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Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

If you need a good belly laugh, this may be the post you want to read. Horace Hervey Buell was the father of scenic artist Mable Buell and husband of scenic artist Nina Giles Buell.

Born in New York in 1857, Horace was one of four boys. He had an older brother that was three years his senior (George K.), and two twin brothers that were his junior by two years (Walter and Warren Cyrus). Remember the name W.C. Cyrus when you get to the second newspaper article.

When he was quite young, his father (Cyrus Augustus Buell) left to fight in the Civil War. A hatter by trade, he returned to civilian life to run a hat shop in Albion, New York. In 1870, the Buell family moved to Wabaunsee, Kansas. The 1870 census listed Cyrus as a farmer, but he soon returned to his former profession as a hat merchant.  By 1875, Horace was sent to live with his uncle in Brooklyn, New York, working as a barber. Five years later in 1875, Horace returned west, still working as a barber and living with his family in Manhattan, Kansas. By the early 1880s, Horace opened an art store in Topeka. After experiencing only mediocre returns, he set his sights on better opportunities in Chicago. By 1882, he was married to Miss Nina Giles. Two years later, Horace made headlines in newspapers across the country – not for his art, but for his antics. 

In 1884, he is low on funds and decides to save eight dollars by mailing himself in a wooden crate, C.O.D.  This story is published and republished at the time. Over the decades the story of Horace H. Buell continues to pop up in newspapers here and there; the tale outlives the memory of Buell as a scenic artist. It is well worth reading.

Here is one version published in the “The Garnett Republican (30 May 1884, page 8):

“A Strange Journey.

Truth is often stranger than fiction, and the following proves the saying: Residents of Topeka will remember that a few years ago a young man named Horace H. Buell arrived in Topeka and opened an art studio, but finding that his efforts to gain a reputation and a living were not as successful as he wished, he left the city and went to Chicago. There he became a Pullman car conductor and eventually married, our informant thinks, a relative of the Pullmans. At any rate he was in Chicago last Thursday and wanted to go to Manhattan, but didn’t have the funds to pay for a ticket. He at length determined to go as express matter, and with this in view, arranged a box in which he could sit quite comfortably, and he could, if necessary, release himself. He then went to the express office and left an order for a wagon to call at a certain address and get a box which he billed as from H. H. Buell to Horace Buell, Manhattan, Kas., and directed that it should be sent and the charges collected at Manhattan. His scheme worked perfectly. The box was taken to the depot, weighed and put abroad the cars, and then the adventurous Kansan was so en rout to his old home by the Blue. Once an express messenger suspicioned that something was wrong and said he was going through the box, but he changed his mind. The box weighed 247 pounds, and at Kansas City Buell heard a voice say, ‘I believe I’ll let this box lay over.’ But fortunately the strange freight was re-loaded, and at 1:27 o’clock Saturday morning was thumped out on the platform at Manhattan. All had gone well so far, and Buell was congratulating himself o the success of his scheme, but when the last jolt of the box was over, and he was ready to take an active part in the strange journey, he discovered that the box was lying bottom side up, or so it was impossible to work the release. He therefore waited a more favorable opportunity, expecting it would come when he had been tumbled into the express office. Fate was dead against him, though, for when the box was placed in its position to remain until delivered in the morning, the occupant found himself standing on his head and unable to assume any other position. The express agent, having all his goods in the room, then proceeded to ‘check up’ and used the box for a table. The unfortunate victim of his own ingenuity was forced to listen to the satisfactory ejaculations of the agent, who seemed to require a long time to complete his work. At length, being unable to bear it any longer, Buell yelled, ‘How much longer is it going to take you to check up?’ The agent was frightened and fled to another room, but soon reappeared with a friend, and two revolvers were leveled at the offending box. The agent supposed a robber was hidden in it, announced his intention of perforating it, whereupon Buell begged to be released, when he promised to explain all. The men at length consented, and a sorry looking individual, a satchel and the remains of a lunch, were polled out on the floor. Buell paid the express charges, $9.25, and thinks he succeeded fairly well – in saving the difference between that amount and the fare, which was $17.55. [To put this in perspective, today’s equivalent of $17.55 is about $450 today]. Buell organized a company under the name of the Topeka Zuoaves, and was quite well known here. At one of the masquerades given in the skating rink he took first prize for the best character.”

A few months after the incident, Buell explains himself in the “Holton Recorder” (12 July 1884, page 1). Under the title “New Way of Travel,” the article reports, “My name is Horace Buell, and I have relatives living in Manhattan. From my earliest youth I have displayed wonderful talent for art. Believing that there was a field open for me in the larger cities I sought a situation, and for a time was successful, but I lost my health, and being severely distressed and in need, resolved to return home. Too proud to write for means to defray my expenses, I hit upon the plan which has landed me to-night, thirty-six hours from Chicago. The way I managed to get billed out of the city was very easy. I called t the main office and told them I had a box which I wished to ship to Manhattan, giving instructions where it could be found, I then packed myself in it and was soon speeding westward. Once I was left in the car for some time alone, and had a chance to stretch myself. Before entering the box I supplied myself with sufficient crackers and cheese to sustain me for fours days, and suffered only for water. I don’t feel much worse for the trip, it was an easy matter to brace myself in the box so I would not be injured.”

There is only one question that I would like to ask Buell: “Did you tell your wife?”

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

I explored the life and career of scenic artist Mabel A. Buell in the past two posts.  However, the Buell family’s history is complicated and will take a few more posts bit to unwrap. This is the most interesting theatre family that I have encountered to date, so I am going to take a little time and enjoy myself. The tales surrounding Buell’s would be an absolutely fascinating book; maybe even a miniseries as there is romance, death, intrigue and kidnapping.

