Travels of A Scenic Artist and Scholar: Nineteenth-Century Stage Managers at the Tabor Opera House, 1879-1901

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

The Tabor Opera House, pictured in the “Leadville Daily Herald,” 1 Jan 1881

In 1884, “Harry C. Miner’s Dramatic Directory” listed that the seating capacity for the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado, was 800. The size of stage measured 34-ft. deep by 60-ft. wide, and the proscenium opening was 17-ft. high by 23-ft wide. The original scenery employed a system of grooves on stage to hold up the painted scenes. Grooves are a mechanical contrivance in which the scenes slide back and forth. Sets of grooves were positioned into divisions, such as one, two, three and four. Where the stage was extra deep, there were sometimes five and six divisions of grooves, equally spaced. There were four divisions of grooves at the Tabor Opera House, allowing four pairs of wings and shutters to slide on and off stage, forming specific stage settings. The height from the stage to the top of the grooves was sixteen feet, with an additional 3 feet above that to the rigging loft.

This method of staging was eventually replaced with more modern arrangements in 1902, Wings and Shutters were replaced with fly scenery and box interiors, supported with braces and connected by lash lines. This more modern method was purchased and installed the Leadville Elks purchased the opera house in 1901, renaming the venue the Elks Opera House.

During the nineteenth century there were three stage managers who worked at the Tabor Opera House, each constructing wing and shutter scenery for the venue, and each shifting early scenes in grooves. The three stage managers were William S. Barber (1879-1880), Harry C. Sprague (1881-1884) and William J. Moon (1885-1901). These three men were also went by others titles, such as stage carpenter and stage mechanic. Regardless of their title, each functioned as a ruler of the realm behind the footlights.

Barber was credited with the original construction and installation of the first stock scenery collection at the Tabor Opera House in 1879. He worked with James E. Lamphere, the first scenic artist to paint the original drop curtain and ten stage settings.  W. S. Barber was listed as a stage carpenter for the Tabor Opera House in the 1880 Leadville city directory, living at 114 W. 6th. That was the only year that he was listed in a Leadville directory.

Barber and Lamphere’s contributions to the stagehouse were less than adequate and short lived. The stage was completely renovated within two years, and Harry C. Sprague was credited with the new stage arrangements. Sprague was already living in Leadville at the time. He was listed as a bill poster in the 1880 city directory and a “stageman” in the 1881 city directory. In 1880 Sprague was residing at 312 W. 6th, just down the street from Barber. The official bill poster for the Tabor Opera House that year was R. B. Brennet; there was enough work to support a few bill posters in town.

In 1881 Sprague was listed in the Leadville City Directory as “stageman” at the Tabor Opera House; Barber was no longer associated with any Leadville theater. It remains unclear if Barber and Sprague ever met while walking to their respective homes on 6th street or while working backstage at the opera house. As a bill poster in 1880, Sprague likely worked for a variety of businesses in town, so their paths may have crossed at some point but it remains unknown. Regardless, sprague likely began working backstage at the opera house in 1880, especially if he was associated with the Tabor Opera House in the 1881 directory. Sprague was still working at the opera house when James H. Cragg was brought on board as a general manager.

On May 1, 1882, J. H. Cragg became the manager at the Tabor Opera House. The following day, the “Leadville Daily Herald” announced, “J. H. Cragg has been appointed manager of the Tabor opera house, vice F. T. Osgood resigned. He began his regime last night” (2 May 1882). In 1880, F. Thomas Osgood was listed in the city directory as a teller at the Leadville Bank, as well as briefly managing the new Opera House. The news of Osgood’s replacement quickly spread throughout the region, and by May 6, 1882, the “Gunnison Daily News-Democrat” reported, “Lieutenant-Governor Tabor has appointed Charles J. Rowell his general business agent at the Tabor Opera House, J. H. Cragg becoming the new manager” (Vol. 1, No. 280). To clarify, Cragg was manager, but had nothing to do with the backstage area.

Change was in the air by summer 1882 at Both Tabor theaters. In August the building, auditorium, and stage in Leadville were undergoing the massive renovation. As the work neared completion, an article appeared in the “Leadville Daily Herald” announcing,  “Of the stage there will be a change for the better in regard to scenery, scene shifting and drop curtains. Those ridiculous hitches in scene shifting that have heretofore occurred on one or two occasions will no longer take place. An experienced stage man has been secured in the person of Mr. H. C. Sprague” (August 23, 1882). By September 23, 1882, “Leadville Daily Herald” announced, “All the seats in the Tabor Opera House are being changed in position and when the work is finished they will be much more advantageously arranged than in the past, and there will also be some standing room.” This, combined, with the raising of the roof for better acoustics was a substantial project, especially for a relatively new opera house.

Changes were also occurring in the staffing at the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver. During the summer of 1882, the house scenic artist left for greener pastures in Utah.  Setting his sights on Salt Lake City, Henry C. Tryon headed west and remained in Salt Lake City next few years, painting an entirely new stock of scenery for the Salt Lake Theatre, as well as working on other projects in the area. During the fall of 1882, Tryon was still identified as “Henry C. Tryon, Tabor Grand Opera House, Denver,” but by the spring of 1883 he was credited as the official scenic artist for the Salt Lake Theatre. Tryon’s departure from the Tabor Grand created a vacancy for another scenic artist at the venue. Enter, Henry E. Burcky.

Burcky was a previous associated with Tryon in 1881, when the two worked together at the Opera Festival in Cincinnati. This was before Tryon headed west with his little brother Spencer to paint in Denver.  When the Tryon Brothers left the Tabor Grand in 1882, Burcky filled the void left by the pair. The 1884-1885 publication of “Harry C. Miner’s Dramatic Directory” listed Burcky as the scenic artist for both of Tabor’s venues. Information for this listing would have been submitted to Miner’s Directory well in advance, sometime during 1883 when the directory was compiled for publication.

