Drypigment.net

Water, Water Everywhere

Water damage is always the antagonist in historic scenery stories.

Scenery painted with dry pigment and diluted hide glue, or “size,” is water-based and non-permanent. The colors reactivate with the introduction of water, being displaced upon the surface as the water carries pigments elsewhere on the fabric. Highly concentrated areas of color are re-deposited along the edges of water damage and are difficult to conceal. They need to be sealed and then touched up. In some cases all of the color is removed, reverting sections of the composition to raw fabric.

The Fort Scott collection was in amazing condition when we placed it into storage on November 23, 2015, at the age of 91 yrs. old! The date when Moses finished the last drop for the collection was November 17, 1924. The scenery was in much better shape than any other historical collection I had come across to date. Part of the reason for the minimal deterioration was the lack of water damage. You have to understand that it is almost unheard of for a Scottish Rite scenery collection to not have some type of water damage; either from pipes that burst or a roof that leaks. Fortunately for us, there were no pipes above the scenery in Fort Scott and no detectable roof leaks!

Water can also damage drops when it sneaks in through the smoke doors high above the stage and slowly drips down onto the painted scenes. Smoke doors above the stage have a straightforward purpose, allowing the smoke and fire gasses to escape through the stage area and not into the auditorium. These vents above the stage which, when open during a fire, will draw smoke out of the auditorium and up out of the roof, enabling a safer evacuation of the audience. The vents are often attached to compressed springs, so that when activated, they will stay open. Various requirements are determined by the size and the height of the stage. Unfortunately, over time smoke doors can leak.

The reason for the smoke doors is clear – audience safety. In 1903, the Iroquois theatre fire in Chicago killed approximately 600 individuals, many children, during an afternoon matinee. Piles of bodies were discovered lined up in the aisles trying to exit through the locked theatre doors. After this tragedy and the many others that had preceded it, there was an increased effort toward both audience safety and fire prevention. Many fire codes were put in place and included exits, fire barriers, and smoke doors.

Interestingly, the Fort Scott smoke doors were placed above the stage left side. Any leaking that might have occurred happened away from the painted scenes in the off-stage area. I had made a mental note at the time that I would have to keep an eye out for this building anomaly in the future. Was it really an anomaly, or were the architects who worked closely with theatre professionals at that time aware of the potential damage to the scenery and lighting fixtures? If it was taken into consideration for one Scottish Rite theatre, there could be other examples elsewhere.

And then I encountered the issue of smoke doors at the MMHC theatre during the spring of 2016. I was sitting at a construction meeting when I realized that the MMHC smoke doors were centered above the stage and would automatically open when a fire alarm was pulled. I immediately expressed a concern that if the doors popped open during a rainstorm, the contents of the historic scenery would be completely destroyed. Had no one thought of this?

I then continued stating that the collection had a replacement value of over $1,000,000.00 and the majority of it could be destroyed in an instant. Everyone at the meeting looked toward the CEO for clarification and direction. The room was silent. Then I realized that this was a moot point for the CEO he moved on to the previous topic – the need for some safety mechanism to prevent workers from falling through the opening if the doors sprung open.

I kept wondering, “Why did they really want any historic drops in the space if they didn’t care what happened to them after the installation?” After all, what was the point of replicating an historic theatre space to accommodate an entire Scottish Rite scenery collection?

To be continued…

Alternative Facts

While I was frantically working on the mural, overseeing the processing of the St. Paul Masonic Library with a crew of volunteers, and organizing for the upcoming restoration, the CEO summoned me into his office for a meeting with the general director. During the meeting, the CEO asked a question that he had repeatedly asked, “Why can’t we just hang the drops unrestored?”

Once again, I again explained that we could not hang unrestored scenery for a multitude of reasons; the primary one being that dusting pigments and other surface contaminants presented a health hazard – especially for the old and young. The theatre was connected to an eldercare facility with people who had compromised immune systems. Plus one of the target client’s were to be dance studios for children’s recitals.

