Scenic Art Articles – Page 4

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 397: “A Gossip about Scenery and Scene-Painters,” 1866, first section

Part 397: “A Gossip about Scenery and Scene-Painters,” 1866, first section

While researching the English scene painting families, I came across an interesting article from 1866. It seems an appropriate time to share this article, as my house will soon be full of friends. This means that I will become distracted by good conversations over glasses of wine. It is also a good time to look at how the history of scenic art was presented during the mid-nineteenth century in the United Kingdom.

The article “A Gossip about Scenery and Scene-Painters,” was published in “The Era” on February 4, 1866. The first issue of “The Era” was published in 1838. Here is the first of five installments from the 1866 article.

“At a season when thousands of spectators, not only in the Metropolis, but in the chief towns of the United Kingdom, are nightly calling into their presence the scenic artist, who has conjured up before them landscapes of surpassing beauty or fairy palaces of dazzling grandeur and apparently interminable development, it will be an appropriate time to look back on the early years of that art which in our own day has been recognized as so essential to modern Managerial prosperity. No more is here intended than a rapid summary of a few little-known facts and a revival of some pleasant recollections; but to those who may hereafter think fit to deal with the subject, at a length in accordance with its importance, we offer materials which may not be without interest.

No future writers on this theme should be left unacquainted with the circumstance, recently made known by that acute Shakespearian critic, Mr. Frederick Guest Tomkins, that the first painter of moveable scenery in England was [Robert] Aggas and at Painter Stainers’ Hall, Little Trinity-lane, may yet be seen a fine specimen of the artist’s work. Those who passed a pleasant evening last summer in the fine old Courtroom of this most interesting City Hall will long retain a lively memory of the genial gathering invited to hear the particulars of the discovery.

The ancient scenery employed for open-air representations at first consisted of mere boughs, but afterwards of tapestry, not painted canvas. The Greek stage consisted of three parts, the seena, across the Theatre, upon the line of the curtain in our Theatres; the proscenium, where the actors perform; and the postscenium, the part behind the house. To form parts of the scenes there were prisms of framework, turning upon pivots, upon each face of which was stained a distinct picture; one for tragedy, consisting of large buildings, with columns, statues, and other corresponding ornaments; a second face, with houses, windows, and balconies, for comedy; a third applied to farce, with cottages, grottoes, and rural scenes. These were the scenes versatiles of Servius. Besides these there were scena ductiles, which drew backwards and forwards, and opened a view of the house, which was built upon the stage, and contained apartments for machinery or retirement of actors.

As to the patterns of the scenes in comedy the most considerable building was in the centre, that on the right hand was a little less elevated, and that on the left generally represented an inn. In the satirical pieces they had always a cave in the middle, a wretched cabin on the right, and on the left an old ruined temple or a landscape. In these representations perspective was observed, for Vitruvius remarks that “the rules of it were invented and practiced from the time of Aeschylus by a painter named Agararchius, who has even left a treatise upon it.” After the downfall of the Roman Empire these decorations of the stage were neglected till Peruzzi, a Siennese, who died in 1536, revived them.”

Bust of Baldassare Peruzzi (1481-1536) by sculptor Giovanni Dupré, 1853. Here is the link to the image at the Courtauld Institute of Art: http://www.artandarchitecture.org.uk/images/conway/f25e0f31.html

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 394: William Telbin: Artist in Tempera

In 1889 W. J. Lawrence listed some prominent English scene painting families – the Greenwoods, Grieves, Stanfields, Callcotts, Dansons, Fentons, Gordons, and Telbins. This installment looks at the Telbins (The Theatre Magazine, July 13, 1889). The most famous of the Telbin family was William (1815-1873).

William Telbin was a scene painter at Drury Lane Theatre, Covent Gardens and Lyceum Theatres. His scenic art was greatly influenced by the paintings of J. M. W. Turner. The following article about the artist was published in “The Magazine of Art” (January 1, 1902, page 371-376):

“In the records of scenic art no name is held in higher repute than that of Telbin. Since Clarkston Stanfield abandoned the painting-room of the theatre – nearly sixty years ago [1840s] – and was succeeded at Drury Lane by William Telbin the elder, much of the principal scene work for London, for provincial, and even some of the foreign theatres has been executed by painters of this name, the elder Telbin, the father of the subject of this sketch, was at one time scene painter for the four theatres in London then the most important – Her Majesty’s, the Lyceum, Drury Lane, and the Olympic; and in addition was frequently requisitioned for work at Covent Garden and the Haymarket. His elder son was principal assistant, and the younger one, William, drifted in to the same work. From childhood his mind was centered on artistic matters. Provided with models, and modeling tools as toys, he was encouraged in every possible way to develop his artistic tastes. The profession chosen for him when his school days were ended was that of architect, and with the view of training himself for it, he went through a course of sketching in Westminster Abbey, not wholly as a duty, but from an innate love of architecture. This was in 1862. In the following year he paid a visit of some months’ duration to Bonn, and spent the time sketching on the Rhine between that town and Coblentz. Thence he journeyed to Cologne, and worked for some time in the Cathedral. Upon his return home he entered the painting-room of the theatre as assistant to his father, where his brother was already engaged.

The first scene for which he received public credit was a vision of “Robinson Crusoe on the Raft,” painted for a pantomime produced at Covent Garden Theatre by Sir Augustus Harris’ father. Mr. Telbin confesses that, although he was mentioned on the programme as the author of the work, he “shrewdly suspected” his father of “tampering considerably: with t before it was placed on the stage. He was absent in Ireland for two months before Christmas, and when he saw the scene from the front of the house he recognized his father’s handiwork upon it – the brilliancy of color was mistakenly not his own.

