Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 341 – Green Room Gossip From 1895, the Scenic Artist

Part 341: Green Room Gossip From 1895, the Scenic Artist

Thomas G. Moses worked as the scenic artist at Chicago’s Schiller Theatre during 1895. He painted the settings for all of the productions on their paint frames. He also rented the old Waverly Theatre space as he had more work than could be completed at the Schiller.

I understand that it is hard to appreciate the complexity and demands of the painting process at the time that Moses was working, especially as I discuss the many projects that Moses’ was simultaneously completely during the late-nineteenth century.

Below is an informative article about the artistic process and the role of the scenic artist, published in the Times-Picayune (New Orleans, Louisiana) on February 10, 1895 (page 22). Here is a portion of the article from the “Green Room Gossip” section of the Times-Picayune. It provides additional context for Moses’ story as we move forward:

Heading from the Times-Picayune (New Orleans, Louisiana, February 10, 1895, page 22) that details activities related to the theatre.

“When a manager has finally decided to produce a new play, his troubles have just begun. One of the first things to demand is the proper pictorial equipment. Just as the editors of illustrated periodicals of to-day send their accepted articles to the artist for illustration, so the theatrical manager puts his play in the hands of the scenic artist. Sometimes periodical illustrations cause the reader to wonder whether the illustrator read the story before he made the drawing or whether the cuts got mixed in the composing-room. The play illustrator is too important a factor in the box-office success to admit of similar mistakes.

[The manager] sometimes employs a scenic artist by contract, but usually the necessary assistant rents the space he needs in the theatre and charges the manager for work done for him, just as he charges outside managers for work done for them. The scenic artist, then, receives the manuscript from the manager, reads it carefully, notes from the authors description of scenes whether the locality is special or general, and where the scenery must be “practical” – with real doors to open, trees which may be climbed, fences that may be jumped- and where it is possible to make it purely representative.

The locality is the first point, naturally. Even if none be mentioned, in these days of photography, it is far more satisfactory to find a real locality which would fit the play, and which would, therefore, be more likely to differ from a thousand and one other scenes which have already been used as backgrounds for other general plays. From photographs or sketches of real bits of scenery, the artist most often draws his ground plans for what he considers a good stage picture suited to the action of the play.

These models are then placed convenient to the eye and hand in his studio, the main feature of which is really the back wall of the theatre, with a great paint bridge running about 25 feet above the stage floor. There is a space about a foot wide between the bridge and the wall, and in the space hangs the paint frame. When the stage carpenter has built the scenes according to the artist’s model, the paint frame is lowered to the stage floor, a piece of scenery is attached to it by means of a narrow ledge at the bottom, drops are tacked on and set pieces fastened at convenient points, then the frame is raised until it is where the artist wants it as he stands upon the bridge. The frame can, or course, be moved up and down, at the painter’s need.

The prime coating of the canvas is made of a mixture composed of whiting, glue and water. The artist has several assistants, many of whom are virtually learning the trade, but in exterior scenes the scenic artist himself usually does all of the painting; in the interiors he makes the finishing touches. Of course the work is done by daylight, and it takes a very skillful worker in colors to know just what the effects the various kinds and degrees of artificial light will have upon the painted scenery.

And yet the scenic artist is not too highly valued from a financial point of view. It takes, usually, six or eight years to attain the necessary skill and an average income of $80 a week is considered very good. From the manager’s point of view there is a difference. The necessary scenery for a play will frequently cost $1500 for the carpenter work and twenty-five hundred dollars for the coloring, without taking into account the sums paid for costumes, properties and the innumerable other accessories to proper play-producing.

Until applause greets him on the momentous “first night” and large audiences greet him for many nights thereafter, the manager, be ever hardened, endures endless anxiety from the minute the new play is chosen. If one proves a failure, he will be out a considerable sum at the best, for critics will know if he attempts to use the same costumes and special properties later on, or if he saves the scenery until it can be worked in other plays, a piece at a time; and critics seldom keep anything to themselves. He may have a new scene painted on the back of the old and save a part of the carpenter’s bill, but this is frequently the best that can be done. With all his risks and frequent failures, the theatrical manager is usually the last one to complain. When a play does not go, he simply pays the piper and tries again.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 303: The Scenic Art Process of Fred McGreer

Next to photo in article: “The illustrations accompanying this show Mr. McGreer and his assistants at work on the paint bridge as well as several other phases of the work incidental to making the scenic productions for the famous play.” Cincinnati Enquirer 15 April 1900, page 12.