“But you cleaned them in Fort Scott,” the CEO insisted, “Why clean them again?”

I took a deep breath. “No,” I said quietly, “I only completed some onsite cleaning for handling and shipping as they were so filthy.”

“Well, why didn’t you do a better job onsite so you only had to do it once?”

“The limited time factor, “ I replied, “It was never part of the original plan as I hoped to lower, roll, and ship the scenery.” He looked perplexed.

“Regardless,” I said,” during the shipping of any historical scenery, the pigment – meaning color – and other surface contaminants would continue to dust off of the fabric. It would remain encapsulated in the scenery roll, becoming airborne when hung on site. Additionally, the “binder” – meaning the stuff that holds the color on the surface of the fabric – is also failing, causing the color to dust off. The painted surface needs to be stabilized prior to hanging any drops in the MMHC theatre.”

We had gone over and over this issue for months since our initial road trip to Fort Scott during August 2015 when he insisted the drops could just be hung upon their arrival. With each attempt to insist that I just hang the scenery, the general director backed him up. I felt like being in an elementary playground again where the bully made a decree and the sidekick added, “Yeah, what he said!”

At this point in our conversation, the CEO took a new tactic and explained that he had contacted a company in the Duluth that explained all pigments, even dusting ones, were inert. This REALLY caught me off guard. He had gone out of his way to “prove” that my health warnings about dusting pigment were incorrect. He had listened to me and then sought others to disprove my warning of a potential danger. Why?

I mentally regrouped and took another deep breath, slowly explaining the following:
“Even if that were the case and historic dry pigments were inert– and they are not- it is the OTHER surface contaminants that are even more dangerous than the actual pigments. Bat guano, pigeon droppings, flash powder residue, soot from coal heat or oil heat, tar dust, mortar dust, and many other environmental contaminants are quite toxic. This scenery is still covered in an oily filth and only a small portion of it was removed in Fort Scott. The remaining contaminants need to be removed prior to restoration or hanging.”

“Believe me,” I said, “I would be thrilled to pass along the scientific proof that all dusting pigments are inert – especially to the safety commission or the scenic artists at the United States Institute of Theatre Technology (USITT). It would be an earth-shattering moment for the theatrical painting industry.”

What was the deal? Why was the CEO trying to prove that I really didn’t know what I was talking about in terms of dry pigment dangers?!?! The public’s safety was at risk. Wasn’t that enough?

To be continued…

There is a wonderful resource from Baylor’s Environmental Heath and Safety page. It goes into detail about the health hazards associated with dry pigments, especially when they become airborne. This is just one of MANY site and agencies that explain the various health hazards surrounding dusting dry pigment. Here is the link: http://www.baylor.edu/ehs/index.php?id=94372

Unlike new pigments, however, we don’t have access to the MSDS (material safety data sheet) for the original colors on the historical scenery. The colors that were used on backdrops and now become airborne during restoration or simply hanging in a theatre are unknown. Some colors used to contain cadmium, arsenic, or lead – just to name a few hidden toxins in historical pigments.

Ch-ch-ch-ch changes (turn and face the strain) ch- ch- changes

As previously noted, on December 2, 2015, I emailed the CEO and general director the anticipated time to clean and stabilize the first 19 drops in 8 weeks, starting by April 1, 2016. Approximately three assistants were needed to assist with handling each drop once it arrived at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center theatre. If there were any major repairs, it might necessitate a few extra days to be added to the standard process.

Once each drop was restored, it would be loosely rolled and set aside to await hanging. The restoration labor for each drop was noted as follows: one day to clean and stabilize a drop (allowing drop to dry over night); one day to square, reinforce, and repair each drop; and one final day to loosely roll the completed drop and unroll another drop. The estimated time to hang all nineteen restored drops and attach bottom wooden battens to the tops and bottoms would be six days.