Under the direction of Mr. Telbin the elder, the two younger painters were afforded many valuable opportunities of improving themselves in artistic work, for when sketches from nature were required for the work in hand, they were sent to make them. In the manner Mr. W. Telbin has become acquainted with the greater part of the Continent, his journeyings embracing the distances from Iceland to Tangiers, and Ireland to Vienna. Such experiences are invaluable to a scene-painted of the first rank, as well as to the general landscape painter.

From 1870 to 1873 Mr. Telbin’s work increased to an enormous extent, of, owning to the death of his brother, who fell from a cliff whilst sketching on the shores of Lake Lucerne, his father’s health broke down, and the responsibility of providing the family’s means fell upon Mr. Telbin. The many friends of his father showered do man commissions upon him, that he had a great difficulty in keeping pace with them. One instance alone may be given of his efforts to cope with the work: for when the manager of the Theatre Royal, Manchester, desired him to paint the complete scenery for the production of “Macbeth,” for a whole month Mr. Telbin worked twenty hours a day, reaching the theatre at 6 a.m., and leaving at 2 a.m. the following morning. Since then his work has been seen at all the principal theatres in London, and need not be referred to in detail here. He has latterly been engaged upon the scenery for the revival of “King John,” after having completed that for “Paolo and Francesca” for Mr. George Alexander. His scenes for “Faust,” executed for Sir Henry Irving some years ago, are seeing the light again in the revival of the piece at the Lyceum Theatre.

We desire now to call to attention to a branch of Mr. Telbin’s work which is not generally known to the public, but which, to our mind, is in its way as important and as beautiful as any of his stage productions. With tempera as his medium he has produced a series of black and white drawings which proclaim him a master in black and white art. For brilliancy of execution, for certainty of effect, sparkle of the touch, and beauty of presentation, these drawings are not easily surpassed. Some of them were reproduced in this magazine in two articles on “Scene Painters and their Work,” published in 1889, and others in a paper on “Iceland,” in 1893. Another series of views in the Mediterranean, more of which are to be published later, are admirable representations of the scenes to be witnessed during the season of the “bora” on the Mediterranean shores. They show Mr. Telbin was a careful and accurate student of nature, with an instinctive feeling for the picturesque allied to an inimitable power and facility of presentation and suggestion.”

The younger William Telbin, the principal scenic artist for Irving, believed that it was better “to work from the back of the stage to the front, since presumably the nearer the scene to the audience the more subtle and detailed its finishing”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 393 – The Fenton Families

Part 393: The Fenton Families

There were two sets of theatrical families with the last name of Fenton during the 19^th century; both families included performers, but one was distinguished for their scenic art contributions. It is the descendants of James Gill Fenton that W. J. Lawrence was referring to when discussing English scene painting family. James Gill Fenton was listed as a prompter and stage manager. He had four children Caroline (b. 1819), Frederick (b. 1820), Charles (b. 1822), and Charlotte (b. 1825). It would be the two boys who would continue as scenic artists and later be listed as well-known scene painters.

James Gill Fenton (1794-1877) was a scenic artist and stage director to Edmund Kean. He was also noted as prompter and stage manager. He passed away in 1877 at the age of 83.

Charles Gill Fenton (1822-1877) began his acting career during the 1830s playing small parts in pantomimes. From 1844-1859 he played principal roles and began performing in Shakespearean productions at Sadler’s Wells Theatre. Between 1863 and 1873, Charles was listed as an actor and scenic artist at the Strand Theatre. In 1866, Frederick Gill Fenton(1820-1898) was an actor and a scene painter. Frederick was working at the Victoria Theatre while his brother Charles Fenton was working at the Strand.

Charles then transitioned to working in Vaudeville from 1873 to 1874. Charles married Carloline Parkes (b. 1838), a dancer and an actress at Her Majesty’s, Sadler’s Wells, Marlebone, Surrey, and many other theatres, as well as, music halls for almost thirty years. She worked in the theatre from 1849-1973. Charles died the same year as his father, 1877, at the age of 56.

A few years later, an article titled “Art On The Stage” was published from the Building News and Engineering Journal, July 29th, 1881

“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 favourite 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.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 387 – Trade Secrets, or the Initiation into the Mysteries of Size and Whitewash

Part 387: Trade Secrets, or the Initiation into the Mysteries of Size and Whitewash

In 1889 W. J. Lawrence commented on the English scenic artists’ contribution to the theatre (The Theatre Magazine, July 13, 1889). He detailed the evolution of “the old odor of disreputability” associated with scenic art in the 1830s, noting the condescending characterization of “daubing,” “white washing,” and “paper-hanging.” He briefly mentions the contributions of Clarkston Frederick Stanfield (1793-1867), David Roberts (1796-1864), William Leighton Leitch (1804-1883), and Joseph William Allen (1803-1852). However, he holds up William Roxby Beverly (1810-1889) as being “the first great scenic artist who knew how to uphold the dignity of the profession,” later describing those who were “initiated into the mysteries of size and whitewash” while acknowledging that most abandoned the paint frame for the easel. Lawrence quotes Chaucer in regard to the scene painting profession, “The lyfe so short, the craft to long to lerne.”

