Part 370: The Machinery of the Grand Opera, 1897 (third section)
Here is the last of three posts concerning “The Machinery of the Grand Opera” by E. F. Keller:
Scenic artists at work on a paint bridge at the Metropolitan Opera in New York during 1897.
“This work, in any one of the heavy operas produced at the Metropolitan, requires the services of thirty-six stage hands. The entire force of men who work behind the scenes, out of sight of the audience, including property men and electricians and gas men, brings the number up to sixty persons. There are eight rows of border lights – namely, the lights across the stage behind the proscenium arch – and all of these, together with the remaining lights in the entire house, are worked from a single switchboard at the side of the stage.
The switchboard at the Metropolitan Opera in New York, 1897. Published in “Metropolitan Magazine.”
Of “drops” – which are the pieces of canvas upon which the scenes are painted – there are over three hundred in use in this establishment. Of set pieces, such as wings, rocks, pillars, outlined trees, and other examples of profile work, there are probably more than one thousand. When the scenic artists and carpenters began to make these pieces they were numbered and indexed systematically. But after the total reached six hundred or more the numbering process was abandoned, so that there is no definite knowledge at present on that score.
Photograph of the carpenter’s shop at the Metropolitan Opera in New York, from “The Machinery of the Grand Opera” by E. F. Keller, published in Metropolitan Magazine, 1897.Photograph accompanying “The Machinery of the Grand Opera” by E. F. Keller, published in Metropolitan Magazine, 1897.
The regular day force of carpenters employed as the Opera House numbers fifteen men, whose work consists of building new scenes and repairing old ones. In case there is a big production on hand, requiring entirely new scenery, this force of men is materially enlarged and often doubled.
Another exceedingly vital department is that which involves the manipulation of the light effects. This does not merely require a knowledge o the part of the operator as to whether the illumination in the auditorium or on the stage is at a proper height, but it also demands an intimate knowledge of the shades and colorings necessary to the production of atmospheric effects.”
Tomorrow we will continues with the life and times of Thomas Moses as he makes the decision to accept work in New York.
Part 369: The Machinery of the Grand Opera, 1897 (second section)
Here is the second of three posts of “The Machinery of the Grand Opera” by E. F. Keller:
“On the afternoon that all this interior working of the Metropolitan Opera House was being inspected by the writer, a rehearsal of “Carmen” was being held. One of the bridges was in use in the last act of the opera. It was lifted to a height of perhaps twelve or fourteen inches above the stage level, and eight or ten horses at a time were ridden over it at a gallop without producing so much as a tremor.
The bridges are used not alone for such purposes as the one described, but also in producing mountainous and rocky scenes. Any section of any one of the bridges can be lifted separately and held in position by steel pins; to the front of these elevations are attached painted pieces representing rocks, trees, etc., and their perfect security is a very important item, as the artists need have no other fear of falling platforms or other dangers commonly associated with built scenes.
Those who are familiar with the machinery of the stage have seen, either in actual use or in published illustrations, what are termed stage braces.
Stage braces, stored in a corner at the Scottish Rite in Moline, Illinois. Photograph from March 2017.Detail of stage braces, stored in a corner at the Scottish Rite in Moline, Illinois. Photograph from March 2017.Detail of stage braces, stored in a corner at the Scottish Rite in Moline, Illinois. Photograph from March 2017.Image of a stage screw from 1894-1895 Sosman & Landis catalogue.
These are long, sectional pieces of wood, with a sort of hook at one end and a piece of steel at the other, placed at such an angle that when the brace stands upright the steel lies flat upon the floor, where it may be fastened in place with a screw. These braces are erected behind the scenery to hold it in place and keep it from toppling over; as there is quite an angle from the point where they are screwed to the stage at the bottom, they take up a great deal of room and are constantly being tripped over by people who are wandering about or crossing the stage in the semi-darkness.
At the Metropolitan there are a number of upright posts, rigged with counter weights, that may be pulled up through the stage to any desirable height. To these the scenery is attached, with the advantage of saving space and also of making the scenery as firm and solid as the side of a house. This is a comparatively new contrivance that has been brought to its present state of perfection by C. D. McGiehan, the master mechanic and carpenter of the establishment. It was, indeed, Mr. McGiehan who built this stage, and who is quite naturally proud of it as the most perfectly constructed and appointed institution of its kind in the world.
One hundred and eighty sets of lines are used in hoisting and lowering the scenery of the Metropolitan Opera House.
Photograph of 180 sets of lines at the Metropolitan Opera in 1897, from “The Machinery of the Grand Opera” by E. F. Keller, 1897.
The making of these lines involved the use of one hundred and ninety coils of rope, each coil being about twelve hundred feet in length. Several truck-loads of these coils were brought to the stage door at the time the work of fashioning the lines was begun. On some of the modern stages of the country – as for instance, the Lafayette Square Opera House in Washington – the scenery is all operated from the stage by a series of counterweight cables so nicely adjusted that a whole scene may be lifted out of sight by one man. In building the stage of the Metropolitan Mr. McGiehan preferred a different system, and while the scenes are counterweighted so that they may be easily handled, the work is done entirely from the fly galleries. The wings and set pieces are handled by men on the stage itself.”
Part 368: The Machinery of the Grand Opera, 1897 (first section)
A few months back, I stumbled across an 1897 article, “The Machinery of the Grand Opera” by E. F. Keller. It provides a little more context for life and times of Thomas G. Moses during 1897-1898. This article is also is a good follow-up to “How Scenery is Made,” as Jos. A. Physioc worked at the Metropolitan Opera during the beginning of his career. This is the first of three posts:
A photograph from “The Machinery of the Grand Opera” by E. F. Keller, 1897.
“The great throngs of diamond-bedecked women and dress-coated men who gather from night to night in the enormous auditorium of the Metropolitan Opera House have little realization of the machinery, by which the magnificent stage pictures which pass like a living panorama, full of light and color, before their eyes, are produced. They see perfect groupings, great ensembles, perfect processions, and constant changes of scenery and lights, but it is not possible for them to comprehend the enormous amount of attention to detail and knowledge of the handling of masses of people and quantities of stage paraphernalia required for the bringing forward of these results.
A photograph from “The Machinery of the Grand Opera” by E. F. Keller, 1897.
The Metropolitan Opera House stage is one of the greatest in the world, and is certainly the most modern, in all its parts, of any of the big structures of its kind in Europe. When the building was partly destroyed by fire several years ago, it became necessary, among other things, to erect an entirely new stage, and this was done upon all the latest lines of invention.
The area occupied by the stage is one hundred and one feet in width and eighty-seven feet deep. The proscenium arch, which is fifty-five feet square, really gives but little indication of the great amount of space at the disposal of the scene shifters, carpenters, mechanics, electricians, scene painters, and property men who form the portion of the equipment of the establishment never appearing in sight of the audience.
In addition to the room at both sides of the visible stage, there is a great deal of space above and below which is constantly utilized. It is ninety feet from the level of the stage to the rigging loft – which is sometimes called the gridiron in the language of the theatre. There is the clear limit to which scenes may be hoisted without interference when they are pulled above the line of sight of the occupants of the audience room. Below the stage surface there is clear depth of twenty-eight feet to the base of the sub-cellar. By this double arrangement, above and below, sets of scenery and other articles may be either lifted up or lowered down, as the exigencies of the case may require.
Surrounding the stage, at the height of thirty-six feet, is the first fly gallery, upon which the men who handle the scenery are stationed. In the Metropolitan there are two other fly galleries above this one. Here the ropes are coiled or fastened, as may be necessary, and a great many of the changes of scenery are carried out.
The half of the stage nearest the audience is made in sections – some times called traps – that are easily removed for the production of scenic effects. The rear half of the stage is built in bridges, eight or ten feet broad, and crossing the entire width. These are supported by steel trusses readily hoisted by counter-weights to any desired height up to twenty-three feet above the floor level.
They are a great improvement over the old system, partly on account of the readiness with which they are lifted and fastened at any desired point, and partly for the reason that they are as firm and secure as the stage itself.”
A photograph from “The Machinery of the Grand Opera” by E. F. Keller, 1897.A photograph from “The Machinery of the Grand Opera” by E. F. Keller, 1897.A photograph from “The Machinery of the Grand Opera” by E. F. Keller, 1897.
Every once in a while you stumble across an unexpected gem while doing research. In many cases for me, it has absolutely nothing to do with what I was looking for on my quest. It just magically appears on the same page, or somewhere nearby. That is why I always like looking for books in the library; three rows over there might be a book that I would have never otherwise encountered.
Today’s discovery looks at something that is evasive, even for theatre technicians – stage terminology. It changes from country to country and decade to decade. Unless there is an article that clearly explains the vernacular for the stage at a certain point in time, we can only hazard a guess or piece together bits of information from memoirs, trade journals and newspaper articles. The current words that we are familiar would seem foreign over a century ago to our predecessors. I discovered an article from 1895 that defines “meanings of some behind-the-scenes technical terms.”
It was in a January 6, 1895, article for the Detroit Free Press titled “Stage English” (page 15). I am posting the article in its entirety, as it is extremely valuable for deciphering our past and should be available for my colleagues. The attached photographs are of a model that I recently built for the Matthews Opera House in Spearfish Matthews when I was asked to depict what their original 1906 Twin City Scenic Co. collections would have looked like at the time of delivery.
“Stage English”
“The patrons of the theatre hear a great deal about “flies,” “borders,” “tormentors, braces, wings, traps and many other things belonging to the arcana of the stag, but comparatively few have anything like a definite idea of their meaning. Some industrious recorder of facts has taken pains to make a cursory collection of these for the general information.
The pieces of canvas running across the top of the stage, representing sky, ceiling, and so on, are “borders,” and the “flies” are the galleries on either side of the stage, made continuous by “the paint-bridge” at the back.
Wood, interior and sky borders created for the Matthews Opera House model by Wendy Waszut-Barrett in October 2017.
The back scene is generally in two pieces called “flats,” but when the scene descends from above or ascends from beneath the stage an is one piece, upon a roller or otherwise, it is called a “drop.”
Roll drops for the Matthews Opera House model created in October 2017 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.
The narrow side scenes are “wings,” and they run, top to bottom, in “grooves,” which are divided into “cuts.”
Wings for the Matthews Opera House model created by Wendy Waszut-Barrett in October 2017.
The inclined platforms are “runs” and used in mountain scenes, battle scenes and so on. The small painted frames used to hide from sight the audience the “runs” are known as “masking pieces.” A “box scene” is a room with solid walls and ceiling, and you cannot “box in” a forest scene. The pieces of canvas overhead are “sky borders,” and the space over these, sometimes stretching up to a great height, is known as the “rigging loft,” and the intricate webs of ropes up there are all worked from “the flies.”
“The “paint bridge” is the continuation and connecting part of the two galleries constituting the “flies,” which are stationary galleries and immovable. But the “paint bridge” is made to rise and lower as the pleasure of the scene painters and others, and immediately behind it is the “paint frame,” also to be raised and lowered so as to bring within easy reach all parts of the scenery the artists may be painting.
Paint bridge illustration from an 1890 article in the Philadelphia Press.
The holes on the stage are called “traps,” and underneath them are the trap cellars.” The “star” or “vampire” trap is a hole in the stage through which disappear r shoot upwards some of the principles in the pantomime and other spectacular pieces.
Stage trap at the Matthews Opera House in Spearfish, South Dakota.
The noise resembling the breaking of timber and the falling of houses is made by means of a gigantic rattle, moved by a handle. Against the wall of the stage, generally at the exit to the street, is the “call box,” upon which, or rather within which, are posted the “calls,” or notices of rehearsals and other important events to occur. A “sea-cloth” is a piece of canvas, which is painted to represent water, and is shaken to produce an imitation of waves. The instructions from the author to the carpenter concerning the scenes in the play are called “scene plots.” The particular part of the stage where the stage carpenter stows his scenes is called “the dock.” This term is elastic, however, and applies to any place in or out of the theater where scenery is stowed.”
Garden scene for the Matthews Opera House model as originally designed by the Twin City Scenic Co. in 1906. Created by Wendy Waszut-Barrett in October 2017.Scenic elements for the original garden scene for the Matthews Opera House model designed by the Twin City Scenic Co. in 1906.An angle view of the street scene for the Matthews Opera House model created by Wendy Waszut-Barrett in October 2017.Scenic elements for the 1906 street scene designed by the Twin City Scenic Co. for the Matthews Opera House in Spearfish, South Dakota.
The Grand Opera House in Ogden, Utah. Scenery installation by Thomas G. Moses, assisted by Edward Loitz, with stage machinery by Joe Wikoff. Venue opened December 29, 1890. Illustration of the Ogden Grand Opera House floor plan from the December 30, 1890, in “The Standard” (No. 308, Vol. 3, front page)
The Ogden Grand Opera House was partially funded by the Browning Brothers and opened with Emma Abbot’s performance of “Carmen.” A full-page review about this new entertainment venue was published on the December 30, 1890, in “The Standard” (No. 308, Vol. 3, front page). Here are some details from the article pertaining to the stage space and painted front curtain by Thomas G. Moses:
Illustration of the Ogden Grand Opera House floor plan from the December 30, 1890, in “The Standard” (No. 308, Vol. 3, front page)
The auditorium was 65 feet between the walls in width and 72 feet in length. Seating accommodated 1700 people with was overflow available in the foyer and other rooms that could accommodate another 100 people. The first floor of the auditorium was divided into orchestra and orchestra circle, while the gallery was divided into a balcony and family circle with a second gallery above. The proscenium arch measured 32 feet in height by 38 feet in width. The distance between the curtain line to the footlights was five feet. The distance from the footlights to the back wall was 45 feet.
Illustration of the Ogden Grand Opera House from the December 30, 1890, in “The Standard” (No. 308, Vol. 3, front page). Scenery was contracted by Sosman & Landis and painted by Thomas G. Moses and Edward Loitz.
A sounding board with “artfully painted figures,” measuring 11 feet by 65 feet above the proscenium arch. This reminded me of the proscenium arch that I just saw at Matthews Opera House in Spearfish, South Dakota. In Spearfish, the painted figures above the sounding board by the Twin City Scenic Company depicted portraits of Shakespeare, Joseph Jefferson, and Edwin Booth.
Sound board with painted portraits of Edwin Booth, Shakespeare and Joseph Jefferson above the proscenium arch in Spearfish, South Dakota (Matthews Opera House, Twin City Scenic Co. , 1906). This is similar to what the article describes for the sounding board with “artfully painted figures” in Ogden, Utah, at the Grand Opera House.Shakespeare painted on the sound board above the proscenium arch in Spearfish, South Dakota (Matthews Opera House, Twin City Scenic Co. , 1906). This is similar to what the article describes for the sounding board with “artfully painted figures” in Ogden, Utah, at the Grand Opera House.Joseph Jefferson painted on the sound board above the proscenium arch in Spearfish, South Dakota (Matthews Opera House, Twin City Scenic Co. , 1906). This is similar to what the article describes for the sounding board with “artfully painted figures” in Ogden, Utah, at the Grand Opera House.Edwin Booth painted on the sound board above the proscenium arch in Spearfish, South Dakota (Matthews Opera House, Twin City Scenic Co. , 1906). This is similar to what the article describes for the sounding board with “artfully painted figures” in Ogden, Utah, at the Grand Opera House.
Ogden’s stage measured forty-two feet in width by seventy feet in height. There were with four sets of “modern grooves hanging twenty-feet above the stage.” The height to the fly girder was twenty-seven feet and to the rigging loft fifty-six feet. At this same time, the proscenium arch would increase from 32 feet high by 38 feet wide to 36 feet high by 38 ½ feet wide in 1905, suggesting a renovation (Julius Cahn’s Theatrical Guide).
There was a paint bridge planked by two counterweighted paint frames, each measuring thirty feet by thirty-seven feet in size. This is where all of the scenery would have been painted onsite by Moses and Ed Loitz. In Fort Scott, Kansas, Moses had also constructed a paint frame on site to use for the drops. The wood was later incorporated into top battens, unlike in Ogden, Utah, where it was left to hang for future projects. The Ogden Grand Opera House also had two quarter traps, a center trap, and one thirty foot bridge. “The Standard” article printed that all of these features were “fitted in the most appropriate styles.”
The article also noted,“2,500 feet of rope used for hoisting and cording the counterweights and 12,000 yards of canvas used for scenery purposes.” Based on standard Sosman and Landis drop construction, 143 yards of fabric would have been used for a 33’ x 39’ drop (36” wide muslin with vertical seams). This would be enough fabric to create 83 full-size drops. Based on the inventory of past collections, I believe that there would have been approximately 50 drops with the remaining fabric being used for wings, borders, and flats that would lash together to form box sets.
For me, however, the most interesting aspect of the entire front-page article was the description of the scenic artists and the front curtain painted by Moses.
“The stage equipment will be equal in every respect to any metropolitan theatre in the country. Sosman & Landis, the scenic artists have been represented here by Thos. G. Moses, an artist of wide reputation and ability, who has fitted up some of the largest and finest theaters in the country for the firm he represents. His work reflects great credit on Sosman & Landis and himself.
The drop curtain is without doubt one of Mr. Moses best efforts. It is purely oriental in design and color, and represents a view in the Orient from the interior of a mosque. The delicate blue sky is softly blended to a warm grey of the hazy distant city, which is seen beyond the river. The greys and purples of the middle distance form a charming contrast between the extreme delicate distance and the warm supply foreground where the minarets and domes of the ruined mosque stand in bold relief against the clear sky, and fairly glitter in the strong sunlight. The cool green palms and delicate vines lend a very picturesque effect to the architecture, while the lazy natives and ungainly looking camels put life to the picture and give the landscape a most decided oriental feeling. A cool shadow is thrown across the immediate foreground which partially throws the arch of the interior in shadow, where the polished wood is thrown in strong relief against the landscape and is nicely draped with blue plush with a lining of ecru silk, which falls in soft folds on the polished floor, on which is spread an oriental rug, with a vase of flowers and gold and silver urns, etc., gives the whole finish which is artistic and homelike.
Mr. Thomas G. Moses has been assisted in his work by Mr. Edward Loitz, a rising young artist and Mr. Wikoff, the stage machinist. The combination is one that could only be created with much study and one gifted by nature for this special class of art. The picture sets well its beautiful frame, it’s coloring is rich, the distance is good and the foreground approaches near nature. The mechanical arrangements of this, as well as the asbestos curtain, are of the most approved description, being hung and counterweighted to hoist speedily. To the right and left are encore entrances, obviating the necessity of drawing the curtain aside when necessary for the performers to appear before it.”
To be continued…
Although very little is included of the Grand Opera House scenery or building, Beth Browning’s 1947 thesis Brigham Young University, “History of Drama in Ogden,” may be of interest to someone. Here is the link to her paper: http://scholarsarchive.byu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi…She eyewitness accounts of family members and interesting stories surrounding the theatre community in Ogden.
The Sosman & Landis Studio in Chicago employed many notable individuals over the years besides Thomas G. Moses. Two nationally renowned stage machinists, David A. Strong, and Charles S. King, were also employed at the studio during the late nineteenth century. We know very little of King beyond information published in a few newspaper articles. Unfortunately, many newspaper articles can get it wrong, as the authors don’t always understand what they are writing about. Imagine the difficulty in describing the complexities of stage machinery and histories of the stage carpenters.
An article titled “An Old Stager,” provides the most information about King’s past. On October 30, 1889, “The Republican” mentioned that C. S. King “began his career as a stage carpenter and stage machinist in 1859, which he has followed ever since except an interval of three years, which he served in the Union Army during the late war, and another brief period that he was manager of a large company on the road” (page 4).
The article went on to explain that for the last fifteen years, King had been in the employ of Sosman & Landis of Chicago “which of itself is sufficient recommendation of his abilities, and has fitted up some of the finest opera houses in the country as well as in Canada and Mexico.” Well, this contradicts many other newspaper articles and company advertisements that site the opening of Sosman & Landis Studio as 1877, not 1874. However, it is possible that King had been working with Sosman on stage installations since 1874. Sosman’s scenic artist career began in 1872 when he started assisting the Chicago-based artist, T. B. Harris. King and Sosman could have worked on the same projects since that time. This would actually make sense as an ideal group of individuals would be gathered to form a company when Sosman met Landis in 1876. Remember that Landis was primarily a salesman and never really worked as a technician or painter for the studio.
Finally, the author of the “Republican” article wrote, “Mr. King came to Columbus Sept. 11, and commenced on the bare floor of the new theatre to construct the various stage machinery, mount scenery, and everything connected with stage settings, all without drawings or specifications, except those stored in his head from long experience.” I became fascinated with this statement and started to think back to the need for trade secrets. Like those operative masons who formed lodges during the building of the great cathedrals; trade secrets were essential to market your skill and win work over your competitors.
1889 Crump Theatre in Columbus, Ohio. Stage machinery by C. S. King and scenery by Thomas Moses of Sosman & Landis. Walter Doup was the first stage carpenter for the venue.
Crump Theatre drop curtain painted by Thomas G. Moses in 1889.An early stage setting at the Crump Theatre in Columbus, Ohio. Exact date unknown.
Six years earlier in 1881, King was brought in to install the stage machinery for the Grand Opera House in Minneapolis, Minnesota. At the time, he was thirty years old with seven years of practical experience in the industry. On January 27 of that year, the Minneapolis Tribune published, “Mr. C. S. King, the stage carpenter at the Grand Opera House, was initiated into some of the mysteries of stage mechanism as exemplified in our new temple of amusement. Mr. King who was summoned here from Chicago, is regarded as one of the best stage-carpenters in the country, having had wide experience and possessing perfect knowledge of his progression. He says that our opera house will have the finest stage, the easiest worked, and will be the best appointed theatre west of Chicago, or of many large eastern cities” (page 5).
The Grand Opera in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Stage machinery by C. S. King in 1881. W. K. Brown was the first stage carpenter for the venue.
I thought back to the creation of the Theatrical Mechanics Association in 1866 and their Masonic-like structure, complete with a Grand Master and local lodges. The statement “initiated into some of the mysteries of stage mechanism” would certainly be an initiation ritual for entry into the Theatrical Mechanics Association in 1881. Elaborate initiations were simply a popular practice of the time with most fraternal societies. I bet the stage mechanics ritual was a hoot!
When King worked on the Crump Theatre, he was working with a local individual who would function as the permanent stage carpenter for the venue – Walter Doup. Similarly, when King was working on the stage at the Grand Opera in Minneapolis, the local stage carpenter for the venue would be William Knox Brown, one of the three founders of Twin City Scenic Company. Brown began his stage work in Minneapolis at the Grand Opera House in 1882.
You can only imagine my surprise when I stumbled across an article describing the training and responsibilities of stage carpenters in a 1901 Minneapolis newspaper article entitled “Experts Behind the Scenes.”
To be continued…
Here is a link to the history of the Crump Theatre for more information: www.historiccolumbusindiana.org/jscrump.htm
While supervising the removal of the 1924 Fort Scott Scottish Rite scenery collection, I stumbled across a variety of notes written on the inside the wooden sandwich battens. These battens were attached to both the tops and bottoms of each drop. Mathematical calculations, random notes, and small cartoons were jotted down in pencil during 1924. One batten even listed the organization of drops on line sets for the Fort Scott counterweight system. It was remarkable! My favorite discovery, however, was the pencil illustration of a counterweight rigging system that I immediately photographed and sent to Rick Boychuk. I recognized the familiar penmanship of Thomas G. Moses with its scrawling slant. His writing had been beautifully preserved for over ninety years, hidden in the center of the sandwich battens.
Fort Scott Scottish Rite batten with drops for degree productions listed. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett in 2015.Fort Scott Scottish Rite batten with drawing of counterweight rigging system. Location of artifact currently unknown as the battens were not reattached to the scenery once hung in the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center. This onsite photograph was taken by Wendy Waszut-Barrett in 2015 during the scenery removal and transportation from Kansas to Minnesota.
I am intrigued with the men who not only painted scenery for the stage, but also designed the stage machinery. The saying “necessity is the mother of invention” always comes to mind when I think of those who were able to engineer and paint transformation scenes. For me, the combined position of artist-engineer makes complete sense and provided much less of an opportunity for possible miscommunication! In any case, the stage mechanic must have understood how the painted product will appear. Similarly, the scenic artist must also have understood how the stage machinery would work. David A. Strong was one example of a theatrical artist and theatrical mechanic. He was not only recognized as a superb scenic artist, but also member of the Theatrical Mechanics Association.
Yesterday, I mentioned the value of hands-on experience for both theatre practitioners and scholars. The University of Minnesota Centennial Showboat provided training for not only design and scenic art techniques, but also stage machinery and construction skills. Today I start looking at those who simultaneously functioned as scenic artists and stage carpenters. I think back to the nineteenth-century production that used multiple scenery designers for a single show. This has always intrigued me when I read the lists of those credited with the production of individual acts and am curious about the visual unity of the entire show. In some cases, when an individual and wasn’t identified as producing the stage machinery, I can only believe that those credited with “scenery” were also engineering and constructing their own stage effects.
Roles noted in theatre programs became more delineated by the end of the nineteenth century. Technical theatre positions appear to be introduced and defined with job specific titles and duties occur. It is possible that the appearance of scenic studios contributed to the further division of roles in the theatrical labor pool.
Enter Rick Boychuk and his continued research concerning Charles S. King and the appearance of the counterweight system in North American theaters. For the past year, I have occasionally searched for information concerning King, a stage mechanic who worked at Sosman and Landis during the late nineteenth century. Usually I come up empty handed. Boychuk first introduced to me to King and his role as stage carpenter for the Crump Theatre in Columbus, Ohio. As a side note, Thomas G. Moses was credited with painting the drop curtain for the Crump, so they worked together. Both Moses and King were employees of Sosman & Landis at the same time.
Last month, I stumbled across mention of King as a scenic artist and immediately thought of David A. Strong, also an employee of Sosman & Landis Studio! In 1887, C. S. King was noted as the professional stage machinist who came from Chicago “to build and paint the scenery, rigging and traps for the stage” at the Opera House in El Paso, Texas.
When I look at the key figures, such as David Austin Strong, in the development of Masonic theaters, I always return to the same thought: the system worked extremely well for the unskilled – the Masons. Did the development of the design also take this factor into consideration, or was it all a happy coincidence? Handling scenery in commercial houses was complicated and needed a specific skill set. Installing rigging systems for fraternal theaters required extensive knowledge in the stage machinery, painted illusion, and stage work. Once properly installed, the raising and lowering of dedicated lines, did not.
Being able to sell and install more scenery due to closely spaced lines also contributed to the evolution of Masonic stages as lines were often spaced 2” to 4” apart. However, the lines would still be handled by unskilled labor. The Masonic stagehands would be businessmen, farmers, ranchers, and others who had never stepped foot on the stage, let alone examined the rigging that raised and lowered painted scenery.
Scottish Rite counterweight system in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2016.Santa Fe, New Mexico, Scottish Rite. Photograph by Wendt Waszut-Barrett, 2016.Looking up into the flies and seeing the bottom battens of drops and the counterweight system. Scottish Rite in Pasadena, California.
Suddenly, there was a group of unskilled stagehands handling the scenes for Masonic degree productions. This was a secret society and a unique situation where trained individuals could not simply be hired to run the show. Therefore, the system of scenic mechanics for degree production needed to accommodate the unskilled. Again, the installation of a counterweight system is complicated, but the running of dedicated line sets is easy. Some lines that I have handled were weighted so well that I could lift a line no effort whatsoever.
Arbor cage with counterweights at the Scottish Rite in Austin, Texas.Arbor cage at the Scottish Rite in Grand Forks, North Dakota.
Thomas Moses credits David A. Strong as being the “Daddy” of Masonic design. Up until recently, I had believed that his comment primarily indicated the design and painting of compositions for the earliest fraternal stages. I now wonder if he wasn’t referring to the new scenic mechanics for the stage that Rick Boychuk covers in his book “Nobody Looks Up.” Strong was intimately familiar with the transition scenes used in east coast theatre, especially New York City. He brought this knowledge to the theatre and scenic studio in Chicago. He was in New York when the Theatrical Mechanics Association was formed and there when it arrived in Chicago. He was at Sosman & Landis, one of the earliest studios to create Scottish Rite scenery.
Instead of Strong being solely a scenic artist, what if he was really a stage machinist who could paint extremely well? Is it possible that he developed the Scottish Rite installations with the stage machinist Charles S. King, another Sosman & Landis employee? Think of those unique individuals who can create new technology and skillfully communicate their ideas to others, and then create art? Maybe Strong was equally equipped to design both the stage mechanics for Scottish Rite theatres as well as the painted compositions, but was best used in the studio as a scenic artist.
Then there is another factor to consider: Strong’s familiarity with the Fraternity. He had been a Mason since 1852, living in both the fraternal and theatrical worlds.
There are some things that are not considered “picture worthy.” I think it simply depends on who is taking the photo. A close friend of mine took a picture of the boiler in the basement of a Scottish Rite and it is a haunting image. She captured the rust and decay that had settled in over the decades and the image is a work of art.
Fort Scott Scottish Rite elevator. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.
I took a photograph of the old elevator at the Fort Scott Scottish Rite. It might not be considered art, but it to recorded a detail from this deceased Scottish Rite facility. The new building owners might not save this aged machine as current safety regulations could prohibit its continued use. I both loved and feared that elevator, becoming intimately familiar with it as I transported supplies up to the second floor theatre. The entire crew knew exactly how fast it could ascend to the second floor. After pushing the button, we could race up the thirty-seven-step curved staircase and arrive before the doors would even open. It was extremely slow and every trip became a gamble. Every time the door closed I wondered if we would get stuck between floors. As in McAlester, the metal gate had to be completely shut before the contraption would move and inch. Regardless of my fears, there was something nostalgic about that elevator. I was transported back in time whenever the door shut and the motor began to whirr, jarring the elevator into motion.
Stairs leads from Fort Scott Scottish Rite to second floor theater. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.
The entire building was a treasure trove of memories, filled with forgotten bits and pieces from the past. When I arrived on site during November 2015, the stage area was quite unkempt. The building had been vacant for over a year and there were piles of unwanted items scattered throughout the building.
Piles of unwanted items left behind after the Fort Scott Scottish Rite 2014 auction. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.Piles of trash scattered in stage left area of stage at the Fort Scott Scottish Rite. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.
These were all remnants from the previous year’s auction that liquidated almost all of the building’s contents. However, this rubbish did not detract from the former beauty of the stage and shadows of its former glory were still apparent. I could look beyond the grime, imagining the space with new wooden arbors and the shiny cable.
Stage right side of the stage and arbor cage filled with weights. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.Fort Scott Scottish Rite arbor cage with weights. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.
As I glanced at old stage equipment, it was difficult not to imagine standing under brand new scenery and border lights; the smell of fresh mortar, the scent of cut wood, and the acrid tang from new metal filling the space. An historic stage fills me with a yearning to experience the era of its creation.
As the weights were pulled from each arbor to remove a drop from the corresponding line, I was reminded of skeletal remains in a crypt. This rigging system had once been something quite special; effortlessly raising or lowering painted settings at a moments notice. The stage machinery had transformed the stage and once transported generations of men to far away lands. Now that the scenery was gone, leaving the counterweight system useless and out of date. It would eventually become disposed of as scrap metal.
Arbor cages devoid of weights at the Fort Scott Scottish Rite. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.Empty arbor cages in Fort Scott, Kansas, at the Scottish Rite theater. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.Cut cable and empty arbor cages after removing the scenery collection at the Fort Scott Scottish Rite for the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2015.
Perhaps that is why both Rick Boychuk and I salvaged complete rigging sets from the Fort Scott theater. Not as simple souvenirs or personal mementos, but to save a theatrical landmark in the evolution of stage design and machinery. The intricacy of an arbor could provoke a conversation so this technology could be remembered in the future.
It is now difficult for me to separate the painted scenery from the rigging as they are both so entwined in my mind, two halves of a whole. For me, the landscape above the stage is almost as exciting as those painted scenes below.
To be continued…
Here is a link to Rick Boychuk’s work http://www.counterweightrigging.com/
I have completely disassembled two complete Scottish Rite scenery installations by Sosman & Landis during the early twentieth century. This process gave me a sense of how much stage equipment and hardware was shipped to each Scottish Rite Valley. Seeing the buckets of hardware and stacks of wooden battens at the end of each project gave me an appreciation for the sheer volume of materials estimated when planning and ordering stage hardware for a scenery installation.
View of Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral counterweight arbors and wooden battens on bottoms of backdrops. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.Arbors that provide the counterweights for each drop. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.
John C. Becker purchased their stage hardware from J. H. Channon Corporation, specialists in the manufacture and installation of steel curtains, counterweight rigging, and theatrical supplies for the Moline. The contact for Channon was N. C. Nussbaumer, the company’s Vice President.
Channon Corporation estimate for Becker & Bro. Studio regarding stage hardware for Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral, 1929. Collection of Wendy Waszut-Barrett.Note the J. H. Channon Corp. name. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.
For Moline, Channon Corp. provided equipment for 100 sets of counterweight hanging, each with five line sets of cable.
Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral arbor cage. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.Standard cable used by Sosman & Landis in 1920s rigging systems for Scottish Rte theaters. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.
The necessary cable specified in the agreement would use 1/8” cable constructed of 7 strands (6 wires each) around a cotton core. For the sheave, Becker ordered two types of 5” groove sheaves and pins: regular and deep that would not need oiling. The system would also include head blocks of the same construction. Oak and iron arbor cages slid on malleable iron wire guides. Turnbuckles were included for tension. Eyebolts with wing nuts were added for later trimming. A tension spring was added to the system for weather conditions (slack lines).
Springs used to keep tension during seasonal changes at the Moline Scottish Rite theater. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.Turn buckles for anticipated adjustments. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett.
To fully appreciate the amount of stage hardware ordered from Channon for the Moline project, here are some of the supplies ordered to create one hundred line sets:
800 5” deep groove sheaves and pins
300 5” regular sheaves and pins
40,000 feet bright sash cord
10,800 feet 5/8” manila rope
12,000 feet 1/8” guide wire
200 ½” x 40” rods, nut & washer each end
700 5/16” H. & E. Turnbuckles
100 Springs
700 ¼” x 4” under eye nut eye bolts with wing nuts to have ¾” eye
Becker noted that each set would be properly balanced with gray iron weights provided by a local foundry. The Moline Foundry & Machine Co. produced the numerous seven-pound and twelve-pound weights for the Scottish Rite Cathedral stage’s arbors.
Arbor weights at the Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.One invoice for the stage weights at the Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral stage. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.
Channon would also supply the rigging for three sets of border lights and the front velour curtain. The agreement notes that the 30’ x 37’ Front Curtain that would “be of Marshall Field quality, heavy cotton backed with velour, sunfast.”
Ray H. Becker led a crew of five men to install the scenery in Moline. We know this, as it was the companies practice to take out a life insurance policy for each member of the crew. These policies provide a glimpse at the Becker installation crew, detailing information about the backgrounds and physical characteristics of the crew.
Insurance policy forms sent from Raymond H. Becker to the scenic studio for coverage during the Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral scenery installation. Collection of Wendy Waszut-Barrett.
In 1930, Raymond H. Becker was 38 years old, born on August 13, 1891 in Booneville, Indiana. He was 6’-0” tall and 175 lbs., currently living in Maywood, Illinois. Ray was assisted by Wallace Lloyd Timmons (a 23 year old male from Chicago), Louis French (a 45 year old male from Davenport, Iowa), William Newman (a 40 year old from Davenport, Iowa), John Murphy (a 41 year old male from Davenport, Iowa) and two unnamed gentlemen. One was a 56-year-old man who was also from Davenport who also listed “stage work” as his profession. This crew had one 45 year-old local hire from Moline who lived on 9th Street. I was personally surprised by the age of the crew, expecting the majority of men to be slightly younger. The out-of-town crew stayed at Moline’s Le Claire Hotel, a sizable building with “220 rooms with baths and 70 apartments” for approximately three weeks. Built in 1922, the hotel was a fifteen-story hotel that only competed in size with the height of the steeple of the First Lutheran Church. Becker had used the hotel stationary for his correspondence with the studio.
Hotel where Ray Becker stayed during the Moline Scottish Rite cathedral project. Collection of Wendy Waszut-Barrett.
I thought back to 1912 when the western representative for M. C. Lilley explained the loss of their head carpenter in correspondence with the Valley of Austin. Although the carpenter remained unnamed, Brown noted that this individual was the sole person who specialized in the installation of counterweight systems for Scottish Rite scenery collections. I had to wonder when purchasing insurance policies for the installation crew became a standard policy for Becker & Bro. Was this a standard industry practice due to the anticipated danger?
Ray Becker’s note accompanying the insurance policies also gave us a little more information about the timeframe for the Moline installation. On May 7, 1930, Ray Becker had mailed the insurance policies with the explanation that he would only have that particular crew for another week.