To start with, it was a theatrical family entirely composed of scenic artists: Horace H. (father), Fannie “Nina” Giles (mother), Horace C. (son) and Mabel A. (daughter). The patriarch was a well-known scenic artist, assisted by his wife, son and daughter.  The son was initially selected to follow in his father’s footsteps, but passed away in 1916 at the young age of 24.  Although the patriarch of the family actively once discouraged his daughter from the profession, she had also assisted him on projects when he needed an assistant and was an accomplished artist in her own right. Regardless of her father’s warning, Mabel became a scenic artist and was actively working the year her brother passed.  In fact, in 1916 both Mabel and her mother were listed as scenic artists in the Sioux City Directory, working at the Princess Theatre. There is no indication of what their father is doing at that time, but in 1912 he was working and living in Florida. 

Horace Sr. passes away in 1919, and both mother and daughter now constitute the Buell Scenic Company. In many newspaper reports, they explain the desire to continue the Buell name in the scenic art world, an acceptable rationale for two women running a scenic art business.  Mabel makes the paper as a petite pretty blond who holds a union card and works just as hard as the men who dominate the world of scenic art.  The mother is listed as head of Buell Scenic Company and becomes a member of the Vaudeville Artists’ Club. 

In 1923, the Mabel marries Herbert Schulze, also a scenic artist and designer, but a sickly one with a heart condition.  Three years later, the mother “retires” from heading Buell Scenic Company, but is still involved as a consultant. Interestingly, she retires the same year that her granddaughter Joy is born to Mabel and Herbert. My guess is that she opted to stay home with her granddaughter so that her own daughter could keep working. The family of four – mother, daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter –  all live in Manhattan during the 1930s.

It is in the mid-1930s, however, that the daughter meets Yates Stirling, Jr., a retired admiral. She begins working with him on several projects, including providing illustrations for his various publications, such as “Sea Duty: Memoirs of a Fighting Admiral.” They also partner to create the musical comedy “Sea Legs.” Then, as now, some of society has a hard time believing men and women can work together and maintain a platonic friendship without some sort of romantic liaison, so there is speculation that the two were having an affair. Whether this is the case or not, really doesn’t matter, but Stirling’s family had a problem with it.  But is in the in 1930s and 1940s that Stirling becomes an increasing involved with the Buell family, going on extended absences with the three Buell women to work on his writing projects. This is at the same time Mabel’s husband, Herbert Schulze, nears the end of his life. He passes away in 1940 at the relatively young age of 48. At the time of his passing, Schulze was no longer living in the Buell home, but lodging with others and still working as a scenic artist. Other than a heart condition listed on his WWI draft card, there is no indication of what caused his early departure.

Stirling’s relationship with the Buell’s only became a problem because of his children. His adult children were not happy with his new friendship and the time spent with the Buell family, to the extreme. There is all sort of drama revolving around his activities at the Buell’s and the reported disappearance of the admiral. In fact, when he left with the Buell’s to work on another publication in Florida, his children reported him missing and hired a detective. After Stirling requested that more personal items be shipped to him in Florida due an extended stay, the children broke into the Buell’s home and left with their father – who was in his 70s at the time. During the home invasion, 18-years-old Nina Buell was injured in “a scuffle with the admiral’s offspring” (“Tampa Bay Times,” 15 May 1946, page 11). Other reports proclaim that her injury occurred after she pulled a gun on the invaders and they were trying to disarm her, hence injuring her hand. Nina was even pictured in the newspaper with her granddaughter inspecting her injury. Charges against the Stirling children were filed and the drama continued.

Nina Fannie B. Giles Buell is a fascinating character in her own right.  Various historical records list provide a variety of names for her, including Nina G., Nina C., Nina B., Fannie G., Fannie B. and Fannie C. Buell; yes, they are one in the same. When Mabel and her mother were painting at the Princess Theatre in Sioux City in 1916, she was listed as Nina C. Buell. Upon her passing though, newspapers remembered her as Nina Giles Buell and her position as “Former Scenic Firm Head” (Tampa Tribune, 31 Dec. 1947, page 2).  

“The Miami News” announced, “Woman Theatrical Designer Dies” (30 Dec. 1947, page 1). The “Post Standard” reported, “Palm Beach, Fla. – Mrs. Nina Giles Buell for many years the head of Buell Scenic company, theatrical designers of New York city, died here yesterday after a short illness” (Syracuse, NY, 31 Dec. 1947, page 1). The Jan. 10, 1948 issue of “The Billboard” announced, “Mrs. Nina Giles, head of the New York theatrical designers, Buell Scenic Company, December 31 in New York. She was a member of the National Vaudeville Artists’ Club” (page 42). Nina was not simply window dressing or doing the accounting for a scenic studio, she was a major presence in the company, both designing and painting; still associated with the company two decades after her retirement.

Nina’s obituary is indicative of her unusual life. I have always found newspaper obituaries fascinating.  Until you actually write one and submit it to the newspaper, it’s not an activity that one ponders. Having to encapsulate one’s life while contemplating length, and if an issue, overall expense. I have read thousands of obituaries to obtain little bits of information about others’ existences to gain little crumbs of truth. As the obituary is often submitted by a family member, typically they know how the dearly departed wanted to be remembered; what was really important to include about their life. On Dec. 31, 1947, “The Palm Beach Post” reported, “Mrs. N. G. Buell Dies in Resort (page 2).

Here is the article as it was written and submitted:

“Services for Mrs. Nina Giles Buell, former theatrical designer of New York, who died Tuesday morning at her apartment in the Paramount Bldg., will be held at 2 p.m. today at the graveside in Hillcrest Cemetery. The Rev. Ryan Wood, pastor of the Memorial Presbyterian Church will officiate.” I am going to stop here to point something out. Buell dies on Tuesday morning, the announcement and burial is the next day.  I had no idea that a burial could occur that quickly, when considering the process that I have encountered in the past. This suggests that there was no need to plan a memorial service for friends or family coming from afar. Continuing with the article:

“Mrs. Buell, who would have been 82 in a few days, died after a short illness. For many years she headed the Buell Scenic Co., and after her retirement from active work in 1926, she was consultant to their daughter, Mabel Buell, a widow of Herbert Schulze, scenic designer, who uses her maiden name professionally.

