Author: waszut_barrett@me.com

Frank Atkinson described the painting techniques for shiny fabrics, noting that the configuration of the folds was of lesser importance to the reflective quality. He writes, “Thus satin, with its large, sufficiently remarkable folds, is distinguished still more by its singular brilliancy and the beauty of its reflection.”

In other words, the brush strokes that denote the final highlights are of the utmost importance for reflective fabric. As previously discussed for dull materials, the shape of the fold and suggestion of texture was paramount. This was not necessarily the case with shiny fabric where the placement of the highlight becomes crucial. A good example of this technique is depicted in the front curtain for the Masonic Theater in Grand Forks, North Dakota.

The painted front curtain’s highlights are indicative of the specific fabric. Interestingly, the lightest color does not simply follow the fold but frequently crosses it, catching the light.

This light color may be placed as jagged lines, some even placed at an angle across the fold. It is the placement that creates visual interest and suggests the reflective characteristics of the material. Furthermore, the painting of gathered, or Austrian draperies, also use an interesting highlight at the seam. In some cases, the highlights are painted in loops that indicate the puckering along the gathered line.

It is this particular application of highlight that allows the audience to immediately identify the fabric and understand its unique characteristics.

This now brings us to the patterns placed on either dull of shiny draperies. There is also process to create pattern on ornamental decoration on draperies. Many painted curtains with incredibly complex patterns do not necessarily alter the shape as they cross the deep recesses and peaks for each fold. Simple shapes need to follow the shape of the fabric whereas complex designs do not. For a standard stripe, the scenic artist will carefully follow the curvature of the material, reinforcing each rise and fall.

If the print is complex, one only needs to accentuate the highlight. For the painting of complex patterns of draperies, a stencil could be applied over the entire area of the fabric drape; it does not have to conform to the shape of each fold. Placing the appropriate highlights and shadows on the pattern allows the eye to successfully translate the overall appearance from a distance. It will appear as though the pattern is moving with each fold, even though it doesn’t. This is the same approach as with the broken lines that visually tie it all together.

To be continued…

In 1916, Frank Atkinson wrote the book, “Scene Painting and Bulletin Art.” As part of a discussion on the painting of drapery, he wrote, “The imitation of different fabrics depends chiefly upon the character of the folds.” In other words, the drawing of each fold is crucial when suggesting a specific fabric for the painted composition. Additionally, the brush strokes would define whether the fabric is rough, smooth, dull, or brilliant. The painting technique would denote the material’s texture as “coarse or fine.”

The first consideration in drawing the curtain depicts the thickness and weight of the fabric as suggested by the drawing of curtains. So to make a thick and heavy curtain, the folds are sift and heavy. At the Fargo Scottish Rite, the treasure chamber setting included rugs and other velour curtains.

Similarly at the Salina Scottish Rite, the scenic artists again added the soft and heavy folds characteristic of red velvet or velour.

The salmon curtains at the Yankton Scottish Rite differs in folds and technique, the curtains are thin and lightweight, possibly representative of silk; crisp folds with sharp peaks. The matte highlights are wide and solid, differing from the fine squiggly lines of sateen and other shiny materials that present an almost reflective quality.

In addition to the drawing of folds and paint application is the color palette and which colors are applied as the initial base coat. For dark fabrics of rich jewel tones, there is deep base applied to the entire area. Van Dyke Brown, deep red, Prussian blue or malachite green. After applying a deep base, the mid-tone color designates the folds. Finally the highlight accentuates each rise, contrasting with the deep shadow. The division of the value attributes to the final depth of the folds. For a fabric that is somewhat lighter in color, the mid-tone is used as a base color and the application of the darkest color defines the folds. Finally, wide highlights accentuate the height of each fold.

