Scenic Effect – Page 5 – Drypigment.net

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 390 – Clarkston Frederick Stanfield and his Moving Dioramas

Part 390: Clarkston Frederick Stanfield and his Moving Dioramas

The Grieve family’s scenic work for Covent Garden was considered to be exceptional due to their use of transparent glazes, a technique first developed by John Henderson Greive. The Grieve family of scenic artists remained at the top of their profession utilizing this technique until others were able to emulate it, and improve upon it; Clarkston Frederick Stanfield (1793-1878) and David Roberts, R. A. (1796-1864) were two such scenic artsts. Stanfield and Roberts entered the scenic art picture in 1822 when they first started working at the Drury Lane Theatre. It was Stanfield, however, who would introduce movement to the wonderful scenic illusions at the Drury Lane. Roberts was a fine architectural draftsman and scenic artist draughtsman, by the spectacles produced by Stanfield surpassed both Roberts and the Grieves family triumvirate.

By 1823, Stanfield was in the lead at the Drury Lane, creating a succession of ‘moving dioramas.’ In this context, diorama does not refer to the current understanding of a partially three-dimensional painted scene, but a theatre device. Moving dioramas became features of Stanfield’s English Christmas pantomimes during the 1820s. Stanfield’s moving dioramas (what we now may term moving panoramas) were introduced into each of his successive pantomimes; they were considered artistic triumphs and fueled the competition with other scenic artists such as Roberts.

In 1871, E. L. Blanchard wrote that Stanfield “first distinguished himself at Drury Lane by the scenic effects with which he illustrated the opera Der Freyschutz, produced on that stage in 1824.” From that time he remained the chief of the Drury Lane painting-room while Roberts joined the Covent Garden team. Some of Stanfield’s earliest scenes of this kind were in “Harlequin and the Flying Chest,” and his Crystal Grotto in” Harlequin and the Talking Bird” Blanchard reported that they “created a marked sensation” (“Scenery and Scene-Painters” by The Era Almanack, 1871). Pantomimes, or Pantos, appealed to audiences not only for their favorite actors, but also for the processions, tableaux, staged spectacles, and transformation scenes. Stanfield’s moving panorama were enhanced by the use of two moving panoramas that moved simultaneously.

One moving diorama was rolled between two cylinders on the stage. Certain sections were transparent and backlit to suggest the effect of sunrise, sunset, illuminated windows, fire, or other effects. Stanfield’s use of two canvases, one placed in front of the other allowed additional elements to enhance the three-dimensional effect and potential for visual spectacle. The downstage canvas had cut out sections revealing the upstage composition and placing additional elements in the scene. Between the two canvases, profile pieces moved; one example is a sea ship. Stage machinery and the new medium of gas lighting greatly enhanced the painted illusion. Stanfield’s design for “Zoraster” at Drury Lane incorporated a moving diorama that measured 482 feet long.

By 1825, Stanfield produced the great panoramic display titled “Naumetaboia” for a Jack of all Trades (Christmas, 1825), showing the adventures of a man-of-war, from the launch at Dover, its encounter with a gale, the wreck, and the towing into a foreign port. That December, “The Times” theatre review predicted that both Stanfield and Roberts would ‘become highly eminent as contributors to those institutions which have been established for the encouragement of painting in this country’.

Other notable productions mentioned by Blanchard included the 1826 Man in the Moon, that further supported his excellence as a marine painter, with two remarkable scenes called “England’s Pride” and “England’s Glory.” In 1827, Stanfield painted a “fine reputation of Portsmouth in a Gale of Wind for Harlequin and Cock Robin. In 1828, Stanfield painted a moving diorama for Harlequin and the Queen Bee.

Playbill for “The Queen Bee,” listing the scenic effects painted by Clarkston Frederick Stanfield

Playbill for “The Queen Bee,” listing the new moving diorama painted by Clarkston Frederick Stanfield

The audience was taken on a sea voyage from “Spithead at Sunrise,” past the entrance to Portsmouth Harbour, the Dockyard, Gosport, Mother Bank, Isle of Wight with the Royal Yacht Club, Cowes Regatta, the Needles by Moonlight, the Ocean, the Rock of Gibraltar and ending with a “Grand View of Constantinople.”

Roberts was famous for his dioramas, but never produced works which equaled Stanfield’s, such as “the moving diorama of Alpine scenery, or the memorable views of Windsor and the neighbourhood, which included the sparkling tableau of Virginia water, wherein the real element was so effectively introduced” (The Era Almanack, 1871, page 37). Stanfield introduced unbelievably realistic elements on the stage that were supported by the new gaslight. Roberts left the Drury Lane to join the Grieve family triumvirate of John, Thomas and William Grieve at the Covent Garden Theatre by 1828.

Stanfield’s 1829 pantomime Jack in the Box was distinguished by his diorama depicting the pass of the Simplon, the Valley of the Rhone, Domo D’Ossola, and Lago Maggiore, with the Boromean Islands. An exceptional scene in 1831 was reported to be his diorama of Venice for Harlequin and Little Thumb. The following year he created a magnificent painting of the Falls of Niagara, as seen from the approach to Buffalo on Lake Erie, and the Horse Shoe and Great American fall from Goat Island for Harlequin Traveller.

Stanfield’s painting for the 1833 Christmas equestrian spectacle, St. George and the Dragon was “rendered remarkable by his Egyptian diorama, commencing with the great cataracts and showing the ascent of a pyramid.” The next year he depicted Penrith and Carlisle “in the days of yore” for King Arthur; reviews reported on his “admirable scenery.”

In 1837, Macready became lessee of Covent Garden, and produced the pantomime of Peeping Tom of Coventry, for which Stanfield painted a diorama comprising a series of views in the north of Italy, Savoy, the Alps, and through “French Flanders” to the sea. A special paragraph in the play-bill recorded how the distinguished artist had, “as a sacrifice and in the kindest and most liberal manner, quitted for a short time his easel in order to present the Manager with his last work in that department of the art he has so conspicuously advanced to mark his interest in the success of the cause this Theatre labours to support.”

Two years later, Stanfield created the scenery for the revival of Henry the Fifth, including panoramic illustrations of the Storming of Harfleur, the Battle of Aginciurt, and a view of Southhampton with the departure of the Fleet. Stanfield also furnished the exquisite Sicilian views, illustrative of Acis and galatea, that would become the artist’s last “labours for the stage.”

The Grieve family’s contribution to scenic art in England was the pictorial landscapes gracefully worked up with a series of glazes. Stanfield brought the movement and excitement when he set these beautiful painted settings in motion.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 389 – Clarkston Frederick Stanfield

Part 389: Clarkston Frederick Stanfield

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 Stanfields (The Theatre Magazine, July 13, 1889).

