Sosman & Landis: Shaping the Landscape of American Theatre. Employee No. 28 – Wat Williams

Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Watkins “Wat” Williams was a scenic artist who worked at Sosman & Landis from 1909-1916. Later in life he credited Truman Curtis for helping him secure his first scenic art job with Walter W. Burridge in Chicago. He credited Curtis as his first art patron, having bought a couple of his  studies when attending John Francis Smith’s Art Academy and the Art Institute of Chicago.

In 1909, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “Watt Williams came into the studio and worked as my assistant. Pretty good, but very careless.” There is no indication as to how long Williams worked at Sosman & Landis. However, by 1916, he had moved to New York where he continued scene painting and then opened an art gallery in Greenwich Village.

Wat Williams was an incredibly difficult individual to track down, but after piecing together a variety of random historic sources, his story was quite interesting. Wats was another scenic artist who worked in both Chicago and New York during the early twentieth century.

Watkins “Wat” Williams was born on August 9, 1882, in Detroit, Michigan. He was one of two children of Judson M. Williams (1856-1929) and Elizabeth “Lizzie” A. Arthur (1860-1925). Judson  was a printer in Detroit who worked for the Free Press during the 1880s. In 1896, the Williams family moved to Chicago in 1896, where Judson continued to work in the printing industry. At the time of the move, Wat was only fourteen years old, and his sister Lucy (1885-1942) was eleven years old.

By the 1910 Federal Census, Watkins Williams was listed was as an artist in the scenery industry, still living at home with his parents. This would have been the year after Moses hired him at Sosman & Landis. Wat continued to live and work in Chicago throughout 1915.  Like Moses and many other Sosman & Landis scenic artists, he became a member of the Palette & Chisel Club. Williams executed Gus Baumann’s designs for the Club’s private production of “The Shredded Vest” on May 18, 1912. He was also involved in another production in 1915. On May 4, 1915, the “Edwardsville Intelligencer” reported, “The Limit in Chicago. Chicago May 4 – Shades of Maj. Funkhouser and Anthony Comstock! With little on them but the spotlight, three young girls, who, those who saw declare, could have given Miss V. De Milo a tussle in a beauty show contest, last night performed before the Chicago Society of Artists in the rooms of the Palette and Chisel Club. ‘Sea Nymph,’ ‘Dawn,’ ‘The Vestals’ and ‘Luxury’ were some of the living pictures shown. The young women were posed by Glen C. Sheffer and Watt Williams, artists. They announced it is time ‘people began to lose their prudery’ and that they are negotiating with one of Chicago’s largest theatres to put the living pictures before the public. Some of the men and women who saw last night’s affair said something larger than the biggest theatre would have to be selected.” (Edwardsville, Illinois, page 8).

Williams also exhibited stage designs for a Palette & Chisel Club exhibition in April 1916 at the Art Institute of Chicago. The “Chicago Tribune” reported, ““New Exhibit at Institute. A unique event in the life of the Palette and Chisel Club in Chicago will take place on Tuesday evening, April 25, at the Art Institute. For twenty years the club has been holding its annual exhibitions at its own clubrooms. Tuesday night all precedent and tradition will be violated and its large and interesting collection of the last year’s activities along art lines will be shown at the Art Institute of Chicago. It is to be an extremely comprehensive exhibit, including in its scope not only paintings and sculpture, but the work of some master craftsman as well, men who apply their artistic talents to the usable things of life, incurring thereby the lasting gratitude of the practical masses.” The article noted that Wat Williams was a scenic artist at Sosman & Landis who “designed and painted the scenery for the immortal Sarah Bernhardt on her last American tour.” 

In 1915, Watt married Elwyn Jennings. Their wedding announcement was published on Dec. 14 1915 in the Alexandria Times-Tribune (Alexandria, Indiana, page 3): “Announce Engagement. Word has been received here of the approaching marriage of Miss Elwyn Jennings of Chicago, Ill., to Watkins Williams, and artist, also of Chicago. Miss Jennings is the niece of Mrs. Thomas Downs, of this city.” The couple was married in Wilmette, Illinois, on Dec. 15 of that year. Wilmette is due north of Chicago on the shores of Lake Michigan, near Evanston. Illinois.

Elwyn Jennings Williams passport photo in 1919.

Jennings was the daughter of John H. and Ida Jennings of Wilmette, born on Dec. 20. 1894. Her father was a clerk at the First National Bank of Chicago, and the family lived at 426 10th St. There is no indication as to how Jennings and Williams met, but it was likely in the theatre as Elwyn was a costume designer. Much of the couple’s early marriage can be tracked on their passport applications and port arrivals.

By 1916, Wat was working in New York City as scene painter. That year he applied for a passport to visit France on behalf of the Y.M.C.A. He was described at 36 years old, 5’-8” with broad forehead, grey eyes (and glasses), prominent nose, drooping mouth, square chin, brown hair, dark complexion and oval face. Picture included with passport. Also included was a letter from the War department stating that they had no objection to “Williams, Wat of 150 West 4th St., N.Y.C. being sent for duty with the A. E. F. in connection with Y. M. C. A., signed by J. S. Moore, Capt. U.S. Army. After returning from overseas, the Williams settled in Greenwich Village where they were associated with The Paint Box Gallery. Williams also began working on various projects at Fort Dix, including painting murals in several recreation buildings. On July 18, 1918, the “Trenton Evening Times” reported, “A number of New York mural artists have offered their services in decorating the building, among them being David Robinson, portrait and magazine painter and his wife, Adella Klaer, also a noted painter; Howard Heath and wife, and Watt Williams of the famous Watt Williams Art Gallery. These will assist in the planning of the decorations and in the work itself and Elmer Adler, secretary in charge of the hut, has received offers from a few friends of part of the funds to pay for the work.” It was a close-knit community of artists and the works of Klaer (monotypes and paintings) were exhibited at The Paint Gallery in 1919. Williams’ 1918 draft registration listed that he was self-employed as a painter and working at 43 Washington Square, the address of The Paint Box.

On September 14, 1918, “American Art News,” reported, “The Old Paint Box Gallery of Greenwich Village is no more. The stable with its white-washed stalls has passed because Wat Williams is going ‘over there’ with the Y. M. C. A. His wife will remain here however, and she will have a greater Paint Box at No. 43 Washington Squ., where she can show paintings and play chess between times” (Vol. 16, No. 37). Well, his wife Elwyn also applied for a passport and began her own travels as a costume designer by the fall of 1919.

In 1918, Williams also worked on an outdoor event that simulated an Italian County fair. On June 28, 1918, New York’s “The Sun” reported, “Fifth Ave. Festa For Italy’s Blind. Real Old Country Fair Held in Front of Public Library. Italy moved to Fifth Avenue yesterday – not war-stricken Italy today but rural Italy of a happier time when the people in the quaint and beautiful old towns could make merry in their county fairs and there were no lovers and husbands at the front door to be anxious about – no enemy hammering at the door. A bright colored, singings, dancing Italy it was the liens guarding the Public Library looked down upon.

Bobby Edwards, whose normal occupation around Greenwich village is playing his ukulele made out of a cigar box, designed the whole fete from drawings by De Falle and other Italian artists. Watt Williams helped him, and flocks of pretty girls, and the Metropolitan opera chorus, and Giordani, the donkey, and his picturesque green and red garbed driver, and vegetable men, who nobly contributed their almost priceless wares. And movie actresses, and Raymond Hitchcock assisted in carrying out the ideas of Wat and Bobby” (page 6).

Wat was mentioned by the “New York Tribune” on Dec. 15, 1918, in the article “Poets Who Toil” by Lionel C. Moise. The subheading for the article noted, “In Greenwich, war left a golden trail of prosperity behind.”  Wat was included as “another prominent villager who got a job at the plant and held it was Watt Williams, who runs art of perpetual exhibition, entitled “The Paint Box” – admission 10 cents. He doubled the previous rate of production for the job to which he was assigned within a week after he entered.”

Wat also became a contributing editor to Greenwich Village’s “The Quill.” Between 1918 and 1919 there were multiple announcements and advertisements for “The Paint Box Gallery.” Keep in mind that New York’s’ Greenwich Village was considered America’s Bohemian capital in the 1910s and 1920s.  Photographer Jessie Tarbox Beals (1870-1942)  captured images of many shops at the time and exhibited her work at The Paint Box Gallery in 1919 (“Evening World,” 6 Sept 1919, page 7).

In April 1919, “The Quill” reported, “Old Wat Williams is showing some new art at the Paint Box Gallery; conservative and extreme art by the master of Duplex art, Howard Heath; art that the public can understand as well as art that the artist can understand. Art to art to art re–.” Also included in “Round Our Square,” was: ”Wat Williams says, anent the Provincetown Players, ‘The too-muchness of nothingness is a feeling of life gone out.’” The Paint Box also featured the psychochrome theories of Leon Engers Kennedy. On February 16, 1919, the “New York Tribune” announced, ““Mr. Leon Engers Kennedy is exhibiting a group of Psychochromes at the Paint Box Galleries, Washington Square South. Mr. Kennedy explains that “Psychochromes” translated means “soul color,” and “the eye of the soul directs the hand of the craftsman.” Earlier in January, 1919,  “The Quill” reported, ““Wat Williams [owner of The Paint Box and contributing editor of The Quill] tells us that he is to have an exhibition for the coming month of the psychochromes of Leon Kennedy. Rallying the remnants of our education, which did included Greek, we should infer that the gentleman indicates with color what he thinks of your soul. We do not hazard a guess as to the meaning of an excessively blue portrait of Alestair [sic] Crowley, but we remember that dark red indicates a lust for murder, and would hesitate to have ourselves committed to canvas. When one stands in front of the portrait of la belle Madame X in the Metropolitan, one understands that she may have suspected Mr. Sargent of treating her a bit roughly, but with Mr. Kennedy, if you only have the color key, ‘it makes no doubts,’ as a charming French friend’s English has it. You know just what he thinks of you.”

On July 8, 1919, “The Evening World” included an article entitled “Hugh Ferris Shows His Work at the Paint Box” (NY page 10). He included a sketch of the gallery as part of his exhibit that was mentioned in the review: “His drawing of the old Paint Box, adapted from the converted stable, is very delicately executed.”

This was the same year that Elwyn Williams applied for her first passport. Her application noted that she was a Costume Designer, sailing to France for work. The Paint Box Gallery address on Washington was listed for the address of her employer, with her home residence at 213 W 147th St. Elwyn was planning to travel for six months.  In 1920, she returned, and was listed on the incoming passenger list from London, arriving in Montreal November 1920. She was listed as a Costume Designer “c/o the American Consul, London.”  Elwyn continued to travel, an in 1921 venture to Yokohama, Japan, also for work. Information pertaining to Incoming passengers notes that she was currently residing at 426 10th St, Wilmette, Illinois; this was her parents’ home at the time.

Despite Elwyn’s travels, the 1920 Census did not list her living with Wat. Although he was listed as married, Wat was now living with James A. Giel, a 37 yrs. old newspaper reporter from New Jersey. The couple eventually divorced, but I have yet to locate any records to verify their legal separation.  I have also been unable to discover any other information about Elwyn Jennings Williams.

In regard to Wat, he continued to work as a scenic artist and was repeatedly mentioned in the “Scenic Artist” section of “The Billboard.” On September 24, 1921, “The Billboard” reported Williams has been engaged to paint the sets of the Irving Place Theater. ‘Lilliom’ is to be the first production. This is the same production that is playing on Broadway, and the Jewish production received a very flattering comment on the beautiful scenic work” (page 21).

On March 1, 1928, “The Scenic Artist” included an article entitle “Wat Williams Speaking” (Vo. 1, No. 11, page 1).

“My Dear Editor:

You are going on to the first coast to coast conference with Bro. Toner: John Toner and I used to work for the well-known Sosman & Landis of the City of Chicago where you will meet.

You were telling me the other day of your experience in Chicago (in the day of the wooden sidewalk) and your experience as an impresario for real bottled beer. Beside the Chicago boys you will probably, I hope, have Truman Curtis, the president of the Los Angeles Local, as one of the delegates. Truman was my first art patron, having bought a couple of my studies when we were studying at ‘Smith’s Art Academy.’ Truman got me my first job in a scene painting place (don’t hold it against him” with Walter Burridge, then in Chicago. This goes back about a quarter of a century. At that time the urge to form some organization of the scene painter was dreamed of but that it should extend from coast to coast was not thought of. I should like you to bring attention to the fact preached to us by Walter Burridge that it is not simply a job of scenery; but that the main purpose of the artist in the theatre is a service problem; that of making the stage ensemble a work of art as truly as any picture of designs. The second thought would be to bring to the attention of the conference the desirability of establishing Examining Committees to stop the entry of people who will finally be a drag to the organization and themselves. These two problems are just as alive now as a quarter of a century ago.

Can I tack on a little about due collection? Nels Astner and myself are planning a drive to have our members see the desirability of paying their dues three months or more in advance instead of quarterly in arrears. It will not only lighten the burden of housekeeping but stop the damage that suspension brings to our members. On each month a third of our members are notified that they will be suspended if payment is not made at the end of the month. I believe that they will really see that the advance payment plan is desirable for all concerned.

I would like to make a personal appeal to our members to make their payments direct to the Financial Secretary of mail it, addressed to him. The habit of giving it to anyone else, especially without forwarding book at the same time, may cause everyone connected with it loss of money as well as extra work for those, already busy up to their neck.

We are making no new laws – simply enforcing those now on the books. Laws are not flexible or open to interpretation to suit individual cases – by officers less than anyone. Individual cases needing special construction will be laid before the Executive Board and a member’s chance for serious and just consideration of his appeal will not be depending on his nearness to the local. If you don’t advise us, we do not know your troubles.”

The report was published the next month in “The Scenic Artist” – Official organ of the United Scenic Artists Association at 161 West 44th Street, New York City (Vol. 1, April 1928, No. 12, page 1), entitled “The Chicago Conference.” It started  “The report of the Chicago and New York delegates to the Scenic Artists Conference in Chicago held at Chicago on the last three days of last month has been read to their several members and approved by them. The recommendations are clear, concise and easy to understand.

It may be hoped that every scenic artist regardless of what special line he follows, will see the advantage of a uniform basis upon which we as a craft may sell our services.

By a commonly accepted definition of the term stock, production and presentation, we shall without causing the slightest flurry, neither in our own of the producer’s ranks, have arrived at a definite way of knowing how to classify what a member is doing. Not what he must do – or must not do; but simply made it possible to really know whether work – of any sort – is being done according to Union rules or not.

Productions must of course be done under rules laid down for a Studio – let the Studio be permanent or temporary – old established or primitive; no one presumes to dictate as to the shape or nature of the building. The rules concerning Studios are as before as regards to charge-man, artist and helpers. Scenery traveling from place to place is of course a production: – or else what is?

Members running Studios shall not contract for Stock in such places as our rules clearly state that an artist shall be employed on contract.

Stock, as far as our craft is concerned, is scenery built and painted for a theatre to which a member is under contract.

The salary of the artist is stipulated with that specific clause being clearly understood.

As before, an artist under stock contract shall – by organization – be required to limit his work to the theatre he is employed in, and shall not engage in outside contracting or production work during the time of such employment.

Presentations may be done by one artist if necessary, provided it is only for one house.

A member may design and contract for as many presentation houses as he can handle provided his work is carried on according to the rules of the association. A rising scale of pay based on equity and economy was agreed on and a field very apt to run wild, and for that matter pretty difficult to control properly, has been defined.

Every angle of the craft was given close attention and where necessary thoroughly discussed. The object of the conference was not to inject a lot of new kinks, but for the explicit purpose of arriving at a uniform wording and interpretation of all rules, by-laws, contracts etc. thereby making the first great step toward a unification of the entire craft. The ambition of single members to rise and soar is fine; but it should have a proper take-off. Too often the member who throws his lot with the side to whom he has to look for monetary returns makes a fatal mistake. Agreed that he has the right to conduct business, even to destroy himself; but he has no right to jeopardize the livelihood of fellow members. It would be better all around if he should lend all his strength to his organization and help to convince purchasers of our work that the best way is the cheapest after all.

There is no call for individual members of our craft to make frantic efforts to cheapen either our standards or our product. The cheapening of scenic art may be safely left to those who are not members of our craft.

The rules are there. The rules are simple; it only remains with the members to take advantage of them.

The Chicago conference consisted of Chas. E. Lessing, chairman; NY; Orville Lyman, Chicago; Peter Donegan, Chicago; Herman Bartels, Chicago, and John Toner and G. VC. Fisher, New York.”

Williams continued to live and work in Manhattan throughout the 1930s. Although still listed as married, he was living by himself at 74 West 37th Street .

By the 1940s, Williams returned to Chicago. His 1942 draft registration card listed Williams residing at 1447 N. Wells St. In the box that noted the person who would always know his address, Williams wrote: “United Scenic Artist – Woods Bldg.”

Williams died in Chicago on Oct. 19, 1945. He was buried on Oct. 23 1945 in Mount Hope Cemetery in Worth, Illinois.

Wat Williams’ portrait attached to his passport application.

Sosman & Landis: Shaping the Landscape of American Theatre. Employee No. 27 – Fred Scott

Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

A unique last name can guide research, helping track down an individual in historic records and newspaper articles. However, a really unique last name causes difficulties due to continued misspellings throughout the decades. Similarly, common names in a region are also a nightmare, varying from one state to another.  For example, in Minnesota, Scandinavian immigration caused an abundance of Johnsons, Olsons, Nelsons, and Petersons in city directories. Any of these last-name issues are compounded when individuals traveled for work, such as scenic artists and stage mechanics. Of all the scenic artists working at Sosman & Landis, Fred Scott may be the most difficult one to track down due to the commonalty of his last name

Fred Scott was a scenic artist at Sosman & Landis, c. 1904-1911, although this period of time could realistically span from 1889-1923. Part of the problem in tracking down information about this particular scenic artist is that there are multiple listings for artists named Fred or Frederick Scott across the country. Even narrowing the search to Chicago from 1890-1910 is problematic due his common last name.

Long after Scott’s employment at Sosman & Landis, he was remembered by Thomas G. Moses, Art Oberbeck and John Hanny. Scott’s earliest association with the firm was recorded by Moses in 1904. That year, Moses left his position at Moses & Hamilton in New York and returned to Chicago to work at Sosman & Landis. It was at this point that Moses became vice-president of the firm, a company shareholder, and was given complete aesthetic control over all projects. This meant that he still painted as a scenic artist for the firm, but now supervised all of the design, construction, painting and installation.  Moses’ return did not sit well with all of the studio artists. In 1904, he wrote, “When Mr. Sosman announced to the ‘gang’ that I was coming back and would take charge of all the work, there was much dissention among a few. Fred Scott tried to start a mutiny and quit, hoping the others would follow. But none did, and he came back. I put him on for he was a clever painter.”

Scott was also remembered by Oberbeck and Hanny, who started as paint boys during the first decade of the twentieth-century. Both men were interviewed later in life by Randi Givercer Frank for her Master’s Thesis, “The Sosman and Landis A Study of Scene Painting in Chicago, 1900-1925” (University of Texas, Austin, 1979).” In her paper, Givercer includes brief mention of several staff members at the studio. Both Oberbeck and Hanny remembered Scott, but in varying ways. She wrote, “Fred Scott was an excellent colorist. Oberbeck thought that Rider and Scott were the only two scene painters who used Scott’s color theory that every color must have an undertone. According to this theory, every color used in painting must have the same color in it to hold it together. Oberbeck painted ten or twelve Masonic Crucifixion scenes with Scott. To start, they would lay in the entire drop in ultramarine blue. Every color from the extreme light tones to the most dark, would have a little of that blue in it. Similarly, in Masonic treasure Room scenes, layered-in in burn umber, every color used would have some umber in it.”

