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The Centennial Year of 1876 found Thomas G. Moses busy with work. By the spring he was known as a decorator of fine homes. In July he had even received the contract to do the decoration on Pearl Street’s big arch. While completing this project, Moses met a Frenchman named Wardus who was decorating St. James Catholic Church and desperately needed and artist. Moses went to work for him, taking charge of the whole job. They painted the Stations of the Cross, the Christian Martyrs and the Apostles, all painted on canvas and then mounted on the walls.

Moses realized that he really needed a good figure painter for the scenes. They advertised in both the Grand Rapids papers and New York Herald. After receiving numerous responses, they first selected Tom Brown, an Englishman from New York. He was hired as they liked the samples of his work. Brown needed an assistant, so they secured some local talent, a young man by the name of John H. Young. Moses wrote, “We three, the same age, roomed and chummed together and we had a fine time. And, as I remember, we did some pretty good work. At any rate, this job secured another big church at Jackson, Michigan. Around Christmas found us in that railroad town, busy as bees.” Wardus began marketing the three painters as the “Three young Roman Artists.” Moses noted, “We didn’t look it – we were all quartered at a cheap hotel and we met a great many young people.”

It was nearly a year later before they completed the church project. Unfortunately, Wardus decided to skip town two days before they realized it. Moses recalled his “leaving us three without a dollar, owing us several weeks salary.” I was always intrigued with Moses’ initial meeting with John H. Young as they sporadically worked together over the years. Young’s destiny, however, was designing and painting for Broadway.

John Hendricks Young was born in Grand Rapids, Michigan in 1858 and began his artistic career in fresco painting. His experience with scenic art and design began in 1880 and continued until his passing in 1944. In 1880, he married Kate Bacon of Flint, Michigan, daughter of the Washington A. Bacon. At first they lived on West Montcalm Street in Detroit. Only a year later in 1881, Young filed for bankruptcy in the courts of Detroit, Michigan.

Moses and Young worked together again at Sosman and Landis beginning in 1882. During this time, they took many sketching trips that often included two other artists Hardesty Maratta (mentioned yesterday) and Ed Morange (of Gates & Morange Studio). All travelled across the country from West Virginia to the Rocky Mountains, including Pike’s Peak, Denver, and Breckenridge.

Young and his wife moved to No. 464 Fourth Avenue during 1883 (Detroit Free Press, Dec. 16 1883, page 15). For the next two years, he would work between Detroit and New York. It was at this point that his career really began to soar. By 1894, Young was noted as “the ingenious and artistic scene painter” for “On the Bowery” by R. N. Stephens that premiered in Detroit at the Whitney Opera House. Young painted a beautiful rendition of the Brooklyn Bridge.

In 1895 Young designed and painted “Pawn Ticket 210” by David Belasco of the Broadway Theatre in New York where the artistic talents of Young were celebrated. The review was posted in the Detroit Free Press on April 9, page 5.

In 1896, Young designed and painted the “picturesque scenery” for Davis & Keogh’s production of Scott Marble’s new comedy “The Sidewalks of New York,” playing at the Lyceum Theatre in Detroit. It depicted “familiar localities, reproduced from photographs of the actual buildings and views by the hand of artist” (Detroit Free Press December 6, 1896, page 19). The article goes onto describe his contribution, “In the second act the New York Herald building is shown in accurate detail when enormous presses are at work, and the editorial staff is in active operation. The third act is laid in Brooklyn. This scene represents an old distillery and a shot tower by the East river.” Later newspaper reviews commented on Young’s “originality of conception and boldness, vigor, and expression of action in execution.”

Young eventually moved to New York where he became quite successful and always busy. There, he designed over 70 shows for Broadway, including some impressive original productions such as “Babes in Toyland” (1903), “Forty-five minutes from Broadway” (1906), “Little Nemo” (1908), “Higgledy-Piggledy” (1905), “Ziegfield Follies” (1907,1908, and 1913) “Broadway to Paris” (1912), “Robinson Crusoe, Jr.” (1907, 1908, 1916), and “Sinbad” (1919). His information can be found in the Internet Broadway database https://www.ibdb.com/

Early on in his New York career during 1897, Young, Harley Merry, Walter Burridge, Richard Marston, and Homer Emens produced the scenery for Margaret Mather’s production of “Cymbeline.”

