Scenic art examples from the Scenery Collection, stored in the Arts Annex of the College of Visual and Performing Arts at Northern Illinois University.
The Scenic Collection includes elements from the settings of 90 operas, with approximately 900 backdrops and borders and more than 2200 framed scenic units. The stage settings illustrate an exceptional range of production styles between 1889 and 1932. In addition to the scenery there are 3 dimensional units including furniture and properties. Furthermore, the collection is supported by an extraordinary archive of production notebooks, property lists, inventories, expense records, performance time sheets, correspondence, original photographs of the sets, selected costumes, and opera stars of the period, ground plans and blueprints, painters elevations and renderings, original costume and set design drawings, and 120 exquisitely painted and detailed ¼” scale maquettes of the settings.
Unfortunately, some of the scenery has been damaged since initial documentation. The roof leaks and flooding is a problem due to non-working sump pumps.
Maquette and scenic pieces from the Scenery Collection, stored in the Arts Annex of the College of Visual and Performing Arts at Northern Illinois University.
The Scenic Collection includes elements from the settings of 90 operas, with approximately 900 backdrops and borders and more than 2200 framed scenic units. The stage settings illustrate an exceptional range of production styles between 1889 and 1932. In addition to the scenery there are 3 dimensional units including furniture and properties. Furthermore, the collection is supported by an extraordinary archive of production notebooks, property lists, inventories, expense records, performance time sheets, correspondence, original photographs of the sets, selected costumes, and opera stars of the period, ground plans and blueprints, painters elevations and renderings, original costume and set design drawings, and 120 exquisitely painted and detailed ¼” scale maquettes of the settings.
Unfortunately, some of the scenery has been damaged since initial documentation. The roof leaks and flooding is a problem due to non-working sump pumps.
Walter C. Hartson began his artistic career as a scenic artist. Over the course of two decades Hartson worked for scenic studios run by both Thomas G. Moses and Sosman & Landis in New York and Chicago. Even after he made a name for himself in the fine art world, Hartson continued to paint stage settings. By the end of his career, Hartson was associated with the Chicago Society of Artists, the Palette & Chisel Club, the Salmagundi Club, the Rochester Art Club, the Duchess County Art Association, New York’s Kit Kat Club, the New York Water Color Club, Allied Artists of America, the American Watercolor Society, the National Arts Club and the Grand Central Art galleries. Hartson was a full member of the National Academy of Design, and yet, continued to work as a scenic artist until his mid-40s. As a scenic artist Hartson was able to explore color and painting techniques on a large scale.
Walter Carroll Hartson was born in Wyoming, Iowa, on Oct. 27, 1866. He was the son of Lafayette F. Hartson (1825-1892) and Loirett S. Hartson (1843-1920). The second child of five, his siblings were Emma (b. 1853), Dewit W. (b. 1860), Flora M. (b. 1875) and Ansel (b. 1877). The year before Walter was born, the “Iowa State Gazetteer” listed his father as gunsmith. By 1870, Lafayette Hartson was listed as an insurance agent, a career that he would continue for more than a decade.
In 1880, Walter Hartson married Carlotta A. Ogden. Ogden was also born in Wyoming on September 9, 1866, the daughter of Edward & Mary Smith Ogden. They both attended elementary school until the fifth grade and married when they were twenty-four years old. The two initially lived in Chicago where Hartson continued his studies at the Art Institute. He exhibited his artworks alongside many contemporaries who also worked as scenic artists, including future Sosman & Landis staff members Hardesty Maratta, Fred McGreer, Edward Morange, Frank C. Peyraud, and Harry A. Vincent. In 1889, he was working at 263 State Street; this was the same address were McGreer and Vincent also worked that year. Merchants located at 263 State ranged from a photography studio to Martin Emerich Outfitting Co. If I had to hazard a guess, they were likely painting photographic backings.
Hartson, McGreer and Vincent became part of the Sosman & Landis West Side Force in the early 1890s, working directly with Thomas G. Moses at the annex studio. Throughout the 1880s, Hartson continued to make a name for himself as an easel artist too, and by the 1890s was exhibiting in one show after another across the country. Hartson became well known for his landscape painting and atmospheric effects. In Chicago and in New York, he was part of scenic art community that studied, worked and socialized together, planning sketching trips when they weren’t painting scenery for the stage.
Along with many scenic art colleagues in 1893, Hartson donated artwork to a charity sale for the destitute (Chicago Tribune, 31 Dec. 1893, page 18). It was during this decade, that Hartson was first recognized on a National level. In 1895, Hartson won the bronze medal for his artwork at the Atlanta Exposition. This award helped support his studies abroad. On Jan. 28, 1897, the “New York Times” announced, “Mr. Walter C. Hartson, who has spent the last two or three years in Holland, has placed on exhibition at the Klackner Galleries, 7 West Twenty-eighth Street, fifty-six oil and water-color paintings of scenes in the Netherlands, which show that he has spent his time in the lowlands to good advantage, It is unnecessary to describe Mrs. Hartson’s work, except as a whole, as the subjects of most of the paintings, as well as their execution, is almost similar in every instance. The work in general is marked by abundant sentiment, good tone and color, and sympathy with the misty moisture-laden atmosphere of the lowlands, and by a keen appreciation of the artistic possibilities of canal and meadow, of windmills and village houses and streets. Mr. Hartson has made a close study of the masters of the modern Dutch school, and to those who love the scenery and atmosphere of Holland , a visit to this collection will be found both interesting and delightful” (page 5).
By 1898 Hartson received an award for his “Fields of September” at the seventy-third annual exhibition of the National Academy of Design (Chicago Tribune, 26 March, 1898, page 1); the Third Hallgarten Prize. By 1900, Hartson exhibited in a watercolor exhibition at the Chicago Art Institute. The Chicago “Inter Ocean” commented on two of Hartson’s paintings in 1898:
“Of course, the best may not have been in sight, but some signed by Walter C. Hartson, arrested me. It is in tone and treatment much like a McIlhenny that stood not far away. Both these are in treatment between Corot and George Inness, Sr., although not so rich in color as the later. They lay in color, and then wash it down until everything is blurred, enveloped, atmospheric and gray. Still there is sufficient firmness and purpose, good modeling and no muddiness. Only an experienced painter can do this difficult thing.”
On Jun 26, 1898, the “Chicago Tribune,” mentioned his work, “Two cleverly painted water-colors of Dutch scenes by Walter C. Hartson, a former Chicago artist are shown at Thayer & Chandler’s. Both are light and lively in color and effect, and consequently more interesting than much of his more serious work, in which he inclined to blackness and heaviness” (June 26, 1898, page 33). It was is his ability to capture light and atmospheric effects that translated so well not only in Hartson’s easel art, but also in his scenic art for the stage.
Regardless of his fine art recognition, Hartson continued to work as a scenic artist. In 1902, Moses wrote, “We secured the paint room at the 14th Street Theatre, which gave us six frames. Walter C. Hartson and Arthur Barr joined our forces and our work kept on increasing. We now had an office in the Broadway Theatre Building, a bookkeeper and an office boy, with a very swell uniform. We were getting very classy. We were also starting a big payroll.” Hartson was working for Moses & Hamilton that year, not Sosman & Landis. In 1902, Hartson also won the Gold Medal of the American Art Society and by 1904 won the First Landscape Prize in the Osborne competition.
Hartson continued returned to Europe in 1907. His passport application listed his physical appearance at 41 yrs. old: 5’-10”, with high forehead, blue eyes, small nose, wide mouth, round chin, brown hair, fair complexion and oval face. On July 31, 1907, Hartson received a U. S. Consular Certificate from Henry Morgan, Consul, of the United States of America in Amsterdam, certifying that he was registered as an American Citizen in the consulate. The purpose of Hartson’s trip was listed as painting. The Hartson’s returned from oversees on June 24, 1908, sailing from Liverpool. Sketches from this trip resulted in a series of exhibits. Even in 1916 Hartson exhibited 26 water colors from sketches that he made on this Holland trip, the subjects being mostly marine and landscapes. On May 1, 1916, Brooklyn’s “Standard Union” advertised “An Exhibition of Water Colors by Walter C. Hartson.” Of Hartson’s credentials, the advertisement stated, “Mr. Hartson in 1895, at the Atlanta Exposition, received a bronze medal and honorable mention. The National Academy of Design, 1898, presented him with a Third Hallgarten Prize. He won the gold medal from the American Art Society in 1902, and in 1904, in the Osborne Competition, he won the first landscape prize.”