That being said, Givercer later wrote, “Scott was a very bitter and eccentric man, The boys in the studio were afraid of him; he didn’t get along with many people. If something went wrong when he was painting, he’d take a six-inch brush, dip it in all the colors along the palette, stand back, throw it in the middle of the drop, and walk off. Or he would tear the drop off the frame in a fit of rage. Scott refused to let his son even talk about becoming a scene painter, but he did help the young boys at Sosman & Landis. He gladly taught Oberbeck anything he could, until Oberbeck was earning more money that he was. John Hanny once received a surprising letter from Scott, in which he gave him encouragement and constructive criticism. At another time his advice to Hanny was: If you’re unfortunate enough to want to be an artist, if you insist on being an artist – for heaven’s sake, be a good one.”

Moses mentioned Fred Scott again in 1911. At the time, the Sosman & Landis studios were extremely busy, with projects keeping both the main studio and annex studio on 20th Street. Moses left Nicholas J. Pausback in charge of the studio during his absences. That year Moses wrote, “Pausback had his hands full; Scott acted bad.” This does not paint a picture of a kind and considerate individual. Yet it suggests that Scott may have been skilled enough for an employer to overlook his basic personality flaws.

To date, I have only located one Cincinnati newspaper article that mentions a scenic artist named Frederick Scott in the twentieth-century.  In 1898 Sosman & Landis has branched into theatrical management and sent several scenic artists to Cincinnati to work on several projects. On Nov. 6, 1898, the “Cincinnati Commercial Tribune” credited scenic artist Frederick Scott with the scenery for Brady Stock Company’s ‘Cyrano De Bergerac’ at the Star Theatre. The article reported, “The scenery for the new play is being made up by Scenic Artist Frederick Scott. Five elaborate sets will soon be completed.”  This newspaper article places Scott in Cincinnati at the end of the nineteenth-century, possibility already working for Sosman & Landis. The Cinicnnati city directory listed an artist named Fred Scott for the years 1899 and 1900. Although no workplace is noted, Scott was living at 1312 Sycamore.

Article about Frederick Scott from 1898.

I have narrowed my Fred Scott search down to one likely candidate in the Chicago City Directory, an Englishman who worked as an artist in Chicago, beginning in the mid 1880s.

The only bread crumb is the mention of Scott refusing to let his son even talk about becoming a scene painter. Unlike single men who move from one city to another, a family is a bit easier to track in census reports; or so I thought until this particular quest. However, marriage and obituary notices for children often provide a glimpse into the lives of their parents.

My research suggests that Scott relocated his family from London to Chicago in 1891. Like some immigrant families, a father or older son journeyed to American prior to moving his family. This meant that they were able to secure work, gain income, and have adequate funding to cover the move of their family. This is how my grandmother traveled from Poland to the United States. Her older brother came first, and he gradually raised enough money to send for each sibling; one at a time.

My research indicates that Scott began working in Chicago in the mid-1880s. He is first listed in the Chicago City Directory in 1885, Frederick Scott, living at 274 Avon pl. He is again listed in the 1888 and 1889 Chicago Directory, working at 512, 70 State, and boarding on Clark Street.  This is not meant to say that he did not return to visit, marry, and plan the relocation of his family. So, here is the history that I have located to date.

Frederick Scott was born on Aug. 6, 1854 in London, England, the son of Alice and Samuel Scott. He married Ethel Julia Grant Ketchum in 1890, and moved both wife and infant daughter to Chicago in 1891. The Scotts were counter in the 1891 London Census before emigrating to America. This meant that he missed being included in the 1890 Federal Census. However, by 1900 Scott was working as an artist and living at 5019 Turner Street in Chicago. At the time, the Scott family included his wife Ethel  and children Marjory (b. May 1890, England), Granville (b. April, Illinois), Edwin (b. Feb. 1899, Illinois) and Bobs Victor (b. May 1900, Illinois). The Chicago birth record for Granville lists his parents as Frederick Charles Scott and Ethel J. G. Ketchum.

Within the first decade of the twentieth century, Scott’s marriage ended, and his wife remarried another artist. Ethel married Edwin S. Mitchell on Sept. 19, 1908. Her wedding records note that he was the daughter of James Ketchum and Matilda Grant, born on October 31, 1865, in Poona, India. He mother was Scottish and her father English.

The 1910 Census listed Ethel and Edwin living in Chicago with their five children from previous marriages:  Ethel Marjory Scott (19 yrs.) and Granville Scott (14 yrs.) were listed as Edwin’s step-children, while Edwin K Mitchell (11 yrs.), Victor A. (9 yrs.) and Dorothy V. (4 yrs.) were listed as his biological children. Georgia was later born (1911). The two would celebrate the birth of Georgia in 1911. I am skeptical about Edwin and Victor, as those were also the names of Ethels and Fred’s youngest children.

The 1920 census provides a little more information about this blended family. Ethel M. and Granville are now adult children, still living at home. Ethel M. was working as a cashier for a Music Co. and Granville working as an electrician. In regard to their father, Fred Scott appears to have vanished from print.

I have yet to track down any obituary for Fred Scott, a second marriage record or any other historical record that suggest what happed to Scott after his wife remarried. Other than Moses’ mention of Scott in 1911, there is no further record of his work as a scenic artist.

To be continued…

Sosman & Landis: Shaping the Landscape of American Theatre. Employee No. 26 – Hanson D. Puthuff

Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Hans Putuff was a scenic artist at Sosman & Landis, c. 1906-1909. He worked with Victor Higgins and the two gifted a painting to the firm’s foreman, Charles E. Boyer, after a sketching trip in 1909. Years later, their gift made the papers in La Crosse, Wisconsin, when the origin of the interesting painting was remembered as a wedding gift to Boyer’s daughter, Ruth Boyer Anderson.

Hanson Duvall Puthuff (1875-1979) is remembered as an Impressionistic painter in the early California Plein-Air Movement, c. 1910-1940. Much has been written of his easel art, yet his backstory seems to be a series of “cut-and-paste” articles. Occasionally, there will be one line about his work as a sign painter or scenic art endeavors in 1906 for “Sosman Studio,”  but little else is cited. That being said, he is a difficult individual to track down, not only because of his early work as an itinerant artist, but also because of his name change and consistent misspellings over the years. Hanson took the last name of his adoptive mother sometime in the 1880s, at the very beginning of his artistic career.

Hanson B. Puthuff (1875-1972)

He was an easel artist, frescoer, sign painter and scenic artist. There is no question that he was incredibly skilled and extremely versatile. His fine art paintings are often described in detail and commended for their coloration and play of light. However, it is his personal story that intrigues me the most.  Keep in in mind that by this point I have spent years tracking down Puthuff’s career in historic records and city directories. The majority of his life until 1910 was spent with his adoptive mother as they traveled west to Denver and then Los Angeles. His care and dedication for Elizabeth C. Stanley Puthuff is a story in itself. I am captivated by the loyalty and love that caused this young artist to take care of his adoptive mother until her dying day, as well as adopting her last name.

Hanson Duval (some records note Duvall) was born on August 21, 1875, in Waverly, Missouri. This date is even suspect, as other records suggest March, with little known of his birth parents. He was purportedly the son of Alonzo Augustus Duval and Mary Anne Lee. Other names filter in and out of historic records, but his parents were cited as coming from Kentucky. When he was only two years old, Hanson’s mother passed away and he was adopted by close family friend, Elizabeth Puthuff (1845-1910). Most historical records use the phrase “passed on,” with the idea that Hanson’s father left his son and moved on with his life. This may have been the driving force over the years that caused Hanson to always care for Elizabeth, as she was the one who took him in during his greatest time of need.

Elizabeth’s care and love for Hanson was also born of loss. Since 1865, Elizabeth had lived as a Civil War widow, managing to support herself as a seamstress. She was born in Tennessee, the daughter of Jacob and Rebecca Stanley and by 1850 the family was living in Jefferson, Indiana.

Elizabeth married James T. Puthuff at the age of 22 years old. Their union is only briefly mentioned in a wedding record, a mere scribble. The timing is too quick to suggest a lengthy courtship, but it was in the midst of the Civil War and the two were married at the height of James’ service. Here is the timeline that makes me wonder what else was at play: James first enlisted in the Union army in St. Louis, Missouri, on Nov. 1, 1863 and mustered out as a Private with the 12th Cavalry that same day. He enlisted a second time on Jan. 29, 1864, and mustered out with Company K in the Missouri Veteran Volunteers on March 7, 1864. He and Elizabeth were married on March 31, 1864 and James was killed a little over two weeks later. A week after his passing, on April 23, 1865, Elizabeth filed for a Civil War Pension.

It was Sergeant Perry O. Singleton who reported that James was killed by gunshots from either rebels or a bushwhacker on, or about, April 15, 1865 near Montgomery, Alabama. Puthuff was originally buried 100 yards from Mr. Howard’s store 1 ½ miles south of Shorter’s Station near Cross Keys, Macon County, Alabama. His body was later exhumed and buried at Montgomery, Alabama cemetery and relocated again to Marietta National Cemetery. If I am interpreting records correctly, his gravestone does not match his history, and the cemetery is aware of it.

Elizabeth was a widow for twelve years before adopting Hanson. At the time, she was thirty years old and working as a seamstress. Over the years, she went by Mrs. Elizabeth C. Puthuff, Lizzie Puthuff, and Mrs. L. C. Puthuff. Regardless of directory listing, she was often noted as the widow of J. T., Jason T. and James T. Puthuff.  What is so interesting is that her Civil War Pension Application listed James S. Puthuff, but that may have been a clerical error. Or a simple misreading of a handwritten T.

Five years after adopting Hansen, the two were listed in the 1880 Federal Census. At the time, they were  living in Rio Norte, Colorado. Hanson Duval was listed as Lizzie’s adoptive son and she was working as a dressmaker. The two were still living in Rio Norte in 1888, when Lizzie posted a series of advertisements: “Mrs. L. C. Puthuff, Del Norte, Colo. Fashionable Modiste! Respectfully solicits a continuance of the patronage of old friends and a trial by new customers. Works done on short notice, Corner Columbia avenue and Sixth street.” They soon relocated to Denver,

Sometime between 1880 and 1890, Hanson changed his last name from Duval to Puthuff, with Duval becoming his middle name. I have yet to locate any legal records of has name change. By 1890, Hanson was studying with Ida De Steiguer at the Fine Arts Department of the University of Denver, ca. 1890 – 1893. In 1893, Hanson was listed in the Denver City Directory as a janitor for the Art School.

By 1894, Hanson took a position as a fresco painter in Peoria, Illinois, while his mother stayed behind for the year and continued her dressmaking. This was likely an apprenticeship in ornamental painting. In the 1894 Peoria City Directory listed Hanson’s employment address as the YMCA building, 109-111 N. Jefferson Ave.  By 1896 Hanson returned west and was again listed in the Denver City Directory, now as a fresco painter, but still living with his mother. In 1897, Hanson listed himself as an artist, but soon returned to Peoria for another year of work. Projects in the city included murals at City Hall and local churches.  While in Peoria, he was listed as a frescoer at Trapp & Hocking, located at 228-229 Adams, the corner of Fulton in the Woolner Bldg. His residence was 619 Sixth Ave. Although I have yet to locate a listing in 1899, his mother was still living in Denver.

The 1900 Federal Census provided a little more information about the two.  Listed as L. C., “Lizzie” listed her birthday as in March 1845 and that her father and mother were from Virginia and North Carolina, respectively. Hanson’s birth month was listed as August in 1875 with both of his parents originating from Kentucky.

By 1901 Hanson was working as a sign writer at the Curran Bill & Poster Distributing Co. This advertising firm was located at 1728 to 1734 Lawrence Ave. in Denver.  Hanson continued to work for the firm as a sign painter throughout 1903. He was also listed in the artists section of the Denver directory too. For context, James A. Curran owned the firm and was considered not only the father of outdoor advertising in Colorado, but also the “boss bill poster of the Rockies.” Curran’s first advertising business was established in Leadville, Colorado, in 1880. By 1881, he was working with the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad. He was also an early advertising agent for the Tabor Opera Houses in Leadville and Denver, tying directly into my research about the railroad’s gifting of picturesque advertising curtains to Colorado opera houses. By 1883, Curran relocated to Denver where he established the Curran Bill & Poster Distributing Co., a business that rapidly became the preferred painting and sign poster firm throughout the region. He employed scores of scenic artists and sign painters such as Pufhutt.  Curran was also an agent for traveling theatre shows that included the Nellie Boyd Dramatic Co., Sullivan and Company and Damrosch Concerts. Curran artists were was likely the connection between Pufhutt and Chicago (Sosman & Landis). By 1906, Curran was also the owner and president of the Curran Opera House in Boulder, Colorado.

Pufhutt’s work for Curran also became his connection to Los Angeles. In 1904, Hanson & Lizzie moved to Pasadena, California, likely at the recommendation of  A. Allison, of the Curran Bill & Poster Distributing Co. On Jan. 23, 1904, “Billboard” announced, “A. Allison, formerly of the Curran Co., Denver Colorado has been elected secretary and general manager of the California Billposting Co. of Los Angeles. Mr. Allison brings with him to the new form a fine knowledge of the business (page 15). For the next few years, Pufhutt worked for the California Billposting Co. as he made inroads into the Los Angeles fine art community.  Although he continued to be listed as an artist in the Los Angeles Directory, Pufhutt worked across the country, including in Chicago at Sosman & Landis studio, sporadically between 1906 and 1909.

In California, Hanson’s primary focus of artistic study was Eagle Rock, La Crescenta, Corona del Mar and La Canada. By 1905, Puthuff was featured in the “Los Angeles Times.” On Oct. 22, 1905, the newspaper reported:

“The true artist is dowered at birth by a fairy godmother, and her great gifts to him are sight and insight – the clear eyes that takes in the outward aspects of beauty, the swift intuition that seeks and finds its spirit and its meaning. The schools may supply him with tools, or he may fashion his own to suit his needs. It matters not, so long as he persistently holds fast to his two gifts, and so long as he does not begin to believe that the mere tools of his trade are the “whole thing.” For he was made an artist by the grace of God. Al other painters and artisans in the temple – clever, conscientious, painstaking, intelligent artisans, if you will, but still artisans, and their presence is often an intrusion which does not further the true worship of the goddess of art. They pose as high priests, when they really belong among the humblest of penitents. Hanson Putuff, the subject of this appreciation, is one of our painters who is an artist. Sight and insight, Putuff has already done much, but he will do a great deal more. Let the doubting Thomases, if there are any such, so to the exhibit of his sketches with the friends who believe in him have urged him to hold in the near future. Hanson Puthuff is of Kentucky parentage, and of French and English extraction – and these fortunate accidents of birth have given us an impressionist and a reactionist who knows moderation. He studied portraiture and figure painting with Henry Reed and Jean Mannheim, in Denver, and this laid the foundation for his accurate knowledge of construction and good drawing. But in his study of landscape he had no helpers, going straight to Nature in his search for beauty and truth, as every artist must. His home studio, which he planned himself, and which he decorated throughout, with his own hands, is a pleasant, unobtrusive, artistic, little redwood bungalow on Avenue 52, in Highland Park, Here his many sunny sketches may be seen, and here he conducts a life class two evenings a weeks. This class is attended by earnest young men, who are for the most part employed in various handicrafts during the day, and who can find no other time for learning to paint and draw, But all know this is to be their golden opportunity. And not one of them is a purposeless idler. Hanson Puthuff, it will be seen, is doing much for the cause of art in Los Angeles” (page 62).

By November 4, 1906, the “Los Angeles Times” published Puthuff’s portrait alongside an article entitled “Pictures by Three Painters” (page 82). Advertising the upcoming Blanchard Gallery exhibition, it gave a little history about Puthuff’s increasing popularity among those “who are sincerely concerned with the progress of art in Los Angeles.”  The article reported, “In the first place, it will give us an opportunity to judge, with some degree of correctness, the progress made by Hanson Puhuff in the last two years. It was then that he first became known to us, in the Ruskin exhibit, through three or four pictures of unusual strength and promise. He now has some twenty-five new canvases to show, portraits, figures, landscapes and marines – and they will convince us, I think, that he has not been standing still.”

Within the next three years, he became extremely well-known in the region. On October 1909 George Whart James wrote an article entitled “Hanson Puthuff and His Work: A Study and an Appreciation” for the “Arroyo Craftsman” (pages 31-37). That same year,  Puthuff and his adoptive mother were living at 401 W. Ave 52. Erroneously, the city directory listed him as Anton Puthuff, with Hanson still working as a scenic artist, but now employed by Charles F. Thompson Scenic Co. In addition to his easel art and scenic art, Hanson continued to care for his aging mother.

Just as Lizzie took care of Hans as a small child, Hanson continued to care for his mother until her dying day.  It was not until after his adoptive mother passed, that Hanson married and began a new life. On October 5, 1910, Puthuff married May P. Longest in Los Angeles. Their marriage announcement was published on October 4, 1910 in the “Los Angeles Herald” (page 14): “PUTHUFF-LONGEST. H. D. Puthuff, age 35 and May P. Longest, age 18; natives of Missouri and Kentucky, residents of Los Angeles.” May was certainly not 18, as she had been listed in as a single artist in the city directories for five years. She was born in 1879 and 31 yrs. old.

May was first listed in the 1903 San Jose Directory, living with her mother Mrs. Anna W. Longest, at 532 n. 14th Street. That only lasted for a year, and soon May was on her own. She continued to be listed as an artist until her marriage to Hanson and began having children.  The couple celebrated the birth twin sons (Duvall J and Lee C., b. 1912), Robert H. (b. 1914), Paul M. (b. 1916), Matilda L. (b. 1918) and Addie W. (b. 1920). As one child after another was born to the couple, May’s artistic aspirations diminished and her husband’s soared.  

In order to support his growing family, Hanson continued to work as a scenic artist and sign painter at a variety of studios. In 1912, he was listed in the city directory an artist at T. H. B. Varney, still living at 401 W Ave 52. Charles M. Elliot was also working for the firm at this time too. T. H. B. Varney previously was a founder of the bill posting firm Owens, Varney & Green (L. D. Owens and J. C. Green). This was a period of transition of Puthuff, however, as his easel art continued to gain national and international recognition. His success and continued work at advertising studios funded the purchase of a new home at 161 College View.

On January 8, 1913, the “Los Angeles Times” included an article on Hanson Puhuff and his studio (page 26):

“If you labor under the contemptuous delusion – some fairly intelligent people do – that the painter of pictures is a lazy man, prone to loaf and invite his soul, go to the airy studio of Hanson Putuff in Eagle Rock and become enlightened.

“Here you will find a score of landscape sketches and studies painted in three weeks, an average  of one a day. And they aren’t thumbnail sketches either. Hanson Puthuff doesn’t cover postage stamps. Some of the studies are hardly less than three by four, and most of the others are almost as big in size. Puthuff, whose technique is admirably easy and free, wields a big brush attached to a strong and pliable wrist, and he requires space in which to express himself.

The new studio is situated on the charming climbing avenues among the hills of Eagle Rock – beautiful hills, now covered with the rich cloth-of-gold of Southern California’s early summer. It is on College View avenue, so called because it offers a glimpse of the new buildings on Occidental College, also among green hills, Diagobally opposite Puthuff’s studio is that of landscape artist Aron Kilpatrick, landscape painter. Arion Putnam, another landscape painter, is not far away, and on the outskirts of Glendale, still very near, Eugene Frank is domiciled, Val Costello and the Wendt’s own lots in the vicinity, and will probably erect studios some time. A veritable artists’ colony, you see a wonderful nest of landscapists. Mark my words, it’s a colony that will become famous some day, for some of the colonists are already bug men and the rest all intend to grow big.