Clarkston Frederick Stanfield was the youngest of five children born to James Stanfield and Mary Hoad. He is sometimes erroneously referred to as William Clarkston Stanfield. Like other scenic artists, he came from a theatrical family. Stanfield was born in Sunderland, County Durham, above a shop that was located at the intersection of Playhouse Lane (later known as Drury Lane) and Sunderland High Street. Behind their building was the local theatre.

His father was a merchant seaman who later became a provincial actor, traveling and playing in a variety of performance venues that included theatres, barns, and at race meetings. His appeared on stages from Edinburgh to Scarborough. Some suggest that that Clarkston was encouraged to try his hand at scene painting for his father’s shows, others suggested that it was his mother who encouraged his earliest artworks for the stage. While on the road with his father, he also performed in minor children’s roles. W. J Lawrence included an interesting tidbit in his 1889 article: “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.” That will be a tidbit tucked away for a future post!

Stanfield’s mother was both an actress and artist. She not only taught painting, but also published a children’s book. She passed away in 1801, when Clarkston was only eight years old. Soon after her death, his father remarried a much younger woman – one who had been his ward. The subsequent arrival of several additional children from the union are often attributed to the “farming out” of the older children for various trade apprenticeships. In 1806, Clarkston became apprenticed to a heraldic painter in Edinburgh. His mentor specialized in the decorative painting of coaches. This apprenticeship lasted approximately two years, until the living and working situation became unbearable for Clarkston. He ran away at the age of fifteen and left for sea on a merchant ship, later becoming pressed into service for the navy by the age of 19. Even on the seas, Stanfield continued to paint. Whether he worked on a small projects assigned by his captain or backings for amateur theatrics on board ship, he continued to hone his artistic skills while at sea. At one point he was even sent ashore to do some painting for an admiral’s ballroom.

Stanfield was discharged from the navy after an accident left him unfit to remain in service; this provided him with the opportunity to re-enter the theatre profession. From his father, he possessed many of the necessary contacts to obtain his first work at the East London Theatre (formerly the Royalty Theatre) in Wellclose Square. Although he did not have the benefit of a scenic art apprenticeship, his career soon flourished in both London and Edinburgh after he proved his worth.

It was rough in the beginning, as his colleagues often forced him to work apart – even banning access to the Scene Painting room where he could warm his size-kettle. However, Stanfield’s talent was recognized and he gradually earned the acceptance of his fellow artists. By 1817 he was earning a salary of £3 a week as a principal artist and had acquired an apprentice of his own – Robert Jones. Stanfield was well respected for the speed at which he painted, his endurance, and the quality of his work. To gain additional funds during this time, he continued to work as a decorative painter in the area.

His specialty was maritime scenes and soon met who would become his lifelong friend and fellow artist, David Roberts, R. A. (1796-1864). By 1822, both were both working as scenic artists for the Drury Lane theatre, a venue lit with the new medium of gas lighting.

An article in “The Times” (Dec. 28, 1828) commented on the stunning transformation of the painted settings and Stanfield’s contribution to Drury Lane. The article also mentioned that the prior to Stanfield’s arrival depicted “water as opaque as the surrounding rocks, and clouds;” it was “not a bit transparent.” Stanfield was credited with bringing “a knowledge of light and shade which enabled him to give his scenes great transparency.” In other words, Stanfield was employing the glazing technique as introduced by John Henderson Grieve during the first decade of the eighteenth century. Stanfield had figured out how to replicate the Grieve technique.

Stanfield married twice. His first marriage was to Mary Hutchinson in 1818, producing two children. Sadly, the marriage only lasted until 1821, when Mary died only a month after the birth of their second child. He remarried three years later, taking Rebecca Adcock as his second wife in 1824 and the couple had ten children; his second son, George Stanfield, followed in his father’s footsteps as an artist.

It was reported that the loss of his good friend Roberts in 1864 greatly affected the remainder of Stanfield’s life and his ten years were spent in poor health with rheumatism and a bad leg. He was housebound for long periods of time and unable to work. Stanfield passed away on May 18, 1867, at the age of 73.

To be continued…

There is an extremely well-written article on Stanfield by Dr. Peter van der Merwe, MBE, DL, General Editor and Greenwich Curator, Royal Museums Greenwich. Here is the link to his article: http://www.victorianweb.org/painting/stanfield/biography.html#5

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 366 – “How Theatrical Scenery is Made,” 1898 (translucent drops, part 3)

Part 366: “How Theatrical Scenery is Made,” 1898 (translucent drops, part 3)

An article depicting Joseph A. Physioc’s studio and his design process was published in “The World” (New York, 6 March 1898, page 43). It provides great insight into some nineteenth-century scenic art techniques. Here is the third of four installments describing Physioc’s studio and his artistic process:

Illustration of a Drop Curtain at Harris’ Hudson Theatre, painted by Joseph A. Physioc and published in the New York Times (30 August 1908, page 50).

“The drop in the third act of “The Bonnie Brier Bush” must be transparent, so it is made of the finest unbleached muslin. It is stretched on a frame and then given a coat of starch sizing. This is nothing more than a starch made into paste and thinned down. It is laid on with a kalsomine brush. This stretches the muslin very tight. If Physioc is particularly interested in a drop he may paint it himself, but it is more likely that he will turn it over to scenic painters, who can follow the model and do it just as well.

The whole scene is first sketched in with charcoal, after the canvas is laid out in squares to make sure of perspective. The painter works constantly beside his canvas. The bridge is only three or four feet wide. He cannot walk away and see how the thing will look, and it would not do him much good if he did, because a scene in daylight bears little resemblance to one at night.

Joseph A. Physioc’s paint palette table in his studio. Illustration published in “The World” (March 6, page 43).

The painter simply has to know what his work will look like illuminated by artificial light. In daytime the best scenes are frightful looking things, outrageous daubs for the most part, utterly untrue in drawing and color. Having sketched the scene with charcoal, the painter may lay it in with ink in order to preserve it. Then he lays on a thin priming.

“It looks to be blind and uncertain work to a lay man,” said Physioc, “but the painter knows exactly the effect he is producing. Things that look like mere daubs to the unskilled eye have a deal of meaning to the educated one. The painter can see the broad effects toned down, the yellow turned whiter, the purples grayer, the blues deeper, the pinks pinker. One has to learn these things by going constantly to the theatre and watching the effect of light on scenes and the results of using different tones.”

Nothing emphasizes more clearly the difference between a landscape or figure painting and scene painting than the palette. Your oil artist has a palette which he holds in his thumb and upon which he mixes his colors daintily. The scenic painter has a palette. It is a bench seven feet long and a foot and a half wide. There is a little shelf on the back, which runs the whole length. This supports the colors, placed in dishes like the abominable things in which vegetables are served in country hotels.