Back to the Tabor Opera House in Leadville…

As previously stated, Lamphere was credited with painting scenery for the Tabor Opera House 1879, and likely adding settings throughout 1880. He was in town long enough to meet and marry a local girl. Not all parts of stock collection were delivered prior to the opening of a venue. Pieces were added on as the season continued, based on the needs of each production.

Lamphere left Leadville about the same time that scenic artist Robert Hopkin arrived to paint the drop curtain for the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver. The stock scenery for the Tabor Grand Opera House was partly credited to Hopkin and his son in 1881.  Additional stock scenery was painted by Tryon and his younger brother Spencer Tryon. It is possible that any, or all, of the scenic artists working at the Tabor Grand scenery also painted settings for the Tabor Opera House in Leadville during the renovation, but I have yet to verify this as fact. However, the second stage manager for the Tabor Opera House (Sprague) was also an artist, and may also have painted some of the scenery for the renovated Tabor Opera House in 1882, hence only crediting Sprague with the new backstage arrangements. When Sprague left Leadville, the remainder of his career was spent as a painter, albeit in relative obscurity.

In terms of Sprague’s early work as a bill poster in Leadville. It may have been quick work to simply pay the bills upon arriving in Leadville. Many scenic artists accepted other work as bill posters, sign painters and decorative artists to supplement their income. As a bill poster in 1880, Sprague would have pasted up theatre bills and placards on walls or billboards, in addition to completing other small advertising projects that required painted signage. Interestingly, some of the oldest scenery at the Tabor Opera House is covered in bill poster patches. This is the first time that I have encountered a consistent series of scenic repairs with poster material. Whether it was done by Sprague or a successor, bill posters were a readily accessible material in a small western town, especially after a show left for its next town.  Yet, bill poster paper remains an unusual material for nineteenth-century scenery repair.

Large bill posters were used as patches on the back of some nineteenth-century scenery at the Tabor Opera House.
Patch detail.

By 1881 Sprague was listed as a “stageman” for the Tabor Opera House. “Stageman” is an odd listing for the time. I have to wonder if it was intended to be “stage man,” an abbreviation for stage manager, just as “stage carp” indicated stage carpenter.

Although Sprague was not listed in the 1882 Leadville Directory, he reappeared in the 1883 directory as a “stage manager” for the Tabor Opera House. In 1884 he was again listed as the stage manager, just now residing at 202 W. 6th. Keep in mind that “Stage manager” suggested an intimate knowledge and experience with a variety of backstage tasks that ranged from construction and painting to shifting of scenes and lighting of the stage. The nineteenth-century role of stage manager is very different from our conception of a production’s stage manager today. Nineteenth-century stage managers had a thorough and comprehensive knowledge of the art of the stage mechanism. 

Sprague was still listed as the stage manager for the Tabor Opera House in 1885, but now he had an assistant- William James Moon. “Willie” Moon was listed as the asst. stage manager for the opera house in the Leadville City Directory. Both Sprague and Moon were living at 121 E. 7th in 1885, although William J. Moon was still listed as living with his mother at 318 W. 3rd. By 1886, Sprague was no longer listed in the Leadville city directory, and by 1888 Moon was listed as the stage manager for the Tabor Opera House. I have written about Moon in a past post. For more information, visit https://drypigment.net2020/10/10/travels-of-a-scenic-artist-and-scholar-w-j-moon-stage-carpenter-and-stage-manager-at-the-tabor-opera-house/

I’ll write more about Sprague’s life and career tomorrow.

To be continued…

Travels of A Scenic Artist and Scholar: John C. Alexander, Frank R. Alexander, and the Broadway Theatre

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

John Charles Alexander (1843-1908) worked as both a stage carpenter and stage manager at the Tabor Grand Opera House in the Denver venue during the 1880s and 1890s. Some credited him as the Tabor Grand’s master mechanic. Alexander’s knowledge about stage machinery and scenic appointments was critical for other Colorado theaters I the region, especially those that became part of the Colorado Circuit (later known as the Silver Circuit). John C. Alexander and his son, Frank R. Alexander, not only worked at the Tabor Grand, but also worked at other Denver theaters, including the Broadway Theatre, Orpheum Theatre, Denver Theatre and Elitch’s Gardens. The Alexanders worked in a variety of capacities and were listed with various titles, including property man, fly man, stage carpenter, and stage manager.

John Charles Alexander

It is impossible to tell John’s story, without including that of his son, and vice versa. Even four years after his father’s passing, Frank’s story could not be told without mention of his father. On November 14, 1912, the “United Labor News” reported, Frank Alexander, stage carpenter of Elitch’s Garden, has just returned from Larimie, Wyo., where he installed a full equipment for the new theatre in that city. Frank is the son of J. C. Alexander, who built the stage of the Tabor Opera House, and is one of the best carpenters in Local No. 7 of the Stage Employes. More power to you, Frank (“United Labor Bulletin,” Vol. 8, No. 41, May 16, 1914).

John C. Alexander’s son, Frank R. Alexander (center) , working as a stage carpenter

Building was in the Alexanders’ blood.

