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Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 152 – The University of Minnesota Centennial Showboat

I start today’s installment with a portion of John R. Rothgeb’s quote from yesterday: “Today the ad curtain is occasionally used in revivals of melodramas so that the audience can hiss at the villain, smile at the scenery, and feed self-satisfied with the sophistication of the 1980s.”

Various entertainment venues kept this type of entertainment alive in the 1980s whether it was commercial, academic, or community theatre. It attracts audiences because it is fun to be part of a communal activity. There is something delightful about viewing this type of production where you can cheer for the hero and hiss at the villain. Think about the popularity of sporting events and being part of a community who cheers together.

The original Minnesota Centennial Showboat. Postcard from the collection of Wendy Waszut-Barrett.

Postcard depicting the interior of the original Minnesota Centennial Showboat, docked in Minneapolis. Online image.

One longstanding example and educational training ground for theatre technicians and performers was the University of Minnesota Centennial Showboat. This was an academic venue that drew in thousands of repeat audience members every summer, creating a high visibility for the theatre department in our region.

The new Minnesota Centennial Showboat, currently docked in St. Paul.

Interior of the new Minnesota Centennial Showboat, currently docked in St. Paul.

The interior in the new Minnesota Centennial Showboat, currently docked in St. Paul.

For me, the combination of painting Showboat drops, Lance Brockman’s scene painting class, and the scenery collections provided an ideal training ground. Brockman not only understood the need to preserve this particular heritage, but also its value as an instructional tool. Learning historical scenic art techniques is much more than a mere examination of the past, it is applicable to many contemporary design and paint projects.

The same painted scenes were reused for various productions. This is a production of “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” Backdrop designed by Dahl Delu and profile piece designed by Rick Polenek, each the scene designer for a showboat production.

While attending the University, I had the opportunity to replicate historical sketches, enlarge sections of these compositions onto 5’ x 5’ flats with dry pigment, and then create full-scale scenery for a production. It was an invaluable experience that taught me how to “see.” This meant understanding how designs and compositions needed to be created when viewed from a distance. It provided me with an artistic foundation, similar to any drawing class or drafting lab. It was a necessary tool in my kit of techniques. Information that I learned while designing and painting Showboat drops was applicable to eight-story billboards for Times Square in New York, a theme park in Japan, local film productions, commercial murals, and many other projects during my career.

Historical design selected by scene designer Rick Polenek for the Showboat production “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”

The U of MN Showboat also provided an opportunity to understand historical stage machinery. Where else could one study the creation and use of a roll drop? This is important knowledge as there remain many roll drops in venues scattered throughout the country. They are found in church social halls, Masonic lodges, Grange Halls, SOKOL theaters and other small public performance spaces. Their owners are often at a loss when a rope breaks or a scene is damaged.

Hands-on experience is essential in the preservation of theatrical heritage. There are theatre practitioners and scholars throughout the world who understand the necessity for this type of training, especially the exploration of past production techniques. For example, Chris Van Goethem has created a scale model of an 18^th century theatre (1:4). He understands that physically manipulating stage machinery is essential for students to understand the complexity and purpose of the equipment. Similarly, Jerome Maeckelbergh’s research with under-stage machinery at the Bourla Theatre and his scale tmodel (1:10) demonstrate the incredible sophistication of the machinery and possibilities for contemporary use.

Chris Van Goethem and his theatre model.

In many areas, however, there seems to have been a loss of knowledge; at some point many forgot how technologically advanced theatrical productions were during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, as well as the trade techniques that created these complex stage settings. Painted scenery did not simply go up and down. Brockman and many others understand the need to preserve our heritage, but their voices are often silenced. Without either the U of MN Centennial Showboat or the historical scenery collections I would not be the artist or designer that I am today. Unfortunately, the Showboat is no available for theatre students at the University of Minnesota’s Department of Theatre Arts and Dance for many reasons that I do not understand.

