Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 488 – The King Solomon Story

As I started to explore the Ringling Brothers’ grand spectacle, “King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba,” I could not help but think of the many stage settings for the Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry. The designs include a variety of images from King Solomon’s Temple, the Sanctum Sanctorum, palatial apartments and the throne room. The story of the construction of King Solomon’s Temple was a subject dramatically acted in both Blue Lodge rooms and in Scottish Rite stages as part of their degree work. It was also a rich and popular subject for a variety of nineteenth-century entertainment venues.

The construction of the Temple and the assassination of its chief architect Hiram, remain a prominent topic in Masonic degree work, especially as a morality play. This story acted in lodge rooms was expanded upon and theatrically staged for Scottish Rite degree work. Never exclusive to the Fraternity, the reign of King Solomon was a popular subject for a variety of visual spectacles throughout the nineteenth century.

Poster for the Ringing Brothers’ 1914 Grand Spectacle “King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba”
1901 Masonic setting for King Solomon’s Throne Room at the Scottish Rite in McAlester, Oklahoma.
Detail of setting by Sosman & Landis produced for the Scottish Rite in Little Rock at the turn of the twentieth century.

In past posts, I have covered the subject of King Solomon on both public and private stages, including two 1840s touring show that featured “Chemical Paintings,” also known as “Magic Pictures.” These small painted backdrops transitioned from day to night as the composition was alternatively lit from both the front and back (see past installment #320). Newspapers from the time reported, “by modifying the light upon the picture, exhibits two entirely distinct representations upon the same canvas” (The Times-Picayune, 20 Dec. 1842, page 3). The Inauguration of Solomon’s Temple was one of four scenes that toured with the show. For a more thorough understanding of the 1842 exhibition, here is the description of “The Inauguration of Solomon’s Temple” as published in “The Times-Picayune:” “This painting represents the magnificent Temple of Solomon, son of David, which he caused to be erected in Jerusalem. Seen in the daytime, it exhibits to the spectacular the richness and elegance of its exterior architecture. The same Painting soon after passes through all the modifications of light: then night comes on, (effects obtained by the decomposition of light, a new process of painting invented by Daguerre,) the Temple appears illuminated interiorly by degrees, reflecting a bright light exteriorly, which discovers a great multitude of people flocking to adore the Ark of the Covenant, which the High Priest has deposited in the Tabernacle” (New Orleans, December 29, 1842, page 3).

1842 advertisement for the visual spectacle called “chemical paintings” of the “Inauguration of Solomon’s Temple”
King Solomon’s Temple scene at the Scottish Rite in Cheyenne, Wyoming
Detail of painted setting for the Scottish Rite in Cheyenne, Wyoming

Now to understand the popularity and appeal of the subject to Freemasons, I want to contrast these two events. The 1842 scenic effects, exhibited at the end of a darkened room suggested the possibilities for dramatic effects during degree work. As a Mason who attended the 1842 exhibit, I might leave full of ideas that could make the degree work in my small lodge room better. In contrast, the Ringling Brothers’ spectacle of “King Solomon” was produced at a scale that the Fraternity could never achieve. By 1914, dozens of Blue Lodge and Scottish Rite stages were using painted scenes that depicted King Solomon’s Temple, palatial quarters and the nearby landscape. They all paled in comparison with the grand spectacle at the circus, yet the same scenic artists were painting the sets for each venue.

Tomorrow, I will and taking the day off and will examine the Masonic history of the Ringlings on Wednesday.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 355 – California Here I Come!

Part 355: California Here I Come!

Thomas G. Moses started preliminary negotiations for the resale of the Little Rock scenery to the Pasadena, California, in 1921. Moses would later join the Fraternity and become a member of the Pasadena Scottish Rite. I want to take a moment to explore why he possibly spent so much time trying to relocate the old Little Rock scenery to Pasadena. Furthermore, why would he join the Scottish Rite in Pasadena and not Chicago, especially when he was dividing his time between Chicago and Oakland? I believe that he preferred the degree work of the Southern Jurisdiction; the designs were more familiar to him. In 1926, Moses wrote, “I feel that we are a trifle shy on the proper designs for the northern jurisdiction, which are somewhat different from our southern, of which we have done by far the most.”

Moses also had an artistic connection and an emotional attachment to the 1896 Little Rock scenery collection. As a member of Pasadena, he would continue to see not only some of his best work, but also that of his good friend and mentor, David Austin Strong, another Sosman & Landis artists who Moses credited as the “Daddy of Masonic Design.” I think it was much more than making a dollar on a used scenery collection, or even trying to offload some old product. I believe that Moses carefully considered which Scottish Rite that he would join, and what painted scenery he would want to see during degree work. He also donated fine art to the Pasadena Scottish Rite when he became a member.

So, the original Little Rock scenery still hangs above the Pasadena stage and is used. Although it has been repeatedly tampered with over the years, and added to by other studios, the remnants of late-nineteenth century art are visible, as well as the individual paintings of Moses and Strong.