John Charles Alexander was the son of Robert Alexander (1804-1855) and Rebecca Russell (1807-1873). Born on July 4, 1843, John Alexander grew up in Toronto Municipality of Ontario, Canada. He was the seventh of nine children born to the couple, with his siblings being Eliza (1830-1848), Agnes (1833-1921), Samuel (1834-1864), Frances “Frank” W.  (1837-1913), Robert (1838-1900), James (1839-?), Rebecca (1847-?), and Eliza Jane (1853-1909). Robert Alexander was a carpenter and four of his five sons followed him in the profession. John, Robert Jr., Frances, and James all emigrated to the United States and all entered a building profession. In 1884, brother Frank W. and John C. were listed in the Denver city directory. At the time Frank was a pattern maker for a foundry, a handy connection to have if your brother is stage mechanic, designing and building stage systems in the region. Keep in mind that stage mechanics were integral in the planning and construction of performance venues.

When John Alexander was eighteen yrs. old, he moved to neighboring York. In York he married Ann Louisa McClusky (b. 1850-1888) and by 1870 and the two were living in Chicago. Interestingly, US Federal census reports list 1865 as John’s initial year of immigration to the US. By 1872, Alexander was working in Chicago as a carpenter, likely a stage carpenter. John and Ann celebrated the birth of their first two children in Chicago: Francis R. (1870-1924). Anna Mae (1873-1954). The small family briefly returned to Toronto where their third child was born 1877, Ethelia “Etta” Rebecca (1877-1958).  By 1880 the US Federal Census listed John and Anna L. living with their three children in Buffalo, New York. Alexander was again employed as a stage carpenter. Within two years, the family moved west and was living in Denver, Colorado. The 1882 Denver City Directory listed J. C. Alexander as the stage carpenter at the Tabor Grand Opera House, residing at 266 Weston. John C.’s brother, Frank W. Alexander, was also listed in the directory, now working as a “doortender” at the Palace Theatre. John and Ann’s fourth child, John Milton Alexander, was born in Denver in 1883.

For the next five years the Alexanders moved from one Denver residence to another. Despite the series of moves, Alexander continued to work at the Tabor Grand Opera House from 1882-1889, with his title changing from that of stage carpenter to stage manager. The Alexanders’ life changed dramatically, however, in 1888 when Ann died in childbirth. At the time, she was 37 yrs. old. Her newborn daughter, Anna L. McCloskey Alexander, also passed away only a few weeks later. This must have been a devasting blow to the close-knit family.

Her obituary was placed in the Rocky Mountain News on March 22, 1888:
“Anna Louise Alexander died on the nineteenth instant, after a brief illness. She was the wife of Mr. John C. Alexander, the stage manager for the Tabor Grand opera house. In her demise a most estimable lady is lost to a large circle of friends. She was a loving and faithful wife, and her motherly ministrations extended far beyond the portals of her own household. She was always generous and charitable, and her image will ever be held dear to those who were so fortunate as to have known her. She will be sadly missed by the employes of the opera house, who were wont to gather ’round her table and partake of the good cheer and hospitality which none better than she knew how to provide. She was 37 years old at the time of her death, and had been married sixteen years. She was the mother of three promising children, the youngest of which is four years old. She could look back on her sixteen years as a wife and mother as years of joy and happiness.”

John’s son,  Frank R. Alexander, entered the theatre profession around this time and was officially listed as a property man at the Tabor Opera House in the 1889 Denver City Directory. For the next ten years, father and son often worked together at the same venue. However, between 1890 and 1891 there was a brief pause, a momentary parting the Tabor Grand. I believe that they left to work for William H. Bush during the planning and construction of his new hotel and theatre complex. Bush’s Metropole Hotel and the Broadway Theater opened in August 1890.  On January 10, 1890 the “Solid Muldoon” reported, “Col. W. H. Bush’s Broadway Theatre and Apartment House, now being erected in Denver, will not be excelled or equaled in the Western country for a decade or two to come. The building will be ready for occupancy by August 1890, and then Denver can ‘point with pride’ to the grandest and most thoroughly appointed  temple of amusement between the two oceans. The opening night should be made an ovation and benefit to Mr. Bush, whose energy and enterprise the ‘Queen City’ owes much more than so ordinary a demonstration calls for.” When it opened, Colorado newspapers proclaimed, “Good judges declare it one of the handsomest theatres in the world” (Delta Independent, 26 August, 1890, page 1). The “Delta Independent” described, “The interior finish and the furnishings are beautiful and the appointments are the most modern” (12 August 1890). The Broadway Theatre was in direct competition with the Tabor Grand. Bush and Tabor had a history.

The planning of the Tabor Opera House in Leadville began with William Bush, then owner of the Clarendon Hotel. Tabor was simply an investor. When Bush ran out of money, he asked Tabor for an additional investment. The final result was Tabor buying Bush and naming the new theatre the Tabor Opera House. Tensions increased between the two when Tabor built the Vendome Hotel in Leadville. The Vendome was a direct competition with Bush’s Clarendon Hotel.

Turn-about is fair play, and Bush funded a competing performance venue in Denver. The Metropole Hotel and Broadway Theatre complex directly competed with the Tabor Grand Opera House.  

Metropole Hotel and Broadway Theatre, Denver, Colorado.
Drop curtain painted by Thomas G. Moses for the Broadway Theatre in Denver. Denver Public Library Digital Collection.

