Travels of a Scenic Artists and Scholar: W. F. Hamilton, scenic artist

 

William F. Hamilton, Jr. grew up in Franklin, Pennsylvania. Known as a scenic artist and inventor, Hamilton painted scenery for the Thalian Hall in Wilmington, North Carolina in both 1896 and 1899.

In 1896, the following article appeared in the Wilmington newspaper”

“Everything is now in readiness at the Oper House for the opening of the season. To use a trite expression, the new drop curtain which has just been completed by the well known scenic artist, Mr. W. F. Hamilton, of the Standard Theatre, New York, city, is “out of sight.” The new curtain is a very handsome one. The large centre scene represents the coast of Cornwall, showing the high cliffs, upon the tops of which are the homes of the fishermen and natives of this dangerous coast. Mr. Hamilton and his clever assistant, Mr. F. C. Peckham, showed a STAR reporter yesterday several superb set scenes, which they have just completed, in conjunction with the curtain, for the management of the house. The handsome old curtain, which has for many years past done excellent service, has also undergone repairs, and has thrown off its roller and will “slide up” like its companion.” Hamilton transformed the 1858 drop curtain by Russell Smith into a fly drop.

The first mention of Hamilton as a scenic artist that I have located to date was published on the June 15, 1888, “Northumberland Country Democrat” of Sunbury, Pennsylvania. The article noted, “W. F. Hamilton, of Lancaster, a scenic artist, is in Sunbury on business” (page 1). That summer, Hamilton moved to New York wehere he continued working as a scenic artist. On August 1, 1888, an article in the “Pottsville Republican” confirmed his move to New York reporting, “W. F. Hamilton, a scenic artist, of New York City, is domiciled at the Merchants’ Hotel. He is at work on a 5×5 feet lawyers card with a view of Tumbling Run in the center, which he is placed at the Court House” (page 4). As with many scenic artists of the time, Hamilton also worked as a sign painter early in his career before securing larger theatrical projects.

In 1890, his hometown newspaper, “News Herald” of Franklin, PA, noted a summer visit. On August 13, 1890, “Our Card Basket” reported, “Mrs. W. F. Hamilton, of Johnstown, and her son, W. F. Hamilton Jr., have been the guest of the lady’s brother, B. Moffett. The son is a rising young scenic artist of New York city, He left this morning for Nashus, N. H.”

Hamilton appears in the “Boston Post” two years later. On September 5, 1892, the Personal Section of the paper included, “W. F. Hamilton, the scenic artist, is again in this city, after having finished his contract placing two curtains in the Academy of Music at Pittsfield” (page 4).

Hamilton worked as a scenic artist all along the eastern seaboard at a variety of venues throughout the 1890s, including in Wilmington, North Carolina, in 1896. It was only after my visit to give a presentation about 19th century scenery in Wilmington, that I discovered the Thalian Hall’s connection to Hamilton, Thomas G. Moses, and New York Studios, the eastern affiliate of Sosman & Landis. This was almost as exiting as seeing the Russell Smith curtain from 1858, as I have never encountered scenery produced by New York Studios.

In 1896, Hamilton was associated with the Standard Theatre in New York city as both the scenic artist and stage manager for the venue. He also worked at the Star Theatre in New York. By 1899, he was listed as the scenic artist for the Columbia Theatre in Boston. That year, “The North Adams Transcript” published an article “Columbia Scenery and New Exit” (North Adams, Massachusetts, 10 Mar 1899, page 5). The article noted, “The trustees of the F.M.T.A. society awarded the contract to Hamilton to complete the work. Of Hamilton as an artist, the article continued, “He has an excellent reputation, and will provide a complete set of scenery, with drop and fireproof curtains. It is expected that some of the scenes will be more elaborate than anything the house has had.”

Although Hamilton would continue to work as a scenic artist for decades to follow, he was also a well-known inventor of theatrical effects. This skill set expanded when he established the scenic studio with Moses called Moses & Hamilton. They would develop a series of startling scenic effects for both the stage and amusement park attractions. More in that subject tomorrow.

1903 advertisement for Moses & Hamilton in Julius Cahn’s Official Theatrical Guide.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 167 – The Gong and Scottish Rite Degree Productions

Chuck Barris, host of the original “Gong Show.”

