Travels of a Scenic Artists and Scholar: Wilmington, North Carolina, and Scenic Artist Russell Smith

 

My daily blog follows the life and times of Thomas G. Moses (1856-1934), a prolific scenic artist who worked for sixty years behind the curtain line. In 1931, he compiled a typed manuscript that recorded many of his projects over the years. In the early 1990s when I compiled an index for both this typed manuscript and Moses’ scrapbook, I vowed that one day I would go though his writing, line by line, and expand on each specific event and project mentioned by the artist. I am on year 1909.

I have examined not only his work and that of his contemporaries, but also Moses’ predecessors; scenic artists from previous generations who paved the way for the painting techniques employed not only by the artist, but also at the Sosman & Landis studio. One of Moses’ scenic art predecessors was William Thompson Russell Smith (1812-1896).

Smith was integral in the training of Moses’ one time business partner and life-long friend, Walter Burridge. At one time, Burridge worked at various Philadelphia theaters, many the old stomping grounds of Smith. It was the strong recommendation of Smith who supported Burridge’s employment at the Academy of Music, in Baltimore. Burridge was hired to paint some of the scenery for that venue during his early career.

Smith was mentioned in numerous publications over the years, including the article “Curtain and Scene Painting,” published in the “St. Louis Post-Dispatch,” 21 Jan. 1884, page 8. The article reported, “The other first-class curtain painters of the country do not number more than half-dozen. All enjoy national reputations, and their services are in demand to the other.” The article listed those they held in highest regard, including “Russell Smith, formerly of the Academy of Music, Philadelphia, makes a specialty of landscapes.”

Like Moses, Smith left a legacy that extended far beyond examples of his art for the stage or fine art galleries. Smith left a detailed written account of his life, family and projects. In 1856, Virginia E. Lewis wrote “Russell Smith, Romantic Realist.” She does a wonderful job chronicling Smith’s life while incorporating segments of his words. About a year ago, I decided that it was Smith’s scenic art career that I would explore after completing the life and times of Moses. Smith’s generation of scenic artist defined American scenic art techniques, infusing old world artistry with a new spirit. Moses’ generation further developed and shaped the field of subsequent schools of American scenic art.

I am in Wilmington, North Carolina, to give a presentation on 19th century scenic art and historical painting techniques. My trip began after a conversation with D. Anthony “Tony” Rivenbark at the League of Historic American Theater’s national conference last July. He is a nationally recognized theatre historian and Executive Director of Wilmington’s Thalian Hall. Tony shared an image of their extant drop curtain painted by Smith in 1858. Although it is no longer used during performance, the painted curtain has been conserved and is prominently displayed at the Thalian Hall Center for the Performing Arts. Here is a link to the theater: http://www.thalianhall.org/#map

Painted curtain by Russell Smith, 1858.

I am looking forward to seeing it in person today.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 521: Palette & Chisel, November – The Changing Times of Scenic Art

Part 521: Palette & Chisel, November – The Changing Times of Scenic Art

Thomas G. Moses was a member of the Palette and Chisel Club in Chicago and contributed a variety of articles to their monthly newsletter during the late 1920s. His series “Stage Scenery” was first published during September 1927. The article, however, was written by Moses during the spring of 1918.

Palette & Chisel newslsetter from November 1927 with Thomas G. Moses’ article “Stage Scenery”

 Here is Moses’ final November installment during 1927:

“Advertising in theatrical papers and magazines is quite necessary for this line of scenic painting. Illustrated catalogues are gotten up with a good deal of care and half-tones of the actual painted scenes are used. As stages differ in many ways, especially in size, from nine to forty feet in depth, it is quite essential that accurate dimensions be obtained. A card is sent to the prospective buyers which they fill out, giving all the required measurements. The scenes needed are listed, estimates made, the order is received, and each scene is given to the artist who is the most competent to execute that especial scene.

Advertisement for P. Dodd Ackerman & Co. scenic artists and constructors, 1905
Sosman & Landis studio advertisement
Sosman and Landis shipping Label attached to a wooden arbor

On completion the drop and borders are rolled up the short way and boxed, the frame-work is crated and shipped by express or freight. Instructions are sent for the hanging and setting of all scenes; on many stages it requires the supervision of an expert who is sent to do the work. Models and sketches are made and a miniature stage with all lines and lights, is used to set up the different scenes. The customer can see exactly what he is going to receive. As the average small theatre does not change the scenery within a period of ten years or more it has to be very neutral in design and color so it will not tire the audience in the ten years of wear.

Scenic artists working on a paint bridge, high above the stage
Scenic artists working in a studio

For many years the larger theatres in many parts of the country put in a paint frame and bridge. The scenery was then built and painted in the local theatre, which necessitated the artist and assistant, with a good mechanic, to travel about the country. The writer did this for twenty years, from Maine to California, back and forth, some theatres taking as long as ten months to stock while others were finished in two months. In those days the scenic artist and his work were looked upon in an entirely different light than they are today. Possibly it is the fault of the artists; an indifference as to the real worth of their work has caused the managers to look to others for suggestions, making a simple workman of the artist, one who only follows their instructions, allowing the stage manager to receive all of the credit for the stage settings, while the artist labors on the paint frame all through the hot and sultry night to produce something artistic.

