Category: Uncategorized

It’s Only a Canvas Sky, Hanging Over a Muslin Tree

 At Colorado Springs, we encountered the first real snag in our cross-country journey to Santa Fe –new truck tires. This meant a slight delay and one that I could not afford to take. Without hesitation I continued on to Santa Fe in a rental car, leaving both traveling companions behind. I had an immovable deadline and a difficult task – photographing and processing twenty-nine degree scenes in seven days. There would be no stage crew or wardrobe department during each photo shoot, just Jo and I. We were up against the wall.

It was during my drive from Colorado to New Mexico that I finally felt able to breathe again. It was the mountains and the fall colors that energized my core. At the first glimpse of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, I finally felt that my soul was whole again and I was at peace. Every time I visited this area of New Mexico, I pondered how soon we could move here. I really am living in the wrong region, I thought. Picking up a handful of the area’s colorful dirt urges many to contemplate its ancient inhabitants; this is the inspiration that calls to many artists. It pulls at your soul and begs you to stay in the arid desert, capturing the vivid skies and tumultuous rainstorms. It makes me want to hike ancient trails and paint age old scenes.

During my week in Santa Fe, Jo and I worked non-stop, scheduling three photo sessions a day with a new groups of models for every shoot. Luckily, I ended up staying at Jo’s home so that we could “work” before work at the Scottish Rite and “work” after work at the Scottish Rite. We had been unable to secure enough volunteers from the Santa Fe Scottish Rite Reunion, so Masonic men were scarce to act as models. Jo brought in a variety of local residents and friends who added to our workload. This meant new people and meeting a variety of fascinating local artists and photographers- many who were transplants to the region from various areas across the globe. Even my traveling companions came into help for two days and once again, Andrew was handling the lines and Christee dressing people in wardrobe. Thank God for their help as I was starting to burn out.

As wonderful as the landscape and people were, I needed to be in a Scottish Rite theatre again.  Every time I step onto a Scottish Rite stage, I experience a moment magic. The stage and painted scenery collections become living entities. It is something that passes on Masonic messages to each new generation and I find tranquility. I used to compare it to “coming home.” I step on a Scottish Rite stage, look up at the wooden battens, and become part of something greater than myself; it gives me purpose. Whatever I may have experienced at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center, it had nothing to do with the Fraternity or Masonic principles. It was devoid of this magic. Standing under the stage lights, I realized that I would continue my calling elsewhere; seeking peace on other fraternal stages steeped in history.

Throughout the entire shoot, Jo and I recognized that we were involved in something groundbreaking, standing on the edge of a precipice that contained something truly unique. Many historical painted scenes had been photographed throughout the decades, some even with costumed participants in static stage pictures. But we were Photographing 1912 degree productions with a contemporary photographic style where Jo activated various areas of the composition to suggest the life on stage.

To be continued…

Escape

 It felt like I was fleeing the state on October 12, 2016; so desperate was my need to leave Minnesota and seek sanctuary in Santa Fe. I began a cross-country road trip with two dear friends from college. We had all been in the theatre department together at the University of Minnesota and shared many stressful times working on theatre productions or other projects. It was a trip that would test the limits of any relationship as we journeyed from Des Moines, Iowa, to Santa Fe, New Mexico in Christee Lee’s RV. After Santa Fe, our plan was to venture east to Austin, Texas, so that I could visit the Harry Ransom Research Center at the University of Texas – Austin. There was a 1920s electric theatre model that I had wanted to see for over twenty years.

As we travelled across country, I finally started a project that had been on the back burner since 2014; transcribing a handwritten diary of Thomas Gibbs Moses from 19131.  In case you had forgotten, Moses was the sole scenic artist for the Fort Scott collection and I had been restoring his landscape drops in Scottish Rite theaters for years.