The paint palette table of Jesse Cox, currently on display at the Theatre Museum in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa.

a paint dish and brush on Jesses Cox’s palette table, now on display at the Theatre Museum in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa.

There are thirty-two colors in active use as a rule. Of course, a painter blends now and then in order to get an effect. When you look at one of the drops on the frame, you wonder what the painter does with the thirty-two colors. They look amazingly untidy. The painter dips his brush into a jar of very dirty water [size], gathers up some paint, mixes it on the palette and applies it in an offhand manner that suggests a determined effort to get rid of it.

A signed watercolor painting by Joseph A. Physioc that recently sold during an online auction.

When it comes to painting in the river in this “Bonnie Brier Bush” scene, the matter becomes delicate. To begin with, the Drumtochty is flowing along as peacefully and smoothly as Scotch dialect. But the storm causes it to overflow its banks and make trouble, just as the Scotch dialect does when there is too much of it.

The painter must make allowances for the rising and general misbehavior of that river, just as he must make allowances for the sky. The effect is gained by manipulating the back of the drop. If you look at the drop on the miniature stage with the lights in front the Drumtochty is peaceful. Place a light behind and it is moving over the banks and tearing down the bridge. Of course both scenes are painted in, and one or the other is brought out by the different position of the lights and the stereopticon. A stereopticon properly played on a drop prepared with this end in view can give almost any effect. The difficulty is in the preparation of the drop.

After the drop is painted for the sunlight scenes, it must be painted for the night scenes, the dark ones rather. This is done by painting the back. A boy takes his position at the back. A strong light is played upon the drop. It is plain enough where are the trees and other things through which the light is not to shine. The back of these is painted brown or black so that they are opaque. Whereas the sky, the interstices in the foliage and river are left translucent so that the red light behind it will suggest a sunset, and a blue light will convey the idea of a moon and so on.

It will, therefore, be seen that the relation between lighting and the scenery is peculiarly intimate, and Physioc’s reason for taking up the mysteries of lighting as well as painting is apparent. It may be remarked incidentally that in this third act in Ian Maclaren’s dramatized story the audience is in London, before Westminster, to be exact. The change is made in a few seconds.

“This Westminster drop is a good deal harder to paint that the Drumtochty scene,” says Physioc. “It doesn’t require any creative power or any great draft upon the imagination, but it must be exact for the reason that Westminster Abbey is a reasonably well-known piece of architecture. Not only is it necessary to make a close copy, but we must be careful about the coloring. As a matter of fact, the majority of people cannot see Westminster Abbey as it really is. Therefore we must paint it as the majority think they see it. This holds good in the whole realm of scenic painting. If we were absolutely truthful, if we copied nature as closely as may be, the scenes would be frightful failures. The truth, the actual thing would look not in the least a bit real. We must present what the greater number thinks is true, and this makes the difference between good and bad scene painting. We cannot forget for an instant that people look at our work over the footlights.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 365 – “How Theatrical Scenery is Made,” 1898 (scale models, part 2)

Part 365: “How Theatrical Scenery is Made,” 1898 (scale models, part 2)

Below is an article depicting Joseph A. Physioc’s studio in New York, published in “The World” during 1898 (March 6, page 43). It provides great insight into the scenic art profession and design process at the end of the nineteenth century. Here is the second of four installments:

“The average person who goes to the theatre and is delighted and amazed with the beauties of the settings has the most shadowy idea of how they are brought about. He cannot grasp the enormous amount of work involved.

When a scenic artist is engaged to make the settings for a new production. The play itself is first read to him, or he may be permitted to read and study the play for himself. The manager determines how elaborate the scenes are to be.

The scenic artist is supposed to be able to roam over the wide world. He must know how a bungalow looks in India and make himself familiar with the vegetable life and foliage of the country. He must go research back in ancient Egypt of into modern Africa. He must know architecture and the habits and life of the people who appear in the play.

Of course the scenic painter carries these things and a thousand others that he must know in his head. But he must know where to turn for them. Sometimes the research requires months.

Then he must carefully study the action of the play and make all allowances for any business that is of more or less importance. He must preserve the harmonies. For instance, the surroundings of the romantic play like “Under the Red Robe” would be entirely different from a pastoral play, although they might be held in the same place. That which is called the optique de theatre must be preserved.

The scenic artist must so design the scenery that it may be easily handled, and above all, every piece must be so made that it will pass through a door of 9 feet 6 inches. That is the size of doors of baggage cars, and it is expected that every play will “go on the road.”

Physioc is now working upon the scenery for “The Bonnie Brier Bush,” and it serves as an excellent opportunity to illustrate the method of preparing for a big production.

After reading the play, he secured pictures of Drumtochty – actual photographs. He secured photographs of the houses and the furnishings. He read up on the manners of the people and made sure about the tables and chairs and the clocks and all manner of things.

Having gathered his material he prepared to lay out the scenes. First he drew a sketch on a piece of paper – a rough pencil sketch. Some of the minor interior scenes he worked out swiftly enough. The more important scenes were studied over for a long time. A day was spent over the final sketch of the third set scene, which is the most effective of the play.

Then he set about making the model, and this is the most important part of the whole process. It is an exact miniature representation of the scene as it will appear on stage.

It shows the Drumtochty in the background, spanned by bridges. In the middle ground the road apparently sinks into a depression. On the right is a hill, on the left a rye field surrounded by a stone fence.

The first difficult thing is perspective. Stage perspective is absolutely false, according to the rules of art and optics. But it is true to itself. The reason lies in the flat stage. The base line cannot conform to the line of vision. Therefore it is necessary to make an imaginary base line some five feet above the real line.

The color scheme is less important from the first. Your scenic painter must paint one scene to meet all manner of meteorological conditions. In this particular scene the action opens in the morning, late in midsummer. The mist is rising from the river and the mountains. This effect is secured by means of gauze and screens. Then the sun shines in splendor. Everything is bright and brilliant. The rye n the field is waving, the leaves in the trees are rustling. The lights are largely responsible for this effect.

Then a tremendous mountain storm breaks forth in darkness and fury. Again are the lights is to be depended upon, but the scenery must be so painted that the lights can be effective.

The rear drop is made to bear the burden. It is translucent. Throwing a light in front with the back dark makes one effect. A light back of the drop produces another. Wherefore it will be seen that the painting of these drops is a silicate matter. They must be effective, artistic, and have a similitude of truth under wholly different conditions.

Physioc finishes his models very carefully. He makes them to a scale of three-quarters of an inch to a foot. Every tree is in its place and painted carefully. The foliage is cut out exactly, as it is in a finished scene. And this is the only work that the artist does not do himself.

