In 1921 Thomas G. Moses wrote, “Some good work for Balaban and Katz gave us a variety.” I bet; Balaban & Katz movie palaces were in a league all their own.
Sam Katz, Morris Katz, Barney Balaban, and Abe J. Balaban joined together in 1916, establishing Balaban & Katz. The firm became well known for constructing a chain of ornate heaters for motion picture. In 1921 Chicago papers ran advertisements for “Balaban & Katz Wonder theatres – The World’s Foremost Amusement Palaces.” By the spring of 1921, the firm ran theaters in the north, west and south sides of Chicago. The Central Park Theatre was located at Roosevelt Road (12th St) and Central Park Avenue; the Riviera at Broadway and Lawrence, and the new Tivoli at Cottage Grove and 63rd Street.
Balaban & Katz advertisement for the Tivoli Theatre, Riviera Theatre and the Central Park Theatre in Chicago, from the “Chicago Tribune,” 19 Sept 1921, page 13.
When Moses mentioned work for Balaban & Katz at the beginning of 1921, he was likely referring to the Tivoli. Announcements for the new venues elaborated: “Tivoli Service, you are entitled to it! That’s the Balaban & Katz slogan which greets you from the screen of the wonderful Tivoli Theatre. And it means exactly that. Courtesy, comfort and care are dominating features of the Balaban & Katz theatres – the Central Park, Riviera and Tivoli.” Advertisements elaborated, “Fifty-three energetic ushers, nattily clad and in perfect esprit de corps, assist the thousands of visitors of the Tivoli theatre to commodious seats. Their conduct is precise and gentlemanly. They’re college and high school youths, for the most part, drilled by a military and theatrical expert to meet all emergencies” (Chicago Tribune, 7 March 1921, page 6).
The Tivoli theatre in ChicagoThe Tivoli Theatre stage with settings by Sosman & Landis Studio of ChicagoThe Tivoli Theatre stage with settings by Sosman & Landis Studio of Chicago
The 3,500-seat Tivoli Theatre at 6329 Cottage Grove opened on February 16, 1921. Designed by the architectural form of Rapp & Rapp, the theater was two stories high and fashioned in a French Baroque style, decorated and furnished by the Mandel Brothers with draperies of rose silk plush, and velours. There was even gold cloth with heavy applique work and studded jewels. The colors of magenta, turquoise, green, cream and gold tones were found throughout the lounge, mezzanine and promenades. The lobby’s ceiling mural was even intended to resemble the Sainte-Chapelle at Versailles. Marble and gold leave permeated every nook and cranny of the space, living up to the purported $2,000,000 price tag.
The Tivoli Theatre in ChicagoThe Chicago TheatreThe Chicago TheatreThe Chicago Theatre
That fall Balaban & Katz opened the Chicago Theatre on October 26. Of the $4 million endeavor, newspaper advertisements billed the Chicago Theatre as “Wonder Theatre of the World.”
The Chicago Theatre
Larger than the Tivoli Theatre, the Chicago was a 5,000-seat venue that operated as a combination house. There was a full stage with complete scenic and lighting systems. The presentation department prepared elaborate prologues and other scenic effects for motion picture presentations. Here is a link to some lovely photos and a write up about the Chicago Theatre by Mike Hume at historictheatrephotos.com (https://www.historictheatrephotos.com/Theatre/Chicago-Theatre.aspx).
These opulent stages embraced the use of sumptuous fabrics and dimensional details for not only the building, but also for the stage. In many ways their appearance signaled the definitive shift from painted ornament to dimensional ornament in stage art. Although scenic studios still produced an abundance of painted illusion, change was in the air, as the largest projects began to embrace the skills of the interior decorator much more so than the scenic artist. There is a notable shift from scenic art to scenic craft for many projects by the 1920s. The “variety” that Moses mentioned about the Balaban & Katz projects in 1921 would permeate the industry and become standard.
One of the projects that I am working on right now is establishing artist provenance for each piece of scenery at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado. This means creating a biography for scenic artists and stage mechanics who manufactured scenery and stage machinery for the Tabor Opera House and Tabor Grand Opera House. When possible, I link a specific creator with an extant artifact. This week, the focus of my search was J. C. Alexander, a well-known stage carpenter in Colorado from 1883-1908. The story of his life and career took shape as I read dozens of articles about his projects in relation to the Tabor Grand Opera House and the Colorado Circuit.
I doubt that H. A. W. Tabor understood much about theatre stages when Tabor Opera House was built in 1879. The architects and contractors failed to include experienced theatre professionals in the early planning; always a crucial and costly mistake. Although Tabor hired a very skilled fresco artist (J. E. Lamphere) and a capable carpenter (Mr. Barber), their stage arrangements failed upon repeated use. This did not mean that Lamphere of Barber were unskilled, they simply did not specialize in scenic illusion, stage machinery and stage transformations.