A wave of desolation washes over me when I contemplate the amount of scenery and skill that has disappeared since Rothgeb wrote the above passage. It is even more painful when I consider the recent loss of the Showboat and the destruction of the 1924 Thomas G. Moses collection at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center. This is one of my incentives to write everyday as I continue to explore the life and times of Thomas G. Moses. It not only provides a rich context for his work, but also reminds people of our past and a theatrical heritage that should not be forgotten.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 148 – The Rochester Art Club and John Z. Wood

Part 148: The Rochester Art Club and John Z. Wood

John Z. Wood (1846-1919) was born in England and moved to London, Ontario as a small child. The family moved again when he was eleven years old and took up permanent residence in Rochester, New York. As many young men did in the region, Wood enlisted in the Union’s 54^th Regiment during the Civil War. He returned to Rochester afterwards and began a career in art. Wood initially worked as decorative painter at Lang’s Children Carriage Factory and later as a sign painter for Fran Van Doorn.

In the late 1860s, he joined a local art club called the Goose Grease Club, attending informal gatherings at the studio of William Lockhart in the Palmer building. By the 1870s, Wood opened a private art studio at the Baker building with Lockhart. Seth C. Jones later joined their studio. During this same time he also worked for the Mensin, Rahn, and Stecher Lithographic Co., later known as Stetcher Lithographic Co.

The company was most known for its beautiful fruit crate labels and nurserymen crates. After becoming a fairly recognized artist, Wood began teaching at the Mechanics Institute in Rochester.

In 1872, the Rochester Sketch Club was organized by a group of artists that included John Z. Wood, James Hogarth Dennis (1839-1914), J. Guernsey Mitchell (1854-1921), James Somerville (1849-1905), Harvey Ellis (1852-1904), and William Lockhart (1846-1881).

Wood was the instigator, organizer and promoter of the group. Five years later, the sketch club would morph into the Rochester Art Club, with charter members: Dennis, (president), Emma E. Lampert (vice-president), John Z. Wood (treasurer), W. F. Reichenbach (secretary), Ellis, Mitchell, Lockhart, Anne H. Williams, Joseph R. Otto, E Kuichling, Julius W. Arnoldt, Libbie S. Atkinson, Helen W. Hooker, Mary G. Hooker, Sara A. Wood, Ellen L. Field and Horaio Walker. The club incorporated in 1882. Wood not only served as Treasurer (1877-1882), Vice President (1889-1891) and President (1894). He seems to be quite successful as a fine artist, also working as an instructor and advertising his classes in the Democrat and Chronicle (Rochester, NY).

Advertisement listed by John Z. Wood for art classes.

The inclusion of so many women surprised and delighted me.

1934 Newspaper recalling the Powers Gallery in Rochester, New York.

In 1874, the Rochester Academy of Art, also emerged as an offshoot of the Rochester Sketch Club. It soon received a collection of paintings purchased by Hiram Sibley in Italy. This became the core of their permanent collection. It was later displayed in the Powers Art Gallery, founded by Daniel F. Powers in 1876. This gallery also promoted and sold works by members of the Rochester Art Club.

For the educational training, a room was secured at the Rochester Savings Bank Building. This became their headquarters with a small faculty consisting of Horatio Walker (water color), James H. Dennis (oil), John Z. Wood (drawing), Harvey Ellis (composition), and Ida C. Taylor (painting). It is important to note that Ellis was primarily an architect who designed several of Rochester’s buildings and would later design in the mid-western region of the United States.

Harvey Ellis designed the Mabel Tainter in Menonomie, Wisconsin.

Harvey Ellis designed Pillsbury Hall for the University of Minnesota – Twin Cities campus.

Unfortunately, the Club soon lost the first of its resident members, Walker. His renowned as a watercolor artist soared and he left the region to accept a variety of commissions across the country. Mitchell was the next president, but also soon departed. His sculpting career lured him away to Paris where he opened a studio. Dennis became the club’s third president in 1885 and remained in the role until 1889. It is exiting to examine the convergence of personalities and talents, watching their careers part and reconnect over the decades. I am always amazed to see how frequently these early artists travelled throughout the country. Forming brief partnerships and then amicably parting for new adventures.

During the 1880s, it was the annual art exhibition and sale of pictures that established a successful course for the Rochester Art Club.

The event drew in artists from throughout the region and resulted in profits to keep their venture going. By the 1890s, the club was sending representatives to New York City to secure additional works for their annual exhibition. A series on the history of the Rochester Art Club was published in the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle during June of 1934. In 1893, Wood traveled to the Chicago World Fair with fellow artist James Somerville. Around that same time, he became a member of New York’s Salmagundi Club, the same fine art group that Moses joined in 1904. Their paths possibly crossed during the turn-of-the-century in New York as this was before Wood left the region to primarily work as a scenic artist.