In 1900, Fred McGreer described his artistic process to the Cincinnati Enquirer (15 April 1900, page 12). Here is the second half of the article:

“I am able to outline the scenes after they have been coated with glue priming, for which a particular glue is used that will not crack. After the priming had dried I sketch the outlines with charcoal, and meanwhile the assistants are mixing their paints in buckets, and when I have concluded they set to work painting the scenery. In this process, first the broad colors are laid in and then comes the ornamentation, such as the figures on the walls of interiors, or colors for the moldings to get the lights and shadows. This is ended with the detail work of what we call bringing the scene together. It is like the finishing touches you see the rapid-fire artists put on their pictures in the vaudeville theaters when a form emerges out of what is apparently a chaos of conflicting colors. At this period I may discover too much red at the base of a scene, or not enough red beneath the cornice of an exterior, and these must be toned down.

With the scene painted it is again hustled off the paint frame to make room for another act. The painted set goes back to the carpenter to be cut out and attached to the lines running to the rigging loft, there being three lines to each drop. The columns and solid sections which will be noticeable in “Quo Vadis” are made of what we call profile board. It is a wooden veneer and is pre-hinged to a stand shipping. These columns also stand by themselves as though apparently part of the setting.

Cincinnati Enquirer article on Fred McGreer (15 April 1900, page 12).
Cincinnati Enquirer article on Fred McGreer (15 April 1900, page 12).

In the first scene for “Quo Vadis” the case is different. The entire scene was originally painted on one big drop and then after it was completed I ‘red lined’ the whole scene. This is to outline the columns and vases with a delicate red line, which the carpenter follows in sawing out these separate sections. They are then all placed in position on the stage and the stuff that has been cut out is fastened together with a delicate netting which is invisible to the audience. The perspective created the impression that they are standing alone though really the entire set is one big drop. Some idea of the work required can be gained from the explanation that a single drop of this description generally requires the efforts of the carpenter and four assistants an entire evening to fix up. On the drop for this garden scene we used 1080 feet of cloth and about 75 pounds of paint. In order to attach them to the rigging loft about 300 feet of rope is also used. Now another heavy scene is in the arena setting for the last act, in which over 700 feet of platform space is required, built up to a height running from two feet and reaching the topmost platform 15 feet above the stage. These platforms are all hinged and made so they will fold for shipment as the piece goes on the road after it is used here.

In ‘Quo Vadis’ every scene is numbered and arranged so that it can be put together hurriedly and when brought into a theater is very much like the animal puzzles that are so popular with the Children at Christmas. Only the stagehands will just know where every piece goes without being puzzled.

Mr. McGreer in conclusion estimates that he has painted over 30,000 feet of canvas for the big production this week and used about 2,000 pounds of paint in doing it, in addition to five barrels of whiting alone was used, while the paint was distributed among 20 or more colors. For ‘Quo Vadis’ everything had to be made new as nothing like it had been produced at the Pike.

Cincinnati Enquirer article on Fred McGreer (15 April 1900, page 12).

Mr. McGreer during his two seasons at the local theater has mapped out and painted over 220 stage settings, and of these the ratio ran about three interiors to one exterior. The mere mechanical work of making the scenes is antedated by studies of the costumes as the ladies dresses and the scene colors must harmonize, and historical research as historical accuracy is demanded in these times. In all his stay, nothing has been used over much, excepting the solid doors that figure in Pike productions. These doors have been doing service for three seasons. They have been slammed by the impetuous Nigel or gently brought to by the careful Todman, but in all that time the same old doors groaned under the weight of added paint until now they are so heavy it takes a firm grasp and a long pull to draw them open.

But this is digressing from Mr. McGreer. Next week this popular artist will bid adieu for the summer, at least to his den back of the big white lady. He goes to New York, having been engaged by Gates and Morange, the scenic artist there. If long and varied experience will count for aught, Mr. McGreer is sure to make his mark there for few visiting attractions as the first class houses have exhibited scenery which compares to that which has been in evidence so frequently at the Pike.”

