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Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1921 Thomas G. Moses traveled from Chicago to San Francisco for a large Shrine project. He wrote, “September 13^th had a very good trip and started work immediately at Flagg’s studio.  After four hard weeks of hustling, we got the big show ready… the big Shrine show opened October 17^th and it was certainly a big hit.  Thousands could not get near the building.” Moses was referring to the San Francisco Shrine Circus that opened on October 17. Of the event the “San Francisco Examiner” announced, “Height of Funmaking Glimpsed at Arabian Ball. Throng Fills Auditorium on First Night of Shrine Circus” (Oct. 18, 1921, page 3).

Moses’ project falls within a period of dramatic growth for the Ancient Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine. The organization is known to many as “the Shrine.” In 1921, there were three steps to becoming a “Shriner”:

Step 1: Complete the first three degrees Freemasonry in a Blue Lodge, becoming a Master Mason.

Step 2: Continue with your Masonic studies in the Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite or York Rite. Both Rites had the option to use theatrical presentations as an educational tool, like morality plays. When a stage was not available, there were still portions of the degree work that was dramatized.

Step 3: Relax after your hard word and join the Ancient Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine. This was intended as primarily a social group; an opportunity to play after all of the hard work was completed.

This was a pretty simple process, like having to complete one grade in school before progressing to another. Ideally, social promotion does not kick in and members are not rushed thought the steps. The point is to learn something at each stage and allow members time  to process the information. For those who simply wanted to join a social group right away, there was always the Mystic Order of the Veiled Prophets of the Enchanted Realm, otherwise known as the poor man’s Shrine. Keep in mind that each step cost a member money, as well as annual dues. This was like any fraternal organization at the time; they all depended on money collected from incoming and existing members.

Over time, the process became streamlined and the stipulated delays between degrees were shortened; this allowed even more members to join and increased overall funding. There was a lot of justification to adopt abbreviated timelines. Then, as today, there were abundant explanations as to why quickly admitting members was a good idea.

Eventually, the Shrine allowed Master Masons to skip all of the “hard work” and just join. For obvious reasons, this did not sit well with either the Scottish Rite or York Rite. This change also interrupted anticipated waves of membership for both the Scottish Rite and York Rite; previously membership ebbed and flowed together within the Fraternity.

For example, if a big group of men became Master Masons, part of this large group joined the Shrine and York Rite as they continued onto the Shrine. You could track the large number progressing their way through the Blue Lodge, Scottish/York Rites, and Shrine. Similarly, if there was a decline in membership of Master Masons, a decline would later follow in all groups. Again, this all cost money, so economic downturns were also a factor. Membership levels also affected the planning and construction of Masonic edifices, as well as the eventual selling. As more and more people joined the Scottish Rite in the early twentieth century, there was enough funding to construct massive Scottish Rite theatres. This wave continued onto the Shrine by the 1920s.The wave of men that joined the Scottish Rite in large numbers from 1895 to 1915, contributed the later construction of Shrine buildings in post-WWI years.

Moses’ 1921 Shrine project was part of this surge. The Shrine not only constructed buildings and banquet halls, but also staged elaborate productions. Many Shrines at this time also began establishing a circus.

The Sosman & Landis Studio depended on Masonic projects for years. New Shrine buildings and circus events promised a significant amount of specialty work and substantial income. They desperately needed to reestablish a link with the Fraternity. Before Joseph Sosman’s passing in 1915, he maintained the Masonic connections, just as Perry Landis maintained Elk connections. Moses was neither a Mason nor an Elk, and the studio’s workload reflected this by 1920.

Unfortunately, it was not until the 1920s that Moses began to realize that in order to land the big Masonic projects, he really had to become a Mason. He eventually would join the Fraternity, but far too late. Moses would not begin the process until 1923. That year he wrote, “March 1^st, I took my first degree in Masonry.  I don’t know when I shall get around to the others; rather interesting and I would like to go through the Shrine.” It would take two more years for Moses to a Master Mason. In 1925, Moses was sixty-nine years old; too old to be a mover and shaker in the organization.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Rae Waszut-Barrett

Backdrop delivered by Toomey & Volland scenic studio of St. Louis, Missouri, to the Scottish Rite Theatre in Richmond, Virginia. Last month I visited the Richmond Scottish Rite and documented the historic scenery collection, dating from 1900-1920.

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Much has been written about Oscar Wilde’s first visit to America in 1882.  That spring, Wilde lectured at the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver and later at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville. The event was advertised in the “Leadville Daily Herald” as  “Oscar Wilde. The Great Apostle of Aesthetics in lecture on Art Decoration” (7 April 1882). On April 13, 1882, the house was packed when Wilde took the stage (Leadville Daily Herald, 6 April 1882). Before Wilde departed Leadville, a group of miners brought him to the bottom of Tabor’s Matchless Mine for a “banquet.” Wilde later commented, “The first course was whisky, the second course was whiskey and the third course was whiskey!” This story has been repeatedly told over time, with Wilde’s fancy attire and his alcoholic intake remaining the primary focus of each tale. 

Wilde represents just one of the many speakers booked at performance venues during the nineteenth century; they all required painted settings. Just like musical performances and vaudeville acts, the stage was set with an appropriate scene for each event. For Wilde, it was an elaborate interior setting, decorated with fine pieces of china, vases and artworks.

Wilde’s appearance at both Denver and Leadville mentioned the used of an interior setting, complete with a balcony and distant landscape.  This was a standard stock setting for each venue. In Denver, the stock setting at the Tabor Grand would have been painted by Henry C. Tryon. In Leadville, the interior setting for Wilde would have been painted by James E. Lamphere.

In the spring of 1882, Henry C. Tryon was working still working as a scenic artist at the Tabor Grand Opera House. By summer, he would venture farther west and work for the Salt Lake Theatre in Utah. During this time, Tryon published a series of articles about art and aesthetics in newspapers across the country. There are similarities between Tryon’s writings and Wilde’s lecture at the Tabor Grand. It makes me wonder if Tryon listened to Wilde’s lecture from the wings, or if he was in the audience at the Tabor Grand. I doubt that he would have missed it, especially considering the subject matter.

I located a very detailed article about Wilde’s lecture from when he was at the Tabor Grand. It was published on April 22, 1882, in the “Fort Collins Courier.” It includes a lovely description of Tryon’s stage setting for Wilde’s lecture. Here is the article in its entirety:

“The great aesthete has come and gone. Oscar Wilde has appeared at the Tabor Opera House. The apostle of English aestheticism has every reason to feel proud of his reception. The audience was a large and highly cultured one; in spite of the bad weather, there was scarcely a vacant seat in the house, outside the boxes. The gallery was crowded and no fault could be found with the behavior of the boys. Some twenty minutes before the lecturer appeared the curtain rose one of the finest stage settings that has ever been seen in the opera house.