In 1907, Wood began traveling throughout the country and working as a scenic artist at various theaters. He travels brought him to Winnipeg, Manitoba, Minneapolis, Minnesota, and Los Angeles, California. In 1917 he returned to Rochester and was “recognized as a scenic painter for the Masonic Temple and other theaters in the city” (Rochester Art Club history records). His work was for the new 1917 Masonic Temple building that included a theatre on the third floor. I am currently corresponding with the Club’s historian to see if this is one of the primary reasons for Wood’s return to the area.

Interior view of 1917 Masonic Temple theatre in Rochester, New York.

Only two years after his return to Rochester, Wood was reported as suffering from cardio vascular renal at the Sellwood hospital in Portland, Oregon, as reported by the Oregon Daily Journal. However, this would not be a contributing factor to his death two years later. In 1919, Wood’s name would appear in the newspaper one final time when he was involved in a motor vehicle accident. On November 13, 1919, George C. Newel caused the death of John Z. Wood, residing at No. 144 South Ave. Wood was hit by Newell’s automobile when crossing the street. The court ruled against Newell as he was driving too fast and unable to stop in time. Wood was only 72 years old.

The Rochester Art Club records that Wood was “known for his sense of humor, ability at mimicry, and telling a good story.”

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 139-Harley Merry and the Brooklyn Theatre

Both Ernest Albert and Walter Burridge worked for Harley Merry at his Brooklyn Studio. Burridge started in 1870, just prior to Merry’s involvement with the Brooklyn Theatre. Albert started in 1877, after Merry had been let go from his position at the Brooklyn Theatre.

Merry was well-known as both a performer and scenic artist in England and Scotland. His birth name was Ebenezer J. Britton, and he performed with his wife Louise M. R. Britton (1844-1914). There is some confusion about the spelling of their last name as historic records use both Britton or Brittain. Louise used the stage name of Adelaide Roselle, and also later Adele Roselle Merry. She was a fairly successful actress, having performed with many well-known personalities, including James O’Neil and William Crane. Merry first traveled to the United States in 1869, permanently moving his family by 1871. He initially worked in New Orleans and Chicago before settling in Brooklyn, New York, where he became associated with the Brooklyn Theatre and Academy of Music. He produced scenery for a variety of well-known actors and producers in New York, including Conway, Sothern and Marlowe.

Merry became known for his painted illusions and spectacular stage effects the included the 1872 production “The Son of the Night.” It was advertised as a “Grand Marine Panorama and Sea Fight between the Pirate and the Spanish Fleet, painted expressly by Harley Merry, covering 5,000 square feet of canvas” (The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Vol. 33, No. 287, pg. 1). He also provided all of the new scenery for “The Naiad Queen, or the Mysteries of the Lurleiburg,” a production that ended with “the grand transformation scene [that] designated the Silver Temple of Brilliant Plummage in the Elysium of Air Songstresses” (The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, vol. 33, No. 135, pg. 1). This design was dedicated to Conway “as a farewell souvenir” prior to Merry’s departure for London. He returned the following year and resumed both his acting and artistic career, performing as Mr. Barnaby Bibbs in the farce, “The Quiet Family.”

From 1871 until 1874, Merry designed for Conway at the Brooklyn Theatre. The company had initially performed at the Park Theatre, but early in 1870 Kingsley, Keeny and Judge McGue (who owned the property on the corner of Washington and Johnson Streets) decided to build a theatre.

The Brooklyn Theatre was designed by the architect T. M. Jackson and opened on October 2, 1871 with the comedy “Money.” We know much about the history of the theater from an article published after its fiery destruction in 1876. The Brooklyn Daily Eagle described the interior and those who contributed to the ornate structure during its 1871 opening (Dec. 7, 1876, pg. 2). Five years later, a horrific fire took the lives of 238 individuals when the scenery quickly ignited during a performance of “The Two Orphans.”