The scenic art has been the starting point for a great many of the well-known picture painters. Among the English painters are Clarkson, Stanfield and David Roberts. All were prominent scenic artists and became as great in picture painting. Some of the leading American artists were scenic artists. J. Francis Murphy was an assistant to Mr. Strauss, who was the artist at Hooley’s Theatre in 1874. The well-known illustrator and water colorist, Charles Graham, was also an assistant to Mr. Strauss at this same time.”

The article continued, “W. C. Fitler was another scenic artist who made good pictures. Jules Guerin, the noted illustrator, started his art career as a scenic artist. I might name several dozen artists who owe their early training to scenic art.

There are a dozen Chicago scenic artists who have forsaken the paint frame pictures for the easel pictures. In a way I do not blame them, for scenic painting is made up of ling hours and hard manual labor. The bigness of the work appalls many who venture into the game, and, with its dirt, soon discourages them and they looker for a cleaner vocation. The close confinement of the old theatre days was another disagreeable feature of the work that never appealed to anyone; no daylight, always long hours and foul air.

The studio of today is an entirely different proposition; a large airy room, plenty of space in which to work, regular hours, all new work, and with very few exceptions, congenial companions; each artist specializing in one line of work, plenty to learn each day and good salaries paid to all, is a big inducement to forsake the stock painting in the theatre and accept the studio work.

The establishment of the scenic studios has created a great deal of competition and sometimes it is very keen, for there are quite a number of assistants who do not know the business thoroughly, yet can convince a certain type of theatre managers who, very often are managers of a very good theatres, that their painting is just as good as that of a man of more than thirty years’ experience and a national reputation.

The raw material has advanced at such a rate that it is impossible to keep pace with it. At this writing (spring of 1918) with the great world’s war going on, common cotton has advanced to thirty-four cents a yard when two years ago it was only eleven cents, and the quality has dropped one hundred percent.

It is impossible to get the rich color we had two years ago. The color question is one of great importance. To begin with, one of the first important features of scene painting is the ground coating or “priming,” whiting and glue size. It must be very carefully mixed and “just so.” T takes several buckets to prime and ordinary drop; the edge must be kept wet so the color will be even all over. If the color edge is dry it will become too thick and will crack when rolled up. In many cases a strong tint in the priming is used for a tonal feeding, especially in landscape. It gives a certain amount of looseness when plenty of tonal color is left in the painting.

The end.”

 

To be continued…

 

 

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 520 – Palette & Chisel, October 1927 – Creating Stock Scenery

Part 520: Palette & Chisel, October 1927 – Creating Stock Scenery

Thomas G. Moses was a member of the Palette and Chisel Club in Chicago and contributed a variety of articles to their monthly newsletter during the late 1920s. His series “Stage Scenery” began during September 1927, however, it was originally written during the spring of 1918.

Here is the third part of Moses’ “Stage Scenery” in the Palette & Chisel newsletter during October 1927:

“The material used to paint on is a fine grade Russian linen and a heavy grade of cotton cloth. Linen is used for all scenery on frames; the cotton is used for drops and borders, usually called “hangers.” The lumber is a fine grade of clear, white pine, without knots or sap. It has to be very clear and straight grained so it will stand upright without too much bracing.

Bottom sandwich batten for backdrops
Bottom sandwich batten for backdrops

After the canvas has been carefully prepared with a priming coat of whiting and glue is thoroughly dried, the artist draws his design with charcoal, which must be carefully done. In many cases the model must be laid off in squares and the same is carried up on the drop or set pieces. This enables the artist to produce the model exactly as part of the paint frame is below the bridge most of the time so the artist cannot see all of the drop. After the scene is drawn in it is traced with ink, which enables the artist to lay in the main local colors without destroying the drawing. The drawing out of an interior is very laborious. The work has to be done very accurately and pounces and stencils made, as there are many pieces to be covered.

In case of a landscape, they sky is laid in first, distance follows, then the middle distance, and there are many pieces to be covered.

In case of a landscape, the sky is laid in first, distance follows, then the middle distance, and the foreground last. The trees are run up when the sky is dry, which takes a short time. After all the broad “masses” of the “lay in” are dry and a clean palette has been arranged by the “paint boy” and the pots and pails holding the “lay in” are placed under the palette, “(a clear space is required for the many tints that are mixed on the palette, several small cups of dark purple and a strong rich color is used to emphasize the darks in the foreground) comes the careful work of finishing a landscape; strong shadows and half tones in foliage up to the strongest flickering of sunlight. We now take a little more time for our work. The “lay in” had to be done very quickly as it is very essential that the colors be kept will blend, which, in turn, makes the “cut up” easier. A drop representing a landscape 24×36 feet in size can be “laid in” with a lot of rough detail inside of two or three hours and retain wet edges.