“Mrs. Buell, her daughter and the latter’s daughter, Joy, came to Florida in April 1946, after spending some time in Miami Beach. They have made their home in Palm Beach for more than a year, where Miss Buell has been engaged in doing murals for a number of clubs.

“Mrs. Buell was born in Milwaukee, where her father was the second white man to settle in the community. For several years she worked for the Presbyterian Board in slum work in Portland, Ore. Later conducting a kindergarten which the board built for her in Mexico near the border.

“She was married to Horace Hervey Buell, portrait and mural artist.

“Their children, Mabel and Horace Cyrus Giles Buell, who died in 1916, were born in California, and when they were both quite young the family went abroad, living in London for two and a half years.

“After Mr. Buell’s death in 1919, Mrs. Buell who managed his business affairs and her daughter devoted themselves to their scenic business for years, and did sets for many shows, including a number of Schubert productions.

“Mrs. Buell was a lay member of the National Vaudeville artists Club, did many sets for vaudeville acts and was beloved by the profession.

“Though there are many nephews and nieces in California, immediate survivors include only the daughter and granddaughter.

“Friends who wish may view the body from 10 a. m. to 1 p. m. today at the Mizell-Simon Mortuary.”

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

The following article was written by Henry T. Parker and published in “American Magazine” (August 1923, page 68). Keep in mind that this was the same year that Sosman & Landis closed their doors. Times were certainly changing.

“A Successful Woman Scenic Artist.

When Mabel Buell was a child of two, and barely able to crawl about a California beach, she grasped a stick and began to draw figures bigger than herself in the sand. When she was ten she painted two heroic tapestries for a hotel in southern Florida. When she was a year older she “splashed” huge signs over a theatre curtain in Savannah, Georgia, and when she was fifteen she climbed an eighty-foot ladder to a ‘bridge’ above a theatre stage and began to paint her way down, rung by rung, to success, paradoxical as that may sound. To-day, at twenty three, she is called upon for some of the biggest productions along Broadway. She is the only woman scenic artist in America.

“Her success, she says, is due to the fact that she has always held to one ideal and has reused to be swayed from it by criticism, handicaps, or disappointment. Even from those earliest days on the California beach she knew that she could never deal in the miniature in art. She wanted only the heroic, the statuesque, the bigger-than-life-itself. But once did she try to evade the issue. Then, at the insistence of her father, she studied landscape and portraiture for two years in London.

“Scene painting is an exacting art. It calls for a physical strength and endurance that is not demanded in any of the allied arts. Many times, especially when one is working in stock, and one or more complete sets must be turned out each week, the scenic artist is called upon to work for thirty and forty hours at a stretch. And when one considers that every minute of each of those hours is filled with wielding a brush that weighs from five to eight pounds, turning the big windlass that raises or lowers your canvas, mixing one’s own paints, and forever considering the details of colors and lights that are involved, it is easy to realize that scene painting is not child’s play.

“I talked with Mabel Buell of the arduous side of her work, as she paused after ‘sweeping’ a sky line across a forty-foot canvas that was destined to be a back drop for a new production by the Coburns. Miss Buell looks all of five years younger than her confessed twenty-three. She is small, slim, and dainty, and her trim knickers and tailored smock were so bedaubed with pigments that she looked as though she should have been in a nursery, coloring cut-out dolls, rather than tackling the huge canvas that hung before here.

‘Hard work? Of course, it is hard work,’ she said; ‘but then so is everything else that is worthwhile. I am never so happy as when I am ‘way up here on my bridge with my paints, brushes and canvas. It is only then that I am really living my life as I first conceived it, and I know that I would be miserable if I couldn’t do it. I despise the detail of little work, and have ever since I was a child in pinafores. Making a set in miniature drives me to distraction and sometimes – even when I am in a hurry to finish a model to show to some manager or director – I have to quit and come up here in this atmosphere of bigness to think things out and get the right perspective.

‘But I do know that it is the so-called drudgery of the thing that turns most women against scene painting as a means of expression and livelihood. I have had hundreds of girls come to me and ask about my work and by what means they, too, might take it up and succeed at it. And they have all seemed highly interested until I have told them that the real scenic artist must of necessity do all or most of his own painting, then they have turned away.

‘It was simply too much for them, and very wisely, I presume, they have sought other fields more suited to their tastes. Not necessarily that they are afraid of so much of it and also of the handicaps that beset every woman who takes up scene painting as a profession, for there is, as always will be, a great prejudice against women in this field.’

‘It was probably the knowledge of this fact that, more than anything else, led my father to try and discourage me against it. Even to-day many theatrical managers are inclined to refuse to allow women on the bridge, and it is only there that one can work satisfactorily. The scenic artist naturally sees only part of his work at the time. The vast canvas is stretched out before him, and, unless he knows the exact scale on which he is working, the perspective is likely to go all wrong.

‘I have found many men, managers, electricians, stage carpenters, and others, who have been only to glad and willing to help me in every way. That is – as soon as they learned that I knew my business and was competent to do the work for which I have been employed. But they must be convinced, and therein lies the hardest part for the girl who is trying to break into the game. Of course I learned much from my father, though even he was more often than not loath to have me around. It was my brother who used to act as his ‘paint boy,’ cleaning his brushes and mixing his paints. But I made the most of my opportunities. I hung around and picked up what information I could, and always kept in mind that some day I was going to climb to the bridge and do scene painting all by myself.’”

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1923, the “Olean Evening Herald” reported, “Mabel A. Buell, the only woman scenic artist in New York, claims that scene painting is ideal work for the woman artist, combining aesthetic progress with a large salary as few other artistic professions do” (6 June 1923, page 9).