An article in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle (Sept. 28, page 7) commented that the group was recognized as the foremost scene painters of their time. The artists are not mere grabbers after striking effects by cheap and easy means, and that in this instance they have presented a picture of the first century which is well worth seeing.” Meeting up again in 1900 Moses and Young designed and painted scenes for “Quo Vadis.” While working together in New York, Moses and Young continued their sketching trips, now adding Harry A. Vincent to their group.

It was in 1905 that Moses and Young worked on their last project together. They worked on old mill scenery (the tunnel of love ride) at Luna Park for Ed Thompson; Young did all the properties and papier-mâché work. Young isn’t mentioned again in Moses’ diaries until 1922 when he is reminiscing.

There is very little insight into what Young was like or his personality. The only small tidbit gleaned of Young’s life outside of the theater was his flower garden. Moses fondly commented on Young’s flower garden as “a hodgepodge mixture of growing things.” He remembers that as a joke, Young had bought a lot of seeds that had been accidentally mixed.

To be continued…

In December of 1875, Thomas G. Moses found himself “out of work and very little money on hand.” He finally secured a job as a train boy, commonly called a “Butcher.”

The only reference to the term “train boy” and “butcher” that I have encountered to date is in an 1884 issue of the “American machinist” where author Sam Rarus published an article titled “Some Small Explosions.” He wrote, “Our butcher (train boy) was one of these irrepressible youths who always pushed themselves to the front when anything unusual is going on, and he had got up beside me in the cab, and was reporting progress on the passengers.” Huh. Sounds like Moses at this point in his life.

Moses worked on the run from Grand Rapids, Michigan to St. Joseph. This was a new experience for Moses and he wrote, “I rather enjoyed it.” When traveling north, the train would stop at the small town of Bangor, Michigan. There, the owner of the lunchrooms exchanged free meals for Moses advising the passengers to go there. He even “peddled bills announcing the fact of ‘The best lunch room on the road.’” Moses recalled that he “must have been hungry and ate too much” as the gentlemen explained that he could no longer keep his agreement and that he would now have to purchase his meals like the rest of the train crew.

We get a little insight into Moses’ character when he explained his next course of action. He wrote, “The next day before leaving St. Joe, I laid in a stock of sandwiches, pies, doughnuts and a big coffee pot with tin cups and spoons, a small oil stove in the baggage room made the coffee. Within a half hour of Bangor, I had everyone on the train satisfied. Even the train crew. Instead of the usual two-dozen passengers getting off, there were three. When the owner of the lunchroom heard of it, he rushed to see me. There was no chance – I kept it up for a week. He paid me for working for him besides feeding me.”

Although Moses commented that he “had a great many exciting incident during my train boy experience,” it came time to return to the theater. His work on the train had left him well-traveled and well-fed, but his artistic soul was suffering. Working as a train boy was no different than any other service job that he could get near Sterling. He had promised Ella that he would return to marry her and in order to do that he needed to make a good living and a name for himself.

While waiting for one train to depart, he had extra time to stroll around town and found the stage door of the Powers Theatre. Moses wrote, “I went in and found an artist at work on the paint frame. I called up for permission to go up. I found that I knew the artist – He was from Chicago. He had an Odd Fellow Hall to decorate and needed help. I agreed to quit my job within a week and help him out. I did the thing I thought was best and Christmas found me very busy on all kinds of decoration.”

Power’s Opera House in Grand Rapids, Michigan opened on May 12, 1874. The Powers’ Opera House Block provided entertainment from 1874 until 1979 when it was demolished. Here is the timeline: Powers’ Opera House (1874), Powers’ Grand Opera House (1887), Powers’ Theatre (1902), Foto News (1944), Midtown Theatre (1948–1972), Civic Theatre (Under Renovation 1975–1977), Demolished (Jan 1979). The website: Powers Behind Grand Rapids is a lovely source of information and picture. Here is the link: https://powersbehindgr.wordpress.com/powers-theatre/

The planning and construction of this venue is of note. In 1873 construction began. The building was designed by architect Graham of Chicago and modeled after Hooley’s Opera House (Chicago). On May 12, 1874 the grand opening celebration included Edwin Booth’s niece, Blance DeBar of McVicker’s Theatrical Company (Chicago). Six years later in 1880, William T. Powers organized the Grand Rapids Electric Light & Power Company. Obviously, he installed electric lighting in his opera house. A massive renovation of the space occurred from April-August, 1883. The theatre floor was lowered to add a third balcony gallery designed by architect Col. James M. Wood of Chicago. By September 3, the 1883–84 Season commenced in Power’ New Opera House, now on the ground floor.