Cincinnati Enquirer article on Fred McGreer (15 April 1900, page 12).

During the summer of 1900, McGreer left for New York to work for Gates & Morange. This was the same year that both Thomas G. Moses and Grace N. Wishaar were painting scenery in New York City too. It was the place to be that later led to many other projects across the country for inspiring young artists. By 1901 McGreer was listed as creating the scenery for Morosco’s Grand Opera House in San Francisco. It doesn’t appear that Fred McGreer ever returned to Cincinnati.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 302 – The Scenic Art of Fred McGreer

In 1900, Fred McGreer described his artistic process to the Cincinnati Enquirer (15 April 1900, page 12). The article’s heading was “Vast Amount of Artistic Labor Contributed by Scenic Artist Fred McGreer Toward the Success of Many Pike Productions. Will Be Shown in Details of Presentation ‘Quo Vadis.’ Some Interesting Light on the Architectural Side of Scene Building – The Artist’s Work.”
Cincinnati Enquirer article from 1900 about Fred McGreer, scenic artist
McGreer worked for two years as the official scenic artist for the Pike Theatre after venturing south from Chicago with Thomas G. Moses. The Cincinnati article is certainly worth posting in its entirety, especially as the newspaper scan is barely legible and I have spent hours deciphering the faded font. The article provides invaluable information pertaining to the scenic art process during the 1890s.
 
Here is the first section of the article:
 
“Perched up in a little room on level with the head of a big white lady who holds a cluster of electric lights, over the right proscenium box at the Pike, is a small room in which an unseen factor in many successes at that house toils industriously day after day making for success on the Pike Stage.
 
The potent influence is Mr. Fred McGreer, the capable scenic artist, whose stage settings at the Pike have been a prominent feature of the 60 odd productions seen at the house during two seasons he has worked there.
The writer, after climbing up a narrow flight of winding stairs and stumbling over bits of scenery reached this little den the other day, and found Mr. McGreer hard at work sketching out the stage plan for Nero’s banquet hall which will be seen there this weekend in ‘Quo Vadis.’ Rich in scenic opportunities, Mr. McGreer had spread himself on this big production, and, judging solely by the care and work he has lavished on it, the scenic side of the piece promises to be a triumph. Leading man and lady, villain or adventuress, or the others have thrilled with the applause at the Pike for their efforts, but Mr. McGreer who has contributed a great share to the stock company’s weekly offerings, seldom hears the same applause for his art as distinctly worthy as that of the players.
 
If the reader will follow we will take journey into his little den off the third landing of the winding stairs and see if we can’t get a faint peak at the amount of work a new production means to the indefatigable artist. You can imagine you climbed the stairway and arrived at the room, him half out of breath, with the writer who felt how sadly he had neglected his athletics. A generous part of the room is Mr. McGreer, a young man attired in a well-frescoed pair of shoes highly daubed overalls pulled over his other clothing. His sketches are works of art and marks the backdrops used in the course of a season, while at the other end a big roll of paper stands awaiting instructions.
 
When the photographer arrived, Mr. McGreer had just finished the elevation for the Nero palace. He gave clear insight into the business side in painting a theatrical setting, which the average playgoer sitting in front would never realize from simply looking at it. “We’ll begin at the beginning,” said Mr. McGreer when told that his description of how a scene is built up was wanted. “The first thing that I do is to read the manuscript of the play to be put on. Then comes a consultation with the stage director regarding the practical openings for each setting of the play as every exit and entrance must be letter perfect so that the players will be kept within the point or sight and at the same time be able to make their exits properly. This done I map out the stage plans for the carpenter with the elevations for each set, and he sets to work to make the wooden frames for the various scenes.”
 