All Hanson Puthuff’s recent studies were made in his immediate neighborhood. Indeed, he hardly found it necessary to stir from the shade of his own vine and fig tree. The views from his studio windows are very wonderful, a series of pictures of already ‘composed’ oaks and valleys, hills and mountains.

“I think it was Jean Francois Millet,” said he,” who declared that the artist who couldn’t find materials at home was hardly an artist at all. By the same token,” he added with a modest smile, “I’ll have to consider myself a real artist, for I find plenty of stuff right here. But see for yourself.”

So I “saw for myself,” studying with pleasure and interest the last vigorous sketches of this gifted young painter of California landscape. The “stuff” was indeed all good, the best that have so far come from a man that never paints poorly. In truth, Puthuff have every right to consider himself a real artist.

The painter of landscape deprecates a “subject” picture. Therefore, “I don’t suppose you’ll be much interested in this,” said Puthuff, about to turn to the wall of a study of the famous Eagle Rock, that tremendous boulder thrusting its gray flank through the side of a hill, and offering to a gaping world its strange shadowing picture of a flying eagle. But I was interested, for the canvas was a picture as well of a “subject,” a picture of finely modeled hills under a gray sky, varied in color, poetic in feeling. And the great eagle hovered against the rounded wall of rock, giving the theme a certain grandeur. This picture was an “order,” given by a real estate dealer, I believe. I congratulate the lucky owner of it, for he has much more than an advertisement, he has a picture of sterling worth without the hall mark of “business.”

A strong bit of painting is “Morning,” green and yellow hills as seen from Puthuff’s backyard. Oaks are climbing up the hillsides towards a sky as full of color as the heart of an opal. Equally vigorous in handling is “Verdugo Road,” showing eucalyptus trees on either side of the sunny road just before it dips into the valley. The cloudy sky if of an exquisite blue-gray, a color invented by Puthuff for Nature to imitate – if she can.

In “Verdugo Mountains” we see the mountains on a cloudy day just after a shower, when the air is washed clean and pure as a crystal. Sunlight and shadow play over a bewildering mosaic of colors. The foreground embankment is of a tawny hue, while below lie green orchards. “Silvery Light,” as its title indicates, is a study of delicate mists as they affect hills and valleys. The light throws its glamours over pale greens and purples, and turns the Verdugo hills into fragile blues. It is an unusually charming picture, a happy blending of fact and vision.

Sunshine and Flowers” gives us yellow blooms (species unknown to painter and deponent,) set on a sunny slope among eucalyptus trees and live oaks. There are blue mists beyond them. The picture is full of living brightness. “Lupin,” painted in Verdugo Park, shows the pal purple blooms massed in the foreground, which is a level valley tanned yellow by the sun of early summer. The hills beyond are floating in silver mists.

Though Hanson Puthuff is known as a landscape painter, now and again he essays the portrait, and with marked success. A recent counterfeit presentment is that of George Alexander, first president of the Jonathan Club. The subject is seated at a table, Hands and face are cleverly modeled, yet with the utmost simplicity. The color scheme of Bronx-browns and grays is pleasing and harmonious, decidedly individual, as Puthuff’s color is apt to be. Another attractive recent portrait is that of a child. W. W. Mines’ little 2-year-old daughter, in white against a cream-colored background, a difficult subject technically, but triumphantly carried out. I have shown, I think, that at least one artist in Los Angeles, has learned the value of hard work. I could point out a score of others.”

In 1914 he was awarded a bronze medal at the Paris Salon and by 1915 received two silver medals from the Panorama-California Exposition. Puthuff’s WWI draft registration card listed his physical appearance as tall, medium build, blue eyes, gray-brown hair. That year, he was working as an artist at another advertising firm – Foster & Kleiser, located at 231 San Pedro St. Los Angeles. The registration still listed Hanson’s home address as 161 N. College View, Eagle Rock, LA. Walter Foster and George William Kleiser founded Foster & Kleiser Outdoor Advertising in 1901. Their immediate prosperity led to regional branches in the Pacific Northwest to outdoor plants in Los Angeles, San Francisco and eastward toward the Atlantic seaboard. Interestingly, his son’s draft registration for WWII would also noted Robert H.’s employer as Foster and Kleiser. By 1920, the Puthuff family included Hanson, May, their six children and May’s mother, now 70 years old. In the 1920s, Hanson’s projects included habitat displays for the Los Angeles Museum of History, Science and Art. Later commissions included model displays for the Santa Fe Railroad and panoramas for the Theodore Roosevelt Memorial  in the American Museum of Natural History in New York.

May Longest Puthuff passed away on Dec. 12, 1939 at the age of 60. Puthuff remarried and continued to live for more than three decades, passing away at Corona del Mar. On May 12, 1972, the “Los Angeles Times”  Puthuff, Hanson D., age 96. Passed away Friday, May 12, Dean of California landscape painters. Survived by wife Louise, sons Paul and Lee Puthuff, daughter Matilda Scoville, step-daughter Sara Blatterman, 8 grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren. No funeral services at his request.”

Puthuff made a name for himself in the fine art world and is associated with the Eucalyptus School of California landscape painters. He was a co-founder of the California Art Club and the Laguna Beach Art Association. Thomas G. Moses and many other Sosman & Landis artists were also members of the Laguna Beach Art Association. Puthuff’s artworks remain in many collections, including the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Laguna Art Museum, Laguna Art Museum, and Bowers Museum, as well as being catalogued in the Smithsonian American Art inventory.

His legacy also lived on in his many students. On February 11, 1943, the “Granada Pioneer” in Colorada included an article entitled “Thumbnail Sketches.”  The artist remembered taking private lessons from Hans Puthuff, “one of the foremost nature artists on the west coast” (page 3).

To be continued…

Sosman & Landis: Shaping the Landscape of American Theatre. Employee No. 25 – Charles E. Boyer

Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Charles Edward Boyer worked as a foreman at Sosman & Landis from 1889 to 1909.

He was born on November 7, 1865, in Chicago, the youngest of two sons born to James A. Boyer (1824-1866) and Julia Anne Ege (1837-1890). His father was one of several children born to John Kerst Boyer and Elizabeth Aurand. Charles older brother, John K., was named after his grandfather in 1861. James A. Boyer was the youngest of five children, with his siblings being: Valentine (1814-1890), Peter (1815-1820), Nathaiel (1817-1827), and Marie E. (1829-1894). It was Marie’s second husband that greatly affected Charles’ youth and the families circumstances after the death of his father in 1866.

James A. Boyer worked as a ship caulker and assed away on October 9, 1866, leaving a young widow with two infant children.  By the summer of the following year, the three were in dire financial straits. On August 9, 1867,  the “Chicago Evening Post” posted the following notice: “Estate of James A. Boyer, deceased. Public notice is hereby given to all persons having claims and demands against the estate of James A. Boyer, deceased, to present the same for adjunctions and settlement, at the regular term of the Country court of Cook county, to be holden at the courthouse in this city of Chicago, on the first Monday of September A.D. 1867, being the second day thereof.” His unexpected passing meant that Julia was forced to sell their home, and by the fall, the “Chicago Evening Post” published her intent to sell:

“Notice is hereby given to all whom it may concern that as guardian of John K. Boyer and Charles E. Boyer, infants, I shall apply to the Superior Court of Chicago at its April term, A.D. 1867, for an order to sell the west forty (40) feet of lot number ten (10), of block number forty-five (45), in the original town of Chicago, in Cook County, Illinois. Signed, Julia A. E. Boyer, Guardian, and B. E. Ellis, Solicitor” (March 16, 1867, page 3).

By April 11, 1867, Julia posted another notice in the “Chicago Times” for two weeks:

“Julia A. E. Boyer, guardian of John K. and Charles E. Boyer. Petition to sell the west forty feet of lot ten, block fifty-five. Original Town, to enable her to pay liabilities of the estate” (page 3). On October 25, 1867 (page 3), the “Chicago Evening Post” announced the Guardian’s Sale of Real Estate on Saturday Nov. 9, 167 to the highest bidder, with terms one-third cash and the two remaining payments of one and two years, secured by notes bearing eight percent interest and trust deed upon the property sold.” Despite her desperate attempts stay financially afloat, she became the financial target of Marie Boyer’s second husband Laurin P. Hilliard, an up-and-coming Chicago businessman.

For two weeks in 1869 there were two notices published in the papers:

The first was “Laurin P. Hilliard v. Wm. Boyer, et. Al Bill to compel specific performance of an alleged contract by Charles E. Boyer, since deceased, for the sale of Lot 2, subdivision of Blocks 5 and 6, Canal Trustees’ Subdivision of blocks in south fractional half of Section 29, 39, N. 14 east.”

The second was:

“Laurin P. Hilliard v. Elizabeth Boyer et als. Bill for deed of an undivided half interest in 5,760 acres of land in Iowa, the legal title to which at the date of his decease was in Charles E. Boyer, but in which complainant claims the interest stated, as a partner in the purchase.”

The story gets a little complicated and could be a drama in itself. Hilliard was already well-off when he decided to target his wife’s family. Maria’s first husband was Medor B. Beaubien, a Pottawatomie Indian who purportedly abandoned her when his tribe relocated to Kansas. It was Beaubien’s property that came into question and Hilliard went after it in a long and drawn-out litigation with forgery allegations tossed in. The case was summarized in the “Chicago Evening Post” on August 3, 1872 (page 20). Hilliard had a profound influence on the lives of not only Julia, but also her young sons.

So, who was this man who gained wealth by suing those who could not defend themselves? Laurin Palmer Hilliard (b. 1814) was one of the earliest settlers, arriving in Chicago by 1836. He started out as a general merchant, but then became a lumber dealer and ship builder between 1841 and 1861. He also worked as a country clerk before becoming City Commissioner. By 1872, he was the president of the Protection Life Insurance Co and featured in the 1877 publication, “Chicago Business Men and Vistors.” At the end of Hilliard’s brief bio, it stated, “his substantial character and unsullied name is a tower of strength to the company.”  By the 1890’s Hilliard was a millionaire, but spent quite a bit of time in court for the questionable business tactics of his life insurance company.

He lived until 1895 and when he was struck and instantly killed by a carriage. Karma seems to have arrived a little late in the game.

Regardless, in 1869, Hilliard was fifty-five years old, wealthy and cashing in on widow who was just trying to survive with two small children. This court case would place undue hardship on Charles, his brother and mother. Although I have yet to confirm what the outcome of the suit, my guess is that Hilliard won.  In 1870, Julia, her two young sons, and 74 yrs. old mother, Hester McLaughlin, were boarding at the home of Robert A. and Rebecca Dimmick.  She need help, and quick.

On November 12, 1870, Julia remarried a younger man name John F. Allen (b. 1841). The two celebrated the birth of two daughters, Laura and Ella in 1873 and 1877. Laura was born in Chicago, and Ella was born in Wisconsin. By 1880, they moved to Kansas where Charles’ step father was the Sherrif of Trego County, Kansas.  Her sons from her first marriage, Charles and John, grow up quick, never attend school and are employed at young age. John was not included in the 1880 census, as he passed away at the age of nineteen on March 5, 1880; cause unknown.

A few years later Charles returned to Wisconsin and was working in La Crosse as a boiler maker for M. Funk. He returned to Chicago by 1889 when he began working for Sosman & Landis as a foreman. The 1890 Chicago Directory lists Boyer as a foreman, working at 236 Clinton, the same address as Sosman & Landis’ main studio that year.   

On August 29, 1894, Charles married Maretta “Retta” Dunaway (b. 1874). Retta, and her twin sister Maria, were born in Wisconsin, and that is likely when Charles met Maretta. It appears that Retta was a twin, with her parents being  Colwell Dunaway and Louisa Almeda Johnston.  Charles and Retta celebrated the birth of two children, Clermont Aurand Boyer (1895-1961) and Ruth Claudine Boyer (1900-1972). Aurand, names after his grandmother’s family. The Boyers continued to live in Chicago for the next few decades, with Charles working as a foreman in the studio. In 1909, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “After twenty years of good service, Charles Boyer, our foreman, quit us. We all regretted his going.” Boyer continued with in this same profession for the short term, but I have yet to determine where he worked after Sosman & Landis. In 1910, Charles E. Boyer was still listed as a foreman in the theatrical scenery industry.

The 1920 Federal Census listed Boyer as a manager at a Brass company. He would continue in this capacity until his passing until 1935, working in the employment department of the firm. Boyer passed away on June 24, 1935. On June 26, 1935, the “Chicago Tribune” reported, “Burial Rites for Charles E. Boyer, 70. Funeral services for Charles E. Boyer will be held at 2 o’clock tomorrow afternoon in Oakridge cemetery. He died Monday in his home at 3512 Le Moyne street at the age of 70. He is survived by his widow Retta; a son, Clermont; a daughter, Mrs. Ruth Boyer Anderson, and three grandchildren; brother of Mrs. Ella Hamilton and Mrs. L. R. Zeimer of Lakewood, O. Services at Oak Ridge Abbey” (page 23).

Boyer’s work at Sosman & Landis was not remembered until 1956 when a newspaper article described the wedding gift that he gave his daughter in 1921. His daughter Ruth married Rev. Gustave Edwin Anderson in La Crosse, Wisconsin that year.

On September 23, 1956, the “La Crosse Sunday Tribune” published the following article on page 13:

“Rev. And Mrs. Anderson Own Unusual Painting

Young Artists Unaware They Painted Twins

Some paintings are more than works of art; they are stories told in oils. The story of such an oil painting dates back to approximately to the summer of 1913 when two young artists, H. Puthuff and Victor Higgins began their career at Sosman-Landis Scenic Studio in Chicago.

Vacation had come and the two boys went out to California to visit one of their mothers. On leaving Chicago they promised the foreman, Charles E. Boyer, that each one of them would bring back and oil painting for him. Their vacation was a series of busy, happy days of painting. Soon the last days came and will them the question of what painting they were going to give the boss.

The mother suggested the twin pictures, but said, “We have no twin pictures. We have always worked separately and never conferred about our work.”

“Oh yes you have, boys. I’ll pick them out first. She did. Unknowingly each of the boys had painted different halves of the same foothill with canyon and Point Loma near San Diego, in the background. When placed together the sky matched perfectly and so did the contours of the hills, canyon and wheat field, although the wind had blown the grain in different circles because the boys had painted different days. And a tree in the foreground, with its slight irregularities, show signs of two different artists. Together the oils make a perfect whole.

Both men regretted giving their halves, but finally conceded that giving it to the boss was the best solution.”

Painting that Charles E. Boyer gifted to his daughter in 1921.

To be continued…

Sosman & Landis: Shaping the Landscape of American Theatre. Employee No. 24 – Victor Higgins

Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Victor Higgins worked as a scenic artist at Sosman and Landis during the first two decades of the twentieth century.

William Victor Higgins (1884-1949)

William “Victor” Higgins was born on June 26, 1884, in Shelbyville, Indiana. He was the son of John Tilson Higgins (1955-1935) and Rose E. Doolan Higgins (1855-1931). Victor was one of eight children born to the couple and raised in Shelby County. His siblings were Richard C. (b. 1880), Francis Wheeler Higgins (b. 1882), Ambrose (b. 1886), Marie Cecilia Higgins Fischer (b. 1888), Wilford D. (b. 1890), Robert M. (1891), Tresia P (1898) and John Tilson Jr. (b. 1898).  Amazingly, two of his sisters lived to be 101 years old, with Francis passing in 1983 and Marie passing in 1989.

On February 14, 1914, Higgins was featured in “The Inland Printer,” a trade journal in the printing and allied industries. The article was republished in hometown newspaper with pride, especially as it featured his early sign painting in the area.  The article’s author commented, “In interviewing Mr. Higgins I have set down what he said to me as he said it, interpolating no questions or suggestions, as I feel sure the reader can better obtain an idea of what Mr. Higgins’ personality in this way.”  Here was what Higgins had to say about his early career in Indiana and later training in Chicago and Europe:

“My first work in Chicago was in a sign shop on Kinzie Street. The pay was just two dollars less than the sum required for board. I quit and looked for something else. The next job was painting signs on walls. On the first undertaking, which happened to be a sign on a wall of an engraving house (Rodgers, I think), the rope broke, and I was shunted off to one of those racks they build out of windows for gasoline and benzine cans. In falling I jarred one off and it fell four floors, struck the dock and then went into the river.

“Of course, I was thankful, and decided to quit the sign business, I climbed thru the window, and on my way out passed through an art department and got an insight into the work that would have taken much longer had I tried the regular way. I asked them for a position, and they took my name and address.

“Not long after, I took up the painting of theatrical scenery and specialized somewhat in staging the opera.

“Three years ago, I went to Europe for a period of study in the studios in London, Paris and Munich. In England I became a member of the St. Ives Club, and in Munich a charter member of the ‘Club of American Artists in Munich.’

“In Paris I studied in the studio of Revue Menard and came in contact with other mural painters.

“Since returning to America I have been occupied with mural work in Chicago and the Middle West. The largest commission was the Englewood Theater, which included the working out is the entire color scheme from floor to draperies. The mural panels in this theater covered a surface of sixteen hundred square feet.

“I have exhibited pictures in England and France, also with the exhibition of American artist in Chicago and with the Chicago Society of Artists. My first exhibition upon returning to America was at the Palette & Chisel Club, I am a member of this club and have held the office of vice-president.

To date, the earliest mention that I have located for Higgins as a sign painter is from 1899.  On Nov. 27, 1899, Higgins placed an advertisement in the “Shelbyville Daily Democrat”(page 4) – “Mr. Victor Higgins is engaged in placing in some very handsome signs in this city, both in gilt and aluminum. Give him a call. Address, Meltzer, Indiana.” Within a year, Higgins moved to Chicago and initially continued his sign painting trade there. It is really Shelby County newspaper notices that I can track his scenic art career.

In 1900, the Federal Census report listed Higgins as an artist and living in Liberty, Iowa. Sometime between the summer of 1900 and the fall of 1901, Higgins moved to Chicago and continued as a sign painter. On Sept. 10, 1901, the “Shelbyville Daily Democrat” reported, “Victor Higgins, who has been home visiting his parents for about four weeks, returned to Chicago this morning to resume his position, that of an expert sign painter. ‘Vic’ is getting to the front rapidly. His natural talents in his chosen profession insure him in a lucrative profession.” This was obviously before his accident and beginning as a scenic artist.

Sometime between 1901 and 1905, Higgins was hired as a scenic artist at Sosman & Landis. He was there long enough to assist journeyman artist Fred Scott and gained his own palette.

In 1905, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “Victor Higgins, one of our promising young men, quit to take up picture painting and started with a strong determination to win, and I think he will.” Higgins continued to work in Chicago, but also began painting in New York. On April 19, 1906, the “Shelbyville Daily Democrat” still noted “Victor Higgins of Chicago”(page 2). On October 25, 1906 (page 3) the “Shelbyville Daily Democrat” reported, “Victor Higgins, an old Shelby county boy has been working in New York City for several weeks and is again in Chicago, having accepted a good position there as a scenic painter.” He likely realized that continuing to work in a scenic studio would provide the necessary income for sketching trips and continued artistic studies.  

In Chicago, Higgins studied at the Art Institute alongside E. Martin Hennings and Walter Ufer. At Sosman & Landis, Higgins worked alongside Walter C. Hartson, Fred Scott, Edgar Payne, William Nutzhorn, David A. Strong, and Ansel Cook, to name a few.  In New York, his fellow scenic artists were William Smart, Art Rider, and Al Dutheridge. It was in New York, however, that Higgins’ career as an easel artist began to take off.