As I was watching the recent remake of the “Gong Show,” I couldn’t help but think of Scottish Rite degree productions. Over the years, I have repeatedly come across gongs for Masonic stages. Gongs on stage, gongs off stage, gongs in the balcony, a gong switch on a lighting board, and a gong button on an organ console. They all made me chuckle. I now wish that I had a picture of every single sighting. It wasn’t until this spring when I was at the Moline Scottish Rite that I finally decided to take a picture of a beautiful gong in the auditorium balcony. It was positioned near the organ.

The gong at the Moline Scottish Rite. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

What has tickled my funny bone every time is thinking about the fraternal version of the Gong Show.  A gong signaled failure or a poor performance. For me, a gong doesn’t conjure up the exotic or a magical moment. Sadly, I am an unfortunate product of the television age. Thousands of years significance in a gong destroyed by one TV show. This is similar to my Pavlovian response to certain classical songs and operas where Bugs Bunny or another Looney Tunes character pops into my mind. The “Bunny of Seville” is one example.

Scene from the Bugs Bunny cartoon, “Bunny of Seville.”

In fraternal theaters, I always envision the sound of a gong and then an imaginary hook reaching from the wings toward another amateur actor who utterly failed in his performance. The neon sign at the Santa Fe Scottish Rite that signals “Louder Slower” to the degree performers supports this scenario.

Neon sign at the Santa Fe Scottish Rite signaling actors to deliver their lines louder and slower.

Gongs have been around since 2000 BC, though many historians think that they have been around for far longer. Mystical traditions grew up around the glorious bass notes of gongs in the eastern world. The gong was slow to gain popularity in Europe and its first recorded use in western orchestral music was by Gossec in his funeral March for Mirabeau in 1791. Its use increased on the stage during the early nineteenth century. Many sought out the exotic instrument and gongs appeared in a variety of stage productions and in the music rooms of private residences. As with visual spectacle, that rolling sound transported generations of Masons to the foreign lands of degree productions.

But it wasn’t until I recently read the “Naiad Queen” script that I started to think about the significance of this particular sound, especially how it’s meaning has altered for some individuals in recent decades like myself. During the nineteenth century, a gong signaled the transformation scene. It announced a magical, or significant, moment on the stage, not just an exotic character. After the gong strikes twelve in “The Black Crook,” Hertzog is thrown into a flaming pit surrounded by howling and dancing demons.

It was the idea of a gong signaling a transition, or a transformation on stage, however, that really stuck in my mind. In “Trial by Jury,” Gilbert specified a gong to be struck, signaling the work’s concluding of a transformation scene parody. Carolyn Williams in “Gilbert Sullivan: Gender, Genre, and Parody” suggests that the allusion was a familiar one to audiences in 1875. This was the same time that degree productions started to gain popularity throughout the Northern Masonic Jurisdiction.

I thought back to the script for the three-act opera version of “The Naiad Queen; or the Revolt of the Naiads, a Romantic Operatic Spectacle in Three Acts” written by J. S. Dalrymple, Esq. Here is the link: babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.$b249955;view=1up;seq=34  The script notes the use of a gong to signal a transformation scene. The production was first performed at the Adelphi Theatre in London, with the American premiere at Burton’s Theatre (Philadelphia) during 1840. I was fascinated with the stage description.

The gong is sounded during the fifth scene of the third act. The setting opens to “A Romantic View of the Rhine” with two processionals entering the stage to form a tableau. The first processional was the Demon March. Amphibeo and demons of the Rhine march onstage, complete with conch shells and banners. The music then changes for the entrance of another processional. The Naiad Queen and Amazon warriors appear in full armor to complete the picture. Here is the stage direction after the tableau is set: “Music. Gong. The scene changes magically to fountains of real water; Naiads and Water Spirits mingle above and around, and the ethereal blue, emitted through a strong light, is thrown upon the picture.” Once again, I wished that I could travel through time to witness this spectacle in person. These extravaganzas of visual delight transported audiences to exotic and magical worlds. For many, a theatrical metamorphosis on stage seemed to defy reality.

Degree productions also incorporated the gong into their staging, once again emulating an effect popularized on the commercial stage. It was just one more example of how Masonic theatres remain living time capsules. Scottish Rite Freemasons are more than just caretakers of painted scenery collections, old costumes, ancient lighting systems and worn stage properties. They are stewards of theatre history and long-forgotten stage effects, all part of a shared cultural heritage.

Tableaux and transformation scenes appear in many Scottish Rite degree productions, but one always stands out in my mind. That is the transformation scene for the 17th degree. The stage setting includes a volcanic eruption, flowing rivers of lava, and classical buildings that collapse on stage. In this scene there is the breaking of the seven seals with gong sounding each one.

To be continued…