Lawrence goes on to explain that most notable English scenic artists originated from a long lineage of scene-painting families, “so habituated to the scene-loft from their youth upward.” Prominent among these scene painting families were the Greenwoods, Grieves, Stanfields, Callcotts, Dansons, Fentons, Gordons, and Telbins.” Lawrence wrote, “It comes somewhat as a reversal of the usual order of things to find a son beating his father at his own game, and completely effacing his identity by dint of superior genius.” This is a significant statement as it suggests that every generation improved upon the foundations of the previous one, as one would hope in the world of art. Lawrence also credits many of the English scenic artists as possessing a variety of other theatrical skills. He refers to Stanfield’s father as one specific example:

“Very few people nowadays seem to have any knowledge of the fact that Clarkston Stanfield’s father was not only a capital scenic artist, but a man with some pretensions to literary fame. From his fluent pen came the popular Freemason’s song, “Friendship and Love.”

This really accompanies his use of the “initiation into the mysteries of size and whitewash.” I immediately thought back to the 1881 Minneapolis newspaper article that mentioned Charles S. King and his being “initiated into some of the mysteries of stage mechanism.” Any initiation into a special group was founded on the keeping of secrets. In the case of scenic artists and stage machinists, it was the continued practice of innovating techniques that were kept secret from their competitors.

There were scene-painting families that functioned in the similar manner to that of earlier guilds. These groups of artisans closely safeguarded their painting techniques, as these were trade secrets and set them apart from the rest of their colleagues; not all scenic artists were cut from the same cloth, and some were simply better than others. Some also had taken years to master techniques that they would never hand off to a competitor. They expected any new apprentice to slowly acquire an understanding of a skill, as there were no shortcuts, or fast tracks, to becoming a master scene painter.

In London, as well as other places, the “scene-painting fraternity” practiced the ‘exclusive’ system or a closed shop, barring those who had not gone through an apprenticeship. Again, not everyone had the talent, connections, or training to make the cut. The apprenticeship system monetized on a specific artistic approach, as this was a direct attribution to their success, especially when it involved new techniques or technology.

A print depicting some merchant guild emblems.

I think about the Mosaic families in the East and how each group specialized in a unique Mosaic pattern that was passed down from father to son, or master to entered apprentice. I also think back to the cathedral builders and the close kept secrets of masonry and construction techniques. Operative masonry had a specific body of knowledge safeguarded by individual, lodges, masters, passwords and grips to identify a member of their group prior to entry in any meeting. Guilds were never intended as a free resource for inspiring artists, or any artisan who happened to pass along. The function of a guild was not to share resources, but to maintain a standard, adding skills for those who only helped your group surpass the competition. Competitors would attempt to replicate techniques, but it was unlikely that they would ever access the original formula; leaving them to create only poor imitations of the originals. Think of the generic version for a prescription medication. Almost the same, but not quite.

So, lets get back to the introduction of English glazing and its use abroad. The technique in scenic art is credited to a member of the Grieves, a well-known scene painting family in England. This is what set the Grieves apart at the Covent Garden Theatre. They established a new trade technique within their family, that brought them to the top of their profession as noted by Lawrence in 1889. In approximately 1810, John Henderson Grieve was credited with revolutionizing the “ordinary methods of scene painting” by introducing a glaze in lieu of solid colors. He is using a series of translucent layers to create a vibrant depth to the overall composition and it was an instantaneous success with the public. Grieve’s son William, also used the family practice of glazing, and eventually was recognized as the first English scene painter to whom the public paid tribute with a “call” before the curtain in 1832. This scene painting technique was eventually replicated and employed as the accepted technique by English scenic artists by the mid-nineteenth century.

So who were the other families who contributed to English scenic art tradition and eventually beat the Grieves at their own game? Tomorrow, we will start with the background on the Grieves and move to the other families.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 385 – Sosman & Landis – “Working Slapdash Fashion”

Part 385: Sosman & Landis – “Working Slapdash Fashion”

In 1889 W. J. Lawrence suggested that the English school of scenic art in America was superior when he wrote the article “Scenery and Scenic Artists” for “The Gentleman’s Magazine.” It was republished in “The Theatre” (July 13, 1889, page 371-374). Lawrence wrote, “Not only are English scene painters, at the present day, unrivalled in the several departments of their art, but instances are not wanting to show that they have improved the technique and carried their reformation into other countries.” The “improved technique” was the practice of glazing that had replaced the application of the European technique solid colors on backdrops in some schools, but not all American scenic artists adopted the glazing technique.

Two years later, the American scenic artist Arthur Palmer suggested that the English school of scenic art in America was far superior to that from any other country, writing, “English scenic artists as a class possess a breadth and freedom of style that are unequaled by those of any other nationality. These qualities, which are the highest excellences in scene painting, are especially noticeable in their landscapes, which are simply unapproachable, possessing, as they do at once a beauty, a realism and a fidelity to nature which we look for in vain in the work of the scenic artists of any other land” (“The Morning Call,” San Francisco, CA, 22 February 1891, page 13).