There is a certain value where using a dark base transitions to a light base. Also, the amount of mid-tone placed on a dark base or a dark placed on a mid-tone base that defines the color of the drapery. By the time a curtain is intended as a cream color or lighter, the base is the lightest color. The mid-tone is applied second and the darkest third. Typically, these two shadows are placed after the light base and include both a warm and a cool wash, reinforcing the depth in the recess of each fold.

To be continued…

There is an historical approach to painting drapery for any stage composition. A simple technique that allows an artist to create artfully draped fabric. Just like broken lines that suggest a hung tapestry, there is a standard and simple approach. For the next few installments I am going to examine a variety of scenic art techniques for painting drapery.

Frequently, the fabric is painted using only three colors: dark, mid-tone, and light.

The darkest color represents the crease in the fabric, or the folds. The mid-tone represents the actual color of the drapery. Finally, the highlight is placed within the mid-tone area and is never placed directly next to the darkest color, or shadow area. There is always at least a thin sliver between the highlight and shadow.

If you look at the painted details, three colors are the standard approach for the foreground painting of draperies. For the mid-stage and backstage compositions, only two colors are used to suggest the fabric folds.

This approach is similar to the painting of patterns, fringe, and other decorative details on the draped material; they often use two only colors. The lighter color is solely placed to reinforce the existing highlights on the folds. The darker color is placed in the recesses.

For example, if you examine the white fringe of the yellow canopy, there is simply a dark color for the base. This defines the overall shape of the trim. The highlight color gives the fabric and trim dimension. Again the composition was intended for viewing from a distance, so the division of color and contrast is crucial.

Preserving the past does not solely imply the handling and conservation of specific artifacts. Sometimes, it refers to the study and application of a historical technique. As artists we always observe composition, light, space, and the work of others. For me, there is a constant exploration of various techniques to expand and fine-tune my own skill set. I am always looking for examples to use in the future, tucking away my observations for possible use artistic endeavors. Then the time comes when I search my memory and recall a way to paint a current project. I page through my sources and locate an example to use as a resource or inspiration.

Recently, I was asked to paint two small tapestries for an opera set in Duluth, Minnesota. The scenic designer was a good friend of mine and it had been several years since we had an opportunity to work together. As soon as I saw the design and venue, I remembered the 27th degree for the Scottish Rite depicting a Gothic Interior with tapestries hanging on the wall. I also remembered an historical backdrop from the Chicago Lyric Opera collection that had been on display for USITT.

I had observed this same unique scene painting technique for both commercial and fraternal designs, suggesting tapestries on the stage. It involved the painting of horizontal broken lines across the composition. From the audience, it made the painting appear as a tapestry. Typically, the lines were painted in van dyke, burnt umber, or a cool neutral and spaced ½” – 1” apart. The key was not to paint in a solid line, but use a broken line and allow the viewers eye to fill in the gaps.

A similar technique used a dashes line. This also provided the impression of texture for the fabric. Once example of this particular dashed-line technique was the front curtain in Grand Forks, North Dakota. Personally, I felt that this particular technique did not read as well from a long distance since the paint application was too even.

As a side note, broken lines always read as more natural and less graphic. However, there is a balance in the actual paint application. You have to consider how far the break needs to be or how solid to paint the line. Solid lines that are too solid and long, even for grouting in brick walls, look odd and formulaic.

The Tapestry technique also included the creation of swags in the fabric. In these situations, shadows and highlights were painted into the tapestry to suggest slightly bunched up areas. This meant that the horizontal lines would be painted with a slight curve over each bump – a very effective illusion.

Eventually, a dry-brush technique replaced that of individual lines to suggest tapestry.

My research suggests that this practice was started around the 1920s. It would make sense, as this was the same time that a lot of the studio practices shifted under the guidance of new leadership as many studio techniques were streamlined. Another example if how netting was attached to cut drops. Before the 1920s, netting was attached with individual dots of glue on each knotted intersection. Late, those that glued netting to the backs of cut drops and leg drops used huge swaths of glue along the edge. Many of the changing techniques were the result of decreasing labor and saving time to complete a drop. Therefore, dry brushing was a quick way to get a similar tapestry effect.