There was an elegant background in beautiful dado designs and in subdued tints of white, pink and pale violet. Through the crimson curtains at the center of the stage, was a balcony and a glimpse of a pretty landscape. The furniture was in Eastlake and the floor was covered with Turkish carpets. The center of the stage was a large and beautiful calla lily standing in an elegant porcelain vase and resting on a small table. Under the table was a beautiful crown of many-colored flowers. On either side of the stage were elegant cabinets – of ebony holding vases, ports and various article of bric-a-brac, with quite a variety of pictures. A Japanese fire screen and several pictures on easels were set at other points about the stage. Hung above the stage was a beautiful blue and gold chandelier. The lecturer was late in appearing and the audience was getting impatient, when a small boy, one of the ushers, appeared and poured out a glass of water from a cut-glass decanter for Oscar’s benefit. It was nearly nine o’clock when Oscar finely appeared, coming with a slow step through the red curtains at the back of the stage. He came in so quickly that he was ready to commence his lecture before the audience were aware of his approach. But when once they realized that he was on the stage there was quite a flutter of applause all over the house.

Mr. Wilde is in appearance not so effeminate as some people would have the pubic believe. He is tall, with broad shoulders, and moves with the strong steady step of a coal-heaver. Whatever his ideas of beauty, he has not a beautiful gait and he is too strongly built for the esthetic costume to impress one favorably when he wears it. His general appearance is much like a cartoon displayed in the leading Sixteenth street clothing house. He wore a suit of very elegant dark velvet, which includes a cut-away coat, cut in circular form, knee breeches, low shoes and black stockings. At his neck was a Byron collar with a flossy white neck-handkerchief, while from his snow-shite shirt-front glittered a single cluster of diamonds. His hair was very straight and very long, falling in a dark brown mass over his shoulders and parted directly at the equator. His nose was decidedly long and aquiline, and the general contours of his face was sharp, especially his chin. The most beautiful and striking part of his face are the eyes which are a very deep blue and really beautiful. The forehead is given quite an intelligent appearance from his wearing his hair in such ling masses and parting in the middle. The mount is the most disagreeable feature on his face, being large enough to swallow the whole brood of Philistines. His hands were encased in white kids, the right hand being partially uncovered.

He speaks in a good, full round voice and uses no gestures. Portions of his lecture were really eloquent, especially the descriptions of cities and scenes in sunny Italy. That he is really an enthusiastic believer in what he says and that there was much truth in what he uttered no one will deny. There was no good reason, however, why a callow youth of not more than twenty-six summer should stand in a building which is a marvel of beautiful decoration elegant wood-carving, and which is not surpassed, if it is equaled, by any place of amusement in England, and say that we Americans display no taste for the beautiful in our public buildings. Perhaps, however, the great esthete does not comprehend the value of “taffy.”

He commenced without any form of introduction and without even addressed his audience as ladies and gentlemen. The substance of Mr. Wilde’s lecture was as follows:

In every nation and in every year there is produced a certain amount of artistic taste and artistic talent, Many  people live as if there was no art or beauty in life. But this art and beauty in life is no accident. It is this beauty of decoration which we call art. Is it a thing born in luxury? Not so. It is a thing for all. Art is to the workman the value he places on his work. What we are suffering from in this age is work badly done. How shall we reform this? By giving the people noble and beautiful designs to work from. As soon as you give your people noble and beautiful designes to work you will have found better work. The real power to create work lies with the artisans, the people that work for you and make things for you. The great trouble in America is you give work over to mere machines. Until you change this you will find little true art.

The basis of our work in England is that we have brought together the handicraftsman and the artist. Think not that these can be isolated! They must work together. The school of sculpture in Athens and the school of painting in Venice kept the work in these countries at the head of the world.

All arts area fine arts. There is no art that is not open to the honor of decoration and the rules of beauty.  You must seek out your decorative workman, your handicraftsman, and you must give him the right to his surroundings. The stateliness of architecture and the beauty of men and women on the streets must inspire the workman and artist. All the teachings in the world will be of no avail unless you surround him with those things which please ad delight him. Think of those things that inspired the artist at that Gothic school of Pisa. The artist saw brilliantly lighted palaces, arches and pillars of marble and  porphyry. He saw noble knights with their glorious mantles flowing over their mail riding along in the sunlight. He saw groves of oranges and pomegranates, and through these groves he saw the most beautiful women that the world has ever known. Pure as lilies, faithful, noble and intellectual. Over all, ever present, ever near, that untroubled and sacred heaven which in those days of unquestioned faith was literally peopled with spirits. That was a school where the workman passing to his labor saw such wonderful things about him that he had them wrought in his mind as eternal principles never to be forgotten and there is much I think  in beauty and nobility of dress. Without a beautiful national life all the arts must dies. People must dress, not in dull, sombre, unbeautiful costumes.

When I speak of Italy, I do not ask you to bring back the thirteenth century. The art we require is an art founded on all the inventions and improvements of the nineteenth century. We do not undervalue machinery. There is no opposition to beauty except ugliness. When you find anything ugly, it was made by a bad workman.

Do not mistake the mere material machinery of civilization for civilization itself, Civilization will depend on the noble uses we are willing to mut its materials to. These things are merely noble if we use them nobly.

You must search out your workman. Give him the right surroundings and don’t put your designer in a colorless and barren atmosphere and ask him to produce beautiful things. You must have before him the best decorative work of Europe and America, Work with the artist with the same reverence, the same appreciation, the same love. There is not one of use that could not live with perfect contentment in a neat, plain room, with sunlight and books, No art is much better than bad art. Instead of feeling that art is indeed a science, we are  apt to fly off to glaring colors, horrible to look upon. And you should have a museum; not of stuffed monkeys and giraffes, but you should bring together all the wonders of art in weaving, in painting, in pottery, in architecture and the metals.

In London, one of our strongholds of strength, is the South  Kensington museum. You go there Sundays and you see the workmen going round examining every ornament, every specimen of beauty that men of past ages have wrought.

Color without tone is like music without harmony, mere discord. Perfect art should be like perfect music, every tone answering to another, as every chord answers to another in music. The most beautiful windows in England are always filled with the most gorgeous eastern embroideries. A Japanese artist will always impress you with having put on just the right colors and designs, when painting even a small fan or bit of lacquer.