Sparing no expense on his hotel and theatre complex, Bush brought in a band of Chicago professionals that specialized in performance venues and stage technology. Designed by Col. J. M. Wood (1841-1907), the Broadway Theatre was advertised as the first fireproof theatre in the west. Similarly, the Vendome Hotel was advertised as the first fireproof hotel in the west. I have explored the career of Wood in past posts, as well as his establishment of the architectural firm Wood & Lovell in 1891. For more information, visit: https://drypigment.net2019/01/09/tales-from-a-scenic-artist-and-scholar-part-610-theatre-architects-col-j-w-wood-and-sidney-lovell/.  By 1892, Wood was credited with having “devoted a great deal of time and study to the comfort, convenience, acoustic qualities and effect in the design and arrangements of opera houses, theaters and concert halls” (“The Bay of San Francisco,” Volume 1, 1892). Wood had repeatedly hired and worked with Sosman & Landis, specifically selecting Thomas G. Moses from the firm. The team took Denver by storm, and another link connected the Queen City with the Windy City. Although Alexander lived in Denver, he also had roots with the Chicago theatre community. It would have made sense for all involved to bring Alexander and his son onboard for the Broadway Theatre project.

Interestingly, John C. Alexander was not listed in the Denver Directory during 1890, and by 1891 he was simply listed as a bartender. This may have been a calculated listing at the time.  The John C. Alexander listed as a bartender in the 1891 Denver Directory is the same as the stage carpenter, simply based on his home address.  In the same 1891 directory, however, Frank R. Alexander was listed as the stage carpenter for the new Broadway Theatre. Whatever the reason for both Alexanders to not being associated with the Tabor Grand in 1891, both were back by 1892.

The 1892 Denver Directory listed John C. Alexander as the Tabor Grand’s a stage manager with his son as a stage carpenter, Their work for the venue was short-lived and  by 1897 both Alexanders were back at the Broadway Theatre, each working as stage carpenters. John C. Alexander became the stage manager for the Broadway Theatre in 1898. Keep in mind that the Sherman Silver Purchase Act was repealed in 1893, financially crippling Tabor and forcing him to eventually his theaters.

I have explored the history of Denver’s Broadway Theatre in past posts, as Thomas G. Moses painted the original scenery. For more information, visit https://drypigment.net2017/10/07/tales-from-a-scenic-artist-and-scholar-acquiring-the-fort-scott-scenery-collection-for-the-minnesota-masonic-heritage-center-part-231-thomas-g-moses-and-the-broadway-theatre-in-denver-color/

Drop curtain painted by Thomas G. Moses for the Broadway Theatre in Denver. Denver Public Library Digital Collection.
Drop curtain painted by Thomas G. Moses for the Broadway Theatre in Denver. Denver Public Library Digital Collection.

More about the Alexanders tomorrow.

To be continued…

Travels of A Scenic Artist and Scholar: W. J. Moon, Stage Carpenter and Stage Manager at the Tabor Opera House

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

For additional installments, go to www.drypigment.net

The Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado.

It is often difficult to identify the work of nineteenth-century stage carpenters, seldom did they sign their work. When you factor in natural disasters, building renovations and changes of ownership, the challenge increases exponentially. Last month I evaluated a collection of nineteenth-century stage settings at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado. Tucked away in the attic were dozens of wings, shutters and borders, placed there when the building was renovated over a century ago. On the back of one jungle wing was written the name of a local stage carpenter – W. J. Moon. Penciled in near the frame was “W. J. Moon stage carpenter and H. E. Burpey scenic artist, October 1890.” A bread crumb. It just takes a small bit of information to point the way.

Pencil marks noting W. J. Moon, stage carpenter, and H. E. Burpey, scenic artist, October 1890.
A jungle wing constructed by William J. Moon and painted by Henry E. Burckey for the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado, 1890. For over a century this scenic piece was stored in the attic of the opera house.

The stage carpenter was William J. Moon and the scenic artist was Henry E. Burckey. There is no question that scenic artist “H. E. Burpey” was actually scenic artist “H. E. Burckey,” as newspaper accounts place Burckey in Leadville during October 1890. Burckey also worked as the scenic artist at the Tabor Grand Opera House in Denver, Colorado. His scenic art connection to both the Tabor Opera House and Tabor Grand Opera House is noted in theatrical guides too. The earliest mention of Burckey’s role as scenic artist for the Tabor Opera House in Denver was in 1884. Although there is no indication as to when Burckey began working part-time in Leadville during 1890, he departed town on October 16. The “Herald Democrat” reported “Mr. H. E. Burcky left last evening for Denver.” Again, the jungle wings for the Tabor Opera House are also dated October 1890.

Painted detail by H. E. Burckey on a jungle wing at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado, 1890.
Painted H. E. Burckey in 1890, here is one of eight jungle wings at the Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado, 1890.
Back view of a jungle wing constructed by William J. Moon and painted by H. E. Burckey for the Tabor Opera House (Leadville) in 1890.
Back of one jungle wing. “3R” denotes this wing is placed int he third position (set of grooves), stage right.

This is the first of several posts about the Tabor Opera House’s nineteenth-century scenery collection. The stories of Moon and Burckey are quite complicated, each intersecting individual characters explored in past posts.

I am starting with the life and career of William “Willie” James Moon (1867-1920). The 100th anniversary of his passing is only eleven days away, and that was my sign to start with Moon.

“Willie” Moon was a local resident of Leadville, Colorado, moving to the area as a child. Historical records list Moon’s parents as Jasper O. Moon (1831-1880) and Charity Peterson Moon (?-1895). Born in Missouri, there is no indication of the Moons’ eastern roots or why the family moved west. However, the promise of wealth associated with mountain mining camps was often enough to uproot anyone.

The 1870 US Federal Census listed the Moons as living in Granby Township, Missouri. The household included thirty-year old farmer, Jasper, living with his wife Charity (30 yrs. old), son William J. (3 yrs. old), daughter Elva (1 yr. old) and Mary J. Peterson, Charity’s twenty-year old sister-in-law.