By 1882, the Tabor Opera House auditorium and stage underwent a pretty substantial rebuild. The roof was lifted up for acoustics and the stage appointments completely redone. Of the stage work, 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. An experienced stage man has been secured in the person of Mr. H. C. Sprague, who has had extensive experience in the east” (August 23, 1882). H. C. Sprague became the stage carpenter for the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, and J. C. Alexander became the stage carpenter for the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver. Of the two, Alexander became integral in helping mechanically prepare venues for inclusion in the Colorado Circuit.
At some point between 1879 and 1882, Tabor realized that the key to securing touring shows was the backstage appointments. A specific set of stage accommodations attracted touring shows; you can’t put on a successful production without the necessary equipment. Regardless of the extravagance spent on front of house accommodations, it was the backstage area that mattered and attributed to securing popular productions.
Getting class acts to Denver, let alone to Leadville, was expensive. The only way to increase profits was to have the same production tour several venues in the area, or stop on their way to another location. This meant that the traveling costs were divided among the various theaters, reducing the overall expense for each house. Ultimately, western theatrical circuits saved money by sheer volume of venues. Simply offering multiple stops on a tour, however, was not enough to engage a touring company. The stage accommodations had to technically support each show.
For example, when the Grand Central theatre opened in Leadville only a month after the Tabor Opera House, it became quickly apparent that the Grand Central had a far superior stage. The only way for the Tabor Opera House to overcome this deficiency was to connect with a larger metropolitan venue and become part of a circuit – the Tabor circuit. When Denver’s Tabor Grand Opera House opened in 1881, it became the life blood for Tabor’s much smaller venue in Leadville. Without the connection to the Tabor Grand, I doubt that the Tabor opera house would have weathered any of its Leadville competition. Even with featuring the same touring productions as the Tabor Grand, the Tabor opera house had to improve their scenic appointments, hence, the 1882 renovation. The improvements necessitated the involvement of a stage carpenter and scenic artist intimately familiar with the demands of touring companies. Enter Henry E. Burcky, J. C. Alexander and H. C. Sprague. Keep in mind that “stage carpenter” is interchangeable with stage mechanic and stage manager at this time.
After the 1882 renovation of Leadville’s Tabor Opera House, the Tabor Grand Opera House began to hire out the services of their stage carpenter and scenic artist (Burkey and Alexander). This was an attempt to improve regional stages, thus establishing appropriate stops on a western circuit – the Colorado Circuit. In 1885, Alexander and Burcky transformed DeRemer’s rink into the new DeRemer Opera House. One article published in the “Colorado Weekly Chieftain” on Dec. 29, 1885, interviewed Alexander about a possible stage renovation.
John Charles Alexander
The renovation would allow Pueblo to host the same touring shows featured at the Tabor Grand Opera House. There was incentive for both of Tabor’s theaters, as well as the Pueblo community. Here is the 1885 article in its entirety:
“On Sunday, Mr. J. C. Alexander, the stage manager and master mechanic of the Tabor Grand opera house, Denver arrived in the city for the purpose of taking a look at DeRemer’s rink and giving an unbiased opinion as to what could be done towards converting it into an opera house. Mr. Alexander was astonished and greatly pleased at the building, it was so much superior in every way to what he expected to see. The building is both longer and wider than the Tabor Grand, and all it lacks to make room equal to the Tabor Grand auditorium in every way is height. Desiring to get Mr. Alexander’s unbiased opinion regarding the proposed scheme, a Chieftan reporter tackled him yesterday afternoon. We inquired if he thought the rink could be converted into a first class opera house.
