Color – Page 2 – Drypigment.net

Travels of a Scenic Artists and Scholar: Russell Smith and Logwood Ink

According to Virginia Lewis in her book “Russell Smith, Romantic Realist, “ in 1872, the artist Russell Smith painted a replica of an 1856 entr’acte drop curtain. The drop curtain was originally installed at the Academy of Music in Baltimore, Maryland. The painting for the curtain was described by “The Philadelphia Inquirer” on Dec. 16, 1894. The article noted that although the scene was titled “Como,” the actual scene was from sketches that Smith made at the head of Lake Lugano, in Northern Italy.” The article described, “A conventional design with huge frame, the center of the lower border included a Greek bust. The scene depicted a brilliant summertime view with Italian skies above the glitter and sheen of greenish blue waters.” Lewis notes that the curtain was painted on British imported linen and the drawings were inked in with logwood, commenting it resulted in “soft atmospheric effects which could not be gotten otherwise.” The article also noted that “the colors were made by him personally, as was his custom.”

A recipe for logwood ink appeared in the 1912 publication of “The Standard Reference Work for the Home, School and Library: “Logwood ink is made easily. Logwood may be boiled in soft water, or else extract of logwood may be used. When ink of a proper consistency has been obtained, add one part in ten of ammonia or alum dissolved in boiling water. This gives a violet ink.”

Logwood is a small redwood tree indigenous to Central America, Mexico and the West Indies. Introduced in Europe during the 16^th century, it is still used today in a variety of industries. The dye is contained in the heartwood of the tree, cut into small blocks and then chips for use. Logwood was inexpensive at the time when Russell Smith was using it and provided a wide color range, spanning from violet and blue to deep brown and black. Logwood was not only used for inks, but also watercolor paints.

I immediately thought back to the ink lines still visible on Smith’s 1858 drop curtain. Although water damage washes away an artist’s painting, it often reveals the original drawing beneath, such is the case with the drop curtain at Thalian Hall.

Drawing revealed after water damage. Inked lines on the 1858 Russell Smith drop curtain at Thalian Hall in Wilmington, NC.

Drawing revealed after water damamge. Inked lines on the 1858 Russell Smith drop curtain at Thalian Hall in Wilmington, NC.

A variety of logwood inks appeared in the 19^th century after the design of the steel pen necessitated new ink; iron-gall inks corroded the steel nibs. Chrome-logwood inks were noncorrosive and flowed freely. Cr logwood inks were among the most popular in use, reaching the market in 1848. Unfortunately, chromium caused the ink to gelatinize in the bottle and other alternatives were repeatedly sought out.

There were also alum-logwood inks and copper-logwood inks. Logwood inks were cheap, but not a perfect solution to replace the traditional and expensive black inks. Some of the early violet inks also came from logwood, with the best versions appearing as an intense blue black. Once dry, logwood inks could be wetted without smearing or spreading; a perfect application in inking scenic art compositions that would be painted over. Van Gogh also used chrome-logwood ink for many of his paintings.

It is very possible that the Smith’s inked lines, now visible in the Thalian Hall drop curtain, were made with logwood ink.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 409 – “Art on the Stage” 1881, Secrets of the Scene Painter

Part 409: “Art on the Stage” 1881, Secrets of the Scene Painter

“The Building News and Engineering Journal” published an article on the art of scene painting 1881. Here is the second of three parts.

“Secrets of the Scene-Painter

The next step is the laying in of the groundwork. The sky is, of course, the first point. This is done with whitewash brushes, the painter being absolutely free from all restraint in his method of putting on the colour. The principal point is to get it on quickly. And here the great advantages of painting in distemper become thoroughly plain. These advantages are two in number: the first is, that the colour dries very quickly, thus affording the artist a high rate of speed in working; secondly, all the colours retain, when dry, precisely the same tint as they had before being mixed. The addition of the sizing makes each colour several shades darker than it is when simply in the powdered state. The knowledge of this fact and thorough understanding of the effect the tints will produce after drying is one of the great secrets of the art. Oil-painters of high standing have been known to try the distemper method with utterly disastrous results. Colours mixed with oil always darken several shades and remain dark. Colours mixed with sizing always dry out to their original shade.

Image by Marc D. Hill. He has some amazing pictures. Here is the link: https://hiveminer.com/Tags/old,powder

Different painters have different methods, and there is as much variety in the school of scene-painting as in other branches of art. The German, French, and American artists use opaque washes, or, as it is usually expressed, work in “body colour.” The English school, in which the greatest advances have been made, use thin glazes. This in scene painting is the quickest and most effective. Morgan, Marston, Fox, and Voegtlin are among the leading representatives of this school in America, and their method is gradually spreading among the artists of that country. Its rapidity may be judged from the fact that one of these artist’s lately painted a scene measuring twenty by thirty feet in less than four hours.