To be continued…

I recently came across a debate that concerned the refinishing of antique furniture. There were a series of online discussions started by individuals who wanted to give antiques a more contemporary “feel” for upscale residential homes. The debate ensued as this was going against all advice given by the “Antiques Roadshow” experts. How many times have your heard, “Don’t strip and refinish that antique? Below is one of many statements concerning the proper handling of antique artifacts.

“Never Paint or Refinish Furniture

You should not refinish wood furniture is if the piece is a valuable antique or a unique designer piece that, although not an antique, nevertheless has a lot of value. It’s always a good idea to look for any designer markings on old furniture and to do an Internet search on it before you refinish it. An antique will diminish in value if refinished improperly, and your best bet is to contact a professional in antique furniture preservation.”

Wow. I immediately thought of the destruction of the Fort Scott collection and a subsequent loss of shared heritage. This above statement could be rewritten to apply to historical scenery collections:

“Never Paint or Refinish Historical Scenery

You should not remove the original wooden battens and replace them with pipe pockets is if the scenery collection is a valuable example of theatrical heritage or the work of a significant designer. It is always a good idea to look for any scenic studio stencils and documentation, as well as doing an Internet search on it before you alter it from its original condition. An historical drop will diminish in value and significance if restored improperly, and your best bet is to contact a professional in the field of scenery preservation.”

The Fort Scott collection was significant from the fact that its production occurred during the final Scottish Rite building boom and was solely produced by one scenic artist. As the Fort Scott collection can no longer be viewed in its intended venue, the historical significance solely remained in the original construction, painting, and stage hardware. As the majority of these significant aspects have been stripped away, it has lost much of its significance. All that remains is the preservation of historic painting techniques by one artist. It can no longer be presented as a nationally significant collection as it almost been altered beyond recognition.

It is like a painting an original Chippendale chair and turning it into something else entirely. As with the antique chair, the Fort Scott drops are now a pale remembrance of their former selves.

To be continued…

When I evaluated the Milwaukee Scottish Rite Collection, I encountered tags noting that it had been flame proofed and tested in 1995.

There were burn marks on many of the stage right sides of the drops. The holes were about eighteen inches up from the stage floor and the size of a dime.

This has been a continued battle for decades as Scottish Rites become public rental facilities and cannot rove that the scenery was originally flame proofed. In some regions, a Fire Marshall will insist that the historic scenery get sprayed with a flame retardant.

I understand that fire codes exist for a reason. There is the need to implement safety regulations to protect both the audience and performers. However, I have observed that the application of todays flame retardant on dry pigment scenery alters the painted surface. Cracks appear and the color begins to flake off.

This is an area of study that I have been waiting for an opportunity to explore. A series of test really needs to occur before another collection is sprayed and possibly destroyed. The Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center May 5, 2017 online article notes that a solution of fire retardant was applied to the drops. I wondered about the product that was used and if it will interact with the dry pigment over time.

In Fort Scott, the idea of applying a flame proofing formula to this collection greatly concerned me and I knew that it would have to be addressed at some point prior to hanging the collection. As the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center was a new public performance space, the facility would have to follow current fire codes. While on site in Fort Scott, the crew and I decided to do a fire test on remnants that had come off one of the sky borders. We were all curious to see how quickly the fabric would ignite if exposed to flame.

We went to the parking lot across the street from the Fort Scott Scottish Rite. All of us believed that the old and dry fabric would immediately burst into flames. We lit the corner of our sample on fire and it took quite a while before the fabric began to ignite. Then the flame lessened and within seconds died out, leaving only a burnt edge on our sample. We all looked at each other in surprise and then someone said, “Do it again!” We repeatedly lit our small piece of fabric to see if it could stay lit. Each time the flame was extinguished within a few seconds. We could not successfully light this piece of fabric that was over ninety years old! I was thrilled as the test both proved that the scenery had been originally treated with flame retardant and that it was still working.