This handwritten diary was but one of many that he referenced when compiling his final typed manuscript in 1931. As an undergraduate, I had created an index for both Moses’ Diary and his Scrapbook. The handwritten diary is part of Lance Brockman’s collection, and he had passed it off to me during the fall of 2014 with the hope that I would transcribe it in my “spare time.” Unfortunately, my work for the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center had taken precedence over the past two years and it had remained untouched – always placed on the corner of my drafting table. This little book had moved from my Bella Scena, LLC office in Cambridge to my “office house” in Bloomington, and finally to our new home in Crystal. For my travels, I took digital photos of each page, knowing that I would want to enlarge them on my iPad for viewing.

I watched the landscape from the back seat of a truck, carefully transcribing page after page of Moses’ almost illegible script. My iPad perched against the door handle and my laptop balanced on my knees, I slowly entered each word into my document. Moses had a tendency to not only misspell, but also use various spellings for the same word. The first twenty pages of transcription were difficult until I familiarized myself with his cursive and the phrasing. My first breakthrough was recognizing “the,” and “down.” Interestingly, if I didn’t think to hard about what I was doing, the sentences would occasionally just flow from the page onto my laptop.

1931 was a low point in Moses’ career, having been betrayed by many of those he had worked for throughout the past five decades and found himself financially stressed. He looks back over the years, yearning to paint for pleasure instead of a paycheck; he wishes that he were a more accomplished as an artist at the age of 75. His age and health were becoming a liability as he struggled to obtain work for the first time in his life. Up until then, it had he had an abundance of work. As I realized his struggle, both financial and internal, I thought that this might be an appropriate time to read his entries.

On January 14, 1931, he writes, “I am going to Milwaukee tomorrow with Megan and see if I can dig up some work as I understand there is a Masonic job up there or that is what I want to do as much as I can as I am more fitted for that.” He knew the type of painting that he did best, yet the Masonic work was drying up after the crash of 1929 and the Scottish Rite Masons were not paying their bills. Masons not paying their bills was nothing new and the scenic studios constantly waited in fear for a Valley to renege on a contract, or skip the final payment. For years, the Sosman & Landis Studio financed various Scottish Rite Valleys for terms of six years or more. But many Valleys were always late on the final payments, making both artists and studios to beg for what was contractually theirs.

Furthermore, as painted scenery work became scarce, the game of securing scenery installations became a cutthroat business for scenic studios. As a younger generation began to replace original studio founders and create competing companies in the 1920s, old alliances began to crumble. Gentlemanly agreements between studios during the first two decades of twentieth century ceased. Moses continued to seek work and studio space in both California and Illinois, finding plenty of “part-time” work without any of the full-time job security. During some of his darkest hours his family suffered from Scarlet Fever. On top of everything else, Moses writes in despair, “Still floundering along with little in sight, and the house full of sick ones.” My little case of Shingles paled in comparison.

This was a particularly difficult story to read for a variety of reasons, but especially in light of my former employer. As I transcribed Moses’ soul-wrenching entries, I sympathized with his desperation and overall sense of betrayal. He had worked as a scenic artist for over fifty years and now was either being cast aside for cheaper artists or taken advantage of by studio owners. Moses understood that his age was a liability, but there were no retirement plans. There simply was no safety net for aging freelance artists. So Moses turned to fine art, painting and trying to sell enough of his work to cover his ever-increasing bills, writing, “I am doing all I can to get some of my pictures out but it seems a hard job, no one wants to take a chance on selling them.”

Moses never joined the scenic artists’ union nor transitioned into painting for film. His career remained firmly in the production of painted scenery for the stage with skills that many no longer sought. Furthermore, he did not have the backing of a single company to ensure his retirement as Sosman & Landis became tossed about between shareholders. Moses only had a savings account for old age and that was rapidly diminishing after the 1929 market crash.

As I continued to transcribe the diary on my way to Santa Fe, I wondered about his contractual negotiations both in Santa Fe and Fort Scott. Did either of these Valleys pay their final invoices on time or were they part of the ongoing problem; one that would manifest into aged buildings with deferred maintenance?