I was adamant that the lead rigger be either Brandon Fischer (from the Fort Scott, Kansas job) or Paul Sannerud (from the Winona, Minnesota, job). Either Fischer or Sannerud could carry the necessary insurance during the installation and each truly understood historic scenery. I wouldn’t have to explain how the drops were assembled or hung. They would then select their installation crew of either two or three riggers. I had outlined that the entire restoration would consist of several phases, explaining that the netting of cut drops took the greatest amount of time and would be completed well after the backdrops and leg drops.

Cut drops required a total of four to six days to clean, stabilize, square, repair, and attach new netting, instead of the standard three to five days. They would be completed after all of the backdrops were restored. Each time a series of drops were restored, there needed to be a few extra days scheduled, allotting for both selection and transportation of drops and materials, as well as the preparation to set up and clean up of the space. Furthermore, I was the drops needed to be restored on site as transporting restored drops often resulted in excessive wrinkles and cracked paint. If they were restored off site and transported, they would have to be touched-up on site, doubling the labor.

During January and February construction meetings in 2016, I stipulated my needs in the MMHC theatre space, specifically the access to the stage by the last week in March. This week would be spent prepping for an April 1, 2016, restoration start. At first my request was granted, but A&P Construction noted that there could be a slight delay if some of the projects were changed or fell a little behind. As the mural was being delayed due to constant changes, I didn’t sweat it much. If we were unable to get into the space, it just meant fewer than 19 drops for the opening – but there would still be something there for the public to see.

Then the entire scope of restoration changed – again. Instead of simply restoring the backdrops and featuring them as large-scale artworks, the CEO decided that he wanted to hang complete scenes for the opening on June 24, 2016. This changed everything. All of my previous estimates and planning were no longer applicable and had to be redone. My first thought was that this would be more expensive and time-consuming as we were now attempting to re-net cut drops with much larger restoration crews.

Most Fort Scott scenes were composed of a leg drop, cut drop, and backdrop – providing depth to the stage picture. Cut drops composed the middle ground for each scene and required much more time to restore than a simple backdrop. They were backdrops with cut centers, supported with either 1” cotton netting or open weave netting (like tutu material) in the opening.

When new netting was attached to a historic backdrop, each knotted intersection received a dot of glue. This procedure allowed the drop to maintain its flexibility over the decades, but it was EXTREMELY time consuming. From past restoration projects I knew exactly how many people were required and how many hours each cut drop would take to net this way.

These continued delays for the mural and restoration might all have been for the best. My lower back was still bothering me after I initially injured it when unloading the scenery rolls. It didn’t seem to be getting any better and it had happened almost two months ago. Little did I know at the time, but my lifting and shoving the 100 pound scenery rolls repeatedly had caused annular fissures, or tears, to occur on multiple discs in my back. During the strain of lifting the tubes, the disc fluid had been pushed against the elastic outer layer and formed small rips.

Throughout 2016, I would have constant back pain, doctor’s appointments, physical therapy, chiropractic treatments, and acupuncture appointments, all navigated within the maze of a workman’s compensation claim. However, I just kept plugging along, constantly shifting my position, and completing my work at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center. But this injury did make me ask for a painting assistant for the mural as I had both lifting and movement restrictions.

And then I thought of the lyrics for David Bowie’s song “Changes:”

“Still don’t know what I was waiting for
and my time was running wild,
a million dead end streets

Every time I thought I’d got it made
it seemed the taste was not so sweet”

To be continued…

Time is of the Essence

In the meeting where we discussed the mural and restoration timelines as stipulated in my emails, I also requested that many of my other MMHC responsibilities be minimized. I needed the extra time to design, plan and paint the mural. A quick look passed between both the CEO and general director, then they both smiled at me saying, “Certainly. Anything you need.” The exchange that passed between to two was a red flag. Regardless of my request, no one at the time was hired to replace my position on any of the projects.