Now would this hold up to today’s safety standards? Possibly not, unless an argument could be made that the flame retardant would irreparably damage the painted surface of this historical artifact. The fact that the drop didn’t burn certainly says something about the effectiveness and longevity of the traditional techniques. Once again, I was flabbergasted by how well these painted scenes survived the test of time.

To be continued…

There are some things that are not considered “picture worthy.” I think it simply depends on who is taking the photo. A close friend of mine took a picture of the boiler in the basement of a Scottish Rite and it is a haunting image. She captured the rust and decay that had settled in over the decades and the image is a work of art.

I took a photograph of the old elevator at the Fort Scott Scottish Rite. It might not be considered art, but it to recorded a detail from this deceased Scottish Rite facility. The new building owners might not save this aged machine as current safety regulations could prohibit its continued use. I both loved and feared that elevator, becoming intimately familiar with it as I transported supplies up to the second floor theatre. The entire crew knew exactly how fast it could ascend to the second floor. After pushing the button, we could race up the thirty-seven-step curved staircase and arrive before the doors would even open. It was extremely slow and every trip became a gamble. Every time the door closed I wondered if we would get stuck between floors. As in McAlester, the metal gate had to be completely shut before the contraption would move and inch. Regardless of my fears, there was something nostalgic about that elevator. I was transported back in time whenever the door shut and the motor began to whirr, jarring the elevator into motion.

The entire building was a treasure trove of memories, filled with forgotten bits and pieces from the past. When I arrived on site during November 2015, the stage area was quite unkempt. The building had been vacant for over a year and there were piles of unwanted items scattered throughout the building.

These were all remnants from the previous year’s auction that liquidated almost all of the building’s contents. However, this rubbish did not detract from the former beauty of the stage and shadows of its former glory were still apparent. I could look beyond the grime, imagining the space with new wooden arbors and the shiny cable.

As I glanced at old stage equipment, it was difficult not to imagine standing under brand new scenery and border lights; the smell of fresh mortar, the scent of cut wood, and the acrid tang from new metal filling the space. An historic stage fills me with a yearning to experience the era of its creation.

As the weights were pulled from each arbor to remove a drop from the corresponding line, I was reminded of skeletal remains in a crypt. This rigging system had once been something quite special; effortlessly raising or lowering painted settings at a moments notice. The stage machinery had transformed the stage and once transported generations of men to far away lands. Now that the scenery was gone, leaving the counterweight system useless and out of date. It would eventually become disposed of as scrap metal.

Perhaps that is why both Rick Boychuk and I salvaged complete rigging sets from the Fort Scott theater. Not as simple souvenirs or personal mementos, but to save a theatrical landmark in the evolution of stage design and machinery. The intricacy of an arbor could provoke a conversation so this technology could be remembered in the future.

It is now difficult for me to separate the painted scenery from the rigging as they are both so entwined in my mind, two halves of a whole. For me, the landscape above the stage is almost as exciting as those painted scenes below.

To be continued…

Here is a link to Rick Boychuk’s work http://www.counterweightrigging.com/

There was a service staircase in Fort Scott that ascended to the space above the auditorium ceiling. We accessed it through a door at the end of the arbor rail that led to a steep metal staircase.

Before ascending the steps, I looked up to my left and marveled at the square plates of alabaster stained glass. These were some of the decorative elements on the sidewalls of the auditorium. When illuminated, they provided a warm glow to an otherwise dark room.

Climbing up the narrow staircase, we first explored the areas high above the proscenium arch and ceiling medallions. Our first trip was to identify possible access points to the wooden grid above the stage. Our last trip was attempting to access the neighboring Western Insurance Company roof as we had noticed a tree growing up there. Every day during our break, we had marveled the young sapling and wanted to see how it had taken root.