The finished model is firmly supported on a frame. It is about three and a half feet long. Then it is taken to the miniature stage for the final test. It is slipped in place and it only remains to turn on the lights.

In order to carry out the illusion, this little stage has a proscenium arch. It has footlights of different colors and all manner of other lights, including a calcium effect. The lights can be regulated so that any degree of brilliancy may be had. Physioc has established an electric-light plant of his own, simply for his miniature stage.

The switchboard is exactly like that in a theatre. It is much bigger than the stage itself. There are red lights, blue lights, combinations giving the effect of dawn, of early morning, of high noon, of dusk, of night, of storm and moonlight, every possible thing in the way of lighting on a stage is shown with this model. Nothing is left to guess work. It is perfectly demonstrated how a finished scene will look. If there is anything wrong, it can be corrected.

If you ever look at scenery at close range, you will understand what an advantage this miniature is. Physioc has found this device, which is his own invention, of enormous value. Often he has torn a model apart because the test showed that it was not satisfactory.

If the model meets with approval, then the making of the actual scenery begins. Of course the rear drop is the first thing painted, as this dominates the whole setting.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 347 – Thomas G. Moses during the First Half of 1896

Part 347: Thomas G. Moses during the First Half of 1896

Thomas G. Moses continued to financially struggle during the first half of 1896. Scenic art projects included a production of “Mountebank” for Frederick Warde; a production of “Sea King” for J.H. Shunk (Chicago, proprietor of the Calhoun Opera Company); a production of “Santa Maria” for Camille DeArville, “the Queen of comic opera”; a theatre installation in Anderson, Indiana; stock scenery for the Hopkins Theatre in St. Louis, Missouri; and a small project in Toledo.

Thomas G. Moses painted the scenery for “Santa Maria,” starring Camille D’Arville in 1896.

By early May, Moses traveled to Boston where he painted a production of R. A. Barnet’s “The Merry-go-Round. ” It was a project for Harry Askins. Of the production Moses wrote, “I was fortunate enough to make a hit in Boston. The show was fairly good.” The Boston Post reported the show as “a brilliant burlesque of contemporary local interest by R. A. Barnet, which will be given a colossal spectacular production,” featuring 150 people with 500 costumes (17 May 1896, page 10). The production team for “The Merry-go-Round” included William A. Seymour (stage producer); Thomas G. Moses (scenic artist); Mme, Seidle (costume designer); W. E. McQuinn (Musical Director); Gustave Sohlke (Ballet Master); Joseph Halliday (mechanical effects); and J. G. Estee (Properties), and others.

Thomas G. Moses painted the scenery for Harry Askin’s “the Merry-Go-Round” in 1896 (Boston Post, 17 May 1896, page 10)

During his absences from the studio, Moses left Ed Loitz in charge. Loitz was his long-time assistant and friend. In reality, he was Moses’ “right-hand man” for almost every project that he accepted. Whether working at Sosman & Landis or not, Loitz remained loyal to Moses and accompanied him on many adventures. He would still be working with him in 1923. However, in the scenic studio, Loitz was no Moses. When Moses was away, production slowed down. Furthermore, Moses’ stylistic flare was absent from the final product when he was on the road.

As with many studios, one name was on the work, but the painting was competed by many hands. That is one of the significant feature that made the Fort Scott Scottish Rite collection so unique; in 1924, it was solely painted by Moses on site – no big studio crew. In most cases, a Scottish Rite collection was composed of dozens of backdrops in a very limited timeframe, thus necessitating many people simultaneously working on the project. There are very few of these Scottish Rite collections that can solely be attributed to one scenic artist and a stage carpenter. They provide a unique glimpse into the past when individual artists were forced to complete a massive project by themselves. You can tell on certain drops when they were running out of steam.

Other 1896 shows that weren’t recorded in Moses’ typed manuscript included “The Bells.” The Times Herald reported, “Manager [Ira J.] LaMotte has given Mr. Clay Clement a superb scenic production of ‘The Bells,” painted by Thomas G. Moses with costumes by Schoultz & Co., so that a complete production in every detail can be expected” (7 Nov. 1896, page 7). Moses also painted the scenery for “The New Dominion” that toured with “The Bells.” The St. Louis Post – Dispatch commented that both plays were painted “from the brush of well-known scenic artist, Thomas G. Moses” (31 August 1896, page 2). The St. Joseph Herald reported “The company carries a car load of scenery from the brush of Thomas G. Moses of Chicago” (St. Joseph, Missouri, 29 August 1896, page 3)

Moses also painted another “Ben-Hur” set in 1896. A Tennessee newspaper article described how the Women’s Board of the Tennessee Centennial were preparing for the production of the grand spectacular at the Vendome (The Tennessean, Nashville, 10 May 1896, page 9). The article reported, “The scenery used is from the brush of the celebrated scenic artist, Thomas G. Moses, of the Schiller Theatre, Chicago, and the subject of the play itself offers spectacular effects the best opportunity of any amateur production ever had in Nashville.”

The description of this particular production is especially delightful, as it provided a sense of Moses’ designs:

“The play will begin in the lonely desert where the Magi meet, Joseph and Mary will appear at the Joppa Gate, and the Wise Men will arrive at the Damascus Gate in search of him who is born King of the Jews. The appearance of these men before Herod and all the Bible story will be vividly presented.

The scenes will again shift, and Ben Hur will be introduced in all the beauty and strength of his youth. The succeeding scenes will carry him through the thrilling experiences of the tale, from the home of happy companionship to the sad position of a galley slave.

The famous chariot race will be introduced, and this part is almost unexcelled in scenic pantomime. The reuniting of the separated families will be shown, ending with the dramatic farewell to Iras. The production will close with a beautiful transformation scene, Iras’ Dream of the Nile. In this closing view is represented $10,000 worth of scenery and costumes, and taken together with the many pretty faces of Nashville’s society girls, it will be the most gorgeous spectacle to gaze upon.”

Although the amount of scenery produced by Moses and his crew during the first half of 1896 seems somewhat staggering, it was simply not enough for him to survive on his own. Sosman & Landis had been keeping a watchful eye on their former employee and decided to approach him that July. They were still short one man and Moses was now desperate. It seemed to be a good time to bring him back on board for a reasonable price.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 328 – Thomas G. Moses and “The Witch,” 1895

Part 328: Thomas G. Moses and “The Witch,” 1895

Gustave Frohman married Marie Hubert, an actress best known for her performance in “The Witch.” In 1895, Moses designed and painted the scenery for “The Witch” at the Schiller Theatre. Of the production he wrote, “I certainly injected plenty of local color, for it created some talk. One newspaper critic said, ‘Even the scene was imbued with witchcraft.’ It was during the days of witchcraft at Salem, Mass.”

