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…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 119 – Drapery Painting

Frank Atkinson described the painting techniques for shiny fabrics, noting that the configuration of the folds was of lesser importance to the reflective quality. He writes, “Thus satin, with its large, sufficiently remarkable folds, is distinguished still more by its singular brilliancy and the beauty of its reflection.”

Painted detail from Front Curtain in Grand Fork, North Dakota, Masonic Temple. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2013.

In other words, the brush strokes that denote the final highlights are of the utmost importance for reflective fabric. As previously discussed for dull materials, the shape of the fold and suggestion of texture was paramount. This was not necessarily the case with shiny fabric where the placement of the highlight becomes crucial. A good example of this technique is depicted in the front curtain for the Masonic Theater in Grand Forks, North Dakota.

Front curtain at the Masonic Center in Grand Forks, North Dakota. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2013.

The painted front curtain’s highlights are indicative of the specific fabric. Interestingly, the lightest color does not simply follow the fold but frequently crosses it, catching the light.

This light color may be placed as jagged lines, some even placed at an angle across the fold. It is the placement that creates visual interest and suggests the reflective characteristics of the material. Furthermore, the painting of gathered, or Austrian draperies, also use an interesting highlight at the seam. In some cases, the highlights are painted in loops that indicate the puckering along the gathered line.

Yankton, South Dakota, Scottish Rite Theater. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2014.

It is this particular application of highlight that allows the audience to immediately identify the fabric and understand its unique characteristics.

This now brings us to the patterns placed on either dull of shiny draperies. There is also process to create pattern on ornamental decoration on draperies. Many painted curtains with incredibly complex patterns do not necessarily alter the shape as they cross the deep recesses and peaks for each fold. Simple shapes need to follow the shape of the fabric whereas complex designs do not. For a standard stripe, the scenic artist will carefully follow the curvature of the material, reinforcing each rise and fall.

Painted detail from the Winona Masonic Theater scenery scene, King Solomon’s Throne Room. Photograph by Waszut-Barrett, 2010.

If the print is complex, one only needs to accentuate the highlight. For the painting of complex patterns of draperies, a stencil could be applied over the entire area of the fabric drape; it does not have to conform to the shape of each fold. Placing the appropriate highlights and shadows on the pattern allows the eye to successfully translate the overall appearance from a distance. It will appear as though the pattern is moving with each fold, even though it doesn’t. This is the same approach as with the broken lines that visually tie it all together.

The pattern is simply a stencil that does not alter for each fold. The highlights on the stencil suggest folds in the fabric. Painted detail from Grand Forks Masonic Temple. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2010.
Notice that the pattern does not pucker with the fabric at the seam, yet in reality it would. Painted detail from Grand Forks, North Dakota, Masonic Temple. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2014.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 118 – Drawing the Curtains

In 1916, Frank Atkinson wrote the book, “Scene Painting and Bulletin Art.” As part of a discussion on the painting of drapery, he wrote, “The imitation of different fabrics depends chiefly upon the character of the folds.” In other words, the drawing of each fold is crucial when suggesting a specific fabric for the painted composition. Additionally, the brush strokes would define whether the fabric is rough, smooth, dull, or brilliant. The painting technique would denote the material’s texture as “coarse or fine.”

The first consideration in drawing the curtain depicts the thickness and weight of the fabric as suggested by the drawing of curtains. So to make a thick and heavy curtain, the folds are sift and heavy. At the Fargo Scottish Rite, the treasure chamber setting included rugs and other velour curtains.

Fargo Scottish Rite treasure chamber. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2005.

Similarly at the Salina Scottish Rite, the scenic artists again added the soft and heavy folds characteristic of red velvet or velour.

Salina Scottish Rite treasure chamber. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2010.

The salmon curtains at the Yankton Scottish Rite differs in folds and technique, the curtains are thin and lightweight, possibly representative of silk; crisp folds with sharp peaks. The matte highlights are wide and solid, differing from the fine squiggly lines of sateen and other shiny materials that present an almost reflective quality.

Yankton Scottish Rite leg drop. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2014.

