Author: waszut_barrett@me.com

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Two years ago, I was writing about events in the life and times of Thomas C. Moses in 1884. At the time, I was trying to track down information about Henry C. Tryon. Tryon had entered my storyline when he began working at the Sosman & Landis Studio during 1884, filling in for Lem Graham after Graham left to establish a scenic studio in Kansas City.

By 1885, Tryon, Moses and John H. Young went to West Virginia o a sketching trip. Moses described Tryon as “eccentric,” and recorded some pretty humorous episodes about the older artist. While searching for additional information about Tryon’s projects in Utah (this is before he returned to Chicago in 1884), I came across mention of Alfred Lambourne (1850-1926). Lambourne worked with Tryon at the Springvale Theatre Hall. In 1883 Tryon’s younger brother, Spencer, assisted the two while creating stock scenery for the venue.

As I searched for articles in historic newspapers and past publications, I located an interesting description of Tryon by Lambourne in “Reuben Kirkham: Pioneer Artist” by Donna L. Poulton, PhD. Here is a link to her book: https://www.amazon.com/Reuben-Kirkham-Donna…/dp/1599553805. Poulton’s book provided an excerpt from Lambourne’s memoirs that described Tryon.

Lambourne referred to his mentor as “that erratic genius, that Bohemian of Bohemians.” Of his training with Tryon, Lambourne wrote, “…I worked with Tryon about seven weeks. Not on the paint gallery of the Salt Lake theatre, but in one of our southern towns, where we had taken a contract, jointly, for furnishing a set of stock scenery. Those seven weeks were among the most exciting, and from the art standpoint, most profitable of my life. Tryon arrived in Salt Lake City, after a long and successful season of scene-painting in Chicago, and at the Tabor Grand, in Denver. Who, that knew the man, could ever forget that walk, that shock of unkempt red hair, that shrewd ingratiating smile and fun, the enthusiasm, or flash of anger in those steel gray Irish eyes. How distinctly I remember the low suppressed tones of his voice and the sparkle in the same eyes, as he once confronted me and uttered these words: “I have never yet met a man whose combativeness I could not overcome with my own.” However that may have been, we became fast friends and without surrender on either side.”First of all, I find it fascinating that Lambourne not only worked as a scenic artist, but also authored several fictional works. In fact, I have just ordered three of his short stories about scenic artists; original copies are difficult to track down. Lambourne was like many of his peers; nineteenth-century scenic artists enthusiastically wrote about their art, the times, loves lost, and popular stage personalities, providing brief glimpses of life behind the curtain line and the challenges faced by theatre artists.

Lambourne’s memories of Tryon’s combative nature adds a lot of additional color to Moses’s own recollections about Tryon. It is clear that Moses liked and respected Tryon; after all, they planned a sketching trip together in 1885. However, respecting and working with someone is often different than living and traveling with them. Moses provides a peak into Tryon’s personal habits. I previously posted the article that Moses wrote for the “Palette & Chisel Club” newsletter concerning his 1885 trip to West Virginia – see past posts parts 202 to 212 at www.drypigment.net. For now, I’ll start with Moses and Tryon’s departure from the Chicago train station in 1885. Moses wrote,“Henry Tryon and I started for West Virginia on a sketching trip. I had more bother and worry with Tryon than a hen with a brood of chickens; he was simply impossible. A very clever painter but he was not balanced – very temperamental. While he was more than ten years my senior I had to lead him to everything that we had to do for the trip. I went to the B. & O. R. R. Co. and endeavored to secure free transportation. I tried to show them the great benefit our trip would be to the advertising department, as Mr. Tryon expected to write an account for the Chicago Tribune. They had plenty of this advertising, but encouraged us by giving us half fare both ways. We were highly pleased to get this with the understanding that John Young was to follow at the same rate within the week. I had a struggle to get Tryon down to the depot at 5 P.M. – the train left at 5:10. While we were rushing for the sleeper, Tryon stopped – he must get into his trunk which I had checked early in the day. I informed him that we had no time – the baggage was being put on the train. He insisted, so I went with him at 5:05 to the baggage-car. He asked the baggage master to pull the trunk off the truck so he could open it. After much grumbling it was lowered to the platform. Tryon untied the rope, unlocked it and from the top tray took out a fifteen-cent package of Durham smoking tobacco; replacing the rope he informed the baggage-man he was through with it. The baggage-man had been watching him and when he saw what was taken out he made some remarks that would not look well in print. Tryon never lost his temper, so the remarks did not affect him. We had less than two minutes to get to our sleeper, the trunk was thrown on and away we went. I never mentioned the incident again and Tryon forgot it immediately.”