To be continued…

In 1875, Thomas G. Moses sought employment at the decorating firm of William Wright & Co. Arriving in Detroit he walked from the train depot to a theater construction site and inquired about a job. Mr. Wright put Moses to work on the spot as he had worked for this company before when work was slow at the P.M. Almini & Co in Chicago. The two decorating firms shared similar beginnings, although the founders began in different countries.

William Wright was born in the County of Norfolk, England, on November 12, 1833, and educated as a painter and decorator at Cambridge. Traveling to London in 1854 he completed his artistic studies and began his career as an interior decorator. In 1857 Wright immigrated to America in 1857, arriving in Detroit on the steamer, “City of Concord.” There, he opened up a shop and began advertising as a “painter, interior decorator and paperhanger.” He soon became associated with another decorating firm (Laible, Wright & Hopkins), accepting even larger commissions. This relationship lasted for five years until Wright purchased the second company, then adding William Reid as his partner. This was when he formed “William Wright & Company.”

William Wright & Co. was part of a vibrant art community in Detroit and also created a fine art gallery in 1868 that was free to all visitors. This was a similar to what Almini & Jevne offered in Chicago about the same time. The Detroit Free Press on Nov. 24, 1868 elaborated on the “Enterprising Business House” of William Wright & Co.

It advertised “a great many new paintings, chromos in oil and watercolors, and fine English engravings have been added, besides numerous articles in the way of ornamental and fancy goods, Swiss carved good, artists’ materials, etc. Similar to Jevne & Almini in Chicago, William Wright & Co. sold art materials to artists, displayed their fine art works, and employed many local artisans on decorative projects such as fresco painting.

William Wright also made stereoscopes upon an entirely new plan. The article described, “For large pictures but one lens is used, and one can look at pictures through it at the would gaze upon a natural landscape, without being obliged to squint or to place the glass in unpleasant proximity to the eye.”

Many of the fine mountain scenes viewed through this instrument included those secured by Wright in Europe. The newspaper article went on at length to discuss the “perfectness” of heights and proportions in these scenic elevations without any “feeling of weariness in looking for any length of time.”

The selling of stereoscopic views tied in beautifully with many of the painted murals and fresco completed by William Wright & Co. Many of their compositions were based on realistic and historical scenes for both residential and commercial spaces. In 1905 William Wright & Co. did both the decorative work and the entire interior design for the E. M. Harris & Co. cigar store located in the Elks’ Temple. The Detroit Free Press (Sept. 6, 1905, page 10) found the painted scenes from the Sigmund Rothschild tobacco plantations in Cuba “particularly noteworthy.”

The scenes were replicated from actual photographs. I thought back to the various reference sources and clippings saved by nineteenth and twentieth century artists for a variety of venues.

In 1874, the William Wright & Co. moved their offices to a new building on Lafayette, located on the same site where the old City Hotel once stood. Listed as “decorative artists” their company was situated on the second floor, near Lloyd & Pierce, architects. On the floor above were Conely & Hopkin, artists; Charles H. Ellis, civil engineer; and Madame S. Heirigel, teacher of music and languages. The Howard Dramatic Club occupied the fourth floor.

It was the following years that Moses sought employment at William Wright & Co. as they completed a large theatre project in Detroit. At this same time, C. J. Whitney opened an opulent theatre, spending $135,000 to build the Whitney Grand Opera House. I believe that this was the project Moses worked on for Wright – decorating the opera house. Whitney’s structure was known as the most elaborately equipped playhouse in Detroit at the time.

To be continued…

Thomas G. Moses briefly returned to his hometown of Sterling, Illinois at the age of nineteen. He found a few small halls and churches to decorate there, making enough to pay his board. Moses wrote in his diary, “I was looked upon at home as a failure and I was anxious to get away – a long way off so I could get into scenic painting.” He had left at odds with his father and Moses’ desire to become a scenic artist did not improve their relationship. Unfortunately work in Chicago was sporadic and Moses missed his sweetheart Susan “Ella” Robbins.