The only duty that I was really released from was attending MMHC Museum meetings. This was confirmed in an email sent on December 3, 2016:

“We are now at the end of the beginning.  The work of framing the content of the Museum is now largely complete.  The work of Wendy in helping interpret my vision for the Museum is done.  The work of the scholars is done.  The writing of the narrative is nearing completion.  The selection of artifacts has been completed.  Accordingly, it is now necessary to move to the next phases of our work, which I describe as finalizing graphic design, arranging content and artifact placement and lastly installation.  As we move into the final phases of our work, the composition of the active team will necessarily change.  While the scholars remain available, we will have limited need for their expertise and thus they will not be called upon unless there is general agreement that additional information is needed and my approval is obtained.  Similarly, Wendy’s work being now completed she will move on to other critical work related to the MMHC and will now be available for limited consulting concerning the work she has already completed.  Wendy will no longer attend Museum Committee meetings unless there is general agreement on the need and I approve. Time is of the essence.  We have only 6 months to review, refine, and install the Museum.”

This sounds pretty succinct, if it concerned all of the designs and text previously approved. During my absence in Fort Scott, portions of the gallery layout changed, as well as content. I had been unable to do much from far away and had little desire to fight this particular battle. I had mentioned to the CEO and general director during our early December lunch meeting that any changes to museum layout, thematic content, and artifact selection would jeopardize the museum team’s ability to produce a quality product for the opening. Besides, how much could really be changed at this point? The answer: everything.

Throughout the remainder of December 2015 and the beginning of January 2016, I continued to work on the following projects while doing preliminary work on the mural design:

1. Putting together an informational packet regarding the Fort Scott scenery collection with a complete inventory and artistic provenance.
2. Re-organizing the Fort Scott drops on specific line sets for the MMHC theatre; estimating line set weights for the drops.
3. Hiring an assistant to work on unpacking the St. Paul Masonic library acquisition and start preliminary processing.
4. Working with the museum team and organizing artifacts for museum display cases.
5. Finalizing paint colors with the interior designers, architects and construction leads for the theatre and the lodge room.
6. Creating test samples for mural fabric to be used in the lodge room.
7. Contacting and interviewing possible individuals to work on the first phase of the scenery restoration project.
8. Completing full-scale detail drawings for the stained glass window and selecting glass colors.
9. Reviewing video scripts and historical details for interactive exhibits in the museum.
10. Designing the mural paint frame and discussing its construction with the Minnesota Masonic Home grounds crew.
11. Selecting a studio space and making sure that there was ample space and height for the work.
12. Ordering the necessary mural painting supplies and coordinating their delivery to the studio space.
13. Continuing to attend a variety of construction and production meetings every week as the Curatorial Director of the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center.
14. Doing promotional sessions for a variety of organizations, including the Kennedy Center for the Arts Academic Festival conference that was meeting at Normandale Community College.

We had only six months to go before the June 24 opening and I was starting to show signs of wear and tear. While juggling the various work projects listed above, I was constantly scheduling medical appointments as doctors tried diagnose and treat my constant back pain, resulting from the injury that occurred while unloading the Fort Scott scenery tubes. Regardless of my hectic schedule and the holidays, it appeared that we might actually meet all of the deadlines! I was living my dream to preserve the past for future generations. This building had so much potential as a state-of-the-art facility, complete with a scenery collection, a six-gallery freemasonry museum, a research library and an event center.

To be continued…

Painted Setbacks

The CEO and the general director took me out to lunch the week after my return from Fort Scott. It was the beginning of December 2015. The intent of the meeting was to discuss details pertaining to my upcoming projects and necessary timelines. I explained that, realistically, I could only complete one mural in time for the opening if they wanted any restored scenery at all. I suggested that we only focus on the wall behind the Master’s Chair in the East. It was possible that I could do more prior to commencing the restoration, but much depended on the complexity of the final composition and the amount of architectural detail in the mural design.