As the distemper colors dry out several shades lighter t causes many anxious moments to a novice. There was no trouble with color fading or changing before fireproofing; it eats all the blue (especially Cobalt) out of purple, leaving a bad color, neither a blue nor red, which makes trouble for the artist.

Showing difference between wet and dry pigment colors during the painting process

In most cases, in painting a landscape, the artist endeavors to obtain his dark colors in the “lay in” so that when the “cut up” comes it will be all light colors. Most of the artists start to finish the drops from the foreground, getting the strength of the foreground first. Big, broad strokes are what count. It may look rather coarse close by, but when the completed scene is properly lighted you will find a surprise awaiting you. We know how to light a scene, but often some of our best effects are purely accidental. We follow these accidents up, develop them, and find soft, atmospheric color, all to be done with electricity.

Looking up at a collection of backdrops and seeing the bottom battens

Stock scenery for small halls and opera houses and for large vaudeville theatres has grown to be quite a business. Scenic studios have sprung up like mushrooms all over the country. To get the very best facilities for handling all sizes of scenery, the studio has to have a height of at least 54 feet, allowing a drop 30 feet high to be painted from a stationary floor, 24 feet from the basement floor. The width of the studio should be at least 50 feet and 150 feet in length. A building of these dimensions will accommodate fifteen paint frames, giving work for fifteen artists, five paint boys, four helpers to handle the scenery on and off the frames, two sewing women and six carpenters to build and prepare the frames for the scenes. This would constitute a first class studio and turn put a lot of work.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 519 – Palette & Chisel, October 1927 – The Design Process

Part 519: Palette & Chisel, October 1927 – The Design Process

Palette & Chisel newsletter from October 1927 with article written by Thomas G. Moses.

Thomas G. Moses was a member of the Palette and Chisel Club in Chicago and contributed a variety of articles to their monthly newsletter during the late 1920s. His series for “Stage Scenery” started during September 1927

Here is the second part of Moses’ October installment to the Palette and Chisel newsletter during 1927:

“The artist makes a ground plan of the scene, scaled to one-half inch to the foot. The stage director approves of it, the model is made and every detail is worked out in the model. The recessed window calls for glass or the equivalent; a thin piece of mica or celluloid is glued on the model over the opening cut in the cardboard, the sash lines are drawn with heavy ink, and small bits of heraldry or stained glass are introduced. All the doors have the small thickness jambs, the floor is drawn in imitation of inlaid woods, the whole model is carefully colored and when completed is submitted to the stage director who, in turn, submits it to the playwright and the producing manager. If any minor changes are necessary they are made. When the model is O.K. it is turned over to the stage machinist and an estimate is made to build and prepare the scene for the artist who makes an estimate to paint the scene, which includes the cost of the model.

When the scene is ready for the artist it is placed on his frame. When painted, the machinist puts on the finishing hardware and lines. It is now ready to be moved to the theatre to be produced or rehearsed. The artist and stage machinist superintend the setting and lighting for the first time. It is then turned over to the stage director, and here is where the real hard part of the production comes. After many nights of labor on the scene, as well as long days in preparing the models and painting the scene, completely fatigued and ready for a good nights sleep, he must attend the rehearsal, supposed to be a scenic rehearsal. It is anything but that. The chances are that a umber of artists are interested as there are three or more acts and often a number of scenes to each act, each scene probably painted by a different artist; so each must wait until his act or scene is called. Lucky the fellow who has the first act for he is apt to get away before 10:00 P.M. The one with the forth act will probably get away about 3:00 A.M. for the director will probably go over an act several times before pronouncing it perfect. If this happens in the third act the artist of the fourth act is alone in his long waiting. After he is through and on his way back to New York City he will probably be almost unable to keep awake.

Most of the new productions of New York City are tried out for a week or so over in New Jersey, at Jersey City, Newark, Trenton, Plainfeild or Elizabeth; they all have to stand for it, for that is about the only time they get any of the Broadway production, and the show soon hears from them. If it happens to be poor and the weak points are strengthened and rehearsed every day until they are in good shape for New York critics. The scenic decorations are supposed to be perfect; in fact, they must be perfect.

The scenic artist should know all branches of scenic art and not specialize too much. While it is almost impossible to be perfect in all branches, he should have a good knowledge of landscape, architecture, figures, free hand scroll, marines and drapery; in fact, about everything under the sun. While it is necessary for an artist to be absolutely correct in many details he very often has to gloss over a great many important points which are not noticeable to the public.

Within the past few years many of the stage interiors have solid wood wainscoting, six or seven feet high, very heavy door casing and thick jambs. These solid and realistic interiors are all right but even the relief ornaments and mouldings often have to be high lighted and the shadows made strong. The walls are usually made of some real fabric. So on these scenes there is very little work for the artist. Even in the exteriors the modern, up-to-date idea is to have a lot of artificial flowers and shrubs among the painted pieces.”