Today’s scenery at Pasadena, Yankton, Salina, and Austin all share one thing in common; they are some of the earliest installations in the Southern Jurisdiction and all have backdrops painted by Strong. His work is some of the most beautiful scenic art that I have ever encountered and he was credited as being the last American scenic artist to represent the Dusseldorf school. Walter Burridge affectionately referred to Strong as “Old Trusty.” Fellow scenic artists heralded Strong’s skill, his “facile brush,” and his “quality of opaqueness” (Chicago Tribune, Dec. 18, 1892).

An example of what I believe to be David Austin Strong’s work. This is a detail from a Little Rock drop currently hanging in Pasadena.
An example of what I believe to be David Austin Strong’s work. This is a detail from a Little Rock drop currently hanging in Pasadena.

I am currently in Pasadena Scottish Rite to repair the crucifixion backdrop at the Scottish Rite; it ripped in half and plummeted to the stage. A few years back, I completed a similar repair in Grand Forks when their Hell scene split in two. The Pasadena version, however, is almost beyond repair as there is other extensive damage throughout the composition. My flight arrived quite early this morning, after a series of delays, so the day is starting out a little slow.

Luckily for me, there will be some “dry time” while I am on site completing the repair. I intend to look for more clues indicative of the studio practices at Sosman & Landis from the late-nineteenth- through early-twentieth century. If anything, I have promised Rick Boychuk some detailed rigging pictures as I believe that the system may be from the 1902 Albert Pike Consistory in Little Rock.

To be continued…

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 142 – Disaster Spectacles at Coney Island – The Jamestown Flood

The January 6, 1911 issue of the Brooklyn Eagle that noted the destruction of “Old Harley Merry’s Studio included destroyed contents included the completed scenery for “The Real Girl,” “Class,” the original models for “The Johnstown Flood,” “The Eruption of Mount Pelee,” “The Deluge” and twenty-two other similar productions.” I realized that these were well known attractions at Coney Island!

“The Jamestown Flood” attraction at Coney Island.

Visual spectacles thrilled early twentieth century crowds, allowing visitors an escape from their everyday lives. In addition to the standard amusement park attractions with exotic animals, freak shows, and carnival games were disaster attractions. Visitors would pay to witness emulations of the death and destruction caused by the Jamestown flood, the volcanic eruption of Mount Pelee, the San Francisco earthquake, the Galveston flood, the Fall of Pompeii, the naval battle of the Russo-Japanese War, the Boer War, the Fall of Adrianople, the War of the Worlds, the Battle of Merrimac. There were others that didn’t depict a specific event, but just capitalized on horrific situations titled “Fire and Flames,” “Fighting the Flames,” “Hell Gate,”” End of the World,” and others. These amusements put viewers in a front row seat to relive the death and destruction with vivid dioramas and elaborate technical productions.

“The Galveston Flood” attraction at Coney Island.
A postcard depicting a scene from “The Galveston Flood” attraction at Coney Island.

The Johnstown Flood show (1902-1905) was an attraction at Luna Park on Coney Island. It had initially made its success at the Pan-American Exposition in 1901, along with “Trip to the Moon.” Both attractions were transported to Coney Island.

The building from “The Johnstown Flood” attraction at the 1901 World Fair.
A poster from “The Johnstown Flood” attraction for the 1901 World Fair.

On May 31, 1889, a dam near Jamestown, Pennsylvania collapsed and flooded the valley with twenty million tons of water. There was virtually no escape as everything was destroyed in its path and 2,209 people lost their lives. An article from “Snap Shots on the Midway” advertised the Johnstown Flood attraction as “a scenograph, the logical evolution of the cyclorama, the diorama and the scenic theater, accomplishes the illusion, which is set on an ordinary stage and is in reality a performance in pantomime, where all the actors are what would be called in stage parlance, “properties.”

The Johnstown Flood show began with Memorial Day activities, a mere twenty-four hours before the disaster with an army processional crossing a little bridge in the bustling town. As day progressed and lights gradually appeared in residential windows as the stage darkened to dusk. Trains move across the line of vision as the moon gently ascended from the horizon. Night waned and sunrise broke forth on the morning of the disaster. As the hours passed, the wooden foundation of the dam wss undermined by the trickling of the waters from the rivulets feeding the lake of South Fork (fourteen miles away). An avalanche of water was launched down the Conemaugh valley, sweeping away five thousand inhabitants of Johnstown. The article continued, “An electric storm is made to burst in the stage picture before the arrival of the deluge, when the afternoon of May 31st, 1889, was innocent of water from the skies, but under cover of the darkness and in fitful gleam of vivid lightening the spectacular effect is heightened and is convincing. The cry of the talker: “‘The dam is burst!’ his relation of the wild ride of Johnny Baker, a ride between flood and a horse, between life and death, the loss of the horse and the death of the noble boy, comes with startling effect.