Palmer’s and Lawrence’s comments are part of the growing evidence that suggests there was the not only the development of two distinct schools of scenic art in America, but also the competition between the schools. There were those who were adhered to the English school of glazing and those who adhered to the Central European tradition of solid colors, and “never the twain shall meet.” By the late nineteenth century, the Central European school was the predominant one in the Midwestern United States, and subsequently, driving the market. By the 1890s, Chicago was major theatrical manufacturing center, remaining steeped in the European traditions of solids colors. When considering the thousands of backdrops produced by Midwestern scenic artists, it is apparent that they were guiding the accepted aesthetic in the region by sheer volume. If you also consider the influx of immigrants from Europe and Scandinavia to the Midwest at this time, there is a further support of the European painting traditions. Remember that in 1885, twenty of Europe’s top panorama artists were brought to the Milwaukee to work for the American Panorama Company (see installments #276-281). Many scenic artists would work as both theatre artists and panorama artists during the late-nineteenth century. This migration also points to the development of large studios that employed dozens of artists, all needing to worked together and share a similar approach.

In Lawrence’s article, he also commented about the work of scenic studios, and he was not complimentary about the rapidity of their process or the final product. The last section of Lawrence’s article specifically addresses the hundreds of stock scenery installation by the scenery by the firm of Sosman & Landis. Here is what Lawrence wrote in 1889:

“Paradoxically enough, America enjoys at once the somewhat equivocal honor of having elevated scene painting to the highest pitch of artistic excellence on the one hand, and degraded it to the lowest level of mechanical production on the other. While the leading scenic artists, attached or otherwise, have improved the technique by a judicious blend of the various European systems, commercial enterprise and the universal custom of touring have occasioned the upraising of several scenic depots where orders from the innumerable small theatres which abound in the States are completed “with promptitude and dispatch.” Under existing circumstances it is conceivable that the lessee of every miserable little “opera-house” (Americanese for lecture-hall) in Southern America cannot afford to keep a scenic artist on the premises. To meet the demands for the new stocks of scenery which are generally laid in when the little theatre is first erected, several scenic firms have sprung up in St. Louis, Chicago, Kansas and elsewhere, which employ artists of marked inferiority and turn out work which bears as much resemblance to the genuine article as a chromo does to an oil-painting. Produced almost entirely by mechanical means, no wonder it has been facetiously dubbed “patent medicine scenery.” In this way the firm of Sosman and Landis of Chicago, which employs about twenty-five “artists,” has in the course of nine years supplied upwards of a thousand places of entertainment with complete stocks of scenery. That such work falls short of the domain of art is clearly proven by the fact that it is not unusual for these firms to receive an order by telegraph in the morning for a scene, say thirty feet square, which will be completed dried, and sent on its way to the purchaser before nightfall. So far as the scenic depot is concerned the days of glazing and second painting are gone forever. What matters is that the adoption of the broadest system of treatment possible – working slapdash fashion in a full body colors- makes the painting crude and garish? All the more merit: for the average provincial American gives his vote for gaudiness and plenty of it.”

Ouch.

Sosman & Landis “Great Scene Painting Studio” catalogue for the 1894-1895 season, Chicago.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 384 – Sosman & Landis – A Leading Firm in Their Line

Part 384 – Sosman & Landis – A Leading Firm in Their Line

Yesterday, I listed Sosman & Landis scenery installations that were delivered between June 1881 and July 1882. Only nine years earlier the same Macomb Journal reported, “our young friend Joe Sosman” was assisting the “eminent artist T. B. Harrison, of Chicago” (Macomb Weekly Journal, 17 April 1873). Harrison had worked as the scenic artist and produced the stock scenery for the Moore’s Opera House in Nevada, Missouri; Lamar Opera House in Lamar, Missouri; and the New Odeon Theatre in Maquoketa, Iowa (Harry Miner’s Theatre Directories 1884 and 1887).

In Macomb, Illinois, Sosman was Harrison’s assistant when they were painting scenery for the stage – “the focal point” of C. V. Chandler’s Opera House. Of Sosman, the Macomb Journal reported, “Joe has superior abilities, and our citizens will wake up some fine morning and find in him, that Macomb has a first class artist.”

Here is the Macomb Journal 1882 article titled, “SOSMAN & LANDIS – A Leading Firm in Their Line in Chicago – The Senior a Macomb-Raised and Educated Boy” (The Macomb Journal, 13 July 1882). Here is the article in its entirety:

“Nearly all the county readers of the Journal know “Joe” Sosman, and that he is in Chicago in the scenery-painting business, but few, if any, are aware of the prominence of the firm of which he is the senior partner. “The News Letter,” a paper devoted to the theatrical interest, in an article not long since, gave some account of the prominence and business of the firm, which article we append below. We know it will be perused with interest by hundreds of the “Journal” readers, who have a lively solicitude not only for Mr. Sosman, but for every McDonough county boy who goes out in this great world to carve his fortune, his head and hand being his only capital. Here is the article:

“One of the surest indications that Chicago is fast becoming one of the most important dramatic centers in America is the evidence before us, that in all matters pertaining to the theatrical profession Chicago has become, so to speak, a manufacturing center. Theatrical printing, etc., have long been staple industries, but of late years, matters which hitherto might have been considered as peculiarly belonging to the great metropolis of the East, have taken prosperous root in Chicago. Among the industries we refer to is that of fitting up opera houses and out of town theatres.

Some five years ago, Messrs. Sosman & Landis, a firm composed of a couple of enterprising young fellows established in this city what they termed a scenic studio. The beginning gave them a good deal of hard work, but in the period we have mentioned above, their business has grown from comparatively nothing to being one of the most important of its description in the United States. This all speaks volumes for Chicago as a theatrical center, and say what we may, there is no disavowing the fact that next to New York city, Chicago is without a question the most important locality in America in all matters pertaining to general amusement affairs.