One of the greatest differences in scene-painting from ordinary water-colour painting is that, while the colours of the latter are transparent, those of the former are opaque. For instance, the water-colour painter can lay in a wash of yellow ochre, and, by covering it when dry, with a light coat of madder lake, can transform it to a soft orange. In distemper, however, the coat of madder lake would not allow the yellow to show but would completely hide it, and the tint presented would be pure pink. From this fact results a total difference in the painting of foliage. The water-colour painter lays in his light tints first and puts in his shadows afterwards. The scene-painter may do this or not as he pleases. He may put his light tints over his dark ones and they will not lose any of their brilliancy. The advantage of this in regard to speed may be easily seen. If the water-colour painter wishes to put a high light in the middle of a shadow, he must first erase with a sharp knife a portion of his dark tint, or else put on a heavy spot of Chinese white. Over the spot thus erased or whitened he puts the required tint. The distemper painter is relieved of this roundabout process, for he simply dots in his light colour wherever he needs it over the darker shade, and it shows with perfect brilliancy. Again, in painting skies the scene-painter works by a method of his own, not unlike that adopted by oil-painters. The water-colour painter must leave all the broad light of his sky when putting in the main colour, and is obliged to work with his tints wet. The scene-painter may lay in the entire sky with blue, and paint his light yellowish clouds over it afterward. If the ordinary water-colour painter were to do this, his clouds would be green. Some scene-painters, however, work their entire skies wet. The effect of a sky painted thus is always very fine, but only an artist thoroughly conversant with the values of his several pigments can do this. For the colours, it will be remembered, present a very different appearance when wet from that which they have when dry.

Scene-painting has become so important an art that one large firm in New York makes a great specialty of imported materials. There is a long list of colours and other things used exclusively in scenic art, and improvements are being constantly made. Formerly scene-painters were obliged to grind their own colours, but these are now prepared in “pulp” – that is, ground in water. Among the colours used almost exclusively by scenic artists are English white, Paris white, zinc white, silver white, drop black, Frankfort black, Turkey umbers, Italian siennas, Cologne earth, Dutch pink, Schweinfurter green, Neuwieder green, ultramarine green, Bremen blue, azure blue, Persian scarlet, Turkey red, Tuscan red, Solferino, Magenta, Munich lake, Florentine lake, Vienna lake, and blue lake. Some of these colours are also used by fresco painters.

Those which are never used except by scenic artists are celestial blue, golden ochres, green lakes, Milori greens, French green and yellow lakes. The colours specially imported for scene-painters are carnation, royal purples, green lakes, and the English chromes. Indigo is used in very large quantities by scenic artists, but it is used very moderately by water-colour artists. It adds considerably to the expense of getting up scenery.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 393 – The Fenton Families

Part 393: The Fenton Families

In 1889 W. J. Lawrence listed some prominent English scene painting families – the Greenwoods, Grieves, Stanfields, Callcotts, Dansons, Fentons, Gordons, and Telbins. This installment looks at the Fentons (The Theatre Magazine, July 13, 1889).

There were two sets of theatrical families with the last name of Fenton during the 19^th century; both families included performers, but one was distinguished for their scenic art contributions. It is the descendants of James Gill Fenton that W. J. Lawrence was referring to when discussing English scene painting family. James Gill Fenton was listed as a prompter and stage manager. He had four children Caroline (b. 1819), Frederick (b. 1820), Charles (b. 1822), and Charlotte (b. 1825). It would be the two boys who would continue as scenic artists and later be listed as well-known scene painters.

James Gill Fenton (1794-1877) was a scenic artist and stage director to Edmund Kean. He was also noted as prompter and stage manager. He passed away in 1877 at the age of 83.

Charles Gill Fenton (1822-1877) began his acting career during the 1830s playing small parts in pantomimes. From 1844-1859 he played principal roles and began performing in Shakespearean productions at Sadler’s Wells Theatre. Between 1863 and 1873, Charles was listed as an actor and scenic artist at the Strand Theatre. In 1866, Frederick Gill Fenton(1820-1898) was an actor and a scene painter. Frederick was working at the Victoria Theatre while his brother Charles Fenton was working at the Strand.

Charles then transitioned to working in Vaudeville from 1873 to 1874. Charles married Carloline Parkes (b. 1838), a dancer and an actress at Her Majesty’s, Sadler’s Wells, Marlebone, Surrey, and many other theatres, as well as, music halls for almost thirty years. She worked in the theatre from 1849-1973. Charles died the same year as his father, 1877, at the age of 56.

A few years later, an article titled “Art On The Stage” was published from the Building News and Engineering Journal, July 29th, 1881

“Scene Painting is an art by itself. There is no other branch of painting just like it, either in the variety of subjects embraced or in the methods employed. The thorough scenic artist must be equally at home in landscape or marine work, architectural or fresco. He is not permitted to cultivate any particular branch of his art, nor any favourite style. He must be able to produce, at any time, the wild mountainous passes of Switzerland or the flat meadows of Holland; the green lanes of homelike England, or the winding valleys of romantic Spain. In his architectural work he cannot devote himself to the Gothic or the Romanesque, but must be equally master of the Moorish, the Greek, and the Oriental. He may to-day be called upon to paint the Temple of Minerva, and to-morrow the Mosque of Omar; this week the Windsor Hotel, and next week the Palace of Versailles. His art knows no boundaries, and his scope is confined by no limits. The universe must be at his command, and things unseen must live in his imagination. The methods by which he works and many of the materials he employs are altogether different from those employed by the ordinary oil or water-colour painter. They approach more nearly to those of the latter, yet even here certain qualities of the colours used by the scene-painter constitute a sharp dividing line.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 366 – “How Theatrical Scenery is Made,” 1898 (translucent drops, part 3)

Part 366: “How Theatrical Scenery is Made,” 1898 (translucent drops, part 3)

An article depicting Joseph A. Physioc’s studio and his design process was published in “The World” (New York, 6 March 1898, page 43). It provides great insight into some nineteenth-century scenic art techniques. Here is the third of four installments describing Physioc’s studio and his artistic process:

Illustration of a Drop Curtain at Harris’ Hudson Theatre, painted by Joseph A. Physioc and published in the New York Times (30 August 1908, page 50).