To be continued…

Enjoy these scenes from the 18th Degree (Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry) Degree productions.  Have a wonderful Easter Sunday!

Once Upon a Time Never Comes Again

The peace I desperately sought in Santa Fe provided only a short-lived respite.

Unfortunately for me, there was an upcoming event at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center that I had hoped to avoid. However, I could not as it was my husband’s life long dream; he had combined his passion for music with mine for historic scenery in an upcoming concert. It would be perfect if only I were still working at the center and restoring the Fort Scott scenery.

Andrew Barrett approached the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center’s general director about a possible choral concert during February of 2016, scheduling it for February 2017. Andrew was being hired as the guest conductor for Singers in Accord and had proposed a unique theme for the concert – pairing historic scenery with appropriate song. At the time, he knew what the scenes looked like from my own personal records documenting the Fort Scott scenery. He had thoughtfully matched the artwork of Thomas Moses to the music of Eric Whitacre, Ola Gjeilo, Anton Bruckner, C. H. H. Parry, Paul Mealor, and other composers.

Obviously, I was no longer employed as Curatorial Director or leading the restoration work. During August 2016, he started to inquire about the feasibility of having restored painted scenes for his concert as originally promised by the general director during February 2016. He specifically emailed the general director, “Will there be stabilized and restored scenery hanging in the theatre by February 7, 2017, the date of our agreed dress rehearsal, or should we search for an alternative venue? I will need to provide an update at the next Singers in Accord board meeting on August 30.”

The general director’s response simply stated, “We believe the drops will be available, but we cannot make any guarantees regarding the February date. If that is a problem, I will certainly understand if you need to move the location of your event. I will probably know more next week.”

My husband was distressed that the whole point of the concert might not be there. He would comment, “ I envisioned this project when I still had an inside line to the project’s Lead.” In the March 2016 Minnesota Masonic Charities video during Grand Lodge, it showed my profile stating, “the nation’s leading historical scenery expert would restore the entire collection. “ No wonder why Minnesota Freemasons still believe that I am leading the restoration! For the record in case it is not perfectly clear, I had nothing to do with the restoration or selection of the individuals who are currently working on the project. Minnesota Masonic Charities mislead both the Grand Lodge officers and the membership of Minnesota concerning who would restore the scenery.

As the restoration continued to be delayed throughout the fall, I knew that the likelihood of restored scenes for my husband’s concert continued to diminish. I intimately knew how long it would take to restore each drop; they were rapidly running out of time to clean, stabilize and hang the necessary scenes for the concert.

It was after the general director’s August response, that I suggested my husband have a back up plan. I would help him create a slide show of high-resolution images from the Fort Scott collection of those same scenes, then if he were informed at the last minute that there wouldn’t be any restored scenery for his concert he would have a safety net. I suggested that he get the specifications for the projection screen and we could start planning as I knew there had been a continued discussion concerning where the screen would hang. Again after no response from the general director when my husband requested the specifics, stating that he was planning to use projections instead of scenery. I took matters into my own hands and directly contacted the theatre consulting firm; requesting the specifications and their advice for this particular event. They knew that my husband was simply caught in the crossfire and offered a whole range of solutions for digital projections during the concert.

Jump ahead to October, the day after I was guest speaker for the Forest Lake Lodge stated communication held at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center. They asked me to present on the design process for the complex and my involvement.

The day after, my husband again emailed the general director that as he would not be using historic scenery for the concert, Singers in Accord would use a slide show of historical images to accompany the concert. He wrote, “While I had originally been anticipating the actual collection, and the novel experience that would have brought, the digital approach allows us to be more seamless in our stagecraft, and to give the audience an up-close look at the details of the scenery without them actually having to leave their seats! This approach allows us to present a unique experience of choral music in a multi-media environment – something that is rarely done.”

