Category: Uncategorized

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

This is a long and contemplative post, so my apologies in advance. Quarantine is providing me with a little too much time to think, hence why I am painting so much; it silences the internal dialogue.

In 1918, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “Pitt and Stella dropped in on us from Trenton on my 62^nd birthday on the 21^st, and we all enjoyed their surprise and their visit.” Pitt was Moses’ eldest son who lived in New Jersey. Today, Moses may be considered three years away from retirement. In 1918, he was mid-career with no retirement in sight. What were the physical barriers of a scenic artist working in the early-twentieth century versus now?  

There are a few things to consider about the careers of scenic artists during the early twentieth century. The first is that they were not working on the floor, most painted on a vertical frame, one that moved up and down. Aged scenic artists didn’t have to crawl around on the floor to tack down a drop, or bend over to paint some little detail. They did not spend a lifetime having to suddenly drop to the floor or kneel for extended periods of time.

How long could scenic artists work during the late-nineteenth and early twentieth century? Until death. If you don’t have to kneel down, and the painting was at a comfortable height, why stop working? With no social security net, stopping work at any point might not be an option. Take away the physical obstacles and you could paint as long as your mind stayed sharp.

It’s pretty simple if you deconstruct the early-twentieth century painting process. What are the greatest obstacles that an older artist may encounter in a shop if they are above the age of 60? Kneeling, crouching and climbing. I am almost fifty-one years old and consider myself in pretty good shape. I am overweight, but I have remained active my whole life and spent hours working on the floor. Starting out as a dancer, the flexibility remains with me – so far. That being said, I can no longer crawl around on my hands and knees for extended periods of time anymore, without suffering the next day. I had a big epiphany a few months ago when I was painting an ad drop on a motorized paint frame at the University of Minnesota, Duluth. I was putting in an ungodly amount of hours, all by myself, yet did not feel the strain. Although I enjoyed what I was doing, the key for me was painting on a vertical paint frame. At every step of the process, my painting was at the perfect height.  No over-reaching, no crouching and no straining. Why would I need to ever retire if I could physically do the work I love?

There is another thing to keep in mind about the early-twentieth century American scenic studio that is really important– journeyman artists had assistants. That is not the case with every journeyman artist now, especially if you freelance and do not enjoy a permanent position. These young assistants, “pot-boys” (for filling pots of paint), would tack up the drop on a vertical frame, prime it and possibly base-coat many of the basic colors. If you were at the top of your profession, you may only need to show up to paint the complex part of scene, adding in flourishes to add dimension and sparkle. There are pros and cons to our industry at every step it seems.

The industry really began to change in the 1920s – and then completely shifted in the 1930s during the Great Depression.  Scenic artists noted the shift in their memoirs and in newspaper articles. Those who recalled the changing times at the end of their life detailed the cause of change in scenic art. A few years back, I read a series of letters between John Hanny and Dr. John Rothgeb from 1979. They are now part of the Rothgeb collection at the University of Texas, Austin. Hanny was hired at Sosman & Landis by Thomas G. Moses in 1906; he was 16 years old at the time and earning $6 a week. Although his salary increased five-fold in six years, by 1920, he and four other artists left to form Chicago Service Studios. That business only lasted six years. In 1926 Art Oberbeck of ACME studios of Chicago bought the studio. Hanny’s scenic art career was tumultuous at best beginning in the mid-1920s.

When asked by Dr. Rothgeb in 1979 to describe the era from 1900 to 1929, Hanny wrote the following:

“The depression of 1929 just about stopped the production of stage scenery – at least in Chicago. Road shows, musicals, etc. if any were being produced in New York and Hollywood. At this point all the studios disappeared but the scene painter just couldn’t disappear and had to become freelancers. There was no such thing as a steady job and the boys were hard put to find a day’s pay. Most of the following 10 years were really tough and 1929 proved to be a big change in our business, in purpose, in design, paint and other materials.” Hanny goes onto describe the emergence of a new theatrical supplier: “These were not Scenic Studios but rather combinations of carpenter and machine shops equipped to turn out booths, revolving turn tables, electrical effects and so on. The art was done in any available loft or vacant store space.”