I had so much on my plate at this point, that I did not feel compelled to be the sole muralist for the lodge room. Regardless of who designed and painted the murals, they just needed to be from they same hand so that there would be some uniformity. Ideally, whoever created the first mural should complete the remainder of murals, unless they decided to do a nationwide search and select well-known artists for individual commissions – but that could be dicey and look like a patchwork quilt in the end. The CEO was adamant that I should paint the murals.

Then, the general director said, “Well, it’s not as if we have seen your work or even know if you can really paint.” Smiling he added, “We’re just basing our opinion on your own statements.” There was a pause as I tried to figure out how to phrase a response to this insult.

After all of my mural designs, my designs for stained glass artwork, and the variety of other visual projects that I had completed during the last fourteen months, my skills were now being questioned. The CEO was keenly watching my reaction and couldn’t hide his interest in my response. I took a slow and steady breath, refusing to show either irritation or anger. For this next statement, I would remain calm and collected throughout my response.

“Well,” I said, “How about if you both visit my website and see if my talent is worthy of the project. My past painting and restoration work can be found at my old website http://www.bellascena.com I can always bring in my actual portfolio too.” I carefully took out a piece of paper from my purse to write down the website for them, but he stopped me and said, “Just email me the link.”

In all my years of painting scenery or producing fine art, my artistic talent has never been questioned. In a nutshell, artists have a hard time lying about their skills when they produce a final product that remains for the world to critique. Furthermore, I refused to be sucked into a quibbling match with the general director. Something had happened during my absence in Fort Scott and I couldn’t figure out how I had become his sudden enemy. Regardless of the tense atmosphere, I returned to the discussion regarding the mural timeline, explaining that it was possible to complete one mural and restore nineteen drops by June 24, 2016.

I would need to have approval on a final design, place an order for all the materials, secure a studio space, construct a paint frame for the mural, set up the space, and commence with the painting by January 15, 2016 – just a little over a month away. This project was also impossible to complete in a 30-hour workweek, so I would have to be bumped to a full-time as I was not going to continue working fifty hours a week for part-time employment.

Ironically, the lodge room murals were now extremely important to the CEO. He was adamant about getting some life back into the fairly sterile lodge room as it was currently white columns against off-white walls. What he initially admired as “simple and elegant,” now was problematic – devoid of personality without draperies and painted murals.

Who could have envisioned that white against white might be lackluster? During our road trip to Fort Scott and Guthrie, we had discussed the use of painted panels in lieu of wall murals as I was concerned about the lack of color. The room would read as simply white. My suggestion was to create wall panels between the five orders of architecture and paint the central panel a color – helping to liven up the room until murals could replace them. After the building opened, there would be ample time to paint and insert various compositions, tracing charts, or other historic memorabilia into these spaces.

However, this was an unanticipated project and additional workload for me – complicated by the recent scenery acquisition. Now, we had a scenery collection and it was my primary focus. All of the restoration estimations had been based on the fact that I wouldn’t be distracted with mural painting, or any decorative painting throughout the complex.

Regardless of other assigned tasks, I needed to start restoring the collection no later than April 1, 2016 to complete 19 backdrops for the June 24 opening. To even complete the restoration, I needed to minimize my current in involvement as museum exhibit curator, library administrator, and historical consultant for the interior design team, architects, and museum team.

To be continued…

Take it to Warp Speed

Wooden battens warp over time and people often want to replace the “old” pieces of pine with new lumber. I have only attempted this with one drop and it failed miserably, warping far worse than the original battens as it was young lumber. You have to understand that historic battens were first-cut and old-growth timber, meaning the graining is tighter than modern pine and contains very few flaws and knots. The wood that was used for the stage scenery is a far better quality than what I can find today. It is easy to un-warp old boards by swapping the battens and reshaping each piece.