“Certainly, sir,” said Mr. Alexander, “It can be converted into an opera house second only to the Tabor Grand in Colorado. I have studied this hall thoroughly that last few hours, and I can tell you it can be made into a splendid theater – a theater where any company visiting Colorado can play and show all of their scenery. “Here,” said he, “you will see we have a working stage of 40×76 feet between walls, with the same width of proscenium opening as the Denver stage. It can be and will be furnished with five sets of working grooves, same as the Tabor, to fold back the fly galleries and give a clear working space in width of 48 feet. We also have a clear working height to the rigging loft of 26 feet, five sets of border lights and the footlights complete the same as we have at the Tabor. To start in with Mr. DeRemer proposes to put in eleven sets of complete scenery, besides a beautiful drop curtain. The eleven sets of scenery, as the house progresses towards completeness, can be painted on the reverse side, thus giving twenty-two sets of beautiful scenery. Here also we will have ample space for scene room, property room and eight dressing rooms. With these improvements any special bit of scenery painted for the production of a special play at the Tabor Grand, will be sent over the Colorado circuit, the completion of this improvement making it possible to set the Tabor scenes at Colorado Springs, Pueblo and Leadville, but Pueblo to the greater advantage that elsewhere on the circuit, because here you will have the largest and best appointed theater on the circuit, and be possessed of every facility to produce attractions as they should be produced. The people of Pueblo will never have such an opportunity to get a good opera house again. I will tell you why. They are only asked to make a temporary loan of $3,000 towards making all these improvements. Now the fact is the improvements contemplated will cost nearer $6,000 than $3,000, yet I understood Mr. DeRemer to say that if the people put up the $3,000 asked for the improvements will be made as contemplated regardless of the extra cost. He further tells me that he will expend every dollar of surplus earnings of the house in making improvements in the building. The fact is that people ought to advance $6,000 at once instead of $3,000.
“How many people can be seated in this building as now planned.” Asked the reporter.
“About 900,” replied Mr. Alexander, “or nearly 200 more than can be seated on the first floor of the Tabor Opera House. The seats will all be elevated and nicely arranged provided the project can be carried out, and there will not be a bad seat in the house. The height of the stage will be three feet ten inches from the floor and everything will be permanent about the stage, it can be dug out underneath after it is started and the pit and traps put in. In the same way the roof can be raised at any time, and these things I am assured will be done as fast as possible. If this scheme goes through the Tabor Grand has agreed to play all its attractions here permanently. That is why I am here and taking such an active interest in the way the work of improvement is to be done.
“Could a building about 130×52 feet be converted into a first class or even possibly good opera house, Mr. Alexander,” inquired the reporter.
“No, sir,” said Mr. Alexander; “it could not, and for the very obvious reason that such a building would lack one of the great things which a theater mush have – and width, What kind of a stage you put within fifty-two feet? What kind of scenery could you put up? Such a structure would be an abortion, so far as using it for theatrical purposes is concerned. The only way to convert a building fifty feet wide into a theater would be to tear down the structure, rebuild it and add about thirty feet more to its width.
Leaving Mr. Alexander the reporter hunted up Mr. J. R. DeRemer and Mr. George M. Haight, to find out what truth, if any, there was in the statement that the improvements to be made in the rink would cost $6,000.
“Yes,” said Mr. Haight, “Mr. Alexander thinks the improvement will cost much but if the people put up the three thousand dollars asked we will make the improvements at once.
“Yes,” said Mr. DeRemer, “and you can just tell the people that whatever Mr. George M. Haight says about this matter goes. He represents me in this matter fully and I will carry out whatever he agrees to do. It is estimated these improvements will cost $6,000, but we have only asked for $3,000, and as soon as that sum is subscribed we will commence this work with a vim. I will say further that every surplus cent of earnings of this house will be used to improve and beautify the structure until Pueblo has a first class opera house. I don’t think I can say any more, It now remains to be seen whether the people want an opera house. The people, however, are asked for but $3,000, as a temporary loan. The only feasible plan to secure an opera house is to make up this $3,000 fund at once. All other propositions are chimerical and impossible. If we can’t raise the sum asked by DeRemer we can’t raise anything for an opera house, but we believe this sum can be raised, and we hope to announce it has been subscribed before the week is out, Of the sum asked there only remains $1,000 to be raised. Now don’t refuse to put your name down when called upon. We can all afford to help this project along liberally and it is our duty as good citizens, with the prosperity of the town in view, to do so cheerfully and promptly.”
On January 7, 1886, the “Colorado Daily Chieftain” announced. “If the people of Pueblo want a first class opera house, let them wait on Mr. J. R. DeRemer or Mr. George M. Haight to-day and subscribe a loan of $525 towards the DeRemer opera house project, and our word for it, work will be commenced tomorrow. It this is not done very few of the Tabor Grand attractions will visit Pueblo in the future.” That almost sounded like a threat, but the money was soon raised and on February 3, 1886, DeRemer’s Opera House opened to the public. The “Colorado Daily Chieftain” reported, “During the past few weeks many people, of course, have visited what was formerly known as the finest skating rink in the west and watched the transformation in progress, but for all that there were few people present at the opening last night who were not surprised and astonished at the beautiful appearance of the interior of the new theaters…the stage is the largest in the state beside the Tabor Grand at Denver. It is furnished with all the scenery paraphernalia required in all first class opera houses. This work has all been done under the personal supervision of Mr. Maynard, assistant stage manager at the Tabor Grand…Pueblo is now accredited with the best equipped and largest opera house outside of Denver and in the state…Pueblo ought to be proud of DeRemer’s opera house; it is a first class place of amusement now, and in time we feel certain it will be excelled by few in style and finish.”