One of the most absurd things that I ever saw was the young ladies painting moonlights on a bureau and sunlights on dinner plates. Some consideration of the use which the article is to be put should enter into the mind of the artist. It is well enough to have moonlights and sunlights, be we are not particularly pleased to dine off them.  The imaginative artists will tale a plain piece of paper or strip of canvas and convert it into something else, whereas the decorator does not wish to cover up the article or change its purpose, but merely add to its beauty. These things and many others are what your schools of art should teach your young women. I do not think there was ever a real national school of art. Don’t mid what the schools of art in Europe are doing, but have an art of your own. Young civilizations should have the best art because youth should be more joyous and joy should have the purest ideas of beauty. Art requires a strong personal power in the individuals and has not usually flourished among the weak and feeble. All the great schools of the art have been under republics. The art of Athens and Venice was natural and healthy. If you want to know what the folly of a monarch will inflict on a national in the shape of art, look at France with the monstrous dragons and other horrible conceptions of design in the age of Louis XIV. We have lost the art from our life by the horrible character of our architecture.

If an ancient sculptor should ask me where he could find models for his art, I would show him men at the docks unloading a beautiful ship.

Wherever in your fields you find men driving cattle or women drawing water, there you will find models of beauty. Gods and goddesses. Kings and queens, were carved and painted by Greeks and Romans. But I think that in America you do not care as much for gods and goddesses, and still less for kings and queens. What you have daily before, what you love most dearly and believe in most fondly, that is where your art lies. No country can compare with America for its resources and beauty. If you build in marble, you must remember that it is a precious stone. A man has no right to build in marble unless he will use it nobly. One should either carve it in long lines of joyous decoration, or decorate it in colors and tints of real beauty, or else we should inlay it in a way that the people of Pisa did their palaces; otherwise we had better build in red brick, which is not without some beauty. Then there is no reason why you should not build in wood. I think, however, you paint your houses in the most horrible colors here in America. In no single house from New York to San Francisco did I see a single piece of wood that was worth the name. In Switzerland the little barefoot boy will produce carving that will make his father’s house wonderfully beautiful. I know nothing more ugly than modern jewelery. I don’t see why anybody wears it. I think people do not sufficiently remember that the time may come when the simple work of the handicraftsman will  be all to tell our history. Gold has always been a rare thing in Europe, but for you gold is given in exhaustless measure. Gold is not given us, I think simply for speculation. Don’t leave your workman in gold in the background. Go to him and tell him what you like best in decoration and watch him as he draws it out in those magic threads of sunlight that are called gold-wire. In this way you will encourage your workmen. I would wish to see you have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful of think to be beautiful. Whatever art we are to have in the future must be democratic art. I do not mean by this that it must be rough. Art must no longer be the luxury of the rich or the amusement of the idle. It must enter into everyday life of the hard-working masses of the people. This is the reason that we in England put so much stress on decorative art.

You may ask whether are will do anything more than make our life beautiful for us? But art will do more than this. We in England wish our children to grow up to love the beautiful and good, and hate what is evil and ugly. Plato expressed this thought ages ago. The beauty of form and color even in the meanest vessels of the houses we live in will teach the boy to look into that divine harmony of materials life which lies all around us. One of the great faults of modern education is that it attempts to make all culture literary. It has been so much s that we, perhaps, have been lead sometimes to hate books and reading. Instead of teaching a boy that long list of battles of French and English kings that we have learned to call history, if we were to teach him more to use his hands in some of these beautiful and useful arts, we would thus teach him ore morality, for the lies of bad workman cannot be covered; the retribution is immediate, and what people call fine art is founded on perfect truth, perfect honesty and perfect simplicity. We will teach him again to love nature more. When we can teach the boy that no blade of grass and no flower is without beauty then we shall have achieved much All art is praise of God. The carving of a great Gothic cathedral always seemed to me to be a hymn inn God’s honor.

It seemed fitting to Him in earlier ages that He filled the house of His sanctuary with angels and gold and with pillars of purple and crimson. Industry without art is barbarism.

I cannot give a better definition of our principle of art culture than an extract of Keats; letter to a friend in which he says: ‘I have not the slightest reverence for the British public, nor for  anything else than the Supreme Being, the lives of great men and the principle of beauty.’

Let it be for you to create an art by the hands of the people that will please the world. There is nothing in the world around you that art cannot ennoble. There is not an animal, not a bird, not a plant, that cannot be of use to the faithful artist. As there is nothing in life there nothing in mere lifelessness that will not be of use to you. There is not a bit of broken rope, not a basket of wicker work that will not give you ideas of design.

When you have among you young artists don’t leave them in obscurity and dishonor.

The world has practiced so much injustice that it has learned to undervalue applause. Give words of encouragement to the artist.

The voices that live in your mountains have not alone messages of freedom; they speak another language, which the artist must catch and foster in forms of beauty that will never die.

At the conclusion of his lecture, Mr. Wilde left the stage as rapidly as he had stepped upon it, but bowed just at the further end of the platform, at the applause which was accorded him. The audience was very quiet throughout his lecture.”

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1921 Thomas G. Moses worked at Flagg’s studio in Los Angeles, California. Sosman & Landis rented the paint frames for Moses to finish a large project for an upcoming event.

Sosman & Landis was nearing the end of its existence by 1921.  Even though Moses would soon purchase the firm’s name, it would never regain its former glory as a nationwide leader in theatrical manufacturing and supply. Sosman & Landis competitors continued to win projects by underbidding the Chicago firm; one project after another. The studio’s position as one of the largest scenic studios in the United States was rapidly slipping. By 1920 six employees left to start Service Studios, taking with them knowledge regarding the strengths and weaknesses of their former employer. In addition to their departure, many other scenic studios were run by former Sosman & Landis employees. Competitors used their intimate knowledge of Sosman & Landis to their advantage. All the while, Moses kept plugging along, hoping for a resurgence of work and continuing to set his sights on large Masonic contracts. He bet on the wrong horse.

Meanwhile, Moses still had to rely upon an existing network of scenic artists and studios. There is always an interesting balance between maintaining business alliances and being taken advantage of by your competitors. Such was the case between Sosman & Landis and Flagg Studios in 1921.

Edwin H. Flagg ran two scenic studios; one in Los Angeles and the other in San Francisco. In 1921 the firm advertised that “90% of all stage equipment on the coast was provided by their studio” (“Los Angeles Post-Record,” 10 August 1921, page 16). They marketed themselves as the largest scenic studio west of Chicago.