Unfortunately, there are many individuals who do not fully understand the critical purpose of the battens in historical scenery collections. Again, these are the battens placed at the top and bottoms of each painted drop. Wooden battens stretch the top and bottom of the painted scene perfectly.

Some people even recommend that all of the wood must be removed and replaced with pipe pockets and jute webbing. What is their reasoning? Pipes will stay straight and jute won’t warp like wooden battens. Pipes can remain straight, but only if they have a big enough diameter and it is thick enough not to bend. The large size also means that there is a great strain on the pipe pocket seams due to the increased weight. If the pipes are light enough to not stress the seam, they also are subject to bending.

Furthermore, jute webbing and pipe pockets often create massive wrinkles throughout a historic composition once the drop is hanging. When using battens, the fabric is stretched and tacked to prevent the “bunching up” of fabric along the bottom. The only reason that causes massive wrinkles with wooden battens is if the pick points that support the drop fall out of level. This simply necessitates trimming each line to make sure that it remains parallel to the floor. With pipe pockets, entire sections of fabric at the bottom of each drop can “bunch up,” forming entire sections of wrinkles that appear like ripples across a water’s surface. Trying to pull out these wrinkles once it is hanging will often cause the aged fabric to rip. Similarly, jute webbing can also cause some wrinkles as the tie lines do not always keep the fabric taut, allowing some sections to sag.

Attaching pipe pockets and jute webbing to a historical painted scene is a very different beast than sewing on jute and pipe pockets to new drops. There are numerous factors that must be taken into consideration prior to making this decision, especially the condition of the fabric.

The biggest problem is that sewing ANYTHING onto an historical drop necessitates perforating the old fabric, thus causing a weakness in the structural integrity – even with double seaming. Over time, the old fabric WILL fail and the pipe pocket will detach from the original fabric, allowing the pipe to plummet to the stage.

Similarly at the top, sewing on jute webbing with grommets also causes a weakness in the structural integrity of the fabric. The weight of the pipe will target the weakness along the stitched edge and rip. ANY trained theatre professional will immediately understand why pipe pockets and jute webbing should not be sewn onto historic fabric and weighted. It may hold for a while, but it will eventually fail.

I just viewed a perfect example of the problems that result from replacing wooden battens with pipe pockets and jute webbing at the Scottish Rite in Saint Louis, Missouri. All of the wooden battens were removed on each painted scene. On the top, jute webbing with grommets and tie lines were sewn along the top edge of the thin and old fabric. On the bottom, the fabric was initially folded to create a pipe pocket. Many of the pipe pockets from the first alteration failed, so a second pre-constructed pipe pocket was sewn above the damage. Unfortunately, that failed too. Why? Because the fabric was perforated, created a weak area and caused the fabric to rip.

With pipes, there is the potential for damage at multiple points across the bottom of a drop, but especially at the ends and the connections. The sharp edges, or threaded areas will rip the fabric. Also, the connections will come apart as the pipe shifts over time – unless they are soldered. Now, pipe pockets began to appear in the 1920s as the price of steel was affordable and this was a cost-effective alternative to wood. Unfortunately, over time the seams are more at risk than the wooden battens as the wooden battens compress the fabric. If not the fabric ripping, the thread will fail as it the cause at the Scottish Rite in Moline, Illinois (ca. 1929). Battens just work better if you are attempting to hang historic drops for several decades.

For years, I have warned against simply sewing pipe pockets onto historic drops, yet individuals have continued to sew pipe pockets onto historical scenery. I receive calls from those who did not head my advice.

If the pipe is too light, it will not pull out the wrinkles. Furthermore, if the pipe has too narrow of a diameter, it will bend. For example, if a skinny pipe on a cut drop is used and the cut open gets damaged – the pipe will bend and the bottom of the drop will look like it is smiling at the audience.

At some point, the collection is dangerous for all those below it and each production is a game of Russian roulette. Who will be standing below the pipe when it lets go and will they die? Is the theatre owner willing to take that particular risk?

To be continued…