Today I explore the life of Mabel Buell (1896-1982) as she became a popular subject in 1918 newspapers. As I am covering that year in the life and times of Thomas G. Moses, this seems like an appropriate moment to add a little historical context about female scenic artists.  On March 10, 1918, the “Buffalo Times” reported that Mabel Buell was “a noted scenic artist with the Bonstelle Company and has a host of friends in New York” (page 30). The “Buffalo Courier” added that she was “one of the few women scenic artists with the Bonstelle Company at the Star Theatre” (Feb. 17, 1918, page 7). However, Buell’s scenic art career began well before 1918. By 1916, both Buell, and her mother Nina C. Buell were listed as scenic artists in the Sioux City Directory, each working at the Princess Theatre and rooming at the Jackson Hotel. Mabel’s father, Horace H. Buell, was also a well-known scenic artist, but working and living elsewhere at the time. I will explore the entire Buell family in a few days.  However, Horace H. Buell passed away in 1919, three year after his son, Horace Jr., who was also a scenic artist.

The story of Mabel’s rise to fame was told to many newspapers over the years. She shaped her introduction to scenic art and training to fit with societal expectations. In 1922 the “Washington Post” reported, “Mabel Buell, still in her early twenties, petite and blond, is the last person one would associate with a big paint brush and scenery, yet this diminutive young woman is the only feminine possessor of a union card in the Scene Painters’ union, and is in fact, the only woman in the United States who is a real scenic artist. Miss Buell’s father was Horace Buell, one of the most famous scenic artists of his time, and as a small child Mabel learned from him the fundamentals of her art, for real art it is. When still a girl in her teens she assisted him when he was engaged in stock, and upon his death she undertook, on her own, to carry on the Buell name in theatrical history. A year ago she was a scenic artist in stock in Detroit with the Jessie Bonstelle stock company and last summer she was with Henry Hull in Dayton. She built and painted scenery for ‘The Squaw Man.’ But she considered her production of ‘Main Street’ one of he best works, for she admits it is not as easy to get all of Main Street, as it was pictured so vividly in the book, on the stage. Any day you may care to you will find her high on the bridge on the stage in the Manhattan opera house where she has her studio, brush in hand, working industriously on some set. Miss Buell is one of the few independent scenic artists who possess their own studios, and the nicest thing about her is that she is delightfully naïve and cannot understand why there is anything unusual for a woman to be in her profession. Her production of ‘Main Street’ has been highly praised for retaining the correct atmosphere of the book” (March 12, 1922, page 3, in “Much on the Job”).

A few years earlier, on Dec. 31, 1919, “The Newark Advocate” featured Buell and mentioned some of her early history (Newark, Ohio, page 9). The article reported, “To be a scenic artist at twenty-one with five years’ experience to one’s credit at an early age is something unusual for anyone, but when the person is a slight little blond girl one simply has to investigate. This is what the investigator finds out about Miss Mable Buell and the unusual career in which she is steadily climbing to fame and fortune. She lives in New York City and has been creating scenery for stock companies and vaudeville teams since she was a slip of a girl, sixteen. She thinks perhaps she inherited her ‘work,’ for her father, Horace Harvev Buell, was well known for his scenic and portrait painting in New York and elsewhere in the country. When in London doing scenery for a theatre there Mr. Buell sent his little daughter to an art school to study. Mabel was but a tiny kiddie then with short skirts and long pig-tails but she studied in the same class with, grown-up professional artists.”

There is an interesting parallel between Mabel and an earlier female scenic artist, Grace A. Wishaar (1876-1956) who also made a splash in the scenic art world during the 1890s. Mabel was born the same year that newspapers began mentioning Grace Wishaar.  I explored the life of Wishaar almost three years ago (see past posts 284 to 290), the petite brunette who eventually married world-class chess champion Alexander Alekhine. Wishaar was also born and started out on the West Coast, but began painting in New York at the turn of the twentieth century. The “Buffalo Morning Express” interviewed Wishaar on April 4, 1901 and published an article about her (page 3).  Under the heading, “She is a Scenic Artist,” the article reported that Wishaar had recently arrived from Seattle and was working as the scenic artist Frank D. Dodge. After describing her artistic journey, Wishaar was quoted as saying, “They told me at half the theaters in town that a woman couldn’t do it.  Any way, I have proved one woman can.” Almost two decades later, Buell had made a similar journey, but she had a head start in a scenic art family. In 1923 when questioned about women in the scenic art field, Buell responded, “For there is, as always will be, a great prejudice against women in this field” (“American Magazine” page 68)

Regardless of either woman’s accomplishments, each was erroneously credited as the only female scenic artist in the country at the time, which was simply not the case, but that title it made headlines.  My research confirms that there were many more female scenic artists at the time. The only difference is that they evaded the printed record and were subsequently not included in history books.

By 1918, Mabel was pictured in the “Dayton Herald” on July 11, (page 7). Under her portrait was the caption, “Miss Mabel Buell. This scenic artist of the Brownnell Stork Players at the Lyric, is responsible for a beautiful piece of tapestry which she painted for ‘The Thirteenth Chair,’ this week’s attraction. Miss Brownell will donate this very artistic piece of work to the Red Cross Society next Monday.”

There were also personal interest stories about Buell. The “Dayton Daily News” noted, “Miss Mary Buell, the scenic artist, has a little collie dog, Sheamus, a most loving pet whom she has shaved so closely this summer that he actually thinks that he is a poodle, and wants to climb into your lap” (Dayton, Ohio, 14 July 1918, page 44).

Her Broadway credits for scenic design include “Fifty-Fifty, Ltd.” (Comedy Theatre, Oct. 27, 1919-Nov. 29, 1919), “Plain Jane” (New Amsterdam Theatre, May 12, 1924-Oct. 4, 1924), “Blackberries of 1932” (Liberty Theatre, April 4-23, 1932), “Blackbirds of 1933” (Apollo Theatre, Dec. 2-Dec. 1933), “Summer Wives” (Mansfield Theatre, April 13-18, 1936), “Sea Legs” (Mansfield Theatre, May 18-May 29, 1937), “Straw Hat” (Nora Bayes Theatre, Dec. 30, 1927-Jan. 1938), and “Lew Leslie’s Blackbirds of 1939” (Hudson Theatre, Feb. 11-18, 1939).