Typically, the spaces above an auditorium and stage hold a plethora of interesting artifacts left behind by the original workmen. You never know what is hidden beneath layers of dust and chunks of plaster. In addition to abandoned artifacts left during construction, maintenance men, stage crews, and office staff also stashed many unwanted items in these storage areas. For me, the discoveries found high above the theater often rival those from the stage floor.

We explored a room directly above the proscenium that held the organs pipes and other musical innards that were noted as a “patented universal air chest system” by Austin Organ Company. In the auditorium, there was a traditional style organ console with roll top. The Valley of Fort Scott had purchased this organ with three manuals and thirty-six ranks for $15,000 in 1924.

By 2007, a newspaper article estimated the current value at two million dollars. I was amazed by its pristine condition and beautiful woodwork.

The label for the Austin Organ Company of Hartford, Connecticut was especially intriguing as it placed a lute and compass in a similar arrangement as a Masonic square and compass. A banner over this image included the company’s motto, “Scientia, Artem, Adjuvat,” or “Science Aids Art.” Was Austin a Mason? Various articles note that this motto was not just a clever marketing scheme, but a way of life for the founder and his employees. Many of the machines that manufactured organ parts were kept on site so that the production, maintenance, and repair of every model could happen immediately. One example is the famous “seven-headed monster” kept in a front room of the manufacturing plant that produced pedal and stop-action blocks.

The story of the company and John T. Austin, is quite remarkable. As a new immigrant to America, Austin had worked for a variety of organ manufacturers and rapidly worked his way up their ranks with his skill and ingenuity. He actually developed a new type of windchest (he called it an air chest) where you could simply walk right into it and service the complete mechanism. This is what we found in Fort Scott as each of us went inside to examine the organ’s components. Inside the air chest was the motor for the bellows and an electric generator. By the mid-1920s, the Austin Organ company was producing over eighty new pipe organs annually. In 1924, one of these eighty organs became destined for Fort Scott.

The company’s high level of productivity continued until the crash of 1929 when it was hit hard by the economic downturn. By 1937 Austin Organ Co. underwent reorganization and moved to a new facility. Interestingly, their largest on most elaborate model, the Opus 558, would be the company’s first five-manual instrument specifically designed for another Masonic Theater – the Medinah Temple in Chicago.

Company records list that 72 organs were installed in Masonic Lodges across the country. An additional 113 organs were installed in theaters and the list goes on from there. Their client venues included open-air theaters, auditoriums, churches, hotel, stores residence, insurance buildings. I don’t know what category included Scottish Rite performance spaces – auditorium, theater or Masonic Temple? Here is a lovely link for those interested in the history of the Austin Organ Company: https://www.thediapason.com/cover-feature-austin-organs-mil…

A major aspect of many Scottish Rite degree productions is organ music with choral accompaniment. First-class organs were installed in most Scottish Rite theaters and Masonic lodge rooms across the country. Many of these instruments are still revered by national music organizations that plan concerts in these performance venues. Like churches, Scottish Rite auditoriums host organ concerts that draw people in from all over the world.

The Organ Historical Society lists 58 pipe organs at Scottish Rite theaters in its pipe organ database. It also lists 466 pipe organs in Masonic Lodges across the country. Obviously, not every organ in a Masonic building has been included in their database. Unfortunately, there are very few pictures to accompany the database’s technical specifications. If you are a Mason and have a pipe organ in your building, you might want to consider uploading a picture into their database. Here is the link: http://www.organsociety.org/

Behind the organ pipe room at Fort Scott was a partial floor. Standing on ceiling beam, one could see thru the ceiling medallions and down to the auditorium floor.

Nearby was a heavy metal door that was barred shut. Why was it barred? Curious minds needed to know, so my crew muscled it open. Standing high above the stage floor we had a picturesque view of the top wooden battens on drops suspended high above the stage. One of my crew determined that this was where the organ installers brought up the pipes and air chest from the stage floor. This was also how the organ could be removed and transported to another location.