In addition to the drawing of folds and paint application is the color palette and which colors are applied as the initial base coat. For dark fabrics of rich jewel tones, there is deep base applied to the entire area. Van Dyke Brown, deep red, Prussian blue or malachite green. After applying a deep base, the mid-tone color designates the folds. Finally the highlight accentuates each rise, contrasting with the deep shadow. The division of the value attributes to the final depth of the folds. For a fabric that is somewhat lighter in color, the mid-tone is used as a base color and the application of the darkest color defines the folds. Finally, wide highlights accentuate the height of each fold.

There is a certain value where using a dark base transitions to a light base. Also, the amount of mid-tone placed on a dark base or a dark placed on a mid-tone base that defines the color of the drapery. By the time a curtain is intended as a cream color or lighter, the base is the lightest color. The mid-tone is applied second and the darkest third. Typically, these two shadows are placed after the light base and include both a warm and a cool wash, reinforcing the depth in the recess of each fold.

Curtain by Wendy Waszut-Barrett for Minnesota Centennial Showboat production, 2013.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 117 – Drapery Painting

There is an historical approach to painting drapery for any stage composition. A simple technique that allows an artist to create artfully draped fabric. Just like broken lines that suggest a hung tapestry, there is a standard and simple approach. For the next few installments I am going to examine a variety of scenic art techniques for painting drapery.

 
The first thing to understand about the historical approach is that you never blend any of the colors together. The reason is that the composition needs to be viewed from a distance and blending actually destroys the painted illusion of dimension. The rationale is similar to that for lining; the eye fills in the gaps and it appears to be more natural. The colors must remain divided for better visibility. This way, the draped fabric and artfully arranged folds read best from the audience.
 
Frequently, the fabric is painted using only three colors: dark, mid-tone, and light.
Painted detail from Fort Scott (Kansas) Scottish Rite treasure chamber backdrop. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.
The darkest color represents the crease in the fabric, or the folds. The mid-tone represents the actual color of the drapery. Finally, the highlight is placed within the mid-tone area and is never placed directly next to the darkest color, or shadow area. There is always at least a thin sliver between the highlight and shadow.
Treasure Chamber setting at Fort Scott, Kansas, before removal and transportation to the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center in 2015. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.
Fort Scott Treasure Chamber setting for 15th degree. Painted by Thomas Moses in 1924. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.
The treasure chamber setting used for the Scottish Rite’s fifteenth degree is a good example to examine this technique as the setting often depicts a variety of fabrics. Plush materials are incorporated into the leg drop, cut drop, and backdrop compositions for the scene, adding splashes of color to predominantly dark underground chambers. Colorful fabrics, rich with trim and tassels frame treasure chests, armor, statues, and other precious artifacts. The contents visually glitter, popping out from the shadows. The treasure scene at the Fort Scott Scottish Rite had a lovely variety of fabrics incorporated throughout the setting.
 
If you look at the painted details, three colors are the standard approach for the foreground painting of draperies. For the mid-stage and backstage compositions, only two colors are used to suggest the fabric folds.
Green fabric on backdrop is created with only two colors. Fort Scott Scottish Rite treasure scene. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.
This approach is similar to the painting of patterns, fringe, and other decorative details on the draped material; they often use two only colors. The lighter color is solely placed to reinforce the existing highlights on the folds. The darker color is placed in the recesses.
Painted detail from treasure chamber drop at Fort Scott Scottish Rite. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.
For example, if you examine the white fringe of the yellow canopy, there is simply a dark color for the base. This defines the overall shape of the trim. The highlight color gives the fabric and trim dimension. Again the composition was intended for viewing from a distance, so the division of color and contrast is crucial.
 
My training under the tutelage of Lance Brockman included the historical technique to paint patterned draperies. This was a standard project in his scene painting class, but it was not simply a skill that went into my tool kit as a scenic artist. The lessons learned form this project also became a significant resource as a designer. Specifically, it was necessary training in how objects need to be created in order to be viewed from a distance.
The magic of historical scenery is that the painting is breathtaking from a distance, but falls apart upon close inspection. As you walk closer to the composition, you see the stark division of colors and economical application of paint. It is the polar opposite of creating a mural for a residential wall, one that will be viewed up close.
 
To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 116 – Tapestry Painting

Preserving the past does not solely imply the handling and conservation of specific artifacts. Sometimes, it refers to the study and application of a historical technique. As artists we always observe composition, light, space, and the work of others. For me, there is a constant exploration of various techniques to expand and fine-tune my own skill set. I am always looking for examples to use in the future, tucking away my observations for possible use artistic endeavors. Then the time comes when I search my memory and recall a way to paint a current project. I page through my sources and locate an example to use as a resource or inspiration.