Four minutes later, the general director responded, “I forwarded your request to the people working on the drops and asked them to prioritize the scenes you indicated. They started work this week and I believe there is a reasonable possibility the scenes will be ready. I hope to give you a further update on the actual drops by the end of next week.”

Enough with the empty words! By this point, I was less than a week away from departing for Santa Fe and the Scottish Rite photo shoot. I had never been so excited to leave town. It was perfect timing. I needed to leave behind the continued drama that constantly linked me to the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center and the Fort Scott scenery restoration. No matter how hard I tried, I could not escape the place and was constantly reliving the betrayal in my mind.

I stopped volunteering in the Scottish Rite library on Thursdays and had no desire to return to any Masonic event in Minnesota, regardless of my husband’s affiliation. I just wanted a six-month break from Minnesota Freemasonry as my heart needed time to heal and that meant leaving the state.

To be continued…

My Great Adventure has Begun!

I always have found comfort in song. Whether hymns, blues, jazz, opera, or Broadway musicals, my work and research are often completed to musical accompaniment. While painting, a tune constantly plays in the back of my mind and provides a subliminal direction. During the spring of 2016, I constantly found myself listening to one particular song from the Broadway musical “Little Women.” It was the lyrics sung by the character of Jo that seemed to give me the courage to return to work everyday, facing an ever-increasing stack of obstacles piled against my future. Every morning, I would listed to:

“There’s a life that I am meant to lead
A life like nothing I have known
I can feel it, and it’s far from here
I’ve got to find it on my own”

Although my position was being eliminated at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center, my work for the Fraternity was not ending. Regardless of where I was working, my studies continued to track down the origins of designs for degree productions and the men who painted the drops. I just needed to plan my next attack in regards to my continued research.

This passion had guided my entire career since 1989 and it was once again pulling me to the romance in the southwestern United States. Little did I know at the time that it was just the beginning of an incredible journey – one that would circle back to the Fort Scott scenery collection and the artistic career of Thomas Moses. It would eventually tie up many loose ends that I had started tracking down in 1989.

I desperately needed to visit Santa Fe again after the continued drama at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center; for me, the entire endeavor was an antithesis of Masonic philosophy. My husband and I once again found peace in the brilliant landscape and smells of sage in the southwest. In the evenings, we enjoyed performances at the Santa Fe Opera and continued our friendship with many in the area.

I first fell in love with Santa Fe during 2002 when I started the scenery restoration at the Scottish Rite. For two summers we lived in the Scottish Rite dormitories with our daughter, then a young child. I felt utterly at home in this region and began to plan our eventual retirement there.

There was also a business reason to return to Santa Fe that summer of 2016 as I was one of three contributors for an upcoming publication on the Santa Fe Scottish Rite. My essay specifically concerned the 1912 painted scenery collection created by Sosman & Landis Studio of Chicago. The scenery production at that time was under the supervision of Thomas Gibbs Moses who would soon be cast in the role of studio president. Later, he would paint the Fort Scott scenery on location by 1924, the year before he became a Mason himself in Pasadena, California. Moses had found peace in California, I found peace in New Mexico – especially near Taos.

During our visit, I finalized some of the full-color plates and figures that would accompany my chapter on the scenery, specifically working with our professional photographer Jo Whaley. Jo and I instantly recognized each other as kindred spirits and became fast friends, she having a background as a scenic artist in California. Now she was an internationally recognized photographer.

One of the images that we desperately wanted to capture for the book was a scenic effect from the fifteenth degree’s treasure chamber. Luckily, my husband stepped in as out first Scottish Rite model so that we would have something to reference when pitching our idea to the publisher.

Jo and I had wanted to do something similar when I planned my trip to Fort Scott for the scenery removal, but there had simply not been enough time for a full photo shoot. I wanted to closely document the removal and transportation of the Fort Scott collection, as well as its restoration and installation at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center; possibly resulting in a later catalogue to preserve the story for future generations. It ended up that I was the sole individual to document the Fort Scott project, inadequate lighting and all.