“The drop in the third act of “The Bonnie Brier Bush” must be transparent, so it is made of the finest unbleached muslin. It is stretched on a frame and then given a coat of starch sizing. This is nothing more than a starch made into paste and thinned down. It is laid on with a kalsomine brush. This stretches the muslin very tight. If Physioc is particularly interested in a drop he may paint it himself, but it is more likely that he will turn it over to scenic painters, who can follow the model and do it just as well.

The whole scene is first sketched in with charcoal, after the canvas is laid out in squares to make sure of perspective. The painter works constantly beside his canvas. The bridge is only three or four feet wide. He cannot walk away and see how the thing will look, and it would not do him much good if he did, because a scene in daylight bears little resemblance to one at night.

Joseph A. Physioc’s paint palette table in his studio. Illustration published in “The World” (March 6, page 43).

The painter simply has to know what his work will look like illuminated by artificial light. In daytime the best scenes are frightful looking things, outrageous daubs for the most part, utterly untrue in drawing and color. Having sketched the scene with charcoal, the painter may lay it in with ink in order to preserve it. Then he lays on a thin priming.

“It looks to be blind and uncertain work to a lay man,” said Physioc, “but the painter knows exactly the effect he is producing. Things that look like mere daubs to the unskilled eye have a deal of meaning to the educated one. The painter can see the broad effects toned down, the yellow turned whiter, the purples grayer, the blues deeper, the pinks pinker. One has to learn these things by going constantly to the theatre and watching the effect of light on scenes and the results of using different tones.”

Nothing emphasizes more clearly the difference between a landscape or figure painting and scene painting than the palette. Your oil artist has a palette which he holds in his thumb and upon which he mixes his colors daintily. The scenic painter has a palette. It is a bench seven feet long and a foot and a half wide. There is a little shelf on the back, which runs the whole length. This supports the colors, placed in dishes like the abominable things in which vegetables are served in country hotels.

The paint palette table of Jesse Cox, currently on display at the Theatre Museum in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa.

a paint dish and brush on Jesses Cox’s palette table, now on display at the Theatre Museum in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa.

There are thirty-two colors in active use as a rule. Of course, a painter blends now and then in order to get an effect. When you look at one of the drops on the frame, you wonder what the painter does with the thirty-two colors. They look amazingly untidy. The painter dips his brush into a jar of very dirty water [size], gathers up some paint, mixes it on the palette and applies it in an offhand manner that suggests a determined effort to get rid of it.

A signed watercolor painting by Joseph A. Physioc that recently sold during an online auction.

When it comes to painting in the river in this “Bonnie Brier Bush” scene, the matter becomes delicate. To begin with, the Drumtochty is flowing along as peacefully and smoothly as Scotch dialect. But the storm causes it to overflow its banks and make trouble, just as the Scotch dialect does when there is too much of it.

The painter must make allowances for the rising and general misbehavior of that river, just as he must make allowances for the sky. The effect is gained by manipulating the back of the drop. If you look at the drop on the miniature stage with the lights in front the Drumtochty is peaceful. Place a light behind and it is moving over the banks and tearing down the bridge. Of course both scenes are painted in, and one or the other is brought out by the different position of the lights and the stereopticon. A stereopticon properly played on a drop prepared with this end in view can give almost any effect. The difficulty is in the preparation of the drop.

After the drop is painted for the sunlight scenes, it must be painted for the night scenes, the dark ones rather. This is done by painting the back. A boy takes his position at the back. A strong light is played upon the drop. It is plain enough where are the trees and other things through which the light is not to shine. The back of these is painted brown or black so that they are opaque. Whereas the sky, the interstices in the foliage and river are left translucent so that the red light behind it will suggest a sunset, and a blue light will convey the idea of a moon and so on.

It will, therefore, be seen that the relation between lighting and the scenery is peculiarly intimate, and Physioc’s reason for taking up the mysteries of lighting as well as painting is apparent. It may be remarked incidentally that in this third act in Ian Maclaren’s dramatized story the audience is in London, before Westminster, to be exact. The change is made in a few seconds.

“This Westminster drop is a good deal harder to paint that the Drumtochty scene,” says Physioc. “It doesn’t require any creative power or any great draft upon the imagination, but it must be exact for the reason that Westminster Abbey is a reasonably well-known piece of architecture. Not only is it necessary to make a close copy, but we must be careful about the coloring. As a matter of fact, the majority of people cannot see Westminster Abbey as it really is. Therefore we must paint it as the majority think they see it. This holds good in the whole realm of scenic painting. If we were absolutely truthful, if we copied nature as closely as may be, the scenes would be frightful failures. The truth, the actual thing would look not in the least a bit real. We must present what the greater number thinks is true, and this makes the difference between good and bad scene painting. We cannot forget for an instant that people look at our work over the footlights.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 365 – “How Theatrical Scenery is Made,” 1898 (scale models, part 2)

Part 365: “How Theatrical Scenery is Made,” 1898 (scale models, part 2)

Below is an article depicting Joseph A. Physioc’s studio in New York, published in “The World” during 1898 (March 6, page 43). It provides great insight into the scenic art profession and design process at the end of the nineteenth century. Here is the second of four installments:

“The average person who goes to the theatre and is delighted and amazed with the beauties of the settings has the most shadowy idea of how they are brought about. He cannot grasp the enormous amount of work involved.