To be continued…

 

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 518- Palette & Chisel, October 1927 – The Paint Studio

Part 518: Palette & Chisel, October 1927 – The Paint Studio

 

Thomas G. Moses was a member of the Palette and Chisel Club in Chicago and contributed a variety of articles to their monthly newsletter during the late 1920s. His series for “Stage Scenery” started during September 1927.

Here is the first part of the October installment during October 1927:

“The scenic artist has gradually drifted from the theatre to the scenic studios, where productions are designed, built and painted. The dramatic or operatic stock company employs its own artists and stage mechanics. The dramatic company usually has its scenery painted in the theatre. The opera company usually has so much scenery, and the greater part is carried over from year to year, that it has to have a large storehouse and usually combines a storehouse and paint room.

We visit the theatre studio first, picking our way down an unlighted alley until we find a door marked “STAGE ENTRANCE. NO ADMITTANCE.” The fine old crab who guards the door is one of the “down and outs” of the profession. He has held all of the good positions offered by the profession and he will tell you: “Me and Booth played together at Oshkosh.” He was quite likely, a property man or stage hand, hardly veer an actor or scenic artist. He is usually deaf, but his sense of feeling and seeing are very acute, so a piece of silver felt and seen opens the door and one is directed to the stairway which is found in the corner, is circular in shape and built of iron.

After a dizzying climb of thirty feet above the stage floor you will land on a solid floor called a “fly floor,” From here all scenery which is fastened to a set of lines, is raised and lowered. The drop curtain is also managed from here. In the modern theatre all of this work is done from the stage floor level. Thousands of feet of half-inch rope is required to handle the scenery, to say nothing of the steel cable that I used.

You feel your way along the rail called the “Pin rail”; to this all of the lines are fastened. You will see a bright light at the rear of the stage; this is the “paint bridge” – six feet wide and reaching from one fly floor to the other. Between this bridge and the back wall is hung the paint frame, also one on the other side of the bridge. These two frames are skeleton frames, as light as possible, but strong enough to hold the frame pieces of scenery of the drops and borders to be painted. These are operated from the floor by a windlass; plenty of counterweights are used to balance the heavy load of scenery. Everything that hangs is operated over pulleys placed on the “gridiron,” sixty feet above the stage floor. A “strip” light is necessary for painting. The artist has a designing room on the fly floor. The palette is two feet wide and eight feet long, two feet and six inches high, mounted on a table with castors. A smooth surface is required for mixing of tints, a set of palette bowls, each six inches in diameter, about sixteen in number and filled with the colors mixed in the pure state with water – other tints are mixed in pans or small pails; a pail of glue size and a pail of clean water, a few brushes. A few strong strokes, with a crayon stick filled with charcoal, you see the design and the painting starts immediately.

In this case we will not do any painting until we find out just what it is going to be. Before any actual work is done the playwright has to give over the manuscript to the manager who has agreed to produce it. The stage director is called in and sometimes whole scenes are cut in spite of anything the playwright may say. He often rehearses the play. If he is a big man, with a reputation, he pays no attention to any one and does as he pleases. When everything is O.K.’d by everyone the manuscript is handed to the scenic artist who, in turn, reads it very carefully and makes notes of the principal “business bits” which are usually marks with red ink. This is very important, as the playwright has fitted the scenes and play together and has specified as follows: “Act 1. Scene 1. A library – Tudor Gothic – one large arch C – fireplace R C – recessed window with seat, doors down L door 2-R night. Place, any place in England, early Nineteenth Century.” By making notes and reading carefully we find a character opens and enters the recessed window, necessitating a different construction; door down right must open on stage.”

To be continued…

 

 

 

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 517 – Palette & Chisel, September 1927

Part 517: Palette & Chisel, September 1927

Palette and Chisel newsletter, Sept. 1927.

 Thomas G. Moses was a member of the Palette and Chisel Club in Chicago and contributed a variety of articles to their monthly newsletter during the late 1920s. There were many scenic artists who were members of this art club. However, “Uncle Tom” was the leader of the group and the last president of the largest scenery firm in Chicago by 1915. I have included his articles about sketching trips from the 1880s that were printed in the newsletter, but here is his series of articles about the artistic process of painting stage scenery. His series for “Stage Scenery” started during September 1927. At the time, Moses was 71 years old.

The editor of the newsletter introduces Moses and his series of articles:

Stage Scenery How it is Painted. Tom Moses Tells the Tricks of the Trade.

This is the first article of a group by Thomas G. Moses to be printed serially in the Palette and Chisel. For over a half century Tom Moses has designed and painted stage settings for productions that were famous in their time. He was associated with the famous scenic firm of Sosman and Landis which eventually became just Tom Moses though the old firm name still flies at the mast head. In this first offering, Mr. Moses tells about the mimic world in which he works; he tells of the “sets”, how and why they are made, while analyzing some o their production from the managerial and technical standpoint. This article (continued) will acquaint the reader with everyday work and problems of the scenic artist. Later Mr. Moses will tell of the sketching trips in search of new material, made to out of the way places. The first trip is dated 1884.” 