This is when scenic art shifts from an art, to a craft; no longer does painted illusion drive the industry, it almost becomes an after thought of the production process. Yes, there are exceptions.

Hanny continues, “The biggest change to us painters was our paints. Luminal Casein was pretty well established as a very practical and useful medium so, it, and show card color was the norm. So – no more ‘dry’ colors – no more soup bowls or hot size, and of course no more paint frames. Drops, if any were painted on the floor.” THIS is a turning point in American scenic art. We abandon something that worked incredibly well for over a century. Not everyone transitions to floor painting, and pockets remain with scenic artists continuing to paint on vertical frames – just look at Hollywood. Scene painting continues to thrive there more so than anywhere else in the United States.

With the shift from painting on a vertical frame to the floor for live theatre and industrial shows, standard techniques and tools also changed. Hanny recalled, “The house painter’s sash brush came into use and many of the former ‘tools’ such as snappers and center-poles and others were no longer needed. The folding 2 ft. brass bound rule gave way to the yard stick.”

When this industry wide change occurred, Hanny was in his forties and Moses was at the end of his career. I cannot imagine watching my entire life’s work be condemned as “old fashioned” as much pictorial realism went out of vogue. Think of the theatre world that Moses entered in 1873. He was from the generation of scenic artists who chummed together on sketching trips to gather resources. The generation who took art classes together at fine art academies and garnered some of the top salaries in the theatre profession. This was all ending, faster than any of them realized.

We talk about evolution in the theater industry; technological innovations that herald change and produce ever-better products. Sometimes the only way to forge ahead is to forget the past.  If we don’t look back, we can’t lament what is lost. Such was the case when the golden age of American scenic art came to an end. 1880 to 1914 is what I consider the golden age of scenic art. Yes, I am sure there are many who disagree with those dates.  Much scenic art training simultaneously shifted to academic institutions around this same time. This created a very different atmosphere, a departure from scenic studios that began training sixteen-year-old boys.

As with everything, a massive shift in any industry affects the accepted standards. What we consider “beautiful” or even “acceptable” is sometimes based on the lowest common denominator. As with many things, “quality” work is relative to accepted industry standards and the times.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

Yesterday’s post concerned studio founder Gerald V. Cannon and his recruiting of scenic artists for the war department in 1918. He was part of a countrywide plan to mobilize scenic artists to paint camouflage for war purposes.  WWI signaled a new era of concealing military vehicles and weapons with paint. Some artists’ ideas included sky to blend with the horizon and fake waves on a traditionally gray battleship. Other artists specialized in dazzling camouflage, or a disruptive pattern that concealed the outline and form of a camouflaged object. WWI camouflage artists designed patterns that would make it more difficult to figure out a ship’s size, speed, distance and direction. Each country approached camouflage from a slightly different angle, relying on artists to create effective camouflage painting.

On April 4, 1918, “The Courier” reported, “Many American artists, following the sacrifice of their brothers across the sea have enlisted in this extraordinary service and joined the ranks of camoufleurs to help win the war. Appraised of the secrets of their European brothers and possessing no small genius of their own, our American camoufleurs are at work in Europe to fool the Hun as he has never been fooled before, and their secret is not yet out” (Asheboro, NC, 4 April 1918, page 7).

The was an interesting article published in “Trench and Camp” on Feb. 9, 1918, that I am including in today’s post entitled, “The ‘Real’ Camouflage’” (Fort Riley, Kansas, page 2):

“At first, camouflage was the clumsy emulation of nature. Boughs of trees, the thatch of houses and the beams of deserted buildings were used to shelter guns. But soon the fields were swept so clean that every tree became suspicious and every wreck of a house was bombarded by artillery and bombed by aviators.

Then came the camouflage that made the word familiar with a new and finely-descriptive word. Sign-painters and house-daubers were called to paint canvas in the colors of the earth. As this proved successful, scenic artists were assigned the task. Artists’ corps were mobilized and the work thoroughly organized until, final, it became practicable for an artillery officer to procure any camouflage he might desire upon a few hours’ notice.