Ella repeatedly invited Moses to her family’s home for dinner that summer. They had met in school and shared the same birthdate, July 21, 1856. Moses recalled their first date in 1872, writing, “The first party we attended together compelled me to do some hustling in putting my clothes in shape, as about the only clothes I had were made from my Father’s cast-offs, which had done good service in the tannery. A paper collar and “dickey” over my flannel shirt, a piece of ribbon for a tie, a good coat of blacking on my heavy shoes and I was ready to shine in Society. I think Ella was awfully brave to go with me, especially when the other boys always dressed better than I.”

Moses was still smitten with Ella in 1875 as he walked the eleven miles to “Robbin Range,” a farm recently purchased by his Ella’s father. On his way there, Moses encountered Mr. Robbins on the road. He was heading to Sterling and asked Moses to stay for more than just dinner – a week in fact. Mr. Robbins wanted Moses to “use his talents” and paint their new home at Robbin Range!

It took a whole a whole week to complete the task, even though he only applied one coat of paint. “I visited as much as I painted,” wrote Moses. His father was not pleased with his son’s project. He insisted on Moses return to town and work in the tannery, or seek out any other contract work.

Moses soon made up my mind to borrow all of his brother Frank’s savings, which amounted to three dollars, to get some clean clothing and return to Robbins Range. He would soon leave town for the next two years and return once he was “of age” to marry Ella. One evening after dinner at Robbin Range, Moses and Ella went for a long walk in the full moonlight and pledged themselves to each other. Moses, wrote that it was “a heartbreaking farewell” when he eventually left on his walk back to Sterling. “As I stumbled along over the rough road, my heart in a vise, my mind nearly crazed – God only knew what was in store for me, I was completely heart-broken. I was on my way to somewhere and I would have to work it out.”

Instead of returning to Chicago, however, Moses headed to Detroit. There was a firm of decorators there, William Wright & Co., where he had previously worked during a slow spell at the P. M. Almini Co. Wright’s company advertised as “house, sign and fresco painters,” but they were so much more.

Moses purchased a ticket on the night train from Sterling to Detroit. Tucking the ticket safely in his hat, he was and lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the rails. Unfortunately, the hat dropped to the floor while he slept and the train ticket was lost. Moses was later awakened by the conductor, who was demanding his ticket. Of the experience Moses wrote, “My nerve carried me to Detroit, where we arrived early in the morning. I had thirty-five cents and a large appetite. Coffee and doughnuts for breakfast, bought a paper collar and started out.”

He found Mr. Wright on the site of a large theatre project and was hired on the spot, going to work before noon. In 1875, C. J. Whitney built the Whitney Grand Opera House in Detroit, an opulent theatre that cost over $135,000. One that would later be referred to as the “most elaborately equipped playhouse” in Detroit.

Borrowing a pair of overalls went immediately to work on the theatre decoration. At the close of the day he was worried about arranging for board without letting Mr. Wright know he was penniless. Luckily, he had shared his “hard luck story” with a young plaster working next to him that day. He took Moses to his boarding place and stood for his bill. As with many artists, the young man was also a fellow transient, traveling from town to town in search of any work.

Moses noted that within a few weeks he was back on “easy street.” Around this time he also heard from Ella, learning that his father had sent a constable to Robbins Range the day after his departure for Detroit. It was a narrow escape. Lucius was intent of returning his son home. Moses now assumed the name of “George Sampson” in all correspondence with to Ella and his brother Frank. Each kept him posted on the current events at Sterling and all activities at Robbins Range. Moses had no intention of returning anytime soon. He was working toward his plan for a future life with Ella.

To be continued…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued…

Thomas G. Moses wrote that he “worked for a while on the “Naiad Queen” scenery under the celebrated Robert Hopkins, a friend of Malmsha’s” in 1875. This was only a year after beginning his career in scenic art. Within that first year Moses had both worked as Malmsha’s assistant, but also under the direction of Hopkins. Hopkins was later noted as the scenic artist who produced the full set of scenery at the Detroit Opera House, according to Harry Miner’s American Dramatic Directory for the 1882-1883.

“The Naiad Queen” was advertised as the “legendary ballet spectacle performed in four acts.” at Wood’s Theatre in Cincinnati, Ohio.

A series of advertisement appeared in the Cincinnati Enquirer and Cincinnati Daily Star throughout that fall, promoting this production at a venue, then managed by Barney Macauley.