The paper recorded that “one of the pieces of canvas out of which trees and so forth are made was broken from its fastenings and hung from the flies immediately over the border lights near the center of the stage. The canvas had begun to smolder and the paint on it to crackle, and the carpenter was directed to ascend to one of the grooves and remove the dangerous object. He could barely reach it with his hand and he drew it hastily up. The rapid motion through the air of the half ignited and highly inflammable canvas, caused it to burst into flame which rapidly spread to the adjoining material, equally susceptible. All efforts to extinguish the flames were aborted, and the carpenter had to retire to save his own life.” Although the actors became aware of the fire, they continued to play their parts, hoping it would pass. This makes me wonder how many fires spontaneously occurred during performances at that time. History records that Mr. Studley, Mr. Farren and Miss Claxton went on with their parts even after flames became distinctly audible. However, sparks began to show overhead and the “unmistaken crackle of fire was heard. Then an ember dropped to the stage, and the canvas which formed the roof of the hut in which the scene was enacted burst into flames.”

Mr. Studley, Mr. Farren and Miss Claxton performing despite the flames overhead.

Miss Claxton was reported to have crawled over the heads of audience members to later escape. There were 1,200 people in the house before panic ruled and bodies became crushed in the corridors.

The charred remains of the Brooklyn Thearter after the 1876 fire.

Luckily for Merry, he was no longer painting for the venue. His position as scenic artist was terminated upon his return from London in 1874. This incident is an interesting story in itself, one that probably altered his perception of the industry, stage managers, and the artists’ need for representation. Merry brought action against the Brooklyn Theatre’s stage manager Edward F. Taylor. He was attempting to recover $5,000 in damages, stating that Taylor had procured his discharge by false representations that he made to Mrs. Conway of the Brooklyn Theatre. A February 19, 1875, article in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported, “Harley Merry, late scenic artist at the Brooklyn Theatre, has begun an action through Messrs. Carson & Hirsch, against Edward F. Taylor, stage manager for having procured his discharge by complaining to Mrs. Conway that he neglected his duties” (page 4).

I thought back to Merry’s involvement in establishing the Actors’ Order of Friendship and the American Society of Scene Painters, specifically their complaints against stage managers. Did his involvement all stem from this particular incident?

UPDATE: Since my initial posting, I have been in contact with Merry’s descendants. Here is a wonderful article about the the Merry’s stage name:

https://heritagefound.com/tag/http-heritagefound-com-harley-merry-lousia-rowe-merry-article-ancestors-with-multiple-names-a-case-study-of-an-19th-century-theatrical-family/

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 129 – The Düsseldorf School and Scenic Art

The artistic seeds from the Düsseldorf School found fertile ground in the magical landscapes of the Hudson River Valley movement. Artworks associated with American Romanticism also appeared on the stage as theatrical settings. For Freemasonry, foreign lands rife with mythology and mysticism were perfect compositions to accompany their newly formed degree productions during the latter part of the nineteenth century. Exotic compositions romantically rendered by scenic artists for the stage must have been breathtaking for both fraternal and commercial audiences. Unlike fine art pieces, their theatrical imitations could be backlit. Radiant sunsets and spectacular thunderstorms would bring the compositions to life. Throw in a few performers and – voila – the audience was transported to another world!

It was the works of Thomas Cole, Albert Bierstadt, John Frederick Kensett, David Johnson, William Stanley Haseltine, Sanford Robinson Gillford, Jasper Francis Cropsey, Jervis McEntee, Thomas Moran, Samuel Coleman, Worthington Whittredge and many other American artists who greatly influenced the aesthetic for popular entertainment. Foreign scenes rendered with this romantic aesthetic were especially well received on the fraternal stage. One second-generation Hudson River School artist, Frederick Edwin Church (1826-1900) sought new subject matter and traveled to Nova Scotia, Ecuador, Mexico, Europe, North Africa, the Near East and Greece. His works were especially significant in the development of degree productions. Church’s compositions, like those of his instructor Thomas Cole, were a source of opulent light and life in foreign composition that gave many degrees a theatrical soul.

Sailing to Greece in 1869, Church captured images of the Parthenon, a structure that he called “the culmination of the genius of man in architecture.”

Frederick Edwin Church, The Parthenon, 1871.

Painted detail. Frederick Edwin Church, The Parthenon, 1871.

In looking at his work, I was reminded of a Scottish Rite setting for the fifteenth degree that depicted the Ruins of the Temple. Church’s renditions of the Parthenon and other ancient structures glowed under the radiant embers of sunset. His artworks may have been inspirational for many scenic artists who painted Scottish Rite drops, such as those created at Sosman & Landis studio.

Austin Scottish Rite. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2016.