In 1908, Higgins met Robert Henri (1865-1929), a leading figure of the Ashcan School of art. Keep in mind that Henri’s students included Edward Hopper, Rockwell Kent, George Bellow, Norman Raeben, Louis D. Fancher and Stuart Davis. Art history books record that Henri spurned the Academy and Impressionist school of painting, encouraging a revived realism and rallying “for paint to be as real as mud, as the clods of horse shit and snow that froze on Broadway in the winter.” Higgins’ artistic training in Chicago and New York led to additional studies abroad.  It was Carter H. Harrison, former Chicago Mayor and avid art collector, who financed Higgin’s artistic study in Europe. At the time, Chicago offered many opportunities for artists and during Mayor Harrison’s administration, the Chicago City Council created the Commission for the Encouragement of Local Art (1914-1945).  This commission used taxpayer money to purchase paintings and sculpture created by Chicago artists. It is no wonder that Chicago attracted artists from around the world.

Before his departure to Europe, Higgins mailed a picture postcard to Moses at Sosman & Landis. Dated May 5, 1908, the photograph showed Higgins, sketching outside with an easel and umbrella. His face was scratched out and replaced with a cartoon expression. The front of the postcard read, “Dear Mr. Moses, Notice that pained expression on my face. V. Higgins.” The two continued to correspond during Higgins’ European studies. Higgins mailed another postcard to Moses from London in 1909. It was addressed to “Mr. Thos. G. Moses, 417 So Clinton St, Chicago, Ill, USA,” the main Sosman & Landis studio. Higgins wrote, “Your letter received. With the gift settled, I will write you all of it. Lots of fun in sights. Regards to the boys,” signed V. Higgins.” The “boys” were the scenic artists at Sosman & Landis; Moses frequently referred to his painting crew as “the boys.”

Higgins studied at the Académie de la Grande Chaumière in Paris, where he was a pupil of Rene Menard and Lucien Simon. In Munich, he was a pupil of Hans von Hyeck. Throughout his travels, Higgins sent Moses postcards to share his artistic journey with the older artist. In 1909 Higgins even mailed Moses a postcard from 16 Promenadenplatz, Munich. These postcards are now part of the Thomas G. Moses file in the John Rothgeb Papers at the Harry Ransom Research Center, University of Texas in Austin.

Upon Higgins’ return to the United States, he began working at Sosman & Landis again. In 1909, Moses wrote, “Victor Higgins also returned to work at Sosman & Landis, completing the interior of the American Music Hall.” This was a period of time at Sosman & Landis when the firm was swamped with work that included Scottish Rites theater work in Atlanta, Georgia and Kansas City, Kansas, as well as a massive Coliseum shows called “The Fall of Messiah” for the White City. Although he continued working as a scene painter for the theatre, Higgin’s repeatedly took short leaves from Sosman & Landis to go on sketching trips. On one trip to California, Higgins was accompanied by fellow Sosman & Landis artist Hans Duval Puthuff. Prior to their departure, they promised the studio foreman at Sosman & Landis, Charles E. Boyer (1856-1935), to bring back one of their paintings. The story of their painting to Boyer made newspapers years later in a newspaper article published in the “La Crosse Sunday Tribune” (La Crosse, Wisconsin, September 23, 1956, page 13).

Here is the article entitled: “Rev. And Mrs. Anderson Own Unusual Painting. Young Artists Unaware They Painted Twins:”

“Some paintings are more than works of art; they are stories told in oils. The story of such an oil painting dates back to approximately to the summer of 1913 when two young artists, H. Puthuff and Victor Higgins began their career at Sosman-Landis Scenic Studio in Chicago.

“Vacation had come, and the two boys went out to California to visit one of their mothers. On leaving Chicago they promised the foreman, Charles E. Boyer, that each one of them would bring back an oil painting for him. Their vacation was a series of busy, happy days of painting. Soon the last days came and will them the question of what painting they were going to give the boss. The mother suggested the twin pictures, but said, “We have no twin pictures. We have always worked separately and never conferred about our work.” “Oh yes you have, boys. I’ll pick them out first.” She did. Unknowingly each of the boys had painted different halves of the same foothill with canyon and Point Loma near San Diego, in the background. When placed together the sky matched perfectly and so did the contours of the hills, canyon and wheat field, although the wind had blown the grain in different circles because the boys had painted different days. And a tree in the foreground, with its slight irregularities, show signs of two different artists. Together the oils make a perfect whole. Both men regretted giving their halves, but finally conceded that giving it to the boss was the best solution.”

Although the newspaper article suggests that the painting dates from 1913, it is possibly from 1909, as that was the year Boyer quit working at Sosman & Landis. In 1909, Moses wrote “After twenty years of good service, Charles Boyer, our foreman, quit us. We all regretted his going.”

In Chicago, Higgin’s easel art continued to gain popularity. His success was heralded by his folks and shared with local newspapers, but he was still considered a scenic artist. In 1910, Higgins was listed as a scenic artist when he accompanied six other members from the Institute on a sketching trip to Oldenburg, Indiana. The “Brookville Democrat” published an article in 1910 about Victor Higgins and a group of artists who traveled from Chicago to Oldenburg, Indiana, for a sketching trip. The article was “Artists From Chicago Spend Two Weeks at Oldenburg Making Sketches” (Brookville, Indiana, 6 Oct. 1910, page 1). Seven Palette and Chisel Club members visited east-central Indiana during 1910. They stayed in the primarily German village of Oldenburg, one of the oldest communities in the state. The artists secured lodging at the Gibson Hotel, run by Joseph Merchen. At the end of their trip, the hotel displayed 130 landscapes that were painted during their stay. One of these paintings portrayed the group playing a game of pool. Each artist was painted with his palette overhead, depicting how he arranged his colors, left as a gift to the Oldenburg community. The Oldenburg painting collection was exhibited at the Palette & Chisel Club upon their return.

The newspaper article about the trip reported:

“Seven artists of the Palette and Chisel Club spent two weeks of hard work at Oldenburg and vicinity. The Palette and Chisel Club was founded fifteen years ago when the advanced students at the Art Institute of Chicago felt the need of a club in which each could ‘ride his own hobby, apart from school and yet be organized. In their meeting they relate their experiences gained from private work and observation, and thus mutually help each other. Although the organization began with but a few members, it has steadily increased and now boasts of a hundred members. It includes members from some of the best art schools of this country as well as abroad. Those members that visited our county follow different lines of work. Mr. H. L. Engle is an expert in the restoration of old masterpieces. Mr. O. E. Hake is one of the faculty of the Academy of Fine Arts in Chicago. He is a designer and illuminator for the leading editors and authors. Mr. J. E. Phillips is a noted commercial artist. Mr. R. I. Ingerle is a noted member and officer of the Chicago Society of Artists and a member of the Western Society. Mr. August Petrytl is a designer and illustrator. Mr. L. O. Griffith follows the same line of work. Mr. Victor Higgins is proficient in painting theatrical stage scenes. The Palette and Chisel Club send some of its members out every year to make their own choice. Some of the men who were here have traveled abroad and through the west and southwest of our country. This year through the influence of Mr. Higgins, we were honored with their visit. During their stay here, they have made one-hundred-thirty landscape sketches. Most of their work was exhibited at the Gibson House, where they had their headquarters, on Friday evening. The artists expressed surprise when told that there had been no other artists here before now to make paintings of the beautiful scenery that nature has so liberally scattered in these parts. They say that there is material enough here for years of work, and they will try to come back again in the near future.”

The Oldenburg group painting is now part of the M. Christine Schwartz Collection (https://schwartzcollection.com/), a privately owned collection consisting of paintings by mid-nineteenth- to the mid-twentieth-century Chicago artists.

On March 14, 1911, the “Shelbyville Daily Democrat” reported, ”Victor Higgins, the son of Mr. and Mrs. J. Tilson Higgins, of near Meltzerville, is rapidly winning recognition from the leading art critics in his home city. Several of his drawings are on exhibition at the art exhibit in the Windy City and one of the Chicago papers speaks very highly of his work” (page 1). By 1911, Higgins took another year to study overseas. On August 19, 1911 (page 4), the “Shelbyville Daily Democrat” reported, “Victor Higgins sailed from Montreal, Canada, on August 12, for a year’s travel and study abroad…He has traveled extensively in the United States and during the winter spent in California produced a mountain scene which won him a place among artists in the Chicago art exhibit of 1911. Mr. Higgins has always been reticent in regard to exhibitions of his work, and the only piece here, ‘The Oldenburg Chapel at Sunset,” is owned by his sister Miss Marie Higgins. The best wishes of a host of friends accompany Mr. Higgins in his study and travel.” This was one of those trips that can change an artist’s career in an instant, opening doors that were previously ajar. By March 18, 1915, the “Shelbyville Democrat” reported, that Higgins “won first prize this week with his painting “Moorland Gorse and Bracken” at the Art Institute in Chicago, and the picture has been purchased for the Municipal Art Gallery in Chicago. Mr. Higgins has been in Chicago for many years and rapidly forging to the front as an artist” (page 6). Despite his rise in the fine art work, Higgins continued to work at Sosman & Landis. In 1916, he was pictured in front of a drop curtain at the firm’s main studio in Frank H. Atkinson’s “Scene Painting and Bulletin Art.”

Victor Higgins at Sosman & Landis Scene Painting Studio.

            Other artistic awards granted to Higgins were from the Municipal Art League (1915), the Logan Medal of the Art Institute of Chicago (1917), and the first Altman prize for the National Academy of Design (1918). He is represented in permanent collections of the Art Institute in Chicago, the Corcoran Gallery in Washington, D.C., the Los Angeles Museum, as well as many other public and private collections. In addition to living and working in Chicago, Higgins began to spend more time sketching in the Southwest, especially in Taos as was associated with the Taos Society of Artists. In addition to private commissions, Higgins designed and painted ten murals for the Courthouse in Taos, and even ran for Mayor of Taos. It was also  in Taos that Higgins also met his first wife, Sara Parsons. Their marriage made headlines in his hometown newspapers.

On May 3, 1919, the “Shelbyville Republican” reported, “Mrs. Higgins was formerly Miss Sarah Tudor Parsons, daughter of Sheldon Parsons, claimed New York’s famous portrait painter now of New Mexico, where Mr. Higgins met his bride. She is also a granddaughter of Albert Harris, New York financier and relative of Admiral H. P. B. Harris of Washington, D.C. They will make their home in New York and New Mexico, spending 3 months of the year in New Mexico where Mr. Higgins has been doing wonderful work” (page 1). Less than a week later, the newspaper announced a visit form the newly married couple. On May 8, 1919, the “Shelbyville Democrat” announced, “Famous Artist Returns from New York with Bride. Victor Higgins and Miss Sara Parsons”, who were married in New York on April 22, area visiting his parents, Mr. and Mrs. John Tilson Higgins.” (page 11). The article continued, “Mr. Higgins has an art studio at Taos, and it was there that he met Miss Parsons about five years ago. Their friendship developed into an engagement and culminated in their recent marriage in New York…. Mr. Higgins attended the Shelbyville high school and showed such natural ability as an artist that he was sent to Chicago to study there as well as New Mexico, where he first went with a colony of artists to study during the summer months, about five years ago, when his romance with Miss Parsons began.” The couple celebrated the birth of their only daughter Joan in 1922. Their marriage did not last the test of time and divorced in 1924. Higgins later remarried at the age of fifty-three years old.

In 1937, Higgins married for a second time. On July 28, 1937, the “Santa Fe New Mexican” reported that the couple was married at Our Lady of Guadalupe in Taos and “a few intimate friends of the couple were present at the ceremony.” The article noted, “The wedding in Taos unites one of New Mexico’s most distinguished artists and a woman who is known throughout the Southwest as a patron of the arts. Mr. Higgins who has made his home in Taos for 25 years, is a member of the National Academy an on board of the Harwood Foundation. He is represented in the permanent collection of the Chicago Art Institute, Corcoran Gallery of Washington D.C., Pennsylvania Academy of the Arts and various ither museums. He has been a consistent winner since 1914. Mrs. Higgins, a summer resident of Santa Fe for the past seven years has one of the most modern art collections in the nation, including works of El Greco, Cezanne, Gaugin, Van Gogh, Picasso, Renoir, Degas and the later modernist painters. She plans to bring the collection to New Mexico from her San Antonio estate, Sunset Hills. Mr. and Mrs. Higgins will be at home until October at St. Teresa, one of the guest houses on Mabel Dodge Lujan’s famous Toas Estate adjoining the Indian Pueblo. They will spend part of the winter in San Antonio. They will make their home in Taos, Santa Fe and New York.” Unfortunately, their marriage did not last and the two separated in 1940.

Higgins passed away on August 23, 1949, and is buried at the Sierra Vista Cemetery in Taos, New Mexico. Much has been written about Higgin’s fine art, his influences, approach to painting and artistic awards, with often little or no mention of his scenic art. I often get frustrated as many artistic trades are ignored, and yet color theory and paint application techniques were not solely garnered in art institutes or academies. I often wonder if art historians simply don’t understand the training or skills garnered by artists in scenic studios when they were painting compositions for the stage.

To be continued…

Sosman & Landis: Shaping the Landscape of American Theatre. Employee No. 23 – Walter C. Hartson

Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Walter C. Hartson began his artistic career as a scenic artist. Over the course of two decades Hartson worked for scenic studios run by both Thomas G. Moses and Sosman & Landis in New York and Chicago. Even after he made a name for himself in the fine art world, Hartson continued to paint stage settings. By the end of his career, Hartson was associated with the Chicago Society of Artists, the Palette & Chisel Club, the Salmagundi Club, the Rochester Art Club, the Duchess County Art Association, New York’s Kit Kat Club, the New York Water Color Club, Allied Artists of America, the American Watercolor Society, the National Arts Club and the Grand Central Art galleries. Hartson was a full member of the National Academy of Design, and yet, continued to work as a scenic artist until his mid-40s. As a scenic artist Hartson was able to explore color and painting techniques on a large scale.

Walter Carroll Hartson was born in Wyoming, Iowa, on Oct. 27, 1866. He was the son of Lafayette F. Hartson (1825-1892) and Loirett S. Hartson (1843-1920). The second child of five, his siblings were Emma (b. 1853), Dewit W. (b. 1860), Flora M. (b. 1875) and Ansel (b. 1877). The year before Walter was born, the “Iowa State Gazetteer” listed his father as gunsmith. By 1870, Lafayette Hartson was listed as an insurance agent, a career that he would continue for more than a decade.

In 1880, Walter Hartson married Carlotta A. Ogden. Ogden was also born in Wyoming on September 9, 1866, the daughter of Edward & Mary Smith Ogden. They both attended elementary school until the fifth grade and married when they were twenty-four years old. The two initially lived in Chicago where Hartson continued his studies at the Art Institute. He exhibited his artworks alongside many contemporaries who also worked as scenic artists, including future Sosman & Landis staff members Hardesty Maratta, Fred McGreer, Edward Morange, Frank C. Peyraud, and Harry A. Vincent. In 1889, he was working at 263 State Street; this was the same address were McGreer and Vincent also worked that year. Merchants located at 263 State ranged from a photography studio to Martin Emerich Outfitting Co. If I had to hazard a guess, they were likely painting photographic backings.

Hartson, McGreer and Vincent became part of the Sosman & Landis West Side Force in the early 1890s, working directly with Thomas G. Moses at the annex studio. Throughout the 1880s, Hartson continued to make a name for himself as an easel artist too, and by the 1890s was exhibiting in one show after another across the country. Hartson became well known for his landscape painting and atmospheric effects. In Chicago and in New York, he was part of scenic art community that studied, worked and socialized together, planning sketching trips when they weren’t painting scenery for the stage.

Along with many scenic art colleagues in 1893, Hartson donated artwork to a charity sale for the destitute (Chicago Tribune, 31 Dec. 1893, page 18). It was during this decade, that Hartson was first recognized on a National level. In 1895, Hartson won the bronze medal for his artwork at the Atlanta Exposition. This award helped support his studies abroad. On Jan. 28, 1897, the “New York Times” announced, “Mr. Walter C. Hartson, who has spent the last two or three years in Holland, has placed on exhibition at the Klackner Galleries, 7 West Twenty-eighth Street, fifty-six oil and water-color paintings of scenes in the Netherlands, which show that he has spent his time in the lowlands to good advantage, It is unnecessary to describe Mrs. Hartson’s work, except as a whole, as the subjects of most of the paintings, as well as their execution, is almost similar in every instance. The work in general is marked by abundant sentiment, good tone and color, and sympathy with the misty moisture-laden atmosphere of the lowlands, and by a keen appreciation of the artistic possibilities of canal and meadow, of windmills and village houses and streets. Mr. Hartson has made a close study of the masters of the modern Dutch school, and to those who love the scenery and atmosphere of Holland , a visit to this collection will be found both interesting and delightful” (page 5).

By 1898 Hartson received an award for his “Fields of September” at the seventy-third annual exhibition of the National Academy of Design (Chicago Tribune, 26 March, 1898, page 1); the Third Hallgarten Prize. By 1900, Hartson exhibited in a watercolor exhibition at the Chicago Art Institute. The Chicago “Inter Ocean” commented on two of Hartson’s paintings in 1898:

“Of course, the best may not have been in sight, but some signed by Walter C. Hartson, arrested me. It is in tone and treatment much like a McIlhenny that stood not far away. Both these are in treatment between Corot and George Inness, Sr., although not so rich in color as the later. They lay in color, and then wash it down until everything is blurred, enveloped, atmospheric and gray. Still there is sufficient firmness and purpose, good modeling and no muddiness. Only an experienced painter can do this difficult thing.”

On Jun 26, 1898, the “Chicago Tribune,” mentioned his work, “Two cleverly painted water-colors of Dutch scenes by Walter C. Hartson, a former Chicago artist are shown at Thayer & Chandler’s. Both are light and lively in color and effect, and consequently more interesting than much of his more serious work, in which he inclined to blackness and heaviness” (June 26, 1898, page 33). It was is his ability to capture light and atmospheric effects that translated so well not only in Hartson’s easel art, but also in his scenic art for the stage.

Regardless of his fine art recognition, Hartson continued to work as a scenic artist. In 1902, Moses wrote, “We secured the paint room at the 14th Street Theatre, which gave us six frames.  Walter C. Hartson and Arthur Barr joined our forces and our work kept on increasing.  We now had an office in the Broadway Theatre Building, a bookkeeper and an office boy, with a very swell uniform.  We were getting very classy. We were also starting a big payroll.” Hartson was working for Moses & Hamilton that year, not Sosman & Landis. In 1902, Hartson also won the Gold Medal of the American Art Society and by 1904 won the First Landscape Prize in the Osborne competition.

Hartson continued returned to Europe in 1907. His passport application listed his physical appearance at 41 yrs. old: 5’-10”, with high forehead, blue eyes, small nose, wide mouth, round chin, brown hair, fair complexion and oval face. On July 31, 1907, Hartson received a U. S. Consular Certificate from Henry Morgan, Consul, of the United States of America in Amsterdam, certifying that he was registered as an American Citizen in the consulate. The purpose of Hartson’s trip was listed as painting. The Hartson’s returned from oversees on June 24, 1908, sailing from Liverpool. Sketches from this trip resulted in a series of exhibits. Even in 1916 Hartson exhibited 26 water colors from sketches that he made on this Holland trip, the subjects being mostly marine and landscapes. On May 1, 1916, Brooklyn’s “Standard Union” advertised “An Exhibition of Water Colors by Walter C. Hartson.” Of Hartson’s credentials, the advertisement stated, “Mr. Hartson in 1895, at the Atlanta Exposition, received a bronze medal and honorable mention. The National Academy of Design, 1898, presented him with a Third Hallgarten Prize. He won the gold medal from the American Art Society in 1902, and in 1904, in the Osborne Competition, he won the first landscape prize.”