The 1880 census listed a 13-yrs. old William living in Leadville with his mother and uncle, John Peterson; Peterson, like Jasper, became a miner. William, Charity and John lived at 318 3rd Street, a few blocks away from the newly constructed Tabor Opera House on Harrison Avenue. The 1880 Leadville Directory listed Jasper O. Moon living next door at 316 W. 3rd; how odd.Moon spent most of his life in Leadville living very near the Tabor Opera House, only a few blocks away. While I was working in Leadville this fall, I was also living on 3rd St, just a little closer; only ½ block from the opera house.

Moon began his theatrical career as a performer before transitioning to a stage manager and stage carpenter. In 1882, W. J. Moon traveled with the Tennessee Jubilee Singers and performed throughout Colorado. It is possible that he was picked up while the troupe was on tour in the region, like running away with the circus. On Sept. 2, 1882, Moon was listed as staying with the group at the Windsor Hotel in Fort Collins, Colorado. At the time, he would have been 15 years old. Other Tennessee Jubilee Singers at the time included Lew Johnson, Harry Mannaford, Z. A. Coleman, Ed Hawkins, Josh Bell, Effie Allen, Lottie Reno and Nellie Mark (“Fort Collins Coloradoan,” 2 Sept. page 4). Moon was still performing in 1884 when he toured Kansas with the Nashville Students, performing at Painton’s Hall. By this time, he was listed as the lead tenor in the minstrel production “Old Shady am Gwing up North,” featuring southern songs and dances (Weston Herald, Girard, Kansas, 8 May 1884, page 3). In 1885, the Nashville Singers were still touring and featured “original Jubilee and Plantation Melodies, as sung by the children of bondage in their own peculiar manner in religious and social meetings and on the plantation” (“The Record-Union,” Sacramento, California, 16 July 1885, page 2). Moon played the roll of “Pete (a young pickaninny).”

It was this same year that Moon returned to Leadville and was listed twice in the city directory. “Willie” Moon was listed as the stage manager at the Opera House, residing at 121 E. 7th Street, while William J. Moon was still listed at him previous home residence – 318 W. Although “Willie” would not be listed again, William’s home residence would remain on 3rd street in the 1885, 1886 and 1887 directories.By 1889 the Leadville City Directory listed Moon as the stage manager for the Tabor Opera House. He was also listed as the stage manager for the venue in 1891 and 1892. In 1890, however, Moon was listed as the stage carpenter for the Tabor Opera House in the Leadville Directory; this matches the jungle wing scenic notation from October 1890. Keep in mind that during this period stage manager and stage carpenter were often interchangeable titles, both being responsible for the construction of scenery and management of the backstage area.

Moon worked as a stage carpenter at the Tabor Opera House for at least a dozen years. The only difference was that the 1899 Leadville City Directory listed Moon as the stage carpenter for the Weston Opera House. For a time, the Tabor Opera House was named the Weston Opera House, initially under the management of Judge Algernon S. Weston and later under the management of his widow Leticia. By 1900, the Leadville City Directory again listed Moon as the stage manager for the Tabor Opera House.The 1900 US Federal census also listed Moon’s profession as a stage carpenter. Regardless of title, Moon was still listed as living at 318 3rd, but now with a wife and two daughters. Moon married Louise Buffer (alt. spelling Bueffehr) on September 11, 1894 in Denver, Colorado. [Note: my husband and I share the same anniversary as the Moons].

Louise actually worked as a dressmaker in Leadville before marrying Moon, although I have yet to discover what drew her westward from Kansas. It may have simply been the burgeoning economy at the time. In fact, the 1894 city directory listed Miss Louise Bueffehr, dressmaker, residing at 314 East 6th street. Louise was born in Big Creek, Kansas, the daughter of two German immigrants, John and Christina Bueffehr. She grew up on a midwestern farm, one of four children born to the couple, her siblings were Anna, John and Charley.William and Louise Moon couple celebrated the birth of two children by the turn of the twentieth century, with Algin arriving in 1895 and Doris arriving in 1897. Interestingly, Doris Marguerite Moon, born Aug. 16, 1897, was baptized in 1909, and at the time her father William was listed as having “no belief.” Her baptismal records also list the spelling of Bueffehr as her mother’s maiden name.

Moon transitioned from stage carpenter to bartender shortly after the opera house changed hands. The Tabor Opera House was purchased by the Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks (B.P.O.E.) in 1901 and was renovated during 1902, necessitating new scenery as a fly loft was added to the building. The original wing and shutter scenery was simply placed in the attic and I have often wondered why is wasn’t sold or thrown out at that time. It is possible that Moon was a key individual in saving the old scenery, some of it constructed by both he and Burckey.

The 1902 Leadville Directory still listed William J. Moon as a stage carpenter, but his position soon changed. The 1903 Leadville City Directory listed, “Moon, William J., bartdr. Elks Opera House, rms. 303 Harrison av.” In 1910, Moon was still listed as a bartender in the directory, boarding at home of Julia Ross.Moon died at the relatively young age of 52 on 21 Oct. 1920 at 4:00 a.m. The cause of his death was listed as pneumonia. Moon is buried in the family plot at the Evergreen Cemetery in Leadville. His obituary was published in the “Herald Democrat” on October 27, 1920 (page 5) and in the “Carbonate Chronicle” on Nov. 1, 1920 (page 3).

Here is the obituary in its entirety:

“WILLIAM J MOON

The funeral of the late William J. Moon was held from his residence at 222 West Third Street yesterday afternoon at 2 o’clock and was attended by a large gathering of friends of the pioneer. Samuel Thomas, chaplain of the B.P.O.E. order, presided over the services which were marked by the ringing of three duets by Miss Kate McCoy and Mrs. Frank E. Brown who were accompanied on the piano by Miss Anna McLeod. The hymns were “Beautiful Isle of Somewhere,” “I’m a Pilgrim” and the “Home of the Soul.” [Note: I absolutely love “Beautiful Isle of Somewhere].