The 1930 census listed Mabel as an artist working, also painting in the interior industry. Her husband was Herbert H J Schulze (b. Oct. 30, 1891), also an artist, and listed as working in the picture industry. Schulze’s WWI draft registration noted that he was working for Gates & Morange in New York in 1917. At the time he filled out the draft registration, Schulze listed that for the past five years he had been under the care of a doctor for heart disease. The couple were married on Feb. 6, 1923 and celebrated the birth of their daughter Joy the next year. He passed away on July 23, 1940. At the time he was still working as a scenic artist for the theater, but lodging at another residence.

On May 6, 1937, “The Brooklyn Daily Eagle” reported “Rear Admiral Yates Stirling Jr., who retired a year ago as commandant of the Brooklyn Navy Yard, has interrupted his writings on naval matters to become a stage designer. Today he was busily at work in the studio of Miss Mabel A. Buell at 1828 Amsterdam Ave., Manhattan, with whom he has formed a partnership. In the set at which the two are now at work Admiral Stirling’s sea experience is standing him in good stead, for it is set for ‘Sea Legs,’ a musical comedy which opens with Dorothy Stone and depicts the exterior of a stream-lined cabin on the deck of a private yacht. ‘Flesh has been wiped out,’ said the Admiral, discussing the plight of the theatre today.’ All the training of talent is in the night clubs or in the stage shows of a few theaters, the movies have eaten up the seed corn. The harvest better be planted and Hollywood and the films should start up theaters to train talent for the coming dearth’” (page 26). In 1939, Buell provided the illustrations for Yates Stirling’s “Sea Duty: Memoirs of a Fighting Admiral” (New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1939). They had a very close relationship.

In 1941, Mabel visited her cousin, Mrs. P. M. Baldwin, in Las Cruces, New Mexico.  Of her visit, the “Las Cruces Sun-News” reported that Buell was an artist of New York City and collaborator with Admiral Yates Sterling, writer and speaker. The article elaborated, “Miss Buell is a portrait painter and does the frontispieces for Admiral Sterling’s books. Also those pen and ink drawings that head each chapter. She also does scenic painting and often works on stage sets for the largest theatres in New York” (16 Feb. 1941, page 3).

By 1947 and 1948, Mabel was living in west Palm Beach Florida, continuing her work as an artist until her passing. More on Buell tomorrow.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1918, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “September 1^st, I resigned as President of the Sosman and Landis Company which severs my connection with the firm after thirty-eight years of service.  I joined the New York Studios and expect to get a studio and an office to do business.”

Quick recap about New York Studios: Former Sosman & Landis secretary and treasurer, David H. Hunt, established New York Studios in 1910.  The firm was intended to be an eastern affiliate of Sosman & Landis.  Remember that Sosman & Landis established Kansas City Scenic Co. as a regional branch in the nineteenth century. However, the relationship between the two studios became strained after Moses became president of Sosman & Landis. Moss and Hunt had never really got along well, so I was quite surprised that Moses left Sosman & Landis to work at New York Studios in 1918.  It must have been quite bad for Moses at Sosman & Landis for him to pull the plug after thirty-eight years.  One has to wonder what was going on between the studio and the stockholders, as well as the company’s finances.

Of his new job, Moses wrote, “Marshall of the New York Studios and I had to hustle out for a studio.  Got an office in the Consumers Building.  I did two borders for the Chateau Theatre at the old place.  We tried very hard to buy out the old place, but they want too much money.  I was willing to make a big reduction on my claim, but it was no use.  We have to find a studio.”

Moses was referring to Fred Marshall, a scenic artist who would later represent the United Scenic Artists’ Association of New York City. Born on March 24, 1895, in Woodridge, New Jersey. He was the son of Louisiana native, Frederick Marshal, Sr. (b. 1851), an artist who specialized in mural paintings and contemporary of Moses. WWII draft records describe the younger Marshall’s appearance as 6’-2” and 190 lbs., gray hair, blue eyes and a ruddy complexion.

While looking for information about Marshall, I came across three interesting finds that are worth sharing to give some context to his role in American theatre history. The first was a 1936 Columbia University doctoral thesis by Charles Lionel Franklin, A.M., entitled, “The Negro Labor Unionist of New York, Problems and Conditions among Negro in the Labor Unions in Manhattan with Special Reference to the N.R.A. and post- N.R.A. Situations.”  The dissertation included interviews with Max Graft (Secretary of the U.S.A.A.) and Marshall (business representative of the U.S.A.A.). Graft was quoted as stating that the United Scenic Artists’ Association was “Organized in 1918. First it was explained that this local has jurisdiction over all workers in the Eastern United States. In its membership there were at one time two Negroes. One, a New York man who joined in 1918, dropped out in 1925. He was one of the first members. The other Negro member now in the union is a resident of Pittsburgh. In the local there are 339 members. The initiation fee is $500.00, $250.00 with application and $250. With initiation and yearly dues of $48.00.”  On August 29, 1936, Marshall explained that the union’s “Membership was open to “any person who follows any branch of work within the jurisdiction of the scenic artists crafts for a livelihood.”  Here is a link to the entire dissertation as it is certainly worth the read: https://dspace.gipe.ac.in/xmlui/bitstream/handle/10973/22326/GIPE-014119-Contents.pdf?sequence=2&isAllowed=y

Marshall was also interviewed in 1937 for the Emergency Relief Appropriation Hearings before the Committee on Appropriations, United States Senate Seventy-Fifth Congress, First Session on H. J. Res.361 The following is included from June 1937:

“Statement of Fred Marshall, United Scenic Artists’ Association of New York City.

Mr. Marshall: Gentlemen, I have nothing further to add to what has been said. I represent just the local in New York. We have three locals throughout the United States but I speak for New York. We had a membership of 490 in 1928, and we have some 320. We did try to discourage people from coming into the business. We closed our books and tried to discourage the schools teaching scenic designs, and so forth, as we did not see any advantage in bringing a lot of people into a business that had no future. But we did notice a pick-up since the Federal Theater started and we do dope it will be made a national institution, that the Government will make it a national theater. It is purely seasonal theater now with work for 5 months a years and the other 7 months of intermittently here and there; nut we do get about five months regular employment for all our people, and the other 7 months they do nothing; but we would like to see it become a national institution.” He spoke alongside Dorothy Bryant, Chorus Equity Association, Alfred Harding, Actors Equity Association, Fred J. Dempsey, International Alliance of Theatrical Stage Employees, and David Freed, American Federation of Musicians for Emergency Relief Appropriation (page 236). They were concerned with the Woodrum amendment. Dempsey explained that of their 30,000 members, only 15,000 have work.”

