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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).

The inclusion of so many women surprised and delighted me.

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.

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.

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…

There is that certain feeling that I get when looking for something that I have misplaced. I can see it so clearly in my mind’s eye, repeatedly going back to the same spot over and over again. Eventually I locate the lost object, often in the exact same location where I knew it had to be!

I experience this same feeling while doing research, whether it be on scenic artists or Masonic scenery. There are certain places and times that I keep returning to, expecting something to finally appear. It was this same intuition that worked well for me at Fort Scott, Kansas, when we were removing the historical scenery collection for transport. It was one of the reasons why I crawled on my hands and knees through the filth digging in the crack between the wall and floor that was twenty feet above the stage. I am usually successful if I follow my instinct, whether it is research or painting. This persistent search resulted in the discovery of Thomas G. Moses’ personal artifacts. I knew that something was up there waiting to be found, so I just kept looking.

Last month, I finally tracked down a scenic artist that I have been searching for since receiving an Undergraduate Research Opportunities Program grant to process the Great Western Stage Equipment Company collection for the Performing Arts archives. At this same time, I was introduced to the Twin City Scenic Company collection and the art of John Z. Wood. I immediately was under the spell of Wood’s paintings and enthralled with his designs and painting techniques. Since then, I have spent thousands of hours of my own time searching telephone directories, census documents, and fine art books to track him down. I wrote letters to historical societies and museums, made onsite visits to peruse various archives, and even traveled across the country to view fine art.

Wood’s paintings were unique and very different from all of the other scenic art designs from the other historical scenery collections. There was a greater depth to his compositions and the color palette was much richer. Wood’s paintings also incorporated an interesting finish, giving each painting a slight sheen. This suggested that he was using either a different binder, applying a final warm glaze, or sealing his final product. However, it was his foliage painting that absolutely captivated me as a nineteen-year-old artist and a technique that allowed me to identify even unsigned his art works. There was a lacey quality to the foliage painting that I had never seen in any other fine art piece – except once at a thrift store. I immediately bought that battered print because it reminded me of his work. It now hangs on a wall where it is one of the first images I see every morning.

Wood’s paintings were very romantic. He painted large soft areas of warm color and then allowed individual leaves to magically emerged from these welcoming masses. For me, this was absolute magic. As artists, we always talk about developing our own individual style. I desperately wanted to develop a style like John Z. Wood.

Over the years, I kept going back to many of the same places to continue my research and was able to track down a few bits and pieces of Wood’s fine art pieces. However, his personal life or professional appointments remained shrouded in mystery. His fine art primarily hung on walls at residences along the east coast and I had to wonder what had brought him to work in the Midwest at the Twin City Scenic Company in Minneapolis. Why leave an obviously successful career in fine art for the theatre career much later in life?

In 2001, I tracked down another Wood painting at a private residence in New Jersey. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to make a side trip to see the painting while visiting close friends in the area. Melissa Semmes-Thorne and made a special trip to Chatham, New Jersey.

There, Mrs. Glover offered us a cold drink and explained everything she knew about the artwork and the artist – which was virtually nothing. My heart sank when she started the conversation with, “Well, I actually know very little about him.” She had no idea that Wood also designed for the theatre and my trip seemed to be a waste. Mrs. Chatham could only explain that her father purchased the painting from the actual artist, known to be a very famous painter in the region. That was really my only clue – he lived in the area – at some point. So Wood was a resident of New Jersey or New York? Based on her story, he was also still living when her father bought the painting around the turn of the century.

Since that trip, I have discovered very little additional information – until last month. The continuous scanning and uploading of historic documents have changed everything for my research. In many ways, Wood’s story paralleled that of Thomas G. Moses, just ten years earlier as he was born in 1846. He was a prolific fine artist and had connections with Minnesota artists.

To be continued…

Although theatre is often considered ephemeral, some scenes were stored and repurposed for new productions. Scenery was not only reused and resold for Masonic venues. I had previously used the Austin Scottish Rite as an example of second-hand scenery. The used settings were originally manufactured by Sosman & Landis for Guthrie, Oklahoma in 1900 and sold to Austin in 1913. Regardless, for both fraternal and commercial theatres, it was an expensive investment. I have often wondered when drop rental houses really started as an option for theatre companies. In any case, the actual painting had to be in good shape, without dusting or fading for later reuse.