I recalled seeing the delight on the faces of my rigging crew as they assembled a variety of scenic illusions common to many Masonic degree productions, while at the Fort Scot Scottish Rite. This was a common occurrence when individuals witnessed this particular type of pictorial illusion for the stage. Even seasoned stagehands could not contain their excitement when viewing nineteenth-century stage effects. The magic was infectious; I wanted to capture these moments and preserve them in a book for the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center. Although it would no longer highlight the Fort Scott scenery, I now had another chance with the 1912 scenery in Santa Fe. Although this collection didn’t have the artistic provenance of a single artist, it was unique for a variety of other reasons – primarily being created during the first spike in scenery production by Sosman & Landis for the Southern Jurisdiction.

For the Santa Fe Scottish Rite book, Jo and I decided that we wanted to document all degree productions as initially intended in 1912; not as a contemporary representations of any current ceremonials used by Masons. We wanted to capture brief moments depicting what a Mason would have witnessed during an early-twentieth century Scottish Rite Reunion, complete with costumed participants, set pieces and hand props; planning a weeklong photo session during October 2016. This was something that I could now do as I was unemployed. The disappointment and devastation that I had encountered as Curatorial Director started to transform into relief. I was continuing on the journey that I had first started when I processed the Scottish Rite designs in the Great Western Stage Equipment Company found the Performing Arts Archives in 1989.

“I’ll find my way, I’ll find it far away.
I’ll find it in the unexpected and unknown.
I’ll find my life in my own way, today.
Here I go, and there’s no turning back
My great adventure has begun.”

To be continued…

Fools Give You Reasons, Wise Men Never Try

There is something horrible about Shingles, but there is something even worse about lying in misery and contemplating unemployment after working your tail off for the past two years. We had purchased a second home to get closer to my job, not having had the option to take the time off and completely move; I was faced with an endless parade of deadlines at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center.

I had never been let go from any position before and my husband and I were worried about making two house payments, our oldest child in college, and no longer having my own business. I would re-enter the work place with nothing, not even a list of my accomplishments for the past two years as my name was being systematically erased from all of my contributions other than the lodge room painting.

On July 7, 2016, at 10:00AM, I walked into the CEO’s office for my scheduled meeting. He was sitting behind his desk with the head of Human Resources sitting across from him, notebook in one hand and pen in the other.

With his hands folded, the CEO gestured for me to sit. He smiled and said, “Well, I never like to draw these things out. I’m letting you go.”

“Why?” I asked. “Does it matter?” he responded.

“Well, I would like to have a reason,” I insisted, “as people will ask why I am no longer working here and I would like to be able to give them the reason.”

The CEO chuckled, “It really doesn’t matter, I simply eliminating your position.”

“What explanation can I give people when they ask why I am no longer the Curatorial Director at the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center?”

“Just tell them that we don’t need any of the skills that you have to offer anymore.”

I was shocked at his rationale. “In your time of need,” I continued, “I dropped everything to help the Freemasons of Minnesota during the planning and construction of this entire building – subsequently closing my business.”

“Well no one told you to do that!” he interjected.

“I was devoting every minute that I had to this project and simply couldn’t accept any other business, even postponing existing contracts indefinitely. Furthermore, you offered me a staff position, not a temporary role until the center opened. I moved to the cities to help the Freemasons of Minnesota in their time of need. It is only fair that they help me get back on my feet now.” We agreed to the terms and conditions of my termination.

The following week, I received my official letter eliminating my position, solely signed by the CEO; it did not include any of termination conditions we discussed. I shouted to my husband in the other room,” You won’t believe this! He couldn’t even be honest about letting me go!”

My husband frowned while reading the letter and then said, “But he can’t do that!”