Finally, in 1939 Marshall was listed as part of the Amusement Committee for the NY Worlds Fair, as the business representative for the United Scenic Artists of America, Local No. 829, 251 West Forty-second Street, NY. He was mentioned in the New York World’s Fair Hearings before the Committee on Foreign Affairs, House of Representatives Seventy-fifth Congress, First Session on H. J. Res. 234 and H. J. Res 304 Authorizing Federal Participation in the New York World’s Fair, 1939).

The point that I am trying to make is that Marshall was a mover and shaker in the scenic art world, but as a young man of 23 in 1918 he was walking around New York in search of a studio for Moses.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1918, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “I made a lot of models and sketches for floats for Labor Day.  Hamilton came out from New York to superintend the work.  He always drops into a fat job somewhere.” Moses was referring working with William F. Hamilton again. The project was floats for the San Francisco Labor Day. The parade of 1918 focused on labor unions and worker’s rights, with eighty-seven unions participating in the parade that day, spread out over seven divisions.

It has been more than two years since I explored the life of scenic artist Will Hamilton and the short-lived firm of Moses & Hamilton. It is time to recap, because I think that working with Hamilton during the summer of 1918 prompted Moses to tender his resignation to Sosman & Landis by that fall. Hamilton may have reminded him that better opportunities were lurking elsewhere, and that Sosman & Landis was a sinking ship.

Moses first met Hamilton in 1892 when they were both hired to design the models and paint scenery for “Ben Hur,” the pantomime tableaux (see past installment 256 https://drypigment.net2017/11/22/tales-from-a-scenic-artist-and-scholar-acquiring-the-fort-scott-scenery-collection-for-the-minnesota-masonic-heritage-center-part-256-thomas-g-moses-painting-scenery-for-the-ben-hur-tableaux-and/).

Less than a decade later, the two established Moses & Hamilton in New York.  The partnership lasted until 1904 when Moses returned to Chicago to become vice-president at Sosman & Landis studio. When Perry Landis had to leave the company for health reasons, Sosman assumed many of the administrative and marketing duties.  Therefore, someone was needed to supervise all design, construction, painting and installation.

It had been difficult for Moses to leave in 1904. That year he wrote, “When I had to tell Hamilton, I almost gave in to stay with him, for he was awfully broken up over it.” Moses was leaving a good friend, a good crew, and good work, hoping for something even better upon his return in Chicago. This was especially difficult as the theatrical center of the United States was shifting to New York.

Moses & Hamilton had assembled a paint crew at the Proctor’s 125^th Street Theatre only three years earlier. Their staff included Ed Loitz, Otto Armbruster and Al Robert. Projects were plentiful, and consistently spread across three theatres: The American Theatre, Proctor’s Twenty-third Street Theatre, and Proctor’s 125^th Street Theater.  Thomas G. Moses was the lead scenic artist at the American Theater, William F. Hamilton was the lead scenic artist for Proctor’s Twenty-third Street Theatre, and Al Roberts was the lead scenic artist at Proctor’s 125^th Street Theatre.

For three years, Moses & Hamilton had more work than they could handle, producing scenery for opera, vaudeville, and other entertainments. Their work for Frederick Thompson at Luna Park included “A Trip to the Moon,” “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” “War of the Worlds,” and “Fire and Flames.” A few of Moses & Hamilton’s Broadway designs included “Under the Southern Skies” (Theatre Republic, Nov. 12, 1901 to Jan. 1902), “In Dahomey” (New York Theatre, Feb. 18, 1903 to April 4, 1903, with a return to the Grand Opera House from August to September, 1904), “The Medal and the Maid” (Broadway Theatre, Jan. 11, 1904 to Feb. 20, 1904, Grand Opera House, March 1904), “The Pit” (Lyric Theatre, Feb. 10, 1904, to April 1904), and “Girls Will Be Girls” (Haverly’s 14th Street Theatre, Aug. 27, 1904 to Sept. 3, 1904). Their work was sought after by Helena Modjeska, John C. Fisher, Henry Savage, and other well-known theatre personalities.

Even after Moses & Hamilton folded, the two continued working together on a variety of projects across the country until 1909. Moses remained at Sosman & Landis, while Hamilton worked at New York Studios, the eastern affiliate of Sosman & Landis. However, as business picked up at Sosman & Landis, it became more and more difficult for Moses to do any outside work with Hamilton.  Previously, he earned extra income by taking on these outside projects. Part of the perks was his being able to use the studio for night work. However, as Sosman & Landis took on more and more work, hours were extended into the evening, prohibiting outside projects.

So work slows down during the war years, and Hamilton comes around again. It was no coincidence that Hamilton shows up in July and Moses resigns as president of Sosman & Landis less than two months later. Moses wrote, “September 1^st, I resigned as President of the Sosman and Landis Company which severs my connection with the firm after thirty-eight years of service.  I joined the New York Studios and expect to get a studio and an office to do business.” On September 2^nd Moses recorded, “There was a big Labor Day parade and such a crowd.  Mama and I went down but were very careful not to get in the thick of it.” That was his first day of freedom from Sosman & Landis, his first day without the worry of being president at the company.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Early in 1918, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “We got a big contract for the Arena through Marshall Fields, but had to drop it as we were $500.00 too high.  The party who took the contract, stole my idea and when he completed the job, he found he stood good to lose at least $1,400.00, as the Arena was not good for the amount as the work was done for a lease.” That’s Karma working for you!