Here is Moses’ first installment to the Palette and Chisel newsletter:

“Stage Scenery 1918

The first movable scenery was invented and painted by an Italian artist by the name of Peruzzi and used in a play called “La Calandra”, which was presented before Pope Leo X in 1508, and the further developments of his inventions, which were thoroughly in accordance with the spirit of the age, led to the necessity of a recessed stage with a frame, like a picture.

Shakespeare used placards naming the different scenes, as “This is a street,” “This is a forest,” etc. A few of Shaekespeare’s disciples attempted to do this even to this advanced age, but with very little success, for it leaves too much for the imagination.

Scenery in connection with the legitimate drama or Grand Opera must be very authentic in design and truthful in color. In a “Spectacle,” “Light Opera,” “Musical Comedy,” “Burlesque,” or “Vaudeville” acts, a scenic artist can go the limit on design and give the public a riot of color, and in return for this they will howl with delight.

Thirty years ago most of the scenery was painted in the theatre, a room or paint bridge being arranged on the stage of adjoining room for that purpose. Each theatre furnished the necessary sets for the traveling company, which was headed by some big star. In the larger cities, the theatre employed a scenic artist and an assistant to keep regular stock scenery in good condition and to supply and special scene needed. While the regular stock scenery in each theatre was nearly complete there was always a call for some scene not to be found in stock. As the scene plot was sent ahead and turned over to the scenic artist, the required scene was built and painted. Often the scene was painted on an old drop, or over old framed wings.

The big spectacles, similar to the Kiralfy’s immense production, or the well-known Black Crook, had to carry all of their scenery, several car-loads, for it would cost a fortune to paint anything for these shows. At the present time nearly everyone carries scenery, and, as a rule, a lot of it.

In the early days of scene painting in America, the majority of the artists were of English descent; many of them had a weakness for the flowing bowl, and many tales have been told of several artists and what beautiful scenes they would paint while in their cups. As a rule an artist has to be in a very normal condition to paint any kind of a scene and then he will often fall down on the job.”

To be continued…

 

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 467- Curtain and Scene Painting

Part 467: Curtain and Scene Painting

Painted drop curtain by the Twin City Scenic Co. of Minneapolis, Minnesota. Here is the link to the University fo Minnesota Performing Arts Archives scenery collection database: https://umedia.lib.umn.edu/scenicsearch

While researching scenic art projects by Thomas C. Noxon and Patrick J. Toomey, I came across an interesting article about curtain and scene painting from 1884. It was published in the “St. Louis Post-Dispatch” (21 Jan. 1884, page 8). Here it is in its entirety as there is a wealth of information about the scenic artists of the time who specialized in drop curtains:

“Curtain and Scene Painting

The Leading Artists of the Country and the Prices Paid for Their Work.

“The return to drapery in drop curtains,” said Mr. Thomas C. Noxon of the art firm of Noxon, Albert and Toomey, employed at the Grand Opera House and Olympic, is a return to the old style. Drapery was very common twenty-five or thirty years ago. Now very few curtains are painting any other way; and while some artists adhere to simple combinations of rich materials, without any suggestion of life in the composition, the most popular and the prettiest curtains are those which present views or figures in which there is a suggestion of animation.

The new curtain at the Grand Opera House which was painted by Messrs. Noxon, Albert & Toomey is an example of the latter work. It is a composition presenting a profusion of rich drapery, warm in color, and minutely perfect in technique, drawn back and looped at the side, so as to reveal a bright Florentine picture with a pair of lovers in the foreground, moving toward the polished marble steps that fill the lower portion of the view. No handsomer curtain hangs in any theater in this country.

“What does a new drop curtain cost?” the Post-Dispatch reporter asked.

“About $500 or $600,” was Mr. Noxon’s reply. [The equivalent purchasing power in 2018 is approximately $12,000-$15,000]

“And how long does it take to paint one?”

“All the way from two to three days to five to six weeks. I painted a drop for Tootle’s Opera House, Sedallia, some years ago, in one-half days and got $500 for it, but an artist now seldom turns out a piece of work of this kind in less than three weeks. He can put that much time on it with a great deal of profit.”

“What will it cost to stock a new theatre with scenery?”

“From $2,000-$3,500.”

“And that will include how many sets?”

“Thirty-five. Enough for putting on any legitimate piece.”

“How long does it take to get up special scenery, say for a play like ‘The Silver King’?”

“That piece could be gotten up in two weeks. A fortnight’s notice is all we require to paint the scenery for any piece requiring sets that the theater has not in stock. In all such cases small models are complete reproductions in miniature of the original scenes.”

“There isn’t much work of this kind required of the artist nowadays?”

“No, not much; because many companies are now carrying their own scenery. Those playing melodrama invariably bring their own scenes with them.”

Mr. Noxon stands in front rank of curtain and scene painters, and for special features like Mardi Gras and Veiled Prophet pageants, is recognized throughout the Mississippi Valley as the most competent man in the profession.