On these plans the frames are all cut out and placed just as they go. Then the heavy drill cloth is fastened to the braces which are attached to the paint frame. This is worked by a windlass that can raise or lower the canvas at will. The artists work on what is called the bridge while painting the scenery. This is a narrow platform suspended about 30 feet above the stage at the rear wall and the paint frames operates up or down close to this so that we can work up to the height on the drop merely by moving the windlass in whatever direction desired.”
Scenic artists painting a drop from the paint bridge and carpenters covering flats on the stage floor at the Pike Theatre (Cincinnati Enquirer article from April 15, 1900, page 12).
Fred McGreer instructing scenic artists on the paint bridge at the Pike Theatre in Cincinnati (Cincinnati Enquirer article from April 15, 1900, page 12).
To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 172 – Thomas G. Moses’ Protégé, John H. Young

While researching scenic artists who worked with Thomas G. Moses, John H. Young kept reappearing in many documents. One of the best articles that I came across was a loose piece of paper from the John R. Rothgeb Papers at the Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas, Austin. It was a photocopied page of an article without any citation titled, “How Scene Painting is Done in a Big Studio, John H Young Goes About His Work in Systematic Fashion and Gives Public an Idea of How His Difficult Work is Performed.” There was no date or source to credit to this article. I have searched in vain, trying to track it down.

“How Scene Painting is Done in a Big Studio” Article in John R. Rothgeb Papers, Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas, Austin. No date. The information provided by John H. Young, scenic artist is wonderful. Illustration is one of his sketches from “The Highwayman.”
“How Scene Painting is Done in a Big Studio” Article in John R. Rothgeb Papers, Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas, Austin. No date. This is the only image that I have seen of John H. Young!
“John H. Young at Work” illustration in “How Scene Painting is Done in a Big Studio” John R. Rothgeb Papers, Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas, Austin. No date.

However, this is not a document that should be lost. It signifies a well-known designer and artist who got his start with Thomas G. Moses. Here is the article in its entirely as it is a treasure trove of information:

“No scenic artist in this country enjoys a higher reputation than John H. Young of the Broadway Theatre. Hardly a play of any moment which has been produced in the metropolis has been written without evidences of his careful and skillful touch, and for the road attractions they bristle with the touches of his brush.

But Mr. Young’s position in his special line has not been reached without long and conscientious work dating back nearly a score of years. Born in the early 60s, Mr. Young soon gave signs of his artistic bent by turning his back upon the allurements of Michigan farming, and he was barely out of his teens before he was turning out pictures, which, though the evinced talent, were lacking in that technique which can only come from study and practice. About this time Mr. Young had the good fortune to come in contact with Thomas Moses, the veteran scenic artist of the West, and the latter was quick to see signs of talent in his young protégé.”

For several years Mr. Young worked in concert with his instructor and the scenes that he painted caused so wide comment, that in time he came to New York, where he could find a better field for his abilities. New York managers were quick to appreciate his efforts and thus came about that the subject of this sketch was installed as chief artist at the Broadway, which position he has held for more than seven years.

The average manager, when he has selected a play, has but seldom anything more than the vaguest idea of what he wants in the way of scenery to enhance it. It is just here that Mr. Young steps in a rescues the befuddled manager from the slough of theatrical despondence. He gets the main incidents of the author’s story and suggests the possibilities of scenic illustration. Oftentimes the manager who is to produce the play has ideas of the most impractical nature and Mr. Young shows him a hasty sketch of the utter folly of attempting to reproduce them. Provided Mr. Young and the manager come to an agreement, the decided-upon scenes are first done in watercolors, and these, when finished are subjected to another inspection by both artist and manager. Changes are suggested here and there, and sometimes even, the whole work is gone over, when it is found advisable. When the preliminary sketch is satisfactory, the next step is to transform into a miniature set scene, which duplicates down to the most trifling detail, the contemplates larger on for the actual performance. For this performance Mr. Young has in his studio, a small stage fitted with all the appurtenances which belong to the most complex of the regular stages; there are trap doors, wings, fly-galleries, a drop curtain, electric light, and a maze of small cords and fixtures for managing the whole.

If it be a mill scene, for instance, that is being arranged, the duplicate in miniature must have the revolving wheel, the running water, the sluice-box, and nothing whatever must be lacking. Very often when all is completed and in place on this trial stage, something of an impractical nature may be discovered and remedied, before the expense of the larger model is incurred. Theoretically many wonderful stage scenes may be all right, but the little trial stage prevents all failures and fiascos so far as the mere scenery is concerned. Of course, after this point is reached – the test on the trial stage – nothing remains but the putting of the scenes into the proper shape for the public. Time is the principal factor in this, and the more scenes and the more full of mechanical contrivance they are the longer it takes, Mr. Young has been most fortunate in overcoming the difficulties which put the mere spectacular plays beyond the abilities of many scenic artists. In “Under the Poplar Star,” for nicety of construction and naturalness of action, Mr. Young’s iceberg scene has seldom been equaled, and in all of his work there is the same evidence of thorough art, combined with a broad grasp of mechanical detail.