Macauley was a former artist who once traveled throughout the country with Lou Malmsha. Macauley became manager at Wood’s Theatre when Malmsha left life on the road and returned to Chicago in 1871. Bad timing on Malmsha’s part as much of the city soon burned to the ground. Immediately after the great Chicago fire, Malmsha returned to Cincinnati and sought employment at Wood’s Theatre until 1874. Barney Macauley’s company was now performing at Wood’s Theatre.

In 1875 Wood’s Theatre was standing on same patch of ground once vacated by the old People’s Theatre. After being destroyed by fire in 1865, a new home for Wood’s was built at the corner of Sixth and Vine. The scenery production of the “Naiad Queen” was advertised as having “dazzling scenery, superb costumes, illusions, mechanical changes, calcium light, appointments and effects.” The Cincinnati Daily Star published that the show was performed in “the same style as the ‘Black Crook’” with over 100 artists engaged in the spectacle. Furthermore, it included no less than twenty tableaux! As elsewhere, Cincinnati audiences loved the spectacle and the show ended up running an extra week at Wood’s Theatre.

An article on September 27, advertised that “New scenery, new properties, and new costumes have been especially prepared for the two weeks of ‘The Naiad Queen.’” Two days later, a review stated “The scenery by Malmsha is beautiful; the one scene ‘Statuestic Hall,’ would be enough to establish a lasting reputation for any artist in the country.” Malmsha had included both Robert Hawkins and Thomas Moses in the painting of the this production and was known well-enough to be listed as simple “Malmsha.” A valued assistant, Malmsha thought enough of Moses to include him in the production of this amazing scenery. At the age of nineteen, Moses was already participating in an extremely popular high-quality production. Like Malmsha’ own rapid rise to fame, Moses was already on his way to the top.

The production of “The Naiad Queen” included a variety of spectacular scenes. Some depicted fancy interiors in a castle that were complete with gothic halls and banquet rooms. Their windows revealed stunning moonlight scenes and other scenic effects. Exterior scenes included rocky shores with mountainous views and mystic seascapes. Other settings portrayed hidden grottos and secret chambers with strange hieroglyphic symbols and sea monsters.  The plot had many possibilities to highlight the abilities of scenic artists as they created spectacle for the stage.

“The Naiad Queen” provided a wonderful opportunity to hone the skills of a young artist. Moses was painting some of the same subjects that he would continue to paint for almost six more decades, many of them for Masonic theaters.

To be continued…

Thomas Moses entered the world of scenic art as an assistant to C. Louis Malmsha. This was in addition to his work as Malmsha’s assistant in the P. M. Almini & Co. studios. Malmsha was the head designer at Almini’s, but he frequently left to accept theatre projects. It was Malmsha’s painting for McVicker’s Theatre that provided Moses with his first scene painting opportunity. These were formative years for Moses. Again, he was in the right place at the right time. His first scenic art instruction was provided by a nationally recognized master in the theatre world, one that was the proverbial “shooting star.” I previously discussed Malmsha’s significance and artistic endeavors in installments 123 and 124, but I will briefly recap as Malmsha was Moses’ first scenic art mentor.

Malmsha was born in Sweden during 1847 and traveled to America at the age of sixteen in 1863. He initially found employment at Jevne & Almini’s fresco studio, but soon began working as a scenic artist at Crosby’s Opera House.

Malmsha rapidly rose to the top of the scenic art profession in the United States. Moses’ rise to stardom parallels that of his mentor Malmsha. Both quickly transitioned from young fresco assistants to professional scenic artists.

For the last decade of Malmsha’s life, he battled consumption and required increased assistance in everything. This was at the same time that Moses was assigned to Malmsha as his assistant. The seventeen-year-old Moses helped him with a variety of projects. Moses also worked for others at P. M. Almini & Co. during Malmsha’s sporadic absences. Moses, commenting on the times when Malmsha was “taken away” from the studio, wrote, “I had to do a lot of hard work for every Swede and Norwegian on the job. They made me hustle.” This is the first reference to the speed at which Moses was expected to work. Working at a rapid pace was obviously drilled into Moses from the beginning of his career and became his greatest artistic attribute.