After his return to the United States in 1908, Hartson again worked as a scenic artist at Sosman & Landis in Chicago. In 1909, Thomas G. Moses wrote “Walter Hartson joined our force at 20th Street in August and seemed to be satisfied with conditions.” He also exhibited in the Windy City that year. On March 29, 1909, the “Chicago Tribune” reported that Walter C. Hartson, of New York, N.Y., and Jane Mahon Stanley of Detroit, Michigan, exhibited artworks at Marshall Field & Company picture galleries. It appears that returning to work as a scenic artist was the quickest way to make money after depleting one’s expenses after artistic studies in Europe, hence the return to Sosman & Landis in Chicago that year. From March 1910 until March 1911, Hartson and his wife again traveled overseas, visiting England, Holland and Belgium. At the time, the Hartson’s permanent address was at 53 West 126 St. in New York.

It is at this time that Hartson began listing himself in census reports and directories as a studio artist. The shift may have been prompted by newfound friends Arthur J. Powell, G. Glenn Newell and Harry Franklin Waltman. Newell, Waltman and Hartson eventually left the city to seek solace in the Dover Plains, each establishing a studio in the picturesque region. Hartman relocated around 1917 and worked from his studio in Wassaic, New York, following Newell with Waltman who slightly preceded him. Later, Powell joined the trio. It was the rolling hills of the Harlem Valley that kept the four men occupied (Poughkeepsie Journal, 21 June 1953, page 6A). Dozens of newspaper reports noted that the four artists painted the area with great affection.

Walter Hartson, seated left in article.

All four men were born in small rural towns but sought their art careers in nearby metropolitan areas. Hartson, Waltman, and Newell studied extensively in Europe and each independently found their way to the New York art scene. All four artists became members of the Duchess County Art Association. On January 4, 1946, the “Poughkeepsie Journal” announced that the works of Hartson, Newell, Powell and Waltman were being honored by the Duchess County Art Association, with an exhibit of their work in the Campbell Hotel Gallery. Over the decades, their work was continually rediscovered. On February 25, 1977, the “Poughkeepsie Journal” announced another exhibit of the four artists’ works at the Thomas Barrett House in an article entitled, “Once Important, They’re Forgotten” (page 3).  The author reported, “Their paintings still hang in the libraries, in school, the bank. You get a very definite sense of place with these paintings. It is definitely the Harlem Valley.” Powell also worked as a scenic artist, and in 1927 painted a decorative panel for the first scenic artists ball held in Chicago.

The 1920s were a defining period for Hartson. He and his wife again planned and international tour with stops in China, Japan, India, Italy, and Greece. They traveled for five months, returning from Cherbourg on May 19, 1924.

The last two decades of Hartson’s life were spent painting in Amenia, Duchess County, New York. The same month that he was honored by the Duchess Country Art Association, his wife of sixty-six years passed away. Carlotta Hartson died on Jan. 26, 1946.  The two were separated for less than seven months, as Walter followed her in death on July 19, 1946. Hartson’s obituary was published in the “Harlem Valley Times” on July 25, 1946:

Walter Carroll Hartson, 80, Wassaic, well known landscape artist, died Friday in Canaan, Conn. He was born in Wyoming, Iowa, son of Lafayette and Loretta Johnson Hartson. On Dec 20, 1888, he married Carlotta Ogden of Wyoming, who died Jan. 27 of this year. Mr. Hartson studied at the Chicago Art Institute, and after some years in that city, moved to New York City, where he combined work in his own studio with the painting of stage scenery. In the early years of the century, he lived in Holland, where he did considerable work in water colors. During that period, he won the Hallgarten prize of the National Academy of Design, the landscape design for a Dutch windmill in the Osborne competition and a bronze medal for honorary mention at the Atlanta exposition. About 20 years ago, he purchased a home in Wassaic and established his studio there, where he continued to record in oil, the beautiful landscape of Duchess county.

By August of 1946, everything that the Hartson’s had once held dear was liquidated at an auction.  On August 4, 1946, the “Hartford Courant” advertised “Important Estate Auction of Antiques, Furniture, Bric-a-Brac & Paintings for the estate of the late Walter C. Hartson of Wassaic, New York “(page 38). It is hard not to read through the list of their belongings listed for sale, and not feel profound loss. It is always hard to witness and entire estate liquidated, as it often defined a person, providing great insight into their travels and life. The last paragraph of the 1946 advertisement noted, “The SALE includes a large selection of original works of the late Mr. Hartson, who was a renowned LANDSCAPE ARTIST, having exhibited both in America and Europe, He was a well-known traveler, studying many years abroad. He won many honors, including the National Academy of Design in 1895. First landscape prize, Osborne Competition, New York City, 1904, and was a prominent members of many important artists clubs, including the Chicago Society of Artists, and the Allied Artists of America. This will be a rare opportunity for art lovers to acquire works of this well-known landscape artist. Sale positive. Terms. Cash.”

Their nephew, L. D. Hartson of Oberlin, Ohio, was the administrator of the estate. A professor at Oberlin College at the time, Louis Dunton Hartson was Dewit’s eldest son.

Regardless of the liquidation of Hartsons’ worldly possessions, his scenic art legacy lived on. Near the end of his career, Hartson was remembered by Art Oberbeck. Oberbeck was interviewed by Randi Givercer Frank for her Master’s Thesis, “The Sosman and Landis A Study of Scene Painting in Chicago, 1900-1925” (University of Texas, Austin).” Givercer wrote, “[Hartson] was a New York artist and one of the best exterior painters Art Oberbeck ever encountered. His advice on exterior painting was, “Never paint an exterior using chromes beyond middle distance, Use ochre and cobalt blue for distant green.”

To be continued…

Sosman & Landis: Shaping the Landscape of American Theatre. Employee No. 22 – Harry A. Vincent

Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Harry A. Vincent was a scenic artist who began working with Thomas G. Moses at Sosman and Landis in 1892. His association continued with the firm until 1896 when he moved east and secured work as a scenic artist in New York. In 1922, Moses remembered Vincent as one of the scenic artists who made a name for himself, writing, “Harry A Vincent applied to me for a position. I tried to convince him that he was foolish to break into a business that had a future only in hard work. He succeeded and has become one of the cleverest landscape painters in America. Many of his pictures are being reproduced and selling well.  He is now in Italy on a sketching trip.”

Harry Aiken Vincent was born in Chicago in 1861. He was the youngest child of Aiken Vincent (1816-1881) and Sarah Ann Clark (1825-1918). His mother’s obituary was published on Dec. 17, 1918 and remembered, “Mrs. Vincent was the widow of Aiken Vincent, a paymaster at old Fort Dearborn. Mrs. Vincent frequently related to her children and grandchildren takes of Indian visits” (Chicago Tribune, page 19). Her obituary also noted that she moved to Chicago in 1842. On Dec. 14, 1842, she married her husband. The couple celebrated the birth of four children in the young and bustling western town. Harry’s much older siblings were Catherine M. (b. 1846), Sarah J. (b. 1848), Hamilton Edwin Vincent (b. 1950). Harry was born eleven years after his brother Hamilton, and remained at home well after his father’s passing in 1881.

In 1860, the year before Harry was born, the Vincent family was living at 8 N. Canal street. At the time, the Federal Census listed Aiken Vincent listed as a merchant, a career that he continued throughout his life, although the types of products he sold often changed.

In 1878, the Vincents were residing at 96 Artesian Ave. and Harry Vincent was listed as an artist in the Chicago Directory. He would continue to live at this same address until 1887. In 1884, however, he married to Catharine “Kittie” Frances Ryan (b. 1863). Kitty, or Katy as she was called at home, was the daughter of William and Catharine Ryan. She grew up in Chicago and had two sisters, Bridget and Ann. Kittie and Harry two were married on Feb. 7, 1884 in Chicago. They celebrated the birth of two daughters, Ruth E.  (b. ca., 1891) and Catharine (b. 1896).

Harry was not listed in the Chicago City Directory for 1888, but by 1889 was working at 263 State St. and living at 125 Sibley. Merchants located at 263 State ranged from a photography studio to Martin Emerich Outfitting Co. In 1889. Vincent exhibited with the Chicago Society of Artists. On October 20, 1889, the “Chicago Tribune” published an article entitled “The Works of Young Artists” reporting, “Harry A. Vincent shows a marshy landscape in oils truthfully studied” (page 3). Frank C. Peyraud and Hardesty Maratta also exhibited their paintings at this time. The three would soon all work for Sosman & Landis, each hired by Thomas G. Moses.

In 1892, Vincent, Peyraud and Maratta were working for Moses as part of Sosman & Landis studio’s West Side Force. That year Moses wrote, “The Sosman and Landis Company had my new studio under way on the West Side.  The old Waverly theatre, 93 x 210 feet and 40 feet high; four frames were going in and there was plenty of floor space for all kinds of work.” Moses also noted that his staff consisted of A . J. Rupert, Frank Peyraud and Harry Vincent, and a number of assistants and paint boys.”

In 1892, Moses, Vincent, Rupert and Peyraud painted scenery for William Haworth’s “A Flag of Truth.” Of the project, Moses wrote, “I did a stone quarry set – a very effective scene. Vincent did a big foliage act.” In 1892, Peyraud and Vincent were also part of the sixty-seventh annual exhibition of oil paintings at the National Academy of Design in New York. On April 24, 1892, the “Chicago Tribune” announced that H. A. Vincent’s “A Prairie Farm” and Frank C. Peyraud’s “When the Sun id Slowly Sinking” were part of the New York exhibit. (page 38).

Vincent continued to exhibit his easel art while working as a scenic artist. He was a members of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Cosmopolitan Art Club. By 1894, Vincent, Peyraud and Maratta were part of a group of artists who donated their paintings for a charity. On January 17, 1894, the “Chicago Tribune” advertised that a charity sale of watercolors and oil paintings would be held in the rooms of the Chicago Society of Artists, on the top floor of the Atheneum Building (page 8).   It continued ten days and the proceeds were turned over to the Central Relief Association for the benefit of the needy.  Vincent also donated paintings as part of a  fundraiser for fellow Institute artist Walter M. Dewey. On Feb. 2, 1896, the “Chicago Tribune” reported that Dewey had been ill for several weeks and “His fellow artists, in their sympathy for Mr. Dewey and his family have arranged an exhibition and sale of paintings for his benefit” (page 20).

Vincent’s work as a Chicago scenic artist ended when he moved to New York in 1896. That year, Moses wrote, “In July Mr. Landis dropped in to see me about going back with them, as I was not doing too well.  I agreed with the understanding that all my helpers would be taken care of, excepting Vincent, who went East where he made a hit.  I hustled my unfinished contracts and joined the Sosman and Landis Studios again.”

By 1897, Vincent was listed as a New York scenic artist.  On Nov. 5, 1897, “Star-Gazette” credited Vincent for the stage settings in “Iskander,” a show starring Mr. Warde at the Lyceum Theatre. The New York review reported, “For this great production the scenery is designed and painted by Harry A. Vincent” (Elmira, New York, page 7). Vincent was still listed as a scenic artist in New York City in 1899, living with his family at Park Place, near 8th Ave.

In 1900, the Vincent family moved to New Rochelle, New York. By this time, several of his old friends from Chicago has moved east and were also living nearby; this group included Moses. Moses fondly remembered his sketching trips with Vincent at this time, writing, “John Young and Harry Vincent joined me quite often, as we all lived near the spot.  Occasionally I would go to Seton Falls, a very rugged place…Glen Island was another favorite place for us.  On a hot day about four o’clock,  would run down to 21st Street Dock and take the boat around the Battery to Glen Island where the family would join me for a fine shore dinner.  It was a short car ride from here to Mt. Vernon, so it was very convenient for the family to come and return by the way of New Rochelle.  Occasionally, we would take a ride to Yonkers, then up to Newburgh or West Point on the beautiful Hudson River.”

From 1901-1904, the Moses family lived in Mt. Vernon New York; Moses had partnered with Will Hamilton to establish Moses & Hamilton. By 1905 the Vincents were also living in Mt. Vernon. Prior to their move to Mt. Vernon, however, the Vincents briefly lived in Pelham New York. The 1910 Census listed the family in Mt. Vernon, with their daughters nearly grown. Then something happened; I have no idea what went down.

On October 3, 1916, Harry A. Vincent remarried a woman named Mildred Deitz in Bronx, New York. It is as if his first family simply disappeared, and I have yet to track down any further information about Kittie, Ruth or Catharine. No obituaries, wedding notices or court rulings.

In 1916, Vincent was still listed as a New York artist, living in Mt Vernon. By 1917, he has remarried and moved to New York City. Although he is still working as an artist, he was now living at 904 Ogden Ave. His obituary would note that the couple moved to Rockport, Massachusetts in 1916.

Mildred was a 47-yrs.-old woman from New York, and I cannot locate any additional information about her at all. The two remained married until Harry’s passing in 1931. Between 1916 and 1931, Harry continued to paint, the two traveled overseas and eventually moved to Rockport Massachusetts. For the remainder of their lives, they lived at 30 Atlantic Avenue; Mildred never moved and remained on Atlantic Ave. until her own passing in 1953. In regard to Harry…

On October 1, 1931, his obituary was published in the “Boston Globe” (page 21):

“Harry Aiken Vincent

Rockport, Sept. 30 – Funeral services for Harry Aiken Vincent, 66, one of the outstanding American landscape artists, who died Monday at his home, 30 Atlantic av, were conducted this afternoon from the Vincent residence. The ceremony was private. Rev George Mayo Gerrish, pastor of the Universalist Church, officiating. Cremation will follow.

Mr. Vincent, who has been a resident of the town for the past 15 years, was born in Chicago and achieved fame early in life. For the first 30 years of his professional life he made his home in New York, eventually making his permanent home here.

He held his membership in the National Academy, the New York Water Color Club, the Salmagundi Club, the Allied Artists of America, the Grand Central Galleries and the North Shore Artists’ Association.

In 1907 he won the Shaw Prize of the Salmagundi Club, the Isidor Prize given by that club in 1916, the Turnbull Prize in 1918, the Porter Prize in 1925, the William Church Osborne Prize and the Paul L. Hammond Prize, given by the New York Water Color Club for his painting, ‘Rockport Harbor.’

His wife, Mrs. Mildred (Deitz) Vincent, survives.”

No mention of his first wife or children- odd, unless they dies years ago or were estranged at the time of his death.

Vincent’s artwork lived on…

In 2015, twenty sketchbooks and a portfolio of loose drawings by Harry A. Vincent were sold at auction for $12,300; here is the link:  https://www.skinnerinc.com/auctions/2818T/lots/1167  Several of the sketchbooks in the lots were inscribed “H.A. Vincent,” with two inscribed “P. Cornoyer.” Probably a good  thing that this this wasn’t on my radar at the time.

A few of the sketch books in the auction lot from 2015.

The auction lot not only included pencil and charcoal sketches of various sizes, but also three books belonging to Vincent – The Whistler Book, Dante’s Inferno by Gustave Dore, and A History of Architecture. One of Vincent’s sketchbooks was an artistic record,  thumbnail sketches of various works and notes regarding their sale at galleries. I have to wonder if there were any scene designs included in those sketchbooks. Regardless, I am grateful for the digital age and the many examples of his sketching techniques posted online. There are currently several pencil sketches attributed to Vincent for sale on ebay, and likely from this collection. If they were more intriguing sketches, I would have bought one by now.

Fifteen years ago, the Rockport Art Museum held an exhibit featuring some of his work in “Harry Aiken Vincent and His Contemporaries.” The exhibit ran from October 6 until Nov. 12, 2006. I obviously missed the opening of the exhibit, giving birth to our son Aaron that day. Vincent is still remembered in the fine art world as a successful marine painter and his paintings sell for thousands of dollars. Here is some past works sold at auction: https://www.invaluable.com/artist/vincent-harry-aiken-0bkvzn5gec/sold-at-auction-prices/ and here is a recent listing of a painting on ebay:  https://www.ebay.com/itm/ANTIQUE-19-20th-LISTED-Harry-Aiken-Vincent-AUTUMN-OIL-PAINTING-RECORDS-UP-45000-/400307509884.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to locate a scenic art example?

To be continued…

Sosman & Landis: Shaping the Landscape of American Theatre. Employee No. 21 – Edward A. Morange

Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Edward A. Morange worked with Thomas G. Moses at Sosman and Landis in the early 1880s. He eventually made quite a name for himself in New York and gained a national reputation as a scenic artist, designer and art director. I am going to start with Morange’s personal life before presenting his artistic accomplishments, as it helps provide context for his achievements amidst struggle.

Edward A. Morange was born on March 20, 1865, in Cold Springs, New York. He was the son of Edward B. Morange (1838-1904) and Ellen F. Morange (1838-1888). His father was a machinist who moved west shortly after Edwards birth, relocating the family to Davenport, Iowa. Edward was the third of five children born to the couple. His siblings were William, Emma, Justina and Agnes. By 1880, the Morange family was living in Chicago. This placed Edward in the right place at the right time to begin a scenic art career. The earliest mention of Edward in the newspaper dates from June 26, 1880. That year, the “Chicago Tribune” reported that he received a Foster Medal for his scholarship at the Dore School, one of the largest public schools in Chicago at the time.

After graduation, he soon started a career in scenic art, starting as an apprenticeship at Sosman & Landis and studying at the Art Institute of Chicago. Morange also started painting scenery at the Grand Opera House and going on sketching trips with his colleagues.  In 1882, Morange primarily sketched with Moses, Hardesty Maratta and John H. Young. Of these sketching trips, Moses wrote, ““we certainly had some good trips…We were all working in watercolor. Most of our trips were along the river where we found good material and a lot of adventures – too numerous to mention.  One Sunday we were sketching a grain schooner that was ready to leave at the Rock Island Elevator.  A tug arrived to tow it from the lake.  We objected as we had some work to finish on the sketch.  The tug Captain was good-natured and invited us aboard the tug.  We finished the sketch and rode out in the lake beyond the water crib some three miles.  The Captain brought us back to Washington Street.  We were profuse in our thanks and we were also satisfied.  It gave the crew something to talk about.”  

In 1883, Moses, Young, Morange and Maratta headed west to Breckenridge to see the mountains and gather source material. Moses catalogued the trip and also recorded Morange and Maratta’s early departure, writing, “Morange and Maratta were getting tired of the hard bed and indifferent food, so after a week of it they packed up and started east.  The same day, Young and I started for Dillon by rail.” It is ironic that Morange departed early, as the remainder of his career would be highlighted by sketching trips throughout the world

By the late 1880, Morange met the love of his life, Julia Sowersby. The two were first mentioned in an “Inter Ocean” article on January 13, 1888 (page 8).  Each participating in a Grand March at De Berg’s Hall in Chicago, an early Leap Year celebration.  In 1890, the two married and began their adventure. Julia was born on Feb. 12, 1867, in Chicago. The daughter of Francis R. Sowersby and Eliza Jeffs Sowersby, her ancestors emigrated from England in 1800, initially settling at St. Catherines, Ontario, Canada, before moving to the United States. I doubt that she had any idea what being married to a scenic artist would mean over the years.