After his return to the United States in 1908, Hartson again worked as a scenic artist at Sosman & Landis in Chicago. In 1909, Thomas G. Moses wrote “Walter Hartson joined our force at 20th Street in August and seemed to be satisfied with conditions.” He also exhibited in the Windy City that year. On March 29, 1909, the “Chicago Tribune” reported that Walter C. Hartson, of New York, N.Y., and Jane Mahon Stanley of Detroit, Michigan, exhibited artworks at Marshall Field & Company picture galleries. It appears that returning to work as a scenic artist was the quickest way to make money after depleting one’s expenses after artistic studies in Europe, hence the return to Sosman & Landis in Chicago that year. From March 1910 until March 1911, Hartson and his wife again traveled overseas, visiting England, Holland and Belgium. At the time, the Hartson’s permanent address was at 53 West 126 St. in New York.
It is at this time that Hartson began listing himself in census reports and directories as a studio artist. The shift may have been prompted by newfound friends Arthur J. Powell, G. Glenn Newell and Harry Franklin Waltman. Newell, Waltman and Hartson eventually left the city to seek solace in the Dover Plains, each establishing a studio in the picturesque region. Hartman relocated around 1917 and worked from his studio in Wassaic, New York, following Newell with Waltman who slightly preceded him. Later, Powell joined the trio. It was the rolling hills of the Harlem Valley that kept the four men occupied (Poughkeepsie Journal, 21 June 1953, page 6A). Dozens of newspaper reports noted that the four artists painted the area with great affection.
Walter Hartson, seated left in article.
All four men were born in small rural towns but sought their art careers in nearby metropolitan areas. Hartson, Waltman, and Newell studied extensively in Europe and each independently found their way to the New York art scene. All four artists became members of the Duchess County Art Association. On January 4, 1946, the “Poughkeepsie Journal” announced that the works of Hartson, Newell, Powell and Waltman were being honored by the Duchess County Art Association, with an exhibit of their work in the Campbell Hotel Gallery. Over the decades, their work was continually rediscovered. On February 25, 1977, the “Poughkeepsie Journal” announced another exhibit of the four artists’ works at the Thomas Barrett House in an article entitled, “Once Important, They’re Forgotten” (page 3). The author reported, “Their paintings still hang in the libraries, in school, the bank. You get a very definite sense of place with these paintings. It is definitely the Harlem Valley.” Powell also worked as a scenic artist, and in 1927 painted a decorative panel for the first scenic artists ball held in Chicago.
The 1920s were a defining period for Hartson. He and his wife again planned and international tour with stops in China, Japan, India, Italy, and Greece. They traveled for five months, returning from Cherbourg on May 19, 1924.
The last two decades of Hartson’s life were spent painting in Amenia, Duchess County, New York. The same month that he was honored by the Duchess Country Art Association, his wife of sixty-six years passed away. Carlotta Hartson died on Jan. 26, 1946. The two were separated for less than seven months, as Walter followed her in death on July 19, 1946. Hartson’s obituary was published in the “Harlem Valley Times” on July 25, 1946:
Walter Carroll Hartson, 80, Wassaic, well known landscape artist, died Friday in Canaan, Conn. He was born in Wyoming, Iowa, son of Lafayette and Loretta Johnson Hartson. On Dec 20, 1888, he married Carlotta Ogden of Wyoming, who died Jan. 27 of this year. Mr. Hartson studied at the Chicago Art Institute, and after some years in that city, moved to New York City, where he combined work in his own studio with the painting of stage scenery. In the early years of the century, he lived in Holland, where he did considerable work in water colors. During that period, he won the Hallgarten prize of the National Academy of Design, the landscape design for a Dutch windmill in the Osborne competition and a bronze medal for honorary mention at the Atlanta exposition. About 20 years ago, he purchased a home in Wassaic and established his studio there, where he continued to record in oil, the beautiful landscape of Duchess county.
By August of 1946, everything that the Hartson’s had once held dear was liquidated at an auction. On August 4, 1946, the “Hartford Courant” advertised “Important Estate Auction of Antiques, Furniture, Bric-a-Brac & Paintings for the estate of the late Walter C. Hartson of Wassaic, New York “(page 38). It is hard not to read through the list of their belongings listed for sale, and not feel profound loss. It is always hard to witness and entire estate liquidated, as it often defined a person, providing great insight into their travels and life. The last paragraph of the 1946 advertisement noted, “The SALE includes a large selection of original works of the late Mr. Hartson, who was a renowned LANDSCAPE ARTIST, having exhibited both in America and Europe, He was a well-known traveler, studying many years abroad. He won many honors, including the National Academy of Design in 1895. First landscape prize, Osborne Competition, New York City, 1904, and was a prominent members of many important artists clubs, including the Chicago Society of Artists, and the Allied Artists of America. This will be a rare opportunity for art lovers to acquire works of this well-known landscape artist. Sale positive. Terms. Cash.”
Their nephew, L. D. Hartson of Oberlin, Ohio, was the administrator of the estate. A professor at Oberlin College at the time, Louis Dunton Hartson was Dewit’s eldest son.
Regardless of the liquidation of Hartsons’ worldly possessions, his scenic art legacy lived on. Near the end of his career, Hartson was remembered by Art Oberbeck. Oberbeck was interviewed by Randi Givercer Frank for her Master’s Thesis, “The Sosman and Landis A Study of Scene Painting in Chicago, 1900-1925” (University of Texas, Austin).” Givercer wrote, “[Hartson] was a New York artist and one of the best exterior painters Art Oberbeck ever encountered. His advice on exterior painting was, “Never paint an exterior using chromes beyond middle distance, Use ochre and cobalt blue for distant green.”
Maquette and setting from the Scenery Collection, stored in the Arts Annex of the College of Visual and Performing Arts at Northern Illinois University.
The Scenic Collection includes elements from the settings of 90 operas, with approximately 900 backdrops and borders and more than 2200 framed scenic units. The stage settings illustrate an exceptional range of production styles between 1889 and 1932. In addition to the scenery there are 3 dimensional units including furniture and properties. Furthermore, the collection is supported by an extraordinary archive of production notebooks, property lists, inventories, expense records, performance time sheets, correspondence, original photographs of the sets, selected costumes, and opera stars of the period, ground plans and blueprints, painters elevations and renderings, original costume and set design drawings, and 120 exquisitely painted and detailed ¼” scale maquettes of the settings.
Unfortunately, some of the scenery has been damaged since initial documentation. The roof leaks and flooding is a problem due to non-working sump pumps.
Harry A. Vincent was a scenic artist who began working with Thomas G. Moses at Sosman and Landis in 1892. His association continued with the firm until 1896 when he moved east and secured work as a scenic artist in New York. In 1922, Moses remembered Vincent as one of the scenic artists who made a name for himself, writing, “Harry A Vincent applied to me for a position. I tried to convince him that he was foolish to break into a business that had a future only in hard work. He succeeded and has become one of the cleverest landscape painters in America. Many of his pictures are being reproduced and selling well. He is now in Italy on a sketching trip.”
Harry Aiken Vincent was born in Chicago in 1861. He was the youngest child of Aiken Vincent (1816-1881) and Sarah Ann Clark (1825-1918). His mother’s obituary was published on Dec. 17, 1918 and remembered, “Mrs. Vincent was the widow of Aiken Vincent, a paymaster at old Fort Dearborn. Mrs. Vincent frequently related to her children and grandchildren takes of Indian visits” (Chicago Tribune, page 19). Her obituary also noted that she moved to Chicago in 1842. On Dec. 14, 1842, she married her husband. The couple celebrated the birth of four children in the young and bustling western town. Harry’s much older siblings were Catherine M. (b. 1846), Sarah J. (b. 1848), Hamilton Edwin Vincent (b. 1950). Harry was born eleven years after his brother Hamilton, and remained at home well after his father’s passing in 1881.
In 1860, the year before Harry was born, the Vincent family was living at 8 N. Canal street. At the time, the Federal Census listed Aiken Vincent listed as a merchant, a career that he continued throughout his life, although the types of products he sold often changed.
In 1878, the Vincents were residing at 96 Artesian Ave. and Harry Vincent was listed as an artist in the Chicago Directory. He would continue to live at this same address until 1887. In 1884, however, he married to Catharine “Kittie” Frances Ryan (b. 1863). Kitty, or Katy as she was called at home, was the daughter of William and Catharine Ryan. She grew up in Chicago and had two sisters, Bridget and Ann. Kittie and Harry two were married on Feb. 7, 1884 in Chicago. They celebrated the birth of two daughters, Ruth E. (b. ca., 1891) and Catharine (b. 1896).