When a scenic artist is engaged to make the settings for a new production. The play itself is first read to him, or he may be permitted to read and study the play for himself. The manager determines how elaborate the scenes are to be.

The scenic artist is supposed to be able to roam over the wide world. He must know how a bungalow looks in India and make himself familiar with the vegetable life and foliage of the country. He must go research back in ancient Egypt of into modern Africa. He must know architecture and the habits and life of the people who appear in the play.

Of course the scenic painter carries these things and a thousand others that he must know in his head. But he must know where to turn for them. Sometimes the research requires months.

Then he must carefully study the action of the play and make all allowances for any business that is of more or less importance. He must preserve the harmonies. For instance, the surroundings of the romantic play like “Under the Red Robe” would be entirely different from a pastoral play, although they might be held in the same place. That which is called the optique de theatre must be preserved.

The scenic artist must so design the scenery that it may be easily handled, and above all, every piece must be so made that it will pass through a door of 9 feet 6 inches. That is the size of doors of baggage cars, and it is expected that every play will “go on the road.”

Physioc is now working upon the scenery for “The Bonnie Brier Bush,” and it serves as an excellent opportunity to illustrate the method of preparing for a big production.

After reading the play, he secured pictures of Drumtochty – actual photographs. He secured photographs of the houses and the furnishings. He read up on the manners of the people and made sure about the tables and chairs and the clocks and all manner of things.

Having gathered his material he prepared to lay out the scenes. First he drew a sketch on a piece of paper – a rough pencil sketch. Some of the minor interior scenes he worked out swiftly enough. The more important scenes were studied over for a long time. A day was spent over the final sketch of the third set scene, which is the most effective of the play.

Then he set about making the model, and this is the most important part of the whole process. It is an exact miniature representation of the scene as it will appear on stage.

It shows the Drumtochty in the background, spanned by bridges. In the middle ground the road apparently sinks into a depression. On the right is a hill, on the left a rye field surrounded by a stone fence.

The first difficult thing is perspective. Stage perspective is absolutely false, according to the rules of art and optics. But it is true to itself. The reason lies in the flat stage. The base line cannot conform to the line of vision. Therefore it is necessary to make an imaginary base line some five feet above the real line.

The color scheme is less important from the first. Your scenic painter must paint one scene to meet all manner of meteorological conditions. In this particular scene the action opens in the morning, late in midsummer. The mist is rising from the river and the mountains. This effect is secured by means of gauze and screens. Then the sun shines in splendor. Everything is bright and brilliant. The rye n the field is waving, the leaves in the trees are rustling. The lights are largely responsible for this effect.

Then a tremendous mountain storm breaks forth in darkness and fury. Again are the lights is to be depended upon, but the scenery must be so painted that the lights can be effective.

The rear drop is made to bear the burden. It is translucent. Throwing a light in front with the back dark makes one effect. A light back of the drop produces another. Wherefore it will be seen that the painting of these drops is a silicate matter. They must be effective, artistic, and have a similitude of truth under wholly different conditions.

Physioc finishes his models very carefully. He makes them to a scale of three-quarters of an inch to a foot. Every tree is in its place and painted carefully. The foliage is cut out exactly, as it is in a finished scene. And this is the only work that the artist does not do himself.

The finished model is firmly supported on a frame. It is about three and a half feet long. Then it is taken to the miniature stage for the final test. It is slipped in place and it only remains to turn on the lights.

In order to carry out the illusion, this little stage has a proscenium arch. It has footlights of different colors and all manner of other lights, including a calcium effect. The lights can be regulated so that any degree of brilliancy may be had. Physioc has established an electric-light plant of his own, simply for his miniature stage.

The switchboard is exactly like that in a theatre. It is much bigger than the stage itself. There are red lights, blue lights, combinations giving the effect of dawn, of early morning, of high noon, of dusk, of night, of storm and moonlight, every possible thing in the way of lighting on a stage is shown with this model. Nothing is left to guess work. It is perfectly demonstrated how a finished scene will look. If there is anything wrong, it can be corrected.

If you ever look at scenery at close range, you will understand what an advantage this miniature is. Physioc has found this device, which is his own invention, of enormous value. Often he has torn a model apart because the test showed that it was not satisfactory.

If the model meets with approval, then the making of the actual scenery begins. Of course the rear drop is the first thing painted, as this dominates the whole setting.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 360 – Thomas G. Moses at the Pike Theatre, 1897

Part 360: Thomas G. Moses at the Pike Theatre, 1897

During the Pike Theatre’s forty-week season during 1897 and into 1898, Thomas G. Moses supervised the creation of settings for David Belasco’s society drama “The Charity Ball.” Moses, Ed Loitz and Fred McGreer also painted settings for “The Wife,” “Capt. Swift,” “Shenandoah,” “The Banker’s Daughter,” “Lottery of Love,” “Charlie’s Aunt,” “The Amazon,” “Trilby,” “Held by the Enemy,” and a few more shows. Moses recorded that it was a very successful season overall, writing, “The different newspapers gave our work splendid notice every week.”

Mid-season at the Pike, newspapers announced that the venue was no longer going to solely remain a vaudeville house (The Cincinnati Enquirer, 16 Dec., 1897, page 8). The house closed for the stock company to conduct rehearsals and “perfect all arrangements for its successful launching upon the field of comedy and melodrama that is to ensue at the theater.” David Hunt was the theatre manager who engaged James Neil as his stock company’s leading man and Edythe Chapman as the leading lady.