            In 1893, the couple celebrated the birth of their first son in Chicago shortly after the opening of the Columbian Exposition. Morange had been hired to design some of the exhibits that year, as his career was starting to take off. By 1895, the couple was living in Washington, D.C. and soon celebrated the birth of their second child. In Washington D.C., Morange studied at the Corcoran School of Arts and Design. On May 18, 1896, their second son, Leonard Sowersby Morange, was born while the Morange’s were living in Washington, D.C. It is purported that Kern wrote “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” in the Morange home and had hoped that Leonard would return home from the war and possibly join him in musical venues. There is some credence to this tale as on Sept. 21, 1920, the “Evening World” reported “As it Should Be.” Jerome Kern, composer, P. O. address Bronxville, has a big heart. One thing he hates to see is embarrassment on the part of a friend. The other evening, he had E. A. Morange, the scenery man, over for dinner. When the guest sat down at his table, he found eight spoons and forks at his place, all properly tagged. One bore a tag reading ‘Soup’, another ‘Coffee,’ a third ‘Ham,’ and so on. Guided by the tags Mr. Morange didn’t make a single faux pas”  (New York, page 20). The two had remained especially close after the passing of Leonard two years earlier.

Leonard left his studies at Yale in 1917 to join the Canadian Flying Corps and was appointed as instructor in the Royal Flying Corps. After being sent to England, he died during a training incident when two student planes collided near Shotwick on 11 August 1918. After his passing, the Bronxville American Legion Post named after him. On March 3, 1928, the “Bronxville Review” remembered the history of Leonard S, Morange and the American Legions Lodge, stating, “It is a proud honor that this post has the heritage of the name of so gallant an officer who not only gave his all for a cause but for an Ally in order to gain that service earlier when it was so seriously needed before his own country had flyers on the front.”

            His older brother Irving also served as a First Lieutenant the American Airforce on the western front. At the time of Leonard’s passing, Irving was already credited with shooting down three German airplanes.   Sadly, Irving passed away from pneumonia in 1926. At the time he was working in Memphis.

            By 1900, the Morange family moved to New York. On October 7, 1903, their younger sister Leila was born and baptized that fall. The family continued to thrive as Edward’s career appeared to be unstoppable, at least until the beginning of WWI. In regard to Leila, she eventually married Leland Hanson and celebrated the birth of two children, Joan (b. 1930) and Leland Jr. (b. 1931).

            The births of the three Morange children in Chicago, Washington, D.C. and New York mark the family’s transition from the Midwest to the East Coast. Initially, Morange’s stage work in Chicago led him to work on outside projects with many other Sosman & Landis artist including, David A Strong and Ernest Albert.  By 1889, Morange and Strong were working together. On March 8, 1889, the “Chicago Tribune” reported, “A bill for a partnership accounting was filed by Edward A. Morange and David A. Strong against James G. Jansen of Jansen, Morange & Co., dealers in materials for making blackboards” (page 10).

            It was in Chicago during 1894 that Edward A. Morange would meet his eventual business partner, Francis “Frank” Edgar Gates. During the day, the two studied fine art and in the evenings, they painted scenery.  Later, Frank’s brother, Richard Henry Gates, joined the team.  Frank and Richard Gates received their academic training at the School of Fine Arts, Washington University, St. Louis. An article in “The Scenic Artist,” noted  “they were practically brought up on theatre from almost infancy, being in a family of theatrical managers, musicians and actors, it was natural that the stage should appeal to them” (Vol. 1, No. 8, December 1927, page 8). The Gates were a family of theatrical managers, musicians, and actors. Frank and Richard eventually partnered with E. A. Morange to form the studio Gates & Morange by 1897 (see past posts from Tales of a Scenic Artist and Scholar, parts 149, 171, and 189-91).

Although Gates and Morange had worked on many projects together, their first Broadway credits date from 1897 – “Straight from the Heart” by Sutton Vane and Arthur Shirley. The scenic studio of Gates & Morange was to become one of the premiere scenic studios during the early twentieth century. Although starting in Chicago, they soon moved their company to New York to produce settings for dozens of Broadway shows. Their first Broadway credits date from 1897 – “Straight from the Heart” by Sutton Vane and Arthur Shirley.  Artists that worked for their firm over the years included Thomas Benrimo, William E. Castle, Charles Graham, Alexander Grainger, Arne Lundberg, and Orestes Raineiri.  The New York Public Library also holds the Gates & Morange Design Collection (1894-1953), containing original set designs, curtain designs, olio designs, trade show designs, and several exhibitions.

By 1907, their incorporated their partnership. On Feb. 7, 1907, the “New York Time” announced the incorporation of “Gates & Morange, Inc., North Pelham (stage settings) capital $100,000, Directors – F. E. Gates, Tucakahie; E. A. Morange, Mount Vernon; R. N. Gates, Bronxville.” (page 13). Morange was also integral in establishing the eastern affiliate of Sosman & Landis, New York Studios shortly after incorporating Gates and Morange. In 1910, David H. Hunt, Secretary and treasurer of Sosman & Landis, established New York Studios.  He was one of the initial stockholders; at the beginning the firm’s stockholders included David H. Hunt, Adelaide Hunt, Edward Morange, Henry L. Rupert, and W. E. Castle. New York Studios listed Adelaide A. Hunt as the President, Edward A. Morange as the vice president, and David H. Hunt, as the Treasurer. The company’s starting capital was $40,000, and listed the following directors: Edward A. Morange, Adelaide A. and David H. Hunt, with offices located at 325 W 29th  Street, New York. Business listings noted that theatrical equipment was the primary product produced by the company.

It was during this time that Morange was gaining a national reputation, helping secure Gates and Morange an incredible amount of work. Throughout the duration of Gates & Morange; Morange was the primary visionary and traveler, gathering source material for their designs. Gates managed the studio and the contracts.

Edward A. Morange’s passport picture.

In 1908, the U. S., Government sent Morange to the Northwestern Territory to make sketches preparatory to painting a mammoth panorama for the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific exposition in Seattle, Washington. Morange also painted scenes for the government of Yosemite, Yellowstone National Park, Glacier National Park, the Grand Canyon, and many other areas. Morange constantly took advantage of painting from nature, keeping research files from trips throughout the World.  However, his grandest adventures were with George C. Tyler, the head of Leibler & Co., and English Director Frederick Stanhope.

Their international adventures began in 1911, necessitating Morange applying for a passport on March 20, 1911. He was preparing to visit England and Havre, but ended up touring England, France, Germany, Algeria and Tunis for two months.  His physical description at the time was listed as 5’-5”, high forehead, broad mouth, square chin, dark brown hair (with grey and parted in the middle), blue grey eyes, ruddy complexion and smooth shaven. In 1991, he was 46 yrs. old and living with his family in Mt Venon, New York. Richard H. Gates certified the information on Morange’s application was correct. The purpose for Morange’s trip was to gather information for the upcoming production, “The Garden of Allah.” Years later, a story from the trip was included in his obituary:

“Mr. Morange spent the summer of 1911 in Africa gathering material. While on this trip an attempt was made to affect the first crossing o the Sahara desert by automobile, and effort that failed eleven miles from the starting point when Mr. Morange’s car was buried in a sandstorm.”              His experience was first shared in “Staging a Sandstorm” by Wendell Phillips Dodge in 1912 (The Theatre, Volume 15, 1912. Here is the article, as it is just wonderful:

“The busiest actor on the stage of the Century Theatre, where Robert Hichens’ drama, ”The Garden of Allah,” is still attracting large crowds, is the sand man. Though he occupies the centre of the stage only about one-fifth of the time that it takes Lewis Waller to give Boris Androvsky’s long soliloquy, he nevertheless grips the audience more than any other incident in the play.

While the sand man does not appear in the cast, still he is very much in evidence behind the scenes. For his one big scene he requires the entire stage from the foots to the backdrop, from wings to wings and from the boards to the flies; and for his quick-change dressing-room he must have the great thirty-foot deep pit, the breadth and depth of the stage itself, which extends under the stage. For his “make-up” he requires almost a ton of dry colors for the ground alone, and no less than three hundred pounds of powder for the high lights. In making up he has to use eight tables and is assisted by thirty dressers in putting on his costume. His “make-up” is put on with the aid of a dozen powerful electrical blowers, in order to give the right blend, and his costume is made to fly before the breeze by an electrically-driven stage gale that would make the winds of Chicago’s lake front seem like a gentle summer’s night air ripple. He makes his entrance at top speed and keeps on moving in a whirling-dervish sort of a way throughout the scene, occupying the centre and every other part of the stage at once and all the time until the close of his speech, which is the most heart-body and-soul-rending in the whole play, filling the minds and hearts of the audience with all the emotions that exist between earth and sky.

In order to stage the sandstorm in “The Garden of Allah.” in spirit and in truth, George C. Tyler, of the firm of Liebler and Company, went into the heart of the great Sahara Desert, accompanied by Hugh Ford, general stage director, and Edward A. Morange, of the firm of Gates and Morange, scenic artists, and laid siege to an actual and ferocious sandstorm which they captured and have transported in all its fiery temper to the Century Theatre, New York.

Mr. Tyler sent his automobile to Cherbourg, and from there the motor trip into the desert began. At Marseilles, they embarked on the Ville d Oran, a small boat, to the African coast. After a rough passage the party reached Philippeville, from which point they put out for the Sahara. On the road between El-Arrouch and Le Hamma the sight of the “devil wagon” spread consternation, once entirely demoralizing a caravan, causing a stampede of camels. After some hours of speeding over the sands of time, the party passed El Kantara. Another hour and they arrived at an oasis in the centre of which lies the city of Biskra. Here they met Mr. Hichens, and after a reading of the dramatization of his novel amid the true atmosphere suggested in the book, they started out to reach the heart of the desert. Theirs’ was the first automobile that had ever penetrated the sands of the Sahara, and this it did to such an extent that on one occasion it sank so deep it took six donkeys and a camel to pull it out of the hole it dug as it plowed through the sand, embedding itself deeper and deeper with each drive. They were no sooner out of this difficulty than they ran into a real sandstorm.

“We had been gone from Biskra a short three hours,” said Mr. Morange, “when we began to find it necessary to put on our goggles and raincoats to protect our bodies from the sand, lifted and swirled around by intermittent, playful gusts of wind. Looking at” a herd of camels, probably an eighth of a mile away, we noticed that different groups of them would suddenly be veiled to our view while others to both sides would be perfectly visible. Turning to look at the low hills that stand out dark against the sands in front of them and darker still against the sky beyond, we saw faintly what appeared to be steam, along the surface in various shapes, rising from the sands as they approached the dark hills, and veiling them until they, the sky above and the sands in front melted into one even tone of light, misty, yellowish gray. Around the veiled mass the sun was shining. A feeling of discomfort, not unmixed with anxiety, possessed our party as the bright sun, with which we started out, disappeared. To move our jaws but slightly found us grinding sand with our teeth, and we instinctively tied our handkerchiefs around our heads, covering our nostrils and securing some protection for the mouth. We could no longer pick out the road that but a few moments before was well defined by the ruts made by the mail diligence that regularly struggles between Biskra and Touggourt. The shifting sand had been blown over the road as snow might obscure a highway. We had gone to the desert for ‘atmosphere’ and we were getting it with a vengeance.

We stopped the car, as we all agreed that it would be dangerous to proceed. From the direction from which we had noticed many little whirling steam-like gusts appear, we were now startled by the appearance of a huge irregular cloud, probably a hundred feet in width, moving rapidly toward us. A curious feature of it was that the bottom of it seemed to clear the ground, often rising and sinking alternatively. The color of the cloud was much darker than that of the sands around it. It was of a rather dirty yellowish red, but very luminous in quality. A half dozen camels that we could dimly distinguish, crouched or knelt, huddled together, stretching their necks close to the ground, their heads turned toward the approaching cloud. “The edge of this cloud, nearest to us, seemed entirely independent of the surrounding atmosphere, but as we were directly in its path, we instinctively closed our eyes, crouched in the automobile and turned our backs on it, as one would a blinding onslaught of snow and sleet. We were conscious of a hot, stinging sensation in the parts of our flesh exposed and a peculiar whistling, swirling rush of something passing over us for a few seconds. When I partially opened my eyes. I realized that it was almost as dark as night. When it grew lighter, we found ourselves in a yellowish, smoky fog of fine sand. We had to wait for probably fifteen minutes before the air cleared sufficiently for us to distinguish objects fifty feet away. Protected in the car as well as we were, we were still half-choked with sand. Little piles of sand were heaped up in front of the wheels and in all places that would allow them to form, as drifts of snow might pile. At this moment, we fully realized the oppressiveness of this dreary waste, this awful ocean of seemingly boundless sand.”

The question now was how to transfer the real, living sandstorm to the stage of the Century Theatre. Stage sandstorms date back more than twenty years, when one was introduced in Fanny Davenport’s production of “Gismonda.” This sandstorm, naturally, was very crude, since in those days there was no such thing as light effects nor stage mechanism. The players themselves created the sandstorm by tossing handfuls of Fuller’s earth over their heads to the accompaniment of the rubbing of sandpaper in the wings to give the suggestion of wind blowing. Belasco put over the first realistic sandstorm in “Under Two Flags,” causing Fuller’s earth to be blown through funnel-like machines from the wings, while at the same time stereopticon cloud storm effects were played on gauze drops. Mr. Belasco also introduced the now famous bending palm to stage sandstorms, to convey the idea of motion. Once when “Under Two Flags” was produced in San Francisco the local stage manager told the property man to get something that could be blown across the stage, to be used in the sandstorm scene. There was not time for a scene rehearsal, but the property man connected a “blower” made out of a soap box with the ventilating system, and as the cue was given, tossed heaps of flour into the box to be blown over the stage. The play ended right there, with scenery and everything covered as if a blizzard had struck the place! It required weeks to get the flour off of the scenery, to which it stuck and hardened. Last year Frederic Thompson introduced a sandstorm in a scene showing the Western Bad Lands, sawdust being blown from the wings. But the sawdust scattered everywhere, even into the orchestra.

Messrs. Tyler and Ford found no bending palms in the storm they witnessed and encountered on the Sahara, so no bending palms appear in “The Garden of Allah” sandstorm. Yet motion is suggested by other means—the robes of an Arab going across the stage waving, the sides of the Arab tent flapping in the wind, the garment of Batouch, Domini’s servant, fluttering when he emerges from the tent to tighten the anchorage rope to the windward. Besides these things, there is the whirling swirling sand forming real sandspouts, such as have never before found their way on the stage.

To create the actual whirlwind that blows the sand at the Century Mr. Ford installed under the stage a series of powerful electric blowers, and connected these with pipes leading up through the stage flooring at carefully planned points of vantage. One set of pipes is located by the left-stage tormentor near the front of the tent, and another on the other side of the proscenium by the right-stage tormentor. There is another set of these pipes hidden behind the tent towards the centre of the stage, and still another set backstage. The pipe sets consist of four pipes such as are used for drain-pipes on houses, of different heights and with the openings placed at slightly different angles. Under the stage alongside of the electric blowers are two rows of troughs, one on either side of the stage, into which a dozen men feed the “sand,” which is forced up the pipes and blown at a rate far exceeding that of any windstorm ever experienced on land or sea! In all there are twenty blowers, arranged in four series of five each. Another single blower is placed in the left-stage tormentor and blows only air, to dispel the continuous streams of sand blown through the pipes by the other blowers. The pipes are so placed and arranged on the stage as to provide a continuous whirling swirl of sand, never ending, never-ceasing, ever increasing in its fiery fury, until the storm quiets down and the light of day brightens the scene.

Mr. Ford placed the pipes at different angles so that each one would send a stream of sand that would cut and dispel the stream from another pipe, thus obtaining a continuous spiral sandspout instead of a streak of sand like the tail of a comet from each pipe. Also, the three sets of pipes used for creating the sandstorm are started and worked alternately, beginning with the set in front of the tent, then the set at the right side of the proscenium, and finally the set beside the tent, towards the centre of the stage. This alternate movement gives the swirling effect that makes the storm real. The one set of pipes placed back stage behind the tent, however, shoots straight across the stage in order to give a cloud of mystery and add density to the scene.

About three hundred pounds of sand is blown through the four sets of pipes at each performance. This is kept from blowing into the auditorium by means of an “air curtain” at the foot lights and at the first entrances, enough pressure of compressed air to keep the “sand” back. The sand used is nothing more nor less than good old cornmeal! Three hundred pounds is wasted at each performance—enough to feed a whole ranch!

Cornmeal was resorted to after everything else, including sand itself, had failed to blow and act like sand on the stage. Real sand from Fire Island beach was first tried, but besides being too heavy to be kept swirling in the air, it did not look like sand when the lights were thrown on it. Real sand on the stage when the lights were thrown on it as it was blown across the stage looked like so much soft coal soot.

The heaps of sand on the stage, forming the minor sand dunes, and also the ground of the desert, are composed of ground cork, painted an orange yellow. Cork is used because it is clean and dustless and easily handled.

To light the sandstorm, Mr. Ford uses only the footlights, the central portion being a deep orange with a deep blue on either side. This keeps the heart of the storm, so to speak, in the light, and the edges are blended away into the darkness at the sides of the stage, providing not only absolute realism, but shadings that suggest the most delicate of pastels. The wonderful lighting of this scene shows the varying color emotions of the desert, with its sand dunes of the palest primrose, and the purple fury of the desert storm.

Stereopticon storm cloud effects are thrown on the sand curtain formed by the cornmeal slung across the back of the stage by the pipes put there for that purpose, and on a gauze curtain just behind, from arc-lights placed on two lighting tops built on either side of the proscenium.

To obtain the delicate pastel light effects of the sandstorm and of the other desert scenes in “The Garden of Allah,” Mr. Ford first painted the scenes with stage lights using the remarkable switchboard of the former New Theatre for his palette, and the clouds of cornmeal as his canvas. In that way, having the true picture of the sandstorm, which he had himself seen in the Sahara in his mind, he achieved what no one else ever has done before—he has, “in spirit and in truth,” transported the sandstorm of the desert, with all its multitudinous shades and shadows, feelings and emotions, to the stage.

On Jan. 6, 1913, the “St. Louis Star and Times” published an article written by Morange, entitled “A Visit to the Wonderful Home of Wonderful Loti.” After designing and painting scenery for “The Garden of the Gods,” Morange was involved with “The Daughter of Heaven,” a play of Chinese life by Pierre Loti and Judith Gautler, produced by Liebler & Co.

Morange received a noted form G. C. Tyler of the Leibler Co. on Jan. 2, 1912, that stated, “Tomorrow, at 11, if convenient, we’ll take up the matter of a successor to ‘The Garden of Allah’ at the Century. Prepare to put your summer at my disposal.”  The summer before, Tyler, Hugh Ford, the stage director and Morang traveled to “the heart of the desert of Sahara, one of the most interesting trips ever taken, in order that we might absorb Algerian atmosphere preparatory to staging Hichens play.” Morange explained that he reported promptly at 11. “Well,” said I, ‘where do we go this summer? To India?” “No,.” said Tyler, “next year’s spectacle at the Century will be a drama of modern China.” “Then we go to China,” I suggested. “Better than that,” said Tyler, “I am going to take you to the wonderspot of the world. We go to Rochefort.” I need no further. Explanation. Since my early youth I had been an enthusiast over modern French literature. And of its motley crew of masters, one figure stood forth in highlight. “We go to see Pierre Loti?” I gasped. “Right,” replied Tyler. “Loti has written for us a Chinese play entitled ‘The Daughter of Heaven”…”No Americans have ever visited Loti at his home before.” Tyler went on. “We sail early in March. My automobile will meet us at Cherbourg and after a few days in Paris, we proceed directly to Loti’s home.” The program was carried out to the letter.” There is much more to the article, but I am stopping here.1912 was also the year that the Morange Family moved to Bronxville, New York. Edward and Julia would remain in Bronxville for the remainder of their lives.