Article from the Chicago Tribune (27 Nov. 1895, page 49). This advertisement made me giggle as I thought, “What better show to see as a Thanksgiving Matinee!

The Chicago Tribune announced that “The Witch” was a picturesque American play by Philip G. Hubert and Marie Madison (17 Nov 1895, page 42). It was a companion piece to the dramatization of the “Scarlet Letter,” performed in Chicago several years earlier by Richard Mansfield. The article continued, “it presents a series of striking pictures of the puritan, psalm-singing, preaching, praying, witch-burning life of Salem town in the early days.”

Here is the plot of ‘The Witch,” as published in the Chicago Tribune ” (19 Nov. 1895, page 5):

Walter Endicott, a Salem youth, while hunting in the forest stumbles upon a Roman Catholic chapel attended by a venerable priest; his gentle ward, Leontine, an abandoned child, fruit of an unblest union, whom he has destined for a nursery; and an Indian, Amooka, who loves Leontine. Walter falls in love with Leontine and the priest reluctantly unites them. Six months afterward Walter resolves upon a journey to Salem and on his way is secretly attacked by Amooka, who leaves him for dead, and when he is rescued and revived by strolling citizens of Salem he is arrested as a spy. In the role of the heroine, and to release the hero, Miss D’Arville dons the uniform of an American officer and enters the enemy’s camps as a deserter. Having grown considerably stouter Miss D’Arville’s uniform has its own difficulties in adjustment. The British General’s wife, Mrs. Grumm, overlooks and accepts the new arrival as a man. Being impressionable she falls victim to the supposed gallant’s fascinations. Accepted into the British forces, the General’s wife proceeds to get the recruit a uniform. Instead of donning it the heroine assumes the dress of a maid, and comes forward with the announcement: “How good it does feel to get back into women’s clothes and to be able to breathe without being afraid something will break?” Viewing her as a maid, the General himself becomes enamored, a proceeding which greatly amuses Mrs. Grumm. To further the joke she furnishes an evening gown to the supposed young man in which to attend the ball. In décolleté costume, which f course strengthens the verity of the situation, the fortunes of the heroine reach the close of the second act. In the third happiness is attained, the lover having been aided to escape, and Washington forwarded important papers to the heroine. In the maid’s dress and in her ball gown Miss D’Arville appeared in all her accustomed attractiveness, and proved herself in excellent voice.”

The review also noted, “Thomas G. Moses has painted five sets of scenery for ‘The Witch,” which together with special costumes and other accessories, will be taken direct to New York after the initial three weeks run at the Schiller.” The scenes of the five acts were: Father Ambrose’s mission; the commons in old Salem; the old Salem Prison; the old Salem Court House; and daybreak on Gallows Hill.

Advertisement for “The Witch,” painted by Thomas G. Moses in the Chicago Inter Ocean (1 Dec 1895, page 15).

While on tour, the Philadelphia Enquirer reported, “The beauty of the scenes of Gustave Frohman’s production of ‘The Witch,” its fidelity to historical data, while preserving every dramatic possibility, and the good acting of Marie Hubert and the company surrounding her, have made the production an artistic success, which it is a pleasure to chronicle” (1 Dec, 1895, page 18).

To be continued…

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Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 324 – “The Storming of Vicksburg” Spectacle in the Jackson Park Amphitheater

Part 324: “Pain’s Storming of Vicksburg” Pyro-Spectacle and the Jackson Park Amphitheater

In 1895 Thomas G. Moses wrote, “The year opened good. So much so that I was obliged to get more room so I rented the old “Waverly” and put new frames back where the old ones were. They had all been torn out when Sosman & Landis gave up the lease, as it was only month to month, and that was the best I could get, as the building was owned by a Cincinnati man, and it was in the courts and had been for several years.” Moses was already using the paint frames at the Schiller theatre, so this was his second painting space. The Waverly space was the same one that Sosman & Landis rented for Moses and his crew in 1892 for all of their subcontracted work. It measured 93 feet wide by 210 feet long and 40 feet high with four paint frames and plenty of floor space (for more information about the Waverly, see installment #244).

Moses’ recorded that the first project in the Waverly studio was scenery for an outdoor show called the “Siege of Vicksburg.” He wrote, “it proved to be an artistic success only.” I believe that the show Moses referred to was actually Pain’s “Storming of Vicksburg” that was performed in the amphitheater at Jackson Park.

Advertisement for Pain’s Storming of Vicksburg in Jackson Park, from the Chicago Tribune (23 June 1895, page 36). Thomas G. Moses created scenery for this production.

The Inter Ocean reported that the “Grand Historical Spectacle Arranged by Pain,” was selected to mark the Pain’s return to Chicago (Inter Ocean 23 June 1895, page 9). His company was the Pain Pyro-Spectacle Company of London and New York.

A photograph of another production created by the Pain Pyro-Spectacle Company – Last Days of Pompeii. Published in the Street Railway Journal (May 1896, page 317).

A photograph of another production created by the Pain Pyro-Spectacle Company – Carnival of Venice. Published in the Street Railway Journal (May 1896, page 317).

The Jackson Park amphitheater was massive and sat 12,000 people; reserved chairs were seventy-five cents and box seats a dollar for the “Storming of Vicksburg.” 100 arc lights illuminated the space every evening for the show that started at 8PM. Advertisements promised “Gigantic, thrilling, and beautifully pyro-spectacular military production.” The show was listed in the Chicago Tribune as a “Grand Revival of the Glorious World’s Fair Midsummer Night Fete” and included “600 people on the monster stage” with “12 acres of massive scenery” (23 June 1895, page 36). Other newspapers reported that 800 people were involved in the production.

Advertisement from the Chicago Tribune (23 June 1895, page 36). Thomas G. Moses recorded that he painted the scenery for this production.

The spectacle depicted the siege and final surrender of the Southern stronghold on the Mississippi. It opened with “a presentation of Southern life in slavery days” that included the performance of songs and dances by a “colored chorus of 100 jubilee singers” (Inter Ocean, 23 June 1895, page 9). After this musical opening, the battle began along the banks of a constructed river, measuring 350 feet long and 100 feet wide. A gun was fired, followed by the capture and execution of a Union spy. Then there is the arrival of war vessel, that include Farragut’s gunboats, Porter’s fleet of mortars, and the rebel ram “Arkansas.” Grant’s land forces enter the scene and the batteries open up for fire. After twenty minutes of intense battle, Vicksburg bursts into flames and Pemberton surrenders.

At the close of every performance, there was a display of fireworks. This was common a common finale by every spectacle created by Pain Pyro-Spectacle Company. Newspapers reported that $1,000 was spent on the fireworks display nightly.