Perhaps no better recommendation could be given to the firm we have referred to above than the information which is contained in their circulars to managers, and which tells the actual number of houses they have fitted-up since the first of June, 1881. We give the list as a matter of curiosity as much as anything else:

New Opera House, Rockford, Illinois

Academy of Music, Minneapolis, Minnesota

Grand Opera House, Richmond, Indiana

Hill’s Opera House, Ann Arbor, Michigan

Humblin’s Opera House, Battle Creek, Michigan

Union Opera House, Kalamazoo, Michigan

Russell’s Opera House, Bonham, Texas

Brownsville Opera House, Brownsville, Texas

My Theatre, Fort Worth, Texas

Leach’s Opera House, Somerville, Tennessee

Kahn’s Opera House Boliver, Tennesse

King’s Opera House, Jackson, Tennessee

Stummer’s Hall, Washington, Georgia

Vicksburg Opera House, Vicksburg, Mississippi

McWhinney’s Opera House, Greenville, Ohio

Yengling Opera House, Minerva, Ohio

City Hall, Athens, Ohio

Freeman’s Opera Hall, Geneseo, Illinois

Odd Fellows Hall, Peshtigo, Wisconsin

Hyde’s Opera House, Lancaster, Wisconsin

Klaus’ Opera House, Green Bay, Wisconsin

Storie’s Opera House, Menominee, Wisconsin

Holt’s Opera House, Anamosa, Iowa

King’s Opera House, Hazleton, Iowa

Opera House Nanticoke, Pennsylvania

Opera House Athens, Georgia

Opera House Gainsville, Texas

Opera House Reidsville, North Carolina

Edsell Opera House, Otsego, Michigan

New Opera House, Howell, Michigan

Stouch Opera House, Garnett, Kansas

Germania Hall, Blair, Nebraska

Bennett’s Opera House, Urbana, Ohio

Klaus’ Opera House, Jamestown, Dakota

Opera House, Westville, Indiana

City Hall, Mineral Point, Wisconsin

City Hall, Lewisburg, West Virginia

Opera House, Denison, Iowa

Opera House, Nevada, Ohio

Opera House, Hoopeston, Illinois

Opera Hous,e Cambridge, Illinois

Turner Hall, LaSalle, Illinois

Kolter’s Opera House, Wausau, Wisconsin

Opera House Moberlv, Missouri

Krotz’s Grand Opera House Defiance, Ohio

Opera House, Montague, Michigan

Opera House Eutaw, Alabama

Opera House, Greyville, Illinois

Opera House, Carthage, Illinois

Masonic Hall, Macomb, Illinois

New Hall, Good Hope Illinois

Music Hall, Eau Claire, Wisconsin

Temperance Hall, Seneca, Illinois

Opera House, Jefferson, Iowa

Opera House, Waupaca, Wisconsin

Soldiers’ Memorial Hall, Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Opera House, Mexia, Texas

Opera House, Wilson, North Carolina

Opera House, Newbern, North Carolina

Opera House, Goldsboro, North Carolina

Grand Opera House, Cheyenne, Wyoming

Cosmopolitan Theatre, Miles City, Montana Territory

Arbeiter Hall, Ludington, Michigan

Opera House, West Bay City, Michigan

Opera House, Detroit, Minnesota

Opera House, Lockport, Illinois

Opera House, Fort Atkinson, Wisconsin

Opera House, Grass Lake, Michigan

Opera House Demopolis, Alabama

Opera House, Unionville, Missouri

Opera House, Harrodsville, Kentucky

Opera House, Hancock, Michigan

City Hall, New London, Ohio

Opera House, Stevens’ Point, Wisconsin

A visit to the studio of Messrs. Sosman & Landis, in this city, reveals the fact that these gentlemen at this time give employment to five of the best scenic artists in the United States, and that their facilities for turning out first-class work with promptitude and at reasonable figures is unequaled by any establishment in America. At this very moment these gentlemen are actively employed in fitting-up the interior of one or two of the best theatres in the West, and their large corps of artists and stage carpenters are constantly kept busily at work.

We take some little pride in the success of these gentlemen. It has always been, and still is, our ambition to see Chicago ahead in all matters pertaining to western dramatic affairs, and the unusual success which has attended the venture of Messrs. Sosman & Landis is a feather in the cap of our wishes.

It is true that much of the success attended these gentlemen has been due to the fact that they have proved entirely reliable in all their transactions, and that their work has always been of the very best. They take contracts to fit up the entire stage of any new house in course of erection, and we venture to say from undoubted information that no contract that they have ever undertaken has proved aught but most highly satisfactory. With their success the success of Chicago as a dramatic center is blended, and we are more than glad to see that to-day, in nearly every opera house in the West which is under erection, the contract for fitting up the stage has been let to Sosman & Landis.”

From 1880 to 1889, Sosman & Landis outfitted 1000 thousand theatres. By 1889, the company employed twenty-five individuals. By 1894, the company’s brochures advertised that 4000 places of amusement were using scenery made by their firm. This scenic studio was shaping the industry and they were painting with solid colors as in the Central European approach.

In 1880, Thomas G. Moses wrote that he and Sosman traveled a great deal in the beginning and Landis was always away, traveling to secure orders; Sosman and his crew painted what Landis sold. It would take six months before Moses even meet Landis after being hired as he was constantly traveling across the country to drum up work. Interestingly, Thomas G. Moses left the Sosman & Landis studio for the first time during May 1882, just a few months before this article was published. He left the firm to partner with Lemuel L. Graham. Graham would later found Kansas City Scenic.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 343: “The Artist in the Flies,” Second Half

Part 343: “The Artist in the Flies,” Second Half

This is the second part of an article, “Artist in the Flies,” started yesterday from the New York Tribune (4 Aug 1895, page 14).