In 1914 Morange  was listed as the art director for a silent movie, “The Great Diamond Robbery.” This six-reel film was assembled by the Playgoer’s Film Company of New York City, shown in five acts, 6 parts, 250 scenes. Listings advertised, “It is indeed a masterpiece of photoplay productions” (“Altoona Tribune,” 8 May 1914, page 3). The film was based on the play by Edward M. Alfriend and A. C. Wheeler. On March 20, 1914, the New York Tribune published, “At last a theatrical manager has put on a legitimate drama, with a cast composed entirely of screen novices, but stage veterans. The resulting motion picture more than justifies the effort…‘The Great Diamond Robbery’ is a melodrama which was produced in New York about twenty years ago, when it ran for about a year in the American Theatre.  It is adorned with regular melodrama features, such as a beautiful villainess, a working girl heroine and gallant detective, who foils assorted criminals and marries the working girl.  But the story is nevertheless one that holds attention.” Wallace Eddinger starred as detective Dick Brummage in a case involving a Brazilian adventurous (Gail Kane) and the theft of the fabulous Romanoff diamonds.  When Detective Brummage proved Kane’s guilt, she took poison.

It is right around this time that life began to change for the Morange. The war began, his sons enlisted to serve, and Leonard perished. He continued to succeed in business, but some of the spark left him. On May 8, 1920, he applied for a passport to visit Leonard’s grave in England. In regard to his reason for travel on his passport application, he initially wrote, “To visit my son’s grave,” but then crossed it out and wrote, “to tour and visit friends.” Morange’s application at the time listed that he lived outside of the United States for the following periods:

England/France/Germany/Algeria/Tunis April 1911-June 1911

England/France May 1912-June 1912

England/France March 1914-June 1914.

Further information on his application noted that That he was currently living in Bronxville, NY and worked as a scenic artist. His last passport was from March 1911. He was planning travel to England and Havre and initially wrote (visiting my son’s grave, then crossed that out and wrote touring and visiting friends.

Throughout the 1920s, the reputation of Gates & Morange continued to grow. In 1927. The “Scenic Artist” featured an article about the firm, concluding, “It is refreshing to know that here is one studio housing a large staff of academically trained artists that has kept pace with the insurgent movement with its radical and liberal tendencies, which has been at work in recent years in the theatres of Europe and America. That Gates & Morange have accepted what is sane and beneficial of this movement is readily seen by the numerous beautiful compositions covering the walls of their design rooms and bulging out their portfolios.  Through them all is seen the sureness and artistic simplicity that only an artist of thorough and correct draughtsmanship, with a fine decorative feeling, a profound knowledge and delicate sense of color and imagination could create.  The present possibilities of producing pleasing or bizarre effects with the highly perfected and easily operated electric equipment of the modern stage, has opened the theatre to the many experiments and faddist illusions that none but an experienced scenic artist could endow with poetical beauty and mystery they exhibit.  With all these the stage has not lost its glamour for these artists as the many new ideas and effects around which authors and composers may write plays or revues, upon the initiative of these creators of things novel and beautifully interesting.”

Gates & Morange Design Library. Undated clipping in the scrapbook of Thomas G. Moses (1856-1934).
1903-1904 advertisement for Gates & Morange.

Although Morange continued to design and paint, he became involved with Gates on other business endeavors, such as real estate development. On June 30, 1938, the “Bronxville Review” announced, “Edward A. Morange of Sagamore Rd, is a member of the six-man fact finding committee headed by the village trustee Joseph T. Creamer, of Tuckahoe, appointed by Mayor Walter D. Crouch of that village on Tuesday as the initial step by officials to establish a housing authority to eliminate slums” Gates and Morange were heavily invested in the development of Sagamore; they bought multiple lots and developed them, each working with their own architect.

Morange’s roots remained tied to Bronxville, and a lovely obituary was published upon his passing on May 26, 1955. Here is a portion of it, as it sums up a lovely and ambitious life:

“Both a scenic artist and stage set designer, Mr. Morange was a member of Gates & Morange in New York and was active until the start of his illness in 1951. When he joined Frank and Richard Gates, the first firm assignment  was painting a curtain for Springfield, Mass., the theaters which helped establish the reputation of the concern. The work was soon in demand and among the scenery Mr. Morange and the firm designed were sets for Florenz Ziegfeld, George C. Tyler, Harrison Grey Fiske, and Leibler & Co. Some of the firm’s settings for Charles Couglan’s ‘Citizen Pierre,’ [or the operetta ‘Off the Earth’] and for ‘The Garden of Allah’ which was not done until Mr. Morange spent the summer of 1911 in Africa gathering material. While on this trip an attempt was made to effect the first crossing o the Sahara desert by automobile, and effort that failed eleven miles from the starting point when Mr. Morange’s car was buried in a sandstorm. He also went to Alaska to prepare a panorama of the region for the U. S. Government. On this trip he developed the idea for the famous totem pole dance which was later incorporated into the musical ‘Rose Marie.” Most of the hits of the day bore the setting credit to Gates and Morange, and included ‘Daughter of Heaven,” and ‘Joseph and his Brethren.’ The Brander Matthews Museum at Columbia University uses some of the company’s models, and in 1949 Mr. Morange’s work was featured in the exhibit “Behind American Footlights” at the Metropolitan Museum. Settings for ‘Promander Walk’ are said to have inspired architectural projects in the Eat, and the apple orchard scene in ‘Leah Kleschna’ and the London Bridge scene in ‘Oliver Twist’ brought special praise form the critics.”  His illness started with “a cerebral hemorrhage  in a New York motion picture theater. He was brought to Lawrence Hospital by ambulance and later was taken to Connecticut.”

There is so much more that could be written about Morange in terms of his scenic contributions, but that would be a book in itself.

To be continued…

Sosman & Landis: Shaping the Landscape of American Theatre. Employee No. 20 – Jess D. Bonner

Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Jess D. Bonner (1879-1914) worked as a scenic artist for Sosman & Landis, c. 1902-1906. I initially stumbled across his name when looking for information about scenic artist Howard Tuttle. In 1907, Bonner was assisted by Howard’s son, with Maurice Tuttle.

Maurice Tuttle in 1907
Jess D. Bonner in 1907

On December 8, 1907, the  “Los Angeles Herald” published an article entitled, “Jess D. Bonner and His Work.” After describing Bonner’s scenic contributions for the production of “Cleopatra” and “Sign of the Cross,” the article mentioned his early training in Indianapolis and work for Sosman & Landis. At the time, Bonner was 28 yrs. old.

Here is the article in its entirety, as it provides a wonderful glimpse into backstage life and Bonner and his directing a storm scene for ‘Cleopatra.” 

 “Did you ever witness a storm in the tropics – a storm that carries before it, punctuating its approach with vivid flashes of lightning through inky blackness and foretelling destruction by an incessant cannonading in the overcast heavens? If you have you will. Appreciate the difficulties of reproducing such a phenomena upon the stage and yet, if you saw the Ferris production of ‘Cleopatra’ at the Auditorium a few weeks ago, you will realize that the task had been accomplished.

“There was a storm, the most realistic and terrible of its kind ever placed upon a Los Angeles stage. From in front of the curtain the effect was tremendous. The storm king, majestic in his wrath, arose at command of the Egyptian queen to destroy the Roman fleet. Darkness fell. A tempest arose. Lightning flashed athwart the horizon, and the crash of thunder was deafening. Great palms swayed to and fro and fell crashing to the stage before the fury of the onslaught. Storm clouds raced madly across the sky. It was nature in hostile mood, a wonderful picture of terribly destructive and unleashed power.

King of the Storm.

“Back of the scenes a young man, short and heavily set, stood calmly regarding his work. This was his storm. He had made it, and his hand was on the lever of its control. He seemed unconcerned in the midst of the tumult. He didn’t even laugh, and certainly the scene was ridiculous enough to compel laughter from the ordinary observer.

“Over to the left of the stage was a wagon piled high with boulders. Its wheels were elliptical, and when conveyance was dragged across the floor a heavy rumble of thunder resulted. High up in the wings was the thunder boy with still more boulders, which, on signal, he dumped into an irregular wooden chute with many turnings. These rocks hurtling stageward in their narrow confines thundered realistically until they struck. At the bottom, a heavy metal sheet put there for that purpose. This was the crash that seemed so fearsome from the auditorium.

“So much thunder. Back of the horizon line stood a stagehand. Jovelike in his control of the clouds. He revolved a painted glass disk at the end of a tin cylinder, back of which was a strong light. The scene, a transparency, caught up the clouds, which then scudded across the sky as though driven by a mighty wind.

How Lightning is Made.

“Still another mechanic controlled the lightning, produced by a similar contrivance, the glass being smoked and black, and irregular lines scratched across its surface by a pin point. This provided the flash outlined against the heavens, while the glare came from two carbons, manipulated by hand and which lighted up the entire stage when brought into contact.

The storm rose to a sublime height of fury, then the curtain fell and the audience broke into enthusiastic applause. Once, twice, three times, the great velvet was raised and lowered. The lights sprang up and in an instant the storm disappeared, the scene was struck and a new one erected in its place.

“Great, Jess, great!” called Dick Ferris approvingly, and Jess D. Bonner smiled and went about his further business. It had been merely an incident in his week’s work.

“Bonner is a young man. He looks scarcely more than a boy and readily confesses that his youthful appearance in the past has militated against his profitable employment, managers being afraid to trust so young a man with the important duties which fall to an artist in his position.

A Master Scene Painter.

“Jess Bonner is a master scene painter. He has painted and designed scenes used in Ferris productions. Every newspaper in town has commented upon the beauty of the work. Every patron of the playhouse has marveled at the lavishness of the productions. Yet few of them ever have heard of Bonner, and probably not one in ten thousand would recognize him on the street. He is the busiest man around the Auditorium. Sedley Brown, stage director, has his troubles and is fairly busy himself, but Bonner, when he is engaged upon a big production, does most of his sleeping paint brush in hand. Last week he built, “Sign of the Cross,” which will be the biggest thing yet placed on the Auditorium stage. There are fourteen scenes in this four-act play, and Mr. Bonner was called upon to turn them out in eleven days’ time. He has one assistant regularly employed – Maurice Tuttle – and a paint boy to help him.

30,000 Square Feet of Canvas.

“For ‘The Sign of the Cross’ production there was a total of 30,000 square feet of canvas to be covered and the task was too great. Consequently, Arthur Hurtt was called upon to assist and Mr. Hurtt painted four drops, which will be shown for the first time tomorrow night. These drops contain about 1500 square feet of canvas each, leaving some 24,000 feet to be painted by Mr. Bonner and his assistant. This includes still other drops, two interiors, one of them a prison scene and the other an apartment in Nero’s palace; a forest scene, wings, borders and so forth. Bonner completed the work late last night. Then he went home with the avowed intention of sleeping through the ensuing twenty-four hours without interruption.

“Jess Bonner began his work as a scene painter at Indianapolis under the direction of Walter Clark Bellows at the Grand Opera House. That was eight years ago. Since then he has been employed in numerous studios and by several different stock organizations. He painted all the scenery for Dick Ferris’ production of ‘The Sleepy King,’ an ill-starred musical affair which Mr. Ferris put out several seasons ago and which proved a failure, though it was produced on a lavish scale and was presented by an all-star cast of musical comedians, headed by Walter Jones.

Was in San Francisco.

“For a year and a half Mr. Bonner was with the Grand and Tivoli opera houses in San Francisco, his employment there being terminated by the great fire. In Chicago he was with the Bush Temple stock Company. In Chicago also he was employed during several summers at the Sosman & Landis scenic studios, the largest in America, and the other night happening to drop in at the Mason Opera house, he saw a scene which he had painted in that employ, not knowing where it was to go or what use was to be made of it.

Mr. Bonner’s work, however, is far beyond that of a mere scene painter. He makes all his own designs. Thus, he must ‘be up’ in all styles of architecture, in all periods of ornamentation; and he must guard constantly against the instruction of the incongruous and the anachronistic. This has made him a student and he is today one of the best-informed men on a wide range of subjects in his profession.

For “The Great Ruby” he painted a scene in the clouds, nothing of earth being visible. For ‘Under the Sea’ he painted a submarine scene. So, as he himself says, his studies are not confined to earth alone, but to the heavens and the waters as well. His is a comprehensive art and he is master in its execution, as well as a master in lighting effects and in all the details of stage mechanics.”

Seven years later, Bonner passed away in Minneapolis, Minnesota. At the time of his passing, Bonner was working as a scenic artist for the Twin City Scenic Co. His obituary was published in the “Indianapolis Star” on November 12, 1914 and the notice stated, “The body of Jesse D. Bonner, formerly of Indianapolis, who died Nov. 7 at Minneapolis, has been brought here for burial. He was born in Indianapolis thirty-five years ago. He was a scenic artist and had been identified with studios in San Francisco, Los Angeles and Minneapolis. He is survived by a widow, a sister, Mrs. Jesse B. Johnston of San Francisco, and a brother Robert O. Bonner of Indianapolis. The funeral will be held tomorrow afternoon at the home of Mr. Bonner’s brother, 201 North Nee Jersey street. Burial will be in Crown Hill Cemetery” (page 14).

Jesse D. Bonner. From his 1914 obituary listing.

Jesse Dun Bonner was born in Evansville, Indiana, in 1879. He was the son of James B. Bonner (1835-1893) and Deborah Anna Houghland Bonner (1842-1912). His parents were married in Warrick County in 1870, celebrating the birth of four children: Estella, Ida, Robert, and Jesse. When their father passed away in 1893, the “Booneville Enquirer” reported that Mr. Bonner was born in Booneville, Indiana, July 2, 1835 and married Miss Deborah Houghland on Jan. 9, 1868. The Bonners moved to  Evansville in 1880, where they continued to reside. The article described that Mr. Bonner “was taken from his work by cancer which formed in his side, which first made an appearance last May. In spite of the best medical attention, it would not yield to treatment, and caused his death. Four children are left with his wife to mourn his loss – Mrs. Owen Lloyd of Indianapolis, Robert, Ida and Jesse at home (4 May 1893, page 4). At the time of his father’s death, Jesse was thirteen years old.

His mother’s obituary in 1912 added a little more information about the Bonner’s early life in Evansville and Indianapolis. On August 20, 1912, the “Indianapolis News” reported, “Mrs. Bonner had never fully recovered from an operation she underwent a year and a half ago. She was born in Boonville, Indiana, in 1842, and lived in Evansville for some time before she came to this city in 1898. After coming to Indianapolis, she lived at the home of her son Robert O. Bonner, in the Clarina apartments. She is survived by two sons, Robert O. Bonner of this city and Jess D. Bonner of Minneapolis, Minn., a daughter, Mrs. Estelle B. Johnston of Los Angeles, Cali., and a brother Oscar B. Houghland, of Evansville. Mrs. Bonner was a lifelong member of the Presbyterian church and was actively associated with the church work” (page 4).

Indiana directories provided a trail of breadcrumbs for Jesse’s early work as an ornamental painter and scenic artist. In 1897, he was listed as a decorator in 1897, living with his mother, brother and sister in Evansville. In 1898, he and his sister Ida moved to Indianapolis where they lived together at  1207 N. Illinois. Ida was listed as a music teacher and Jesse as an artist. By 1899, Jesse was living by himself and listed as a fresco artist, boarding at 915. N. Illinois. It must have been around this time that Bonner assisted Walter Clark Bellows at the Grand Opera House. Bonner was listed in the Indianapolis  Directory until the 1901, finally boarding at No. 9 in accommodations known as “the Ballard.” By 1902, Bonner had moved to Chicago, Illinois. This is likely when Bonner first worked for Sosman & Landis.

A 1909 article about Bonner and his scenic art mentioned that he worked on the original productions of “The Wizard of Oz and “Arizona.” (Indianapolis News, 24 Nov. 1909, page 5).  I have written about these productions in in past posts, as Walter W. Burridge designed the  scenery and painted some of the setting for the premiere at the Chicago Opera House. Other scenic artists who worked in the production included Fred Gibson, Herbert Martin and artists from the Daniels Scenic Co. This means that Bonner was one of the assistants in Chicago in 1902. This same year, Jesse D. Bonner was listed under “Marriage Licenses” in the Chicago Tribune.” August 28, 1902, the “Chicago Tribune” listed a marriage license was granted to Jess D. Bonner and Ruby H. Dean, ages 22 and 20. Ruby Hunt Dean was also living in Indianapolis with her mother in 1900, likely when she first met Jesse. The marriage did not last, however,  and on July 30, 1909 she married her second husband, Walter K. Lincoln (1876-1930). Lincoln was a lawyer, and they remain together until his passing in 1930. Ruby never remarried lived until 1973. She is buried in Tucson, Arizona.

By 1904, Bonner was living in Minneapolis and listed as a stagehand at the Lyceum Theatre in the City Directory, He was rooming at 1502 Nicollet Ave. By 1906, Bonner was a scenic artist at the Tivoli Theatre in San Francisco. After the earthquake and fire, his relatives searched for him in the newspapers. On May 1, 1906, the “San Francisco Call” published a notice for Bonner: “ANYONE knowing whereabouts of Jesse D. Bonner, scenic artist, late of Tivoli, send word to Governor’s office, Sacramento” (page 6).

By 1909, Bonner was again working as a scenic artist in Minneapolis but completed a project in Indianapolis. On Nov. 24, 1909, the “Indianapolis News” reported, “The palace and garden drop curtains of the new Colonial Theatre were painted by Jess D. Bonner, of Minneapolis, who began his work in connection with the old Grand stock company, of this city. After leaving here he studied in the scenic studio of Sosman & Landis, Chicago. He painted scenery for theaters in Chicago, Minneapolis, Los Angeles, San Francisco and other places, and worked on the original production of ‘The Wizard of Oz,” and ‘Arizona.’ The central idea for the garden drop curtain of the Colonial theater was taken from the drawing for a program cover made by Mr. Williams, cartoonist of the Indianapolis News. Mr. Bonner is yet under thirty years of age” (page 5).

In 1909, Jesse D. Bonner was listed as an artist in the Minneapolis Directory, working for the Twin City Scenic Co. and living in flat 1, 60 N. 12th St. In 1910, Jesse D. Bonner was listed as a scenic artist in the Minneapolis City Directory, living at flat 1, 68 N. 12th. In 1911, he was again listed in the directory, now living at flat 5, 1695 Hennepin Ave. In 1913, he was working for the Twin City Scenic Co. and rooming at 2819 Nicollet Ave.

Jess Bonner’s gravestone at Crown Hill Cemetery, Indianapolis, Indiana.

When Bonner died in 1914, his obituary noted a widow, but did not list a name. At the time of his passing, Jesses was married to Frances.  The 1915 Minneapolis city directory listed Frances E.  as the widow of Jesse D. Bonner, boarding as 900 22nd Ave NE. This is the same location listed for Jesse D. Bonner in 1914.  Interestingly, their last home together was only four blocks away from where my husband and I purchased our first home and lived from 1995 to 2003.

To be continued…

Sosman & Landis: Shaping the Landscape of American Theatre. Employee No. 19 – Howard Tuttle

Copyright © 2021 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Howard Tuttle worked for Thomas G. Moses and the Sosman & Landis studio, c. 1887-1890. 

Tuttle was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania in 1859. Very little is known of Tuttle’s training or early childhood. However, his artistic endeavors on the streets of Philadelphia included sidewalk drawing, a pastime that connected Tuttle to Henry and James William Carling in an article published by the “Times Dispatch” on May 2, 1937 (Richmond, Virginia, page 63). The article reported, “James landed in Philadelphia, and the two brothers continued their sidewalk drawing with a boy named Howard Tuttle, the famous manhood scenic artist.”  For historical context, Carling supported himself as a sidewalk artist and Vaudeville caricaturist for a while in America.