Mr. Ernest Albert is a finished artist in the painting of interiors, and has displayed great originality in designing and executing curtains. He is particularly happy in reproducing draperies with a faultlessness of technique that challenges wonder and admiriation.

The other first-class curtain painters of the country do not number more than half-dozen. All enjoy national reputations, and their services are in demand to the other.

Russell Smith, formerly of the Academy of Music, Philadelphia, makes a specialty of landscapes.

Voegtlin, who went from New York to California where he was recently located, also takes to landscapes, but is an admirable figure painter, and will be at the top of the heap again should there be a revival of this style of curtains.

Phil Goatcher, formerly of Cincinnati, but now in New York, paints very pretty satin drops with medallion centers.

Henry E. Hoyt of Colvill’es, Fourteenth street, New York City, has lately started a boom in the direction of drapery without either figures or landscape views. His last curtain, which was of this character, was painted for the Euclid Avenue Opera House, Cleveland. He finished it is three weeks, and got $600.

Messrs. Noxon, Albert & Toomey painted a beautiful curtain and an entire stock of scenery for the new Park Theatre, in the same city, which was destroyed by fire a few weeks ago.

Last but not least is the prominent curtain and scene painters is Richard H. Halley, who came here at the opening of Pope’s Theater, then went to the Grand, and at the beginning of the present season began work at McKee Rankin’s Third Avenue Theater, New York. His silk curtain at Pope’s obtained instant recognition for its artistic abilities, and his later work, although lacking strength and color, has been marked by unusual merit. The curtain in the new Olympic is from his brush. As a painter of exteriors he holds high rank in the profession, and he is acknowledged to be without a peer in the reproduction of foliage.”

To be continued…

Detail of a painted drop curtain.
Detail of a painted drop curtain.

 

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 410 – “Art on the Stage” 1881, Other Materials Used

 

Part 410: “Art on the Stage” 1881, Other Materials Used

“The Building News and Engineering Journal” published an article on the art of scene painting in 1881. Here is the third, and final, part.

Bag of Van Dyke Brown pigment. Photograph by Marc D. Hill. He has some amazing pictures. Here is the link: https://hiveminer.com/Tags/old,powder
Ultramarine blue dry pigment. Photograph by Marc D. Hill. He has some amazing pictures. Here is the link: https://hiveminer.com/Tags/old,powder
Bag of turquoise b pigment. Photograph by Marc D. Hill. He has some amazing pictures. Here is the link: https://hiveminer.com/Tags/old,powder

“Other Materials Used
The scene-painter, however, is not confined to colours in producing his effects. There is a number of other materials of great importance in scene-painting. The gorgeous dashes of blue, crimson, yellow, and purple that make the resplendent fairy grotto are not alone sufficient. The glitter that is seen on the many-coloured stalagmites and stalactites is produced by ordinary gold and silver leaf. Sometimes it becomes necessary to produce upon the scene a smooth, glittering surface which shall be coloured. This is produced by foil papers. They are made of paper with a polished metallic surface, and are very effective in fairy scenes. What are known as bronze powders are made of all shades. They are metallic powders of gold, silver, bronze, steel, blue, red, purple, and other shades. A brush full of glue is drawn across the required surface, and the bronze is spread over it. The consequent appearance is that of a rough metallic surface similar to that frosted silver.

In some scenes it is necessary to represent precious stones. The jewels in the walls of some Eastern despot’s palace cannot be imitated by paint with a sufficient degree of realism to stand the glare of gas and calcium light. Hence, theatrical art resorts to what are called “logies.” These are made of zinc, in the shape of a large jewel, and are set in the canvas. They are made in all colours; and thus, by a very cheap and easy process, the barbaric splendour of Persia or of Turkey may be reproduced in all its original opulence. Sometimes it becomes necessary to represent that changing sheen that is visible upon highly-polished metals when exposed to the rays of the sun. This is done by means of coloured lacquers. The surface of the metal is painted, and a wash of those lacquers, blending from one tint into another, is put over it. The light reflected from these different coloured washes produces the desired effect, and gives a highly realistic representation of a surface of metal.

An ice scene is never complete without some thing to produce glitter and sparkle. This effect is produced by “frostings” of crushed glass, which are made to adhere to the canvas in the same manner as the bronze powders. The elaborate ornamental work of interior scenes is always done by means of stencils cut in pasteboard. There are books published on fresco painting which give large numbers of beautiful designs for panels, ceilings, mouldings, and other ornamental work. Every scene-painter has a collection of these works. The ingenious artist, however, is constantly combining the different designs, and often invents new ones. He is thus enabled to present to the public an ever-changing variety.

The last thing that the scene-painter does before the production of a new play is to have his scenes set upon the stage at night in order that he can arrange the lighting of them. The “gas-man” of a theatre is the artist’s mainstay. It lies in his power to ruin the finest scene that was ever painted. Ground lights turned too high upon a moonlight scene, calciums with glass not properly tinted, or the shadow of a straight edged border-drop thrown across a delicate sky – all these things are ruin to the artist’s most careful work. The proper lighting of a scene is, therefore, a matter that requires the most careful study. The artist sits in the centre of the auditorium and minutely observes every nook and comer of his scene under the glare of gas. Here a light is turned up and there one is lowered until the proper effect is secured. The gas-man takes careful note of his directions, and the stage-manager oversees everything. Long after the audience has left the theatre on the night before the production of a new play, the stage-hands, the artist, and the stage manager are at work, and the public sees only the charming result of their labours when the curtain rises on the next night.