All this called for counter-efforts, as interesting and as ingenious as the camouflage itself. How was an aviator to tell whether the ground below them was a deserted field or was canvas and framework concealing hundreds of guns? How could the artillerist known when he was wasting shell on a mound of earth of was shattering guns that had been the death of thousands? Something could be learned, of course, by careful observation and by ceaseless scrutiny of the front. Gradually, however, the armies have come to rely for the penetration of camouflage on the work of the aviators and of the mathematicians who study shell trajectories.

As the system is now developed, all armies have trained aviators who go up regularly with convoying battle planes to take pictures of the enemy positions. Their negatives, developed, enlarged and printed, are gone over microscopically by men whose proficiency in reading photographs is positively uncanny. We know it sounds unbelievable but here is an example of what numerous British map readers can do with these photographs: an aviator may come back with a picture taken at 20,000 feet. On the print the map readers know there is a hidden battery. They search for it vainly. At length they see on the print, by the aid of powerful magnifying glasses and infinitely small tracks. By following the course of these tracks, trained men figure that horses from the battery have been led to water, and they know that where the tracks end, elsewhere that by the watercourse, a battery may be concealed. They report. Guns are trained accordingly. The next day’s photograph may show a ruined battery. It seems a fairy tale, does it not, that the tracks of horses will show on a photograph taken from an aeroplane which is itself a scarcely discernible spot in the heavens?

But there were there were thousands of instances where neither horse tracks nor any other evidence of camouflage could be seen. Then it was that the British and French devised a trick which may now be described, inasmuch as it has been discovered by Germans. It occurred to a clever aviator that perhaps the Germans might be painting their camouflage with the naked eye and might not be using effects that would withstand a color screen. Accordingly some of the aviators made observations with different color screens before their lenses and were delighted to find that, in accordance with laws familiar to all photographers, the yellows or the greens had been “filtered out.” The result showed plainly where the German guns were hidden and led to an eye-opening bombardment. It was some days before the Germans found out what was happening and why their faithful camouflage had suddenly become so useless. But when they discovered the reason, the Germans very promptly countered by a device as simple as that British were employing: where an artist desired to get a general yellow effect on camouflage, he merely put on yellow glasses. The color that then appeared yellow to him was hideous to the naked eye, but it defied the color screen of the camera. This accounts for the curious futurist color effects scene in photographs of camouflaged tanks.

Now both sides paint and photograph through color screens, and a new method of camouflage will have to be developed.”

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

A while back I explored the career of Gerald V. Cannon, of Joy and Cannon Scenic Studio in St. Paul, Minnesota. Although the life of the firm was brief, each co-founder certainly made his mark on the world.  At the time that I was researching Cannon’s life, I stumbled across multiple references to his military career and work for the US marines. Cannon organized the first unit to specialize in the brand new art of camouflage in 1918. He gathered together a group of scenic artists and once they learned the painting procedure, they were split up among the services. Cannon chose the marines.

Here is a 1918 article about Cannon’s project that I came across this week:

On February 27, 1918, the “Los Angeles Evening Express” reported “Scenic Artists to Mobilize as U. S. Aid in World Conflict” (page 12).  Here is the article:

“Scenic artists in Southern California theaters are included in a country-wide plan to mobilize all of their craft in this country for war purposes. The scheme is being worked out by G. V. Cannon – appropriate name – of St. Paul, Minn., and is understood to have the sanction of the war department. The plan is explained in the following letter from Mr. Cannon, which has been received by attaches of local theaters:

‘The English and French governments have organized the artists of the countries, especially the scenic artists, to work in naval yards, as well as in the fields with regular army, for the purpose of painting large tarpaulins and canvas covers to mask field guns, and they grasped the value of the scenic artist, with his experience, with his wide experience and talent and reproduction and color. They have taken these artists with their various color schemes and composition to completely mask a series of field guns, or paint the sides of a battleship in nature’s true colors and the ocean and waves, so that it has completely baffled the enemy’s submarines to as near as half mile, and, at that distance, in many cases, they have made such poor targets that the submarine has had to maneuver around until it was detected and fired upon. This plan applies to transports on which the American government will have to spend every effort available to guard the loves of its men. Another feature of painting boats is in the painting of a huge wave on the bow of a battleship, this is being the chief method of judging the speed that a boat is traveling. This gives the enemy the impression that the boa is traveling at half speed. There are possibilities too numerous to mention on the value of scenic backgrounds, or fooling the enemy with paint. This plan is being put up to the war department by some of our leading artists and naval men. Among some of the nation’s leading advocates is Joe Cannon, former speaker of the house representatives, who in past years was a decorator and who realizes the value of the work. He is at present working in our interests as a personal favor to myself. So let us hear from all scenic artists who are interested in helping Uncle Sam down the Kaiser, by sending their name, address and age along with past experience and ability to me. – G. V. Cannon, 378 South Wabasha street, St. Paul, Minn.’”

In 1950, Cannon was featured in the “Star Tribune” article, “Minnesota’s ‘Little Marine’ Just Keeps Growing” (5 Nov. 1950, page 21). I am also including this article in its entirety for context.

“There’s a line in one of the censored verse of ‘Mademoiselle From Armentieres’ which goes ‘The little marine he grew and grew.’

The boys hereabouts seem to think that if a line ever applied to anybody in real life, it applies to Jerry Cannon.

More sedately, he’s Gerald V. Cannon, a scenic artist by profession who still makes up an occasional Marine Corps float or a spectacular sign. Its come to be a habit through 33 years of association with the corps.

Cannon will be present at the corps 175^th anniversary dinner Friday night at the Nicollet hotel. Governor Youngdahl, Mayors Hoyer of Minneapolis and Delaney of St. Paul and various other functionaries also will attend, along with wives and mothers of marines now in service.

He now is national service officer for the Marine Corps league, the only veterans’ organization incorporated by act of congress. He is also state service officer under the auspices of the department of veteran’s affairs.

In that job, he is but carrying on a practice built up on his own time between two wars. Cannon was a marine in World War I. Prior to that he had been called upon to organize the first unit to specialize in the brand new art of camouflage. Cannon gathered together a half gross of scenic artists. When they had learned what they had to know, they were split up among the services. Cannon chose the marines and began an extra-curricular career from which he never since has been separated for long.

After the war he helped found three marine groups, each of which perished through inaction. But Cannon made it his business to keep in touch with marines and marine veterans and to pull what wires were necessary to help them.

He became a sort of special in veterans’ rights and made up for his small stature by fast talk and aggressiveness.

When World War II came along, Cannon had retired from the reserve as a captain with 100 per cent disability because of a heart condition. He went right back in, as a staff sergeant attached to the When Cannon enlisted in WWI he listed a health concern, there was foul-up; he got orders to report to Parris Island for boot training. A few days nearly did him in. Representative Melvin Maas rescued him by getting the orders changed and Cannon was shipped back to Minneapolis.

During the subsequent years, he indulged in his hobby of helping out marines and ex-marines. After being discharged he went to the Marine Corps league as a service officer.

His years of association with the marines have been a great help in cutting red tape. On his frequent trips to Washington, Cannon first-names big brass and walks right into offices which would be at least temporarily off-limits to almost anyone else.

Cannon through the years has loaded himself with Marine Corps lore, and documented a good bit of it by collecting relics.

He was a scene designer, for instance, for an Otis Skinner touring company of ‘Kismet.” Among the props was a handsome ivory-handled knife – no stage piece but a real article from Tripoli, dating back to their time the marines made their historic landing there in 1803.

After the tour ended, the knife was presented to Canon. He now keeps its tip sheathed in tape because it’s supposed to be made of poisoned steel.

The knife gave him some anxious moments a few years ago, when he was running a restaurant in the Midway district and had it on display with other relics.

Someone broke into the place and took, among other things, the knife. Both because it was a valuable souvenir and a dangerous weapon as well, Cannon left no stone unturned to get it back.

At length he and the police tracked it down. A bunch of kids were playing with it, using it in a game of cops and robbers. (The knife will be on display at the State Theater when the movie ‘Tripoli,’ depicting the Tripoli incident opens there Friday. The timing of the picture and the dinner is purely coincidental.”