There is no way to know the exact event that Moses was referring to. However, I think it was the ice carnival and fancy dress ball held at the Chicago Arena on March 16^th. Officers from Camp Grant, Camp Dodge, Camp Custer and Great Lakes were invited to attend the event. The organization, the Satellites of Mars, was in charge of the carnival. Members from the Satellites were managing the carnival for the Fort Sheridan Association.

On March 17, 1918, the “Chicago Tribune” reported, “Society Shines with Satellites at Arena Affair. Brilliant Scenes Mark Function to Aid War” (page 3).   This may have been the event. The article continued, “Never has a society function had a more effective setting than had the fancy dress ice carnival and ball held last night at the Arena. The brilliant coloring of the skater’s costumes, on which the spotlights played, glinted over the great area of the skating hall, and from balconies and doorways hung fantastic lanterns and draperies of red, white and blue. A band of jackies marked the rhythm of the skating. The affair, patronized by almost all the people of fashion now in the city was given by the Satellites of Mars, under the auspices of the Fort Sheridan association, an organization which looks after the interests of soldiers and sailors. There were many soldiers present and several jackies. The proceeds, it is estimated, will amount to about $10,000.”

The Satellites of Mars was a relatively new high-society group, formed for charity. For the ice carnival event, Wallace C. Winter (219 South La Salle Street) was a member and managing the carnival for the Fort Sheridan Association (Chicago Tribune, 7 March 1918, page 15). It appears to have been short-lived, however, and primarily active during the war years.

Interestingly, in 1877 Prof. Hall of the National Observatory identified two extremely minute moons circling Mars (New York Daily Herald, 23 Aug. 1877, page 3). The satellites of Mars appear in the papers again in 1918; this time the term arises in conjunction with those in the military. On March 27, 1918, the “San Francisco Examiner” reported, “There should be, we think, a marked distinction between the uniforms worn by men in the trenches and those worn by non-combatant officers. As the former are inconspicuous, the latter should be vivid and slashing. A feature might be a couple of red moons, emblematic of the satellites of Mars” (page 2). This opinion appears in US newspaper across the country at the time.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1918, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “Received a nice order from Harrison Company, operating the Redpath Lyceum Bureau for their chatauqua work.”  The previous year. Sosman & Landis also delivered scenery for the Redpath Chautauqua Circuit.

In 1918, “Trench and Camp” reported:

“Mr. Marc Klaw was given the task of organizing four companies to play light comedies and four companies of vaudeville stars. ‘Turn to the Right,’ ‘Cheating Cheaters, ‘Here Comes the Bridge,’ ‘Inside the Line’ and other popular plays will be presented in turn at the various cantonments. The professional vaudeville companies will also make the rounds and the theatres will be offered to the men for the production of amateur dramatics or special moving pictures. There will be a small charge of from 15 to 25 cents made for professional entertainments. I addition to these theatres, and at both the National Army and National Guard camps, the Redpath Lyceum furnished entertainment. The general direction of all paid entertainments at the camps is in the hands of Mr. Harry P. Harrison, the president and general manager of the Redpath Lyceum Bureau” (22 Jan. 1918, page 7).

Written by Raymond B. Fosdick, Chairman of the Commission on Training Camp, the article explained, “Just after the war was declared last April, the President and Secretary of War, having these facts keenly in mind, asked me to assume the chairmanship of the newly appointed Commission on Training Camp Activities. The main job of this Commission is to apply the normal things of life to the hundreds of thousands of men in training camps. Besides the chairman, the members of the Commission are Lee F. Hanmer, of the Russell Sage Foundation; Thomas J. Howells, of Pittsburgh; Marc Klaw, the well-known theatrical producer; Joseph Lee, president of the Playground and Recreation Association of America; Malcolm L. McBridge, the former Yale Football star; Dr. John R. Mott, well known as General Secretary of the War Work Council of the Y.M.C.A; Charles P. Neill, of Washington; Col. Palmer E. Pierce, U.S.A., and Dr. Joseph E. Raycroft, director of physical education of Princeton University. It was our task, in the first place, to see that the inside of sixty odd army-training camps furnished real amusement and recreation and social life. In second place, we were to see to it that the towns and cities near by the camps were organized to provide recreation and social life to the soldiers who would flock there when on leave. In short, the Government took the attitude and is holding to it all along: ‘Over a million men are training hard to fight for the Government; the Government will give them, while they train, every possible opportunity for education, amusement and social life.’”

On March 8, 1918, the “Green Bay Press-Gazette” announced, “The work of entertaining the soldiers has been consolidated under the ‘Military Entertainment Council,’ of which James Couzens, of Detroit, is chairman; with Harry P. Harrison of Chicago, as chairman of the executive committee. Under the Council, the Chautauqua tents and Marc Klaw theaters all operate together, giving nightly entertainments. They will hereafter be known as ‘Liberty Tents,’ ‘Liberty auditoriums’ and ‘Liberty theaters’”(Green Bay, Wisconsin, page 13).

The attached newspaper clipping shows Camp Gordon’s Liberty Theater. Pictured upper left is Raymond B. Foswick (chairman of the war commission on training camp activities, in charge of all the theaters and director on the ‘off time’ of every sailor and soldier).  Pictured upper right are Sam Harris and George Cohan, partners in song-writing, who are working to making the programs of the army circuit a success). In the lower left is E. F. Albee, manager of B. F. Keith’s circuit, who is sending a number of his best acts to the cantonment circuit). In the lower center is Marc Klaw of Klaw and Erlanger bookers, who is arranging the productions for the Liberty theaters, and who is now engaged in training a number of comedy casts). Pictured lower right is Harry P. Harrison, president of the Redpath Chautauqua, who is also giving his time attention and performers to the entertainment of the national army men.”