There were many more changes to go, including the raising of the roof to make it three stories high, but the house was open. Once the roof was raised, the seating would be divided into a parquet, dress circle, balcony and gallery.
Tomorrow, I will continue to explore the life and career of John C. Alexander.
Scenic studios manufactured themed décor for a variety of charity balls and other fundraising events. These projects catered to a specific clientele, one that was often a repeat customer.
In 1921 Thomas G. Moses wrote, “The big pageant for the Municipal Pier gave us a good show for the Salvation Army, and one for the dance hall.” The next year, Moses mentioned Salvation Army work again, writing, “Had some Municipal Pier work, especially the Salvation Army work.”
Salvation Army button, 1921
As I combed through dozens of articles, searching for information about the Salvation Army and Municipal Pier events that year, one caught my eye. As we have entered a season of giving, it is time to remember those who sacrifice for good of others.
On May 29, 1921, the “Chicago tribune” published an article entitled, “Assaults on Our Finances” (page 72).
“Looking back, I can hardly remember a moment in the last few years when we have not been in the surge of some such drive. Sometimes the organizers of these assaults on the glorious inviolability of our private and personal finances try to disguise them under such terms as “presentation.” But the fact and act remain the same.
It is the selfish, untiring, devoted energy of the few in the interests of the many, in the interests of community itself, which accompanies the financing of such enterprises as the Red Cross, the Y.W.C.A., the Y.M.C.A., the Boy Scouts, the Salvation Army, and the various other great undertakings which are the hope of our civilization. These few take the exhausting, ungrateful, nerve racking task of soliciting money from the great and heedless majority of a self-absorbed world.
Instead of being grateful to them for taking the hardest part of the job off our hands, the tendency of the average citizen is to complain when so approached. Yet eliminate from our social system these various enterprises and what would be the residue? A rampant materialism which would suck the soul out of us all and breed anarchy and destruction.
So, the next time you are approached by one of these champions of reform and philanthropy, say, “Thank you for giving me the opportunity.”
In 1921 Thomas G. Moses wrote, “Most of my time has been taken up with model making and looking after the work. Not much chance to paint.” Moses was working on an annual contract at Sosman & Landis Scene Painting Studio in Chicago. He resigned as president of the company in 1918, leaving to work for both New York Studios and Chicago studios before returning to the firm. After all, he had a long history with the company, and by 1921 had worked for the studio forty-one years.
After a director’s meeting in 1921, Moses wrote, “It was settled that I remain at $8,000.00 a year. The next day I was on the road to Little Rock, Arkansas, where I spent a week and closed the contract for $9,548.00, then on to Kansas City where I got a small order for a window display, and Omaha where I closed for $2,400.00, another Scottish Rite job, all on my 65th birthday week.”
At sixty-five years old Moses was constantly on the road again, but this time with growing health concerns. He had physically pushed himself to the limit for a long time, and life was starting to catch up with him. The 1920s would be a difficult decade for Moses, and American Society as a whole. In some ways, the roaring twenties was akin to fire, raging out of control; clearing a path, but destroying much along the way. As society tried to progress forward, there were those who dug their heals in the sand trying, desperately to maintain a status quo. Moses continued to plod along, but the world and theatre industry were rapidly changing around him. More and more he was asked to solely secure contracts, design productions, and manage a disgruntled paint force. Since 1904, Moses had been in charge of all design, construction, painting and installation at Sosman & Landis studio. Regardless of title or position, there was less and less time to do what he loved – paint. Like many, Moses continued to search for that ideal balance of work and pleasure.
Many colleagues tried to lure him west, suggesting that he relocate to California. Late in 1921, Moses wrote, “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.”
It’s understandable. All of his previous departures from the company had been unsuccessful; yet remaining at Sosman & Landis posed a whole host of problems. In 1920, six members of the Sosman & Landis paint staff left to form Service Studios, now a competitor. This was a significant percentage of the work force, causing a difficult situation for all.