The Cincinnati Enquirer reported, “For a holiday week and mid-season period the Pike presented a peculiar appearance yesterday. With the doors closed and not a light burning except a side reflector on the stage, the house was as dark and chilly as the day, when the new policy of the Pike goes into effect with the initial appearance of the Neil Stock Company in “The Charity Ball.” New scenery will be painted exclusively for the play and for all others that follow. For that purpose scenic artists will arrive from Chicago to-day. Thomas G. Moses, of the firm Sosman & Landis, one of the best scenic artists in the country, will be in charge of the work. In addition to the list of players in the stock company, as published in The Enquirer yesterday, the management of the Pike has engaged Miss Angela Dolores, formerly with the Girard Avenue Theater, Philadelphia, and a well-known actress in light comedy” (20 Dec., 1897, page 2).

Thomas G. Moses led a crew that included Fred McGreer and Ed Loitz. Moses recorded that he thoroughly enjoyed working at the Pike Theatre. Part as his reason was that he could return home every three weeks to spend a few days with his family. Of the project, he wrote, “I was anxious to do good work. It naturally meant long hours and hard steady work.”

Moses described, “Held by the Enemy” in detail. He wrote, “James Neill was a leading man, and Edythe Chapman leading lady. I worked out some color schemes by harmonizing my interior color decorations with Miss Chapman’s best costumes. There was one interior that I didn’t and here is the reason. Mr. [David] Hunt found fault with my neutral coloring and said one day, “Why don’t you make some positive color decoration like pink or green?” I had the first act of “Held by the Enemy” on the frame – a southern interior. I said, “Alright, I will make this a pink wall and cream colored woodwork.” “Fine,” said he. I did so. I did not consult Miss Chapman as usual. The scene was set. I was in front as usual during the performance. Miss Chapman entered. I saw her look up the scene and almost fall back. She had on a shell pink, deep flounced and a very full hoop skirt. I nearly fainted. I was sick. I rushed back at the close of the act and found her in tears. As soon as she saw me she said, “Oh, why did you do it – didn’t you know I was going the limit on my dress?” She had forgotten that I did not consult her, as I usually did. I pointed to Mr. Hunt. “There is the one I tried to please.” Hunt then realized he was wrong and I had been right all season. I painted out the wall color the next morning, for it simply killed Miss Chapman’s dress, as there was so much of it.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 358 – Thomas G. Moses and the English Opera House in Indianapolis

Part 358: Thomas G. Moses and the English Opera House in Indianapolis

In 1897 Thomas G. Moses briefly left the Sosman & Landis annex studio. He journeyed to Indianapolis where he painted “a complete outfit” for a Valentine Theatre Company production at the English Opera House. Two years earlier, Moses painted a set of stock scenery for the company’s home, the new Valentine Theatre in Toledo, Ohio. For more information about his previous work at the Valentine Theatre, see installment #331.

Postcard of the English Hotel and Opera House in Indianapolis, Indiana.

Photograph of the English Hotel and Opera House in Indianapolis, Indiana, where Thomas G. Moses painted scenery for the Valentine Theatre Company in 1897.

The English Hotel and Opera House in Indianapolis was expanded during 1896. The new venue was dedicated on October 26, 1897, and advertised as a “first-class theatre.” The price tag for the new theatre was $110,000, with the theatre block costing over $750,000. The New York Times reported, “The house, scenery, and curtain were painted by Thomas G. Moses of Chicago” (New York Times, 27 Oct. 1897, page 1). The venue’s stage was 35’ wide by 43’-6” deep. The proscenium was a series of receding arches, in ivory and gold. The stage was cut off from the auditorium with an asbestos curtain.

Proscenium arch and stage at the English Opera House in Indianapolis, Indiana.

View of the auditorium from the stage at the English Opera House in Indianapolis, Indiana.

The English Opera House was another renovation project by J. B. McElfatrick & Sons during their prolific thirty-year period from 1880 to 1910. The firm designed, built, and renovated theaters across the country. McElfatrick also worked with George H. Ketcham for many of his venues that included the English Theatre, the Grand Opera House (Columbus) and the Valentine Theatre (Toledo). These three theaters all used stock scenery collections painted by Moses and his crew. At the English Theatre Moses painted the new scenery with his assistants Fred McGreer and Ed Loitz; he wrote, “I think we did some good work.”

Fred McGreer. From the Cincinnati Enquirer (15 April 1900, page 12)

While Moses was in Indianapolis, projects began rapidly coming into the Sosman & Landis shops; his absence was acutely felt in the studio. Of this time, Moses wrote, “Early fall found Mr. Landis and Mr. Hunt camped on my trail; offering me the Pike Theatre Stock Company work at Cincinnati for the season. They agreed to send down enough drops from the studio to complete my contract. I accepted $75.00 per week and went, taking McGreer and Loitz.” This was during the same time when David Hunt joined Joseph Sosman and Perry Landis to form Sosman, Landis & Hunt, a theatrical management firm. One of their venues was the Pike Theater.

Illustration of Fred McGreer supervising the painting of scenery at the Pike Theatre. Fred McGreer. From the Cincinnati Enquirer (15 April 1900, page 12)

Moses’ typed manuscript indicates that he never really got along with Hunt. In Indianapolis, Hunt took credit for a series of articles and illustrations that appeared about their shows at the Pike. In fact, Moses was submitting the illustrations and struck up a friendship with the well-known theatre critic Montgomery Phister (1853-1917). He wrote, “Hunt never knew that I did it – he flattered himself the paper was doing it.” Hunt was a big talker and disliked by many of the scenic artists.