The theatre industry is fickle, often forgetting its visionaries or innovators associated with what may be perceived as passing fancies. Unless scenic artists or leading studios were written about in history books, they disappeared; future generations never even learned of their existence. The life and career of great individuals were lost as time passed, erased from all institutional knowledge. Such was the case with Edwin Harvey Flagg (1878-1927).

Flagg was at the top of his career when Moses rented his paint frames in 1921. At the age of forty-three years old, he was a theatre producer, movie producer, designer and artist, running two massive scenic studios in California. Both of Flagg’s studios would be destroyed between 1923 and 1924, an inconceivable loss. His lifetime of work simply went up in smoke within the course of a year and he never regained his footing. Only three years after this devastation, Flagg passed away in Hollywood on September 19, 1927. He was only 49 yrs. old at the time and his contributions were quickly, fading from memory. In short, his legacy was lost.

Flagg’s obituary provides only a glimpse into his life and career. On September 20, 1927, the “Los Angeles Times,” announced,  

“Edwin H. Flagg Artist, Expires.

Edwin H. Flagg, scenic artist and president of the Edwin H. Flagg Scenic Company, died Monday afternoon at Hollywood Hospital following an illness of three months. He came here from Denver about eighteen years ago and built an extensive business. He made the scenery for some of the largest and most important theatrical productions and at one time produced scenic work for all the houses of the Pantages circuit of theaters. Flagg leaves his widow and a young son, besides Mrs. Genevieve Chain, a daughter, Mrs. Margaret Olinger and Mrs. Hattie Hyde, both of Denver, sisters, and J C. Flagg, a newspaper publisher of Baltimore, a brother, formerly of Los Angeles.The funeral and will be conducted in Los Angeles and arrangements will be announced later (page 18).

For the past week I have reconstructed the life and career of Flagg, as told in newspaper articles and historical records. In a very short period of time, Flagg created a national identity and studio that eclipsed many other firms across the country, including Sosman & Landis. Unlike some studio founders, Flagg was always looking towards the future and reinventing himself, peddling a popular product to the next generation of clients. He was continually adapting during a time of unprecedented change in the theatre industry. As fabric draperies increasingly replaced painted versions, he expanded his services to secure the best and most unique textiles available; suspending them and lighting them in unique ways. He embraced innovative technology and incorporated it into new stage systems. During WWI, many on his staff worked for the newly developed camouflage trade, thus securing additional work as other projects diminished. Flagg Studios dominated new theatre construction immediately after WWI, always keeping an eye out for other projects on the horizon.

The story of Flagg becomes symbolic of many scenic artists, those born the generation after Thomas G. Moses. His generation had to adapt to the ever-changing times, in many ways much more so than the generations of scenic artists before him. He was born during a unique period in American theatre. Flagg was not paralyzed by the “before-and-after” mindset, the same that plagued Moses and many of his colleagues. Flagg represented of an ever-evolving artistic mindset, constantly adapting to new demands in popular entertainment and figuring out how to make even more money.

Flagg was born on June 29, 1879 in Point Edward, Ontario, Canada. He emigrated to the United States in 1891 at the age of twelve years old. Beginning his career as a scenic artist, Flagg soon moved into theatre management. By 1897, he was listed a manager in an advertisement for “Bridget O’Brien, Esq.” at the Lyceum Theatre in Salt Lake City (Salt Lake Herald, 5 May 1897, page 4). Not much is known of his early career at this time, but he primarily remained in the Chicago area. Newspaper articles until 1904 would note Flagg as a Chicago artist. 

Flagg’s early history is difficult to decipher at best. On Jan 11, 1899 Flagg married his first wife, Harriet Myrtle Shriner (1878-1976) in McDonough, Illinois. That same year the couple moved west to Colorado and celebrated the birth of Harriet “Genevieve” Flagg, born in Denver on October 12, 1899. Despite their move to Denver, Flagg was still listed as a Chicago artist until he took up residency in Alexandria, Louisiana in 1903.

The earliest mention that I have located of Flagg as a scenic artist is from the “Pomona Daily Review,” in 1902. An article in the California newspaper reported, “Edwin H. Flagg had just completed his scenery painting at the Pomona Opera house, after a week of artistic work in scene painting and the production of clever advertisements. He left with his wife for Chicago this morning (“Pomona Daily Review,” 6 Sept 1902, page 2). His drop curtain, “The  Harbor of Venice,” was described in detail; a Royal Palace towering above a river, with marketplace and gondolas below. While in Pomona, Flagg also painted a drop curtain for the Armory house (“Pomona Daily Review,” 4 Sept 1902, page 1).

Between 1903 and 1904, the “Edwin H. Flagg Company” was credited with delivering scenery and stage machinery to both the Old Concordia Theatre and New Park Casino in Little Rock, Arkansas. In 1903, the “Arkansas Democrat” reported that the Edwin H. Flagg Company was putting the finishing touches on the Old Concordia’s new stage equipment during a renovation (Arkansas Democrat, 12 Jan 1903, page 2). Flagg would return to Little Rock the following year and paint scenery for the New Park Casino (“Weekly Town Talk,” Alexandria, Louisiana, 21 May 1904, page 7). As with many scenic artists at this time, he ricocheted from one project to another across the country, constantly on the road

By the fall of 1903, however, he worked at Louisiana theatre that would forever alter the trajectory of his career. That October, Flagg painted scenery for the Rapides Theatre in Alexandria, Louisiana. He painted an asbestos drop and drop curtain, as well as a street scene, palace interior, kitchen interior, parlor, plain chamber, prison, garden and wood scene; standard fare for a small theatre at the time (Weekly Town Talk, Alexandria, 24 Oct 1903, page 12). Jack Auslet was stage manager for the Rapides Theatre, but by 1905 Flagg was listed as lessee and the manager of the venue; a position that he would retain until 1908 (The Town Talk, Alexandria, Louisiana, 15 March 1905, page 8).

Flagg settled in Alexandria, Louisiana between 1903 and 1904. He initially invested in a publishing company while continuing to paint. Alexandria’s News Daily listed Col. John C. Tipton as the editor and Mr. Edwin H. Flagg as the publisher for the new firm. (Weekly Town Talk, Alexandria, 28 1903, page 4).This is not really a surprise, as his brother, J. C. Flagg, also entered the publishing profession early on. At the time of Edwin’s passing in 1927, his brother was still noted as a newspaper publisher in Baltimore, Maryland.  The News Publishing Company, Ltd. Of Alexandria was listed as a company specializing in the printing of newspapers, books and other works (Weekly Town Talk, Alexandria, 1 Dec  1903, page 1). This speaks to Flagg’s continued desire for diversification in work; an aspect of his career that would continue for the remainder of his life. This had also been the key for Sosman & Landis Studio from 1890 to 1900. Both Joseph Sosman and Perry Landis invested in a variety of endeavors, including lighting companies, stage machinery, touring productions. In a sense, Flagg picked up where Sosman & Landis left off, soon setting his sights on California. In hindsight, the future of Sosman & Landis was in California, but the company remained firmly planted in the Midwest. Even Moses recorded the pull, writing, “Letters from the Pacific Coast, which offered me all kinds of inducement to come west are all very good, but when I consider my age, I hesitate to make the plunge.”   