The casket was covered completely with beautiful flowers and a bouquet by a surviving daughter, Mrs. G. H. Gordon, of California.William J. Moon was born in Missouri in 1868 and during the period of his young manhood came to Leadville where he has resided ever since. He entered the Elks lodge here as one of the charter members ad in the early days was interested in a great extent in mining. When the great Tabor Opera House was operating under the management of Judge A. S. Weston Mr. Moon became stage manager of the house and served in that capacity for a period of two years.

Mr. Moon is survived by his widow, Mrs. Nellie Moon, a daughter, Mrs. C. H. Gordon of San Francisco, a sister, Mrs. J. Olds, of Basalt.The pall bearers, all of whom were close friends of Mr. Moon and fellow members of the Elks lodge, of which he was a charter member, were S. B. Crosby, Gus Ouren, Joe Mann, Alva Bless, Erwin Lockhart and George Hartung. Interment was made in the family plot at Evergreen cemetery.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 806 – New York Studios and David H. Hunt, 1912

In 1912, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “Sosman left for the south on a vacation.  My work doubles.  We are doing a lot of work for the New York Studios – not much profit in it for us, as Hunt seems to think we should be satisfied with a small profit.  I have made a number of designs for him which I am pleased to do as long as we get the work.” 

David H. Hunt pictured in the “Detroit Free Press,” 21 May 1903, page 12.

Hunt was a long-term employee at Sosman & Landis, founder of the theatrical management firm Sosman, Landis & Hunt (est. 1894), and founder of New York Studios (est. 1910). New York Studios was considered an eastern affiliate of Sosman & Landis. In 1905, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “Went to Baraboo to see Ringling Bros.  Hunt went with me.  I don’t know why, as I had to do all the talking and make the sketching for ‘The Field of the Cloth of Gold.’ We got the contract for $3,500.00.” Moses did not get along well with David H. Hunt of New Yorks Studios and periodically mentions the discord in his diary.

By 1910, tensions were high between Moses and Hunt, escalating when Joseph S. Sosman leaves on a 15-week European tour. At the time, both Moses and Hunt were left in charge of the studio, with shops in both Chicago and New York. Hunt was the company secretary and treasure, whereas Moses was responsible for the design, construction and installation of all projects. Of this time, Moses wrote, “Mr. Hunt was secretary and treasurer, and expected to run the business, but I wouldn’t allow it.  Mr. Hunt kept on the road most of the time.” After Sosman returned and assessed the studio’s state of affairs, Moses wrote, “I heard some reports as to what Hunt had reported to Sosman about my treatment towards him.  I got mad and wanted to quit.  Sosman wouldn’t listen to me.  I finally got cooled… I arrived June 25th.  Sosman had his doubts as to my coming back.” It was around this time that Hunt officially established New York Studios. Smart move, as it was beginning to appear that Chicago was not big enough for both Moses and Hunt.

The establishment of New York Studios is the beginning to the eventual demise of Sosman & Landis. Sosman steps out of the daily running of the company, leaving it to others, while investing in new business ventures such as New York Studios, managed by friend and past employee Hunt. Keep in mind that Sosman was a scenic artist; Hunt was not. Hunt was also working on many other business endeavors that distracted him from solely focusing on any one company, whether it was Sosman & Landis, Sosman, Landis & Hunt, or New York Studios projects.  Based on Moses’ description of Hunt and newspaper articles. Hunt reminds me a bit of a salesman selling any pyramid scheme, hoping for maximum returns with minimal investments; it is all based on the underlings beneath him doing the work.

Over the years, Hunt had remained a thorn in Moses’ side for many reasons, including his poor treatment of good artists; prompting many to leave the studio. The exodus of scenic artists from Sosman & Landis included Moses’ good friend, John H. Young. Young went on to dominate the Broadway scene as a well-known designer.

Hunt had started with Sosman & Landis during the early 1890s, quickly worming his way into both Sosman & Landis’ confidence. Although I have yet to find an official start date for Hunt, I estimate that his initial hiring was connected with many Columbian Exposition projects. By 1894, Hunt convinced Sosman & Landis to establish, the theatrical management firm of Sosman, Landis & Hunt. This was a secondary business venture; a company that leased theaters and founded touring companies in Cincinnati, Indianapolis and Detroit.  The firm kept Hunt busy as the primary manager for the endeavor, yet the Sosman & Landis studio staff from Chicago completed much of the necessary work. Moses’ diaries suggest that Hunt did not treat the artistic staff working for Sosman, Landis & Hunt well; scenic artists were swapped and directed to various projects like pawns on a chessboard, ready to be sacrificed at any point. Throughout this period Hunt had remained on the administrative end of the studio, always finding the public spotlight to share his great wisdom on a subject.

By 1910, Hunt also talked Sosman into investing in a new business venture – New York Studios. That year, Moses wrote, “Hunt had started a New York studio in New York City and he expected us to do a great deal of work, as he had Sosman invest a small amount.” 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. Now there were two scenic studios to consider, and only one Moses. In the 1919 Adelaide A. Hunt was still listed as president of New York Studios, with Edward Morange as Vice-President and David H. Hunt as treasurer, still supplying theatrical goods. Office locations varied from 29th to 39th to 95th Streets. Many scenic artists worked for New York Studios including John H. Young, William F. Hamilton, Victor Higgins, William Smart, Art Rider, and Al Dutheridge to name a few.