Moses continued to trudge along, but all by himself. The situation makes me think of the lyrics from the 1921 song, “All By Myself” by Irving Berlin:
All by myself in the morning
All by myself in the night
I sit alone in a cozy Morris chair
So unhappy there
Playing solitaire
All by myself I get lonely
Watching the clock on the shelf
I’d love to rest my wear head on somebody’s shoulder
Berlin’s song was introduced in “The Music Box Revue of 1922.” It certainly stood the test of time, having struck a chord with many. Here’s Bobby Darin’s version from 1962: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5V2xgsC59U
On Dec. 24, 1879, an article in the “Chicago Tribune” described the mining town of Leadville, Colorado, and the newly constructed Tabor Opera House. The opera house was described in detail under the heading, “The Legitimate Theatre” and mentioned a portrait of H. A. W. Tabor painted over the drop curtain. Here is a section from the article:
“It had often been asserted that only low variety-shows could flourish, and that a first-class theatre could not be supported. Lieut.-Gov. Tabor, W. H. Bush and others of our leading citizens, having a better faith, accepted the challenge, erected a substantial and ornate building, supplied it with all the required fixtures and appliances, seated it with the latest improved opera chairs from the shops of your A. H. Andrews & Co., and finally engaged a first-class company; marshaled by Colorado’s favorite actor, J. S. Langrishe, and, with the genial Lou C. Leonard as Treasurer, they opened it several weeks ago. Full houses have ever since greeted the players and indorsed the enterprise. The auditorium, without having the florid gildings of many Easter cities, is neat, graceful and complete,- the only defacement being a picture of Gov. Tabor over the drop curtain, which is rather a caricature than a portrait” (page 9).
The wording of the last sentence is important: “a picture of Gov. Tabor over the drop curtain.” The article does not state his portrait was painted on the drop curtain, but over the drop curtain. This suggests that the portrait was painted on a grand border, sounding board, or mural above the proscenium arch; something permanently positioned above the drop curtain. This also mean that the portrait was visible throughout a performance and at all times, which in many ways closely adheres to the public recognition sought out by Tabor at the time.
A Portrait of H. A. W. Tabor in 1883. From the Denver Public Library Digital Collection. Here is the link: https://digital.denverlibrary.org/digital/collection/p15330coll22/id/17428
Years later, tales would tell that Tabor insisted his portrait replace that of Shakespeare before the Tabor Opera House opened to the public, making the scenic artist repaint the central medallion.
Including a portrait of Shakespeare in a nineteenth-century American opera house or theater legitimized the venue; a practice that was still in place until the early twentieth century. Shakespeare was even placed on the sounding board above the proscenium arch at the Matthews Opera House in Spearfish, South Dakota, 1906.
When the Tabor Opera House opened in 1879, there were other examples of Shakespeare portraits placed over a drop curtains across the country. One example includes fresco work about the proscenium at the Academy of Music in Akron, Ohio; it included a portrait of Shakespeare.
For additional context, a grand border curtain frequently included a central medallion featuring something significant. At the Salt Lake Theatre, the border curtain’s central medallion included a beehive. On border curtains for other theaters, Shakespeare’s portrait was painted in the center medallion, visually reinforcing the legitimacy of the venue in producing classical works. Keep in mind that the Tabor Opera House was constructed in 1879 and noted as Leadville’s only legitimate theater that fall. A portrait of Shakespeare on the grand border of the opera house would have been extremely appropriate for the new venue.
There is one other factor to consider when contemplating the placement of Tabor’s portrait on a scenic piece. The border curtain was often permanently fixed, positioned in the upper third of the proscenium opening. It provided the much-needed masking for overhead machinery and border lights. Although the drop curtain greeted the audience as they took their seats, it was raised when a performance commenced; ideally out of sight. Even after the Tabor Opera House was renovated in 1902, the grand border still included a central medallion, just without a portrait. However, between 1879 and 1901 the grand border was repainted before being replaced in 1902 after the stage was renovated.
Newspapers would mention the opening of Tabor’s theatrical investment in Leadville, with the common tag line “finest theatre in the west.” On May 5, 1880, the “Greenville Democrat” reported, “The Tabor Opera House was built by Gov. Tabor, who, a few years ago, worked by day with pick and shovel, right where Leadville now stands; but as Leadvillians say, “he struck it,” and to-day the Governor is worth $7,000,000. The Governor is not extraordinarily smart, and is no in office on that account, but his pocket-book was elected” (page 2). Newspaper would later observe, “Without time of any preparation to grow accustomed to the possession of unlimited wealth (contrasted with his former condition), he has made the mistake of supposing that his money could buy public opinion and recognition favorable to any freak he may see fit to indulge in” (Democrat and Chronicle, Rochester, New York, 9 June 1883, page 4).
Tabor increasingly fell outside of societal norms after he left his first wife for local actress Baby Doe. He was able to secure many things with his new wealth, but could not buy the respect of others, especially those who envied his wealth and position. This caused a toxic situation for Tabor, casting a poor light on both Tabor and his projects. He became the recipient of jabs across the country. Almost two decades after the completion of the Tabor Opera House, a story appeared in newspapers across the country about Tabor’s portrait in the original opera house. I believe that this is when the story changed, placing Tabor’s portrait on the drop curtain.