More entertaining tales about Tryon tomorrow.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

On June 19, 2018, I first examined the historic scenery collection in the Tabor Opera House attic. It was rumored to be the original installation from 1879, and I wanted to find something that supported this speculation.  I was traveling with my family from Minneapolis, Minnesota, to Santa Fe, New Mexico. In Santa Fe, I was scheduled to participate in a book signing event for the “Santa Fe Scottish Rite Temple: Freemasonry, Architecture and Theatre,” published by the Museum of New Mexico that spring. Here is a link to the book: https://www.amazon.com/Santa-Scottish-Rite-Temple-Architecture/dp/0890136335/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=waszut-barrett&qid=1604502787&sr=8-1_. The book signing was scheduled for June 24 at the Santa Fe Scottish Rite, so we only had a few days to linger on trip there.

While traveling across the country, I documented historic scenery at several venues, including the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado. We pulled into Leadville on June 18, having scheduled a quick stop at the Tabor Opera House, before heading to Twin Lakes and Independence Pass. The next day was my 49^th birthday, and I decided to treat myself to a morning in the attic at the Tabor Opera House. Although this greatly excited me, I did not ask my husband and son to join me, as their excitement for historic theatres was rapidly waning.  In the attic, I carefully shifted flats piled against a far wall, encountering a surprise as each layer was unveiled. My husband and son were scheduled to pick me up at noon, so I had only a few hours to get a sense of what was hidden below piles of dust and debris.

In addition to marveling at the painted compositions, I examined the back of many pieces for clues. Often, there is more information on the back than the front. I look at fabric weave, construction techniques, mill stamps, studio stencils and basic graffiti. A “Boott Mills” stamp appeared several times on the backs of both borders and wings. 

One particular piece caught my eye – a stage right wing. Additional information on the Boott Mill stamp included “Standard Sheetings. FF. 40 yds.”

The painted composition and construction indicate that the wing functioned as a grand tormentor in the 1880s. It was part of a pair; the stage left wing now missing.  The wing was constructed to roll, unlike other wings in the attic. Also, the corresponding shutters for the wings that did not roll, commercial flat sheaves dating from 1888. The rolling hardware on the wing was unique, using a sash pulley to roll the unit. Unlike flat sheaves, sash pulleys were readily available from local suppliers for standard building construction. Keep in mind that when the Tabor opera house was built, all of the materials where shipped in by stagecoach; the railway had yet to reach Leadville. On January 22, 1880, the Denver and Rio Grande was the first railroad to reach Leadville, with the Tabor Opera House officially opening in November 1879.

Furthermore, the quality of the fabric, the frame construction, and hardware of the extant wing, all indicate that this piece was part of the original collection, prior to the arrival of the railroad in Leadville. Regardless of the exact manufacture date, the wing pre-dates most other attic scenery that was painted and signed by T. Frank Cox in January 1888.

There is a second factor to consider about the orphaned wing. The painted composition dates from later than its original construction. The painting matches a complete interior setting that was also stored in the attic, with some flats showing signs of repainting. Repainted scenery was commonplace throughout the nineteenth-century. Wings, shutters and borders were “washed down,” effectively removing the water-based paint from an existing flat before being repainted with a new scene. Scenic Studios also advertised shipping painted scenes for existing frames. This saved the travel and expense of an artist working on site at a theater, as well as the expense of new frame construction. Repainting existing scenes avoided the exorbitant costs associated with purchasing an entirely new stock scenery collection.

As far as the history of Boott Mills…

Boott Mills was established in Lowell, Massachusetts, along the Merrimack River. Located twenty-five miles northwest of Boston, Boott Mills initially operated with hydropower, a waterwheel powering the line shaft that ran the length of the factory floor. Leather belts that operated each loom were attached to the line shaft. Steam engines soon replaced the original water turbines, and mill operations later transitioned to electricity.

The Lowell area boasted an extensive group of cotton mills, built alongside power canals constructed during the early nineteenth century. Boott Mills was situated near the Merrimack Canal, the first of many power canals in Lowell. By the mid-nineteenth century there were approximately 150 mills operating in Lowell, an astounding number that specialized in a variety of products.

Prior to the Industrial Revolution, most American mills were designed to produce a turnkey product, specializing in only one aspect of textile manufacturing. Raw Cotton had to be cleaned, spun, carded and wove into cloth. Once the cloth was completed, the material was shipped to other companies that manufactured specific products. Later, cotton bales arrived at a mill and were turned into cloth in the same location, going through the process of cleaning, spinning, carding, rolling and weaving on site. Technological advancements in the weaving industry resulted in the power loom. The power loom was responsible for the mass production of textiles.

In America, Paul Moody developed the first successful power loom by 1816, working for Francis Cabot Lowell at Waltham mills. Moody later ran the Merrimack Manufacturing Co. in Lowell. Kirk Boott (1790-1837), namesake of Boott Mills, was the first agent and treasurer for the Merrimack Manufacturing Company.  Boott later built his first mill, initially constructing four buildings in 1835. Over the decades, Boott Mills expanded into a massive complex, shifting from hydropower, to steam, and finally electricity for operations. Like other companies, Boott Mills constantly incorporated new technology to increase overall output.