The 1893 Star-Gazette (Elmira, New York) published an interesting article that noted the reuse of old scenery for a current opera (page 5). Previously painted scenes by Harley Merry and Sosman & Landis were once again hung in the theatre. The author of the article writes, “It is a dear old scene, almost as dear as it is old,” the author wrote when referencing a setting by Merry originally used for the laboratory scene of “Herzog, the Black Crook.”

In addition to the laboratory setting, Merry’s forest scene “with the gnarled oak growing up in the middle and spreading its umbrageous branches upon the soubrette and the low comedian alike” was also used for the production, as was his “Subterranean Vault in the Castle of Wolfenstein.” In addition to Merry’s scenes, there was also the old “Rocky Pass” scene by Sosman & Landis.

In 1893, the author of the article wrote, “Next time you see these scenes have respect. They are old, true. But old masterpieces are infinitely better than new trash, and see the tribute that the manager of the “Black Crook” paid them. Who, but a connoisseur would have discovered that these despised pieces of canvas are genuine Harley Merry’s and real Sosman & Landers [sic.]. Our respect for the opera increases.”

As I was digging through old newspapers, I stumbled across other scenery painted by Merry for the Elmira Lyceum. In 1902, he was credited with the scenery for “The Fatal Wedding, a melodrama in four acts.”

The Lyceum Theatre in Elmira, New York, began as an opera house. The earliest image that I have been able to locate is a stereoscope card depicting an interior setting, artist unknown.  In 1864, the bustling town of Elmira became a city and the development of the theatre block began. Silas Haight and his son-in-law Dr. Henry H. Purdy secured three lots on Lake, Market and Carroll Streets to construct an entertainment venue in a central location for its citizens, seating approximately 2000 people. The Opera House occupied the upper floor with seven stored beneath the theatre, costing a staggering $89,000. The main entrance was on Lake Street, with a side entrance on Carroll Street. It opened on Dec. 17, 1867.

Harry C. Miner’s American Dramatic Directory for the season of 1887-1888 lists the Opera House in Elmira, New York, with a population of 30,000. The proscenium opening was 30’ x 25’ with a stage measuring 48’ x 75.’ The height from stage to groves was 16 feet with a rigging loft at forty feet above the stage. The depth under the stage was 10 feet. The directory specifies that there were thirty-three sets of scenes for use. The stage carpenters were Matt Lockwood and John Brown. No specific scenic artist was listed for the creation of the scenery collection. This suggests that multiple scenic artists or studios created the painted settings.

In 1904, the Lyceum Theatre was rebuilt after being destroyed by a fire. The majority of images available online depict the Lyceum’s interior and scenic art by W. R. Clark. Clark also is also credited with the scenery for the Victoria Opera House in Goderich, Ontario, Canada.

By 1906, Julius Cahn’s Theatrical Guide, Vol. 11, describes the new Lyceum in a city of 40,000. The new venue now accommodates 1,675 people, the proscenium measures 38’ x 38’ with the height to the rigging loft at 66.’ The height to the fly gallery was 25’ with a paint bridge. W. R. Clark was noted as the scenic artist and H. Bouille as the stage carpenter. The new building included 18 fire exits.

There were two other performance venues in Elmira, the Academy of Music and Stancliff Hall.

To be continued…

In 1893, Merry was credited for his “innovation in scenic realism” at the Holmes Star Theatre. His scenery for “The Pulse of New York” was advertised as “a perfect picture of city life” with “elaborate scenic embellishments” and “wonderful mechanic effects” (The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, April 30, pg. 10). Merry’s stage settings introduced well-known points of interest and scenes from everyday metropolitan life, including a bustling elevated railroad, activity around a river pier, a famous Bowery resort, a steam pile driver at work, and a building on fire. The rescue scene showcased the “leap for life” – the new the method adapted by the New York Fire Department for saving human lives. This final scene would later be developed into the Luna Park attraction “Fire and Flames.”