Flagg, however, did make the plunge. In 1908, Alexandria’s “Town Talk” reported, “Mr. Edwin H. Flagg formerly manager of the Rapides Theatre, now of Los Angeles, Cal., was in the city last night and left this morning for New Orleans. (25 July 1908 page 6). Flagg moved to California and immediately invested in a scenic company, and then did the unthinkable; something that should have resulted in the end of his career.

In the spring of 1909, Flagg became a major shareholder in the newly incorporated Thompson Scenic company. He then immediately established a competing firm. In Thompson’s company was incorporated in April 1909. Shortly after incorporation, Flagg ceased active participation in the business and organized Edwin H. Flagg Scenic company. By Dec. 23, 1909, Thompson was ousted as president of the Thompson company, also establishing another firm – Charles F. Thompson Curtain Company. Both the Edwin H. Flagg Scenic Co. and Charles F. Thompson Curtain Co. were direct competitors with the Thompson Scenic Co., while still holding controlling interest in the firm (Los Angeles Herald, 26 Jan 1910, page 5).

A. J. Charlotte and J. D. Pitts sought an injunction against Edwin H. Flagg and Charles F. Thompson to prevent them from holding a meeting of the board of directors while engaged in  completing businesses. However, within a year A. J. Charette was employed at the Edwin H. Flagg studio, representing the firm and even closing a drop curtain contract with the Pastime Theatre in New Mexico (“Albuquerque Journal,” 9 Feb 1911, page 6). In two years, the Edwin H. Flagg scenic company was one of the best-known scenic studios in the country, installing over $100,000 worth of theater scenery a year and employing a workforce of 30 artists.

Worked poured into Flagg’s studio and the company completed a series of contracts, decorating theaters and delivering stage scenery and stage fittings across the country.  Projects included San Bernardino’s new playhouse, the Duval Theatre (Jacksonville, Florida), the Daisy Theatre (Montgomery, Alabama), the Pantages Theatre (Winnipeg and Oakland), Modesto Theatre (Modesto, California), Kinema Theatre (Los Angeles), Strand Theatre (Portland), New Billings Theatre (Montana), the Rialto (Phoenix), the Nile Theatre (Phoenix), the New California Theatre, and the New Yost Theatre. He also began working as a producer, establishing the Edwin H. Flagg Musical Company Stock organization at the Hip theatre, investing in a series productions elsewhere too.

Flagg completed projects and life at a rapid pace, even while driving. On October 18, 1913, the “Los Angeles Evening Post-Record” reported, “When Flagg isn’t manufacturing breath-snatching extravaganzas he’s doing some breath-snatching auto driving. As a result, he claims the record of having been pinched 57 times for speeding in 48 states” (page 12). Newspapers also reported that Flagg drove a Buick (Bakersfield Morning Echo, 22 May 1913, page 3). There is nothing quite like living life in the fastlane, until you encounter that first major bump in the road that results in a catastrophic accident.

The period of 1919 to 1921 was a highpoint for Flagg and his studios. He married his second wife, Patricia Manners. Manners was a musical comedy star and pupil of Mme. Aldrich (Los Angeles Times, 29 Dec. 1919,  page 20).  She was part of Flagg’s production “Did Doris Do It?” starring alongside Eddie O’Brien, Phillis Gordon and the Rader Bros. Manners also starred in Flagg’s “Too Many Wives” and “Maid of Waikiki” during 1919 (Long Beach Press, 7 Aug 1919, page 8). She was advertised as “the girl with an angel voice,” a stunning coloratura soprano. Flagg’s divorce from his first wife remains shrouded in mystery, but their daughter remained in the spotlight.

In 1921 Miss Genevieve Flagg married James Delmore “Dell” Chain (1887-1963). Chain was a performer and one of the principals in the cast of “Sun-List.”  (“The Town Talk,” Alexandria, 19 Oct 1921, page 1). Dell’s career continued to flourish in the 1920s, with frequent mention of his famous father-in-law. The same cannot be said for Flagg and his studios, as his life began to implode.

In 1923, Flagg’s Los Angeles studio was destroyed by fire. Two boys lit a small fire that grew, burning down an entire city block (“Sacramento Bee,” 14 July 1923, page 7). Flagg’s second studio went up in flames the next year, when a grass fire got out of control. Ironically, this second fire was intentionally set by city firemen (“Santa Cruz Evening News,” 4 June 1924 page 1). What’s the possibility of two unrelated and accidental fires destroying your life’s work? Three years after the second studio fire Flagg passed away. He was in the midst of rebuilding his enterprise but ran out of time.

His work for the Rialto Theatre in Phoenix, Arizona, in 1921 deserves mention as it says a lot about Flagg and his business.  For the 1921 project, newspapers reported that Flagg was given carte blanche  with the venue(Arizona Republic, 2 July 1921, page 18). The article additionally noted that Flagg pulled his best, Ted Lange, from a Marcus Loew project at Seventh and Broadway, to work at the Rialto. The article reported, “Flagg took him off the job and sent him out to Arizona to get the Rialto up in shape so that his old-time pals “Rick” and “Harry” could say, “Boys, this is a Flagg House.” The article continued, “Edwin H. Flagg started life as a scenic artist so long ago…But Ed Flagg has not lagged behind all these years. He has kept abreast of the times, and 1921 sees him as the biggest decorator and stage expert in the west. Flagg even goes to Europe to show them how to equip stages. That’s the kind of man the R. and N. [J. E. Richards and H. L. Nace] firm brought in to add his bit to make a real theater…Edwin Flagg takes a lot of pride in what he has done for the success of the new house and the local firm is loud in their praise of him and his firm” (Arizona Republic, 2 July 1921, page 18).

To be continued…

One way to repurpose old Thanksgiving decorations. This makes me chuckle every year.