Recently, I was asked to paint two small tapestries for an opera set in Duluth, Minnesota. The scenic designer was a good friend of mine and it had been several years since we had an opportunity to work together. As soon as I saw the design and venue, I remembered the 27th degree for the Scottish Rite depicting a Gothic Interior with tapestries hanging on the wall. I also remembered an historical backdrop from the Chicago Lyric Opera collection that had been on display for USITT.

Tapestry technique for painting scenery. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Design by Ann Gumpper, painting by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017. Tapestry technique. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

I had observed this same unique scene painting technique for both commercial and fraternal designs, suggesting tapestries on the stage. It involved the painting of horizontal broken lines across the composition. From the audience, it made the painting appear as a tapestry. Typically, the lines were painted in van dyke, burnt umber, or a cool neutral and spaced ½” – 1” apart. The key was not to paint in a solid line, but use a broken line and allow the viewers eye to fill in the gaps.

Grand Forks, North Dakota Scottish Rite scenery. Sosman and Landis tapestry technique. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Grand Forks, North Dakota Scottish Rite scenery. Sosman and Landis tapestry technique. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

A similar technique used a dashes line. This also provided the impression of texture for the fabric. Once example of this particular dashed-line technique was the front curtain in Grand Forks, North Dakota. Personally, I felt that this particular technique did not read as well from a long distance since the paint application was too even.

Grand Forks, North Dakota Scottish Rite scenery. Sosman and Landis tapestry technique. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Dashed line technique. Grand Forks, North Dakota Scottish Rite scenery. Sosman and Landis tapestry technique. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Dashed-line technique. Grand Forks, North Dakota Scottish Rite scenery. Sosman and Landis tapestry technique. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

As a side note, broken lines always read as more natural and less graphic. However, there is a balance in the actual paint application. You have to consider how far the break needs to be or how solid to paint the line. Solid lines that are too solid and long, even for grouting in brick walls, look odd and formulaic.

The Tapestry technique also included the creation of swags in the fabric. In these situations, shadows and highlights were painted into the tapestry to suggest slightly bunched up areas. This meant that the horizontal lines would be painted with a slight curve over each bump – a very effective illusion.

Highlights and shadows in tapestry painting for the stage. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.
Tapestry painting with highlights and shadows effect. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

Eventually, a dry-brush technique replaced that of individual lines to suggest tapestry.

Dry brush technique by Volland Studio. St. Louis Scottish Rite, Missouri. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Dry brush technique by Volland Studio. St. Louis Scottish Rite, Missouri. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Dry brush technique by Volland Studio. St. Louis Scottish Rite, Missouri. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

My research suggests that this practice was started around the 1920s. It would make sense, as this was the same time that a lot of the studio practices shifted under the guidance of new leadership as many studio techniques were streamlined. Another example if how netting was attached to cut drops. Before the 1920s, netting was attached with individual dots of glue on each knotted intersection. Late, those that glued netting to the backs of cut drops and leg drops used huge swaths of glue along the edge. Many of the changing techniques were the result of decreasing labor and saving time to complete a drop. Therefore, dry brushing was a quick way to get a similar tapestry effect.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 107 – The Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral

One subdivision of the Moline Scottish Rite collection was very distinct and possibly the work of a single artist. It was identifiable due to its unique style and predominance of overtly bright colors.

Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral scene. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Painted detail from Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral scene. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Painted detail from Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral scene. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

There were several scenes that stood apart from the remainder of the Moline collection, especially those that were refurbished for the new stage. The colorful 1930s additions included the Road to Jerusalem, the Cave, the 13th degree Ruins, a Mountain backdrop, the 16th degree Ruins, the Crucifixion, the Ascension, a City in Chaos, and the Cedars of Lebanon. As previously discussed, the abundance of primary colors could have been the result of the aesthetic shift that occurred on stage in the field of scenic art during the 1920s and into the 1930s. But these drops were all just a bit too bright and the style a bit too loose. As I evaluated the scenes, something seemed “off” and was not consistent with other Becker drops that I had encountered over the years. I wondered if this was a temporary hire at the studio in 1930.

Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral scene, 1930. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Detail from 1930 Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral Cave scene for 9th degree. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

This particular scenic artist’s technique and lining were very rough in appearance. Although the composition read fairly well from the house, the paint application remained extremely unrefined. The pictorial illusion was also slightly shattered due the flat appearance of each shape and oddly colored spatter. I wondered if this was the work of an apprentice or young artist at Becker’s studio if not the work of a temporary employee during a busy time.
As with the other scenes painted in 1930 there was a lot of glazing used to build up each shape. I understand that glazing is the preferred method in some studios and could also be tracked back to a specific regional tendency. However, this was something that I had not encountered with Becker scenery before.

Again, there was an excessive amount of spatter throughout each composition. But the coloration of the spatter made no sense at all. Often warm is spattered on cool areas of the composition. This helps with the scene read well under a variety of lighting effects. Similarly, cool colors are spattered on the warm areas. This helps the painting “glow” regardless of the lighting design. In Moline, there were just oddly colored paints spattered on top of random areas. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason.

Burnt Sienna spatter on warm background. Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral paint detail. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017

Again, this could be suggestive of the work by a young artist. The artist could know that spatter was part of the current painting process, but not understand what color was appropriate for each scene or area of the drop. I thought back to the third generation of Cincinnati scenery produced by Bob Moody. He recalled his lack of experience and struggle, being told to “just paint the drops” at Volland Studio. He spattered everything – again without any formulaic application.

The thin paint of these select scenes at the Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral also intrigued me. I have encountered examples where the paint is so thin that the entire drop could have been a transparency. I have also evaluated dye drops at Scottish Rite theaters. For commercial touring shows, the extremely thin application of paint, or use of dye, made sense to me. If the drops were constantly shifted or transported to a new venue, the painted compositions would hold up over time. For example, in Madison, Wisconsin, there are more Scottish Rite drops than lines to hang them from. Almost all of their drops are dye drops and the majority are kept off stage in a nearby storage room. Now kept in plastic tubs, each drop is easily accessible to immediately hang for a degree.

Madison, Wisconsin Scottish Rite backdrop created with dye. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.
Stage crew that helped during the scenery evaluation at the Madison, Wisconsin Scottish Rite. Hell scene created with dye and folded for storage. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.

I recalled Jesse Cox’s drops on display at the theater museum in Mount Pleasant, Iowa too. His diamond dye process came to mind for tent shows. I even double-checked the Moline drops to verify that it was dry pigment and not dye. Sure enough, the colors were beginning to dust and I could see a thin layer of paint sitting on the surface. Not dye, just thin dry pigment.

The last thing that fascinated me was the predominance of warm pinks and reds throughout the composition of each scene. I wondered if this was the result of poisonous or fugitive colors. These terms mean that the appearance of some colors have altered over time or affected the appearance of neighboring colors. For example, the blue coloration in a purple paint can disappear over time– leaving only a faded bright pink or red area. An easy way to understand this shift is to think of old letters on parchment. A shift in the coloration of ink can occur over time. The original black ink can shift to a faded blue, purple or brown. This also happens with many children’s markers. I have watched black marker drawings turn to red in just a few years. Certain aspects of each color simply disappear over time as they are exposed to various forms of light.

It is possible that this appearance of each Moline drop remained unaltered. However, everything seemed slightly “off” for these few Scottish Rite scenes. So whether it was a young artist’s inexperience or faded coloration of pigments, some of the Moline scenes were stylistically unlike anything that I had ever encountered before. This was just one more mystery that may remain unsolved.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 104 – The Moline Scottish Rite and Metallic Gold Paint

There is something magical about the glitter of gold on a flat surface. Metallic gold will shift from a deep unreflective bronze in the shadows to a brilliant sparkling gold in the light. Looking at a gold highlight from different angles makes the overall surface come to life. It adds a little magic, or life, into the painted scene. The use of metallic glazing on theatre scenery, however, is not as effective as one has to be very select in the placement. The application must be sparse and effectively lit for the areas of the scene to glisten. The painting or the audience needs to also move for it to become visible. Imagine the hell scene and the metallic paper strips previously discussed. They only work very well if the backdrop slightly moves.