“Well, apparently he can,” I answered. My only option was to leave with my head high, not make a ruckus, and try to forget what had turned into a nightmare job. Something would come up; it always does. However, I might need a break from the Fraternity, especially Freemasonry in Minnesota.

To be continued…

A Final Visit to Scenery Storage

On Monday, June 27, 2016, I visited the Fort Scott scenery storage unit in Bloomington, Minnesota. Little did I know at the time, but this would be the last moment that I would see the collection until after it was hanging in the Ives Auditorium. The restoration start date was currently on hold, waiting for some final construction delays in the theatre space.

After the Grand Opening, my new task was to take stock of the rolled scenery tubes and battens, verifying where the Ready Labor crew had placed them during November 2015. I would create a document noting the placement of each tube and the batten locations for future reference. My mural painting assistant was there to help shift any scenery due to my back injury. We stopped by the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center for her to run in and get the keys from the general director, as he had forgotten to pass along the three storage unit keys at the opening.

While visiting the storage unit that Monday, I noticed an extremely sore area on my upper shoulder; this was in addition to a swollen eyelid and low-grade fever that had instantaneously appeared the day before. I felt absolutely miserable while opening up the doors at the storage unit.  Upon inspecting the tubes, we noted Asian spotted beetles throughout the space, little dots of black piled up in corners and scattered across the muslin covers. This was not a good sign.

About the time that we noticed the bugs, a fellow scenic artist stopped by. She was visiting the Twin Cities, but had been unable to attend the grand opening. I suggested that she stop by the storage unit while I was working. I wanted her to meet my painting assistant and see the entirety of the Fort Scott collection, neatly tucked away into my custom-designed storage system.

As my shoulder pain continued to worsen, I asked my friend to see if had she noticed a bug bite or sting mark. “I would have a doctor look at this soon,” she suggested, “it looks pretty bad.” I agreed with her, saying, “We can always finish this later as the restoration start date isn’t even scheduled yet,” and sent them both on their way.

I was diagnosed with Shingles. Finally my stress had manifested into a physical condition; I was a prime candidate and the doctor pointed that out. “You have got to slow down,” she said, “Just go home and take some time off from work. I know that this prescription is often given to those over 50, but we might have caught it early enough for it to really work on you. ” I was flabbergasted with her diagnosis and picked up my prescription. “Really!?!” I told my husband, “On top of everything else, I need to get Shingles now?”

The final series of betrayals I experienced at the grand opening of the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center had crushed my last my spirit and any hope that it would be a world-class research facility. It also suppressed any lingering enthusiasm for to work for the CEO or on the Fort Scott restoration project. I honestly knew that it was just a matter of time before I was let go and would never touch Thomas Moses’ paintings again; the future of the scenery collection was no longer in my hands.

The next day, I cancelled my afternoon appointment with the CEO emailing, “I will not be in today due to illness. Yesterday, I developed a fever and rash on my right eyelid and right shoulder. Today, I was diagnosed with Shingles and placed on a prescription for Acyclovir. I have scheduled a follow-up appointment for this Thursday afternoon as [my doctor] was concerned with the possible complications for my vision. I will keep you posted regarding my recovery and return to work.”

Two days later on June 30 at 8:35AM, the CEO responded to my email, inquiring about a possible date for a future meeting, “I hope you are recovering from your bout with shingles. I would like to meet with you in my office on Thursday, July 7 at 10 am.  Will you be able to meet at that time?”

To be continued…

It’s the CEO’s Way or the Highway

 There were two different ways to restore the Fort Scott scenery collection: My Way and the CEO’s Way.

My way divided the entire scenery restoration into phases, creating a training ground for young artisans while simultaneously restoring the historical scenery and preserving it for future generations. I estimated that it would take two years to restore the entire collection onsite, using this opportunity as both public relations for Minnesota Freemasonry and an international destination for restoration training.