At the time, Merry was exploring a new type of stage entertainment; one that that went beyond any romanticized visual spectacle. I believe that it was a late-nineteenth century version of our current “reality TV.” It was understandable that Merry gravitated toward creating realistic settings for both the stage and film. He soon partnered with the Edison Manufacturing Company and was involved in an early film production “Parsifal.” This short film was based on the New York Metropolitan’s Opera that ran for approximately one half hour.

Each copy of the film was sold with an illustrated lecture on the life and works of Wagner, the story of Parsifal, and a synopsis of the different scenes. The movie was divided into eight reels, each reel containing a separate scene running from 20 feet to 382 feet in length: (part one) “Parsifal Ascends the Throne;” (part two) “Ruins of Magic Garden;” (part three) “Exterior of Klingson’s Castle;” (part four) “Magic Garden;” (part five) “Interior of the Temple;” (part six) “Scene Outside the Temple;” (part seven) “Return of Parsifal;” and (part eight) “In the Woods.” The production team was relatively small: Edwin S. Porter (director and photographer), Edison Manufacturing Company (producer) and Harley Merry (scenery). The cast included Adelaide Fitz-Allen, as Kundry and Robert Whittier as Parsifal. Unfortunately, due to the expensive price and unfamiliar medium, the film only sold only a small number of copies. Merry almost certainly lost his $1800 investment.

Advertisements in Motion Picture World (Dec. 7, 1907, page 655) noted “In Parsifal we offer the greatest religious subject that has been produced in motion picture since the Passion Play was first produced by the Edison Company about eight years ago, and there has been a constant demand for this picture during all these years, and continuing up to the present day. At the same time, there has been not only a demand, but a long-felt want for a new religious picture of interest and merit similar to the Passion Play.

Harley Merry acquired the motion picture rights for Parsifal and brought his idea to Edison and Porter. Edison had been experimenting with ways to combine silent films with recorded music and the fit seemed perfect. This is the same year that Edison films for many other topics also appeared, including spectacles at Coney Island, such as“Fire and Flames.”

The final contract to produce “Parsifal” was between Edison Manufacturing Company and Merry Scenic Construction Company, giving Merry a royalty payments based on the linear feet of each film sold. Merry was to receive two cents foot for a film that measured 1,975 feet long. Each copy was sold for approximately $335 dollars (today’s equivalent of over $9,000). Although several full-page ads were placed in the New York Clipper, the film did not sell well at all. Interestingly, the Library of Congress restored the film in 2001, taking the soundtrack from surviving copies of the original Kinetophone cylinders.

What I find fascinating about Merry’s career as a scenic artist and designer is the he continued to adapt his scenic art form to new technology. Merry, as well as Ernest Albert and others, were continuously integrating new technology into their final painted product, whether it was stage machinery or Kinetophone.

To be continued…

The past two posts have delved into the world of Coney Island spectacles. This is part of my continued exploration of the life and times of Thomas G. Moses, the creator of the Fort Scott scenery collection.

Moses also designed and painted many attractions for Coney Island from 1902 to 1904, having arrived in New York during 1900. Although he initially painted for Broadway, he was soon caught up in the excitement of Luna Park on Coney Island. In many ways, I think that this may have been the happiest time in his life. He was on an artistic ascent and jobs were plentiful. He would only leave this region after Joseph S. Sosman pleaded for his return to Sosman & Landis Studio in Chicago during 1904.

In 1902, Moses recorded that Fred Thompson had started to build Luna Park, opposite Dreamland and Steeple Chase Park on Coney Island. Thompson and Elmer “Skip Dundy” became the park’s creators after creating a wildly successful ride, “Trip to the Moon,” for the 1901 Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, New York. They transported the attraction to Coney Island an experienced a wildly successful season during 1902.

At the end of the season, they immediately began planning their own amusement park, leasing Paul Boyton’s Sea Lion Park. Their sixteen-acre park soon expanded it to twenty-two acre park after acquiring some more adjoining land. Advertising that new park had cost one million dollars to construct, it opened on May 16, 1903. At eight o’clock on the evening of the first day, 250,000 lights illuminated their venture, outlined the buildings and creating a magical land.