On July 4, 1895, an Inter Ocean article provided a little more information about the fireworks display, commenting that the day marked the thirty-second anniversary of the fall of Vicksburg (page 6).

Below is a section of the article that described the fireworks display in great detail. I was astounded at the numerous descriptions and names.

“The pyrotechnical programme arranged for this performance will rival many of the grand displays seen by Chicagoans at the World’s Fair, some of the features of which are as follows: Salute of maroon or aerial cannons, fired from iron mortars and exploding at a great altitude with a tremendous report. Magical prismatic illumination with lights of intense brilliancy, which change color repeatedly and finally blend with pleasing effect. Flight of monster balloons, carrying the most powerful magnesium lights and tri-colored fires, discharging, when at a great height, batteries of Roman candles, showers of golden rain, and superb jewel showers. Sunflower wheel, thirty feet in circumference. Flight of rayonet tourbillions, revolving oriental wheels. Flight of large shells, forming jeweled clouds, studded with gems of every hue. Celestial stars – rayonet fires marooned. The aerial acre of variegated gems. Nests of writhing silver snakes. Flight of twenty-three-ball concrete rockets, exhibiting the rarest tints, peacock plumes, silver streamers, triple parachutes, etc., etc. Twin fiery dragons, flying to and fro and performing most amusing evolutions. Salvos of gigantic bombs, forming a golden cloud, studded with jewels. Great silver fire wheels, with intersecting centers, forming a chromothrope. Display of mammoth shells, twenty-four inches in circumference, displaying at an immense altitude showers of rubies, sapphires, laburnum blossoms. Flight of rockets with peacock plumes. Aladdin’s jeweled tree, with blossoms of every hue, terminating in a fairy fountain. Swarms of wild snakes. Fireworks portrait of George Washington. Flight of infant parachutes. The monkey gymnast, an amusing piece of pyrotechnic mechanism. Aerial bouquet, produced by the flight of asteroid rockets. Salvo of aerial saucissions, filling a space in the air with wonderfully brilliant fires of grotesque form. The Kalediescope, with intersecting centers, cutting a silver spray with colored fires, the whole concluding with a revolving sun, 150 feet in circumference. Discharge of monster aerial wagglers. Parisian novelties – rockets with silver threads. Salvo of thirty-inch bombs – prismatic torrent and silver clouds. Groves of jeweled palms. Finale, grand flight of 1,000 larger colored rockets fired simultaneously, producing a grand and magnificent aerial bouquet.”

For the July 4, 1895, performance, the Jackson Park amphitheater was packed with 12,000 people. An additional 5,000 people were turned away from the packed venue. Wow! I could not get over the fireworks descriptions and marveled at the complexity of the pyrotechnics program. Who could afford to fund this endeavor?

“The Storming of Vicksburg” was produced by the Coliseum Gardens Amusement Company, in conjunction with the Pain Pyro-Spectacle Company, or London and New York. The local company was composed of the principal stockholders in the Chicago Exhibition Company, which built the big coliseum on the old Buffalo Bill “Wild West” lot on Sixty-Third Street. Past productions by Pain included “Last Days of Pompeii,” “A Night in Pekin,” “The Siege of Sebastopol,” “Capture of Vera Cruz,” “Carnival of Venice,” “Paris from Empire to Republic,” and “Japan and China.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 323: Thomas G. Moses and “Little Robinson Crusoe” at the Schiller Theatre

Part 323: Thomas G. Moses and “Little Robinson Crusoe” at the Schiller Theatre

Illustration in the Chicago Tribune (9 June 1895, page 38)

In April of 1895 Thomas G. Moses designed and painted scenery for “Little Robinson Crusoe” at the Schiller Theatre in Chicago. The musical burlesque was for Thomas W. Prior and intended as their summer attraction. Moses wrote, “We had a great opportunity and I am pleased that we took advantage of it… We introduced some very good effects.” The “we” was Moses and Walter Burridge. The Indianapolis Journal reported “The scenic environment of the play is all from the brushes of two natives of the United States, and well-known scenic artists, Thomas G. Moses and Walter Burridge” (1 Sept. 1895, page 10).

Advertisement for “Little Robinson Crusoe,” Chicago Tribune, 23 June 1895, page 36.

A review of the production was published in the “Amusements” section of the “Inter Ocean” (2 June 1895, page 37). It noted that Prior had obtained the libretto from Harry B. Smith, a Chicago writer.

Harry B. Smith with his son Sidney in 1892. Smith would later write the book and lyrics for “Little Nemo” in 1909.

For the show, W. H. Batchelor wrote much of the music. The review noted that he had “furnished some clever compositions for local productions during the past few years.” Gustave Luders, the musical director at the Schiller, was also contributed a musical piece – the “cannibal chorus, with accompaniment of native instruments.” Costumes for the production were designed “Mr. Denslow,” who was reported to be a “newspaper artist.” The review also included a detailed description of the scenery and that it had been “painted upon the frame of the Schiller by Thomas Moses, the artist of the house.” Moses had left Sosman & Landis and was striking out on his own again, with much success.

Review of “Little Robinson Crusoe” with scenery by Thomas G. Moses. From the Chicago “Inter Ocean” (2 June 1895, page 37).

Here is a portion of the Inter Ocean review, as I found it absolutely fascinating:

“The action of “Little Robinson Crusoe” arises in the English seaport town of Hull, arranged very much up to date, the scene including a fashionable summer hotel, a view of the beach and ocean, and groups of summer boarders about, among them girls in fancy costumes, a la ‘Daily Hints from Paris;” dudes in white flannel suits, and the girls, of course, in stunning gowns, splendidly and beautifully arrayed. An odd idea of Smith’s has been to introduce in this ultra-fashionable scene, in the full beauty of a glorious summer day, a pawnbroker’s shop and auction-room, kept by one Hockstein, over whose door is painted “Philanthropist,” with the sign of the three golden balls. Precisely why Hockstein’s pawn shop should be so close to the fashionable summer boarding house is explained in the story by the suggestion that the mammas, the girls, and the dudes are all so likely to get flat broke, and they need Hockstein’s kindly services not only to pay their board bills to the landlady of the Anti-Fat Hotel, but to get home again.

The second act opens on the deck of a modern war vessel of the first-class battleship, with its polished cannon and general nautical equipment. This action of the third act is laid in Robinson Island, with its strong contrast to the fashionable dresses of the summer watering place of today, created by native costumes, tropical foliage, etc. The piece concludes with an elaborate and entirely original transformation scene, designed by Thomas G. Moses, the artist of the house, and his assistants, which represents a vision under the sea in transition effects, from the bed of the ocean up through the homes of the funny tribes, culminating in a brilliant and opalescent picture of beauty.”