An avid collector, Cannon often picked up books and relics in his travels as a scenic artist. In an old history of the Civil war he found a penciled map indicating a gunroom at old Fort Jackson, at the mouth of the Mississippi, had been sealed up.

He got a government commission to open it and dug through three feet of cement. In the room he found many rare pieces including a dozen large lamps. One of them, given him by the government adorns his home at Cleveland Avenue and Ramsey county road B. The house is li furnished with similar items.

Among them are a couple of hand-wrought nails from the home of Betsy Ross. A marine happened to be guarding the place when Cannon visited as it was being repaired, and a wink from one marine to another seems to mean something.

Busy as he has been, Cannon foresees an even busier time ahead. For one thing, veterans are in a peculiar position, as far as their rights are concerned; while theoretically convened by provisions involving ‘hazardous duty’ or ‘simulated warfare,’ the United States is not actually at was. This, he thinks, will affect claims coming out of Korea.

The men who appeal to him for help, however, are confident of his ability. The little marine, they think, grew until he knows as much about the Marine Corps and its procedures as anybody up or down the line.”

I have explored the Gerald V. Cannon of Joy & Cannon studios in the past. For more information, see past posts 797-800.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

When there is a major disruption in production, industries change for the better or worse. WWI, the measles epidemic, the Spanish flu and the 1920-1921 recession all hit in a relatively short period of time. Factor in prohibition and it may have seemed like the end of the world. Many studios did not weather these storms. One dying company could fuel another in times of trouble, and such was the case when five Sosman & Landis employees left to form Chicago Service Studios in 1920. Troubles began with Thomas G. Moses resigned as President of Sosman & Landis to work for New York Studios during the fall of 1918. He 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.”  This must have signaled the end for his fellow scenic artists at the firm.

Service Studios was initially located at the corner of State and 20^th street in Chicago in a building that was previously known as the Marshall Field Store. The firm soon moved to 2919 W. Van Buren and set up an impressive space after when the Mashall Field estate sold the building. On June 26, 1921, the “Chicago Tribune” reported: “Old Time Marshall Field Store Building is Sold. The Marshall Field estate has sold the southwest corner of State and 20^th. 155×120, to L. R. Warshawsky, for $75,000. After the Chicago Fire Marshal Field & Co., then Field, Leiter & Co., used part of the property for their retail store for some time. Later they used it for wholesale purposes. It is now used for a scenic studio by the Chicago Service Studios. The property is improved with a four story building contains eight stores and eighteen flats with a two story building on the rear. Mr. Warshawsky intends to make extensive alterations and will use a portion for his automobile accessory business. S. C. Iverson of Hubbard Porter & Brother, represented both parties” (June 26, 1921, page 26). The scenic studio in the old Marshall Field Store, must have been a temporary situation as the new studio was prepared in 1920.

Much of what we know about the founding of Service Studios was recounted by scenic artist John Hanny decades later. Hanny was one of the firm’s five founders. Originally a Sosman & Landis artist, Moses hired Hanny in 1906 at the age of 16. Near the end of his life, Hanny would write, “As I look back over the years, I now realize that I have had a full and exciting life – hopefully a productive one – and have known and rubbed elbows with some wonderful generous people including Tom Moses and Wm. Nutzhorn for which I am most grateful.”

In six years, from 1906 until 1912, Hanny progressed at Sosman & Landis’ to become one of their journeymen painters, going from a salary of $6 to $35 a week. Hanny recalled, “Came up the line by painting tormentors and grand drapery border, AD curtains – lettering excepted, surroundings for Front Curtains, Streets, and Olios, etc. Later complete Front Curtains surroundings and picture – figures excepted.”