As a side note, one needs to understand the difference between a flat color and metallic color. Over the years I have repeatedly explained the difference between the opaque color gold and the metallic color gold. An example is my suggestion to use of gold metallic paint for the stars on the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center Lodge room ceiling. Early discussions included my painting metallic accents on each gold colored star. These samples were used to explain that gold metallic will reflect and move, the flat opaque color gold would not. Metallic stars on curved ceilings give the room movement– especially during Masonic ceremonials. In low lighting situations, the painted metallic stars would twinkle without the need for LED or other lights placed within each star. Unfortunately, the celestial skies ended up including white stars as the CEO could not comprehend the reflective quality and movement of a metallic paint.

Seldom have I encountered a lot of metallic glazing in Scottish Rite scenery. Typical metallic additions include metallic paper strips that are glued onto the painted surface to simulate the fiery blazes of hell or the rays from heaven. Most metallic paint appears after the 1920s. Here is my theory: prior to that time the scenic artist successfully painted golden treasure with flat colors, allowing sections of the composition to sparkle without the use of any metallic paint. During the 1920s, some of the scenic artists create compositions that were less dimensional – more flat. This means that the painted perspective was less effective. It is possible that the application of metallic paint was an attempt by 1920s scenic artists (and those generations after) to reintroduce life and dimension into a relatively flat painting.

There are two scenes in the Moline scenery collection that have an abundance of metallic glazing, almost too much to make it effective. In each scene, the composition takes on the 1920s characteristic of a foreground that appears much larger than life. These two scenes are reminiscent of the previously discussed tree trunks in St. Louis and the ruins in Fort Scott. In Moline, we again see massive columns in the foreground of each scene. There is an excessive amount of metallic glazing applied throughout the composition, from foreground to background. The excessive use destroys some of the painted perspective and illusory effect.

Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral, 1930. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral,1930. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Note the large scale of the column bases compared to the standing individual. Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral, 1930. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

This application of gold paint is very visual within a few feet. The effect would have worked well up close upon initial inspection by a client. I have to wonder if that was the primary purpose – to impress representatives from the Valley of Moline. It really doesn’t read well from the auditorium as there is too much metallic painting within an overly complex composition. Metallic stars in the ceiling of lodges are sparse in deep blue settings. That is something entirely different – and effective. The metallic stars visually “pop” from the deep blue. In Moline, the metallic accents occur on lighter backgrounds and therefore compete with the surrounding composition, reading simply as dark gold.

Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral, 1930. Gold accent on column. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.
Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral, 1930. Gold accent on column. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.
Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral, 1930. Gold accent on Egyptian column. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Note that entire wall uses metallic gold, yet primarily remains invisible from the audience. Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral, 1930. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

This is why metallic foil paper works better than metallic paint in the dark areas of the hell scene. The dimensionality of the metallic strips – the crinkles – selectively placed along the edges of figures or rocky outcrops add a little magic. The crinkles of the metallic paper allow the highlight to appear “natural.” It is similar to painting a broken line instead of a solid line in any composition. The broken line is more effective as the viewer’s eye fills in the line and it appears more natural. Furthermore, there needs to be a deep color from where the gold glistens – catching the light in a darkened chamber.

Metallic paper strips glued onto hell scenes. The placement is often in dark areas. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.

I have also encountered backdrops where Masonic stagehands added a metallic sparkle decades after the fact. This was the case with the Fort Scott scenery. Some well-meaning individual decided to add metallic puff paint to Jacque DeMolay’s tomb. The dimension of the puff paint actually worked quite well, like the metallic paper strips due to the dimensional quality. When I first encountered the painted tomb during November 2015, I laughed out loud. Puff paint to spruce up a Knight Templar Tomb? But the dimensional paint was against a dark surface and selectively placed.

I have also come across sequins, metallic wrapping paper, and other shiny objects glued onto backdrops, especially on metal vessels in treasure scenes. If not lit properly, the painted golden vessels on a treasure chamber backdrop will appear flat. This causes stagehands to glue on shiny items to catch the light and allow the artifacts to glitter. Good idea? It’s debatable, but often hard to detect. Most of the lights need to be turned off, darkening the entire painted composition and allowing the metal objects to appear.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 103 – The Importance of Anatomical Studies in Scenic Art

Over the years, I have encountered painted compositions that just made me giggle and occasionally laugh out loud due to the poor quality. The captions could read: “Good enough for who its for,” “Just get it out the door,” or “Done is good.” There are obvious compositions that were painted in a rush without much consideration to the quality. Maybe the drop was for an irksome client, one who never paid his bills. Every collection tells a story through the application of paint and individual brush strokes. During long hours, I find myself creating background stories for every painted composition. This humors me and helps me get through each evaluation or restoration project.