Painted detail. Austin Scottish Rite. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2016.

Scenic artists frequently transferred the work of others to the stage, a practice that has continued in our industry. Compositions from David Roberts’ (1796-1864) early nineteenth-century travels to the Holy Land appeared on both commercial and fraternal stages across the country.

David Roberts, The Forum, 1835. Manchester City Galleries.

David Roberts, The Ruins of Memnomium, 1855.

I have often documented images of landscapes, temples and other Egyptian ruins by Roberts that were repurposed for Scottish Rite degree work. However, it was the addition of the Düsseldorf and Hudson River School stylistic approach that brought his settings to life on the stage.

I keep returning to some of the same Scottish Rite scenery collections where I believe that Strong’s work remains visible. The “returning” is like looking for my car keys and knowing that I set them on a table, even though I have not laid eyes on them yet. You can see the stylistic rendition of one particular artist, but just need to figure out which one. Like the seascape, I believe the temple ruins settings were primarily painted by Strong. It was the painting of rocky outcrops and turbulent seas that made me recall 3^rd degree production settings. It was the lighting and placement of the crumbling columns that made me think of pairing Church’s paintings with Strong’s technique.

Frederick Edwin Church, Broken Column, Parthenon, 1869. Oil on board.

Possibly the work of David Austin Strong for the Austin Scottish Rite Temple Ruins setting. Photograph of painted detail by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2016.

This is similar to looking at someone’s handwriting and trying to identify their unique “S,” “I,” “E” or “Y.” If it all looks like chicken scratch, then you start looking for specific words to decipher, before letters. For the stage, you identify the movement, then the artist, and finally the composition. There are stoplights all along the way, clearly visible from a distance if you just step back. You just have to observant and see them approaching before you run the red light.

Strong painted some of the earliest fraternal scenery for Sosman & Landis when they were first producing Southern Jurisdiction installations. He was given most of the Masonic projects because he was a Mason. We know this from Moses’ typed manuscript, as he worked in the same studio with Strong when the projects were assigned to the artists. Strong had been a Freemason since 1852 and Chicago Scottish Rite Mason since 1876. By 1900, Strong was an old hand at both ritual and degree settings.

Painted detail. Pasadena Scottish Rite. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2016.

Although the original theaters where his drops first hung are long gone, many of the painted drops are still in use. They were resold to other Valleys and still hang above these stages. Original scenery collections for Guthrie, South McAlester, and Little Rock currently reside in their second homes at Austin, Yankton, and Pasadena. These are just three examples of dozens that have served double duty during their lifetime, many of which are still available to examine and document.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 128 – The Düsseldorf School and David A. Strong

When I stumbled across the newspaper article where Walter Burridge commented on David A. Strong being the “only survivor of the Düsseldorf School,” I started to wonder what other scenic artists from his era might have been associated with the group. Burridge’s comment was made in 1892, and although the movement was not over, what was considered its “golden age” had certainly passed. I wanted to see if I could find some connections between the Strong’s painted scenes for the theatre and artists from the Düsseldorf movement. As I studied hundreds of works, numerous stage settings came to mind, especially for Scottish Rite degree productions. The rise of this movement occurring during the early development of Masonic degree productions appeared to be a perfect pairing.

The Düsseldorf School referred to a group of painters who either taught or studied at the Düsseldorf Academy (now Düsseldorf State Academy of Art). An extension of the German Romantic movement, it had a significant influence on nineteenth century landscape painting from the 1830s through the 1860s. The artists’ works were characterized by dramatically lit landscapes, often with historical subjects or allegorical stories. What a wonderful foundation for Masonic degree productions and the artists that created the stage settings!

The focal point of their compositions often fell in the middle ground with dark framing masses placed at the sides, using a realistic and detailed treatment for the forms. Roads, trails, streams, and other visual paths also drew one into the composition. I immediately recalled the forest compositions, the Road to Jerusalem, and the bridge scenes. As on the commercial stage, this was a popular method used in many theatrical settings.

Those associated with the Düsseldorf School also supported plein air painting, where you leave the four walls of your studio and work from nature. This remained a continued practice for many artists, including Thomas G. Moses and his contemporaries. I thought back to his numerous sketching trips where he sat in meadows, rocky mountain landscapes, and beside babbling brooks, to not only capture the beauty of nature for his future fine art works, but also record these same subjects for his future stage compositions. Moses’ trips to the Catskills, Colorado, New Mexico, California, Canadian Rockies, and many other picturesque locations were all incorporated into his small-scale and large-scale artworks.