On January 23, 1898, “The Saint Paul Globe” shared the following tale:
“Tabor’s Opera house has long passed out of his hands, and also the Tabor block. His opera house in Leadville is no longer his, and I am not sure his picture is still left on the drop curtain. It was there at a time for any rate, and the way in which it was put there forms the subject of the story I heard yesterday. 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.
Also, for the untrained eye, an audience member might not be able to discern between the painted grand border and the drop curtain. The two would complement each other beautifully, and may be considered one complete composition, not two scenic pieces.
Finally, the original drop curtain was described in 1879 when the Tabor Opera House opened, and there was no mention of Tabor’s portrait in the middle of the composition.
On November 15, 1879, the “Leadville Weekly Herald” 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).
Here is a backdrop designed and painted by Toomey & Volland scenic studio of St. Louis, Missouri, ca. 1920. Last month I visited the Richmond Scottish Rite and documented the historic scenery collection, dating from 1900-1920.
Landscape drop by Toomey & Volland scenic studio of St. Louis, MissouriLandscape drop by Toomey & Volland on the stage of the Richmond Scottish Rite Theatre
Here is a link to my past post about my visit to the Richmond Scottish Rite this fall:
Scenery by Toomey & Volland for the Richmond Scottish RitePainted detail. Landscape drop by Toomey & VollandPainted detail. Landscape drop by Toomey & VollandPainted detail. Landscape drop by Toomey & VollandPainted detail. Landscape drop by Toomey & VollandPainted detail. Landscape drop by Toomey & VollandPainted detail. Landscape drop by Toomey & VollandPainted detail. Landscape drop by Toomey & VollandPainted detail. Landscape drop by Toomey & VollandPainted detail. Landscape drop by Toomey & VollandPainted detail. Landscape drop by Toomey & Volland
Richard Finkelstein also made a lovely video of this scene with changing light:
In 1921 Thomas G. Moses wrote, “The zoning question in Oak Park came up at home and we are going to have a restricted district on Euclid Avenue between South Boulevard and Madison Street.” Oak park residents were trying to save its residential districts from large apartment complexes that year. Local contractors were putting pressure to build a fifty-two-unit apartment complex and took their case to court
Newspaper headlines that spring reported, “Oak Park’s War on Huge Flats Reached Courts” as builders sought legal aid to get their permit (Chicago Tribune, May 8, 1921, page 137). Mills & Sons, Chicago builders, tried to pressure Charles E. White Jr., the Commissioner of Public Works, approve their building at the northeast corner of Euclid Avenue and Pleasant Street. The area was strictly residential district. Mills & Sons were also proposing another massive structure on the southwest corner of Randolph and Oak Park Avenue.
Moses lived at 233 S. Euclid Avenue, halfway between Randolph Avenue and Pleasant Street.
233 S. Euclid Ave., Oak Park, Illinois
Neighbors rallied to prevent the construction of the large complex in their quiet neighborhood By April 17, 1921, the “Chicago Tribune” reported, “Oak Parkers Win Battle in War on Big Flat Buildings” (page 137). Village ordinances were implemented to prevent the construction of massive complexes in primarily residential areas.
On May 19, 1921, a special meeting of the zoning committee further banned future apartment buildings on Euclid Avenue between South boulevard and Randolph street in Oak Park. Specifically, the village ordinance prohibited the construction of any building beyond a residential home in the two-block stretch (Forest Park Review, 21 May 1921, page 6).
Chicago was expanding, however, and land was often a good investment. Later that year, Moses wrote, “The Madam and I went to Elmhurst August 14th and bought a 100 foot lot for $1,600.00. We might build on it sometime.”). Elmhurst was another western suburb of Chicago, located due north of Oak Park.
The next year Moses looked at the prospects of building on their lot. In 1922, he wrote, “building material has been so high that no one has ventured to build. Only six houses have been built. Our lot is very high and a fine location.”
White City Amusement Park, ChicagoWhite City Amusement Park, Chicago
In 1921 Thomas Gibbs Moses wrote: “White City work starts early in May and we had plenty of it.” Chicago’s White City Amusement Park was located at 63rd Street and South Parkway. In many ways it was Chicago’s answer to New York’s Coney Island. Named after the white lights that lined many of its buildings, there were other White Cities built across the country during the first two decades of the twentieth century.
White City Amusement Park at night.