The subject that has brought me the most humor over the years is figure painting and anatomical anomalies. These are never intentional and often a direct result of inexperience or lack of training at any art academy by the artist. The most common occurrence of oddly shaped figures appears on the small drops painted for the 17th degree Vision scene (Scottish Rite). The Winona collection that always comes to mind with a woman holding the scales of justice. Her breasts are too high, her hand is too big, and her hair defies gravity. Moline has the equivalent to this poorly drawn figure. There, three figures are painted as décor on a city wall.

Winona Masonic theater, Scottish Rite Vision Scene for the 17th degree. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2010.

I believe that the composition was incorrectly drawn; the practical opening in the center had been created too small. When is was time to cut that practical opening someone notice that it would be too short for anyone to enter or exit. Unfortunately the figure above the opening had already been painted. The solution was to cut off the feet and repaint them at kneecap level.

Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral. Gate scene, 15th degree. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Cut opening in City Gate scene. Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral, 1930. Note overall proportion of figure and length of legs. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

You can still see the redrawing on the stage right figure too. This drawing was also altered – but before final painting.

Notice the size of the head in relation to the body. Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Charcoal drawing showing original placement of feet. Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral, 1930. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

Now I might make fun of the poorly drawn figures on historic backdrops, but I do so with a deep and personal understanding of the necessary skill required to successfully paint people. I can draw figures, sometimes even well. Other times I question my artistic ability. Usually, I chalk this up to “artistic angst” and part of the entire painting process: questioning one’s own ability and talent. I always plod along after recognizing this as a step that I always encounter in every design or painting. It is the opposite of the “Ah Ha” moment, but valuable nonetheless.

To be continued…

General Hints on Scenic Colors – Shadows

“For shadow, use Van Dyke brown with brown ochre; this can be warmed with burnt sienna, which will also raise the value a trifle. Mix a purple [shadow] from ultramarine blue, rose lake, and a trifle white.”

The above text written by Frank Atkinson in his “Scene Painting and Bulletin Art” (1916, page 165). It provides a recipe for two shadow glazes – both a warm shadow and a cool shadow. The mixture of browns and sienna was intended to be a warm glaze for many cast shadows, but not all. Often a cool cast shadow was desired in the composition. A cool purple glaze was created from ultramarine, rose lake, and a little white. Note that purple dry pigment is not used in the purple shadow glaze!

On the following page, Atkinson warns against the use purple on stage, writing:

Caution: – All purple, regardless of value, are prone to appear too red under artificial light, and to counteract this tendency, the quality of all purples should be rather too cool when viewed in daylight.”

I found this fascinating for two reasons. The first being that there is the acknowledgement that a paint color will shift under light and become something that the artist never intended for the composition – destroying the painted illusion. Secondly, he directs the painters to mix a cooler version of what they see under natural light in the studio. It is important to remember that the early twentieth scenic studios primarily used huge windows and skylights to light the space. So the majority of drop painting was occurring in natural light conditions and not artificial light conditions.

Below are some painted details from my scenery collection (Peoria Scottish Rite, ca 1902 and enlarged for the Scottish Rite Cathedral in 1920s).  They provide examples for both warm and cool shadows:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

General Hints on Scenic Colors – Reflected Lights

“The reflected lights in the shadows will require orange, with a trifle of pale English Vermillion and Dutch Pink with a little burnt sienna.”

From Frank Atkinson’s “Scene Painting and Bulletin Art” (1916, page 165)

Below are some examples of an orange reflected light:

Santa Fe Scottish Rite treasury detail (1912)

Statue from Treasure Scene at St. Paul Scottish Rite (1911)

Winona Scottish Rite treasure chamber detail (1909)

Another Winona Scottish Rite treasure scene detail (1909)

Pasadena Scottish Rite Egyptian scene column detail (1904)

And for theatre context: an 18th Century scenic art example on historic flat stored in Swedish Royal Opera workshops.