Hanny wrote a brief biography of his career when asked about his experiences in 1979. On October 8, 1979, he wrote a letter to Dr. John Rothgeb, stating, “I stayed with Sosman & Landis until 1920 when four other men and myself decided to go it on our own and formed the Service Studios. We remodeled – with borrowed money, a Jewel Tea Co. barn of 18 horse stalls into a studio of five 24’ x 48’ and one 24’ x 38’ paint frames, plus floor space of 50’ x 50’ – This was the best equipped studio in Chicago – Sosman & Landis excepted.” Hanny’s mention of the remodeled space would have been the Marshall Field space described in the aforementioned “Chicago Tribune” article. Hanny went on to write, “We rented several frames to Hoyland and Lemle company on which to paint their Ad Curtains.”  In 1924, the Hoyland-Lemle business address was listed as 6751 Sheridan Road in Chicago, the address as William Lemle’s residence (certified List of Domestic and Foreign Corporations for the year 1924). Hoyland and Lemle would continue to rent frames after Service Studios closed in 1926.

By 1926, the demand for painted scenery was beginning to wane and the firm was struggling. Service Studios sold out to Art Oberbeck of ACME Studios. Oberbeck had also started as a young artist at Sosman & Landis, two years before Hanny in 1904. In 1926 Oberbeck moved ACME Studios from 36 West Randolph Street to the Service Studios at Van Buren and Sacramento Street (2919 W. Van Buren).

On April 8, 1928, the “Indianapolis Star” included an advertisement about ACME Studios, noting, “Handling the largest amount of scenic work in Chicago and the United States, the ACME Studios products must necessarily reflect quality and completeness. The advertisement added, “All work is personally supervised by A. W. Overbeck [sic.], himself a scenic artist of ability who has spent more than twenty years in the profession. The firm delivered “stage dressings” for the new Granada Theatre of the U. I. Theatre Circuit, Inc. The company was credited with executing stage scenery and draperies for the U. I. Circuit, Inc., and furnishing stage settings and draperies for “numerous other large photoplay and legitimate theatres, such as Balaban & Katz, Marks Bros. and others” (page 74). ACME Studios was still located at 2919-23 Wes Van Buren St. in Chicago.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1918, Thomas G. Moses went on an auto trip to South Bend, Indiana. He was accompanied by Lester and Jessie Landis. Of the experience, he wrote, “July 2^nd, Lester, his wife and myself started for Battle Creek by the way of South Bend in his auto.  We had a delightful trip, spending the 4^th of July in South Bend and coming away with a $1,200.00 contract.” Earlier that spring, Moses recorded that the studio “Did considerable work for South Bend in April.”

When Joseph S. Sosman passed away in 1915, stockholders elected Moses as president of the Sosman and Landis Company, Sosman’s stepson Arthur as vice-president and Landis’s son P. Lester Landis as secretary and treasurer. This occurred only two months after Lester married Jessie Medbury. By the end of the 1915, Moses wrote, “I hope within a year that Lester will get into the office work so I will not have much of that to do.”

Lester was slow to take on the company reigns for a couple of factors. The first being his recent marriage to actress Jessie Medbury in summer. At the same time, Arthur Sosman did not success in the role of vice president.  By 1916, his mother replaced him in the role. On October 10,1916, Moses was re-elected president of the company, with Mrs. Sosman as vice president and Lester Landis as the secretary and treasurer. This was the same year that Lester and Jessie’s son was born with downs syndrome. The company is still in turmoil from Sosman’s passing, each family is struggling with their individual problems and America enters the was.  Now throw in clients not paying their bills, or delaying payments; it was a rough period, but Lester remains in the position of secretary and treasurer.

By 1918, Lester is more active in his role, and Moses even mentions his success in collecting overdue payments for some projects, but the company is still faltering. By that fall, Moses decided to leave, writing, “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. The Sosman and Landis Company have only done $85,000.00 worth of work for the past year.  We should have done about $116,000.00 worth to make money.” Lester stays and soon becomes company president. He was never a painter, never had the same connections as his father, or really understood how the business was run. This had to have been an extremely difficult time for Lester, especially as he and Jessie disagreed on how to raise a child with special needs.

Although Moses resigned as President of Sosman & Landis in 1918, he would sporadically work with Lester, mentioning him again 1922. That year they pitched a new design for the Scottish Rite Valley of Little Rock, Arkansas. However, Sosman & Landis was preparing to fold and the vultures were waiting in the wings to grab what was left.