As previously noted, I was adamant that the scenery be restored onsite and immediately hung as the condition of restored scenery deteriorates if excessively handled after cleaning, stabilization and repair; this is why I insist on onsite restoration projects and not restoring scenery in the convenience of my own Minnesota Studio. Transporting restored scenery harms the painted surface, creating wrinkles and other apparent damage to the stabilized areas. Furthermore, once the painting is restored, the original top wooden battens are installed, the drop hung, and then the bottom battens are attached. The bottom battens are attached last, after the drop is hanging, to pull out any remaining wrinkles and make the drop appear as if it were brand new.

The CEO’s way to restore the Fort Scott scenery collection was to move the drops from the Bloomington storage facility to a warehouse offsite, restore numerous scenes, transport them to the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center and quickly hang as many as possible. Additionally, he was adamant that attaching wooden battens was too time-consuming and an alternative should be found for the installation.

My experience of restoring over five hundred scenes demonstrated that there were no short cuts during a restoration project. Restoration on the cheap and quickly done, results in the destruction of entire collections. He would have to locate a group of individuals to hang the historic scenery “his way” as I refused to compromise the artworks of Thomas Gibbs Moses.

Enter the museum team of Mia Schillace-Nelson (Outhouse Exhibit Services Founder), Paul Nelson (Outhouse Exhibit Services Construction Lead) and their freelance exhibit artist “Kimber” Lawler.  I first encountered Lawler in the early 1990s. Our paths haven’t crossed at all in the past two decades as my primary focus is historical scenery, restoration, and replication; hers is not.

She was working for Outhouse Exhibit services on the Ladd Museum exhibit at the same time I was working on the lodge room painting. Schillace-Nelson had brought Lawler over one day in late-April to say “hi” under the pretext of an opportunity for us to reconnect after two decades. At the time, they were both were extremely interested in my background of restoring Scottish Rite scenery. They inquired after the techniques that I had developed throughout the course of my career.

As usual, I was delighted to share information about the materials and the various techniques. I love describing the restoration process as many individuals are unfamiliar with the dry pigment paint system, archival cleaning products, and the restoration variables.

Remember, by this point, I had estimated the materials and labor expenses for the entire Fort Scott scenery restoration, emailed lists of supplies for the general director to order, and identified the entire crew – one that was still on hold and waiting for a definitive start date.

When they asked how I restored the scenery, I wish that they had taken notes for the sake of the Fort Scott collection.

To be continued…

Another One Bites the Dust

I tried to leave sorrows behind me when I left the building at the Grand Opening of the Minnesota Masonic Heritage Center, understanding the significance of having been the only staff member who had not received a name tag. I wondered when I would get called into the CEO’s office for the termination of my employment. That weekend, I reflected on the Grand opening, and looked at the ceremonial program and museum program. I didn’t even want to share these with my children or parents. I was being officially erased from the center’s history.

I hadn’t connected all dots since my return from Fort Scott last December 2015. It was crystal clear now and I felt like an idiot. What were the CEO’s future plans and what was he intending to do with the Fort Scott scenery? Then realization dawned. That’s why he delayed the scenery restoration too; he was looking for someone else to restore the scenes and finally found someone else to do it.

I recalled a meeting early that spring where I was discussing the selection and hiring of individuals for the restoration crew. At that time, the CEO asked why I couldn’t just train in a crew to restore the collection and walk away to do other things. “It’s not that easy,” I responded, “Every drop is different. There is not set way to restore every single scene.” I then went on to explain that each drop had developed a unique shape and overall condition throughout the course of its life. The fabric would stretch in odd ways, the binding could break down, the paint could loose its vibrancy, or many other things would alter the restoration process.

Furthermore, there was the netting dilemma. All of the theatrical suppliers in the United States purchased from the same looms. The netting that we now buy is nothing like what was used a century ago. The knots slip and have to be hand-checked prior to gluing to the cut center. If the slipping knots are not sewn to prevent movement, the entire scene can sag over the course of a few months. “THAT is a nightmare,” I exclaimed, “but it only ever happened once; I learned my lesson.”