Ira Draper improved Moody’s design, allowing a mill worker to operate two machines simultaneously. By the mid-nineteenth century, improvements continued and now one mill worker would operate a dozen of machines, greatly increasing the amount of product produced at a mill. As with most factories, profits increased substantially as worker wages stagnated. In short, mill workers assumed more responsibilities for the same wage, allowing overall production costs to decrease while profits dramatically increased.

As with other industries, the textile industry transitioned from an economic system of independent craftsmen to a factory system of mass-produced goods where the role of craftsman was often reduced to that of common laborer. This shift in the textile industry was accelerated during the post-Civil War era when much of the textile industry moved south. New mills were established in areas where labor was much cheaper and cotton more accessible. This meant that southern millworks collected greater profits, investing additional funds in newer technology. Many northern mills did not have the equivalent returns to equip their factories with comparable machinery. By the 1920s, northern mills, including those in Lowell, began to close as they were unable to compete with their southern counterparts.

Boott Mills ceased their operations in 1958, and by the 1960s unemployment in Lowell was among the highest in the country. Throughout the economic downturn, many of the Boott Mill buildings remained standing a decade after the factory closed. By the 1970s Boott Mill buildings became part of the Lowell National Historical Park. For more information about the Boott Mills Museum, visit: https://npplan.com/parks-by-state/massachusetts-national-parks/lowell-national-historical-park-park-at-a-glance/lowell-national-historical-park-museums-and-exhibits/lowell-national-historical-park-boott-cotton-mills-museum/

The Boott Mills Museum features a Weave Room and several informational exhibits. The Weave Room is a scaled-down reproduction of a mill factory floor, complete with working looms. The machinery on display are primarily Draper machines, dating from the early twentieth century. The Weave Room still manufactures cloth for dish towels that are sold in the gift shop. Here is a lovely video of the looms working: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fa/From_line_shaft_to_power_looms.ogv

Other Boott Mill buildings were converted into shops, apartments, condos and offices.

I have already contacted the Boott Mills Museum to confirm the mill stamp usage dates on the Tabor Opera House wing, and am currently awaiting a response. This post at www.drypigment.net will be updated once I have any additional information.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

A small step unit was uncovered at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado, while I was on site from September 21 to 27, 2020. It was clearly identified as part of the setting for Julius Cahn’s production of “David Harum.”  A shipping label from the Globe Express Company noted the intended delivery from Leadville to “David Harum Co. c/o Tabor Grand Opera House, Denver, Colo.”

Why or when the “David Harum” step unit was first placed in the attic of the Tabor Opera House remains a mystery. Was it simple a touring piece left behind, never forwarded to the next venue?  The piece likely dates from 1901-1905; my estimation based on newspaper advertisements, the shipping labels and actual construction of the piece. For over a century, this scenic orphan was hidden in a pile, disguised under a layer of dust, until this fall. 

It is hard not to consider the history of the step unit. When it first toured, how many thousands of people witnessed a favorite stage personality pause on this very piece?  How many stages provided the foundation for the step unit before it was abandoned in Leadville? Although many questions remain unanswered, “David Harum” was an extremely popular piece during the first half of the twentieth century. I knew nothing about this production until my visit to the Tabor Opera House this fall.

There is a famous line from the show that accompanied many 1905 advertisements for the production: “Do unto the other feller the way he’d do unto you. But do it first.” The line was delivered by Harum, a small-town banker from the 1890s. The simple character captivated western audiences, especially when the show toured the western states. Edward Noyes Wescott’s 1898 novel was dramatized for the stage by R & M. W Hitchcock in 1900. At the time theatre critics commented, “There were many misgivings as to the possibility of making a successful play from a story which was so thoroughly a character sketch” (Carbonate Chronicle, 24 June 1901).

The initial touring production starred William H. Crane. Crane continued in the role for a few years before being replaced by William H. Turner. “David Harum” first appeared in Leadville during 1900, then starring Crane. By 1901, Julius Cahn was linked with the touring production of “David Harum” and by 1904, Cahn’s “David Harum” featured William H. Turner at the Elk’s Opera House in Leadville.  That February, the “Herald Democrat” reported, “Mr. Julius Cahn will present W. H. Turner in the dramatization of Westcott’s widely read book, “David Harum,” at the Elk’s opera house next Thursday evening. The play is now nearly three years old, and since its production it has been a phenomenal success. For sixteen weeks it ran in New York, for six weeks in Chicago, for two months in Boston where it proved to be a record beaked in point of attendance, and for six weeks in Philadelphia” (February 7, 1904).

The show returned to Leadville again the following year. On March 12, 1905, an article in the “Herald Democrat” stated, “Mr. Cahn personally superintended the getting up of the production, and paid much attention to its cast…its success has been extraordinary” (March 12, 1905).

On March 24, 1905, and advertisement in Leadville’s “Herald Democrat” announced:

Elk’s Opera House. Wednesday, March 29. Julius Cahn Presents DAVID HARUM.

The Play That Won’t Wear Out. The Epic of the “Hoss” trade. Quaintly Delightful. An Excellent Company.

WM. H. TURNER as David Harum. Mr. Cahn utilizes the same production here as see at the Garrick Theatre, New York. DAVID HARUM SAYS:

“Do unto the other feller the way he’d do unto you.