Moses was involved in creating a major attraction in Luna Park called “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” with his partner Will Hamilton. In his typed manuscript, Moses writes,

“Our first big job for ‘Luna Park’ was ‘20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.’ It was a very unique show and kept us busy for several months. We had a real submarine boat in front of the show that actually sank with the passengers and was totally submerged. The passengers were then taken out of the boat through a passageway into another boat, a duplicate of the one they first entered. Then, the effect of under the sea was sprung on them and it worked perfectly. The illusion was very convincing.”

This illusion took visitors on a trip beneath the seas in the Nautilus submarine. Passengers boarded the vessel, the outer hatch closed, and passengers dove deep beneath the ocean’s surface. Through portholes, one could see monsters of the deep, sunken ships and huge coral reefs. The ship journeyed from the Indian Sea to the North Sea. During their journey, they hit an iceberg during their ascent to the surface. When the passengers unloaded from the ride they were treated to the Arctic’s cold atmosphere, created from ammonia gas, and a spectacular view of the Aurora Borealis. They also experienced Eskimos in fur skins who had emerged from their homes, eager to meet the new arrivals. The total cost for this illusion was approximately $180,000.

In 1905, this attraction was replaced by “Dragon’s Gorge” – an indoor scenic railroad coaster that allowed visitors to witness magnificent scenes from the North Pole all the way to the Grand Canal. So popular was ride that it remained open until 1944 when it was destroyed by fire.

Moses and Hamilton also produced the attraction called “Fire and Flames.”

This was the reenactment of the actual burning of a four story brick buildings over the space of a city block. Fire engines raced to the scene and over sixty firemen rescued people from the burning buildings. Visitors watched people leap from smoke-filled windows onto a net below. Moses recounted this project, writing, “Real fire, real engines and an awful mob of street vendors and loafers. A lot of good comedy and it did good business. It was so popular that a similar attraction called “Fighting the Flames” immediately appeared at “Dreamland.”

Moses and Hamilton also did several other small shows at Luna Park, including “The War of Worlds” for which they received $2,900.00. Moses even notes their $2,200.00 profit, as they painted it in less that one half the time we thought it would take. It was all painted in oil as the scenes all worked through a tank of water. The attraction included battleships that were large enough to hold the “good-sized boy” who operated them during in battle scenes. Moses recalled this “big hit,” but one having “too much powder and noise.”

Luna Park proved to be a lucrative investment for many scenic artists as Coney Island. Elaborate venues with massive spectacles really showcased their art. This was a unique period in time when new opportunities were abundant for theatre manufacturers and suppliers. New technology was integrated into old pictorial illusions. The inspiring artist and investor had many opportunities to experiment with spectacle. Amusement park attractions also proved to be inspiration for early films.

Thomas Edison even made a short movie depicting the 1904 “Fire and Flames” attraction at Coney Island. The scenic realism and early movies of Moses’ contemporary Harley Merry continue tomorrow. In the meantime, here is the link to the short film for a wonderful step back in time: (https://letterboxd.com/film/fire-and-flames-at-luna-park-coney-island-an-attraction-at-coney-island/)

To be continued…

The “Eruption of Mount Pelee” was another one of the models destroyed in the fire in the Harley Merry studio. This Coney Island disaster spectacel opened only two years after the actual event killed 30,000 people in 1902. Architects Essenwein & Johnson designed a structure to hold the “Mont Pelee, the Last Days of St. Pierre” production. Measuring 225 feet by 150 feet, it was the largest amusement structure on Coney Island and employed over fifty individuals to create attraction, many of who were electricians and mechanics.

A hundred and sixty thousand tons of water was used for the production on a stage measuring 160 feet by 90 feet. The audience’s viewpoint was from that of a spectator in a boat off shore. The production opened with an exquisite view of Tampa, Florida, depicting peaceful waters in the bay. Ships and yachts sailed by as daylight gradually transitioned into a glorious sunset. Soon it was dusk and twinkling lights illuminated windows at seaside resorts. Finally the stage was obscured by darkness. Travellers now journeyed all the way across the ocean and were transported to the island of Martinique.