James Montgomery Phister was engaged in newspaper work for more than 40 years as a writer, cartoonist, and dramatic critic. He was well known for a reputation of fairness and accuracy in his criticism. Born in Maysville, Kentucky, Phister graduated from Woodward High School and continued his education at Yale University. During the Spanish-American war he served as a war correspondent. Of his many tours through Europe he was the guest of the noted English actor Irving. When he passed away on July 9, 1917, The Cincinnati Enquirer reported, “Every doorman and every stagehand knew him and respected him. He enjoyed the friendship of such great figures of the stage as Sir Henry Irving, the Sotherns, Bernhardt, Duse, Alexander Herrmann, Dixey and all of the best in the profession of that in the mimic world. He was a thirty-second degree Mason and a life member of N. C. Harmony Blue Lodge of Cincinnati” (“Twenty Years Ago in Cincinnati,” 9 July 1937, page 4).

Obituary of James M. Phister in 1917, published in the Evening Star (Washington, D.C.) 10 July 1917, page 12.

Phister had also worked as a scenic artist early in his career and developed a fondness for Moses. One day, Moses and Phister decided to play a small joke on Hunt to put him in his place. Hunt insisted that he was an expert on everything, especially if he didn’t know what he was talking about. Phister told Hunt, “I think Moses uses too much raw umber.” Hunt later repeated this to Moses as his own idea. Moses responded, “Raw umber! What kind of color is that? I don’t use it at all.” Hunt was stumped and reported back to Phister. Moses wrote, “We had a hearty laugh over it.”

The colonial color dry pigment version of raw umber.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 297 – The Color of Success

Dry pigment has four categories: earth colors, organic colors, manufactured colors, and mineral colors. Earth colors are those such as ochre, umber, and sienna. Organic colors are often plant-based like the indigos and Indian yellows or the red that is made from insects (cochineal). The manufactured colors are produced with a chemical process and are often the most toxic, but stunning. Mineral colors, such ultramarine (ground lapis lazuli), often have chemically-manufactured versions. In the end, some colors are considered “fugitive,” meaning they and are prone to change. Other colors may be labeled “poisonous” as they not only change, but also attack their neighbors.

My smallest dry pigment palette. This was when I was preparing to touch up at patch on a historic drop at the SOKOL Hall in St. Paul, Minnesota.

A selection of dry pigments brought to Santa Fe to be photographed and included in the book, “The Santa Fe Scottish Rite Temple: Freemasonry, Architecture and Theatre” Museum of New Mexico Press, 2018).

Dry pigment painting is incredibly complex if you are unfamiliar with the medium. There are surprises that will occur with certain color combinations. Old books, manuscripts, and other publications may briefly mention historical painting techniques with dry pigment, but you have to look for them. The Chicago Sunday Tribune article “Paint Mimic Scenes, Men Who Have Found Fame in the Wing and Drop Curtains” described the challenges of certain colors for the nineteenth century scenic artist (Dec, 18, 1892, page 41). For the article in its entirety, see installments #246 to 251. The article reported that scenic artist “must avoid powerful greens which become coarse” and “strong blues which grow black.” Furthermore, they must “exaggerate yellows which are robbed of strength by excessive light.”

I love studying dry pigment and historical scenic art techniques. It is both exciting and extremely frustrating. Just like making bread, a few simple ingredients can produce drastically different end products. To explore the nuances and master the color combinations is more than a simple challenge. Producing a new painting with dry pigment is radically different than trying to match colors during restoration. A new painted composition becomes all about technique. Restoring an old composition is all about science. You need to identify identify the correct color combination while factoring in discoloration, color characteristics and other factors that will continue to affect a hue over time.

“In painting,” or retouching damaged areas of paint on any historical backdrop is appealing to many people. You need to get in the original artist’s head and take the whole composition into account. This is the big appeal for many individuals during a restoration project, especially if they are artists.

Working on a Scottish Rite drop in Danville, Virginia, 2012.

I have frequently had people say, “give me a call when you get to the painting part.” They simply don’t understand that most of my knowledge comes from handling the historic scenes well before picking up a brush to apply any paint. One must also be familiar with the history of scenic art techniques as well as the history of color. Unless there is severe water damage, applying paint to a historic backdrop makes up approximately 5%, or less, of any restoration project. Ideally, you don’t want to apply any paint at all if the damage is minimal.

During restoration it is imperative to create a color chart of the colors. Dry pigment colors vary from manufacturer to manufacturer. Slight changes of color occur over time. Think of the current need to place batch numbers and manufacturing dates on cans of paint. There are always variables and if the paint fails, the manufacture needs to consider what happened to that entire batch, or whether something happened to the paint after it left the factory.

Scraps of dry pigment boxes shipped to Thomas G. Moses while working on site at the Scottish Rite theater in Fort Scott, Kansas.

Bag of dry pigment from Gothic. Dry pigment was shipped to restoration artists on site while working at the Scottish Rite in Deadwood, South Dakota (1990s).

Bag of dry pigment found backstage at the Deadwood Scottish Rite during November 2017.

For dry pigment powders, you cannot always identify a manufacturer, or even the decade when it was made. Some colors are no longer available, and yet they are still needed when mixing the correct sky colors. There is also the consideration that not every drop used the correct color combinations in the beginning. Not every studio purchased a good batch of binder and not ever paint boy prepared the size water correctly. I am sure that some projects left the studio with the instructions “just get it out the door today.”