When the Düsseldorf School was under the direction of Friedrich Wilhelm Schadow (1789-1862) from 1826-1859, many American painters flocked to the school during this time. The methods taught there were spread to many other academies throughout Germany and other countries. Those connected to this artistic movement would also have a significant influence on the later Hudson River School artists of the United States. For more information about this school within an international context from romanticism to impressionism, please see “The Düsseldorf School of painting and Its International Influence 1819-1918” (Bettina Baumgärtel, Editor, 2012).

One example of the Düsseldorf School produced by Andreas Achenbach.

In looking back at some of the Scottish Rite compositions, such as the rocky seacoast, they are extremely reminiscent of both the Düsseldorf and Hudson River artists. The compositions remain basically the same, but the painting of the scene by the same hand at the Austin Scottish Rite, Fargo Scottish Rite, Salina Scottish Rite, Winona Scottish Rite and some others are truly unique. I believe that they are all the work of Strong.

Fargo Scottish Rite. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2005.

Painted detail. Fargo Scottish Rite. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2005.

There is a distinct departure from this “Düsseldorf approach” post-1911 as depicted in the setting for the Grand Forks Scottish Rite.

Painted detail. Grand Forks Scottish Rite. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2013.

The Austin (original Guthrie scenery 1900), Salina (1901), Fargo (1903), and Winona (1909) settings have what Burridge suggested of Strong’s work as the only survivor of the Düsseldorf school with “the quality of opaqueness peculiar to his school.” I believe that the “opaqueness” referred to is the dark framing masses that make the middle for he composition glow, especially effective in the rocky seascapes. There is an underlying depth and rich quality to the masses. When compared with similar compositions across the country manufactured by Sosman & Landis studio artists after Strong’s passing, there is a much more even distribution of values throughout the seascape, even on the rocky shores.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 120 – Jevne & Almini

Drapery painting for the theater has a long tradition dating back centuries. Many of the earliest examples depict the same techniques practiced by early-twentieth century artists. It is part of a painting tradition that creates a composition to be viewed from a distance. The three-color painting techniques described in the past two installments to depict drapery for the stage were not only used in eighteenth century painted curtains and scenery for court theaters, but also in ceiling frescoes. Murals placed high above used the same techniques that early-twentieth century scenic artists also would produce for the stage. There remained the separation of color and value that allowed the eye to complete the illusion, making these painted compositions extremely successful when viewed from a distance.

Schloss Roseneau ceiling mural, Austria. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2016.

Yankton, South Dakota, Scottish Rite Front Curtain. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2014.

Painted detail from Yankton, South Dakota, Scottish Rite Front Curtain. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2014.

The similarities were not coincidental as many scenic artists found early work and training in fresco studios. As I began compiling a database on North American scenic artists this past fall, I repeatedly encountered nineteenth century scenic artists who began their careers at fresco studios. I had started explored the connection between theatre decorators and scenic artists while touring Europe last year; large-scale paintings intended to be viewed from a distance followed many of the same rules that scenic artists used in terms of value and technique. One decorating studio that provided a start for many nineteenth century scenic artists was the Chicago-based firm of Jevne & Almini. Founded by Peter Magnus Almini (1825-1890) and Otto Jevne (1823-1905) in 1853 many theatre artists and recent immigrants found work in their studio.

Jevne was born near Lillehammer, Norway, and learned the trade there as a fresco painter. He had a variety of skills in both stained glass and fresco work. In 1872, he applied for a patent concerning the improvement in lath-and-plaster walls and ceilings. The invention related to a novel form of wooden lath and “the combination therewith of plaster in such a manner that the wall or ceiling may be made of much thinner and lighter, and at he same time have a firmer texture and be less liable to exhibit the lines or strains caused by lath over time in common walls and ceilings” (US Patent 124,138).

Peter M. Almini, pictured in “The History of Swedes in Illinois.” Photo downloaded from internet, 2017.

Almini was born in Linderås, Småland, Sweden, and learned his painter’s trade in Eksjö, working his trade in Russia and Finland. For six years, Almini lived in Stockholm and was the assistant superintendent in the decorating of the royal palace.