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

I continue to explore the history of the earliest scenery painted for the Tabor Opera House between 1879 and 1882.  Evelyn E. Livingston  Furman was integral to the preservation of the scenery at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado. She was a good steward, one who safeguarded many stage artifacts throughout the building. Furman’s publication, “The Tabor Opera House, a Captivating History,” pieces together many loose ends regarding the early stage and stories about the Tabors. I have repeatedly returned to her work for the past few years, searching for additional clues. Gretchen Scanlon also explored the history of the Tabor Opera House in “A History of Leadville Theatres.” It is an insightful and entertaining publication about popular entertainment and a variety of performance venues in this rough mining town.

In my own writings about the Tabor Opera House, I try to rely on historic newspaper articles, understanding that there is always a margin of error with the retelling of any story. It is easy to jump to conclusions about history, trying to piece it together in a tidy progression of events. When I catch one of my own mistakes, I often go back to correct the error and update my writing; that is the beauty of a digital format, it becomes a living document. For today’s post, I followed a trail of breadcrumbs to Eugene Field, the son of attorney Roswell Field, best known for representing Dred Scott. ‘Gene Field became part of the Tabor story early on and was recently credited with painting the Royal Gorge drop.  Spoiler alert: He was a writer and not a scene painter.

In regard to the earliest scenery installed at the Tabor Opera House, it is clear that both Furman and Scanlon relied on the same historic newspaper articles for sources. I have now located many of the same sources, as well as a few more. Unfortunately, neither Furman nor Scanlon cite specific sources in their works. This presents a challenge for others to further substantiate their claims. 

In my continuing examination of early Tabor Opera House scenery, here is a recap. The original scenery, stage machinery and drop curtains were delivered by James E. Lamphere, scenic artist, and Mr. Barber, stage carpenter, in 1879. By August 1882, the building and stage were renovated. On August 23, 1882, the “Leadville Daily Herald” reported, “there will be a change for the better in regard to scenery, scene shifting and drop curtains. Those ridiculous hitches in scene shifting that have heretofore occurred on one or two occasions will no longer take place.” If the stage arrangements were bad enough to be changed  within two years, it is unlikely that those responsible for the original arrangements were rehired. In fact , H. C. Sprague is credited as the stage carpenter for new arrangements. I have yet to locate any mention of a scenic artist, however, keep in my that many talented stage carpenters during this period could also paint, and paint well. The theatre industry was not as compartmentalized as it is now.

Furman also writes that the original roll curtain from the Leadville Tabor Opera House was taken to Denver for the premiere of “Silver Dollar.”  In a later chapter Furman describes the original drop curtain’s composition but does not cite any source.  Her description of the first drop curtain by Lamphere is identical to a similar description published in the “Leadville Weekly Herald” on Nov. 15, 1879: “The drop curtain is a masterpiece from the brush of Mr. Lamphere, and represents a glorious mountain scene, at the base of which is a fine old castle, with a stream running at the foot; alongside of the water is a rugged road, which ends in the winding of  canyon” (page 3). Scanlon describes this same scene for the original drop curtain. It is improbable, however, that this curtain survived beyond the 1882 renovation; it was likely repainted or replaced well before the Elks purchased the building in 1901.

Furthermore, Scanlon writes that a second drop curtain that was delivered to the Tabor Opera House a few years after the venue opened; this timing would coincide with the 1882 renovation. Scanlon credits Gene Field with painting the second drop curtain that replaced the original, writing “A few years later, Tabor contracted to have a new drop curtain painted by Gene Field” (page 132).  Scanlon goes onto explains that Field’s drop curtain depicted  Royal Gorge, and it was still being used when the Elks enlarged the stage in 1902. Furman also writes about the Royal Gorge composition, but not as a replacement for the first drop curtain, just as another roll drop with a hefty price tag of $1,000. Furman includes the Royal Gorge drop as part of the original scenery painted by Lamphere. This is where it would have been extremely helpful if either author had cited any source in regard to the $1,000 expense or Gene Field as the scenic artist.

Of the Royal Gorge drop Scanlon continues: “It was taken down, and there was a great deal of debate over what should happen to it. Some thought that it should be hung in the Carnegie Library or donated to the Leadville Pioneers for safekeeping; others thought that the main part should be cut out, framed and hung in the opera house. The curtain stayed in the opera house. In 1932, it was lent to the Denver Theater for the premiere of the movie Silver Dollar, starring Edward G. Robinson, based on Tabor’s life. What happened to the curtain after that remains a mystery.”

Gene Field wasn’t an artist, he was a writer who wrote for various newspapers. In 1883, the “Larimer County Independent” reported, “Without Gene Field and the Tabor Opera House, Denver would be a barren waste” (Fort Collins, Colorado, 24 May 1883, page 2). Decades later, newspapers would reminisce about the relationship between Field and Tabor: “That the reputation of the Tabor Grand spread in ever widening circles during the early years of its history was due, in certain measure to the theater itself, but more, it is believed, to the stories about its personnel and players, written in the Denver Tribune between 1881 and 1883 by Eugene Field, who was earlier associated with the Kansas City Times, then in his twenties Field glorified in lampooning prominent people, particularly the newly rich. Mr. Tabor, his son Maxey and William Bush, first manager of the theaters, were his eternal targets. Copies of the tribune were demanded even in Mexico, London and Canada. So the Tabor Grand acquired far renown” (Springfield Leader and Press, Springfield, Missouri, 5 June 1921, page 8).

I located the source that connects Field with the Tabor Opera House drop curtain, but he was not noted as the scenic artist. On Jan. 1, 1903, the “Herald Democrat” reported, “There is a story about Tabor and this curtain which may or may not be true, but it is worth repeating. Gene Field was originally responsible for it.”  Field was not responsible for the painting of the drop, but the telling of the story about Tabor and the drop. The 1903 article continues to share the story, as originally told by Field:

“It is said that when Tabor got the curtain, the artist had painted a portrait of the late William Shakespeare for a centerpiece. Shakespeare, the artist thought, was a proper person to pose for a picture symbolical of the thespian art to which the building was to be devoted. When Tabor saw the picture he is said to have asked whose picture that was. “Why, that’s Shakespeare,” said the artist. “Who the — is Shakespeare?” roared Tabor. “Take his face out of that if you want to make a portrait gallery of the curtain, put my picture there.”

Five years earlier, “The Saint Paul Globe” shared a similar on January 23, 1898:

“It was when the building had been completed and the artist was painting the drop curtain that Tabor came in. As he watched the progress of the work, he asked the artist: “Whose picture is that which you are painting in the center of the curtain?”

“Shakespeare,” replied the artist.

“Who is Shakspeer?” asked the future senator.

“Why,” said the artist, “he is a great man who has written the greatest plays – the Bard of Avon, you know.”