The end.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 409 – “Art on the Stage” 1881, Secrets of the Scene Painter

Part 409: “Art on the Stage” 1881, Secrets of the Scene Painter

“The Building News and Engineering Journal” published an article on the art of scene painting 1881. Here is the second of three parts.

“Secrets of the Scene-Painter

The next step is the laying in of the groundwork. The sky is, of course, the first point. This is done with whitewash brushes, the painter being absolutely free from all restraint in his method of putting on the colour. The principal point is to get it on quickly. And here the great advantages of painting in distemper become thoroughly plain. These advantages are two in number: the first is, that the colour dries very quickly, thus affording the artist a high rate of speed in working; secondly, all the colours retain, when dry, precisely the same tint as they had before being mixed. The addition of the sizing makes each colour several shades darker than it is when simply in the powdered state. The knowledge of this fact and thorough understanding of the effect the tints will produce after drying is one of the great secrets of the art. Oil-painters of high standing have been known to try the distemper method with utterly disastrous results. Colours mixed with oil always darken several shades and remain dark. Colours mixed with sizing always dry out to their original shade.

Image by Marc D. Hill. He has some amazing pictures. Here is the link: https://hiveminer.com/Tags/old,powder

Different painters have different methods, and there is as much variety in the school of scene-painting as in other branches of art. The German, French, and American artists use opaque washes, or, as it is usually expressed, work in “body colour.” The English school, in which the greatest advances have been made, use thin glazes. This in scene painting is the quickest and most effective. Morgan, Marston, Fox, and Voegtlin are among the leading representatives of this school in America, and their method is gradually spreading among the artists of that country. Its rapidity may be judged from the fact that one of these artist’s lately painted a scene measuring twenty by thirty feet in less than four hours.

One of the greatest differences in scene-painting from ordinary water-colour painting is that, while the colours of the latter are transparent, those of the former are opaque. For instance, the water-colour painter can lay in a wash of yellow ochre, and, by covering it when dry, with a light coat of madder lake, can transform it to a soft orange. In distemper, however, the coat of madder lake would not allow the yellow to show but would completely hide it, and the tint presented would be pure pink. From this fact results a total difference in the painting of foliage. The water-colour painter lays in his light tints first and puts in his shadows afterwards. The scene-painter may do this or not as he pleases. He may put his light tints over his dark ones and they will not lose any of their brilliancy. The advantage of this in regard to speed may be easily seen. If the water-colour painter wishes to put a high light in the middle of a shadow, he must first erase with a sharp knife a portion of his dark tint, or else put on a heavy spot of Chinese white. Over the spot thus erased or whitened he puts the required tint. The distemper painter is relieved of this roundabout process, for he simply dots in his light colour wherever he needs it over the darker shade, and it shows with perfect brilliancy. Again, in painting skies the scene-painter works by a method of his own, not unlike that adopted by oil-painters. The water-colour painter must leave all the broad light of his sky when putting in the main colour, and is obliged to work with his tints wet. The scene-painter may lay in the entire sky with blue, and paint his light yellowish clouds over it afterward. If the ordinary water-colour painter were to do this, his clouds would be green. Some scene-painters, however, work their entire skies wet. The effect of a sky painted thus is always very fine, but only an artist thoroughly conversant with the values of his several pigments can do this. For the colours, it will be remembered, present a very different appearance when wet from that which they have when dry.

Scene-painting has become so important an art that one large firm in New York makes a great specialty of imported materials. There is a long list of colours and other things used exclusively in scenic art, and improvements are being constantly made. Formerly scene-painters were obliged to grind their own colours, but these are now prepared in “pulp” – that is, ground in water. Among the colours used almost exclusively by scenic artists are English white, Paris white, zinc white, silver white, drop black, Frankfort black, Turkey umbers, Italian siennas, Cologne earth, Dutch pink, Schweinfurter green, Neuwieder green, ultramarine green, Bremen blue, azure blue, Persian scarlet, Turkey red, Tuscan red, Solferino, Magenta, Munich lake, Florentine lake, Vienna lake, and blue lake. Some of these colours are also used by fresco painters.

Those which are never used except by scenic artists are celestial blue, golden ochres, green lakes, Milori greens, French green and yellow lakes. The colours specially imported for scene-painters are carnation, royal purples, green lakes, and the English chromes. Indigo is used in very large quantities by scenic artists, but it is used very moderately by water-colour artists. It adds considerably to the expense of getting up scenery.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 408 – “Art on the Stage” 1881

Part 408: “Art on the Stage” 1881
 
Today’s installment begins the last of three articles about scenic art in the 19th century. For the past few weeks I presented information from two vintage articles about the history of scenic art in England, one from 1866 and another from 1871. Leap ahead one decade to 1881 when the theatrical trade of scene painting was presented in the article “Art of the Stage.” It was first published in New York, then later appeared in “The Building News and Engineering Journal” – a fascinating publication in its own right.
Some illustrations from “The Building News and Engineering Journal,” where “Art on the Stage” was published in 1881.
 
