ada R. Habershon and Charles H. Gabriel)

To be continued…