The attraction used a brand new technology with a radium curtain that brought about realistic darkness while the change from open sea to the island of Martinique took place. During their travel they experienced a savage storm at sea with lightning, flying clouds, surging water and rain.

Arriving at Island of Martinque, they were just in time to witness an amazing sunrise and the warm glow spread over the red-tiled roofs in the unsuspecting city. The audience’s “boats” came even closer to the shores of Martinique and the city’s buildings continued to increase in size.

The clouds surrounding Mount Pelee soon begin to darken and ominous rumblings are heard in the distance. Suddenly, fire shoots upward from the mountain and streams of molten lava pour down the mountainside. Masses of rock are hurled through the air, igniting homes as they land. Flames sweep throughout the city and steam rises from the harbor as anchored ships begin to smolder. This horrific scene gradually becomes obscured with black smoke.  As the smoke resides, the scene has changed and the audience now witnesses a devastating view of mass destruction. It was said to be an impressive disaster spectacle!

I had to wonder why the models in Merry’s studio that depicted attractions on Coney Island were the work of Harley Merry or the studio renters E. Van Ackerman and J. Katzer. If we consider the models to be the work of Ackerman, it would be a natural extension of their sideline business that produced both photographic backings and stereoscopic cards. It appeared that Ackerman Bros. was the epitome an early twentieth scenic studio’s attempt to diversify, providing all kinds of painted scenery for various venues.

It the models were part of the studio contents left by Merry it would also make sense as he had died only four months before. Merry’s scenic art and designs had already transitioned from simple stage productions to scenic realism spectacle and film by the turn of the twentieth century.

To be continued…

The January 6, 1911 issue of the Brooklyn Eagle that noted the destruction of “Old Harley Merry’s Studio included destroyed contents included the completed scenery for “The Real Girl,” “Class,” the original models for “The Johnstown Flood,” “The Eruption of Mount Pelee,” “The Deluge” and twenty-two other similar productions.” I realized that these were well known attractions at Coney Island!

Visual spectacles thrilled early twentieth century crowds, allowing visitors an escape from their everyday lives. In addition to the standard amusement park attractions with exotic animals, freak shows, and carnival games were disaster attractions. Visitors would pay to witness emulations of the death and destruction caused by the Jamestown flood, the volcanic eruption of Mount Pelee, the San Francisco earthquake, the Galveston flood, the Fall of Pompeii, the naval battle of the Russo-Japanese War, the Boer War, the Fall of Adrianople, the War of the Worlds, the Battle of Merrimac. There were others that didn’t depict a specific event, but just capitalized on horrific situations titled “Fire and Flames,” “Fighting the Flames,” “Hell Gate,”” End of the World,” and others. These amusements put viewers in a front row seat to relive the death and destruction with vivid dioramas and elaborate technical productions.

The Johnstown Flood show (1902-1905) was an attraction at Luna Park on Coney Island. It had initially made its success at the Pan-American Exposition in 1901, along with “Trip to the Moon.” Both attractions were transported to Coney Island.

On May 31, 1889, a dam near Jamestown, Pennsylvania collapsed and flooded the valley with twenty million tons of water. There was virtually no escape as everything was destroyed in its path and 2,209 people lost their lives. An article from “Snap Shots on the Midway” advertised the Johnstown Flood attraction as “a scenograph, the logical evolution of the cyclorama, the diorama and the scenic theater, accomplishes the illusion, which is set on an ordinary stage and is in reality a performance in pantomime, where all the actors are what would be called in stage parlance, “properties.”