After after Malmsha’s passing, Henry C. Tryon wrote a tender tribute that rendered homage to his friend and colleague. Tryon noted his “transcendant genius” as the “best in his profession.” He also commented the speed at which Malmsha worked, writing that his compositions were “produced with astonishing rapidity.” Moses would also become known for the speed at which he worked. In 1881 Moses wrote in his diary, “The others were able to draw more, because they were better in the artistic end, but I had it over them when it came to speed.” By this time, Moses had worked as a scenic artist for seven years and had a sense of both the scenic art profession and the talents of his fellow artists at Sosman & Landis Studio.

We are unsure of how long Moses worked as Malmsha’s assistant. By 1880, Moses was in the employ of Sosman & Landis, a mere three years after the studio opened. By this time, Sosman had heard of Moses’ work and immediately hired him for $18.00 a week. Regardless, at the age of seventeen Moses had started his scenic art career under the tutelage of Malmsha. As a young man who was so eager to learn an artistic trade, he would have embraced all forms of instruction, especially that given by a highly respected instructor. His instructor had quickly ascended to the height of the scenic art profession in less than a decade. This would have been great incentive for an artist entering the field. Interestingly, Malmsha was only nine years Moses’ senior and would have been the perfect role model for this “green boy from the country.”

Malmsha not only set the pace for creating scenic art works, but also provided inspiration for his younger assistant. Talented, dashing, and successful, Malmsha provided an attractive incentive to enter the field of scenic art. In 1874, Malmsha had only been working as a scenic artist for nine years, yet was a sought after commodity throughout the theatre world.

In later years, Moses recalled the talents of Malmsha, writing, “He was a very clever man. In all the years that have passed since then, I have never found a man that could do so little and get so much out of his work, very simple in drawing and color, but very effective.”

To be continued…

I have often found myself being in the right place at the right time. Whether intentional or not, I stumbled into the right room and met the right people. This happens to many individuals over the course of their lives. Life throws a series of opportunities at us. Occasionally, one will make contact. Hopefully, you are able to later look back, connect the dots, and reflect on these moments with profound appreciation. If I had not missed all of the necessary deadlines to attend college in Duluth, I never would have ended up in the Twin Cities. If Lance Brockman had not happened to say, “You should think about taking scene painting class” when I handed in my first production model for Tech II, I could have never started painting for VEE Corporation that summer.

I look at Thomas Moses traveling to Chicago in 1873 and seeking out a master painter for the C. & N. W. Rail Road. He could have arrived and found employment at many businesses as the city built itself up after the devastating fire two years earlier. As an inexperienced boy from a small town, many established art studios could have said “no.” Would anyone else beside Mr. Michaels have gone out on a limb to not only help this young artist find work and lodging, but also write a letter on his behalf to an irate father?   Michael managed to bring Moses to the foremost painting studio in the area and help him secure a position. There were dozens of places to work as a decorator in Chicago at the time.

Mr. Michaels also found Moses a place to stay. It was a room with another artist, a man by the name of Nichols. They both worked for P. M. Almini & Co. Moses. In his manuscript Moses noted that Mr. Nichols was a very good pattern maker at the studio, but “a hard drinker.” Regardless of either attribute, he was very kind as Moses got adjusted to living in the big city. In all reality, Moses’ adventure in the big city could have ended in disaster as “a green one from the country.”

Moses was just one of many artists who found their start with Peter Magnus Almini (1825-1890).

Almini and Otto Jevne (1823-1905) founded a fresco painting and decorating firm in Chicago during 1853, each having arrived in the country just a few years before forming their partnership. Almini was from Sweden and a previous assistant superintendent in the decorating of the royal palace in Stockholm. He also had worked as a fresco artist throughout Russia and Finland. Jevne was fresco painter from Norway with a variety of skills in both stained glass and fresco work. The 1862 publication titled “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,” included the firm of Jevne & Almini in his chapter “Interior Decorations.” It recorded that the firm had “inculcated and infused a higher level of Fresco Painting.” Jevne & Almini were not simply known for their plaster innovations and decorative painting skills. The two were also well known publishers, printing descriptive lithography of landscapes, architecture, publishing a journal devoted to art and architecture titled “Chicago Illustrated” with portfolios that provide many if the visual records from the bustling city before the fire of 1871.