“Shakspeer?” said Tabor. “Seems to me I’ve heard the name somewhere. But what in thunder has Shakspeer done for Leadville!”

“Nothing that I know of,” said the artist.

“Then paint that picture out and put me in.” And that is the way Tabor’s picture came to be in the drop curtain.”

Here is an earlier version from 1890  that appeared in the “Norfolk Virginian” (12 Nov. 1890, page 8) and the “Pittsburgh Press (9 Nov. 1890, page 12). The heading for the article in the “Norfolk Virginian” was “Not Acquainted with Shakespeare.” The heading for the article in the “Pittsburgh Press” was “Senator Tabor’s Drop Curtain.” The story for each was identical:

“When the building was completed he hired an artist to paint some suitable designs on the drop curtain. The artist did so. While the finishing touches were being put on, the Governor and Senator ambled into the building and inquired:

“Who’s picter’s that?”
Shakespeare’s,” meekly replied the successor of Raphael.

“Who’s Shakespeer?”

“Why, he’s the standard author of tragedy and drama – the Bard of Avon you know.”

“Shakespeer, Shakespeer’ seems to me I’ve heerd the name summer, but what in thunder has he done for Leadville?”

“Nothing that I know of.”

“Then paint the picter out and put mine in.”

And it was done, and Tabor’s picture remains there to this day.”

The story was again repeated at the time of Tabor’s passing in 1899, but Tabor’s portrait was no longer on the drop curtain. His portrait was painted on the proscenium arch; this is what I have proposed in past posts, as Tabor’s portrait would remain visible throughout a performance, whereas a drop curtain scene is raised at beginning of a production.  The following article was originally published in the “New Orleans Times-Democrat,” but quickly spread all across the country and appeared in many other newspapers. Here is the article in the “Sacramento Bee” from May 13, 1899:

“Soon after the late Senator H. A. W. Tabor, of Colorado, made his first million,” said a former resident of the Silver State, “he built an opera house at Leadville. It was a very fine building for the day and place, and with characteristic liberality he determined to spare nothing in its appointments. Among other experts he engaged an extremely competent New York artist named De Moro to do the decorations and gave him absolute carte blanch. This greatly pleased the painters, and he did a remarkably fine piece of work. When the job was completed he sent for Tabor to inspect it, and the latter was delighted with everything until he looked at the proscenium arch, in the center of which was a superb medallion portrait of Shakespeare. “Who is that fellow, anyhow?” asked the new millionaire, frowning ominously. “That is William Shakespeare,” replied De Moro, in surprise. ‘Well, he didn’t have a blamed thing to do with building this theater,’ said Tabor, sternly. ‘Rub him out and put me in.’ The artist was furious and adopted a unique method of getting even. Tabor wore an enormous purple-black moustache, which always had the appearance of being imperfectly dyed, and De Moro proceeded to duplicate the weird armament on the upper lip of the bard of Avon. He then painted in a standing collar and red cravat, labeled the ghastly composite ‘Hon. H. A. W. Tabor,’ and went back to New York, cursing everything in Colorado. The De Moro portrait stood  unchanged for many years and was regarded by frontier art critics as a speaking likeness.

‘Up to middle age Tabor’s life was one of great hardship,’ continued the Westerner, “and when he suddenly became fabulously rich he plunged into luxuries like a starving man wading into a banquet. One of his early freaks was the purchase of several magnificent lace nightgowns, which cost $1000 apiece and which he kept locked up in a safe during the day. Eugene Field was editor of the Denver Tribune at the time, and those lace nightgowns made him simply hysterical. He wrote columns upon columns about them, describing the garments in detail, with numerous diagrams depicting sections fore and aft. The diagrams were hideous affairs, which Field carved out himself with a penknife on the back of old wood type. He used to describe how Tabor would forget the combination of the safe and sit up, shivering and naked, half the night trying to remember the right figures. Although he kept Denver in a roar for weeks, and made Tabor so wild that one day he rushed into his office, snatched the unfortunate nightgowns out of their compartment and tore them to thread. “There, now!” he exclaimed, wiping his forehead and kicking the tattered fragments into a corner. ‘I hope than cussed fool will be satisfied. I’ll be hanged if I ain’t going to get a gunny sack,’ he continued, ‘cut some holes in the end for my head and arms, and then sleep in it for the rest of my life!”

“When Tabor was appointed to the Senate to fill an unexpired term of exactly twenty-nine days, Field broke loose again and had all kinds of fun with the old man. He declared that Tabor opposed the tariff bill on the ground that it encouraged lawlessness in the West. ‘I don’t know this Tariff Bill,’ he reported the Senator as saying in a speech, ‘but we have entirely too many of ‘em out where I live. There’s Wild Bill and Buffalo Bill and Pecos Bill and Billy the Kid – all no good. If you let Tariff Bill have anything to do with the Custom House he’s liable to steal the Atlantic Ocean.’ Many of the honest folk took these flights of fancy seriously, and drove Tabor nearly distracted by long letters of remonstrance, urging him to read up and get posted, so as to not disgrace the State. At the expiration of the Senator’s brief term he circulated an autograph album among his fellow-members and the incident tickled Filed immensely. He gave what purported to be a copy of the ‘sentiment’ inscribed in the volume by the different statesman – such things as ‘When you see this remembers me. Roscoe Conkling.’ And ‘Sure as the moss grows ‘round a stump you are my darling sugar lump – I mean chump – Geo F. Hoar,’ and similar nonsense, all of which maddened his victim. I think Gene Field was the only man Tabor never forgave, for in spit of his gaunt, forbidding exterior, the miner magnate was as tender-hearted as a girl. He was really full of sterling qualities, and in his proper sphere he would have been anything but grotesque. One thing is sure – if every fellow he helped in secret would have joined his funeral procession the other day he would have gone to his grave like an Emperor of old.”

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Rae Waszut-Barrett

Backdrop delivered by Toomey & Volland scenic studio of St. Louis, Missouri. Last month I visited the Richmond Scottish Rite and documented the historic scenery collection, dating from 1900-1920.

Here is a link to my past post:

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1921 Thomas G. Moses, “A good Shrine contract at Hammond came our way and we will be able to put up something good.” Moses was referring to the Orak Temple Shrine in Hammond, Indiana. Members of the Ancient and Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine (A.A.O.N.M.S.) met at Hammond’s Masonic Temple. The massive fraternal edifice, completed in 1909, was expanded and a large stage installed in 1921.