Some colors have high dye contents. This means that a particular color – like malachite green – will continue to permeate any other color placed on top of it. A pure white highlight painted over a malachite green base will become a lovely shade of pale green. No matter how thick that white paint is when applied, the base color will rise to the surface. You have to understand what colors must be used sparingly. There is a science to the paint mixing and application.

The preparation of the dry pigment paste is also very important in the painting process. If you rush the preparation and a few granules do not dissolve in the paste they will eventually reappear – even a century later. Pigment granules that did not dissolve at the time of initial application will blossom when water (or any liquid) is introduced at a later date. You can literally see the granules on the surface of historic drops and there is nothing that can be done. If they are scraped off, the powder will spread and the color reappear. If the painted surface becomes wet, a yellow background with small particles of magenta that was mixed into the base color to “warm it up,” with turn the area bright pink.

Then there is whiting. Whiting is the wild card when mixing paint. It was a product used by scenic artists to both prime the fabric surface and lighten some of the colors. When mixed with other colors it can cause a wet color to appear many shades lighter once dry.

The difference between a wet and dry color (dry pigment and size water).

Light colors are the most tricky to match during restoration as the wet color applied to the composition appears to be nothing like what you are matching. You just have faith that it will dry the same shade and that there wasn’t anything in the original base coat that will shift the final color. The variables are the type of whiting and the type of color. There is nothing like having a dark blue magically transition to sky blue in the last thirty seconds of drying a test sample.

Adding whiting during restoration of roll drop last summer. Shieldsville Catholic Church, 2017.

Matching color during restoration of a roll drop last summer, Shieldsville Catholic Church 2017. Being able to use similar scraps of old drop fabric is very helpful.

Regardless of all the ups and downs, painting with dry pigment is extremely exciting. It is therapeutic, like the ceremony of making tea. Yes, some people can heat up a cup of water in the microwave and plop a tea bag in for their cup of earl grey. However, there is another process: the careful measuring of loose-leaf tea, the correct water temperature and straining the tealeaves that is almost like a ritual. Your first sip marks success. The preparation of dry pigment and hide glue mirrors that same ritual process for me. Anyone can pop open a can and scoop out color. I enjoy sharing a heritage with those who came before me.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 295: Dry Pigment and Hide Glue

Yesterday I mentioned the difference between the artistic medium used by panorama artists and theatre artists. It is now time to clarify how Thomas G. Moses painted scenery his whole career. The 1924 Fort Scott scenery collection was also created in this same way. He used an artistic medium that was known to nineteenth century scenic artists as distemper painting. Scenic artists combined dry pigment paste and diluted hide glue called “size” to paint theatre backdrops.

Ground hide glue (center) and dry pigment. This picture was taken when preparing images to illustrate my chapter in the upcoming book “The Santa Fe Scottish Rite Temple: Freemasonry, Architecture and Theatre” (Museum of New Mexico Press, 2018).

The Chicago Sunday Tribune article “Paint Mimic Scenes, Men Who Have Found Fame in the Wing and Drop Curtains” described distemper painting (Dec, 18, 1892, page 41). The article reported, “the color work is all done in distemper and dries rapidly…The artist must not only be active but certain in the performance of his task. In using distemper the artist must paint solidly, otherwise his work will take the dirty complexion of thin oil and be ruined.” The articles reference to “paint solidly” meant making sure there was enough color, or pigment in the paint and that it was thick enough to completely cover the fabric. The paint application needed to appear opaque and not look like a colored water stain.

Dry pigment is pure color. It can be transformed into a variety of products, like colored chalks (pastels) or paint. The pure pigment colors are created from a variety of sources that can include plants, minerals, insects, and chemical processes.

The dry pigment is ground into a fine powder and mixed with water, prior to adding any binder. The pigment paste could also be stored in a container for quite a while. The worst that would happen is that it would dry out and harden. It the pigment paste did dry out, it only needed to be crushed up again and reconstituted with water.

Dry and wet forms of dry pigment and hide glue.

In 1916, Frank Atkinson wrote a book called “Scene Painting and Bulletin Art.” Some scholars believe that he described many of the practices commonly used at the Sosman & Landis Studios. In his book, Atkinson explained, “the medium for binding distemper is known as “size,” or sizing (page 154). He goes on to describe the purchase and preparation of the binder for scenic art. Any binder can be mixed with the pigment paste, but scenic artists commonly used diluted hide glue called “size.”

Hide glue is the gelatinous substance obtained from rendering animal hides and hooves. Think of the old threat about sending a horse to the glue factory. The hides are boiled to create a jelly that is dried. There are a variety of qualities and the strength of the final product can vary from batch to batch. This factor, as well as the actual preparation, directly contributes to the overall life expectancy of the backdrop. Once the hide glue is dried and solid, it is sold as a block, granules or fine powder. In this form it also has an extended shelf life and is easily stored for indefinite periods of time. Both dry pigment and dry hide glue could be easily stored and shipped to various locations.

Dry hide glue must be returned to a liquid state prior to mixing with pigment paste. There are various ways to prepare hide glue and much depends on personal preference. I like to soak the glue in water, ideally overnight, before slowly heating it up to thick syrup. It will eventually have the consistency of honey or molasses. You can purchase an expensive electric glue pots, use a double boiler on a stove top, or even a crockpot on the “low” or “warm” setting. Some people are very particular about this, but I am not. The big thing is to make sure that the glue doesn’t boil. Think of preparing hide glue like green tea, find the perfect temperature below boiling.