The article also reported “the scenic features which will be made specially attractive, are the sea beach scene in the first act, the deck of the ship ‘Adventure.’ With tableau of the wreck, Robinson’s home in the Valley of Palms upon the South Sea Island, a rocky coast and the raft scene, and the Grand transformation, a vision ‘neath the ocean..” The Chicago Tribune reported that Manager Thomas W. Prior “has given Thomas G. Moses carte blanch for the scenery” (9 June 1895, page 38)

Moses recalled that Eddie Foy, Marie Dressler, and Adele Farrington were in the cast. Foy played Dare-Devil William, an amateur pirate. Marie Dressler played Ophelia Crusoe, Robinson’s aunt who had romantic admiration for pirates. Adele Farrington played Robinson Crusoe, Captain of the H. M. Marines. One thing that I have noticed over the years is that Moses typically did not include the names of many performers, and I was surprised to see the names of three actors attached to one production. I was curious to learn about Foy, Dressler and Farrington, the three who warranted comment in Moses’ typed manuscript.

Eddie Foy pictured in “Little Robinson Crusoe,” Chicago Tribune, 23 June 1895, page 36.

Eddie Foy was born Edwin Fitzgerald in New York City in 1856. Foy’s father joined the Union Army in 1862, where he soon died of syphilis. By 1863 his mother moved their family to Chicago where Foy found work as both a newsboy and bootblack to help support the family. The Foy home was destroyed during the great fire of 1871 and Eddie sought work as an entertainer, working with a variety of partners and touring the country. In addition to acting, Foy incorporated singing, dancing, clogging, blackface, acrobatics, and impressions into his acts. By the 1890s, Foy starred in a series of large-scale musical spectacles for the Chicago-based producer David Henderson based on popular tales, such as Bluebeard Jr. (1889), Sinbad,(1891), and Ali Baba (1892). The 1896 show Little Robinson Crusoe. It was in Little Robinson Crusoe where he paired with Marie Dressler.

Marie Dressler pictured in “Little Robinson Crusoe,” Chicago Tribune, 23 June 1895, page 36.

Marie Dressler. Actress, opera singer and author of autobiography, “Confessions of an Ugly Duckling”

Dressler was born Leile Koerber in Cobourg, Canada in 1869. When she was 14, she joined a traveling stock company, bringing along her sister to not only function as her chaperone, but also play a few small roles. She later joined the chorus of an opera company. In an unbelievable turn of events, she ended up playing the role of Katisha in “The Mikado” after the lead actress sprained her ankle and the understudy was unprepared. Her success led to a series of other roles, and soon she was supporting her family with the proceeds from her career. Interestingly, the title of Dressler’s autobiography is Confessions of an Ugly Duckling. Despite her success as a singer and actress, she gravitated toward character roles for comedy.

Adele Farrington depicted in “Little Robinson Crusoe.” Chicago Tribune, 16 June 1895, page 36

Adele Farrington (1867-1936) was born in Brooklyn and started her career in musical comedy, touring the vaudeville circuit with Dressler. Later she was featured in stock companies. At the age of 47, she became a film actress and appeared in seventy-four films between 1914 and 1926. Her husband was Hobart Bosworth, actor and film director. Unfortunately, the marriage didn’t last as he left her for a younger woman and started a family in 1920.

Moses also wrote about one scene in the production, “Our big storm at sea was so realistic the audience was terrified and after the first show we had to modify it.” Two months later, the “Inter Ocean” confirmed this change in an article from the Amusements section. It reported, “The ship-sinking scene, in which Eddie Foy (Daredevil Willie) and Marie Dressler (Ophelia Crusoe), both clinging to the highest bulwarks of the old-fashioned three-decker ship, the Adventure, are submerged beneath the waves. This is quite a vivid stage picture, and so admirably executed that it really partakes of the sensational and surprises the audience” (4 Aug. 1895, page 33).

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 321: M.M. Maffey and the Spectacle du Petit Lazari

Part 321: M.M. Maffey and the Spectacle du Petit Lazari

I just had to dig a bit deeper about the first show with Daguerre’s paintings as I was really curious about M. M. Maffey. Why had Daguerre selected Maffey to market his dioramas in America? What skills did he bring to the table? How was Maffey an asset? After a bit of digging through French publications from the 1820s, I believe that it was his puppetry skills – the movement that occurred behind the translucent sections of the paintings, as they were backlit. They incorporated a type of shadow puppetry. I believe that the backlit figures were painted paper puppets where you could see the detail clearly in translucent sections. I had encountered similar transparencies used by Volland & Toomey for their Scottish Rite scenes. For example, Jesus was painted on paper and lightly glued to the back of a translucent sky section.

View of backside of Scottish Rite drop in Quincy, Illinois, with the front light bleeding through to the backside.

It’s just that some of the figures moved. In short, Maffey assisted backstage during the show, while Lonati worked the front lights. Plus, Lonati, would be in the house during the performance. Maffey was the perfect person to have on board and backstage.

You see, there was an “M. M. Maffey” associated with Spectacle du Petit Lazari in Paris on boulevard du Temple during the 1820s. In 1823, Journal De Paris et des Départmens Politique, Commercial et Littéraire published numerous shows at Spectacle du Petit Lazari de M. M. Maffey, every day from six to nine (Tous les jours, depuis six heures jusqu’a neuf).

Mention of M. M. Maffey and his connection with Theater de Petit Lazuri during the 1820s.

The following information was published in Journal De Paris et des Départmens Politique, Commercial et Littéraire – (three issues: 8 septembre, 13 septembre, et 24 octobre 1823):

1. Werewolf (Loup garou)

2. A Point of View of Naples (un point de Vue de Naples)

3. Harlequin King in the Moon (Arlequin roi dans la Lune)

4. A Point of View of Mexico (un point de vue de Mexico)

5. Pulcinella Vampire, or the Sybille de Balzora, parody (Polichiuelle Vampire, ou la Sybille de Balzora, parodie)

As I continued my search for Maffy, I stumbled across a wonderful book – John McCormick’s “Popular Theatres of Nineteenth-century France” (1993, page 42-43). Here is the paragraph in its entirety as it gives a little more context. McCormick wrote, “There is an interesting document of 1837 in the Archives Nationales from the Brothers Maffey, requesting permission to open ‘Gymnase maritime et pittoresque’ (presumably some form of panorama specializing in sea-scapes – the term Gymnase implies a vaguely educative function. In it Maffey mentions traveling in France and abroad, and then returning to Paris in 1820 and setting up in a little theatre on the boulevard du Temple, which they called the Petit Lazari. The document says: “the genre which we have been exploiting from father to son for fifty years is simply a fantoccini show [i.e.string marionettes] and mechanical views after the fashion of Citizen Pierre [proprietor of a famous ‘spectacle mécanique’ on the boulevard. They also described themselves, currently, as “artistes mécaniciens’, a common term to cover many sorts of showmen, including puppeteers. Other references to the Maffeys are few.”