After the 1871 fire, Jevne and Almini separated, each going their own way and founding new companies. Otto Jevne & Co. was initially located at 79 and 81 Dearborn Street, later moving to 226 E. Washington Street. and P. M. Almini & Co. (344 State Street). Jevne advertised as both a fresco painter and glass stainer, but Almini was the greater success by far.

Additionally, Jevne & Almini had advertised as “dealers in artists’ and painters’ materials, oil paintings, steel engravings, chromo lithographs, &c.” As a paint supplier, they knew all the local artists. They were also credited with establishing the first art gallery in Chicago, the forerunner to the Academy of Fine Arts (1879-1882) and later the Art Institute of Chicago.

Furthermore, Almini was a member of the Academy of Design and vice-president of the Master-Painters and Decorator’s Association of Chicago. He was also the treasurer of the National Association of Painters and Decorators when it was founded. His connection to the fine art world and the artists that he employed in his decorating studio provided a perfect situation for an aspiring artist from Sterling, Illinois.

At the same time that Moses found employment with Almini, the company participated in the Inter-State Industrial Exposition of 1873. This was the perfect place and time for Moses to find his first job. Their description in the souvenir catalogue noted:

“P. M. Almini & Co., 344 State street, Chicago, made a fine and attractive display of artists’ material, paints, oils, brushes, foreign and domestic designs in fresco, etc., the whole presenting and exhibition of much attraction to all, being arranged in a highly commendable manner.”

Chicago was building itself up again after the fire and many of its artists were along for the ride.

To be continued…

Thomas G. Moses wrote, “The “Art Bug” began to develop in me quite early. It was at this time that I should have had an opportunity to see if I was qualified to become a real artist, or a good cobbler.” By the age of twelve he was awarded a prize at he county fair for his pencil drawing of the 2^nd Ward school house. Of this time Moses commented, “I was then considered Sterling’s Artist, and a brilliant future was seen for me in the Art World by many.”

That year he had the opportunity to take a few art lessons. Mrs. Worthington, an elderly lady in Sterling, instructed Moses in landscape painting. This gave him a slight foundation that pointed him in the right direction. Moses recalled, “Being twelve years of age and quite young to determine what I wanted to do in life, my County Fair prize picture had brought to me the serious question, which was easily answered – Painting.” He remained something of a “dreamer” as he examined small circulars advertising touring productions such as “The Black Crook.” Moses wrote, “The gaudy illustrations of the different scenes were the most artistic things I had ever seen. How I longed to see wonderful painting. Would I ever be able to paint pictures framed in heavy gold frames, my name on the corner, and hanging in an Art gallery? If I couldn’t do that, could I paint ornamental signs on glass? Or fancy scroll work and landscapes on the side of an omnibus? Or flowers on rocking chairs? It was paint, paint and nothing else.” He wasn’t discerning at all about the type of genre, completing a number of small pictures and dreaming of a life as an artist. Moses remembered that all he hungered for was paint.

As in many cases, the dreams of a young child did not mesh with the expectations of his parents. Lucius Moses saw a great future for his son in the tannery. He used the example of the great General U.S. Grant who had started life as a tanner and ended up as President of the United States. Regardless, no argument could have compelled Moses to change his mind after he became determined to paint. For Moses, his work at the tannery was simply “irksome.” As he only owned one suit of clothes, the smell of the tannery lingered wherever he went, especially at school. It must have been difficult to impress his school mates when “that awful odor from the tannery” would saturate his clothes.

It was at the age of thirteen that Moses first ran away from home, escaping to a nearby town. Traveling by rail with very little money in his pocket, he sought employment outside of the tannery. In Ambrose he visited a car shop for a job in their paint shop. There he was told to return and ask again the following day. After sleeping on a park bench that night and waking to heavy frost, he returned to the paint shop without breakfast. A constable met him at the door and dutifully escorted the young man home as his father had sent a telegram while he slept. Moses remembered his return writing, “There was no fatted calf cooked for this prodigal son, but there was a short interview in the wood shed.”

Four years later, he travelled to Chicago. This time with his father’s permission as he wanted to see the destruction left by the 1871 fire.

He went with a family friend named William Bigelow, the conductor on the Sterling freight train. Moses recalled that Chicago immediately appealed to him, writing in 1872 that “There must be a chance in such a big place for me and I made up my mind to go. All summer I pleaded with Father to allow me to go. He refused. If I wanted to paint, I could get a job at the wagon works at home.”