The quality and type of the glue will either make the syrup appear murky or clear. Reconstituted hide glue is further diluted with water – one part syrup to one part water to make “strong size.” Some artists used strong size alone to seal the fabric’s surface when painting with dye. Others mixed whiting into the strong size and create a primer for the fabric prior to painting a backdrop with dry pigment.

Strong size is further diluted with water to make working size, or size water. Due to the natural properties of the binder, once transformed into a liquid state, there is a very limited shelf life. It rots fairly quickly and smells of death. A way to prevent the quick failure of size water is to store it in a glass container and refrigerate it. You also never put size water in a plastic container, especially one that had been previously used to store another substance. Foreign properties will leach out of the plastic. You also never place the glue in an airtight container, otherwise you create your own little smelly science experiment. I plan accordingly and make fresh size each day as the age will also affect the efficacy of this binder.

My glue supplier is Bjorn Industries out of North Carolina. I have discussed my need for animal glue during restoration projects with their chemist and he recommended the product HC351. It is fairly clear, strong, and remains slightly flexible when properly prepared. Rabbit skin glue is my second favorite to work with as an alternative, but it is extremely strong and can set up too quickly.

If binder were not mixed with the dry pigment paste, the color would could not stick to the fabric surface. It would simply dust off over time. Poor preparation, high humidity and other factors can cause the binder to fail, allowing the pigment to eventually release from the fabric. This is a common problem with historical scenery collections. It is also a health hazard. Many dry colors are quite toxic if they become airborne and or inhaled. However, this is not solely an issue with historic dry pigment. ALL paints are toxic if allowed to become airborne and are inhaled. Think of spray paint. Many people often don’t understand the health hazards related to our seemingly “safe” and current pre-mixed products, especially the water-based versions. You have to know what you’re doing, be aware of your surroundings, and stay safe.

Wet and dry version of paint made with dry pigment and diluted hide glue.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 246 – Men Who Found Fame in the Wing and Drop Curtains, the Scenic Studio

The same year that the Sosman & Landis Annex studio opened, an article appeared in the Chicago Sunday Tribune, “Paint Mimic Scenes, Men Who Have Found Fame in the Wing and Drop Curtains” (Dec, 18, 1892, page 41). Here is the continuation of that article started in installment #245:

Illustration of the paint bridge at the [Chicago] Auditorium. Published in a Chicago Sunday Tribune article, 1892.

“The scene bridge being the highest inhabited portion of the stage few people are familiar with its surroundings, or how the artist gets his effects. He paints primarily for location in a great “shadow box,” which is the stage, always making calculations for distances, angles, and the witchery of lights. Scenic art of high grade is, however, regarded today as only different from other studio art in its breadth – a mere question of scale. As to the quality of finish it may be remarked that when scenery is lacking in detail it is due to lack of knowledge in the painter, lack of time, certainly not in accord with any principle of stage painting. Formerly the theatrical painter was expected to be truly catholic in his accomplishments, and was called to attempt any subject that the playwright might designate. Now this work, as in other lines of art, is falling more to specialists, and with far better results in figure, drapery, landscape, or architectural design. In spite of many drawbacks in the past, scene painting as a school has been an excellent one. Witness many good men who have left it to win distinction in the galleries of Europe and America: De Loutherbourg, Porter, Boulet, Jacquet, Lavignoc, Leitch, Stanfield, Roberts, Allen, Cole, Detaille, Kingsbury, Potast, Rymnosky, Wets, Guetherz, Peigelheim, H. Fillaratta, Homer Emmons, Charles Graham, and J. Francis Murphy. It will be observed that this list has members of the English Royal Academy, some famous Germans and Frenchmen, and, too, America is ably represented.

Scenic painting is not necessarily a course art because one cannot read a square yard of a scene 70×40 feet at a distance of a few feet. To judge any picture one should be sufficient distance to allow the eye to take in the entire subject. On the basis of this test a well and carefully painted scene will be found to be as finished as the majority of pictures, or even more so.

Extending over the rear of the stage on a level with the “fly gallery” is the scene bridge. It is from six to eight feet in width, but this is the distance from which the artist must regulate his perspective and study his color effect. The canvas to be painted having been glued in its frames, and hung in position so that its top is level with the gallery, the great frame on either side of the bridge being raised or lowered as occasion requires, the canvas is treated to a coat of priming by an assistant. The artist then goes over this surface with a charcoal crayon enlarging the scale of design from a small model previously prepared. He may then outline detail in ink and dust off the charcoal. As the color work is all done in distemper and dries rapidly, the artist must not only be active but certain in the performance of his task. If the scene be an exterior, particular care must be observed in the blending of the sky, as laps of color will ruin atmospheric effect. In using distemper the artist must paint solidly, otherwise his work will take the dirty complexion of thin oil and be ruined. He must avoid powerful greens which become coarse; strong blues which grow black; exaggerate yellows which are robbed of strength by excessive light; and, if the management is economical, use carmine sparingly.

Limited space will not permit of any description of scenic work in interesting detail. It is a curious fact that in Europe scenery is painted on the floor instead of having the canvas stretched on a framework. The original outfit of the Auditorium was thus painted in Vienna. Long-handled brushes are used in this work and the artists perch high on stools to gain their idea of perspective.

Note: I was fascinated that the article mentioned the first scenery for the Chicago Auditorium was painted in the European style – on the floor and not on a vertical paint frame. Then there is the suggestion that this only pertained to the first set, not all other painted scenery produced for the venue. Furthermore, the article included an illustration of the Auditorium paint bridge.

To be continued…