McCormick writes that Maffey claimed to have a license in 1822 for their performances at the Petit Lazari, and by 1824, the performances at their Spectacle du Petit Lazari moved beyond puppet shows and into Acrobates and Funambules. So, the 1823 shows were likely titles for puppet shows. After a brief closure, McCormick noted that in 1825, the venue reopened as a puppet theatre and then disappeared from the “Almanach des Spectacles” until 1830 when it established a troupe of live actors playing parodies, farces and melodramas.

So Maffey, as a puppeteer, would have been a great asset to both the manufacture and tour of “Daguerre’s Dioramas” as they were backlit to reveal the second scene with movement. Maffey’s presence behind the scene would suggest the movement with opaque figures, or flat puppets. We know that applying a translucent section of a backdrop will reveal either painted images, or pasted prints/paintings. Backlighting the scene reveals the hidden subject on the backside. The same principle would be applied to flat printed, or painted, puppet that moved across a translucent section. This would explain the movement of high priests in the Temple of Solomon, or floating gondolas in the Venice compositions previously mentioned.

I thought back to my MA thesis that explored the Japanese Influence on French Symbolist Theatre. Twenty-five years ago, I was examining the work of the Nabis toward the end of the twentieth century, the Chat Noir Theatre, and some theatrical productions of shadow puppetry that appeared incredibly innovative for the time. However, the idea of shadow puppets in the nineteenth century was nothing new.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 320 – King Solomon’s Temple

Part 320: King Solomon’s Temple

First generation of Scottish Rite scenery for Cincinnati by E. T. Harvey in 1882. He painted the scenes at Heuck’s Opera House.

In New Orleans during 1842, there was an advertisement for Daguerre’s “Chemical Pictures…representing the wonderful effects of Day and Night – (Oil Painting) – and which, by modifying the light upon the picture, exhibits two entirely distinct representations upon the same canvas” (The Times-Picayune, 20 Dec. 1842, page 3). By this time there were four scenes touring with the exhibitions:

1. The Sicilian Vespers, or Palermo in 1292! – A Graphic Episode

2. The “charming” Valley of Goldau, in Switzerland

3. The “admired and unrivalled” Interior of the Church St. Etienne du Mont, at Paris representing a Midnight Mass

4. The “magnificent view” of the City of Venice on a Festival Night.

A few things are happening at the same time as M.M. Maffey & Lonati’s show of chemical paintings reaches New Orleans. First and foremost – their show is imitated and there are now two sets of exhibitions with competing proprietors. In the same 1842 New Orleans newspaper, there was another advertisement for a similar exhibition just below Daguerre’s Chemical Pictures. The competition advertised, “the beautiful and magnificent paintings copied from those of the celebrated Daguerre, whose illustrative, wonderful and magic powers have been subject of great admiration through all Europe.” There were extremely detailed descriptions of transformation scenes in the Times-Picayune (20 Dec. 1842, page 3) depicting:

1. The Inauguration of Solomon’s Temple

2. The Falling Down in the Valley of Goldau (Switzerland)

3. The Interior of St. Stephen’s Church

By 1843, the competitors added a fourth painting – “The Interior of the Monastery of Mount Serrat, in Catalonia” (The Times-Picayune 15 Jan 1843, page 3).

Scottish Rite backdrop depicting the interior of King Solomon’s Temple – the Holy of Holies, ca. 1902. By Toomey and Volland Studio.

Golden gates leading to sacred artifacts in the Holy or Holies, or Sanctum Sanctorum, in King Solomon’s Temple. Toomey & Volland backdrop for the Quincy Scottish Rite from the early twentieth century.

Scenic design by Don Carlos DuBois (Great Western Stage Equipment Co. employee) for the Scottish Rite.

I kept returning to the inauguration of Solomon’s Temple – what an appropriate introduction for New Orleans considering its Masonic lineage. It is important to remember that the construction of King Solomon’s Temple and the assassination of its chief architect Hiram, play a prominent role in the degree work in Freemasonry. This historical tale was reenacted and expanded with additional events surrounding King Solomon’s Temple on nineteenth-century Masonic stages.

Holy of Holies design for the Scottish Rite in Joplin, Missouri (1902) by Toomey & Volland. This backdrop is now part of the Deadwood Scottish Rite collection.

Keep in mind that membership in Freemasonry and other organizations perceived as “secret societies” greatly diminished after a period of anti-Masonic sentiment, commencing in the 1820s. The decline of membership and change in societal attitudes is often attributed to an event called the Morgan Affair. To very briefly explain this event, Morgan is abducted after planning to publish Masonic secrets. His disappearance and presumed death were attributed to the Freemasons. Not all areas of the country suffer a devastating membership loss. Some regions only were subject to a minor decline in membership. There are some Masonic lodges that remained open during this period as others are forced to close their doors. Eventually, the Fraternity began to resurge by the end of the 1840s.

The Times-Picayune (New Orleans) advertised the Inauguration of the King Solomon scene as one of four “Grand Diorama!” (December 29, 1842, page 3).

The Times-Picayune (New Orleans) advertised the King Solomon scene as one of four “Grand Diorama!” (December 29, 1842, page 3). “An Exhibition as yet never known in this city – This day, will be exhibited the beautiful and magnificent paintings, copied from those of the celebrated Daguerre, whose illusive, wonderful and magic powers have been subject to great admiration through all Europe.” The first painting in the set described in the advertisement was “The Inauguration of Solomon’s Temple.” Here is the description:

“This painting represents the magnificent Temple of Solomon, son of David, which he caused to be erected in Jerusalem. Seen in the daytime, it exhibits to the spectacular the richness and elegance of its exterior architecture.

The same Painting soon after passes through all the modifications of light: then night comes on, (effects obtained by the decomposition of light, a new process of painting invented by Daguerre,) the Temple appears illuminated interiorly by degrees, reflecting a bright light exteriorly, which discovers a great multitude of people flocking to adore the Ark of the Covenant, which the High Priest has deposited in the Tabernacle.”

From December 1842 until March of 1843, there were twenty-seven advertisements for King Solomon’s Temple. If I were a Mason and witnessed the aforementioned scenic effects at the end of a room, I might envision the possibilities during degree work. Especially if the an exterior view of King Solomon’s Temple transformed into the interior and then revealed the Ark of the Covenant, I would want to share this vision with my fellow Masons. This was a group, after all, that was already familiar with lighting effects that revealed hidden symbols and objects painted on fabric and backlit, as described for the Rite of Perfection (the basis of the Scottish Rite that originated in France).

To be continued…