“[The scenic artist] is often interrupted in his work, when rehearsals are going on, for while the frame is being lowered it makes a horrible noise, which naturally interferes with the work of the actors.

“Oh, say, up there, won’t you give us a chance to hear ourselves think?” or “Say, just wait a few minutes until se get through the scene and then you can make all the noise you want,” are common cries. Sometimes the assistant, whose work is to run the windlass, pays no attention to the calls from below, and goes right ahead, making all the noise possible, until the stage manager in despair mounts the paint bridge and in a forcible language commands the young man to desist; this he does after growling and grumbling about the delay.

After the scenery has been painted it goes back into the hands of the stage carpenter and his men. In a wood scene or a rural scene there is a great deal of cutting to be done. The leaves and branches are cut away from the canvas which has not been painted.

After the properties have been made – they are usually of papier-mâché – they are sent up to the paint bridge to be touched up with a coat of paint. The stage cloths or carpets are also painted by the artist. The getting up of the scenery is the most expensive part of a production. It is no wonder that a manager is leery of putting on a new piece. The great cost incurred before the curtain goes up makes him hesitate about engaging in a venture which the audience may find dull.

The most expensive scene drop is one which requires a number of faces painted on it, to represent an audience, for instance. Here the services of a portrait painter are generally called in, and each face is actually a likeness. Of course the faces in the background are not as perfect as the front ones. After one season of wear and tear in traveling, the scenery is not a thing of beauty. It is hardly worth storage room. When a piece is to be played a second season, the scenery goes back into the hands of the scenic artist and stage carpenter to be patched up and retouched. A great deal of this old scenery is bought by small out-of-town managers, to whom scenery is only a second consideration. In one-night towns it is often a puzzle to find out “where the actors are at.” The backdrop represents a French chateau and the house in the foreground is an English Inn. The properties used “have nothing to do with the case,” but they help to fill the stage.

It is a small wonder that scenery is in such a tattered condition when it returns after the season is over. The carting of scenery is an important to the stage carpenter, who travels with the company, as the box office receipts are to the treasurer.

In New-York may be found wagons especially built for the transportation of scenery, but few other cities have these wagons.

Advertisement for scenery transfer in Chicago. Julius Cahn’s Official Theatrical Guide, 1906.

Detail from scenery transfer advertisement in Chicago. Julius Cahn’s Official Theatrical Guide, 1906.

When “Rob Roy” was on its travels last spring, the scenery was being carried from the theatre to the railroad station. The wagons were not long enough to carry scenery properly, and the tower of Sterling Castle hung way out of the back of the wagon and touched the ground. This almost drove the stage carpenter to despair, until a happy idea struck him. He borrowed a wheelbarrow, and then hired a sturdy boy to follow the wagon, with the top of the tower resting in the barrow. This scheme worked beautifully for a few blocks, until the boy got tired. He demanded his pay, and said the work was too hard. He could not be induced to resume his journey. Again the stage carpenter put on his thinking cap. “Come, boys, let’s have a drink,” he said to his employees. All retired to the nearest barroom, and when they returned each and every many was perfectly willing to carry the tower on his shoulders down to the train.

All of the big railroads have cars especially adapted for the transportation of scenery. Francis Wilson rents a whole house for the storage of his scenery. He has complete sets with properties, costumes, etc., of all his operas from “The Oolah,” his first production, to the “Devils’ Deputy.” In case of accident by fire or railroad disaster, he will not be obliged to close his season, but can resume it after a few weeks of rehearsals, of one of his former operas. The final resting-place of all the beautiful grottos, ballrooms, etc., is the furnace in the boiler-room down in the cellar of the theatre.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 342 – “The Artist in the Flies,” First Half

Part 342: “The Artist in the Flies,” First Half

Throughout my research, I have encountered a series of delightful articles. They were not only enlightening, but also changed my understanding of theatre history and the late-nineteenth-century scenic art. In many cases, I transcribed these unknown bits of writing and posted them online. I believe that might have worth to other theatre historians and practitioners.

I discovered “The Artist in the Flies” after reading “Stage English” (installment #310) and tucked it away for the time that I would cover the year of 1895 (4 Aug 1895, page 14). The article really resonated with me and reminded me of Thomas G. Moses. This story is a slightly different presentation from the somber depiction of the artistic process described in yesterday’s post. This will be posted in two sections due to the length. This is a wonderful article to read before continuing with the activities of Thomas G. Moses in 1894-1895. Enjoy!

“No Summer Vacation for Him. He is turning out castles, forests, and interiors by the hundred yards in these warm days.”

“The busiest men connected with the theatrical business at present are the scenic artists and their assistants. Before the artist begins his work, the frames have passed through many hands. To begin with, a number of sewing women are engaged to sew the canvas together, for which they receive a certain amount for each yard. After the canvas has been sewed together, it passes into the hands of the stage carpenter, who has put the frames together. The canvas is stretched taut over the frames, and glued and nailed to the wood. This is a trade itself. When the frames are ready they are put upon an immense frame, which is behind the paint bridge, usually at a great height from the stage, up in the flies, where the different drops may be raised or lowered as needed. The paint bridge stretches across the stage from fly loft to fly loft on either side. Here the artist is away from the madding crowd. The scenery receives a preliminary coat of paint, and when dry is ready for the different colors needed in the scenes.