1927 New York Studios advertisement in the publication, “Scenic Artist.”

New Yorks Studios was listed as the eastern affiliate of Sosman & Landis, whereas Sosman & Landis were listed at the western offices of New York Studios. Studio stamps on the back of some designs at the University of Minnesota’s Performing Arts scenery collection list the New York Studios “Home Office” at 328 West 39th St. N.Y. There are other New York Studio designs that link designs to their  “Chicago Office.” The Chicago Office for New York Studios was located at 1022 Consumers Building, separate from the main offices of Sosman & Landis on Clinton St.

Sosman & Landis Studio and New York Studios were two very separate entities. Although they shared work and scenic artists, Moses hints that New York Studios always got more out of the relationship than Sosman & Landis, always taking advantage of the situation.

Studio stamp on the back of a design, now part of the Holak Collection in the University of Minnesota Performing Arts Archives.
New York Studios design, now part of the Holak Collection in the University of Minnesota Performing Arts Archives.
New York Studios stencil on the back of a folding wood wing purchased by Thalian Hall, Wilmington, NC.

Between 1910 and 1912, Hunt and New York Studios were repeatedly mentioned in several newspaper articles across the country. One particular article concerned an electrical apparatus that enabled one man to handle sixty-five drops. Hunt was part of a group interviewed about the innovation; again his being in the right place at the right time. Hunt was chumming around with Martin Beck (manager of the Orpheum Theatre), A. C. Carson (manager of the Denver Orpheum), and Fred W. Vincent (New York booking offices). Regardless of Moses’ complaints, Hunt was a genius at social networking and always falling in with the right crowd.

In regard to Hunt keeping company with Beck, Carson and Vincent in 1910, I am including a section of the group interview with a “Lincoln Star” reporter. On Dec. 18, 1910, the “Lincoln Star” quoted Beck, “‘I have just inspected the invention of Seth Bailey, stage manager of the Orpheum in Denver,’ said Mr. Beck. ‘He has devised an electrical appliance which makes it possible for one man to handle sixty-five drops. It operates everything from the stage curtain to the back, gives absolute fire protection and does the work of an average of twenty stagehands. One man can operate it. It looks good to me, and if further tests prove it as successful as the indications are here we will install in all the Orpheum Theatres. ‘The apparatus for handling drops, consisting of ropes and counterweights, has been the same for 200 years,’ said A. C. Carson, manager of the Denver Orpheum house. ‘Mr. Bailey has perfected, the first invention, bringing the stage mechanism up to date. It has been a field neglected by inventors.’

By 1911, newspapers reported, “Theatrical men and others in Denver have organized a $500,000 corporation to manufacture a mechanical device, which, it claimed, will reduce the number of stage hands needed in a theatre by three-fourths, at least. The new corporation is called the Bailey Fly Rail Machine Company. It is incorporated under the laws of Colorado. Seth Bailey, stage carpenter at the Denver Orpheum, is the inventor of the device. He worked on it several years before he announced that it was successful. About two months ago Martin Beck, M. Meyerfeld Jr., John W. Considine and other vaudeville managers, met in Denver and saw a demonstration of the apparatus. They appeared to be highly pleased with it. The names of A. C. Carson, manager of the Denver Orpheum; Fred W. Feldwich and Frank Bancroft appear at the prime movers in the matter of incorporation. Mr. Bancroft is an attorney. The device is operated by electricity (“Wilkes-Barre Times Leader,” 18 Feb 1911, page 11). Other than patents, the stage carpenter and company seem to have vanished into thin air, as did Hunt’s association with the endeavor.

What remains significant in terms of theatre history is that Hunt was there, part of the vaudeville managers who gathered to see Bailey’s invention. He was certainly a mover and shaker.  I will continue with David Hunt’s story tomorrow.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 471 – Stage Hands – “Theatre People You Don’t See”

Part 471: Stage Hands – “Theatre People You Don’t See”

“Stage Hands “The Chicago Tribune” (11 June 1902, Page 4)

Today’s installment is a little lengthy, but I have seldom encountered descriptions about the backstage process. It is easy to find information about the performers or artists, however, insight into the activities of a stagehand during a turn-of-the-twentieth century show is rare. Months ago I encountered an article about “Stage Hands” in “The Chicago Tribune” (11 June 1902, Page 4). It was republished across the country in 1902, including “The Boston Sunday Globe (22 June 1902, page 51).

Once again, I was astounded at the sheer number of individuals employed working in the backstage area; moving lines, lights and scenery, all at the stage manager’s cue. It’s the highly organized process from start to finish. I think that sometimes we forget that the complexity of the backstage activities over a century ago. Here is “The Chicago Tribune” article in its entirety:

“Stage Hands.

Behold now how many and what different results a little thing will accomplish. A fat man in soiled white shirt sleeves, standing just beyond the right edge of the curtain, presses three electric buttons, one after the other, with his pudgy forefinger.

Illustration from “The Chicago Tribune” (11 June 1902, Page 4)

One of the buttons rings a bell up above in the electrician’s gallery. The electrician, whose blue shirt is open at the neck — it is hot behind the scenes — throws three or four switches and all at once the auditorium lights flame out, the footlights blaze up, strip lights hanging in the scenery are lit, and bright spot lights, at each of which a man is stationed, begin to make circles of especial brilliancy in various places on the stage.

The second button pressed by the stage manager rings a bell down in the musicians’ room under the stage and a dozen hot and perspiring men stop their games of pinochle, put on their coats, and climb up the stairs which lead to the orchestra pit. For answer a red electric bulb glows on the little shelf before the stage manager and he knows that order has been obeyed.

The third signal summons all the stage carpenters to stand by the pieces of scenery to which they are assigned in readiness for the quick change at the end of the first scene.