To the layman, scenic painting is somewhat of a mystery, and if he gives any thought to it at all it is doubtful if he realizes the high order of artistic ability which one must possess in order to faithfully deploy upon mammoth stage canvases the scenes which reflect the spirit of the play. Not only has one got to be an artist to begin with, but he must be a perfect jack-at-all trades in order to transfer his preliminary small sketch to a back drop measuring sometimes more than 100×40 feet; in the main, the small pattern picture is ruled off into squares, each of which is consecutively numbered. Similar squares, but on a much larger scale are then drawn upon the great canvas and the sketch is then “blocked in” square for square and number by number. As long as four months is needed on some of the more pretentious scenes, though about six weeks is the average for an ordinary scene. To enumerate the plays for which Mr. Young has painted scenes is no easy task, but among them may be mentioned, “The Highwayman,”

“The Highwayman by John H. Young” illustration in “How Scene Painting is Done in a Big Studio” John R. Rothgeb Papers, Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas, Austin. No date.

“On the Bowery,” “Power of the Press,” “In Old Kentucky,” “Cumberland ’61,” “The Player,” “Pousee Café,” “Woman in Black,” “Under the City Lamps,” “Le Voyage de Susette,” “The Diamond Breaker,” “Monongahela,” “Trip to the Moon,” “Naval Cadet,” “Roaring Dick,” “La Falotte,” “Fallen Among Thieves,” “Polar Star,” “For the Crown,” “Lion Tamer,” “Across the Potomac,” “Power of Gold,” “Wang,” “Hamlet,” “Sidewalks of New York,” In addition, Mr. Young has painted many of the best drop curtains in the country, and as a water color artist he stands in the foremost rank. Nearly every exhibition of note is contributed to by him, and his work command a high price among discriminating purchasers.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 137 – There’s No Business Like Show Business (Ernest Albert)

After Albert, Grover & Burridge closed their studio in 1894, Ernest Albert returned to New York where he opened up his own shop – Albert Studios. By 1896, he moved to New Rochelle and continued an active scenic art career, producing stage designs for Booth & Barrett, Helena Modjeska, Edward H. Sothern, Julia Marlowe, William H. Crane, Nat C. Goodwin, Maxine Elliot, Fanny Davenport, Ethel Barrymore, Minnie Maddern Fiske, Klaw & Erlanger, and for Charles Frohman.

Ernest Albert (1857-1946). Newspaper clipping in Thomas G. Moses scrapbook. Sosman & Landis collection, Harry Ransom Center, University of Texas, Austin.

He was a prolific artist who designed 113 shows for Broadway between 1895 and 1919. New York venues included the Fifth Street Theatre, Casino Theatre, New York Theatre, Greenwich Village Theatre, Cort Theatre, Booth Theatre, Globe Theatre, Hippodrome Theatre, 44th Street Theatre, New Amsterdam Theatre, Grand Opera House, Longacre Theatre, Knickerbocker Theatre, Moulin Rouge, Astor Theatre, Jardin de Paris, Maxine Elliot’s Theatre, Weber’s Music Hall, Herald Square Theatre, West End Theatre, Broadway Theatre, Wllack’s Theatre, American Theatre, Liberty Theatre, Bijou Theatre, Hudson Theatre, American Theatre, Liberty Theatre, Majestic Theatre, Murray Hill Theatre, Thalia Theatre, Academy of Music, Weber and Field’s Broadway Music Hall, Berkeley Lyceum Theatre, Manhattan Theatre, Lyric Theatre, Victoria Theatre, Harlem Theatre, Criterion Theatre, Daly’s Theatre, Hoyt’s Theatre, and Theatre Republic. He also created the scenery for Ziegfield Follies productions in 1911,1912, and 1913. At one point, Albert had eight productions running simultaneously with scenery that he had designed and painted. Some of his more famous designs include “Ben Hur,” “Kismet,” and “Herod.”

Design for “Ben Hur” by Ernest Albert.
Scene from “Klaw & Erlanger’s stupendous production, Gen. Lew Wallace’s ‘Ben Hur’ produced at the Broadway Theatre, New York, Nov. 29th 1899” as pictured in Julius Cahn’s Theatrical Guide 1900-1901.