Each amusement park offered ample opportunities for scenic artists and studios. Imitations of popular attractions, were repeated over, and over again, mainstays at each venue. For example, Luna Park’s “A Trip to the Moon” became White City’s “A Trip to Mars.” Most attractions and rides relied heavily upon scenic illusion and scene painting. Every year, Sosman & Landis completed projects for White City attractions across the country. Like grand circus spectacles, it was work that the studio depended upon.
Note the scenic art on the exterior for the Maid of the Mist attraction
Popular features at Chicago’s White City included “A Trip to Mars,” “Fire and Flames (the Chicago Fire),” “The Johnstown Flood,” “the Canals of Venice,” “Temple of Palmistry,” “Catacombs,” “The Third Degree,” “Infant Incubators,” “Midget City,” “Jewell’s Manikins,” and a whole host of other attractions and activities.
Devil’s Gorge attraction at White CityWar of the Worlds attractionFire and Flames attraction at White CityInfant Incubators at White CityMidget City attraction at White City
There was also a vaudeville theater on the grounds, stocked with scenery for vaudeville acts and concerts. Since the park’s opening in 1905, Sosman & Landis produced scenic elements for dozens of projects at the venue, most under the direction of Moses. During the park’s second season in 1906, an open-air amphitheater was erected with a seating capacity of 12,000. That year Soman & Landis delivered scenery for the outdoor spectacle, “The Last Days of Pompeii.” In 1909 Moses again recorded delivering scenery for another massive White City spectacle, “The Fall of Messiah.” From simple signs to outdoor displays, painted elements were in constant demand at White City.
Scenic studios accepted all kinds of projects to keep the shop doors open. They relied heavily upon a diverse clientele and a range of projects. In short, this diversification meant they could weather many storms, and survive economic downturns. War, pandemics, and other disasters may postpone theatre projects, but it did not necessary leave scenic artists without work. Legitimate theater was just one of many clients for a scenic artist. Amusement park attractions, charity balls, and other non-theatrical projects also required painted panoramas, platforms, props and scenic elements. Scenic studios were uniquely positioned to deliver themed environments for a variety of uses. In some ways, scenic studios followed the itinerant artist approach; accept any painting work that you can gets your hands on. Whether carriage painting, sign painting, ornamental painting, house painting, or drop curtains, all painting was good work.
In regard to White City projects in 1921, it is difficult to determine the exact work that Moses mentions in his memoirs. That year, there were many events held at the amusement park, including a series of professional ball games. However, White City advertisements during the spring of 1921 included a big entertainment at the Terrace Garden. On May 25, 1921, the “Chicago Tribune” published a notice in the Amusements section for “The Garden Follies.” This “Edition De Luxe” was called the “Spring Frolics, a riot of color and flash, beauty, fashion, song and dance” (Chicago Tribune, 25 May 1921, page 19). Advertised as a “a big outdoor feature” it was free to the public. There were both afternoon and evening performances on Saturday, Sunday and Decoration Day. Even Frederick Do Bell was part of the event with advertisements stating, “He’ll Make You Gasp!” Do Bell was a high wire artist, marketed as the “electronic wizard of the high wire.”
Variety acts in an outdoor setting suggest that vaudeville was adapting to the times too, taking their acts to a new level.
The Tabor Opera House was purchased by the Leadville Elks in 1901 and renovated in 1902. Renamed the Elks Opera House, new scenery was purchased for the enlarged stage. Old shutters, wings, borders and roll drops were stored in the attic.
While examining the scenery in the attic this fall, I documented three textile mill stamps. In past posts, I explored the history of Stark Mills (https://drypigment.net2020/11/07/travels-of-a-scenic-artist-and-scholar-stark-mills-and-drillings-for-scenery-at-the-tabor-opera-house/) and the history of Boott Mills (https://drypigment.net2020/11/04/travels-of-a-scenic-artist-and-scholar-boott-mills-standard-sheeting-for-stage-scenery-at-the-tabor-opera-house-in-leadville-colorado/). The third textile mill with fabric that made its way to the Tabor Opera House attic is the New Vaucluse Mills. Fabric manufactured at the New Vaucluse Mill in South Carolina was wrapped around a drop roller.
New Vaucluse Mill Stamp on a drop roller at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado.New Vaucluse Mill fabric on a drop roller at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado.New Vaucluse Mill fabric on a drop roller at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado.New Vaucluse Mill fabric on a drop roller at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado.
This small piece of cotton fabric connectsthe history of a Colorado opera house with that of the southern textile industry.
In Dec. 1833, the General Assembly of South Carolina granted Shultz Breithaupt and his associates a charter for the Vaucluse Manufacturing Company. This was only the second charter of incorporation granted to a textile factory in South Carolina. By 1834 operations commenced, and by 1836, the new mill was producing from $250 to $300 worth of goods daily. That is today’s equivalent of $7,000-$8400 worth of goods daily, or 2.5-3 million annually.