In 1923, Moses and Fred Megan purchased the name of Sosman & Landis. Megan was previously associated with the Kansas City scenic Co., but had subcontracted work to Sosman & Landis over the years. The pair would try to convince Lester to work with them again in 1925 after successfully purchasing the name and reorganizing Sosman & Landis.  In short, Moses seems to have genuinely liked Lester to have made the offer. This may have been the turning point for Lester when he declined the position, as he didn’t remain with the theatre industry long after that. Although he was listed in the Evanston Directory as a salesman for theatrical supplies in Chicago in 1931, by 1935 he was a salesman for North Shore Buick Co.  He would remain an automobile salesman until his passing twenty years later.

Lester and his wife add an interesting twist to the overall story of Sosman & Landis, as well as the life and times of Thomas G. Moses. I am going to take a moment to focus on the Landis family.

Perry “Lester” Landis was born on October 25, 1892. He was the son of Perry and Nora Landis. His father, Perry, co-founded Sosman & Landis with Joseph S. Sosman in 1877. The Landis family was theatrical one, with two of Perry’s brothers being well-known minstrel performers during the late nineteenth century.

Perry and Nora were married in 1881 and the couple celebrated the birth of only two children: Viola E. Landis (1885) and P. Lester (1893). By 1899, the family moved from Chicago to Evanston, Illinois, when Perry was listed as a co-founder and “scenic artist” at Sosman & Landis. Despite the success of the studio, the Landis family experienced quite a bit of sorrow over the years, as father Perry and daughter Viola dies within six months of each other; Perry died in 1905. Lester’s son also died in 1928 from the flu. Perry had been extremely sick for three years before his passing.

During the 1920s, however, everything also goes wrong for his son Lester. The loss of his son to influenza in 1928 immediately led to the loss of his wife. They had struggled for years concerning the care of their son and her desire to have a career. Jessie Royce Landis would eventually find success as an actress and film star and publish her autobiography, “You Won’t Be So Pretty (But You’ll Know More)” in 1954. I have been trying to get my hands on a copy for quite some time now, as I only have a few Xeroxed pages that were tucked away in the John H. Rothgeb papers at the University of Texas, Austin.

In her book, Jessie describes the early years of her marriage and the birth of her son. She married Lester on June 7, 1915, and the couple celebrate the birth of a son in 1916. Medbury Perry Landis was named after his two grandfathers – Medbury for her father and Perry for Lester’s.

Medbury was born with down’s syndrome. Of her son’s early years, Jessie wrote, “Meddie was a beautiful baby and almost too good to believe. He seldom cried. During the first two years of his life everything went wrong in the Landis home. The business from which they derived their incomes began to fail and it was disclosed for many years the dividends had been paid out of capital. Lester tried to nurse it back, but he knew nothing about the business and it was all pretty hopeless. The family had never had to economize and couldn’t believe that it was necessary to do so now. ‘It will turn out right somehow,’ Mother Landis would say and they continued to live as they had always lived. I, who had known the ups and downs of fortune, seemed to be the only one to worry.”

It was during this time of extreme financial difficulties that Jessie returns to acting for additional income. After a series of charitable performances, she begins working as an actor and director for the North Shore Players. By 1926 she was performing on Broadway, with her last Broadway show, “Roar Like a Dove,” in 1964. As with many performer, love theatre was her first love, even after appearing on the big screen. In the 1920s, Jessie was touring on the road, her son was enrolled in a special school, and her husband was struggling with his own career. By 1928, their son had passed away from influenza, Sosman & Landis had closed and then reopened under the management of Moses, and Jessie’s career took off. Too many factors for their marriage to survive.

Although Jessie was married two more times, she retained Landis as her stage name.  From 1937-1944 she was married to Rex Smith, and in 1956 she married US Army Major General John F. R. “Jeff” Seitz. In hindsight, keeping the Landis name it may have been a strategic move, as the Landis family was well-known for their theatrical connections also across the country.