At the beginning of 1921, hundreds of Shrines participated in the installation of newly elected officers of Orak Temple Shrine that January (The Times, Munster, Indiana, 12 Jan 1921, page 1). The new leadership would immediately invest in membership experience that spring and on Jan. 13, 1921, the Masonic Building Association let out contracts for the construction, fixing dates for the various stages of construction (The Times, page 1). The excavation and foundation work was scheduled to be completed by March 1, with the entire building under a roof by May 15, 1921. The three-story structure included an immense auditorium in the northwest section. The design of the stage was 40 feet wide by 27 feet deep with “all the accessories found in big theatres.”

The scenery contract may have been entered into with the Shrine, but there were likely other scenic pieces for Masonic groups that met in the building. Scottish Rite scenery contracts frequently included Blue Lodge, York Rite, DeMolay and Shrine scenery.

By March 19, 1921, cornerstone laying ceremonies were conducted at the Masonic Temple. “The Times” reported, “The entire front of the old temple has been torn away so that the wall of the new structure will be in uniform in its Muenich court frontage. The steel work in the left background encloses the opening of what will be the huge stage of the auditorium”  (22 March 1922, page 1).

On March 22, 1921, “The Times” reported, “The corner stone, a mammoth block of four feet square, will be placed…The old stone has been removed and the steel box and contents, placed in the cavity within a stone years ago. will be placed in the new stone along with another box containing newspapers, documents and other articles of interest.” The building was sold in 1999 and eventually demolished a decade later. The structure didn’t even make ninety years. It is always difficult to read about the efforts of one generation, and the to trace these efforts dismissed by others.

The two time capsules were recovered in 2009 amidst the rubble of the demolished building. The capsules contained a variety of artifacts that included newspapers, yearbooks, architectural plans, photographs, moonshine, whiskey labels, lodge coins, a box of laxatives and horse manure. Attached to the small box of manure was a note explaining that future generations might not understand its significance with the advent of the automobile.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Railroads hired a variety of nineteenth century artists to paint scenes that would entice western travel.

In 1886, James Edgar Lamphere painted a drop curtain for DeRemer’s Opera House in Pueblo, Colorado. The drop was presented to Mr. DeRemer by the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad. In essence, it was an advertising curtain for their scenic line that passed the Curecanti Needle. This is the first mention that I have encountered of a railroad marketing their services on a drop curtain. It is possible that they also presented a drop curtain depicting Royal Gorge to H. A. W. Tabor for his opera house in Leadville, just a few years earlier.

The DeRemer drop curtain gives insight into a new form of marketing for the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad (D&RG). On February 3, 1886, the “Colorado Daily Chieftain” reported, “the most attractive thing to strike the eye upon entering the house is the beautiful drop curtain, presented to Mr. DeRemer by the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad, and we unhesitantly say that the Scenic Line of America never got up a better of more beautiful shipment. The scene from which the drop is painted is on the line of the Rio Grande road in the Black Canon, and is known as Curranti [sic.] Needle, being a  tall, majestic, needle-like spur of rock standing high above all the surrounding mountains. It is a pretty scene, and Mr. Lamphere, the artist who did all the work can be proud of it. The scenic scene is in the center of the curtain. On each side is shown as banner, and a close inspection will show a brief inscription on each banner tells what the scene is. The curtain is about twenty-four feet high by thirty-three feet wide.”

A few years earlier, the Tabor Opera House acquired a drop that featured Royal Gorge, likely during the 1882 stage renovation. It was noted as the venue’s second drop curtain, valued at $1000; a hefty sum for the time. Royal Gorge was located on the Leadville branch of the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad (Western Magazine, Vol. 4, page 176). The first drop curtain for the Tabor Opera House in 1879 was painted by Lamphere and described in the “Leadville Weekly Herald.” The article described, “The drop curtain is a masterpiece from the brush of Mr. Lamphere, and represents a glorious mountain scene, at the base of which is a fine old castle, with a stream running at the foot; alongside of the water is a rugged road, which ends in the winding of  canyon” (page 3). This was very standard and appropriate composition for the time, harkening back to an old world with European castles in the distance.

The second drop curtain delivered to the Tabor Opera House depicting Royal Gorge was an unusual central composition for the time, especially when placed it within the context of other nineteenth-century drop curtain descriptions. It is interesting to note that the drop curtains for both DeRemer Opera House and the Tabor Opera House featured a specific scene along the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad. Both the DeRemer Opera House and the Tabor Opera House had scenery painted by Lamphere, also establishing a connection. When placed within the context of railroad companies hiring artists to produce large-scale artworks that inspire travel, this make sense; the captivating scenes functioned as unique advertisement for a particular railroad line.

In 1870, the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad (D&RG) started as a 3 ft. narrow-gauge line running south from Denver, Colorado. It’s first run in 1871 was between Denver and Fountain Colony, later known as Colorado Springs. By the late 1870s, the D&RG and the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe Railway commenced in a bitter dispute over right of way. In 1874, the D&RG railway extended west, linking Pueblo and Cañon City, and by March 1880, the D&RG paid an exorbitant sum for track that extended through the Arkansas River’s Royal Gorge. This acquisition  is likely what prompted the creation of the Royal Gorge drop for the Tabor Opera House.

The D&RG’s construction of this route provided quick access to Salida by May 20, 1880, and Leadville later that same year. The railway connection between Leadville and Denver, greatly eased Tabor’s travel while he planned his second opera house in Denver; the Tabor Grand opened in 1881. From Salida westward, the D&RG railway continued over the Continental Divide at Marshall pass, and after passing Gunnison entered the Black Canyon. It was at this point along the Gunnison river that travelers passed the Curecanti Needle, a 700-ft. granite spire pictured on the DeRemer Opera House drop curtain in 1886.

The Denver & Rio Grande even adopted the Curecanti Needle as a symbol of their Royal Gorge route, referring to this line as “The Scenic Line of the World.” By the mid-1880s, D&RG had the largest narrow-gauge railroad in North America. The Curecanti Needle remained a popular landmark with Denver & Rio Grande passengers until the 1950s, when service was ended through the Black Canyon.

The D&RG formed a transcontinental bridge line between Denver and Salt Lake City, operating the highest mainline rail in the United States. It was this line that theatre companies used, transporting theatrical productions and artists between the Tabor Grand Opera House and the Salt Lake Theatre. This also ties back to career of Henry C. Tryon, scenic artist for the Tabor Grand Opera House, who left Denver to work in Salt Lake City from 1882 to 1884.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Rae Waszut-Barrett

Backdrop delivered by Toomey & Volland scenic studio of St. Louis, Missouri. Last month I visited the Richmond Scottish Rite and documented the historic scenery collection, dating from 1900-1920. Here is a link to my past post: