A leg drop and cut drop painted by Toomey & Volland Scenic Studio for the Scottish Rite Theatre in Richmond, Virginia. These two pieces were relocated to the Scottish Rite in Tucson, Arizona last month (Jan 2021). When the Richmond Scottish Rite moved to a new building in 1968, one-third of the scenery collection was placed in storage. These two drops were rolled and placed in storage, high above the properties room, stage-left. However, the backdrop to accompany the scene is missing.
All three pieces formed a classical rotunda setting for the 30th degree (Scottish Rite degree setting). We know what the missing backdrop looked like, as this same scene was delivered to the Louisville Scottish Rite.
Backdrop design that would have accompanied the Richmond leg drop and cut drop. This backdrop is from the Louisville Scottish Rite.Second leg drop at the Louisville Scottish Rite.First leg drop at the Louisville Scottish Rite.Painted detail. Richmond Scottish Rite scenery.Painted detail. Richmond Scottish Rite scenery.Painted detail. Richmond Scottish Rite scenery.Painted detail. Richmond Scottish Rite scenery.Painted detail. Richmond Scottish Rite scenery.
Unfortunately, the two leg drops were repositioned at the Louisville Scottish Rite and the setting can no longer be viewed as originally installed. The two leg drops were erroneously placed on neighboring lines.
Relocating any historic scenery collection from one state to another is always a challenge. Regardless of any information gathered during a preliminary site visit, there are always a few surprises.
The Richmond Scottish Rite scenery collection is composed of 73 drops, dating from 1902 to 1920. Much of the collection was produced by Toomey & Volland Scenic Studio of St. Louis, Missouri, during the first decade of the twentieth century. The original pieces measured approximately 20’h x 34’w. In the 1920s additional scenes were purchased from Toomey & Volland when a new stage was constructed. Interestingly, the size of the original scenery was reduced to 18’h x 26’w; all of the scenery was cut down on the top and at the sides at this time.
The drops viewed from the fly rail at the Richmond Scottish Rite. October 2020.View of arbors with counterweights on the fly rail. October 2020.
In the 1960s, the Richmond Scottish Rite built a new building and stage, but only hung 2/3 of their scenery collection. This meant that 1/3 of the collection went into storage, out of sight, out of mind.
Some of the drops were hidden under chairs and other debris above the properties room, stage left.Lowering the drops to the stage at the Richmond Scottish Rite. October 2020.Rolled drops discovered above the properties room at the Richmond Scottish Rite in October 2020 were lowered to the stage floor.
The current stage was much wider than the old one, and I believe that the original intent was to purchase new scenery for the 1968 stage. In the end, the additional stage space on either side of each drop was greatly appreciated during removal and temporary storage prior to shipping!
The Scottish Rite stage in Richmond, Virginia.Old scenery produced for previous stage was moved to the new building in 1968.One of the top battens with original shipping label. Some top battens were previously replaced with jute webbing and tie lines; all were failing.
Many original sandwich battens were replaced with jute webbing and tie line or pipe pockets about twenty-five years ago. Some repair work was done to various scenes too, including the replacement of 1” cotton netting with a ½” plastic version. Sadly, an abundance of hot melt glue was used to attach the plastic netting, irreparably damaging some areas of the painted scenes.
In the past, some of the original netting was replaced with a plastic version using hot melt glue.
In other cases, spray adhesive was used for attaching fabric patches, white foam, bobbinet and plastic netting. This was a singularly horrible idea, as the spray adhesive partially melted the white foam.
At some point, white foam was attached with spray adhesive along cut edges.Front of the same scene.
All of these “add-ons” had to be carefully removed before rolling, encapsulating and shipping. Leaving on the foam, plastic netting, or anything else would damage the painted surface. This job was much more than lowering drops from lines, rolling, encapsulating, packing and shipping. However, preserving these beautiful examples of scenic art will be well worth it.
After careful documentation of each drop, the rigging system and stage area, a plan was put in place for the relocation of the Richmond Scottish Rite scenery collection to Tucson, Arizona. It is a 2,228-mile drive from Richmond to Tucson – four days of driving. The major obstacles for this project were both holiday timing and a nationwide health crisis.
For context, the Richmond Scottish Rite was being sold and all of the drops needed to be removed from the building by the evening of Jan. 14, 2021. All other artifacts in the building were being removed mid-December in preparation for the sale. There was not enough time to complete the project before the holidays, so we were left with starting immediately after the New Year. This meant that I would have less than two weeks to complete the project. Due to the holidays, our departure from Minneapolis, Minnesota, was scheduled for Jan. 3, with work commencing on Jan. 5. My crew would consist of two riggers and two scenery handlers. There would be a fifth individual on call for the final loading of the truck. All locals.
As I watched the COVID-19 infection rate spiral out of control across the United States in December, my plans changed. If the building did not have a definitive sale date, I would have postponed the project until late spring or early summer. With the building changing hands Jan. 15, however, I saw no other option to save the scenery and decided to complete the job with only two other people. We would be our own self-contained quarantine bubble. Continued delays in nationwide shipping services and a supply shortage supported this decision. In the end, I would bring all supplies and food with me to make sure everything arrived on site and on time. By the way, the building is still for sale. You cannot imagine my reaction when I noticed the lack of a “sold” sign on the “For Sale” sign upon arrival.
The sale sign in front of the Richmond Scottish Rite. Note absence of “sold” on it.
So here is how I approached this particular project.
The two other people that I brought on site were my husband (Andrew Barrett) and Michael Powers. Between the three of us we have 180 years of life experience, as well as a healthy respect for safety protocols. Michael would handle the lines from the fly rail, with Andrew and I handling all of the scenery below.
Michael Powers at the fly rail. Richmond Scottish Rite.
All of our tools, supplies and food were transported from Minneapolis, Minnesota, to Richmond, Virginia, in a 15’ U-Haul truck. Food and supplies were packed after renting our first U-Haul on Jan. 2, 2021.
Andrew drove the truck and I drove my car. Michael bounced between the two vehicles for company. The intent was to leave the 15’ truck in Richmond, while having my car for transport to and from work. We would then rent a 26’ truck to transport the drops from Richmond to Tucson. The rolled drops measured 20’ long and the top battens measured 25’-5” long. Andrew would then drive the 26’ truck while Michael and I headed home to Minneapolis with half of my tools and some of the food. In Tucson, Andrew could drop off the shipment, return the 26’ rental truck and rent an SUV to transport himself and the other half of my tools home. Everything worked like clockwork in the end. In many ways, one of the most difficult tasks was planning meals to last for all of us from Jan. 3-20, so we did not visit restaurants or shop at grocery stores in another region.
The three of us left early in the morning on Jan 3, spending our first night in Indianapolis, Indiana. Due to weather conditions and other mishaps, our first 9 ½-hrs. driving day became an 11-hour day. Our only stops were gas stations and rest areas. By the evening of Jan. 4, we were unloading in Richmond, after another long day of driving. As planned, we started work on the morning of January 5. We worked five days in a row, took one day off, and worked four more days. We all departed Richmond on the morning of January 15. Our workdays ranged from 9 to 10 ½ hours, with our “day off” being reserved as a possible workday. Thank goodness we did not need to use it. We did not take breaks, and only stopped for a 30-minute lunch. We all felt the pressure form the compressed timeline, and I can’t sit still in general.
The first day went fairly slow, as we unloaded, prepped the space, and assembled the PVC pipes. We were only able to roll three drops that day, but established an efficient system.
One-third of the scenes had never been hung at the current theater, placed into storage in 1968 when the Scottish Rite Masons built their new home and stage. Until our October visit, these scenes were simply tucked away under piles of dust above a properties room, stage left. During my October visit, we lowered and documented these drops. Each rolled drop had both top and bottom battens. Only the original front curtain for the previous stage was missing a top batten.
The scenery that hung above the stage was an entirely different story. Fifteen drops still had their original top battens directly tied into the operating lines. Some of these drops still retained their bottom battens, but the majority had newer pipe pockets sewn onto the fragile fabric. Some drops had a combination of jute webbing and bottom battens. Other drops had both jute webbing and pipe pockets, replacing the original wood battens. As I suspected upon preliminary inspection, all of the seams were failing so the jute and pipe pockets had to be removed prior to transport. I didn’t want to chance their being reused. Due to time constraints, the drops with battens were cut off and the 26’-0” long battens shipped intact. By the way, this is also how the 1902 Little Rock, Arkansas, scenery was also shipped to Pasadena, California, in the 1920s. The original drop fabric was never removed from between the battens.
Historic fabric takes on a unique shape when hanging for decades, unlike rolled drops; it is quirky. Over time, the center and sides of a drop stretch, sometimes to an irreparable point. This means that you can’t line a tube up to the edges of the fabric and start rolling; you have to locate a central seam, position the tube and roll backwards to the edge, then secure the fabric to the tube. This is one of those odd projects where too many hands actually make more work. You want fewer points of contact when rolling. Rolling an historic drop is often time-consuming process, often consisting of rolling, re-rolling, re-positioning and re-rolling. This is often my least favorite part of the process.
I tried a new technique for rolling the drops this time out of sheer necessity; necessity being the mother of invention. Much of it had to do with the tube. Instead of a 20’ long tube, I pieced together two 3” x 10’ PVC pipes with a coupler. The ends also had temporary couplers to help elevate each side from drooping and maintain consistency while rolling. And there was just one person rolling – me.
Rolling a drop. The plastic was used to prevent hot melt glue remnants from damaging the painting.
I crawled along the center, slowly rolling with an open palm, using the coupler as my guide. The three couplers raised the tube ¼” off the ground, allowing the fabric to adjust during rolling. Andrew occasionally lifted the end of a tube, or shifted it, to adjust tension and overall direction. Unlike a solid 20’ tube that keeps constant pressure on the fabric, there is space for the fabric to adjust itself while rolling with the couplers. Overall, this was the easiest and best rolling job that I have ever completed in the minimal amount of time. Absolutely no creases or wrinkles.
The issue with rolling historic drops is that they are not flat pieces of fabric. Furthermore, the drops are no longer square; both tops and bottoms flare out. Although the task may seem simple, it is not. Drops do not roll up like large pieces of linoleum, easily feeding onto a tube at the same rate. You must always remember that there is more fabric in the center. The central fabric was stretched after billowing in the air for years; think of a parachute. This excess fabric and odd shape mean that the drop will not easily roll and have a tendency to “walk” in one direction or another. The tube needs to be at least a foot longer on each end of the fabric for walking. Once the fabric starts to “walk,” however, it can easily go off one side or the other. You need to prevent fabric from walking as much as possible. However, you can’t force the fabric onto the tube and make it roll on straight, as there will be areas with excessive material. Even employing constant tension during the rolling will cause wrinkles to form, as excess fabric gathers around the roll. Creases cause the paint to crack and flake during transit, so they need to be avoided.
Preparing to encapsulate a drop for transportation. Michael Powers at work.Michael Powers and Andrew Barrett encapsulating a drop.
Back to my timeline. The drops rolled on the floor were completed by the end of the third day, and we began lowering drops on the fourth day. Tyvek suits, respirators and hard hats were a necessity as the dust continued to filter down from the lines. We minimized the spread of contaminants in both the space and on ourselves. Unfortunately, I donated the majority of my N95 masks supply to medical workers last spring, and depleted my final supply of masks on site at the Tabor Opera House in September. I returned to standard respirators with N95 cartridges. People who complain about fabric masks have obviously never worn a respirator for an entire work day while doing manual labor.
Andrew Barrett in full protective gear.
We did get to rest on the sixth day, and drove to Virginia Beach to watch the waves. Seeing the ocean, and having a picnic lunch in our car on a col day did a world of good for our tired bodies and minds.
Our day off at Virginia Beach.
We were able to finish rolling all drops by Tuesday, Jan. 12. Wednesday was spent picking up the 26’ truck and building the shipping frame for the drops and battens. While Michael and Andrew prepared the truck, I completed the labeling system for the drops.
Organizing the drops and battens for loading.
The end of each roll contained two labels. The first (white) label included a number and description, as well as indicating whether it was the top or bottom of the vertically rolled scene. The number on the first label correlated to a detailed packing list. The second (color) labels listed the scenic piece, included an image pictures of the piece, and noted all of the Masonic degrees the setting could accompany. The color coding distinguished between exterior and palatial scenes, in addition to those reserved for specific empty lines at the Tucson Scottish Rite.
The rack to carry drops and battens.Drops and wood battens in 26′ truck.
Laughter sustained all of us for the majority of the project and we worked extremely well as a team. Michael and I returned to Minneapolis on Saturday, with him driving home Sunday morning (Jan. 17). Andrew dropped off the shipment yesterday (Jan. 18) in Tucson and starts for home today.
Tomorrow (Jan. 20) I return to all of the projects that I put on hold, especially the Tabor Opera House (Leadville, Colorado) scenery evaluation. I will continue to post painted details from both Richmond and Leadville in the upcoming weeks.
For the past month, I have explored the lives and careers of various scenic artists who worked for the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado, and Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver, Colorado. Last week, before I left for Richmond, Virginia, I was in the midst of exploring Tabor Grand Opera House scenic artist Henry C. Tryon. Beginning his life as Henry B. Hoornbeck, he officially changed his last name to Henry C. Tryon in 1882. This is similar to the British actor Ebenezer J. Britton, who painted under the alias Harley Merry.
It is important to recall the timeline for both Leadville’s Tabor Opera House and Denver’s Tabor Grand Opera House. The Tabor Opera House in Leadville opened on November 20, 1879. By March 1880, H. A. W. Tabor announced that he purchased land in Denver to build another opera house. The new venue was named the Tabor Grand Opera House, and designed by Edbrooke and F. P. Burnham of Chicago. Keep in mind that these the architects provide another concrete connection with Chicago scenic artists of the day. The Tabor Grand Opera House opened on August 1, 1881. That year, newspapers across the country described the theater:
“The stage is constructed and fitted up on a scale that would cause envy in many Eastern theatres. The decorations in the body of the theatre itself are of the most beautiful description, and one can see at a glance that expense was not considered in the least” (New Orleans, 6 Dec. 1881, page 9). “Harry Miner’s Dramatic Directory” described the Tabor Grand Opera House: “Size of stage, 45×75; size of proscenium opening, 34×33; height from stage to grooves, 20; height from stage to rigging loft, 66; depth under stage, 12; traps, 6, and 2 bridges; number sets of scenery, 50.”
Henry C. Tryon painted for the Tabor Grand Opera House. Various newspapers and theatrical directories identify Tryon as the scenic artist there from 1881 to 1882. In addition to working in Denver during 1881, Tryon also painted in Cincinnati, Minneapolis, and Chicago. Like other scenic artists at this time, Tryon was constantly on the go and zipping across the country at an amazing speed to complete numerous projects.
Interestingly, another artist was credited with the Tabor Grand Opera’s drop curtain – Robert Hopkin (1832-1909). At the age of 49 yrs. old, Hopkin was a well-known artist all across the country, but primarily lived in Detroit. On March 5, 1881, the “Detroit Free Press” reported “Robert Hopkin, the artist, and his son William G., left for Colorado on Thursday to paint the scenery and curtains for three opera houses. Before leaving “Bob” remarked to a scribe of THE FREE PRESS, “the boy is up to the old man with the pencil, and ain’t much behind him with the brush” (page 1). Even year later, article about Hopkin would recall, “He decorated and painted the drop curtain and scenery for Tabor’s opera house at Denver, at the time one of the finest theaters in America.
I have written about Hopkin in the past, as well as his connection to Thomas G. Moses. Both Tryon and Moses worked as assistants to Hopkin Sr. in 1875 on a production of the “Naiad Queen.” Moses kept in touch with Hopkin, and also admired his artwork. In 1884, Moses visited the Tabor Grand while on a sketching trip with three other scenic artists: Edward Morange, Hardesty Maratta, and John H. Young. The four traveled from Chicago to Breckenridge, Colorado, to gather source material and hone their artistic skills. While on their trip, the visited the Tabor Opera House in Denver to see the drop curtain by their friend Robert Hopkins. The next year, Moses went on another sketching trip to West Virginia with Young and Tryon. Of the Colorado trip, Moses wrote, “We all attended the theatre, the famous Tabor Grand, and we found it all we had expected it would be, nicely decorated and fine woodwork. The Drop Curtain was very good: an old ruin with some poetical feeling that pleased everyone. It was painted by an old friend of mine, Mr. Robert Hopkins, of Detroit, Michigan. This is a favorite subject of his, having done a similar one in Detroit” (The palette & Chisel, Vol. 1, No. 3, March 1928). A photograph remains of Hopkins’ drop curtain for the Tabor Grand Opera House, now part of the Denver Public Library’s online collection.
Years later, the “Detroit Free Press” interviewed Robert “Bob” Hopkin and touched upon the drop-curtain for the Detroit Opera House (23 Sept 1906, page 51). The article reported, “Bob tells me that he grew up on the Detroit wharves, passed through an apprenticeship in mixing colors for decorators, drifted to scene painting, and finally made easel pictures. As he fished around in his boxes and albums for souvenirs of his early life, as last he brought up a faded photograph of the first drop-curtain of the Detroit Opera House. The theme was an allegorical landscape, surrounded by Corinthian columns, supporting a flat arch – an arch that builders have always said was impossible. But a fig cared Bob, the scenic artist, for these mechanical criticisms. He also showed me a drawing of the second curtain bearing the familiar lines: “So fleet the works of men back to their earth again; Ancient and holy things fade like a dream.” Hopkin’s drop curtains for both the Detroit Opera House and the Tabor Opera Grand Opera House used the same inscription below the ruins of a Greek temple.
The front curtain was often considered a project in itself, sometimes taking much longer than most other scenery delivered to a theater. Many nineteenth century articles identified artists who specialized in drop curtains. In 1894, the “Philadelphia Inquirer” reported, “The drop curtain is the most expensive piece of furniture in any playhouse. Managers are more solicitous about the care of a handsome curtain that almost any other appointment in their theatres. They are usually painted by artists of wide fame in a particular branch of art which they represent, whose charges for the work range from $1,000 to $3,000.” That amount is today’s equivalent of $29,000 to $89,000 for the front curtain.
So, consider the 1881 drop curtain painted by Hopkins for the Tabor Grand Opera; an incredibly expensive items for a theater, possibly one of the most expensive appointments at a performance venue. Theatre owners, artists and patrons understood the importance of this large-scale artwork; a drop-curtain set the tone for the interior and was a culmination of the painted décor.
Drop curtain painted by Robert Hopkin for the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver, Colorado.
I am frequently asked about historic scenery maintenance and restoration techniques, with many suggesting I publish some form of manual. Unfortunately, there is no standard way to restore all historic backdrops, cut drops, leg drops, roll drops, wings or shutters. Each one is different, demanding a custom approach based upon a unique set of criteria identified during the preliminary research phase.
A stage artifact’s artistic provenance is the main factor in determining the appropriate process for a continued care program, maintenance or any restoration.
Extensive research must be completed prior to proposing a plan for the handling, cleaning, or repair of a large-scale artwork. Certain questions need to be answered in advance too; whomanufactured the scenery, whenwas the scenery manufactured, andwherewas the scenery manufactured? The answers to these questions are key in determining the preservation strategy for a specific stage artifact or scenery collection. These answers also prompt a subsequent series of questions regarding appropriate materials, techniques, processes, timelines, future display and use. Is this historic scene intended for display in a theater, or will it simply hang on the wall of an art gallery, commercial establishment, or private residence? How often will the scenery be used, if at all? The answers to these basic questions help formulate a plan.
In addition to understanding an artifact’s artistic
provenance, all stakeholders must understand that certain materials and
techniques could destroy the artifact. I will explain what not to do, based on
examples of poor repairs that I have encountered in the past. There are specific materials and techniques
that should never be used on historic scenery or fragile fabric, as they cause
irreparable harm and could destroy a significant piece of theatre history.
Contemporary scene painting is a dramatic departure from historic scene painting, in terms of fabrics, painting products and artistic techniques. So much has changed over the past two centuries. Historic scenic art is foreign ground to many contemporary scene painters, especially as certain types of training and materials have vanished from most college curricula and theatre apprenticeships. Just because you are a scenic artist does not make you qualified to restore historic paintings; the two are worlds apart. In other words, an ability to paint historic scenes doesn’t mean you should repair historic scenery. Similarly, a fine art conservator is not necessarily qualified to assess and repair historic settings for the stage.
1. ESTABLISHING ARTISTIC PROVENANCE
The first step to any historic scenery project starts with
research. You need to establish the artistic provenance of a stage artifact or
scenery collection, and here are the questions that you need to ask, and why
you need to ask them:
WHO made
it? Is it a backdrop painted on cotton sheeting by a student for a class
play in the 1920s, or is it a drop curtain constructed of Russian linen and
painted by an internationally recognized artist in the 1890s? The manufacturer of a scenic piece matters,
as it is integrally tied to the painting process and materials.
Many nineteenth-century and early-twentieth-century American
scenic artists attended art institutes, at home and abroad. In many cases, fine
art studies were completed in addition to a lengthy apprenticeship at a
professional scenic studio before striking out on one’s own. American scenic artists at this time were
members of fine art organizations across the country, and much of their work
continues to be treasured in the fine art world. For example, some scenic
artists in the east belonged to the Salmagundi Club and/or Rochester Art
Club. In the midwestern states, scenic
artists studied at the Chicago Institute of Art, joining unique groups, such as
the Palette & Chisel Club. In the west, scenic artists belonged to a
variety of fine art organizations established in the Pacific North West,
California, New Mexico and elsewhere. Theatrical scenery created by scenic artists
should not be considered any less significant than their smaller fine art
pieces. Large scale works provided generations of artists with opportunities to
explore color theory, painting techniques, compositional lay outs and lighting
conditions. That being said, there were
many amateur artists producing scenery too, and their work is easily
identifiable, but also culturally significant.
Regardless of skill level and/or final product, the terms “old
backdrops,” “old backings for the stage,” and “old scenery” devalues stage art.
Instead, refer to historic scenery as “large-scale artworks” painted by local,
regional, national, or internationally recognized fine artists. Public perception
is crucial when preserving theatrical heritage. Your terminology could save a
piece of American theatre history, or world history.
WHEN was
the artifact manufactured? The year, decade, and/or century that the theatrical
scene was produced helps identify the type of fabric, paint, and painting
process. Knowing the age of a scene
helps identify various materials, especially the fabric and basic construction
techniques. Fabric seams, whether vertical or horizontal, can also identify a
particular era and studio. How the drop is suspended and operated also matters.
Are there sandwich battens, rollers, jute webbing, or something else at the top
and bottom of the scene? Is there a counterweight system with arbors or a pin
rail with sandbags? Keep in mind that the overall suspension affects the
deterioration of both the fabric and painted composition. Understanding the original
materials and display are crucial in identifying and locating appropriate and compatible
materials for any repair.
WHERE
was the artifact manufactured? Location can help identify a specific construction
and painting process. Certain regions adopted unique approaches to scenic art,
often based upon the influx of immigrants. Scenic art in the United States
began as a large melting pot of languages, traditions and techniques, with two
dominant approaches emerging between 1850 and 1900. At this time American
scenic artists primarily worked with opaque washes, thin glazes, and later a combination
of the two. These artistic influences are still recognizable today across the
country. For more information, read my recent article, “American Scenic Art:
The Immigrant Contribution,” in TheatreInitiative Berlin’s Die Vierte Wand #110.
Itavailable for free online https://archive.org/details/itheam_d4w-010_202009,
Throughout the twentieth century the American scenic art
world continued to change, incorporating new products and methods into the
painting process. As an industry many American scenic artists shifted from
painting on vertical frames to painting on the floor. A backdrop painted in
1929 and another painted in 1940 may seem light years apart when examining construction,
materials, painting techniques and operation.
2. MATERIALS AND PRODUCTS TO AVOID DURING RESTORATION
Restoration is for the long term. Unlike the ephemeral
nature of scenery for a short-run show, certain materials and techniques to
repair historic scenery should be avoided. Use common sense and think of the
big picture; one beyond a quick repair. Select techniques that are reversible
and will not permanently alter the artifact. Some methods to patch and repair contemporary
drops are not always an option for historic ones. Below is a list of specific
materials and techniques that should never be used on historic scenery or
fragile fabric:
Metal: Sheet metal is never
an option to patch fabric. The weight and sharp edges pose a threat and the
rivets puncture the fabric.
Plaster: Plaster on fabric adds
too much weight and the painted composition will stretch an irreparable amount.
Hot Melt Glue: This product
embeds itself in the fibers and is irreversible, while adding unnecessary weight
to the area. Hot melt glue should never be considered when repairing fragile
fabrics or historic scenery. It is also an accelerant, posing a fire hazard.
Wood Glue: This product is
too brittle to use on soft goods. It was also never intended for fabric; it’s
for wood.
Wood Putty: This product was never intended for use on fabric. Again, it is for wood and too rigid for repairs.
Masonite: The weight of any wood or composite material glued to the back of drop or flat causes stress and will irreparably stretch the surrounding area.
Contact Cement: This is an
irreversible and a solvent-based product that should not be used on historic
scenery. It poses a fire hazard.
Flexible Foam: This product should
not be glued to historic scenery at all.
Plastic and plastic netting:
Plastic should never pair with historic or fragile fabric for many reasons. In
regard to plastic netting, the rigidity will harm the fabric. Look for
all-natural cotton fabrics and nettings.
Do not replace wooden battens
with pipe pockets: Replacing wood battens with pipe pockets always fails.
Piercing the fragile fabric creates a weakness; adding weight on that weak area
works like a perforated page. It will eventually tear off.
Do not patch the front andsewn
fabric patches: Sewn patches are seldom a solution, as piercing the fabric
introduces additional weakness to damaged areas. Also, all patches should be
applied to the back of pieces, never the painted front.
Do not consolidate paint with a
reflective product: Dusting pigment is a problem with historic scenery, as
the original binder begins to break down over time. Humid environments and
water damage can accelerate this process. Consolidating loose pigment is the
only option to minimize airborne particles, especially those that may be
dangerous. The original binder for the paint was an all-natural, water-based product
with a completely matte finish (hide glue). If you substitute a contemporary
product, it should never leave any type of sheen to the surface or darken the
original color. Even when the label says “matte” or “flat” it may still reflect
stage lights.
Do not a
different artistic medium on historic scenery: A new paint product
should never be introduced for in-painting or overpainting on a historic drop. The
color and finish will not match the original paint product, especially under
the glare of stage lights. Oil pastels, markers, hobby paints, crayons and even
contemporary scenic paint should not be used when restoring scenery that was originally
painted with dry pigment and diluted hide glue.
Do not use flame-retardants on
historic scenery:
Fire
retardant chemicals irreparably damage historic scenery, harming both the
fabric substrate and the painted composition. The original fabric discolors
over time and becomes brittle. The painted surface will also crack, eventually flaking
off.
The
following was created by the director of Curtains Without Borders, Chris Hadsel:
“The
attached amendment was passed by the National Fire Protection Association
Technical Committee on Cultural Resources in September 2007. The amendment is to the National Fire
Protection Association (NFPA) 101 Life Safety Code, NFPA 909: Code for the
Protection of Cultural Resources Properties – Museums, Libraries, and Places of
Worship. The revised code was approved
in 2009. You should be aware of the
following standards and you should work with your local fire marshal to be sure
that you are in compliance.
There are two aspects of this amendment that
you should be aware of:
As historic artifacts, a destructive burn test and/or the
application of fire-retardant chemicals are not recommended by accepted
preservation practice.
2. However, in
order to qualify for an exemption to Life Safety Code #101, the following safeguards must be implemented. These include, but are not limited to:
Prohibition
of open flames (i.e. candles, lamps, and smoking)
Avoiding
the use of heat producing appliances such as food and beverage preparation
equipment within the room
Adding
a fire watch during events when there are large groups of people
A
recommendation to replace light bulbs on stage with cool burning lamps such as
a fluorescent or LED, with no lights, electrical devices or cables located with
1 meter of the historic artifact.
Appendix 11.2.4
11.2.4:
Fire-retardant treatment of historically significant fabric shall not be
required where such treatment will cause damage to the fabric. This provision shall apply only on an
object-by-object basis and where alternative protection measures are approved.
Where historically significant artifacts
such as painted stage drops, tapestries and antique flags are displayed in
public gathering places there is a need to balance fire and life safety
requirements with the preservation needs of the artifacts. Life Safety Standards including NFPA #101
Life Safety Code mandate fire retardant treatments for fabrics that are used in
gathering places, with NFPA 701 Standard Method of Fire Tests for Flame
Resistant Textiles and Films referenced as a test protocol. NFPA 701 requires a destructive burn test of
a fabric sample to verify compliance with the standard however this action will
cause permanent damage to the material and is not recommended by accepted
preservation practice. Additionally,
specific chemical treatments that may be applied to reduce combustibility may
also result in irreversible harm fabrics.
None-the-less there is a need to protect artifacts and the locations in
which they are housed from fire, and safeguards must be implemented for
situations where artifacts are displayed in assembly spaces. These should include but not be limited to:
prohibiting open flames (i.e. candles, lamps, and smoking), avoiding the use of
heat producing appliances such as food and beverage preparation equipment within
the room, or adding a fire watch where the artifact is located. The use of cool burning lamps such as a
fluorescent or LED within the space is recommended with no lights, electrical
devices or cables located within 1 meter (3 ft) distance of the artifact. The placement of a combustible artifact
within an assembly space should be approved by the authority having
jurisdiction. The AHJ should consult
with disciplines that have expertise in preservation and protection of
artifacts.”
Understanding Painted Illusion for Historic Theaters
It is crucial to understand painted illusion for nineteenth-century
and twentieth-century stages when planning the preservation of historic scenery.
Painted illusion was used in a variety of venues, including theaters, opera
houses, cinemas, music academies, city halls, schools, lodge rooms, armories, coliseums,
and hippodromes. None of it was intended to be viewed up close, or on a museum
wall.
Leg drop, cut drop and backdrop by Sosman & Landis Scene Painting Studio for the Scottish Rite Theatre in Santa Fe, New Mexico, 192.
Many extant backdrops were produced as part of a set. There would
be a combination of backdrops, cut drop, leg drops, and borders, or wings,
shutters, roll drops and borders. Flat profile pieces were added for painted dimension.
A proscenium opening with painted grand teasers and tormentors were often
permanently positioned to frame the onstage setting. The level of detail for each painted piece shifted
as the scenes were positioned from upstage to downstage.
Before you decide to formulate a maintenance plan or the restoration of any historic scenery, understand the past; past materials, past techniques, past stage systems and past venues. All provide much needed information. Choosing an appropriate path for any scenery maintenance or restoration is akin to the saying, “measure twice, cut once.” In almost every case you have only one opportunity to do this right.
Here is a link to my youtube video about the topic:
The Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado, on February 7, 2020.
By 5:30 P.M. on February 7, 2020, we had catalogued over 95
scenic pieces, as well as setting up four interior settings. The snow was coming down harder than ever as
we crossed the street to the Silver Dollar Saloon. Over the course of five days,
we shifted, documented, and reorganized all of the historic scenery on the
Tabor Opera House stage, with the exception of the contemporary stage settings.
We did not have an opportunity to document those painted after 1980.
Cottage delivered to the Tabor Opera House by Kansas City Scenic Co. 1902Painted detail. Cottage delivered to the Tabor Opera House by Kansas City Scenic Co. 1902Two city buildings, one from 1888 (left) and one from 1902 (right). The one on the left has wheels for also using in grooves as wings.Bottom of city flat picture above on left.
The 1902 historic settings that we assembled included a center
door fancy, Gothic interior, plain setting and prison scene. There were partial
collections that we did not have try to assemble this time. This number does
not include any of the original scenery delivered to the opera house before the
renovation in 1901, pieces that are currently stored in the attic.
Of all the historic scenery collections in the United States
that I have encountered, this is the most unique. There are others that are
larger and more impressive, as well as others that have been moved to off site
storage units to preserve their posterity. But the scenery at the Tabor Opera House
spans decades and remains on site despite new owners and building renovations.
I have written extensively about the resale of scenery collections throughout
the late-nineteenth and early twentieth century, using examples across the
country. Used scenery ended up in new locations for many reasons. For example, used scenery was left at the
final destination after a touring show closed. Used scenery from touring shows
was purchased by smaller venues in need of stock scenery, or those expanding
their original stock. Used scenery was
retrofitted and sold to new theaters without their knowledge. In other words, the
purchase of used scenery was not an uncommon practice. In the past three decades, I have repeatedly
identified used scenery collections still in use at various venues.
In many ways the Tabor Opera House exemplifies what occurred
across the country during the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. Like
many other performance venues, they continued to update their stock scenery,
yet never really replaced it. What makes the Tabor collection remarkable,
however, is that everything is still on site despite the venue changing hands
and undergoing extensive renovations and structural changes. Even scenery that
was manufactured for a previous stage, one without a fly loft, was retained
after a remodel. I cannot wrap my mind around the fact that the
wing-and-shutter scenery was not thrown away, given away, sold, or repurposed.
This is extremely atypical, as their old scenery designed for grooves was not ever
retrofitted for the new fly system, just kept.
Hand-carved for city flat with wheels for grooves in 1879 stage before fly loft was added.City flat delivered to the Tabor Opera House in 1888.
Keep in mind that the entire building was renovated in 1901,
both the auditorium and stage house were enlarged. The roof was ripped off and a fly loft added;
yet the smaller scenery designed for grooves remained on site, unaltered and
tucked away. For what purpose, and why
did they just store it in the attic? Sentimental attachment? Too hard to dispose of at the time? We may never know the reason as to why the
original scenery was kept.
I have often referenced used scenery collections, such as the
1901 scenery and stage machinery at the Scottish Rite Theatre in Little Rock.
Two decades after the original installation of this collection by Sosman &
Landis, it was transported and installed at the Scottish Rite theater in
Pasadena, California, where it is still used today. That scenery was manufactured around the same
time as the Tabor Opera House’s center door fancy set. Other examples of used
scenery collections that I have explored include Salina, KS, Yankton, SD, and
Deadwood, SD. Used scenery and stage machinery were carefully transported,
refurbished and installed in second, and sometimes third, venues. We were an
industry built on the repurposing of not only ideas, but also artifacts.
And then there is the sheer volume of scenery at the Tabor
Opera House in Leadville, Colorado. There are almost 100 historic pieces on
stage and dozens more in the attic, representing a scope of American scenic art
in one venue that is unheard of. The Tabor’s 1879 through 1902 scenery
collections that I examined this week did not include all of the modern scenery
manufactured for melodramas and community productions after 1980.
The Tabor Opera House is a living history museum, unlike any
of its kind in the United States, with wonderful examples of the ever-shifting stage
aesthetic, all situated in one place. This is a destination location for theatre
historians, practitioners, and art enthusiasts to visit. But the venue needs
financial help, here is the link if you want to contribute to a good cause, as
volunteer labor can only do so much: https://www.taboroperahouse.net/donate
Double-painted scene. Front has plain interior and back has prison scene.Double-painted scene. Front has plain interior and back has prison scene.Three sets of folding wood wings to accompany exterior settings at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado. These pieces were produced by the Kansas City Scenic Co. in 1902.
Then we top off this remarkable collection with its
extensive artistic provenance and stewardship. In 1933, the 1902 scenery collection
was catalogued, by theatre folk who knew what they doing; the project was led
my Muriel Sibell Wolle. The fact that this 1933 documentation is digitally
accessible to the general public is also unusual in its own right. We have
dozens of performing arts collections across the country that are almost
impossible to access for general research without a site visit.
The preservation of the Tabor Opera House’s physical
structure and artifacts were later spearheaded by a Minnesota school teacher,
who purchased and began the preservation of the building in 1955. Then her
daughter, Evelyn E. Livingston Furman, included the history surrounding the
construction of the Tabor Opera House in a series of books.
The United States has thousands of examples of historic
scenic art collections located in opera house, social halls, cinemas, fraternal
theaters, and other performance venues.
We have examples of painted scenery that range from fraternal ceremonies
to famous film sets, yet nothing can compare to what is owned by this small
mountain community in Leadville, Colorado, when considering historic scope.
Two flats at the Tabor Opera House dating from 1902.Six jungle flats stacked against the upstage wall at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado.
The Tabor Opera House scenery collection has been stored in
less than ideal conditions, complete with roof leaks and renovations. That
being said the low humidity and high elevation helped a lot. The scenery has also
seen plenty of use over the past century; maybe this is why the collection has
been treasured and kept over the years.
In many ways, what is the point of preserving historic scenery if it is
never used again? For a painted scene to remain on a roll, or tacked to the
wall of a lobby diminishes the overall significance of a piece. It is like
taking off the original frame of an artwork, one carefully selected by the
artist to display his work. The theater’s environment is intricately linked to
the scenic art; these pieces were designed and manufactured to be viewed on a stage,
placed a specific distance from the viewer.
To observe them up close in a museum destroys the illusion and purpose
of each piece.
Painted detail above door on plain interior setting at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado.Painted detail above door on plain interior setting at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado.Plain interior setting at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado.
I have a month’s worth of work left to go to complete the
documentation of the piece that have been catalogued, each page based on my site
notes and photographs. The easy part of the project is done. There are condition reports, historical
analyses, replacement appraisals, and a collections care document to prepare. It is a daunting task, especially knowing
that more clues remain hidden in the attic of the Tabor Opera House. The last
time the collection was catalogued was in 1933 and I have big shoes to fill. At
that time, the sets were documented in their entirety, but the individual state
of each artifact was not examined. Muriel Sibell Wolle looked at the big
picture, and this was very important for all research that would follow. Her
“big picture” provided a guide map for those wishing to understand the history
of scenery at the Tabor Opera House.
Without her studies, my work this week would have been difficult at
best; I would have been working “blind.”
In addition to Wolle’s contribution is the continued stewardship
of those who followed her, including volunteers for this project. The careful
documentation and cataloguing of all on site artifacts is just one more chapter
in the Tabor Opera House history. One small example of this stewardship
included the actions of volunteer Robyn; she found an old stage brace marked “Tabor
Opera House” at a local antique store, purchased it and returned it home to the
theater. All of the artifacts are finding their way home, as if drawn by a
magnetic force.
The preservation of the old theater has remained a community
endeavor since its inception. Even in the 1890s, when Horace Tabor had to let
his prized possession go, there were those in the community who took over the
care of his grand building. The Tabor Opera House, Augusta Tabor, Baby Doe and
the Matchless Mine are all entwined with the captivating history of Leadville.
Both Leadville natives and transplants have equally contributed to the
preservation of this remarkable building.
Painted detail on folding wood wing at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado. This piece was painted by scenic artists at the Kansas City Scenic Co in 1902.Painted detail on folding wood wing at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado. This piece was painted by scenic artists at the Kansas City Scenic Co in 1902.
The Grand Forks Masonic Temple was home to the Scottish Rite Theatre.
In January 1915 Thomas G. Moses
wrote, “Grand Forks, N. Dakota Masonic job came in early and furnished a lot of
work for the boys.” In the past, I have erroneously stated that the scenery was
delivered in 1914. I based this date on Moses’ Masonic resume, where he listed
the Grand Forks Scottish Rite scenery as a 1914 installation; that was likely
the year when the contract was negotiated as work started at the beginning of
1915.
The Scottish Rite theatre in the Grand Forks Masonic Temple.The Scottish Rite theatre in the Grand Forks Masonic Temple.The Scottish Rite theatre in the Grand Forks Masonic Temple, with scenery and stage machinery by Sosman & Landis studio of Chicago, Illinois.
I first visited the Masonic
Temple in Grand Forks when all hell broke loose. What I mean is that the hell
drop ripped in half and I had to piece it back together. It was a fun project
that prepared me for a Pasadena Scottish Rite project, their crucifixion scene
also ripped in half. I am getting quite
good at repairing this particular type of damage.
Damaged area of the hell scene at the Masonic Temple in Grand Forks, North Dakota.Repaired area of the damaged hell drop at the Masonic Temple in Grand Forks, North Dakota.Detail of repair before paint touch up at the Masonic Temple in Grand Forks, North Dakota.Detail of repair after paint touch up at the Masonic Temple in Grand Forks, North Dakota.Repaired scene at the Masonic Temple in Grand Forks, North Dakota.Damaged area of the crucifixion scene at the Scottish Rite theatre in Pasadena, California.Reinforced seams and center patch crucifixion scene at the Scottish Rite theatre in Pasadena, California. The seams were also separating and need reinforcement.Repaired crucifixion scene at the Scottish Rite theatre in Pasadena, California.
Since my first visit to Grand
Forks, I also evaluated the scenery collection twice; the second time was after
a fire. The Grand Forks Masonic Temple has a history with fire. In 2014, I received a call from about
possible smoke damage to the Scottish Rite scenery collection. A fire had
started in the basement and smoke filled the stage area. Miraculously, the fire
was put out before reaching the stage area, but the scenery became covered with
a residue.
A scene delivered by Sosman & Landis to the Scottish Rite theatre in Grand Forks, North Dakota, 1915.A scene delivered by Sosman & Landis to the Scottish Rite theatre in Grand Forks, North Dakota, 1915.A scene delivered by Sosman & Landis to the Scottish Rite theatre in Grand Forks, North Dakota, 1915.A scene delivered by Sosman & Landis to the Scottish Rite theatre in Grand Forks, North Dakota, 1915.A scene delivered by Sosman & Landis to the Scottish Rite theatre in Grand Forks, North Dakota, 1915.A scene delivered by Sosman & Landis to the Scottish Rite theatre in Grand Forks, North Dakota, 1915.A scene delivered by Sosman & Landis to the Scottish Rite theatre in Grand Forks, North Dakota, 1915.A scene delivered by Sosman & Landis to the Scottish Rite theatre in Grand Forks, North Dakota, 1915.Back view of a scene delivered by Sosman & Landis to the Scottish Rite theatre in Grand Forks, North Dakota, 1915.
The first mention of a fire that
partly burned the Grand Forks Masonic Temple was in 1903. On Jan. 8. 1903, a
special message to the “Star Tribune” reported, “At 10 o’clock last evening the
new Masonic Temple was gutted by fire. The fire originated from an explosion of
gas in Spriggs Bros. store on the first floor. Damage to the building, $5,000;
Spriggs Bros., $1,500; C. A. Rhinehardt, hardware, first floor, $2,000 by
water, fully insured.
The Masons recovered, and by
1910, two stories were added to the Grand Forks Masonic Temple (Bismark
Tribune, 19 June 1910, page 5). On Nov. 8, 1911, the “Grand Forks Herald”
announced “Many Masons in the City. Scottish Rite Reunion Brings Them Together
– Under Charter Hereafter” (page 5). The article noted, “There are a large
number of Masons in the city attending the reunion of the Scottish Rite bodies,
which commenced yesterday and continues till tomorrow. Work in the several
bodies is being given. The fact that the Grand Forks Scottish Rite lodges were
recently granted charters by the supreme council is the cause of added interest
in the present as from now on the local bodies will operate under a regular
charter rather than under dispensation, as in the past.”
On Jan. 18, 1912, fire destroyed
the interior of the Grand Forks Masonic Temple. Fire broke out in the basement
of the A. B. Rheinhart hardware store, located in the Masonic Temple building (Courier
Democrat, Langdon, ND, 25 Jan. 1912, page 2). The fire was supposedly started
from spontaneous combustion in the paint storeroom of the Rheinhart hardware
store. The Masonic Temple building was practically a total loss, with the lodge
bodies having lost all of the furnishings. The loss of the building was estimated
at $50,000, with the lodges’ bodies losing $10,000 worth of properties. Four
days later, the Grand Forks Scottish Rite bodies opened their annual mid-winter
reunion in the Elk building, with a class of eighteen taking the degrees. The
“Grand Forks Herald” reported, “The Grand Forks Masons were compelled to do
some rapid work as a result of the destruction of their home last Thursday
night, but they were able to get into shape so that the reunion was commenced
on schedule. Immediately the Scottish Rite bodies complete their work the
Shriners will hold a ceremonial session.” What a resilient group! By 1913, the
Grand Forks Scottish Rite was meeting at the Kem Temple, home of the Shrine
(Oakes Times, 2 Oct. 1913, page 7).
On June 24, 1915, the “Courier
Democrat reported, “Masonic Temple Dedicated. New Structure at Grand Forks
Considered Perfect. The Grand Forks Masonic temple costing more than $150,000,
was dedicated by grand lodge Masons of North Dakota. Rev. J. K. Burleson of
Grand Forks presided and W. L. Stockwell of Fargo made the dedicatory address.
Grand Forks’ new temple is regarded as the most complete and perfectly
appointed Masonic structure in the Northwest outside of the Twin Cities” (page
2).
That same year, the “Dickinson
Press” announced a new charitable endeavor by Scottish Rite Masons in Grand
Forks (Dickinson, ND, 10 Oct 1915, page 4). The article reported, “In Grand
Forks the Scottish Rite Masons have started a movement for a free children’s
clinic at which all the needy and deserving children of the county are to be
given medical attendance free of charge. Why is not this a good move for
Dickinson? There are a few diseased and crippled children in every community
who could be cured of illness and physical defects if the physicians would band
together and give their services. It is believed that they would if their
attention was called to the matter, and in this way a number of unfortunate
children would get a fair start in life.”
Much has been written about Jesse Cox, the scenic artist purported
to be the inventor of the Diamond Dye process for scenery. Cox’s obituary even
credits the artist as the “originator of commercial dye painted scenery for
theatrical productions.” His obituary details Cox’s process that involved
mixing dye with warm water, making it “possible for scenery to be much lighter
in weight and transported more conveniently.” I highly doubt that Cox was the
first scenic artist to use commercial dyes on scenery, especially when looking
at his birthdate and timeline. However, I do believe that he popularized the
process, if only through sheer self-promotion.
Jesse Cox sitting in one of his sets. Image from Michael Kramme’s “Palimpset” article “Opera House Illusions: Jesse Cox and Theatrical Scenery” (Vol. 71, No. 4, pages 154-172). Jesse Cox. Image from Michael Kramme’s “Palimpset” article “Opera House Illusions: Jesse Cox and Theatrical Scenery” (Vol. 71, No. 4, pages 154-172).
There is also no question that the Diamond Dye
manufacturers would have been thrilled to have Cox as a poster boy for their
company, however there is no clear evidence that suggests Cox was the inventor
of the process. Even the Jesse Cox Scenic Company’s early twentieth-century
catalogue makes no mention of their specializing in dye scenery or Cox’s
reputation as the inventor of this unique scene painting process. I have to wonder when the Diamond Dye process
of painting scenery became specifically associated with this artist, as the
earliest mention that I have uncovered to date is 1936. To all indications,
Cox’s story was shared at a time when he was reflecting on his own history, and
contributions to the world of scenic art. I am reminded of the erroneous credit
given to Lee Lash for his invention of the ad drop. Over time, facts blur and
history is carefully shaped by those who gain the most from its telling.
Here is a little background about Cox that was included
in his 1961 obituary:
Jesse Matthew Cox was born on March 3, 1878, in Seneca, Illinois, the son of Mr. and Mrs. Spencer Cox. One of five sons born to the couple. His eldest brother was James, and his younger brothers were George, Chauncy and Spencer Jr. The family moved to Estherville in 1891. At the time, Jesse was at the age of 13 years old. Initially, he worked for his father, but soon became interested within the next three years, going on the road as an actor at the age of 16. He initially toured with the [Warren G.] Noble Dramatic Shows of Chariton. As many young performers involved with touring productions at the time, Cox also performed as a musician and assisted in other technical duties. It was while on tour that Cox became interested in scene painting, likely out of the company’s necessity for additional settings. There is no indication that he became a scenic artist by going through any traditional training or apprenticeship program.
After touring, Cox worked as an itinerant artist in
Chicago, Minneapolis and St. Paul, spending several seasons in the Twin Cities.
It is reported that Cox returned to Estherville to settle down, painting “great
quantities of scenery” there and shipping much of it to California and Texas.
Local newspapers cite that his return to Estherville coincided with the decline
of demand for road shows. In Estherville, Cox started a scene painting studio
in the old Lough opera house, the same venue where he once worked as a prop boy
before going on the road with Noble. Cox had little luck with studio locations
throughout the duration of his career, as the first was destroyed by fire and
the second razed by a tornado. Cox’s third studio was located at 606 N. 12th
St. There he worked with his son Robert, primarily making scenery for theaters
and high schools, but also completed many sign painting projects. The firm’s
business gradually expanded to include neon signs. His company continually
diversified as the demand for painted scenery continued to decline. This was
the case with most scenic studios that survived the Great Depression. In regard
to neon signs produced by the studio, in 1942 the Estherville Daily News
announced, “The Jesse Cox studio has been busy the past week building the first
complete neon sign to be fabricated in Estherville” (22 Sept 1942, page 1). The
sign was made for the Hossack Motor Company.
Cox’s scenic art and performance career was supplemented with entertainment news. He and his brother George established and edited the Opera House Reporter, an entertainment industry trade paper, from 1898 to 1907. In the greater scheme of things the establishment of the publication coincides with his development of the Diamond Dye process and touring on the road. The dates just don’t add up when compared to newspaper accounts. The Opera House Reporter included a variety of information, such as office reports from theaters and general theatre advertisements. The Cox brothers are also credited with running the first movie projector in the state of Iowa. They were quite an innovative and busy pair.
Of his personal life, Cox was twice married, first to
Mabel Gerberick and second to Carrie Beaty in 1939.
Cox died at the age of 83, a longtime businessman and
member of the Estherville City Council. His health was failing for some time,
with his passing being attributed to the “complications of advanced age.” Cox
was an active member with the Knights of Pythias and the Benevolent and
Protective Order of Elks. His assumed
high offices in each fraternity, with achieving the Elk’s rank of Exalted
Ruler.
Cox’s professional and personal memorabilia are on display at the Theatre Museum of Repertoire Americana in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. Even his accordion is on display. The museum’s library includes an article written in 1990 by Michael Kramme for Palimpset, a publication advertised as Iowa’s popular history magazine (Winter issue). His article “Opera House Illusions: Jesse Cox and Theatrical Scenery” was included in Vol. 71, No. 4 (pages 154-172). Kramme credits Cox as “the inventor of a system of painting theatrical scenery that revolutionized the industry.” Unfortunately Kramme gives no specific technical information or dates to support this statement. Again, I question the legitimacy of Cox’s claim to fame as the inventor of the dye system of painting scenery.
The earliest mention that I encountered in my research describing Cox’s dye process is in an article from the Estherville Enterprise on 9 Sept. 1936 (page 2). The article reports, “There is a very interesting story connected with the [Jesse Cox Scenic Studio]. Jesse Cox, the owner and operator, when a very young man was a trouper with Nobles’ Stock company for seven years. While following the road and assisting in handling massive curtains, Mr. Cox conceived the idea of painting scenery with diamond dyes. These could be folded and packed in a trunk and were much easier to carry. During the summer of 1899 Mr. Noble sent Mr. Cox to Estherville on pay and in the old low opera house, the young man designed and painted the first diamond dye scenery, now popular the world over. Later Mr. Cox closed with the Noble Company and started the business of scenery painting. He has shipped scenery to every state in the Union and from New York City to San Francisco can be found scenery labeled in the corner, The Jesse Cox Scenic Studio, Estherville, Iowa. The largest scene Mr. Cox ever panted was 24 x 150 feet for the Robinson Bro. Circus. Many of the largest traveling companies have used Mr. Cox’s scenery but the outstanding feature is the fact that he conceived the idea of diamond dye scenery which is now used extensively throughout the world.”
My research does not suggest that Diamond Dyes were that
extensively used for scenery production in the United States at the time.
What I found interesting, however, is that the 1900 census lists Cox’s profession as “actor” and not “artist” or “scene painter,” as was the case with other scenic artists at the time. By 1900, he was editing the Opera House Reporter and supposedly running a scenic studio, as well as working in other cities throughout the Midwest.
In Kramme’s article he describes, “Cox developed and
patented a process of painting scenery with heated dye rather than paint.” However,
some of his scenery on display at the Theatre Museum is clearly painted with
dry pigment and his paint table has pots of dry pigment too. In terms of a
patent, there is a Jesse Cox that designed a hay knife. There are quite a few “Jesse
Cox” individuals living at the same time in the United States. Kramme goes on to
explain, “His technique remained a trade secret. But the result, vivid color
that would not peel, crack, or rub off, was shared nation-wide as owners of
opera houses and managers of acting companies bought lavish sets of scenery.” I
am perplexed that his use of Diamond Dyes on cotton sheeting would require any
trade secret. The preparation for dyes in scene painting is pretty
consistent. Furthermore, aniline dyes
had been around for a while and were widely used in the theatre industry for variety
of effects. By the 1860s chemical aniline dyes were readily available. The
process for preparing dye to use in scenic art is not like dying yarn or clothing
fabrics where different mordants baths shift final color results when fixing
the dye.
Jesse Cox’s paint table with containers of dry pigment. Image from Michael Kramme’s “Palimpset” article “Opera House Illusions: Jesse Cox and Theatrical Scenery” (Vol. 71, No. 4, pages 154-172).
I also have to point out an alternative to dye in theatrical scenery. When applied properly, and in thin coats, dry pigments result in vivid colors that will not peel, crack or rub off. The English practice of glazing scenery results in lightweight and foldable scenery. See past posts that distinguish between the two schools of scenic art that were established in the United States. When using thin coats of dry pigment, the fabric remains pliable. I known this first hand because the scenery that I transported to Europe this summer in my luggage was folded and crushed during transport without any harm to the painted composition or permanent wrinkles. The only problem is when dry pigment is applied in thick coats or with strong size water. Thick coats of paint also make scenery heavy to transport.
In 1912,
Thomas G. Moses recorded that Sosman & Landis delivered Scottish Rite
scenery to Santa Fe, New Mexico. Santa Fe Masons purchased the original
McAlester scenery; this is the first collection, as the second McAlester
scenery collection is now in Salina, Kansas. The purchase of a used scenery
collection was to get the membership used to degree productions. Once the
building was dedicated, the “practice” scenery was sent to the Scottish Rite
Charleston, South Carolina.
Two weeks
before the Santa Fe Cathedral’s dedication, ”The Deming Headlight” reported, “On
the evening of the 17th of November, the Scottish Rite Masons of New
Mexico will dedicate their magnificent cathedral in the city of Santa Fe. On
the 18th, 19th and 20th, of November the
dedication class of aspirants for Scottish Rite honors will see the beautiful
degrees of the Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry conferred from
a great auditorium 58×72 feet which has a seating capacity of 600. The
dedication on the evening of the 17th will be a memorable occasion
to all Masons in New Mexico since it will formally open the most beautiful home
consecrated to Masonry in the southwest. The cost of the cathedral, when
finally completes with the equipment, will be about quarter of a million dollars”
(Deming, New Mexico, November 1, 1912, page 6).
Wood setting at the Santa Fe Scottish RiteWood setting at the Santa Fe Scottish RiteThe secret vault setting at the Santa Fe Scottish Rite.Brown’s Special System at the Santa Fe Scottish Rite.
I am not
going into the entire history of the Santa Fe Scottish Rite for this post. After
restoring the scenery collection in phases from 2002 to 2005, I was asked to
write about the theatre in an upcoming publication. In 2014, I began a project
that resulted in “The Santa Fe Scottish Rite Temple: Freemasonry, Architecture
and Theatre” (Museum of New Mexico Press, 2018). The story of the Santa
Fe Scottish Rite is neatly compiled with both historic images and stunning photographs
by Jo Whaley. Here is the link
to the book on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Santa-Scottish-Rite-Temple-Architecture/dp/0890136335/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=waszut-barrett&qid=1570201389&sr=8-1
Photographer Jo Whaley during the Santa Fe Scottish Rite Temple book photo shoot.Photographer Jo Whaley during the Santa Fe Scottish Rite Temple book photo shoot.Book signing at the Santa Fe Scottish Rite, June 24, 2018. From left to right: Jo Whaley, Wendy Waszut-Barrett, Khristaan Villela, and Rick Hendricks.
My fascination with the Santa Fe Scottish Rite Theatre began
early in 2002. I was sitting in Lance Brockman’s office at the University of
Minnesota when he received a call from the Santa Fe Scottish Rite. They were
looking for someone to assess and repair their scenery collection; he recommended
me. At the time, I was still in graduate
school, a perpetual student stuck in ABD (all but dissertation) mode. My
husband and I were both in school and raising a five-year old daughter. Fortunately,
my folks were both retired and helped us out a lot. When I explained the Santa
Fe opportunity, they planned their next vacation near Santa Fe, New Mexico.
They frequently traveled south in their RV, camping all over the United States.
Me with our daughter Isabelle in 2002 near Santa Fe, New Mexico
I made the long drive with Isabelle from Minnesota to New
Mexico that February. In my little red Ford Escort, we ventured from the snowy
plains of Minnesota to the arid mesas of New Mexico. Isabelle and I stayed with
my folks in an RV campground, just west of Albuquerque, for over a week. During
the day, Isabelle and my parents found exciting things to do, while I drove the
north on the Turquoise Trail to Santa Fe. In Santa Fe, I spent full days
evaluating both the scenery and costume collections. A few times, my father
came with me, helping raise and lower scenery, or just sitting and enjoying the
art.
The Santa Fe Scottish Rite scenery restoration during 2002The Santa Fe Scottish Rite scenery restoration during 2002
Four months later, I was leading a large group of locals
during the first phase of the scenery restoration. That summer, I also began
the Scottish Rite scenery restoration in St. Paul, Minnesota. The two collections were created within two
years of each other and were almost identical. The only major difference was
that the St. Paul collection had moved once to a new location, so it shared
much more wear and tear.
The Santa Fe Scottish Rite scenery restoration during 2005The Santa Fe Scottish Rite scenery restoration during 2005
For each phase of restoration in Santa Fe, my husband and
daughter joined me. Nothing was better than staying in the dormitory of the
beautiful pink building, a stone’s throw from Santa Fe’s central plaza and
dozens of trails. We experienced the various summer markets, Canyon Art Road,
the Palace of the Governors, opera season, the children’s museum, and many
nearby hikes. It did not matter that I
was working 10 to 12 hour days, as the crews were fun, the project interesting,
and we had two days off each week to play.
There is something beyond Santa Fe’s beautiful scenery
collection, ornate architectural décor, and stunning central courtyard. There
is an irrepressible energy, not only inside the building, but also within in
the city. I travel a lot. I love
experiencing different people, cultures and food, easily making friends along
the way. When I first arrived at the top of the Santa Fe Scottish Rite steps
during February 2002, however, it was different; it was like returning home
after a long absence. I experienced a wide array of emotions that ranged from
gratitude and relief to excitement and sheer joy. I would give anything to go
back and relive those few summers.
View from the top of the Santa Fe Scottish Rite steps.Sosman & Landis scenery collection at the Santa Fe Scottish RiteScenery and stage machinery by Sosman & Landis at the Santa Fe Scottish Rite
I have felt at home in many Scottish Rite temples. There is
a specific smell that all of these places share in common, regardless of
climate or regional characteristics. While
working, I frequently encounter a cool air that carries a slight musty smell.
The scent is a combination stale musk and the metallic ting of dry pigment.
Historic theaters, whether they are opera houses or Scottish
Rite theaters have a residual energy that lingers about the stage machinery and
scenery. You just have to pay attention. I have encountered this in other
performance spaces too, not just Masonic ones. It is connected to the original
installation. Although hard to explain, it is as if everything is just silently
waiting for another performance. Once these elements are removed or altered,
the dynamic of the stage changes; it is as if the soul has left the space.
There are many options when restoring historic scenery. A multitude of factors determine the specific course of action, including age, condition, fabric type, paint layers, future handling and overall use. Does the backdrop simply hang on a wall or does a community theatre group use it repeatedly? Is it a roll drop or a fly drop? How often is the scene displayed or actively used by those either familiar or unfamiliar with its history? What’s the artistic provenance of the scene?
We all make decisions based on the available information at the time, and combine it with our training, knowledge and experience, to create a course of action.
When I examine the work of others, I am hesitant to comment. Unless the techniques and materials used during the restoration have somehow irreparably damaged the original artwork, I try to understand why another selected a particular course of action.
There are many ways to clean and repair a historic scene. It was one such horrific repair that prompted the initial storyline for “Tales of a Scenic artist and Scholar.” I was shocked to see hot melt glue used to attach netting to a historically significant scene, immediately recognizing that the artwork had been destroyed. Then, as now, I wondered at what point the individuals doing the restoration realized that they had no idea of appropriate techniques, or the significance of the artifact. Did they care, or even understand that they were destroying history?
I decided to raise the awareness of the scenery’s significance, especially the artist, Thomas G. Moses. My hope was that this botched restoration in Bloomington, Minnesota, could at least be used as a warning. If we understand the cultural significance of an artwork, there is a greater chance for its survival.
I am compelled to comment on another restoration that I recently encountered in Wilmington, North Carolina. The repair of water damage was partially concealed with Sennelier oil pastels. In regard to scenery restoration, there continues to be active discussion about the recommendation and selection of stable pigments and binders. A variety of products can match the color of dry pigment, but none match the completely matte finish of diluted hide glue. All that being said, I have never encountered the use of oil pastels on a historic backdrop before.
Application of oil pastels to the 1858 Russel Smith drop in Wilmington, North Carolina.
Application of oil pastels to the 1858 Russel Smith drop in Wilmington, North Carolina.
Application of oil pastels to the 1858 Russel Smith drop in Wilmington, North Carolina.
Application of oil pastels to the 1858 Russel Smith drop in Wilmington, North Carolina.
Here are my observations regarding why the use of oil pastels may not be the best idea for scenery restoration. The first is the “oil” part; the “coloring” of a drop with an oil-based crayon leaves a greasy residue to the surface that reflects light. It is incredibly visible to the trained eye from even ten feet away. In a product review about artist grade oil pastels, the following comment was made about Sennelier: “Their texture is literally like painting with lipstick.” For the rest of this article, here is the link: http://www.explore-oil-pastels-with-robert-sloan.com/sennelier_review.html
Sennelier oil pastels, pad and fixative.
It has always been the texture that made me hesitant to handle oil pastels; the greasy product left on your hands during application. Now, imagine that greasy product on the matte surface of an historic scene.
Oil pastels sit on the surface of the fabric and do not blend with the original paint. So any in painting or over-painting cannot conceal damage or really diminish a repair. To achieve a similar hue and value with oil pastels, it takes multiple applications of different colors. Oil pastels cannot be premixed to match the color, tested and applied. One needs to “layer” several colors, thus causing the “repaired” area to be thicker than its surround.
Furthermore, the application of color when using oil pastels is not uniform. The color “catches” on the texture of the fabric or repair, accentuating some damage. Every flaw, even the tooth of the fabric, is highlighted.
In short, I would not recommend the use of oil pastels to repair any historic backdrop.
According to Virginia Lewis in her book “Russell Smith, Romantic Realist, “ in 1872, the artist Russell Smith painted a replica of an earlier work. In 1857 Smith created the entr’acte drop curtain for the Academy of Music in Baltimore, Maryland. This replica composition was described in the “Baltimore Sun” during 1907. That year, the article reported, “a curtain, painted by the late Russell Smith, famous the world over as a curtain painting artist, has just been hung. The curtain, painted more than a quarter of a century ago, has been retouched around the borders so that it will harmonize with the decorations of the proscenium arch.” In other words, they added colors to unify the old painting with the new interior décor.
This parallels what happened to the 1858 drop curtain at Thalian Hall in Wilmington, North Carolina. The Smith curtain was enlarged and altered at some point. I studied the additions and alterations over the course of a few hours while sitting in the Thalian Hall lobby on April 23, 2019.
What initially struck me was the addition of black paint. The reason for my surprise is that black is seldom used in 19th century and early 20th scene painting, unless it is for lettering on an advertisement curtain. The darkest color is typically Van Dyke Brown, especially for shadow areas and it reflects light better than black. For the Smith curtain in Wilmington, opaque black shadow lines were added by a second artist well after the original composition was painted. The black was added to the painted ornament on the frame, the center medallion and the statue on the right side of the composition. However, black was not the only new paint introduced to the original painting, as both a red glaze and green glaze were added to the frame. These two colors were likely an attempt to “harmonize” the drop with the decorations of the proscenium arch, similar to what happened at the Academy of Music in Baltimore when Smith’s curtain was rehung in 1907.
In regard to the Thalian Hall drop curtain, the center medallion was repainted in a style inconsistent with the remainder of the composition; specifically, the portrait and lettering are of an inferior quality. The inferior brushwork not only applies to the actual features Thalia, but also the lettering of “Thalia.” For both, the painting style is much more rudimentary than the remainder of the work, especially the quality of the lettering. The lettering “Thalia” is not centered and even touches the bottom of the portrait. Furthermore, the font is muddy and the brushstrokes unrefined.
There is also the problem with the use of black for background for the portrait that dominates the entire composition. The black immediately draws focus from the rest of the composition. It is likely that the second, and currently artist, recognized his mistake as soon as he stepped back from his work. I always hate to presume what an artist was thinking when creating a painting; we cannot know what was going on in another’s mind during the time of artist creation. However, here is my hypothesis, as I too have unwittingly placed myself in a similar position. After adding a detail that was too dark for the painting, you panic a bit, and think “Oops! Well, I’ll just add a little more of that same color here, and here, to make it look like as if it belongs.” This is always mistake, as a once small inconsistency grows into a substantially larger problem.
In an attempt to unify the work, the artist took the same black color from the medallion and added little touches here and there throughout the lower third of the painting to make it seem like it was part of the original color scheme. Unfortunately, the artist did not have the same ‘hand” as Smith. It is his inferior technique that gives away the over painting in addition to the color. The artist who added the black lines did not use a straight edge to draw the straight black lines. The remainder of the composition clearly shows that all of the straight lines were painted while using a straight edge. Without a straight edge, the lines waiver and suggest an artist’s inexperience; this still happens in scenic art today too.
Example of a black line added by a later artist to the Russell Smith drop curtain at the Thalian Hall in Wilmington, North Carolina.
The lettering of Thalia is inconsistent wit the remainder of the painting.
The flat black added to the statue obliterates the original shadow shapes an is inconsistent with the remainder of the composition.
The same can be said for the shadowing of the other ornamentation along the border where black is applied. The little “U” shadows placed at the bottom are also inconsistent and sporadic, unlike the remainder of the original shadow work in deep brown and sienna glazes. The black also reads as opaque, unlike the remainder of the painted ornament around the frame. Smith’s style harkens back to the English tradition of glazing. The center medallion and black accents are opaque and inconsistent with this tradition.
In addition to the over painting, the width of the entire curtain was extended and the bottom border was repainted to match the new décor, just as the case with the Academy of Music in Baltimore during 1907. In Wilmington, the fabric extensions on either side of the drop were painted in a reddish hue, likely to match the new décor. This same color was also added to the ornamental frame surrounding the landscape composition, placed as an accent on the original white and gold frame. In addition to red, green was added at the bottom. You can see that the frame was originally white with gold trim; the golden shapes being defined with yellow, ochre, burnt sienna, umber and a bit of Van Dyke brown. The red is placed as a glaze over some of the detail; effectively obliterating the dimension and making it area appear flat. The also glaze extends onto the fabric extension, which is how we know it is not original to the composition. The same can be said for the green glaze; the color again obliterates some of the detail.
It would be wonderful to see the drop as it looked when originally painted by Smith, without the black, red and green additions; they all detract from the soft atmospheric effect of the composition. In particular, without the later red accents, the small touches of that same color in the clothing of the figures would have jumped out, making the scene come alive with splashes of brilliant colors.