The two immigrated to the United States around during the early 1850s. What they created for many public spaces, Americans gazed at in wonder. In I. D. Guyer’s 1862,“History of Chicago; Its Commercial and Manufacturing Interests and Industry; Together with Sketches of Manufacturers and Men Who Have Most Contributed to Its Prosperity and Advancement with Glances at Some of the Best Hotels; also the Principal Railroads which Center in Chicago,” the firm of Jevne & Almini is highlighted in the chapter “Interior Decorations.” The publication states that Jevne and Almini had “inculcated and infused a higher level of Fresco Painting” in the city since 1853. The firm is credited with decorating the Crosby Opera House, the Sherman House, the Chicago Chamber of Commerce, Trinity Church, First Presbyterian, Wabash Avenue Methodist Church, and many State Capitol buildings that included Georgia, Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, and Wisconsin. They also were involved in the decoration of many early Masonic Halls, including those in the American Express Building.

Jevne & Amini were not simply known for their plaster innovations and decorative painting skills. The two were also quite infamous as publishers, printing a journal devoted to art and architecture titled “Chicago Illustrated.”

In 1865, Jevne & Almini joined with Louis Kurtz to form the Chicago Lithographing Co. Kurtz drew the prints for one of the company’s portfolios, titled “Chicago Illustrated.” Their portfolios are some of visual records depicting life in this bustling city before the fire of 1871. They had a winning talent for not only printing descriptive lithography of landscapes, architecture and cityscapes, but also printed letterheads, cards, bonds, and checks.

Kurtz (born Ludovicus Ferdinandus Josephus Kurtz von Goldenstein) had previously gained recognition in Milwaukee as a scenic artist at his father’s German-language theatre. Moving to Chicago in 1864, he produced some of the stage designs for McVicker’s Theatre and Crosby’s Opera House.

Crosby’s Opera House. Print by Jevne & Almini, published by Chicago Lithographing Co.

It was his work at Crosby’s that introduced him to Jevne and Almini as they had decorated the building. This trio later added Otto Knirsch and Edward Carqueville to their ranks at Chicago Lithographing Co. Knirsch and Carqueville had previously worked at the Edward Mendel and Currier & Ives firms.

Many visual artists for the theatre found their initial vocation as illustrators, draftsmen, and decorators. Jevne & Almini was the perfect firm to expose artists to a variety projects and unique skill sets. As previously discussed, scenic artists often worked for a variety of venues during the nineteenth century, not just the theatre. They found work wherever they travelled whether it was illustration, drafting, sign painting, interior decoration, or stage scenery. Additionally, Jevne & Almini advertised as “dealers in artists’ and painters’ materials, oil paintings, steel engravings, chromo lithographs, &c.”

Note advertisement at bottom of page for Jevne & Almini.

They are credited with establishing the first art gallery in Chicago. This would be the forerunner to the Academy of Fine Arts (1879-1882), later the Art Institute of Chicago.

After the 1871 fire, Jevne and Almini separated, each going their own way and founding new companies: Otto Jevne & Co., 226 E. Washington Street and P. M. Almini & Co., 344 State Street. Whether together or apart, their contributions as two of the leading figures in Chicago’s art scene and businessmen paved the road for many future immigrants working in the city. Of special note is the assistance that Almini provided to fellow artists as a member of the Academy of Design and vice-president of the Master-Painters and Decorator’s Association of Chicago and the treasurer of the National Association of Painters and Decorators when they were founded. As many other artists, he studied ancient and modern art, always sketching for study and leisure. He was also one of the charter members of the Svea Society, organized in 1857. Interestingly, Almini also became a Mason, belonging to both the Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite and the Ancient Arabic Order of the Noble Mystic Shrine.

To be continued…

Tales from a Scenic Artist and Scholar. Part 103 – The Importance of Anatomical Studies in Scenic Art

Over the years, I have encountered painted compositions that just made me giggle and occasionally laugh out loud due to the poor quality. The captions could read: “Good enough for who its for,” “Just get it out the door,” or “Done is good.” There are obvious compositions that were painted in a rush without much consideration to the quality. Maybe the drop was for an irksome client, one who never paid his bills. Every collection tells a story through the application of paint and individual brush strokes. During long hours, I find myself creating background stories for every painted composition. This humors me and helps me get through each evaluation or restoration project.