For the next year, Moses studied hard at school, published articles in the local paper and followed all of the rules. He wrote, “I was given a little more freedom this Winter and I went out a good deal to parties and sleigh rides. Father had relented and gave me some money so I could pay my way. It was harder for me to make up my mind to go to Chicago, but I felt I must get started.”

That spring during April of 1873, his “wild career as an Artist” began. Since his father declined to assist him with his with any artistic aspirations, Moses waited for the right moment and left for Chicago with ten cents in his pocket, a new pair of boots, warm clothes and “a lot of pluck.” He hitched a ride early in the morning with his conductor friend Bigelow, arriving in Chicago late that day. He sought out a family friend who was a Master Painter for the C. & N. W. Rail Road in Clinton, Iowa.

Mr. Michaels wrote a letter to Lucius Moses asking him to let his son give the art world a try and promising to look after him. The next morning, Mr. Michael helped Moses secure a position at the P. M. Almini Company for four dollars a week. The day after, he received his trunk from home, and with it a diary. Within four days of arriving in Chicago, Moses was making a living painting for a decorating studio.

To be continued…

Thomas G. Moses wrote about the separation of his family after his mother’s death. His sisters, Lucia and Illie, were sent back to the East with Aunt Annie while he and Frank remained with their father in Sterling, Illinois. He wrote that they were left to “the tender mercy of servants, who allowed us to run wild with the horses and other wild things, as Father had no time to give for us.”

The brothers were only two years apart in age and spent countless hours getting into mischief. Moses wrote, “If a vacant house was assaulted and all the glass broken, or an orchard or vineyard disturbed, either in the moonlight or daylight, the good people would exclaim, “It must have been those Moses’ boys.” He recalled that they were never vicious, only mischievous.

To stay out of trouble, the boys caught fish in a local river, selling them to the residents of Sterling for a little spending money. Unfortunately, this did not sit well with their father as he considered it a disgrace to the family name – “a Moses did not sell fish on a street corner.” However, with all the money they earned from selling fish, Frank was able to buy books.

The boys soon left their fishing partnership and sought employment opportunities elsewhere. Frank did a little work at the new gas works while Moses worked at their father’s tannery and harness shop. Both were obligated to give all of their hard-earned wages to their father. This never sat well with Thomas as he had aspirations to begin a painting career in Chicago. He would need funds for travel and lodging to seek employment there. Moses eventually left for the big city, with Frank remaining his only link to family and the Sterling area.

As adults, each brother travelled extensively for his respective career. Frank made a name for himself designing, installing, and supervising the new gas plants that were appearing all across the country. He was extremely well known and respected in the gas industry.

Around the same time that Thomas began his artistic career at the interior decorating firm of the P.M. Almini Co. in Chicago, Frank began his career as a lamp lighter for the Sterling gas company.

In 1879 Frank journeyed to Indianapolis as a “gas maker,” soon becoming the project foreman for the area. From 1882-1889 he worked in engineering and construction at Kerr-Murray Manufacturing Co. in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Between 1889 and 1898 Frank travelled with the Mutual Fuel Gas Co. of Chicago and was stationed in various cities, including St. Joseph, MO, Zanesville, OH, and Bellevue, KY. By 1898 he moved to Trenton, NJ, and took charge of the new gas plant. The company was later absorbed into the South Jersey Gas Electric and Traction Company, but Frank became chief engineer and remained with the company until 1902. The following year he went into business for himself, building gas works and later incorporating the Gas Engineering Company. Frank was one of the pioneers who introduced gas ranges in this country.

He had large contracts for selling and installing ranges and appliance in many eastern cities that included Trenton, NJ, Camden, NJ, Baltimore, MD, Troy, and Albany, NY. At the end of his life, Frank D. Moses was president of the Gas Engineering Co. of Trenton, New Jersey and applied for a patent on a gas apparatus. He passed away on November 7, 1927, after spending 52 years in the gas business.

The American Gas Association Monthly noted Frank Moses’ contribution to the gas industry when he passed away, listing him as one of the gas industry’s “old guard.” Thomas’ son, Pitt, followed the career of his uncle and worked with him at the gas plant in New Jersey. Moses recorded in his diary that he had been unaware of any health concerns with his brother. It was a time when personal illnesses were not always openly shared with family members.

To be continued…