The Johnstown Flood show began with Memorial Day activities, a mere twenty-four hours before the disaster with an army processional crossing a little bridge in the bustling town. As day progressed and lights gradually appeared in residential windows as the stage darkened to dusk. Trains move across the line of vision as the moon gently ascended from the horizon. Night waned and sunrise broke forth on the morning of the disaster. As the hours passed, the wooden foundation of the dam wss undermined by the trickling of the waters from the rivulets feeding the lake of South Fork (fourteen miles away). An avalanche of water was launched down the Conemaugh valley, sweeping away five thousand inhabitants of Johnstown. The article continued, “An electric storm is made to burst in the stage picture before the arrival of the deluge, when the afternoon of May 31st, 1889, was innocent of water from the skies, but under cover of the darkness and in fitful gleam of vivid lightening the spectacular effect is heightened and is convincing. The cry of the talker: “‘The dam is burst!’ his relation of the wild ride of Johnny Baker, a ride between flood and a horse, between life and death, the loss of the horse and the death of the noble boy, comes with startling effect.

Fire then breaks out in the debris about the stone bridge. Hundreds of dead and other hundreds of living are imprisoned there. They are burned to a crisp. The Catholic Church, the field hospital, also breaks into flames. The rescued perish there. Then the fire dies away and the scene darkens. The turn of a hand measures the time of the change coming with the light which shows Johnstown as it is today, rebuilt and flourishing.”

The Buffalo Times (May 4, 1901) issue published that the Johnstown Flood “scenograph” for the World’s Fair was created by the artist E. J. Austen. Austen was noted “the foremost cycloramic artist of the world” and assisted by a large staff of noted artists, chief among who were Charles A. Corwin, Frank C. Pepraud and Herbert V. Brown. In producing the marvelous mechanical effects, E. S. Shea of New York had a prominent part, being the “originator of many devices now being used in the prominent theaters of this and other countries.” Herbert A. Bradwell, the electrician also stood out at the head of his profession producing novel effects, many that had never been seen before. Bradwell, advertised as a specialist in illusions and a constructor of electric and scenic shows, was located at 28 Lexington Avenue, New York.

In 1906, “The Deluge” replaced the Johnstown flood in the same building. This attraction enacted the story of Noah and the flooding of the entire world. During the final 1908 season, changes were made to the finale include an earthquake and fire in addition to the flood.

To be continued…

Four months after Harley Merry’s death his old studio was destroyed by fire. I find this fascinating as the story reads like a mystery. The January 9 issue of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported a substantial loss for the current occupants.

It published, “The Harley Merry scenic studio in Franklin avenue, near Malbone street, in which the scenery for many of the greatest dramatic productions was painted, was destroyed by fire today. The entire contents of the building, including the completed scenery for one production and the partly finished scenery for another play, was lost. The building loss is estimated at $3,000, while the loss of the contents will amount to $10,000. The building and contents were uninsured. The fire was discovered at 10:30 o’clock by Michael Stabile of 27 Coffey street, who, with Frederick Snell of 8905 Fifth avenue, was in the building at the time.

Stabile was in the cellar under the studio when he heard a noise which sounded like the drop of a heavy weight. He ran up to the second floor, and as he opened the door leading to the stairway a cloud of smoke burst into his face. He called for help and a policeman sent in an alarm. Batailion Chief O’Hare, who was in charge of the fire engine companies to arrive, feared that the fire would spread to the adjoining building, which are all of frame construction, and to the Consumers Brewery across the street, and he sent in a second alarm. Six engines and two truck companies were soon on the scene, but the fire was beyond control and their efforts were devoted to saving surrounding property.

The roof fell an hour after the fire was discovered. Ten foremen were in the building when the roof tottered and were warned by the call of Deputy Chief O’Hara. All escaped before the roof collapsed. The flammable nature of the contents and the high wind are given as causes for the building’s rapid destruction.

The building was originally used as a scenic studio by E. J. Britton, retired actor and scenic artist, who painted under the name of Harley Merry. After his death last September the building passed into the hands of his daughter Mrs. George Kennington. It has recently been rented as a studio to E. Van Ackerman and J. Katser.”

I wondered about the history of these recent renters, Ackerman and Katser.