But do it first.”

Prices: 50, 75 and $1.00. Advance sale

opens Sunday, March 26, as West’s Cigar Store.

Another “Herald Democrat” article reported, “Nearly all of the familiar sayings, quaint philosophy, and amusing incidents of the story are in the play. One of the best things in the book and one of the best things in the play is the horse trade, which takes place in the opening act” (Feb. 19, 1905).

The first act setting was later described in detail: “The opening scene of the play is an exterior. On one side is Aunt Polly’s house with its trellis-covered veranda and old-fashioned garden. On the other is David’s bank, and in the background is the big barn.  In this act Harum sells the bulky horse to Deacon Perkins – the horse that would “stand without hitchin’ ” (Herald Democrat, Leadville, 12 March 1905). David’s horses were kept in the barn.

The “Herald Democrat” noted, “The second act, which is laid in Harum’s bank shows the old chap as a businessman. The act contains the incident of the counterfeit five-dollar bills, the tussle with Bill Montaig, the village tough, and the securing of the mortgages on the Widow Cullom’s home” (Feb. 19, 1905). The setting included the counting room in the back office of the bank.

The third act was placed in Aunt Polly’s sitting room on Christmas. The action included the telling of Harum’s  visit to the circus with Billy P. Cullom and the engagement of Mary Blake and John Lenox. After Christmas dinner the act ended with the comical uncorking of a champagne bottle.

Of the 1905 production in Leadville, the “Herald Democrat” reported, “The company, which is under the direction of Julius Cahn, contains a number of clever character actors, and unless the indications are very much astray they will be greeted by a crowded house for Mr. Cahn will utilize the identical production seen at the Garrick theatre, New York City” (Feb. 19, 1905)

On March 29, 1905, the “Herald Democratic” reported, “The presentation of “David Harum” which is to be made at the Elk’s Opera House Wednesday, March 29, should prove highly diverting…The success of the play has reached an extraordinary pitch, and, judging from the things said of the work, there is no reason why results should be otherwise. The play is clean, it is wholesome, its atmosphere is redolent of the country and its humor is of the healthy kind…In dramatizing “David Harum”, every effort was made to return all of those things which made the book so entertaining. The play is remarkable in one way, and that is, that it has been said again and again by competent critics to be an improvement upon the book. As a rule many dramatizations have failed to thoroughly catch the spirit of the novels from which they were taken. This is not the case, however, with “David Harum,” and it is the most satisfying comedy of its class now before the public. Wm. H. Turner has the role of “Harum” and his work has been praised highly.”

 On March 28, 1905, the “Aspen Daily Times,” provided a little more information about the leading actor in the production, William Turner.  The article reported,  “On Tuesday evening Julius Cahn presents at the Wheeler Opera House “the play of book plays,” “David Harum.” Mr. William H. Turner will be seen as “David. Mr. Turner has been under Mr. Cahn’s management for the past twelve years, during which time he has appeared in many notable Metropolitan successes, scoring personal hits in many productions among which are remembered, Rufus in “Held by the Enemy,” Mr. Austine in “The Faint Card,” Mr. Watkins in “Sowing the Wind,” Black Michael in “The Prisoner of Zenda,” John Wotherby in “Because She Loved Him So,” and Dr. Pettypont in “The Girl from Maxims.”

The story of “David Harum” remained popular for the next fifty years, standing  the test of time and translating to film. The first film adaption occurred in 1915, but Will Rogers later starred in the 1934 version.

By 1936, “David Harum” became a radio serial that lasted until 1951. “David Harum” even became the name of an ice cream sundae, consisting of vanilla ice cream, crushed strawberry, and crushed pineapple, whipped cream and a cherry.

Who knew that such a small scenic piece could tell such a large story.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

The predecessor to cut drops were cut shutters. I had never encountered any until my trip to the Tabor Opera House last month. As an added bonus, the back of each piece was covered with cartoons by scenic artist and architect Tignal Frank Cox.

Leadville’s Tabor Opera House was built by H. A W. Tabor in 1879. Two years later, he opened the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver, Colorado. The renowned Silver King fell on hard times and lost both of these priced possessions. In Leadville, his opera house changed hands a few times during the 1890s.

The Tabor Opera House was renamed the Elks Opera House when the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks (B.P.O.E.) purchased the building in 1901. Immediately after the purchase, the building was renovated. Part of the stage renovation included adding a fly loft, so that new scenery could be raised out of sight. Previously, the Tabor Opera House used wings, shutters, roll drops and borders.