In regard to Tuttle, in 1877 he married Sarah Gohl (1860-1921) and the two celebrated the birth of three children. The eldest, Percy Tuttle, was born in Chicago in 1878 and became an actor. He was the first to pass away in 1908 from a tumor that caused paralysis of both upper and lower extremities. Hazel was born in Michigan in 1886 and Maurice was born in Chicago in 1889. Both followed in their father’s footsteps as scenic artists.

The first listing that I have located for Tuttle as a scenic artist is in 1885. He was working as a scenic artist at Hooley’s Theatre, while living at 359 Hurlbut Ave.

Two years later, he was working for Thomas G. Moses and then Sosman & Landis.  In 1887, Moses established Burridge, Moses & Louderback, a scenic studio at with Walter W. Burridge and J. D. Louderback at the Columbia Theatre. pulled out of the firm by that fall, with Moses & Louderback continuing for a short period after that. When Burridge left, Moses hired Howard Tuttle, writing, “Burridge and Louderback couldn’t agree, so Burridge pulled out on November 20. Howard Tuttle joined us at our loft we rented on Lake Street.” From 1889 to 1890, Moses & Louderback placed a card in J. R. Clancy’s  stage hardware catalogue, advertising “Contractors for all stage appliances. Estimate furnished to all parts of the world,” with their offices at offices at 22 Chamber of Commerce. They also worked as subcontractors for Sosman & Landis at this time too, as work poured in from all over the country.  

In 1887 when Tuttle was brought on board, Moses recorded that “Tuttle did most of the big melodrama of ‘Tank Drama.’ Lights and shadows.” Tank shows were productions that used actual water on stage. On Dec. 25, 1887, “The Chicago Tribune” reported, “The tank drama marks the entrance of the plumber into literature and for the time being has eclipsed the carpenter in the public estimation. To see the stage turned into a big tub of water, across which boats are rowed, is enough to awaken the enthusiasm of the gallery gods who, perhaps never before in their lives showed a preference for the element in question” (page 19).

Moses’ next mention of Tuttle in his memoirs was from 1889. The two worked out west from the fall of 1889 until the spring of 1890, painting scenery in California, Oregon and Washington. Their first project was in Riverside, California. Moses wrote,  “Found Howard Tuttle in Riverside.  He had come on to help me as I had too much to do.  We worked night and day, and every evening a number of ladies would drop in from the hotel to watch us.  They were very interesting – very refined – mostly from the Eastern cities.  It was a pleasure to meet them…We had many experiences in and around Riverside, too numerous to mention in detail.  We completed the work December 30th.”

The two then headed up the coast to Tacoma, Washington, stopping by San Francisco  for several days and then Portland. Of their stay in San Francisco, Moses wrote, “Tuttle liked the city.  Had a pleasant visit with Bill Porter, artist of Tivoli Theatre.  We then went to Tacoma for several days.  Got some extra work to do, after I had Portland underway.”

By Feb. 8, 1890, Moses and Tuttle completed the scenery for the Tacoma Theatre, as well as a small project for the Arion Hall in Portland, Oregon. Heading south to Corvallis, Oregon, they painted scenery for a small hall. Of their hotel in Corvallis, Moses wrote, “One day Tuttle and I took all the candy at the table (as no one ever ate it) and gave it to the children on the street.  We found the dishes filled up again at night.” After finishing their work in Tacoma, they headed east to Spokane, Washington.

Moses, Tuttle and Loitz were credited with the scenery for the Grand Opera House in Spokane. On April 19, 1890, the “Spokane Daily Chronicle” reported, “The drop curtain and scenery for the new Spokane Grand Opera House have been completed by artists Thomas G. Moses and Howard Tuttle have returned to Chicago. Stage carpenter Joseph Wikoff and Edward Loitz, the representative of the scene painting firm Sosman & Landis of Chicago are now in charge of the stage and scenery” (page 5).  On Sept. 16, 1890, the “Spokane Falls Review” reported, The entire work on stage has been executed by Messrs. Sosman & Landis of Chicago, under the supervision of Thomas G. Moses, assisted by Howard Tuttle and Edward Loitz. The work throughout has been artistically designed and admirably drawn. The coloring, shading and tints are clearly and strongly brought out and will give a realistic effect when placed in position” (page 7).

Moses and Tuttle returned to Chicago for a short respite before heading out on the road again. In June 1890 Moses joined Tuttle in Evansville, Indiana, for another project at the Grand Opera House. This may have been one of their last projects together, as by 1891, Tuttle moved to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where he established his own studio.

On Jan. 13,  1892, Tuttle was among the scenic artists present at the organization of the American Society of Scene Painters. Keep in mind that the executive staff was Richard Marston, president; Henry E. Hoyt, Harley Merry and Ernest Albert, vice-presidents; Homer F. Emens, treasurer; and Sydney Chidley, secretary. On June 26, 1892, the “Pittsburgh Press” reported, “the objects of the society are to promote the artistic and practical efficiency of the profession and consolidate as a whole to the dignity of the profession hitherto maintained by the individual artist. Practical reforms in the conduct of professional business are anticipated” (page 7). Other members of the organization included  George Becker, Moses Bloom, Harry Byrnes, Sydney Chidley, James Fox, W. Crosbie Gill, Frank King, Richard Marston, Harley Merry, John A. Merry, Thomas G. Moses, Arthur Palmer, Seymour D. Parker, Frank Platzer, W. T. Porter, Adolf T. Reinhold, John Rettig, John W. Rough, Horace N. Smith, Orville L. Story, A. G. Volz, Harry Weed, David W. Weil.

In Milwaukee, Tuttle became associated with the Davidson Opera House. He quickly gained a reputation as Tuttle worked his way across the country. In 1893, he painted scenery for Dolan’s Opera House in Logansport, Indiana. On July 25, 1893, the “Logansport Reporter” published, “Mr. Tuttle is a scenic artist of prominence, who has done work in many of the leading houses of the country and who formerly had a studio of his own in Chicago. His headquarters at present are in Milwaukee. His work here will consist in twelve sets and a drop curtain. He is assisted by Walter Edwards.”

Over the years, Tuttle was credited with painting scenery for a variety of performance venues, including: the La Crosse Theatre (La Crosse, Wisconsin), Grand Opera House (Oshkosh, WI), Normal School (Oshkosh, Wisconsin) Opera House (Sheboygan, Wisconsin), Opera House (Portage, Wisconsin), Davidson Theatre (Milwaukee, Wisconsin), the Illinois Theatre (Rock Island, IL), Calumet Theatre (Calumet, MI), Stone’s Theatre (Flint, MI), Turner Opera House (Green Bay, Wisconsin), Odeon Theatre (Marshalltown, Iowa), Opera House (Muscatine, Iowa), Greene’s Opera House (Cedar Rapids, Iowa), Music Hall (Kansas City, Missouri), Opera House (Winona, Minnesota), and the Moline Theatre (Moline, Illinois).

On July 27, 1897, the “Northwestern” newspaper in Oshkosh, Wisconsin, reported, “Howard Tuttle of Davidson Theatre, Milwaukee, working at Oshkosh. The new scene is from the brush of Howard Tuttle, scenic artist, Davidson Theatre, Milwaukee, and will be a masterpiece when completed. Mr. Tuttle is the artist who painted the new scenery for the Normal school and the opera house curtain will be somewhat similar to the one at Normal, only on a larger scale” (page 2). By October 3,  1905, the “Rock Island Argus Report” noted that Tuttle was a scenic artist for the Chamberlain-Kindt circuit.” His reputation continued to increase throughout the country. On July 17, 1909, the “Burlington Hawk-Eye” published a lengthy article about Tuttle entitled “Artist Works Aloft” (page 7). Keep in mind that it was quite a compliment when a newspaper fully described the studio and process of one particular artist. I am including this particular article in its entirety, as it presents a wonderful snapshot of Tuttle at work in 1909.  

The article reported, “High up in the air, fifty feet above the stage of the Grand Opera House, is working quietly every day one of the most famous scenic artists in the country – Howard Tuttle, who has probably a wider acquaintance among stage folk than any other man in the profession.

It would baffle the man who is unfamiliar with the strange surroundings back of the big proscenium arch to find his way up on the long, narrow paint bridge where the artist works alone, far from every sound, and just under the roof of the stage. Through the labyrinth of scenery stacked on the floor the explorer wends a tortuous course. Tacks are frequent to avoid butting into the sharp corners of the big sets, and the stranger in a strange land keeps his eyes open, scanning the floor in the semi-darkness to save himself falling into one of the mysterious traps that are part of the stage equipment. Taking a course north, by northwest, the newspaper man is guided by Fred Croft, the property man of the theater, to the flight of winding stairs that lead aloft. There are as many crooks and turns in the stairs as there are in a Boston street. After plunging and groping for what seems an interminable distance the first board landing is reached that parallels a row of dressing rooms. Up again goes the route, with more twists and turns, and the second landing is reached. It is lighter here and but a few steps away is the paint bridge, extending across the rear of the stage and built close to the back wall.

Far down is dimly seen the floor of the stage through a maze of drops and ropes. The bridge is narrow, but it is protected by a railing, and the place is unlikely any other spot that can be thought of.

Out in the center of the bridge the scenic artist is working. The big paint frames, holding the stretches of canvas, are operated by ropes and pulleys, allowing the artist to move the scene up or down at his will. A score of pans, containing colors of vivid hues, stretch along a shelf at the back of the painter. The scenic artist is working on a landscape, whose garishness bears little resemblance to the scene as it will appear when exposed to the view of an audience seated sixty feet away. Everything is laid on a broad manner. Great splotches of color are smeared onto the canvas to be spread with wide sweeping movements of the brush. The effect at close range is crude, but the artist is taking into account the fact that the scenery is viewed at long range by the audience, and the effect is then entirely different. Every proportion is right, and the whole beauty of the scene is unfolded in the same manner as is the smaller picture hanging on the wall of a gallery.

Mr. Tuttle has been in the business for almost fifty years, but he has retained the enthusiasm of youth and his smile and greeting are just a cheery as those of a boy. He has a son who is following in the steps of the father, and the artist laughed as he told of a letter received the other day from his boy, who is working at one of the large theaters of Chicago. It was brief. and after telling of his progress the lad wound up with these words: “I am succeeding famously and, father, some day you will be working for me.”

The artist paused between his stretches of painting to clean his brushes and talked of interesting incidents of stageland and the players connected with the mysterious region behind the footlights. He has met and known intimately all of the stars of the past and present, and through this acquaintance has amassed a fund of stories.

Mr. Tuttle’s story of the discomfiture of a noted dramatic critic is worth the telling. It happened years ago with Sarah Bernhardt, the great French actress, who was to open in one of the larger cities of the country  in La Tosca. Mr. Tuttle was engaged at the time in painting in this same theatre, attended the opening night and by chance was shown to a seat next to the critic – the dean of his profession at that period. The scenic artist and the writer were intimate friends and as the curtain rose on the prologue, both awaited eagerly the advent of the famous player. Other dramatic writers were grouped down front and the theatre was packed to the very doors with fashionable assemblage. Something seemed to be lacking, however, in the performance and it was noticeable at the start that the audience was cold and indifferent. Even the entrance of the French woman, who was perhaps without peer at that time, failed to arouse the expected enthusiasm. The applause was lacking. Not a hand was given, and the curtain dropped at the end of the prologue on a silent house.

The same thing was repeated at the end of the first act, and again at the conclusion of the second and third acts.

The dramatic writer before the opening of the play had entered a discussion with his friend, the scenic artist, as to how the audience would receive the French players, holding that the lack of understanding of the foreign language on the part of the listeners would not be a bar to the appreciation of the wonderful acting of Madam Bernhardt and her support. “They will understand the art, the great intelligence of the players and will, therefore, quickly absorb the meaning of the story,” insisted the writer.

“Wait and we shall see, “returned the painter.

As the play dragged its weary length with no response from the audience the dramatic critic grew restive, and it was then that Mr. Tuttle sprang his great coup that started the man of the press.

“If this is really Bernhardt, the actress is worth $5,000 a week,” Tuttle whispered to his friend, “but if it is an understudy, she is worth but $100 a week.”

The writer looked in amazement at Tuttle and then a great light shown in his eyes. He leaned forward trembling, and said breathlessly: “Tell me what you know, for Heaven’s sake, man, do you mean that it isn’t?”

Tuttle smiled and the writer gripped his hand. “If I knew, this would be the greatest scoop of the day; you must know I will never betray you.” Just then the actress was in the midst of the greatest scene of the play. At the conclusion of her lines a pause followed with the stillness of death. Then a roar of applause burst forth that spread from row to row, the shouts of excited Frenchmen being heard above the tumult. The curtain descended and the painter started for the door, followed by the writer who hung to his coat. “Tell me what you know; I must have the truth,” implored the writer. “Don’t you see what it means?”

Tuttle turned a smiling face toward his friend and said”: “You will have to guess,” and disappeared in the crowd. The writer’s paper contained but a short review of the play that next morning, and those who saw it read, but could not understand.”

When Moses hired Tuttle in 1887, he was an ambitious young artist. At the time, Tuttle was twenty-eight years old, living in Chicago. He was married with two small children and a third on the way.  Within five years, Tuttle moved to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, established a scenic studio, became a Socialist and entered Wisconsin politics. Tuttle was not just a Socialist, but a Socialist candidate in mayoral and gubernatorial elections. Tuttle’s passions were painting and politics.  By 1910, he was even a featured speaker at the Labor Meeting in Waterloo, Iowa. On January 26, 1910, “The Courier” of Waterloo, Iowa, identified Tuttle as one of two speakers at the Labor Meeting held in Carpenter’s Hall, reporting, “Mr. Tuttle has some previous acquaintance with Waterloo people. He is an experienced scenic artist and did the inside work on the Waterloo Theatre. He has gained some political notoriety, having been a candidate for governor of Wisconsin three times on the Socialist ticket, without success, His address last night dealt with the boycott on corporations in general…he advised the working men to be on guard and prepare for a national election, when some progress might be made by the laboring classes toward gaining control of monopolies, which he declared were responsible for the present high prices of everything”.

On April 21, 1910, Tuttle was interviewed in an article in the “Oshkosh Northwestern,” entitled, “Socialism is Coming.”  It is unusual to locate the political ideologies of scenic artists beyond a simple entry in voter registration lists. The “Oshkosh Northwestern” article paints a detailed picture of Tuttle’s political views. Here is the article in its entirety:

“Howard Tuttle, the famous scenic artist and expert authority on the matter of interior theatre arrangement and design, was interviewed today by a Northwestern’ reported and he talked on the subjects of Milwaukee’s new administration; Social Democracy in general; running for office; “Appeal to Reason;” theatre decoration and various other topics. To those who enjoy Mr. Tuttle’s friendship, whatever he says is of interest. He is a man of great sincerity. His present business in Oshkosh is to go over preliminary plans with Manager J. E. Williams of the Grand Opera House for the extensive remodeling of the interior of that playhouse. Mr. Tuttle’s home and studio are at Milwaukee, but he is engaged in many of the leading cities of the country. “Milwaukee is going to get along all right,”: Mr. Tuttle said as he laughed in response to the query. “Don’t worry about that. Everything will be done for the best of this city. No, I didn’t see the headlines in Chicago papers yesterday, but I am not surprised that Chicago is interested. They will all take notice of Milwaukee.  SOCIALISM TO SPREAD“ Was I surprised at the election results? Why no. I knew that socialism was to win. And its victories are not to be confined. We’re going to spread out and gain a voice in the administration of the great American cities. We’re growing stronger here in the Fox River valley, and the time is not far off when socialism will be a direct power in Oshkosh and neighboring cities. There’s nothing to fear. Milwaukee will prove that that. “And in Chicago, in that great American city we are pushing upward, and we will soon take hold of affairs there, and God, how Chicago needs it!” continued the pioneer artist, feelingly. Twelve years ago, Mr. Tuttle became a believer in the doctrines of so-called socialism. As he has confided to his friends, his business suffered for his faith. In his own words: “When it was known that I had become a socialist, business was withheld from me. I was punished by the interests in many ways. I had to fight to live, where once I had given so much. But it is always the way. When man takes up a principal against which so many are prejudiced, he must be prepared to sacrifice much. During several of the earlier campaigns of socialism, Mr. Tuttle was put up as the candidate for mayor of Milwaukee and for governor of the states. “We were beaten at first,” he says, “but socialism was bound to win, as it has so splendidly done in Milwaukee.” WORKER’S GET NOTHING The Appeal to Reason was lauded by Mr. Tuttle. “That,” he said is the biggest little paper in America. It cost the paper $20,000 to defend itself against rascally brought to oppose it. Let me tell you, Fred Warren, the editor, was sentenced to jail for six months on a lot of trumped-up charges, and the high officials have tried hard to keep the paper out of the mails. But they could not do this. “The paper charged Theodore Roosevelt with taking part in the ‘Alton steal,’ along with Harriman, and it drove Roosevelt out of the country. It went after the supreme court, and it drove Judge Grosscup out of the country – to Africa also. Judge Grosscup – he is the man who set aside that $29,000 fine on Standard Oil company. The Socialist paper charged that Grosscup was a rascal, and he could not face the charges. Socialism is not afraid to tell the truth. When they begin to try and down the Socialist paper it had less than 300,000 circulation, and now has over 400,000. The paper is printed at Girard, Kan. It has made a first-class post office of a country in a post office there. “And the Girard postmaster, who is a figurehead, so to speak, draws a salary to which he is entitled. The real workers get nothing for building up Girard. But, do you know, it’s always that way, and we can’t avoid it. Figureheads get everything, but the actual workers get little or nothing. NO FEAR OF LAWS “Trusts don’t give a damn for laws. If they need a law, they make it. Some of the judges don’t have the slightest show if they don’t do what is wanted by those who put them where they are. Sometimes I have heard it said, ‘It’s a wonder some of our big looters and grafters haven’t stolen the White house.’ “What made the Socialists succeed in Milwaukee? The hard work of a half dozen men. A half dozen or so started the party there twelve years ago, and they shape its destinies. The Socialists are ruled by a central committee, which meets regularly. When an alderman is elected by the Socialists, he does not become independent immediately after election like a Republican or Democratic alderman. On the other hand, he is directed by the central committee to do thus or thus for public good. Refusing, he is read out by the party. That fate fell to Mayor Born of Sheboygan, who tried to play politics with Republicans and Democrats. the Socialists dropped him. “ the Milwaukeean said. “The spread of Socialism has started the corporations to consider the commission form of government. They offer that to placate the Socialists. And Mr. Tuttle went on to tell in what manner commission government is opposed to the ideals of democracy which were put into effect when the colonists in 1776 threw off the government’s kings and commissioners. Commission government would make it impossible for a young party, like the Socialists, to do anything, he said. It makes for one big political despot, he asserted. “And back of a big political power,” he said,” you will always find an industrial despot.”

Until his passing in 1925, Tuttle continued to work as a scenic artist, but his work received far less coverage. One of his last projects described in any detail was for the Wisconsin Products Exposition in 1923. He painted a panorama to encircle the main arena and exhibit space, measuring 25-feet high by 300-feet long.

Tuttle was found dead by a gunshot to the head, and his death was determined as suicide. Obituary notices were brief, with newspapers suggesting either prolonged illness or insomnia as the cause.  Six months before his passing, Tuttle and his daughter had also survived a horrific car crash.

His brief obituary appeared in papers across the country on October 5, 1925.  “The Sheboygan Press” reported “Scenic Artist of Repute Ends His Life Today. Milwaukee.- Howard Tuttle, 62, prominently known throughout the United States shot and killed himself in his apartment here today. According to the Coroner Tuttle had been ill for some time. He is survived by a son, Morris and daughter, Hazel, and both are scenic artists.”

To be continued…