In a 1913 issue of “The New York Dramatic Mirror, ” Albert explained his own design process for the stage in an interview with Arthur Edwin Krows. He began a design after receiving “a commission for a scenic investiture in a play. ” The artist was first called into a meeting with the manger and author. He noted that the author usually knew what he wanted and would make a simple sketch “with some angles to represent the walls of a room perhaps, leaving open spaces for windows and doors, and if his artistic education has developed since his previous play, with some queer marks to represent tables and chairs.” Albert continued, “So the artist receives his instruction, act by act, for four or five acts.” He also added that it helped if the artist actually read the entire play manuscript as the author might overlook important details. This was not standard for the artist to read the play, but Albert insisted on it.

After the initial discussions, the artist would refer to his extensive library of clippings, plates and descriptions of every conceivable thing that was relevant to supply the correct details. As an example, he explained spending six months researching the particulars of “Ben Hur” stating, “When the production went on, I knew the exact height of every arch and gateway in Jerusalem.”

Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.
Souvenir program for “Ben-Hur” with designs by Ernest Albert.

Albert then explained that the artist made first sketches of the scene and then a half-inch scale model. The prevailing colors for the each setting were determined, specifically “the general tone of the act for which the set is used.” The completed model would be submitted to the manager and author for final approval. Adjustments were not made to the model, but careful notes were taken and filed away for the actual construction.

It was at this point that the carpenter was sent for to begin construction of the frames for various settings. He would take special care so that they could be readily handled when the set was struck for transportation, especially if the show went on the road. All scenery must be constructed to fit in a railroad car. Once the frames were constructed, the canvas was stretched over and sent to the paint studio. Typically, flats were designed to be folded, with the painted surface inward.

Albert explained that an artist’s function did not cease until the scenery was all installed and the lighting arrangements completed. He commented, “Lighting is within his province, just as groupings are in a measure. An unexpected orange light on violet, for instance, will produce a russet brown that will make everything look dirty. It is true that in the days of gas lighting much softer effects were possible, but I will sacrifice all of the advantages of mellow light for safety. I am a crank on fire regulation. It was very dangerous in the old days with the exposed rows of hot gas lights. It used to be amusing too, to see lights go out every once in a while when an actor would accidentally step on a soft gas pipe. Anyway, we are now avoiding many of the hard qualities of the electric light by greater use of ambers, straw colors, and pinks.” Wow. The artist controlled the lighting and this was still Albert’s standard practice in 1913.

Two years later, he designed a winter scene for the New York Hippodrome’s ice skating ballet under director Charles Dillingham. The painted composition was titled “Flirting at the Saint Moritz” and measured 243’ x 70’ for the attraction “Hip-Hip Hooray.”

Hippodrome, New York.
Ernest Albert’s design for “Hip-Hip-Hooray” at the Hippodrome.
Interior view of the Hippodrome, New York.

Albert was the founder and the first president of the Allied Artists of America (1914-1920). By 1916, he moved to New Canaan, Connecticut, where he began to focus on fine art. His stage design output began to gradually decline. In terms of fine art, Albert initially specialized in autumnal and winter scenes, later focusing on still life subjects. He held exhibitions across the country in New York City, San Francisco, Chicago, and Los Angeles. Albert’s fine art credentials are quite impressive. He belonged to New York’s Salmagundi Club, the Player’s Club, the Paint and Clay Club, the Silvermine Guild of Artists (New Rochelle), the Connecticut Academy of Fine Arts (Lyme, Conn.), the National Academy of Design, the American Watercolor Society, the National Arts Club, and the Grand Central Galleries. He also belonged to the Chicago Art Association and the Chicago Society of Fine Artists, where he served as President.

Winter Sunset by Ernest Albert, date unknown.
Watermill by Ernest Albert, 1936.
The Day’s End by Ernest Albert, date unknown.
Winding Winter Stream by Ernest Albert, 1935.

Albert’s first wife Annie passed away in 1925, but he found love again and married Lissa Bell Walker two years later. He died in New Canaan, Connecticut, at the home of his daughter and is buried in Lakeview Cemetery (New Canaan).

To be continued…