Similar renovations were occurring all across the United States as this time. For example, in 1903, the “Idaho Springs News” reported a similar project: “The opera house will have a new stage and new scenery with which to greet the public at the opening performance. The stage will be enlarged, to be 40 feet high by 40 feet wide by 26 feet deep, which will enable the management to present all scenery carried by the companies. By the increased height the scenery will not roll but slide up. This mean larger shows for the public. The work is now under way” (4 Sept 1903). Two decades earlier, in 1883, the same renovation occurred to the Salt Lake Theatre. Henry C. Tryon, scenic artist for the Tabor Grand Opera House, ventured south and led the stage and scenery renovation. For more information about Tryon and the Salt Lake Theatre’s renovation, see today’s post (https://drypigment.net2020/11/02/tales-from-a-scenic-artist-and-scholar-part-1101-henry-c-tryon-and-the-salt-lake-theatre-renovation-1883/)

In 1902, new scenery was purchased from the Kansas City Scenic Co. for the Elks Opera House in Leadville. Fred Megan, a future business partner of Thomas G. Moses, represented the Kansas City Scenic Co. and secured the contract for new scenery. Kansas City Scenic Co. then subcontracted some of the project to Sosman & Landis in Chicago. The scenery delivered to the Elks Opera House was a massive collection; a substantial investment for the Elks’ new theater. During February 2020 I documented the Kansas City Co. and Sosman & Landis Co. scenery purchased for the renovated stage. This was the first phase of my project. I was hired to complete a condition report, historical analysis, and replacement appraisal for each scenic piece, as well as writing a collections care and management program for the collection.

When the new scenery was installed at the Elks Opera House, all of the older scenery was tucked away in the attic where it would remain for the next century. Occasionally, a piece or two would make its way to the stage floor, but it was not an easy task. Larger pieces needed to be lowered through a small attic door, forty feet above the stage.

From September 21-27, 2020, I led a group of local volunteers for the second phase of the project, documenting the historic stage settings in the attic of the Tabor Opera House. Each piece was lowered to the stage floor and photographed. The most challenging pieces to lower were shutters, measuring 10’-0”w by 16’-0”h.

Several pieces were painted by the well-known theatre architect T. Frank Cox. Cox began his career as a scenic artist and spent over a year in Colorado. In January 1888, Cox painted several scenes for the Tabor Opera House, including these two cut shutters. What is wonderful about these pieces is that they carry his signature and several cartoons. In 1889, Cox traveled throughout Colorado and also marketed himself as a “lightning artist,” producing a series of rapid sketches on the stage.

Cox’s cut shutters were placed mid stage at the Tabor Opera House; down stage of two exterior shutters. Shutters rolled together, a perfect solution for theaters that did not have room to raise backdrops out of sight. Wings and shutters slid on and off the stage in grooves to form scenic illusion on nineteenth and twentieth century stages across the United States.

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

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

The Salt Lake Theatre renovated their stage in 1883, adding a fly loft. Henry C. Tryon left the Tabor Opera House in Denver and traveled south to Utah for this and other projects.

On Feb. 2, 1883, the “Deseret News” presented “important interior improvements” at the Salt Lake Theatre. (page 3). The article reported “Everything is being reconstructed in harmony with the latest and best metropolitan ideas. The immense stock of scenery is being duplicated on new materials. There will be painted 45 “pairs of flats,” 172 wings and set doors, 50 “borders” and “set Pieces ad infinitum. The mere matter of canvass alone will cost over $2,000 and the entire expense will be more than sufficient to build an ordinary theatre. A new “rigging loft” is now being built 15 feet higher than the [resent one, and as soon as it is finished the old one will be torn out and the entire height will be great enough to raise the new drop curtain bodily up without rolling. Everyone of the scenes put upon the stage will have a height of 15 feet greater, and apparently the difference will be still more.”

This was a monumental project and the article continued, “In order to arrange the mechanism and thus gain these advantages, much must be done, and in this case, owing to the necessity of rearranging all the girders, beams and supports of the roof, it requires some nice mechanical calculation, which the ordinary observer even would perceive were he to see the work in progress.” Local architect Henry Grow (1817-1891) was selected for the task, and assisted by William Ridd. He was a Latter-day Saint builder and civil engineer, responsible for the Salt Lake Tabernacle.

The managers of the theater were J. T. Caine, H. B. Clawson and David McKenzie. Of the renovation project, the article noted that Mr. Clawson was personally attending to the work. And, here is the interesting paragraphs to read… “Mr. Clawson is personally superintending all this work and, seeing clearly the result ahead, has entered into it with enthusiasm and vim. He is really the motive power in the affair, and it will be found to be only another example of the fact that he does not trouble himself about small matters, but carries important ones to their full and proper conclusion.” 

Three month later the “Salt Lake Herald” announced that Tryon “was given carte blanch to follow his own sweet inclinations,” in regard to the scenery and stage machinery renovation on stage (12 May 1883, page 8).  From January until May of 1883, Tryon transitioned from freelance scenic artist to the scenic artist on staff at the Salt Lake Theatre. While painting for the nearby Springvale Music Hall, the San Francisco Opera offered Tryon a scenic art position. Tryon shared this offer with the local newspapers, as well as the Salt Lake Theatre. Although Tryon had worked on new scenery for the Salt Lake Theatre since fall 1882, he had no official position at the venue: this changed in early 1883.

On May 12, 1883, the “Salt Lake Herald” reported:

“STAGE EFFECTS.