As a general rule, the artist outlines the different scenes and puts in the most difficult and delicate touches, and then allows his assistants to fill in the rest. He is guided by his model, which is set in a complete stage by itself. One artist in an uptown theatre has a small room in the flies where he builds his models on a small scale, and has a complete electric light apparatus, by which he can judge the effect of the different lights on his models. This is a great help to him in his work. The paint bridge is usually crowded with pots of paints, and the uninitiated would wonder how the artist could move around without sending a few of them on to the stage below.

An amusing accident of this kind happened at the old Standard Theatre before it was burned down. The dressing-rooms of the chorus were on a level with the fly loft, and occasionally the bridge was used by the chorus of people who had to make an entrance on the opposite side of the stage. Instead of going into the cellar under the stage, they took this crossing.

One night one of the girls did not heed the flight of time until she was recalled to her senses by the sound of music, which was her cue to go on stage. She rushed through the fly loft and over the paint bridge, not heeding the paint pots with which it was covered. Away went the young woman in a heap on the floor of the bridge, luckily escaping the fate of two pots of paint, which fell to the stage below, completely deluging a “super” who was awaiting his cue to go on the stage. The accident was seen be some of the gallery urchins, who set up a shout of delight. After the accident the paint bridge was the sacred property of the scenic artist.

To be continued…

Here are some images from a Sosman & Landis collection created in 1898. It was for the Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry stage in Yankton, South Dakota. The was a “used” scenery collection, originally created in 1898.

Scottish Rite stage setting in Yankton, South Dakota. Originally painted in 1898, two years after the article was written for the newspaper. This is a Sosman & Landis installation.

Scottish Rite stage setting in Yankton, South Dakota. Stage left side with Rick Boychuk taking photos for research (he provides scale).

Scottish Rite stage setting in Yankton, South Dakota. Looking toward stage right side.

Scottish Rite stage setting in Yankton, South Dakota. JBM tomb back.

Scottish Rite stage setting in Yankton, South Dakota. JBM tomb front.

Scottish Rite stage setting in Yankton, South Dakota. Stage left side and counterweight system.

Scottish Rite stage setting in Yankton, South Dakota. 1898 flat construction.

Scottish Rite stage setting in Yankton, South Dakota. Front of flat.

Scottish Rite stage setting in Yankton, South Dakota. Detail of painting. Sosman & Landis Studio, 1898.

Scottish Rite stage setting in Yankton, South Dakota. Detail of wooden batten at bottom of the drop. Sosman & Landis installation, 1898.

Scottish Rite stage setting in Yankton, South Dakota. Detail of netted edge. Sosman & Landis installation, 1898.

For large picture files, join FB Group Dry Pigment.

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 341 – Green Room Gossip From 1895, the Scenic Artist

Part 341: Green Room Gossip From 1895, the Scenic Artist

Thomas G. Moses worked as the scenic artist at Chicago’s Schiller Theatre during 1895. He painted the settings for all of the productions on their paint frames. He also rented the old Waverly Theatre space as he had more work than could be completed at the Schiller.

I understand that it is hard to appreciate the complexity and demands of the painting process at the time that Moses was working, especially as I discuss the many projects that Moses’ was simultaneously completely during the late-nineteenth century.

Below is an informative article about the artistic process and the role of the scenic artist, published in the Times-Picayune (New Orleans, Louisiana) on February 10, 1895 (page 22). Here is a portion of the article from the “Green Room Gossip” section of the Times-Picayune. It provides additional context for Moses’ story as we move forward:

Heading from the Times-Picayune (New Orleans, Louisiana, February 10, 1895, page 22) that details activities related to the theatre.

“When a manager has finally decided to produce a new play, his troubles have just begun. One of the first things to demand is the proper pictorial equipment. Just as the editors of illustrated periodicals of to-day send their accepted articles to the artist for illustration, so the theatrical manager puts his play in the hands of the scenic artist. Sometimes periodical illustrations cause the reader to wonder whether the illustrator read the story before he made the drawing or whether the cuts got mixed in the composing-room. The play illustrator is too important a factor in the box-office success to admit of similar mistakes.

[The manager] sometimes employs a scenic artist by contract, but usually the necessary assistant rents the space he needs in the theatre and charges the manager for work done for him, just as he charges outside managers for work done for them. The scenic artist, then, receives the manuscript from the manager, reads it carefully, notes from the authors description of scenes whether the locality is special or general, and where the scenery must be “practical” – with real doors to open, trees which may be climbed, fences that may be jumped- and where it is possible to make it purely representative.

The locality is the first point, naturally. Even if none be mentioned, in these days of photography, it is far more satisfactory to find a real locality which would fit the play, and which would, therefore, be more likely to differ from a thousand and one other scenes which have already been used as backgrounds for other general plays. From photographs or sketches of real bits of scenery, the artist most often draws his ground plans for what he considers a good stage picture suited to the action of the play.

These models are then placed convenient to the eye and hand in his studio, the main feature of which is really the back wall of the theatre, with a great paint bridge running about 25 feet above the stage floor. There is a space about a foot wide between the bridge and the wall, and in the space hangs the paint frame. When the stage carpenter has built the scenes according to the artist’s model, the paint frame is lowered to the stage floor, a piece of scenery is attached to it by means of a narrow ledge at the bottom, drops are tacked on and set pieces fastened at convenient points, then the frame is raised until it is where the artist wants it as he stands upon the bridge. The frame can, or course, be moved up and down, at the painter’s need.