I was in the middle of two restoration jobs – Santa Fe and St. Paul during 2002. When I returned to St. Paul after doing a phase in Santa Fe, the entire treasure scene cut drop was sagging. The netting reminded me of silly putty. We had to re-net the entire scene, much to the detriment of the painted surface. I realized that it was the slipping knots. From that point on, I hand checked every single knotted intersection over yards and yards of netting. It is time consuming – but crucial to the restoration process. It’s not a problem for new scenery as there isn’t a single contemporary production that hangs for several decades.

On top of that, I expanded, there is a specific way to stretch the netting on a historic drop and it is not like stretching netting on a new piece of fabric; you have to gauge the thickness, the weave, the age – it’s hard. If you stretch it too tight, the painted surround puckers. If you don’t stretch it enough, the center sags.

Both the CEO and general director knowingly nodded at my description. “Well how do all the other restoration companies handle this problem?” they general director asked.

“Good luck finding another one,” I responded. “Most studios recommend replicas.” I explained that I was one of only two professionals specifically specializing in scenery restoration. I knew of only one other individual in the United States who was also a friend, Chris Hadsel, She specialized in small roll drops for Grange Halls or northeastern United States public halls. This was radically different that the dozens of counterweighted drops in Scottish Rite theatres that were my specialty.

“Look, “ I went on, “When Masons contact scenery companies or paint studios, the company representatives often explain that the drops are too far gone – the fabric is dry rotted. They offer to do a replica instead, but the composition NEVER looks the same as it is a different style of painting and paint medium.” I went on to give my standard speech explaining that exact replicas for these historical scenes are impossible due to the scarcity of dye and dry pigment colors, in addition to the rarity of artists well-versed in historical painting techniques. Contemporary scene painting methodology and paint application will never carry the same fluidity of motion, economy of brush stroke, or technical manner in which the original backdrops were painted; lacking the original artist’s sheer experience of working solely with the dry pigment paint system for his entire career.

A close approximation of the composition and painting techniques may be produced with certain accuracy, yet the technical expertise of contemporary scenic artists cannot compare with their predecessors. Contemporary scenic artists, no matter what their skill level or education, fail to deliver a product similar to scenic artists from the 1870s-1940s. Scenic artists often painted scenery 10-12 hours a day, six days a week, for 40-60 years. Their expertise is unequaled.

“Furthermore,” I went on to say, “This is why many scenic studios are unfamiliar with dry pigment painting to do a proper restoration. They recommend a painted replica, explaining that it will be cheaper than restoring the original.” I ended with, “If scenery restoration were cheap and easy, every Scottish Rite theatre across the country would have a restored scenery collection.”

“Can you replicate these historic scenes? “ the CEO asked. My first thought was, “What?!?” Then I promptly responded, “Of course I can, but even I don’t have the same experience as the original scenic artists.”

“You mean we could have painted new drops instead of restoring old ones?” The CEO insisted. Everything stopped. “Oh my God,” I thought, “he just missed the whole point of my conversation; furthermore, he has no idea that I am an accomplished scenic artist.”

I took a deep breath and calmly said, “Look, the whole point of designing a space to accommodate historic scenery is to have the paintings of Thomas G. Moses on display and not those of a contemporary scenic artist. We want to hang fraternal heritage for future generations to appreciate, not make a copy.”

I went back to my office where Jean Montgomery was working in the library. “I can’t believe it!” I shouted to down to the basement from the top of the stairs. Descending, I continued my rage, “They are looking for someone else to restore the scenery and they think I’m too stupid to realize it!”

I sat on the bottom step peering through the railing and said, “They actually think that there are a whole slew of people doing scenery restoration.” Then I sat up a grinned, “ Well, they’re going to have a hard time finding someone who knows what they’re actually doing.”

“Ya think?” Jean responded.

To be continued…