How the Stage of the Theatre has Been Metaphised.

Since the coming of Mr. Henry C. Tryon, to Salt Lake, the patrons of the theatre have enjoyed a series of the most agreeable and delightful surprises, which have crowded upon each other in rapid succession. These surprises being the many superb scenes from his masterly hand. But one portion, however, of Mr. Tryon’s labor and suggestions have been invisible to the public, until last night., when, the “snap” was given away, and the work which it has taken months to accomplish was displayed to the public. This at once became a matter of general conversation and all expressed their admiration of the marvelous change that had been wrought. A brief description, however, will be of as much interest to the public at large and afford the same pleasure it did to those who were present last night. It may be well to state right here, that this new feature makes the Salt Lake Theatre the equal to any building in the country for the production of scenic effects and magnificent displays.”

And here is the description of the renovation that is worth noting:

“The stage of the theatre in width and depth is one of the largest in the country, but a portion of this great space has heretofore been practically useless, owing to the fly gallery projecting more than was necessary, thus materials cutting off the width of the scenery. At the back of the stage was a wall partition with an opening in the centre and the space in the rear was used as a storage room for the storage of scenery not in use. These partitions have been torn down and the depth on the stage increased by twenty feet.”

“A serious defect under the old arrangement was that fact that fifteen feet in height (immeasurably important in scenic manipulation and effect) was rendered valueless by a plaster ceiling. This desirable space has been entirely lost to the stage and scenic equipment. By cutting out the ceiling referred to, a height of sixty feet from the stage has been obtained, which is not only sufficient to give room in which to take up the drop curtain (to be painted) bodily, without rolling, but affords ample room for any stage purpose whatever. If the audience sat at the theatre last night, who saw the enormous foliage borders which, starting from the tops of the wings, filled up the space visible through the lofty proscenium opening, will consider the height necessary to pull them up and out of sight, they can readily understand the value and necessity of a rigging loft. In building this there were some peculiar mechanical difficulties to overcome, owning to the fact that the roof, in great measure, was supported by beams from the former ceiling. These supports had t be entirely readjusted, and Mr. Henry Grow carried this part of the work to an entirely successful conclusion. To sum up there has been the entire change in the arrangement of everything connected with the stage, the management wisely concluding that everything had been wrong and nothing right; while now there is not a theatre in the land with features of any great importance not possessed by this.

“The same sweeping changes have been made in the scenery have been made and are now being made in the scenery and by the time the management call the house complete, not a foot of old scenery will remain, and the Salt Lake Theatre will be as thoroughly equipped in amount and in artistic quality as any other. The credit for pushing these improvements to so successful an issue is due to General H. B. Clawson, whose instructions to those employed have been to make everything as complete as the most perfect theatre can boast.

Of course we say nothing here of the improvements that are to be effected in the auditorium, as this will be palpable to the public from time to time as they progress. The management of the Theatre is to be complimented no less of the energy and liberality with which it has had the work here referred to prosecuted, than in the choice it has made of the person by whom these improvements have been brought. At the time Mr. Tryon came here the improvements were contemplated and already commenced, but he so thoroughly entered into the idea of the management and showed such consummate knowledge of stage machinery as well as scenic effects, that the task was immediately resigned into his hands and he was given carte blanche to follow his own sweet inclinations. How well Mr. Tryon has acquitted the task assigned him, every patron of the Theatre and every lover of art already knows. Such effects as have already been wrought by his brush have never been seen here, and rarely anywhere else. He is essentially a scenic artist – a genius in his line – an indeed he is an artist in the highest sense of the word, his superior taste and unerring judgement being recognized no less by his associates as the Theatre than by members of the art fraternity of this city.  It is not surprisingly therefore, that a man possessing his unusual talents, and having withal so large experience, should be capable of working such rapid changes, that the troupe now performing at the Theatre, which here about three weeks ago – expressed the utmost astonishment at the wonderful alterations that had been effected in the theatre during so brief a period. The delicate taste, the blending of colors, the peculiar character which belongs to each scene and which marks it from every other scene, all give evidence of the master hand and of the thoughtful artist; and cause his handwork to be admired by those who, unlearned in the details of the glorious art, are nevertheless sensible to its beauties, as well as by those cultivated taste and of experience.”

By the time Tryon’s drop curtain was unveiled, his notoriety had increased substantially throughout the western region. His drop curtain for the Salt lake Theatre was pictured in George D, Pyper’s 1937 book, “The Romance of an Old Playhouse.”

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

There are three personalities that swirl around each other at the Tabor Grand Opera House during the early 1880s – Robert Hopkin, Henry C. Tryon and Henry E. Burcky. Keep in mind that all three artists were credited with painting scenery for the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver between 1881 and 1884.

In 1881, Robert Hopkin painted a drop curtain for the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver and one for the Grand Opera House in Colorado Springs. From 1882-1887, Hopkin was also listed as the scenic artist for the Grand Opera House in Detroit, Michigan, his hometown. Multiple listings in Harry Miner’s Dramatic Directories credit Hopkin with the Detroit Opera House’s stock scenery collection. He may have been their on-site scenic too.