The prime coating of the canvas is made of a mixture composed of whiting, glue and water. The artist has several assistants, many of whom are virtually learning the trade, but in exterior scenes the scenic artist himself usually does all of the painting; in the interiors he makes the finishing touches. Of course the work is done by daylight, and it takes a very skillful worker in colors to know just what the effects the various kinds and degrees of artificial light will have upon the painted scenery.

And yet the scenic artist is not too highly valued from a financial point of view. It takes, usually, six or eight years to attain the necessary skill and an average income of $80 a week is considered very good. From the manager’s point of view there is a difference. The necessary scenery for a play will frequently cost $1500 for the carpenter work and twenty-five hundred dollars for the coloring, without taking into account the sums paid for costumes, properties and the innumerable other accessories to proper play-producing.

Until applause greets him on the momentous “first night” and large audiences greet him for many nights thereafter, the manager, be ever hardened, endures endless anxiety from the minute the new play is chosen. If one proves a failure, he will be out a considerable sum at the best, for critics will know if he attempts to use the same costumes and special properties later on, or if he saves the scenery until it can be worked in other plays, a piece at a time; and critics seldom keep anything to themselves. He may have a new scene painted on the back of the old and save a part of the carpenter’s bill, but this is frequently the best that can be done. With all his risks and frequent failures, the theatrical manager is usually the last one to complain. When a play does not go, he simply pays the piper and tries again.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 302 – The Scenic Art of Fred McGreer

In 1900, Fred McGreer described his artistic process to the Cincinnati Enquirer (15 April 1900, page 12). The article’s heading was “Vast Amount of Artistic Labor Contributed by Scenic Artist Fred McGreer Toward the Success of Many Pike Productions. Will Be Shown in Details of Presentation ‘Quo Vadis.’ Some Interesting Light on the Architectural Side of Scene Building – The Artist’s Work.”

Cincinnati Enquirer article from 1900 about Fred McGreer, scenic artist

McGreer worked for two years as the official scenic artist for the Pike Theatre after venturing south from Chicago with Thomas G. Moses. The Cincinnati article is certainly worth posting in its entirety, especially as the newspaper scan is barely legible and I have spent hours deciphering the faded font. The article provides invaluable information pertaining to the scenic art process during the 1890s.

Here is the first section of the article:

“Perched up in a little room on level with the head of a big white lady who holds a cluster of electric lights, over the right proscenium box at the Pike, is a small room in which an unseen factor in many successes at that house toils industriously day after day making for success on the Pike Stage.

The potent influence is Mr. Fred McGreer, the capable scenic artist, whose stage settings at the Pike have been a prominent feature of the 60 odd productions seen at the house during two seasons he has worked there.

The writer, after climbing up a narrow flight of winding stairs and stumbling over bits of scenery reached this little den the other day, and found Mr. McGreer hard at work sketching out the stage plan for Nero’s banquet hall which will be seen there this weekend in ‘Quo Vadis.’ Rich in scenic opportunities, Mr. McGreer had spread himself on this big production, and, judging solely by the care and work he has lavished on it, the scenic side of the piece promises to be a triumph. Leading man and lady, villain or adventuress, or the others have thrilled with the applause at the Pike for their efforts, but Mr. McGreer who has contributed a great share to the stock company’s weekly offerings, seldom hears the same applause for his art as distinctly worthy as that of the players.

If the reader will follow we will take journey into his little den off the third landing of the winding stairs and see if we can’t get a faint peak at the amount of work a new production means to the indefatigable artist. You can imagine you climbed the stairway and arrived at the room, him half out of breath, with the writer who felt how sadly he had neglected his athletics. A generous part of the room is Mr. McGreer, a young man attired in a well-frescoed pair of shoes highly daubed overalls pulled over his other clothing. His sketches are works of art and marks the backdrops used in the course of a season, while at the other end a big roll of paper stands awaiting instructions.

When the photographer arrived, Mr. McGreer had just finished the elevation for the Nero palace. He gave clear insight into the business side in painting a theatrical setting, which the average playgoer sitting in front would never realize from simply looking at it. “We’ll begin at the beginning,” said Mr. McGreer when told that his description of how a scene is built up was wanted. “The first thing that I do is to read the manuscript of the play to be put on. Then comes a consultation with the stage director regarding the practical openings for each setting of the play as every exit and entrance must be letter perfect so that the players will be kept within the point or sight and at the same time be able to make their exits properly. This done I map out the stage plans for the carpenter with the elevations for each set, and he sets to work to make the wooden frames for the various scenes.”

On these plans the frames are all cut out and placed just as they go. Then the heavy drill cloth is fastened to the braces which are attached to the paint frame. This is worked by a windlass that can raise or lower the canvas at will. The artists work on what is called the bridge while painting the scenery. This is a narrow platform suspended about 30 feet above the stage at the rear wall and the paint frames operates up or down close to this so that we can work up to the height on the drop merely by moving the windlass in whatever direction desired.”

Scenic artists painting a drop from the paint bridge and carpenters covering flats on the stage floor at the Pike Theatre (Cincinnati Enquirer article from April 15, 1900, page 12).

Fred McGreer instructing scenic artists on the paint bridge at the Pike Theatre in Cincinnati (Cincinnati Enquirer article from April 15, 1900, page 12).

To be continued…