The subject that has brought me the most humor over the years is figure painting and anatomical anomalies. These are never intentional and often a direct result of inexperience or lack of training at any art academy by the artist. The most common occurrence of oddly shaped figures appears on the small drops painted for the 17th degree Vision scene (Scottish Rite). The Winona collection that always comes to mind with a woman holding the scales of justice. Her breasts are too high, her hand is too big, and her hair defies gravity. Moline has the equivalent to this poorly drawn figure. There, three figures are painted as décor on a city wall.

Winona Masonic theater, Scottish Rite Vision Scene for the 17th degree. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2010.

I believe that the composition was incorrectly drawn; the practical opening in the center had been created too small. When is was time to cut that practical opening someone notice that it would be too short for anyone to enter or exit. Unfortunately the figure above the opening had already been painted. The solution was to cut off the feet and repaint them at kneecap level.

Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral. Gate scene, 15th degree. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

Cut opening in City Gate scene. Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral, 1930. Note overall proportion of figure and length of legs. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

You can still see the redrawing on the stage right figure too. This drawing was also altered – but before final painting.

Notice the size of the head in relation to the body. Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

Charcoal drawing showing original placement of feet. Moline Scottish Rite Cathedral, 1930. Photograph by Wendy Waszut-Barrett, 2017.

Now I might make fun of the poorly drawn figures on historic backdrops, but I do so with a deep and personal understanding of the necessary skill required to successfully paint people. I can draw figures, sometimes even well. Other times I question my artistic ability. Usually, I chalk this up to “artistic angst” and part of the entire painting process: questioning one’s own ability and talent. I always plod along after recognizing this as a step that I always encounter in every design or painting. It is the opposite of the “Ah Ha” moment, but valuable nonetheless.

To be continued…

Historical Excerpt – Scenic Art Training

I have to break from my studies to share a fabulous quote from 1927. This is an excerpt from an article on Gates and Morange:

“It is encouraging to know that of the hundred of unschooled novices cluttering the stage with mediocre and indifferent results, a few arrive at a realization of the limitations of their unschooled efforts and awake to the fact that there is no easy way or “royal road” to escape the hard work and drudgery that a substantial knowledge of art and ability to create requires. Those few progress when they realize on what foundation the scenic artist built, whose work has stood the test of time and whose fame has endured.”

“The Scenic Artist” Volume 1, No. 8, December 1927, page 8.

Painting Arms and Hands

“For these, the variety of tints is less, though their volume is greater than in the palette of the face. The management is much the same; it demands only greater boldness in the execution and, in general, a somewhat heavier impaste of color, but not to excess. The local color of the arms and hands as well as the breast should be in harmony with that of the head, so that a brunette should not have those of a blond, nor a blond those of a brunette.”

From Frank Atkinson “Scene Painting and Bulletin Art” (1916, page 58)

For a little humor this morning: Here are some examples that stress the importance of figure drawing or the scenic artist. Pain cannot fix poor drawing or anatomy that is not in scale with the rest of the figure. One more example of why I say, “Just because it’s old, doesn’t mean it’s perfect.”

wsrt-2014-day-3-vision-with-justice-detail-2

Scenic Art Training

“No words can tell the artist exactly what colours he shold use, for everything depends on the mixture of colours. The best plan for learning this part of the work is to get an old piece of scenery and try to copy it. At the same time the learner should make a note of the colours that have been used to produce such and effect. The artist must remember the effect he has to produce must not be that which he sees himself, bt that which the scenery will present when hung up and shown by artificial lights.”

Excerpt from Van Dyke Browne’s “Secrets of Scene Painting and Stage Effects” (1900, page 17)

I was trained how to painted by copying both small-scale renderings (scenic designs), fine art pieces, and extant scenery. This was the method taught by Prof. Emeritus Lance Brockman at the University of Minnesota. Unfortunately, this is no longer a priority or critical aspect of the program. For me, it was crucial as a scenic artist to understand both rendering techniques (small-scale) and scenic art techniques (large-scale). The last drop that I painted for the University of Minnesota just a few years back was to replicate a historical rendering in the scenery collection database. Here is a link for this site https://umedia.lib.umn.edu/scenicsearch

Examples below are the original sketch and my interpretation on a 12′ x 18′ scale. I used premix, not dry pigment.

Color Rendering from Scenery Collection at the University of Minnesota