From 1881 until 1882, Henry C. Tryon was repeatedly listed as the scenic artist for the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver, Colorado. When he traveled for other projects, he was referred to as “Henry C. Tryon of the Tabor Grand Opera House.”  From 1883 to 1884 Tryon worked in Salt Lake City, Utah, and Chicago, Illinois. He also painted numerous touring shows during this time.

After Tryon left the Tabor Grand in 1882, his good friend and former partner, Henry E. Burcky, took over the scenic art responsibilities there, and by 1884 was listed as the scenic artist for both Tabor Opera Houses in Denver and Leadville. He remained associated with the two venues through 1890.

Today’s post looks at Tryon’s career in Utah from the fall of 1882 until the end of 1883.

In October 1882, Henry C. Tryon ventured south from Denver, Colorado to Salt Lake City, Utah to paint scenery for the Salt Lake Theatre. By January 1883, Tryon was also working in Springvale, Utah. He painted $1000 worth of stock scenery for the Springvale Theatre Hall, assisted by his younger brother Spencer Tryon. Alfred Lambourne was also working with the Tryon brothers during this time.

Sadly, their paintings in Springvale were destroyed only a few years later. Flames spread to the stage when a mill behind the theatre caught fire, destroying all of the scenic artists’ work. Regardless of the venue’s fate, it was the Springvale project, that secured other work for Tryon in the region. While in Springvale, Tryon shared an employment offer with the local newspaper, subsequently pressuring the Salt Lake Theatre to offer him an immediate position. Since the fall of 1882, Tryon had sporadically painted stock scenes for the Salt Lake Theater. However, he did not hold an official position. This meant that he still remained associated with the Tabor Grand Opera House, as that was his last place of employment.

On January 8, 1883, the “Deseret News” reported, “While in Springville, Mr. H. C. Tryon received a letter from the management of the Grand Opera House, San Francisco, offering him the position of scenic artist of that institution. He sent the letter to the management of the Salt Lake Theatre, who promptly entered into contract with him to do a large amount of work” (page 3). 

In the end, Tryon painted 25 stock sets for the Salt Lake Theatre. In the process, he became a regional success. Tryon’s completed scenes were added to the stage as touring productions visited the venue.

On April 22, 1883, the “Salt Lake Herald” reported, “Mr. Henry C. Tryon is still hard at work on scenery for the Salt Lake Theatre. The patrons of the old house have been very much pleased with the new scenes which have been presented of late. Something new in the scenic line is shown at nearly every performance, and the end is not yet, by any mean., There is still much work to be done before the theatre is thoroughly stocked, and thoroughly stocked it will be before the mangers cry, “enough!” There will not be a foot of old canvas in the building when Tryon leaves for pastures new. The best scene that has been exhibited lately was used in the first act of the Harrison’s “Photos,” and it has received a vast amount of praise from all who had the fortune to be present, and who can appreciate a fine thing when they see it. The scene is an Elizabethan parlor, with high wainscoting and a deep cornice of dark oak, decorated richly with gold, the walls hung with brilliant crimson damask, relieved at the top and bottom, next to the cornice and wainscoting, with a twelve-inch band of black and gold. The centre of the room, for a width of twelve feet, appears to project about eighteen inches; in front of this again is an elaborate centre-door, on each side of which are polished gray marble columns, supporting the massive framework of the door, the architecture of which reaches above the cornice, The composition and color are of the simplest description possible, but the richness of the effect produced by the skillful handling of lights and shadows from the massive projectives, and the gradations of color – the light flashing from the polished surface of oak and marble, and the character of dignity and grandeur, which has not been lost sight of in single detail – give a singular effect of realism to the work, which appears to be not a representation, but really the aristocratic abode of some wealthy English lord, possessing the most elegant and refined taste, and with almost unlimited means at his command. For richness, beauty, harmony and nobility, it is not easy to see how the subject could be excelled, and we are not surprised to hear that the members of the dramatic companies who have seen it, state that it is the most chaste and elegant scene if its kind, in design and color and in character, to be found in the whole country. We congratulate Mr. Tryon, and are pleased to see the interest he takes in all he does; and if the work referred to above is not art in its truest sense, then we would be happy to know just what art is”  (page 12)

The 1884-1885 issue of “Harry Miner’s American Dramatic Directory,” describes the Salt Lake Theatre as having a seating capacity of 1,850, with a stage that measured 65’ x 70’.  The listing also describes a proscenium opening of 28’-0” x 32’-0” and 18’-0” groove heights.  There was 52-0” from the stage floor to the rigging loft, suggesting that much scenery was flown out of sight during a scene change, but grooves were available for wings and other flat stock scenery carried by touring productions.