Meanwhile, a tall youth in an evening coat that is far too long for him goes running down into the deep basements, where the supers dress, and up three or four or five flights of stairs by the dressing-rooms of the principals, wailing, “Overture! Overture!” He is the call-boy, and it is his duty to sound the warning to every actor half an hour and fifteen minutes before the performance begins and also when the orchestra begins to play the overture.  Meanwhile the actors and actresses in fashionable clothes and lacy summer costumes begin to gather in a crowd on the stage. Mingled with them are property men, clearers, grips, and carpenters, giving the last touch to some detail of the stage setting. The stage manager gives a final glance at the big clock. He notes the exact time on the blank schedule hanging on the wall before him, claps his hands, calls, “Clear the stage” and all the people you don’t see vanish into the wings.

Illustration from “The Chicago Tribune” (11 June 1902, Page 4)

But they work behind quite as hard as the actors are working before the scenes. A property man sets down a bottle of beer and two glasses in the wings, just where it can be found by the stage waiter, who will need it in five minutes. Nine stage carpenters are standing, each with a firm grasp on a certain piece of scenery. Other property men are placing a lot of furniture and made pieces in an orderly row behind the last set at the back of the stage so that they may move it all forward when the time comes without an instant’s delay. High up in the fly gallery, fifty feet above the stage, nine husky men in overalls and shirt sleeves are pulling away at a long series of big ropes that run up as high as the rigging loft and down again over pulleys to the corners of various heavy pieces of scenery. Something like the ringing loft of a big church belfry is this fly loft, with its orderly rows of huge ropes and its men pulling and straining as they raise and lower heavy canvas ceilings, walls and flies into position.

Presently an actor speaks the last line of the first scene. At the cue the stage manager presses some more electric buttons. Every light in the house, back and front, goes out for a moment and a light auxiliary curtain drops down and cuts off the stage. Behind this curtain some dim lights are turned on. But even while it is still dark the fifty men who help to make the show a success, though they are never seen or heard, have jumped into their proper places and are hard at work. One gang pulls the old scenery out of the way and piles it up against the walls of the stage in certain defined places. Others rush forward, each man carrying a certain piece of new scenery to exactly its proper spot. The clearers carry away the old properties and the property men set in place everything that is needed for the second scene. The flymen have hauled up the old stuff out of sight and let down the new, and the electrician has rearranged his spot and strip lights.

The stage manager claps his hands again, cries, “Clear the stage!” presses the buttons that turn on the lights and raises the curtain, and the second scene is on.

“We’re a little slow today,” he says, as he writes down the exact minute on his schedule — which is like a railroad time table. “It took us a minute and a half to make that change.”

Now there are some fifteen minutes to pass before either property men or stage hands will have anything to do, and they scatter to spend the leisure time in different ways.

Altogether, for the handling of an elaborate product, like “The Suburban,” fifty-five stage hands and property men are required. The stage hands are under the direct command of the stage carpenter and his assistant. They are divided into carpenters and grips and flymen, there being eleven of the first class and nine of the second. There are two property men and ten clearers, the duty of the latter being to clear away in a hurry what the property men have placed with care. Then there are an even dozen electricians who have to look after all the many different electric and calcium lights, which are used in various scenes. Add the call boy, the stage door man, and half a dozen minor positions and it is easy to count up the company of fifty-five which the stage manager has under his command.

Illustration from “The Chicago Tribune” (11 June 1902, Page 4)

Illustration from “The Chicago Tribune” (11 June 1902, Page 4)

When there comes a wait which gives stage hands a little leisure a crowd of them are likely to get together in the carpenter’s room under the stage, where a game of lotto, a first cousin of keno, or some other game is in operation. They pack the little room to suffocation and the excitement sometimes runs high, but the instant the stage manager’s warning bell sounds everything is dropped and each man gets into position without delay, for delay is the one thing which can never be forgiven in a stage hand.

On hot afternoons and nights others of the stage workmen go out into the alley about the stage door when they get a minute’s rest and get a breath of fresh air and other cooling refreshments. But always they are in sound of that warning bell.

Some rivalry exists between the property men and the stage carpenters, or at least the line between them is closely drawn.

Not for his life would a stage carpenter or grip lay his hand on any of the properties, even in an emergency, nor would a property man or clearer touch a piece of scenery, though it never were moved into place. The union rules and the pride of the profession both forbid such intermingling of functions.

Severe and unsparing critics of the speaking actors are these dumb and invisible “artists” of the stage. Let a new star go on for the first night and there will be enough biting and uncomplimentary things said about him and his work by the critics in dirty shirt sleeves who look down from the flies or stand in the entrances to make anything the newspaper may say the next morning sound like the sweetest flattery. They spare nobody. A great reputation will not cover faults to them. And as that many of them rarely if ever see a play from the front of the house. They look at bits of a thousand plays from between the wings and form their opinion from what they see.

Most of the responsibility for the stage effects rests upon the head carpenter and the property man. Every morning the stage carpenter has to make what is called a “pack” of all the different pieces of scenery. That is, he has to arrange it all in its regular order in a great pile leaning against the wall, so that the next piece wanted will always be next in the pile. On the outside of the pile stands the first piece needed in making the first change. On it in big letters are printed the words, “Keep alive,” which is stage talk for, “Don’t bury this piece under anything else.”

If there is a matinee the stage carpenter has to make a second “pack” between the afternoon and evening performances. The property man is charged with seeing that every little thing that is needed during the play is on hand and ready for instant use. Over them all reigns the stage manager. After each scene is set he casts a rapid and critical eye over it to see that everything is in exactly the right place and that carelessness has not marred any of the effects.

To be continued…