Memorabilia from “The Jamestown Flood” attraction at Coney Island.
Memorabilia from “The Jamestown Flood” attraction at Coney Island.

Fire then breaks out in the debris about the stone bridge. Hundreds of dead and other hundreds of living are imprisoned there. They are burned to a crisp. The Catholic Church, the field hospital, also breaks into flames. The rescued perish there. Then the fire dies away and the scene darkens. The turn of a hand measures the time of the change coming with the light which shows Johnstown as it is today, rebuilt and flourishing.”

The Buffalo Times (May 4, 1901) issue published that the Johnstown Flood “scenograph” for the World’s Fair was created by the artist E. J. Austen. Austen was noted “the foremost cycloramic artist of the world” and assisted by a large staff of noted artists, chief among who were Charles A. Corwin, Frank C. Pepraud and Herbert V. Brown. In producing the marvelous mechanical effects, E. S. Shea of New York had a prominent part, being the “originator of many devices now being used in the prominent theaters of this and other countries.” Herbert A. Bradwell, the electrician also stood out at the head of his profession producing novel effects, many that had never been seen before. Bradwell, advertised as a specialist in illusions and a constructor of electric and scenic shows, was located at 28 Lexington Avenue, New York.

In 1906, “The Deluge” replaced the Johnstown flood in the same building. This attraction enacted the story of Noah and the flooding of the entire world. During the final 1908 season, changes were made to the finale include an earthquake and fire in addition to the flood.

“The Deluge” attraction at Coney Island.
Second scene from “The Deluge” attraction at Coney Island.
Fourth scene from “The Deluge” attraction at Coney Island.

To be continued…

Andrew Geis Source Book – Russell Patterson Image

I encountered an image by Russell Patterson in Andrew Geis’ Source Book. Compelled by the image, I decided to see who this artist was and when he worked. He is one fascinating guy! A contemporary of Geis’ and possible colleague in Chicago. They certainly travelled in the same circles!

       

I have included an image of the actual location that he was illustrating (Garnier Opera in Paris) – luckily, I took a similar photo in Paris last summer! Almost like I knew that I would need it…

Russell Patterson (1893-1977) was an American cartoonist, illustrator, costume designer, prop builder, scenic designer, and many other things!

Born in Omaha, Nebraska and raised in Montreal, Patterson moved to Chicago during WWI to become a catalogue illustrator. Early work includes department store designs for Carson Pirie Scott & Company and Marshal Field. Side note: Many free lance scenic artists and studios sought these same store designs as part of their business. Patterson also attended the Art Institute of Chicago – as did most scenic artists at the time. His path would have constantly crossed a variety of scenic artists in Chicago! Another business venture that he was engaged in from 1922-1925 was a mail order art instruction course!

His art deco magazine illustrations helped promote the 1920s “flapper” image – known as the Patterson Girl. Similar to the Gibson Girl, his work really defined the 1920s and 30s fun-loving female in fabulous attire.

In 1925, he moved to New York and worked as an illustrator and designer for the theatre – both costumes and sets. On Broadway, Patterson’s productions included The Gang’s All Here” (Costume Design, 1931), “Ballyhoo of 1932” (Costume designer, director, and scenic designer); “Hold Your Horses” (Costume designer, 1933); “Fools Rush In” (Scenic designer, 1934); “Ziegfield Follies of 1934” (Costume designer); “The Illustrator’s Show” (Curtain design, 1936)“and “George White’s Scandals” (Scenic Design, 1936). For more information about these shows, go to the Broadway Database at https://www.ibdb.com/

From the 1920s through 1950s, Patterson continued to draw for a variety of publications, including Sunday newspaper magazine covers and comic strips. “Mamie,” a Sunday page for United Features Syndicate was one such example. Art historians note that he was one of the key artists who brought the “dumb blond” back into vogue in comic strips with her small waist and long legs (Really?!?! I have to wonder when this character was ever absent from our culture or printed history…). Patterson later became the President of the National Cartoonist Society.

His sporadic visits to Hollywood during the 1930s, involved him in a variety of interesting projects, including the creation of life-like dolls that he called, “Personettes.” These props appeared in the film “Artists and Models,” starring Jack Benny. He also designed Shirley Temple’s wardrobe “Baby, Take a Bow” in 1934 and a whole host of other projects for film.

Frequently traveling from one end of the country to the other, Patterson even judged the Miss America Swimsuit Competition in Atlantic City in 1933 with Gladys Glad (Ziegfield Follies Girl)?!?! He obviously enjoyed the female form…

For more information on Patterson, see “Top Hats and Flappers: The Art of Russell Patterson,” (Fantagraphics, 2006).

I am so glad that I followed my curiosity to see who was behind the signature!

Andrew Geis Source Book – Color Illustrations, part 1

I have returned to Andrew Geis’ designer book. Over the course of their careers, artists carefully clipped and pasted images from magazines and art journals – placing them in binders for future reference and inspiration.
 
Attached is a page from his book with and image that called to Geis at some point.
 
It called to me too this morning.