To be continued…

Well-known photographers occasionally capture Scottish Rite spaces. In the case of the Santa Fe Scottish Rite Cathedral, Jesse Nusbaum documented both the interior and exterior of this Moorish Revival style complex in 1912. Nusbaum was also an archeologist and three-time superintendent of the Mesa Verde park from 1921-1946. Many of his photographs are now located in the Palace of the Governors Photo Archives in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Their collection includes an estimated 1,000,000 items, such as photo postcards, panoramas, stereographs, photographs, glass plate negatives, film negatives, lantern slides and many other materials. It is a site well worth investigating. Here is the link: http://www.palaceofthegovernors.org/photoarchives.html

In addition to the images of well-known photographers, Masonic journals and other fraternal publications recorded the extravagant interiors of new Scottish Rite buildings when they were first completed. A 1904 article from “New Age Magazine” details the interior of the new Albert Pike Consistory in Little Rock, Arkansas, including a full-page layout of their new theater with a Sosman & Landis scenery collection.

Contemporary images of some Masonic theaters are also available online, the bi-product of wedding ceremonies, dance recitals, and other community or rental events. Today’s amateur photographers capture the ornate interiors while visiting Scottish Rite facilities all across the country. Luckily, the internet has preserved many of these details that might otherwise fade from public record. I frequently do image searches just to see if anything new has popped in terms of painted scenery collections in Masonic theaters that I have yet to record. While searching for vintage images of the Fort Scott Scottish Rite auditorium, I recently located a Class picture . This image depicts a contemporary group of candidates seated in front of the stage with the grand drape. This might be one of the last images of this dry rotted curtain with the Scottish Rite eagle.

What isn’t documented and available online from Fort Scott and most other historical theaters are the off-stage areas and hidden recesses in the building. These images were often never recorded. They are not located in public archives as the result of professional or amateur photographers. However, there are some in private collections. Luckily, theatre historians and practitioners have documented many “Behind the Scenes” photographs. Stagehands and theatre technicians from touring shows take pictures of lighting consoles, rigging systems, and other stage equipment that they have found fascinating while working at a Scottish Rite theater. The Archiving Technical Theatre History Facebook Group is one of many forums where historical images and information are exchanged by theatre professionals and academics. It is an immediate way to share information and preserve moments from the past. Some of us understand that we cannot wait for either funding or grants to disseminate information. Not everyone has the time or ability to share new discoveries. Action needs to be taken now.

I started www.drypigmet.net for just this reason. After years of collecting information and documenting painted details of scenery, I realized that only a few select individuals had seen my work. I wanted to leave a digital trail and share the information that I had gathered over the years to ensure its survival before being donated to a public archive. It also gave me an incentive every day for some much needed “R & R” – my own term for “research and reflection.” I am the perpetual student, always seeking knowledge and trying to learn something that I did not know the day before. I rejoice in sharing my findings as I decode theatrical heritage and scenic art techniques. Posting various images of buildings, catalogues, lights, counterweight systems, painted curtains and costumes, often leads to other discoveries and future finds. When we do not share our knowledge, many discoveries die with us in a state of isolation. I look at John Rothgeb’s paper at the University of Texas and realize that I simply replicated much of the information he had already uncovered when I wrote my dissertation. He just hadn’t shared much of his research.

Had I just spent one month of graduate school at the Harry Ransom Center, my studies might have advanced to a different level. Yes, it is extremely satisfying having my own conclusions verified by another before I even started thinking about them. Ironically, the missing holes in much of Rothgeb’s research were filled by my discoveries and vice versa. Valleys where Rothgeb added question marks were areas that I evaluated and conducted extensive research. It is extremely frustrating to realize that we just missed each other by a few short years. He was passing out of the picture as I was just entering it.

To be continued…