“The Building News and Engineering Journal” began as “The Building News” in 1854. It was renamed “The Building News and Architectural Review” by 1860, and then “The Building News and Engineering Journal” in 1863. It ran until 1926, when it merged with “The Architect” to form “The Architect and Building News.”
 
In 1881, Volume 41 of “The Building News and Engineering Journal” included an article titled, “Art on the Stage.” Other articles from this issue include “Water Supply and Sanitary Matters,” “Practical Notes on Plumbing,” “The Improvement of Artisans’ Dwellings,” “Bristol and Gloucestershire Archeological Society,” “Restoration of St. Alban’s Cathedral Since 1877,” “Calculator of Measurement of Packages and Timber,” “Building a House on a Sand Hill,” and “Ancient Wood and Ironwork in Cambridge.”
 
Here is the first of three parts.
“Scene Painting is an art by itself. There is no other branch of painting just like it, either in the variety of subjects embraced or in the methods employed. The thorough scenic artist must be equally at home in landscape or marine work, architectural or fresco. He is not permitted to cultivate any particular branch of his art, nor any favorite style. He must be able to produce, at any time, the wild mountainous passes of Switzerland or the flat meadows of Holland; the green lanes of homelike England, or the winding valleys of romantic Spain. In his architectural work he cannot devote himself to the Gothic or the Romanesque, but must be equally master of the Moorish, the Greek, and the Oriental. He may to-day be called upon to paint the Temple of Minerva, and to-morrow the Mosque of Omar; this week the Windsor Hotel, and next week the Palace of Versailles. His art knows no boundaries, and his scope is confined by no limits. The universe must be at his command, and things unseen must live in his imagination. The methods by which he works and many of the materials he employs are altogether different from those employed by the ordinary oil or water-colour painter. They approach more nearly to those of the latter, yet even here certain qualities of the colours used by the scene-painter constitute a sharp dividing line.
 
In the first place, the ordinary water-colour painter works upon paper. The scene-painter uses canvas. He first makes a pasteboard model of his scene and gives it to the stage carpenter, who builds the frame-work and pastes the canvas upon it. It is then ready for the ‘paint frame.’ This is a huge wooden affair, hung upon ropes, with counterweights attached. It is usually placed against the wall at the back or side of the stage, and has a windlass attached by which it may be hoisted and lowered. The artist works upon a bridge built in front of this frame and at its top when the bottom is touching the stage. By hoisting or lowering the paint frame he is enabled to reach any part of his scene. He is provided with plenty of brushes, ranging from a heavy 2lb. brush such as is used by house-painters, to a small sharp one for drawing fine lines. In addition to these he has several whitewash brushes for laying in flat washes and skies.
 
His colours are kept in buckets, tin cans, and earthenware vessels. His palette is a long table with partitioned compartments on the top to hold small quantities of colour. Give him now his palette-knife, his rule, plenty of twine and sticks of charcoal, and he is ready to go to work. His first duty is to “prime” his scene. This is done with a plain coat of white. This colour and all others used by him are mixed with “sizing,” which is simply a weak solution of glue. Working with colours mixed in this way is called painting in distemper, and has certain advantages which will be spoken of further on. The priming coat is laid on with a heavy white wash brush, care being taken to drive the colour well into the canvas. Sometimes heavy unbleached muslin is used; but the usual material is duck.
 
After the canvas is primed and dry, the artist is ready to draw. Most scenic painters do their first drawing in a very sketchy manner. After the charcoal outline is finished, it is gone over carefully with an ink prepared especially for the purpose, and not used in any other branch of art. In architectural drawing this part of the work is necessarily done with the greatest care, as regularity of outline and accuracy of detail are absolutely necessary. A scene-painter’s outline for a landscape, however, looks very much like the off-hand outline productions hastily done by an old hand at sketching from nature. The scene-painter must be a master of perspective; for street scenes and palace corridors are frequently produced by him.
 
The method of drawing in perspective on a large scale is curious, though substantially the same as that usually employed. The artist selects his “vanishing point,” usually outside of his scene, and attaches to it by a pin a long piece of twine. Beginning at the top of the scene he marks off, in the foreground, the distances between his lines. He then blackens the twine with charcoal, and, laying the loose end on his first mark, draws it tight and snaps it upon the scene, making a line in the same manner as a carpenter does upon a long board. These lines are afterward gone over with ink and ruler. In this way he is able to produce a perfect perspective. Exterior scenes, in which a castle or other large building appears, often have the perspective increased in effect by continuing a wall or rampart down the stage upon a separate piece set exactly in the line of perspective.”
 
To be continued…