Harry was not listed in the Chicago City Directory for 1888, but by 1889 was working at 263 State St. and living at 125 Sibley. Merchants located at 263 State ranged from a photography studio to Martin Emerich Outfitting Co. In 1889. Vincent exhibited with the Chicago Society of Artists. On October 20, 1889, the “Chicago Tribune” published an article entitled “The Works of Young Artists” reporting, “Harry A. Vincent shows a marshy landscape in oils truthfully studied” (page 3). Frank C. Peyraud and Hardesty Maratta also exhibited their paintings at this time. The three would soon all work for Sosman & Landis, each hired by Thomas G. Moses.
In 1892, Vincent, Peyraud and Maratta were working for Moses as part of Sosman & Landis studio’s West Side Force. That year Moses wrote, “The Sosman and Landis Company had my new studio under way on the West Side. The old Waverly theatre, 93 x 210 feet and 40 feet high; four frames were going in and there was plenty of floor space for all kinds of work.” Moses also noted that his staff consisted of A . J. Rupert, Frank Peyraud and Harry Vincent, and a number of assistants and paint boys.”
In 1892, Moses, Vincent, Rupert and Peyraud painted scenery for William Haworth’s “A Flag of Truth.” Of the project, Moses wrote, “I did a stone quarry set – a very effective scene. Vincent did a big foliage act.” In 1892, Peyraud and Vincent were also part of the sixty-seventh annual exhibition of oil paintings at the National Academy of Design in New York. On April 24, 1892, the “Chicago Tribune” announced that H. A. Vincent’s “A Prairie Farm” and Frank C. Peyraud’s “When the Sun id Slowly Sinking” were part of the New York exhibit. (page 38).
Vincent continued to exhibit his easel art while working as a scenic artist. He was a members of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Cosmopolitan Art Club. By 1894, Vincent, Peyraud and Maratta were part of a group of artists who donated their paintings for a charity. On January 17, 1894, the “Chicago Tribune” advertised that a charity sale of watercolors and oil paintings would be held in the rooms of the Chicago Society of Artists, on the top floor of the Atheneum Building (page 8). It continued ten days and the proceeds were turned over to the Central Relief Association for the benefit of the needy. Vincent also donated paintings as part of a fundraiser for fellow Institute artist Walter M. Dewey. On Feb. 2, 1896, the “Chicago Tribune” reported that Dewey had been ill for several weeks and “His fellow artists, in their sympathy for Mr. Dewey and his family have arranged an exhibition and sale of paintings for his benefit” (page 20).
Vincent’s work as a Chicago scenic artist ended when he moved to New York in 1896. That year, Moses wrote, “In July Mr. Landis dropped in to see me about going back with them, as I was not doing too well. I agreed with the understanding that all my helpers would be taken care of, excepting Vincent, who went East where he made a hit. I hustled my unfinished contracts and joined the Sosman and Landis Studios again.”
By 1897, Vincent was listed as a New York scenic artist. On Nov. 5, 1897, “Star-Gazette” credited Vincent for the stage settings in “Iskander,” a show starring Mr. Warde at the Lyceum Theatre. The New York review reported, “For this great production the scenery is designed and painted by Harry A. Vincent” (Elmira, New York, page 7). Vincent was still listed as a scenic artist in New York City in 1899, living with his family at Park Place, near 8th Ave.
In 1900, the Vincent family moved to New Rochelle, New York. By this time, several of his old friends from Chicago has moved east and were also living nearby; this group included Moses. Moses fondly remembered his sketching trips with Vincent at this time, writing, “John Young and Harry Vincent joined me quite often, as we all lived near the spot. Occasionally I would go to Seton Falls, a very rugged place…Glen Island was another favorite place for us. On a hot day about four o’clock, would run down to 21st Street Dock and take the boat around the Battery to Glen Island where the family would join me for a fine shore dinner. It was a short car ride from here to Mt. Vernon, so it was very convenient for the family to come and return by the way of New Rochelle. Occasionally, we would take a ride to Yonkers, then up to Newburgh or West Point on the beautiful Hudson River.”
From 1901-1904, the Moses family lived in Mt. Vernon New York; Moses had partnered with Will Hamilton to establish Moses & Hamilton. By 1905 the Vincents were also living in Mt. Vernon. Prior to their move to Mt. Vernon, however, the Vincents briefly lived in Pelham New York. The 1910 Census listed the family in Mt. Vernon, with their daughters nearly grown. Then something happened; I have no idea what went down.
On October 3, 1916, Harry A. Vincent remarried a woman named Mildred Deitz in Bronx, New York. It is as if his first family simply disappeared, and I have yet to track down any further information about Kittie, Ruth or Catharine. No obituaries, wedding notices or court rulings.
In 1916, Vincent was still listed as a New York artist, living in Mt Vernon. By 1917, he has remarried and moved to New York City. Although he is still working as an artist, he was now living at 904 Ogden Ave. His obituary would note that the couple moved to Rockport, Massachusetts in 1916.
Mildred was a 47-yrs.-old woman from New York, and I cannot locate any additional information about her at all. The two remained married until Harry’s passing in 1931. Between 1916 and 1931, Harry continued to paint, the two traveled overseas and eventually moved to Rockport Massachusetts. For the remainder of their lives, they lived at 30 Atlantic Avenue; Mildred never moved and remained on Atlantic Ave. until her own passing in 1953. In regard to Harry…
On October 1, 1931, his obituary was published in the “Boston Globe” (page 21):
“Harry Aiken Vincent
Rockport, Sept. 30 – Funeral services for Harry Aiken Vincent, 66, one of the outstanding American landscape artists, who died Monday at his home, 30 Atlantic av, were conducted this afternoon from the Vincent residence. The ceremony was private. Rev George Mayo Gerrish, pastor of the Universalist Church, officiating. Cremation will follow.
Mr. Vincent, who has been a resident of the town for the past 15 years, was born in Chicago and achieved fame early in life. For the first 30 years of his professional life he made his home in New York, eventually making his permanent home here.
He held his membership in the National Academy, the New York Water Color Club, the Salmagundi Club, the Allied Artists of America, the Grand Central Galleries and the North Shore Artists’ Association.
In 1907 he won the Shaw Prize of the Salmagundi Club, the Isidor Prize given by that club in 1916, the Turnbull Prize in 1918, the Porter Prize in 1925, the William Church Osborne Prize and the Paul L. Hammond Prize, given by the New York Water Color Club for his painting, ‘Rockport Harbor.’
His wife, Mrs. Mildred (Deitz) Vincent, survives.”
No mention of his first wife or children- odd, unless they dies years ago or were estranged at the time of his death.
Vincent’s artwork lived on…
In 2015, twenty sketchbooks and a portfolio of loose drawings by Harry A. Vincent were sold at auction for $12,300; here is the link: https://www.skinnerinc.com/auctions/2818T/lots/1167 Several of the sketchbooks in the lots were inscribed “H.A. Vincent,” with two inscribed “P. Cornoyer.” Probably a good thing that this this wasn’t on my radar at the time.
A few of the sketch books in the auction lot from 2015.
The auction lot not only included pencil and charcoal sketches of various sizes, but also three books belonging to Vincent – The Whistler Book, Dante’s Inferno by Gustave Dore, and A History of Architecture. One of Vincent’s sketchbooks was an artistic record, thumbnail sketches of various works and notes regarding their sale at galleries. I have to wonder if there were any scene designs included in those sketchbooks. Regardless, I am grateful for the digital age and the many examples of his sketching techniques posted online. There are currently several pencil sketches attributed to Vincent for sale on ebay, and likely from this collection. If they were more intriguing sketches, I would have bought one by now.
Scenic art examples from the Scenery Collection, stored in the Arts Annex of the College of Visual and Performing Arts at Northern Illinois University.
The Scenic Collection includes elements from the settings of 90 operas, with approximately 900 backdrops and borders and more than 2200 framed scenic units. The stage settings illustrate an exceptional range of production styles between 1889 and 1932. In addition to the scenery there are 3 dimensional units including furniture and properties. Furthermore, the collection is supported by an extraordinary archive of production notebooks, property lists, inventories, expense records, performance time sheets, correspondence, original photographs of the sets, selected costumes, and opera stars of the period, ground plans and blueprints, painters elevations and renderings, original costume and set design drawings, and 120 exquisitely painted and detailed ¼” scale maquettes of the settings.
Unfortunately, some of the scenery has been damaged since initial documentation. The roof leaks and flooding is a problem due to non-working sump pumps.
Edward A. Morange worked with Thomas G. Moses at Sosman and Landis in the early 1880s. He eventually made quite a name for himself in New York and gained a national reputation as a scenic artist, designer and art director. I am going to start with Morange’s personal life before presenting his artistic accomplishments, as it helps provide context for his achievements amidst struggle.