Ackerman sounded familiar to me, so I checked my scenic artist database. I only found a very brief notation about P. Dodd Ackerman, so I started searching newspapers from the period. In 1897 E. Van Ackerman painted a new drop curtain for B. F. Keith’s Union Square Theatre, depicting a “handsome interior with a view of a drawing room and distant conservatory” (New York Times, Dec. 8, 1897, page 4). He also painted the scenery for “The Privateer” at the Star Theatre with P. Dodd Ackerman. In 1913, he designed “Mlle. Modiste” at the Globe Theatre.

I then found an advertisement in 1913 of “E. Van Ackerman, Scenic Studio, successor to P. Dodd Ackerman.” This suggested a split in the partnership, or possible death. The advertisement also noted that the studio was established in 1890. He advertised services for the painting and building of productions at 1576-1578-1580 Bushwick Avenue, Borough of Brooklyn, New York City. It also noted that Ackerman’s studio was only “Thirty Minutes from Broadway.” The “Ackerman Bros. Scenic Studio” had been at the same location, yet the advertisement in Gus Hill’s theatrical directory was from 1914, a year later. This was curious. Ackerman Bros. Scenic Studio, however, mentioned their production of Motion Picture Theatre Settings.

As I examined the production history for both E. Van and P. Dodd, they primarily functioned as a scenic artist and scenic designer, respectively. I was more familiar with P. Dodd as he had numerous entries of designs in the Broadway Database (https://www.ibdb.com/), being listed as a designer for ninety-one productions from 1897-1939. His career really took off in 1908 and I had to wonder if his success as a scenic designer caused the two partners, possibly brothers, to briefly part ways. Obviously, their time apart was short-lived as E. Van Ackerman’s rental of Merry’s studio could have only been for a few months. Maybe the disaster and lack of insurance has caused E. Van and P. Dodd to partner again?

Comparatively to P. Dodd Ackerman, E. Van Ackerman had only two productions listed in the Broadway database – 1897 and 1927. That was a thirty- year separation and he had almost a non-existent paper trail for theatrical productions. Very little was published about E. Van Ackerman’s scenic art or designs, but in 1927 he designed the setting for “Tia Juana,” a melodrama at the Schubert Playhouse. The November 5 Morning News (Wilmington, Delaware) reported, “The Company is capable, the scenery elaborate, and there are no dull moments” (page 13). Ackerman’s design for the show was built by the Vail Scenic Construction Company.

In the Old Harley Merry Studio fire during 1911, the newspaper article noted, “The contents included the completed scenery for the production of “The Real Girl,” a musical comedy which is to be produced on Broadway within a few weeks, and also the partly finished canvas for the farcical comedy, “Class,” which also has a Broadway booking.” I have been unsuccessful in finding that either of these productions was finalized. The article also noted “The loss of these two sets is estimated between $6,000 and $7,000.” That would have been a heavy loss at the time.

I then read the last line of the article and experienced butterflies in my stomach. It read, “The studio contained the original models of the “Johnston Flood,” “The Eruption of Mount Pelee,” “The Deluge,” and twenty-two other similar productions.” I knew those productions! But they weren’t Broadway shows – they were disaster spectacles for Coney Island! Maybe E. Van Ackerman’s focus had been producing attractions for amusement parks. They could also have been Merry’s work left over from previous years; items that had not been cleared out of the studio before the renters arrived on site.

To be continued…

Harley Merry secured employment at the renovated Brooklyn Atheneum after being dismissed from the Brooklyn Theatre. Merry painted settings for the venue that included four sets – a parlor, kitchen, wood and garden scene. He also painted a new drop curtain with an Italian scene. The stage carpenter from the Academy of Music (Jonathan Newman) made the alterations to the original space from 1853. One noted improvement in the August 12, 1874, issue of The Brooklyn Daily Eagle (page 3) was that Mr. Newman introduced “a sliding beam, or derrick, which can be rolled in and out through the back wall of the building, near the roof, to the end of which a tackle is rigged sufficiently to hoist up from the ground a weight o several tons. This will obviate the necessity of carrying pianos, heavy baggage and other unwieldy objects up the front stairs, as has heretofore been necessary.”