By July 22, 1883 “Salt Lake Daily” reported, “The improvements which have been in progress at the Salt Lake Theatre during the past nine or ten months, under the direction of Henry C. Tryon, the noted scenic artist, have attracted a great deal of attention from theatrical men generally.  Especially is this true of those professionals who had been here prior to the changes (referred to in detail from time to time in these columns) as they have progressed.  It is needless to say surprise is universal when the marked change that has taken place is noticed, and the expression invariably is that one would never have believed such important improvements could have been effected in so brief a period… the changes which have been effected in that building would strike the attention with greater force than that of a casual observer, or even a theatrical man whose opportunities noticing the difference have been less favorable.” 

It is important to note that Tryon was not simply painting new scenes, he was engineering new stage machinery for the Salt Lake theatre. His changes to the system made it easier for touring productions to install their scenery.

The newspaper also interviewed theatrical manager, Marcus R. Mayer about Tryon’s work. Mayer commented that the work completed under the direction of Tryon supported “metropolitan advantages.”  Mayer stated, “I can imagine the surprise and delight with which the Kiralfys will look about them when they first set foot on the stage.  We will be able to present our scenery here with its full effect, and that is something and that will be something we will be able to do in very few places after leaving here.  Tryon is evidently a man who knows much about stage requirement as any person since, as I am informed, the extensive changes have been made by his direction and mainly under his supervision.” 

Mayer was then asked, “By the way, what do you think of Tryon as an artist?”  Mayer’s response, “Tryon?  We he has a national reputation.  The fact that he is engaged to paint the scenes is a guaranty that the scenes outfit will be on par with any theatre in the United States.  He is none of your fellows who depend on village theatre for a livelihood; his services are in demand all the time and the only thing that beats my penetration is that so expensive an artist could be obtained to come to Salt Lake.  The scenes already painted are the equal of anything in stock in the country.” Mayer ended his interview stating, “The management of the Salt Lake Theatre foresaw just what I’ve told you, and knowing the companies now coming could not endure the old arrangements, they determined to fit the stage up first-class modern style, and Tryon was just the man for the conspiracy.”

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

The Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado, was renamed the Elks Opera House when the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks (B.P.O.E.) purchased the building in 1901. Immediately after the purchase, the building was renovated. Part of the stage renovation included adding a fly loft, so that new scenery could be raised out of sight. Previously, the Tabor Opera House used wings, shutters, roll drops and borders.

Similar renovations were occurring all across the United States at this time. For example, in 1903, the “Idaho Springs News” reported a similar project: “The opera house will have a new stage and new scenery with which to greet the public at the opening performance. The stage will be enlarged, to be 40 feet high by 40 feet wide by 26 feet deep, which will enable the management to present all scenery carried by the companies. By the increased height the scenery will not roll but slide up. This mean larger shows for the public. The work is now under way” (4 Sept 1903).

In 1902, new scenery was purchased from the Kansas City Scenic Co. for the Elks Opera House in Leadville. Fred Megan, a future business partner of Thomas G. Moses, represented the Kansas City Scenic Co. and secured the contract for new scenery. Kansas City Scenic Co. then subcontracted some of the project to Sosman & Landis in Chicago. The scenery delivered to the Elks Opera House was a massive collection; a substantial investment for the Elks’ new theater. During February 2020 I documented the Kansas City Co. and Sosman & Landis Co. scenery purchased for the renovated stage. This was the first phase of my project. I was hired to complete a condition report, historical analysis, and replacement appraisal for each scenic piece, as well as writing a collections care and management program for the collection.

When the new scenery was installed at the Elks Opera House, all of the older scenery was tucked away in the attic where it would remain for the next century. Occasionally, a piece or two would make its way to the stage floor, but it was not an easy task. Larger pieces needed to be lowered through a small attic door, forty feet above the stage.

From September 21-27, 2020, I led a group of local volunteers for the second phase of the project, documenting the historic stage settings in the attic of the Tabor Opera House. Each piece was lowered to the stage floor and photographed. The most challenging pieces to lower were shutters, measuring 10’-0”w by 16’-0”h. Several pieces were painted by the well-known theatre architect T. Frank Cox. Cox began his career as a scenic artist and spent over a year in Colorado. In January 1888, Cox painted several scenes for the Tabor Opera House, including these two country shutters.

These shutters formed the backing for the stage setting. Rolled together, shutters were a perfect solution for theaters that did not have room to raise backdrops out of sight. Wings and shutters slid on and off the stage in grooves to form scenic illusion on nineteenth and twentieth century stages across the United States.

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

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

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

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

“ROBERT HOPKIN, PAINTER

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

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

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

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

SOUVENIRS OF HOPKIN’S HISTORY

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

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

So fleet the works of men back to their earth again

Ancient and holy things fade like a dream

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

SMELL OF THE SEA

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

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

BOB’S DELIGHT

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

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

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

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

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

COLOR

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

IMPRESSIONIST      

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

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

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

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

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

INSIGHT

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

The graveyard by the Sea-

Where ocean breezes sweep across the restless deep.

It stands, with headstones quaint, with sculpture rude.

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

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

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

BOB’S STUDIO

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

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

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

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

WORLD A PICTURE BOOK

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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