Edward A. Morange was born on March 20, 1865, in Cold Springs, New York. He was the son of Edward B. Morange (1838-1904) and Ellen F. Morange (1838-1888). His father was a machinist who moved west shortly after Edwards birth, relocating the family to Davenport, Iowa. Edward was the third of five children born to the couple. His siblings were William, Emma, Justina and Agnes. By 1880, the Morange family was living in Chicago. This placed Edward in the right place at the right time to begin a scenic art career. The earliest mention of Edward in the newspaper dates from June 26, 1880. That year, the “Chicago Tribune” reported that he received a Foster Medal for his scholarship at the Dore School, one of the largest public schools in Chicago at the time.
After graduation, he soon started a career in scenic art, starting as an apprenticeship at Sosman & Landis and studying at the Art Institute of Chicago. Morange also started painting scenery at the Grand Opera House and going on sketching trips with his colleagues. In 1882, Morange primarily sketched with Moses, Hardesty Maratta and John H. Young. Of these sketching trips, Moses wrote, ““we certainly had some good trips…We were all working in watercolor. Most of our trips were along the river where we found good material and a lot of adventures – too numerous to mention. One Sunday we were sketching a grain schooner that was ready to leave at the Rock Island Elevator. A tug arrived to tow it from the lake. We objected as we had some work to finish on the sketch. The tug Captain was good-natured and invited us aboard the tug. We finished the sketch and rode out in the lake beyond the water crib some three miles. The Captain brought us back to Washington Street. We were profuse in our thanks and we were also satisfied. It gave the crew something to talk about.”
In 1883, Moses, Young, Morange and Maratta headed west to Breckenridge to see the mountains and gather source material. Moses catalogued the trip and also recorded Morange and Maratta’s early departure, writing, “Morange and Maratta were getting tired of the hard bed and indifferent food, so after a week of it they packed up and started east. The same day, Young and I started for Dillon by rail.” It is ironic that Morange departed early, as the remainder of his career would be highlighted by sketching trips throughout the world
By the late 1880, Morange met the love of his life, Julia Sowersby. The two were first mentioned in an “Inter Ocean” article on January 13, 1888 (page 8). Each participating in a Grand March at De Berg’s Hall in Chicago, an early Leap Year celebration. In 1890, the two married and began their adventure. Julia was born on Feb. 12, 1867, in Chicago. The daughter of Francis R. Sowersby and Eliza Jeffs Sowersby, her ancestors emigrated from England in 1800, initially settling at St. Catherines, Ontario, Canada, before moving to the United States. I doubt that she had any idea what being married to a scenic artist would mean over the years.
In 1893, the couple celebrated the birth of their first son in Chicago shortly after the opening of the Columbian Exposition. Morange had been hired to design some of the exhibits that year, as his career was starting to take off. By 1895, the couple was living in Washington, D.C. and soon celebrated the birth of their second child. In Washington D.C., Morange studied at the Corcoran School of Arts and Design. On May 18, 1896, their second son, Leonard Sowersby Morange, was born while the Morange’s were living in Washington, D.C. It is purported that Kern wrote “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” in the Morange home and had hoped that Leonard would return home from the war and possibly join him in musical venues. There is some credence to this tale as on Sept. 21, 1920, the “Evening World” reported “As it Should Be.” Jerome Kern, composer, P. O. address Bronxville, has a big heart. One thing he hates to see is embarrassment on the part of a friend. The other evening, he had E. A. Morange, the scenery man, over for dinner. When the guest sat down at his table, he found eight spoons and forks at his place, all properly tagged. One bore a tag reading ‘Soup’, another ‘Coffee,’ a third ‘Ham,’ and so on. Guided by the tags Mr. Morange didn’t make a single faux pas” (New York, page 20). The two had remained especially close after the passing of Leonard two years earlier.
Leonard left his studies at Yale in 1917 to join the Canadian Flying Corps and was appointed as instructor in the Royal Flying Corps. After being sent to England, he died during a training incident when two student planes collided near Shotwick on 11 August 1918. After his passing, the Bronxville American Legion Post named after him. On March 3, 1928, the “Bronxville Review” remembered the history of Leonard S, Morange and the American Legions Lodge, stating, “It is a proud honor that this post has the heritage of the name of so gallant an officer who not only gave his all for a cause but for an Ally in order to gain that service earlier when it was so seriously needed before his own country had flyers on the front.”
His older brother Irving also served as a First Lieutenant the American Airforce on the western front. At the time of Leonard’s passing, Irving was already credited with shooting down three German airplanes. Sadly, Irving passed away from pneumonia in 1926. At the time he was working in Memphis.
By 1900, the Morange family moved to New York. On October 7, 1903, their younger sister Leila was born and baptized that fall. The family continued to thrive as Edward’s career appeared to be unstoppable, at least until the beginning of WWI. In regard to Leila, she eventually married Leland Hanson and celebrated the birth of two children, Joan (b. 1930) and Leland Jr. (b. 1931).
The births of the three Morange children in Chicago, Washington, D.C. and New York mark the family’s transition from the Midwest to the East Coast. Initially, Morange’s stage work in Chicago led him to work on outside projects with many other Sosman & Landis artist including, David A Strong and Ernest Albert. By 1889, Morange and Strong were working together. On March 8, 1889, the “Chicago Tribune” reported, “A bill for a partnership accounting was filed by Edward A. Morange and David A. Strong against James G. Jansen of Jansen, Morange & Co., dealers in materials for making blackboards” (page 10).
It was in Chicago during 1894 that Edward A. Morange would meet his eventual business partner, Francis “Frank” Edgar Gates. During the day, the two studied fine art and in the evenings, they painted scenery. Later, Frank’s brother, Richard Henry Gates, joined the team. Frank and Richard Gates received their academic training at the School of Fine Arts, Washington University, St. Louis. An article in “The Scenic Artist,” noted “they were practically brought up on theatre from almost infancy, being in a family of theatrical managers, musicians and actors, it was natural that the stage should appeal to them” (Vol. 1, No. 8, December 1927, page 8). The Gates were a family of theatrical managers, musicians, and actors. Frank and Richard eventually partnered with E. A. Morange to form the studio Gates & Morange by 1897 (see past posts from Tales of a Scenic Artist and Scholar, parts 149, 171, and 189-91).
Although Gates and Morange had worked on many projects together, their first Broadway credits date from 1897 – “Straight from the Heart” by Sutton Vane and Arthur Shirley. The scenic studio of Gates & Morange was to become one of the premiere scenic studios during the early twentieth century. Although starting in Chicago, they soon moved their company to New York to produce settings for dozens of Broadway shows. Their first Broadway credits date from 1897 – “Straight from the Heart” by Sutton Vane and Arthur Shirley. Artists that worked for their firm over the years included Thomas Benrimo, William E. Castle, Charles Graham, Alexander Grainger, Arne Lundberg, and Orestes Raineiri. The New York Public Library also holds the Gates & Morange Design Collection (1894-1953), containing original set designs, curtain designs, olio designs, trade show designs, and several exhibitions.
By 1907, their incorporated their partnership. On Feb. 7, 1907, the “New York Time” announced the incorporation of “Gates & Morange, Inc., North Pelham (stage settings) capital $100,000, Directors – F. E. Gates, Tucakahie; E. A. Morange, Mount Vernon; R. N. Gates, Bronxville.” (page 13). Morange was also integral in establishing the eastern affiliate of Sosman & Landis, New York Studios shortly after incorporating Gates and Morange. In 1910, David H. Hunt, Secretary and treasurer of Sosman & Landis, established New York Studios. He was one of the initial stockholders; at the beginning the firm’s stockholders included David H. Hunt, Adelaide Hunt, Edward Morange, Henry L. Rupert, and W. E. Castle. New York Studios listed Adelaide A. Hunt as the President, Edward A. Morange as the vice president, and David H. Hunt, as the Treasurer. The company’s starting capital was $40,000, and listed the following directors: Edward A. Morange, Adelaide A. and David H. Hunt, with offices located at 325 W 29th Street, New York. Business listings noted that theatrical equipment was the primary product produced by the company.
It was during this time that Morange was gaining a national reputation, helping secure Gates and Morange an incredible amount of work. Throughout the duration of Gates & Morange; Morange was the primary visionary and traveler, gathering source material for their designs. Gates managed the studio and the contracts.
Edward A. Morange’s passport picture.
In 1908, the U. S., Government sent Morange to the Northwestern Territory to make sketches preparatory to painting a mammoth panorama for the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific exposition in Seattle, Washington. Morange also painted scenes for the government of Yosemite, Yellowstone National Park, Glacier National Park, the Grand Canyon, and many other areas. Morange constantly took advantage of painting from nature, keeping research files from trips throughout the World. However, his grandest adventures were with George C. Tyler, the head of Leibler & Co., and English Director Frederick Stanhope.