Merry also painted and performed for the Brooklyn Academy of Music (located at 176-194 Montague Street). He participated in a benefit of the Szegedin Fund at the Brooklyn Academy of Music in a production entitled, “Forty-Niners, or the Pioneer’s Daughter; A Tale of the Great Sierras.” Merry performed in the cast with Adelaide Roselle (Mrs. H. Merry), Josey Brittain (Merry’s daughter, Josephine), and T. W. Hanshaw (Merry’s travel companion to London in 1874). An advertisement noted, “The scenery will be entirely new, covering thirty thousand square feet of canvas, painted by Harley Merry (at his Flatbush Studio) and from sketches made by him in the Sierra Mountains.”

He had an extensive career painting for a variety of venues throughout New York and the eastern region. Here are a few highlights from his career during the late nineteenth century. In 1883, Merry primarily worked from his studio in Flatbush. There, he putting the finishing touches on the drop curtain that measured 27’ x 48’ for a Passion Play. The drop curtain composition was titled “Jerusalem is Holy, noted” in Hebrew characters on the frame. Gold-trimmed crimson draperies surrounded the composition. A second layer of blue draperies included a lily pattern to suggest the verse “Judah shall bloom like the lily.” The exotic composition depicted a seated priestess, sphinx, a tall censor of gold and blue marble, clouds of purplish smoke, papyrus, palm trees, and Egyptian harp, a Jewish psalter, Oriental horns, and an Egyptian scroll. Above, the angel of peace and cherubs ringing golden bells floated high above the cross. His painting was noted as a success.

In 1884 Merry created the scenery for a new Romantic spectacle entitled, “The Devil’s Auction” that was described as a “Dramatic Pantomine and Terpsichorean Artists” with the Grand English Ballet from the Alhambra, London. It Music Hall, the production for a cost of $20,000. Merry entered various partnerships over the years, including one with Henry E. Hoyt in 1888 to create scenery for the new comic opera, “The Queen’s Mate” at the Broadway Theatre.

The same year “Getz, Merry & Reid” was formed and were credited with painting the scenery for Wm. J. Gilmore’s “The Twelve Temptations.” This was extensively advertised as “a scenic, ballet, and pantomimic spectacle.” The settings included sixteen full stage pictures with a moving panorama that cost $35,000 to produce.

By 1892 Merry was painting with John H. Young and creating a new scenery installation for the Columbia Theatre. Merry focused on the stock sets while John H. Young primarily the front curtain. An article in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle noted that the 2,000 electric lights illuminated the new stage (Feb 14, 1892, pg. 20). Merry again joined forces again with John H. Young in 1894, for James W. Harkins, Jr.’s “A Man Without a Country” at the American Theatre (New York Tribune, Sept 23, 1894, pg. 19). The creation of the scenery also involved Lafayette W. Seavey and Frank Rafter. In 1895, Harley Merry, Joseph Clare and E. P. Dodge created the settings for Springer & Welty’s revival production of “The Black Crook.”

In 1897 Harley Merry, John H. Young, Walter Burridge, Richard Marston and Homer Emens produced the scenery for Margaret Mather’s production of “Cymbeline.” An article in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle (September 28, page 7) commented that the group was noted as the “foremost scene painters of their time. They are artists and 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.”

In his later years, Merry became a collector of pictures and a “student of art,” residing at 949 Franklin Avenue. He passed away in 1911 and a September 3 issue of the New York Times reported, “Harley Merry, a well-known scenic artist and forty years ago the well-known actor, died yesterday at his home, Avenue Z and Ryder Avenue, Brooklyn, from causes due to old age.”

Merry’s wife passed a mere three years later. Her obituary was published in “The Sacramento Union” (No. 59, February 28, 1914). It noted, “Louise M. R. Brittain, widow of E. J. Brittain, known as Adelaide Roselle to theatre goers of a generation ago, who was the first woman of English birth to take out naturalization papers here died yesterday at the home of her daughter in Flushing, aged seventy years. Mrs. Brittain was leading woman with Edwin Booth, William H. Crane and John McCullough.” Her stage name was noted as Adelle Roselle Merry in The Sun (NY, NY), June 9, 1914 page 9.

To be continued…

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.”

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.

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…