For me, it is difficult to explore the history of nineteenth-century textile mills without contemplating the poor working conditions and reliance upon child labor. Nineteenth-century textile mills are one example of an American industry that did not always prioritize the safety of their workers over profits. Without local, regional and national oversight, many factories considered their employees dispensable, and treated them as such. If ever there was a reason to support American labor unions, we just need to look at history of mill workers; so many were lives were sacrificed for the profits of a few.
The drop roller with the New Vaucluse Mill stamp at the Tabor Opera House likely dates from 1879 to 1882, indicating that this may be some of the earliest scenery delivered to the Tabor Opera House. This lone roller connects a small western opera house to the South Carolina textile industry. Vaucluse was located near the small towns of Graniteville and Aitken in South Carolina. Now, there are many histories written about the Graniteville Manufacturing Co. and Vaucluse Mills as well as the rise of capitalism in the south. Some historians describe the works of visionaries; rags to riches tales of white men developing manufacturing industries. Others explain that their initial success was a direct result of slave labor; they were only paying for materials in the manufacturing process. This initial jumpstart gave them an immediate advantage over their northern counterparts.
As I read the history, I was reminded of one line from the musical “Hamilton.” It is from an I am exchange between Hamilton and Jefferson in Cabinet Battle #1 . Hamilton says:
All stories that revolve around the Vaucluse Mills include William Gregg (1800-1867), founder of the Graniteville Manufacturing Company and investor in Vaucluse Mills in the Edgefield District. Vaucluse was a mill town, one of many in the area. The first large-scale cotton mill was constructed in nearby Graniteville by Gregg in 1845, immediately after his return from touring the northern textile mills the year before. Many consider Gregg to be the father of the textile industry in the South. After he returned for his 1844 trip, Gregg wrote a series of articles about his visit, calling upon southern investors in to support southern industrialization. In short, Gregg believed that southern mills could effectively compete with their northern counterparts, citing labor was cheaper in the south. Well, in some cases it was slave labor, so free. The Graniteville Manufacturing Co. was organized in 1855, situated on Horse Creek in the town of Graniteville (Keowee Courier, Pickens, SC, 26 June 1879, page 2). In 1869, a larger mill was proposed on the Vaucluse site. An article about the Vaucluse Manufacturing company asked, “It becomes the citizens of the State, therefore, to take hold upon this enterprise. Into what can our planters better put their surplus funds, the safe investment of which is to so many of them so great a puzzle? In what way can any citizen do more for the general interest of the State?” (The Charleston Daily News, 26 March 1869, page 1). Graniteville mills and Vaucluse mill later became part of the Graniteville Manufacturing Co. Graniteville was the home office and central location to a collection of textile plants in South Carolina and Georgia.
The new Vaucluse mills complex continued to grow and integrate new technology for an ever-increasing output of products. Even after a Vaucluse Mill waterpower burned in 1874, it was soon replaced with a new mill of granite and brick. By 1877, Vaucluse Mill completed the completed the construction of a 342-foor long dam (Keowee Courier, 26 June 1879, page 2). In 1880, Vaucluse Mill even generated 197,000 yards of cloth over a two-week period (Austin American-Statesman, 3 Oct 1880, page 2). By 1884, Vaucluse mill processed 70,738 pounds of cotton that produced 1,423,926 pounds of cloth, or 5,264,500 yards, consuming 1,675,211 pounds of cloth, or about 3,723 bales (Montgomery Adviser, 29 April 1884, page 2).
Buildings from the Vaucluse mills are now part of the Vaucluse historic district, but little is left of textile legacy in terms of products. No handy dishtowels in a museum gift shop as at Boott Mills in Lowell, Massachusetts.
The Vaucluse Historic District was listed in the National Register of Historic Places on May 7, 1996, and includes an 1832 granite wheel house and foundation, the 1877 mill complex (main mill, tower, connecting building, and picker house), 83 former company dwellings the 1952 northside expansion, and the 1955 warehouse. The New Vaucluse mill complex from 1877 was designed by architect Amos D. Lockwood. His design was one of the earliest examples of a New England prototype mill to be built in South Carolina. Lockwood’s later firm, Lockwood, Greene & Co. later designed approximately fifty of South Carolina’s textile manufacturing facilities.
Much of the New Vaucluse Mill history is included in “Planting a Capitalist South: Masters, Merchants, and Manufacturers in the Southern Interior, 1790–1860” by Tom Downey (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2005).