Their international adventures began in 1911, necessitating Morange applying for a passport on March 20, 1911. He was preparing to visit England and Havre, but ended up touring England, France, Germany, Algeria and Tunis for two months. His physical description at the time was listed as 5’-5”, high forehead, broad mouth, square chin, dark brown hair (with grey and parted in the middle), blue grey eyes, ruddy complexion and smooth shaven. In 1991, he was 46 yrs. old and living with his family in Mt Venon, New York. Richard H. Gates certified the information on Morange’s application was correct. The purpose for Morange’s trip was to gather information for the upcoming production, “The Garden of Allah.” Years later, a story from the trip was included in his obituary:
“Mr. Morange spent the summer of 1911 in Africa gathering material. While on this trip an attempt was made to affect the first crossing o the Sahara desert by automobile, and effort that failed eleven miles from the starting point when Mr. Morange’s car was buried in a sandstorm.” His experience was first shared in “Staging a Sandstorm” by Wendell Phillips Dodge in 1912 (The Theatre, Volume 15, 1912. Here is the article, as it is just wonderful:
“The busiest actor on the stage of the Century Theatre, where Robert Hichens’ drama, ”The Garden of Allah,” is still attracting large crowds, is the sand man. Though he occupies the centre of the stage only about one-fifth of the time that it takes Lewis Waller to give Boris Androvsky’s long soliloquy, he nevertheless grips the audience more than any other incident in the play.
While the sand man does not appear in the cast, still he is very much in evidence behind the scenes. For his one big scene he requires the entire stage from the foots to the backdrop, from wings to wings and from the boards to the flies; and for his quick-change dressing-room he must have the great thirty-foot deep pit, the breadth and depth of the stage itself, which extends under the stage. For his “make-up” he requires almost a ton of dry colors for the ground alone, and no less than three hundred pounds of powder for the high lights. In making up he has to use eight tables and is assisted by thirty dressers in putting on his costume. His “make-up” is put on with the aid of a dozen powerful electrical blowers, in order to give the right blend, and his costume is made to fly before the breeze by an electrically-driven stage gale that would make the winds of Chicago’s lake front seem like a gentle summer’s night air ripple. He makes his entrance at top speed and keeps on moving in a whirling-dervish sort of a way throughout the scene, occupying the centre and every other part of the stage at once and all the time until the close of his speech, which is the most heart-body and-soul-rending in the whole play, filling the minds and hearts of the audience with all the emotions that exist between earth and sky.
In order to stage the sandstorm in “The Garden of Allah.” in spirit and in truth, George C. Tyler, of the firm of Liebler and Company, went into the heart of the great Sahara Desert, accompanied by Hugh Ford, general stage director, and Edward A. Morange, of the firm of Gates and Morange, scenic artists, and laid siege to an actual and ferocious sandstorm which they captured and have transported in all its fiery temper to the Century Theatre, New York.
Mr. Tyler sent his automobile to Cherbourg, and from there the motor trip into the desert began. At Marseilles, they embarked on the Ville d Oran, a small boat, to the African coast. After a rough passage the party reached Philippeville, from which point they put out for the Sahara. On the road between El-Arrouch and Le Hamma the sight of the “devil wagon” spread consternation, once entirely demoralizing a caravan, causing a stampede of camels. After some hours of speeding over the sands of time, the party passed El Kantara. Another hour and they arrived at an oasis in the centre of which lies the city of Biskra. Here they met Mr. Hichens, and after a reading of the dramatization of his novel amid the true atmosphere suggested in the book, they started out to reach the heart of the desert. Theirs’ was the first automobile that had ever penetrated the sands of the Sahara, and this it did to such an extent that on one occasion it sank so deep it took six donkeys and a camel to pull it out of the hole it dug as it plowed through the sand, embedding itself deeper and deeper with each drive. They were no sooner out of this difficulty than they ran into a real sandstorm.
“We had been gone from Biskra a short three hours,” said Mr. Morange, “when we began to find it necessary to put on our goggles and raincoats to protect our bodies from the sand, lifted and swirled around by intermittent, playful gusts of wind. Looking at” a herd of camels, probably an eighth of a mile away, we noticed that different groups of them would suddenly be veiled to our view while others to both sides would be perfectly visible. Turning to look at the low hills that stand out dark against the sands in front of them and darker still against the sky beyond, we saw faintly what appeared to be steam, along the surface in various shapes, rising from the sands as they approached the dark hills, and veiling them until they, the sky above and the sands in front melted into one even tone of light, misty, yellowish gray. Around the veiled mass the sun was shining. A feeling of discomfort, not unmixed with anxiety, possessed our party as the bright sun, with which we started out, disappeared. To move our jaws but slightly found us grinding sand with our teeth, and we instinctively tied our handkerchiefs around our heads, covering our nostrils and securing some protection for the mouth. We could no longer pick out the road that but a few moments before was well defined by the ruts made by the mail diligence that regularly struggles between Biskra and Touggourt. The shifting sand had been blown over the road as snow might obscure a highway. We had gone to the desert for ‘atmosphere’ and we were getting it with a vengeance.
We stopped the car, as we all agreed that it would be dangerous to proceed. From the direction from which we had noticed many little whirling steam-like gusts appear, we were now startled by the appearance of a huge irregular cloud, probably a hundred feet in width, moving rapidly toward us. A curious feature of it was that the bottom of it seemed to clear the ground, often rising and sinking alternatively. The color of the cloud was much darker than that of the sands around it. It was of a rather dirty yellowish red, but very luminous in quality. A half dozen camels that we could dimly distinguish, crouched or knelt, huddled together, stretching their necks close to the ground, their heads turned toward the approaching cloud. “The edge of this cloud, nearest to us, seemed entirely independent of the surrounding atmosphere, but as we were directly in its path, we instinctively closed our eyes, crouched in the automobile and turned our backs on it, as one would a blinding onslaught of snow and sleet. We were conscious of a hot, stinging sensation in the parts of our flesh exposed and a peculiar whistling, swirling rush of something passing over us for a few seconds. When I partially opened my eyes. I realized that it was almost as dark as night. When it grew lighter, we found ourselves in a yellowish, smoky fog of fine sand. We had to wait for probably fifteen minutes before the air cleared sufficiently for us to distinguish objects fifty feet away. Protected in the car as well as we were, we were still half-choked with sand. Little piles of sand were heaped up in front of the wheels and in all places that would allow them to form, as drifts of snow might pile. At this moment, we fully realized the oppressiveness of this dreary waste, this awful ocean of seemingly boundless sand.”
The question now was how to transfer the real, living sandstorm to the stage of the Century Theatre. Stage sandstorms date back more than twenty years, when one was introduced in Fanny Davenport’s production of “Gismonda.” This sandstorm, naturally, was very crude, since in those days there was no such thing as light effects nor stage mechanism. The players themselves created the sandstorm by tossing handfuls of Fuller’s earth over their heads to the accompaniment of the rubbing of sandpaper in the wings to give the suggestion of wind blowing. Belasco put over the first realistic sandstorm in “Under Two Flags,” causing Fuller’s earth to be blown through funnel-like machines from the wings, while at the same time stereopticon cloud storm effects were played on gauze drops. Mr. Belasco also introduced the now famous bending palm to stage sandstorms, to convey the idea of motion. Once when “Under Two Flags” was produced in San Francisco the local stage manager told the property man to get something that could be blown across the stage, to be used in the sandstorm scene. There was not time for a scene rehearsal, but the property man connected a “blower” made out of a soap box with the ventilating system, and as the cue was given, tossed heaps of flour into the box to be blown over the stage. The play ended right there, with scenery and everything covered as if a blizzard had struck the place! It required weeks to get the flour off of the scenery, to which it stuck and hardened. Last year Frederic Thompson introduced a sandstorm in a scene showing the Western Bad Lands, sawdust being blown from the wings. But the sawdust scattered everywhere, even into the orchestra.
Messrs. Tyler and Ford found no bending palms in the storm they witnessed and encountered on the Sahara, so no bending palms appear in “The Garden of Allah” sandstorm. Yet motion is suggested by other means—the robes of an Arab going across the stage waving, the sides of the Arab tent flapping in the wind, the garment of Batouch, Domini’s servant, fluttering when he emerges from the tent to tighten the anchorage rope to the windward. Besides these things, there is the whirling swirling sand forming real sandspouts, such as have never before found their way on the stage.
To create the actual whirlwind that blows the sand at the Century Mr. Ford installed under the stage a series of powerful electric blowers, and connected these with pipes leading up through the stage flooring at carefully planned points of vantage. One set of pipes is located by the left-stage tormentor near the front of the tent, and another on the other side of the proscenium by the right-stage tormentor. There is another set of these pipes hidden behind the tent towards the centre of the stage, and still another set backstage. The pipe sets consist of four pipes such as are used for drain-pipes on houses, of different heights and with the openings placed at slightly different angles. Under the stage alongside of the electric blowers are two rows of troughs, one on either side of the stage, into which a dozen men feed the “sand,” which is forced up the pipes and blown at a rate far exceeding that of any windstorm ever experienced on land or sea! In all there are twenty blowers, arranged in four series of five each. Another single blower is placed in the left-stage tormentor and blows only air, to dispel the continuous streams of sand blown through the pipes by the other blowers. The pipes are so placed and arranged on the stage as to provide a continuous whirling swirl of sand, never ending, never-ceasing, ever increasing in its fiery fury, until the storm quiets down and the light of day brightens the scene.
Mr. Ford placed the pipes at different angles so that each one would send a stream of sand that would cut and dispel the stream from another pipe, thus obtaining a continuous spiral sandspout instead of a streak of sand like the tail of a comet from each pipe. Also, the three sets of pipes used for creating the sandstorm are started and worked alternately, beginning with the set in front of the tent, then the set at the right side of the proscenium, and finally the set beside the tent, towards the centre of the stage. This alternate movement gives the swirling effect that makes the storm real. The one set of pipes placed back stage behind the tent, however, shoots straight across the stage in order to give a cloud of mystery and add density to the scene.
About three hundred pounds of sand is blown through the four sets of pipes at each performance. This is kept from blowing into the auditorium by means of an “air curtain” at the foot lights and at the first entrances, enough pressure of compressed air to keep the “sand” back. The sand used is nothing more nor less than good old cornmeal! Three hundred pounds is wasted at each performance—enough to feed a whole ranch!
Cornmeal was resorted to after everything else, including sand itself, had failed to blow and act like sand on the stage. Real sand from Fire Island beach was first tried, but besides being too heavy to be kept swirling in the air, it did not look like sand when the lights were thrown on it. Real sand on the stage when the lights were thrown on it as it was blown across the stage looked like so much soft coal soot.
The heaps of sand on the stage, forming the minor sand dunes, and also the ground of the desert, are composed of ground cork, painted an orange yellow. Cork is used because it is clean and dustless and easily handled.
To light the sandstorm, Mr. Ford uses only the footlights, the central portion being a deep orange with a deep blue on either side. This keeps the heart of the storm, so to speak, in the light, and the edges are blended away into the darkness at the sides of the stage, providing not only absolute realism, but shadings that suggest the most delicate of pastels. The wonderful lighting of this scene shows the varying color emotions of the desert, with its sand dunes of the palest primrose, and the purple fury of the desert storm.
Stereopticon storm cloud effects are thrown on the sand curtain formed by the cornmeal slung across the back of the stage by the pipes put there for that purpose, and on a gauze curtain just behind, from arc-lights placed on two lighting tops built on either side of the proscenium.
To obtain the delicate pastel light effects of the sandstorm and of the other desert scenes in “The Garden of Allah,” Mr. Ford first painted the scenes with stage lights using the remarkable switchboard of the former New Theatre for his palette, and the clouds of cornmeal as his canvas. In that way, having the true picture of the sandstorm, which he had himself seen in the Sahara in his mind, he achieved what no one else ever has done before—he has, “in spirit and in truth,” transported the sandstorm of the desert, with all its multitudinous shades and shadows, feelings and emotions, to the stage.
On Jan. 6, 1913, the “St. Louis Star and Times” published an article written by Morange, entitled “A Visit to the Wonderful Home of Wonderful Loti.” After designing and painting scenery for “The Garden of the Gods,” Morange was involved with “The Daughter of Heaven,” a play of Chinese life by Pierre Loti and Judith Gautler, produced by Liebler & Co.
Morange received a noted form G. C. Tyler of the Leibler Co. on Jan. 2, 1912, that stated, “Tomorrow, at 11, if convenient, we’ll take up the matter of a successor to ‘The Garden of Allah’ at the Century. Prepare to put your summer at my disposal.” The summer before, Tyler, Hugh Ford, the stage director and Morang traveled to “the heart of the desert of Sahara, one of the most interesting trips ever taken, in order that we might absorb Algerian atmosphere preparatory to staging Hichens play.” Morange explained that he reported promptly at 11. “Well,” said I, ‘where do we go this summer? To India?” “No,.” said Tyler, “next year’s spectacle at the Century will be a drama of modern China.” “Then we go to China,” I suggested. “Better than that,” said Tyler, “I am going to take you to the wonderspot of the world. We go to Rochefort.” I need no further. Explanation. Since my early youth I had been an enthusiast over modern French literature. And of its motley crew of masters, one figure stood forth in highlight. “We go to see Pierre Loti?” I gasped. “Right,” replied Tyler. “Loti has written for us a Chinese play entitled ‘The Daughter of Heaven”…”No Americans have ever visited Loti at his home before.” Tyler went on. “We sail early in March. My automobile will meet us at Cherbourg and after a few days in Paris, we proceed directly to Loti’s home.” The program was carried out to the letter.” There is much more to the article, but I am stopping here.1912 was also the year that the Morange Family moved to Bronxville, New York. Edward and Julia would remain in Bronxville for the remainder of their lives.
In 1914 Morange was listed as the art director for a silent movie, “The Great Diamond Robbery.” This six-reel film was assembled by the Playgoer’s Film Company of New York City, shown in five acts, 6 parts, 250 scenes. Listings advertised, “It is indeed a masterpiece of photoplay productions” (“Altoona Tribune,” 8 May 1914, page 3). The film was based on the play by Edward M. Alfriend and A. C. Wheeler. On March 20, 1914, the New York Tribune published, “At last a theatrical manager has put on a legitimate drama, with a cast composed entirely of screen novices, but stage veterans. The resulting motion picture more than justifies the effort…‘The Great Diamond Robbery’ is a melodrama which was produced in New York about twenty years ago, when it ran for about a year in the American Theatre. It is adorned with regular melodrama features, such as a beautiful villainess, a working girl heroine and gallant detective, who foils assorted criminals and marries the working girl. But the story is nevertheless one that holds attention.” Wallace Eddinger starred as detective Dick Brummage in a case involving a Brazilian adventurous (Gail Kane) and the theft of the fabulous Romanoff diamonds. When Detective Brummage proved Kane’s guilt, she took poison.
It is right around this time that life began to change for the Morange. The war began, his sons enlisted to serve, and Leonard perished. He continued to succeed in business, but some of the spark left him. On May 8, 1920, he applied for a passport to visit Leonard’s grave in England. In regard to his reason for travel on his passport application, he initially wrote, “To visit my son’s grave,” but then crossed it out and wrote, “to tour and visit friends.” Morange’s application at the time listed that he lived outside of the United States for the following periods:
England/France/Germany/Algeria/Tunis April 1911-June 1911
England/France May 1912-June 1912
England/France March 1914-June 1914.
Further information on his application noted that That he was currently living in Bronxville, NY and worked as a scenic artist. His last passport was from March 1911. He was planning travel to England and Havre and initially wrote (visiting my son’s grave, then crossed that out and wrote touring and visiting friends.
Throughout the 1920s, the reputation of Gates & Morange continued to grow. In 1927. The “Scenic Artist” featured an article about the firm, concluding, “It is refreshing to know that here is one studio housing a large staff of academically trained artists that has kept pace with the insurgent movement with its radical and liberal tendencies, which has been at work in recent years in the theatres of Europe and America. That Gates & Morange have accepted what is sane and beneficial of this movement is readily seen by the numerous beautiful compositions covering the walls of their design rooms and bulging out their portfolios. Through them all is seen the sureness and artistic simplicity that only an artist of thorough and correct draughtsmanship, with a fine decorative feeling, a profound knowledge and delicate sense of color and imagination could create. The present possibilities of producing pleasing or bizarre effects with the highly perfected and easily operated electric equipment of the modern stage, has opened the theatre to the many experiments and faddist illusions that none but an experienced scenic artist could endow with poetical beauty and mystery they exhibit. With all these the stage has not lost its glamour for these artists as the many new ideas and effects around which authors and composers may write plays or revues, upon the initiative of these creators of things novel and beautifully interesting.”
Gates & Morange Design Library. Undated clipping in the scrapbook of Thomas G. Moses (1856-1934).1903-1904 advertisement for Gates & Morange.
Although Morange continued to design and paint, he became involved with Gates on other business endeavors, such as real estate development. On June 30, 1938, the “Bronxville Review” announced, “Edward A. Morange of Sagamore Rd, is a member of the six-man fact finding committee headed by the village trustee Joseph T. Creamer, of Tuckahoe, appointed by Mayor Walter D. Crouch of that village on Tuesday as the initial step by officials to establish a housing authority to eliminate slums” Gates and Morange were heavily invested in the development of Sagamore; they bought multiple lots and developed them, each working with their own architect.
Morange’s roots remained tied to Bronxville, and a lovely obituary was published upon his passing on May 26, 1955. Here is a portion of it, as it sums up a lovely and ambitious life:
“Both a scenic artist and stage set designer, Mr. Morange was a member of Gates & Morange in New York and was active until the start of his illness in 1951. When he joined Frank and Richard Gates, the first firm assignment was painting a curtain for Springfield, Mass., the theaters which helped establish the reputation of the concern. The work was soon in demand and among the scenery Mr. Morange and the firm designed were sets for Florenz Ziegfeld, George C. Tyler, Harrison Grey Fiske, and Leibler & Co. Some of the firm’s settings for Charles Couglan’s ‘Citizen Pierre,’ [or the operetta ‘Off the Earth’] and for ‘The Garden of Allah’ which was not done until Mr. Morange spent the summer of 1911 in Africa gathering material. While on this trip an attempt was made to effect the first crossing o the Sahara desert by automobile, and effort that failed eleven miles from the starting point when Mr. Morange’s car was buried in a sandstorm. He also went to Alaska to prepare a panorama of the region for the U. S. Government. On this trip he developed the idea for the famous totem pole dance which was later incorporated into the musical ‘Rose Marie.” Most of the hits of the day bore the setting credit to Gates and Morange, and included ‘Daughter of Heaven,” and ‘Joseph and his Brethren.’ The Brander Matthews Museum at Columbia University uses some of the company’s models, and in 1949 Mr. Morange’s work was featured in the exhibit “Behind American Footlights” at the Metropolitan Museum. Settings for ‘Promander Walk’ are said to have inspired architectural projects in the Eat, and the apple orchard scene in ‘Leah Kleschna’ and the London Bridge scene in ‘Oliver Twist’ brought special praise form the critics.” His illness started with “a cerebral hemorrhage in a New York motion picture theater. He was brought to Lawrence Hospital by ambulance and later was taken to Connecticut.”
There is so much more that could be written about Morange in terms of his scenic contributions, but that would be a book in itself.
Scenic art examples from the Scenery Collection, stored in the Arts Annex of the College of Visual and Performing Arts at Northern Illinois University.
The Scenic Collection includes elements from the settings of 90 operas, with approximately 900 backdrops and borders and more than 2200 framed scenic units. The stage settings illustrate an exceptional range of production styles between 1889 and 1932. In addition to the scenery there are 3 dimensional units including furniture and properties. Furthermore, the collection is supported by an extraordinary archive of production notebooks, property lists, inventories, expense records, performance time sheets, correspondence, original photographs of the sets, selected costumes, and opera stars of the period, ground plans and blueprints, painters elevations and renderings, original costume and set design drawings, and 120 exquisitely painted and detailed ¼” scale maquettes of the settings.
Unfortunately, some of the scenery has been damaged since initial documentation. The roof leaks and flooding is a problem due to non-working sump pumps.
Jess D. Bonner (1879-1914) worked as a scenic artist for Sosman & Landis, c. 1902-1906. I initially stumbled across his name when looking for information about scenic artist Howard Tuttle. In 1907, Bonner was assisted by Howard’s son, with Maurice Tuttle.
Maurice Tuttle in 1907Jess D. Bonner in 1907
On December 8, 1907, the “Los Angeles Herald” published an article entitled, “Jess D. Bonner and His Work.” After describing Bonner’s scenic contributions for the production of “Cleopatra” and “Sign of the Cross,” the article mentioned his early training in Indianapolis and work for Sosman & Landis. At the time, Bonner was 28 yrs. old.
Here is the article in its entirety, as it provides a wonderful glimpse into backstage life and Bonner and his directing a storm scene for ‘Cleopatra.”
“Did you ever witness a storm in the tropics – a storm that carries before it, punctuating its approach with vivid flashes of lightning through inky blackness and foretelling destruction by an incessant cannonading in the overcast heavens? If you have you will. Appreciate the difficulties of reproducing such a phenomena upon the stage and yet, if you saw the Ferris production of ‘Cleopatra’ at the Auditorium a few weeks ago, you will realize that the task had been accomplished.
“There was a storm, the most realistic and terrible of its kind ever placed upon a Los Angeles stage. From in front of the curtain the effect was tremendous. The storm king, majestic in his wrath, arose at command of the Egyptian queen to destroy the Roman fleet. Darkness fell. A tempest arose. Lightning flashed athwart the horizon, and the crash of thunder was deafening. Great palms swayed to and fro and fell crashing to the stage before the fury of the onslaught. Storm clouds raced madly across the sky. It was nature in hostile mood, a wonderful picture of terribly destructive and unleashed power.
King of the Storm.
“Back of the scenes a young man, short and heavily set, stood calmly regarding his work. This was his storm. He had made it, and his hand was on the lever of its control. He seemed unconcerned in the midst of the tumult. He didn’t even laugh, and certainly the scene was ridiculous enough to compel laughter from the ordinary observer.
“Over to the left of the stage was a wagon piled high with boulders. Its wheels were elliptical, and when conveyance was dragged across the floor a heavy rumble of thunder resulted. High up in the wings was the thunder boy with still more boulders, which, on signal, he dumped into an irregular wooden chute with many turnings. These rocks hurtling stageward in their narrow confines thundered realistically until they struck. At the bottom, a heavy metal sheet put there for that purpose. This was the crash that seemed so fearsome from the auditorium.
“So much thunder. Back of the horizon line stood a stagehand. Jovelike in his control of the clouds. He revolved a painted glass disk at the end of a tin cylinder, back of which was a strong light. The scene, a transparency, caught up the clouds, which then scudded across the sky as though driven by a mighty wind.
How Lightning is Made.
“Still another mechanic controlled the lightning, produced by a similar contrivance, the glass being smoked and black, and irregular lines scratched across its surface by a pin point. This provided the flash outlined against the heavens, while the glare came from two carbons, manipulated by hand and which lighted up the entire stage when brought into contact.
The storm rose to a sublime height of fury, then the curtain fell and the audience broke into enthusiastic applause. Once, twice, three times, the great velvet was raised and lowered. The lights sprang up and in an instant the storm disappeared, the scene was struck and a new one erected in its place.
“Great, Jess, great!” called Dick Ferris approvingly, and Jess D. Bonner smiled and went about his further business. It had been merely an incident in his week’s work.
“Bonner is a young man. He looks scarcely more than a boy and readily confesses that his youthful appearance in the past has militated against his profitable employment, managers being afraid to trust so young a man with the important duties which fall to an artist in his position.
A Master Scene Painter.
“Jess Bonner is a master scene painter. He has painted and designed scenes used in Ferris productions. Every newspaper in town has commented upon the beauty of the work. Every patron of the playhouse has marveled at the lavishness of the productions. Yet few of them ever have heard of Bonner, and probably not one in ten thousand would recognize him on the street. He is the busiest man around the Auditorium. Sedley Brown, stage director, has his troubles and is fairly busy himself, but Bonner, when he is engaged upon a big production, does most of his sleeping paint brush in hand. Last week he built, “Sign of the Cross,” which will be the biggest thing yet placed on the Auditorium stage. There are fourteen scenes in this four-act play, and Mr. Bonner was called upon to turn them out in eleven days’ time. He has one assistant regularly employed – Maurice Tuttle – and a paint boy to help him.
30,000 Square Feet of Canvas.
“For ‘The Sign of the Cross’ production there was a total of 30,000 square feet of canvas to be covered and the task was too great. Consequently, Arthur Hurtt was called upon to assist and Mr. Hurtt painted four drops, which will be shown for the first time tomorrow night. These drops contain about 1500 square feet of canvas each, leaving some 24,000 feet to be painted by Mr. Bonner and his assistant. This includes still other drops, two interiors, one of them a prison scene and the other an apartment in Nero’s palace; a forest scene, wings, borders and so forth. Bonner completed the work late last night. Then he went home with the avowed intention of sleeping through the ensuing twenty-four hours without interruption.
“Jess Bonner began his work as a scene painter at Indianapolis under the direction of Walter Clark Bellows at the Grand Opera House. That was eight years ago. Since then he has been employed in numerous studios and by several different stock organizations. He painted all the scenery for Dick Ferris’ production of ‘The Sleepy King,’ an ill-starred musical affair which Mr. Ferris put out several seasons ago and which proved a failure, though it was produced on a lavish scale and was presented by an all-star cast of musical comedians, headed by Walter Jones.
Was in San Francisco.
“For a year and a half Mr. Bonner was with the Grand and Tivoli opera houses in San Francisco, his employment there being terminated by the great fire. In Chicago he was with the Bush Temple stock Company. In Chicago also he was employed during several summers at the Sosman & Landis scenic studios, the largest in America, and the other night happening to drop in at the Mason Opera house, he saw a scene which he had painted in that employ, not knowing where it was to go or what use was to be made of it.
Mr. Bonner’s work, however, is far beyond that of a mere scene painter. He makes all his own designs. Thus, he must ‘be up’ in all styles of architecture, in all periods of ornamentation; and he must guard constantly against the instruction of the incongruous and the anachronistic. This has made him a student and he is today one of the best-informed men on a wide range of subjects in his profession.
For “The Great Ruby” he painted a scene in the clouds, nothing of earth being visible. For ‘Under the Sea’ he painted a submarine scene. So, as he himself says, his studies are not confined to earth alone, but to the heavens and the waters as well. His is a comprehensive art and he is master in its execution, as well as a master in lighting effects and in all the details of stage mechanics.”
Seven years later, Bonner passed away in Minneapolis, Minnesota. At the time of his passing, Bonner was working as a scenic artist for the Twin City Scenic Co. His obituary was published in the “Indianapolis Star” on November 12, 1914 and the notice stated, “The body of Jesse D. Bonner, formerly of Indianapolis, who died Nov. 7 at Minneapolis, has been brought here for burial. He was born in Indianapolis thirty-five years ago. He was a scenic artist and had been identified with studios in San Francisco, Los Angeles and Minneapolis. He is survived by a widow, a sister, Mrs. Jesse B. Johnston of San Francisco, and a brother Robert O. Bonner of Indianapolis. The funeral will be held tomorrow afternoon at the home of Mr. Bonner’s brother, 201 North Nee Jersey street. Burial will be in Crown Hill Cemetery” (page 14).
Jesse D. Bonner. From his 1914 obituary listing.
Jesse Dun Bonner was born in Evansville, Indiana, in 1879. He was the son of James B. Bonner (1835-1893) and Deborah Anna Houghland Bonner (1842-1912). His parents were married in Warrick County in 1870, celebrating the birth of four children: Estella, Ida, Robert, and Jesse. When their father passed away in 1893, the “Booneville Enquirer” reported that Mr. Bonner was born in Booneville, Indiana, July 2, 1835 and married Miss Deborah Houghland on Jan. 9, 1868. The Bonners moved to Evansville in 1880, where they continued to reside. The article described that Mr. Bonner “was taken from his work by cancer which formed in his side, which first made an appearance last May. In spite of the best medical attention, it would not yield to treatment, and caused his death. Four children are left with his wife to mourn his loss – Mrs. Owen Lloyd of Indianapolis, Robert, Ida and Jesse at home (4 May 1893, page 4). At the time of his father’s death, Jesse was thirteen years old.
His mother’s obituary in 1912 added a little more information about the Bonner’s early life in Evansville and Indianapolis. On August 20, 1912, the “Indianapolis News” reported, “Mrs. Bonner had never fully recovered from an operation she underwent a year and a half ago. She was born in Boonville, Indiana, in 1842, and lived in Evansville for some time before she came to this city in 1898. After coming to Indianapolis, she lived at the home of her son Robert O. Bonner, in the Clarina apartments. She is survived by two sons, Robert O. Bonner of this city and Jess D. Bonner of Minneapolis, Minn., a daughter, Mrs. Estelle B. Johnston of Los Angeles, Cali., and a brother Oscar B. Houghland, of Evansville. Mrs. Bonner was a lifelong member of the Presbyterian church and was actively associated with the church work” (page 4).
Indiana directories provided a trail of breadcrumbs for Jesse’s early work as an ornamental painter and scenic artist. In 1897, he was listed as a decorator in 1897, living with his mother, brother and sister in Evansville. In 1898, he and his sister Ida moved to Indianapolis where they lived together at 1207 N. Illinois. Ida was listed as a music teacher and Jesse as an artist. By 1899, Jesse was living by himself and listed as a fresco artist, boarding at 915. N. Illinois. It must have been around this time that Bonner assisted Walter Clark Bellows at the Grand Opera House. Bonner was listed in the Indianapolis Directory until the 1901, finally boarding at No. 9 in accommodations known as “the Ballard.” By 1902, Bonner had moved to Chicago, Illinois. This is likely when Bonner first worked for Sosman & Landis.
A 1909 article about Bonner and his scenic art mentioned that he worked on the original productions of “The Wizard of Oz and “Arizona.” (Indianapolis News, 24 Nov. 1909, page 5). I have written about these productions in in past posts, as Walter W. Burridge designed the scenery and painted some of the setting for the premiere at the Chicago Opera House. Other scenic artists who worked in the production included Fred Gibson, Herbert Martin and artists from the Daniels Scenic Co. This means that Bonner was one of the assistants in Chicago in 1902. This same year, Jesse D. Bonner was listed under “Marriage Licenses” in the Chicago Tribune.” August 28, 1902, the “Chicago Tribune” listed a marriage license was granted to Jess D. Bonner and Ruby H. Dean, ages 22 and 20. Ruby Hunt Dean was also living in Indianapolis with her mother in 1900, likely when she first met Jesse. The marriage did not last, however, and on July 30, 1909 she married her second husband, Walter K. Lincoln (1876-1930). Lincoln was a lawyer, and they remain together until his passing in 1930. Ruby never remarried lived until 1973. She is buried in Tucson, Arizona.
By 1904, Bonner was living in Minneapolis and listed as a stagehand at the Lyceum Theatre in the City Directory, He was rooming at 1502 Nicollet Ave. By 1906, Bonner was a scenic artist at the Tivoli Theatre in San Francisco. After the earthquake and fire, his relatives searched for him in the newspapers. On May 1, 1906, the “San Francisco Call” published a notice for Bonner: “ANYONE knowing whereabouts of Jesse D. Bonner, scenic artist, late of Tivoli, send word to Governor’s office, Sacramento” (page 6).
By 1909, Bonner was again working as a scenic artist in Minneapolis but completed a project in Indianapolis. On Nov. 24, 1909, the “Indianapolis News” reported, “The palace and garden drop curtains of the new Colonial Theatre were painted by Jess D. Bonner, of Minneapolis, who began his work in connection with the old Grand stock company, of this city. After leaving here he studied in the scenic studio of Sosman & Landis, Chicago. He painted scenery for theaters in Chicago, Minneapolis, Los Angeles, San Francisco and other places, and worked on the original production of ‘The Wizard of Oz,” and ‘Arizona.’ The central idea for the garden drop curtain of the Colonial theater was taken from the drawing for a program cover made by Mr. Williams, cartoonist of the Indianapolis News. Mr. Bonner is yet under thirty years of age” (page 5).
In 1909, Jesse D. Bonner was listed as an artist in the Minneapolis Directory, working for the Twin City Scenic Co. and living in flat 1, 60 N. 12th St. In 1910, Jesse D. Bonner was listed as a scenic artist in the Minneapolis City Directory, living at flat 1, 68 N. 12th. In 1911, he was again listed in the directory, now living at flat 5, 1695 Hennepin Ave. In 1913, he was working for the Twin City Scenic Co. and rooming at 2819 Nicollet Ave.
Jess Bonner’s gravestone at Crown Hill Cemetery, Indianapolis, Indiana.
When Bonner died in 1914, his obituary noted a widow, but did not list a name. At the time of his passing, Jesses was married to Frances. The 1915 Minneapolis city directory listed Frances E. as the widow of Jesse D. Bonner, boarding as 900 22nd Ave NE. This is the same location listed for Jesse D. Bonner in 1914. Interestingly, their last home together was only four blocks away from where my husband and I purchased our first home and lived from 1995 to 2003.
Scenic art examples from the Scenery Collection, stored in the Arts Annex of the College of Visual and Performing Arts at Northern Illinois University.
The Scenic Collection includes elements from the settings of 90 operas, with approximately 900 backdrops and borders and more than 2200 framed scenic units. The stage settings illustrate an exceptional range of production styles between 1889 and 1932. In addition to the scenery there are 3 dimensional units including furniture and properties. Furthermore, the collection is supported by an extraordinary archive of production notebooks, property lists, inventories, expense records, performance time sheets, correspondence, original photographs of the sets, selected costumes, and opera stars of the period, ground plans and blueprints, painters elevations and renderings, original costume and set design drawings, and 120 exquisitely painted and detailed ¼” scale maquettes of the settings.
Unfortunately, some of the scenery has been damaged since initial documentation. The roof leaks and flooding is a problem due to non-working sump pumps.