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Part 986: Mother’s Day, 1918

 In 1918, Mother’s Day was officially five years old. Newspapers across the country recalled the historic event, reporting, “On May 10, 1913, a resolution passed the United States house of representatives and the senate commending Mother’s day for the observance by the house and senate, the president of he United States and his cabinet and other heads of government departments.” (Salt Lake Tribune, Salt Lake City, UT, 10 May 1918, page 16).  Another two Mother’s Days would pass mothers were honored with the right to vote. Passed by Congress June 4, 1919, and ratified on August 18, 1920, the 19^th amendment granted women the right to vote.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1918, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “A big outdoor spectacle for Mrs. Jonathon Ogden Armour at her Lake Forest home took up some of our time in June.  It proved to be a wonderfully effective show given by the Armour Company women employees.” The spectacle that Moses mentioned in 1918 took place at the country estate, Mellody farm, at Lake Forest.  Of the estate, the “Chicago Tribune” reported, “ It was built as a veritable fairyland for their daughter Lolita, who was a cripple in her youth” (17 Aug. 1927, page 5). At the turn of the twentieth century, the Armours bought a thousand acres in Lake Forest and built a home that was a showplace – Mellody Farm. The estate was an escape for their physically handicapped daughter who had been born with dislocated hips at birth. Their property at Lake Forest was intended as a fairyland for their daughter at first. It would take two operations, specialist from Europe and a series of plaster casts, but Lolita fully recovered. Mellody Farm remained in all its glory with acres of gardens, artificial lakes and ponds, flowing streams, miniature forest, deer parks, sylvan pathways, and fountains. And then there were the buildings that included marble and plaster Italian villas situated amidst rose gardens and cypress-lined terraces. This is where the big outdoor spectacle for Armour employees occurred in 1918. The estate remained open until 1929 when the market crashed, changing many people’s fortunes.

Mrs. Lolita Sheldon Armour, was the wife of well-know meat packer J. Ogden Armour. J. Ogden was the son of Phillip D. Armour who founded Armour & Co. and Armour Institute of Technology. He was born on November 11, 1863, the same year that his father founded the Armour organization. The senior Armour joined the packing firm of Plankington & Layton in Milwaukee and so thereafter the firm name was changed to Plankington & Armour. The “Chicago Tribune” later reported, “the growing city of Chicago appealed to Phillip Armour as the logical center of the meat packing industry. It is said that his business partner did not entirely accept this idea but agreed to establish a branch on Chicago. This branch was started in 1867 under the name Armour & Co. J. Ogden Armour, the elder son of Phillip D. Armour, gave up his senior year in Yale to join the Armour organization in 1883. He was put into business, at the bottom, so to speak, and learned it from the ground up. He was made a partner in the firm a year later. As his father’s health declined, the son assumed larger direction of the business. In 1900, his only brother, Phillip D. Armour, Jr., died, followed a year later by his father’s death. Then the sole management fell on J. Ogden Armour” (17 Aug 1927, page 5). The article noted, “O the hey-day of expansion and prosperity of American meat packing. Mr. Armour won one of the great personal fortunes in American industrial history. But in the period of post-war adversity, that fortune dwindled amazingly. What remains of it cannot be definitely estimated now” (17 August 1927, page 5).

He married Lolita Sheldon in 1891. Born in Suffield, Conn., she was the daughter of J. Sheldon. In her obituary, the “St. Louis Post-Dispatch” reported, “For many years Mrs. Armour presided over the family’s vast estate, Melody Farm, near Lake Forest. She was a patron of the arts and made several gifts to the Chicago Art Institute” (7 Feb, 1953, page 5).  Mrs. Armour passed away at the age of 83. At the businesses peak, Armour’s personal prosperity was conservatively estimated at $200,000,000 – today’s approximate of over 3 trillion dollars.

As I read articles about the Armours, it was the business practices of Mr. Armour that caught my attention. This stands in stark contrast with how many packing plants are run, especially in light of COVID-19 now. He followed the footsteps of his father, who made a paint of being the first person in his office each morning and the last to leave at night. He once explained, “I have no social ambitions. My ambition is to run Armour & Co. successfully and give a great many young men a chance to make their way in the world. My associates in the business are my close friends. If it weren’t for fun there is in the working with them and being with them I wouldn’t stay in business” (17 Aug. 1927, page 5). This mean that he rarely accepted social invitations, even when it was his wife who hosted a party at Mellody farm, or their summer camp on Long Lake in Michigan. Mrs. Armour was reported to have entertained magnificently, “but when her husband sees preparations going on for an ‘affair’ he scurries away to his club and plays whist or pinochle until he feels that he can go home without risk of meeting anyone loaded with small talk and fine clothes.”

In 1927, his employees recalled of Mr. Armour’s kindness to his employees. The “Chicago Tribune” reported “One of these related to a man who was discharged after fifteen years of service be a department head who said he was incompetent. The case was taken to Mr. Armour, who put the employee back in his old place. ‘If it took fifteen years to find out he was incompetent, you’ll have to worry along with home for the rest of his life,’ he asserted. In another instance accountants complained that an old packing house foreman refused to keep any books. Mr. Armour was asked to discharge the old-timer. ‘No,’ he said. ‘That foreman taught me all I know about his branch of business. If you can’t get figures some other way, you’ll have to do without them.’”  It is the respect and loyalty that seems to have been in many businesses; large plants with no connection to the packing employees. The 1918 spectacle thrown by Mrs. Armour was for the Armour Company employees. That same year, the “Buffalo Enquirer” reported, “When the United States entered the European war, Mr. Armour promptly urged that all his dealings in food-stuffs should be taken under control by the government, an unselfish attitude which caused critics of all capitalists to alter their views. Mr. Armour’s action has convincingly demonstrated that it is possible to be both a packer and a patriot. To tell adequately of the benefactions of the Armour family would require endless space. For years the Armours have spent a vast fortune on this kind of work, and the present Mr. Armour has continued giving millions of dollars to worthy causes. Loved by all his employees for what he has done for them, J. Ogden Armour is the type of American of which we are all proud” (The Buffalo Enquirer, 31 May 1918, page 10).

Image from Half Pudding Half Sauce Blog Spot (Feb 5, 2012).  It is part of a really lovely post about Melody Farm entitled “The Most Beautiful House Between New York and Chicago.” Here is the link: https://halfpuddinghalfsauce.blogspot.com/2012/02/most-beautiful-house-between-new-york.html?m=0

To be continued…