Jessie Royce Landis is worthy of mention in her own right.  She was born Jessie Medbury on Nov. 25, 1896. “Royce” was not her original middle name, only “T” or “J” are listed as middle initials in census reports. Later in life, Jessie described her childhood as the daughter of a symphonic musician, explaining “a hankering for the stage since childhood” (Stars and Stripes Newsletter, August 6, 1961). She continued, “When other children were playing with their dolls, I would be playing theater. I do remember I used to put on little shows in the backyard.” As a 14 year old, Jessie had received a scholarship to attend the Hinshaw Dramatic School. She also recalled additional studies as a pianist at the Chicago Conservatory of Music.  She met her husband while performing with the Evanston Stock Comedy. The Landis’ were a big name in Evanston and the theatre industry. Their marriage must have seemed like a perfect fit, and it was for a very brief while.

Lester’s WWI draft record described him as medium height and medium build with brown hair and brown eyes. At the time, his present occupation was listed as a manufacturer of stage scenery at Sosman & Landis. The couple celebrated the birth of their son Medbury in 1921, Sosman & Landis is liquidated in 1923, and Jessie returned to the stage in 1924. That year, newspapers noted that she was both acting and directing with the North Shore Players, going on tour with a production of “The Highwayman.” This is when her career begins to take off – immediately after the collapse of Sosman & Landis. By the 1950s she begins appearing in movies, including “To Catch a Thief” (1955), “The Swan” (1956) and “North by Northwest” (1959). In “North By Northwest,” she plays Cary Grant’s mother.

The same year that Jessie married Rex Smith, Lester also remarried. On October 2, 1937, Lester married Mrs. Elsie C. Karger; the couple stayed together until his passing. Lester passed away at the age of 62 in 1955. At the end of his life he was still an automobile salesman, living in Belleville with his second wife. He had been in the town for four years, having moved from O’Fallon. Both his wife and stepdaughter Jacqueline (Mrs. Charles Schultz) of Columbia, Illinois were listed in his obituary.

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1918, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “The Majestic Theatre and Palace Music Hall had us all do their work as usual, but not very much new work.”  “But not very much new work” is very telling. The industry was in a state of turmoil and business was becoming erratic for scenic artists.  They could no longer anticipate a steady stream of work; it was as if someone had turned down the valve and projects were now slowly trickling out. 

There were some supply shortages too, with elevated prices due to war rationing. By late spring, Moses wrote, “Our business is not good – far from it.  Raw material has advanced so rapidly that we are unable to keep up with it, and I am very much worried about the outcome.” The studio did not have enough work to keep Moses on full-time, and he was the president of the company.  By summer Moses noted, “June business had a slump, so I took a little time to plant our first garden, and we had some garden. It was a little hard at first, but soon I got used to it and rather liked it.  My neighbors insisted on making fun of me as they claimed that was the first real work they ever saw me do.  I wish they could see me lay in a big wood drop on a hot summer’s day.  I think they would change their minds about my easy work.”

In addition to the decline of work, scarcity of materials due to the war, there was another obstacle that was forever growing bigger – the popularity of movies. In 1918, Moses wrote, “Mama and I have become movie fans.  Many of the pictures are very good, while some are far from it.” The rise of movie fans reflected a shift in audience expectations. By fall, Moses would resign as the president of Sosman & Landis, hoping for greener pastures with New York Studios.

But a new threat was on the horizon for Moses and many theaters employees; one that would throw another wrench into the works – the Spanish Flu – and it hit theaters hard. Moses possibly picked the worst time to leave Sosman & Landis.

On Oct. 27, 1918, “The Des Moines Register” reported, “Appetites of Movie Fans, Whetted by Lack of Shows, Manager Says” (page 27). The article announced, “Local Film Houses Expect Big Rush of Business As Soon As Quarantine for Flu is Lifted.” Here is the article:

“What are the movie fans all doing while the theaters are closed on account of the ‘flu,” and what will be the after effect of going for two weeks without a glimpse of fascinating Douglas, excruciating Charlie, bewitching Mary, thrilling Theda – or whomsoever else may happen to be a particular film god or goddess that attracts one irresistibly to the movies?

Answers to these questions are as varied and numerous as the persons asked; more varied, even, than the classes who make up the crowds that daily and nightly pack the movie theatres to their full seating capacities when they are in operation.

As to what their patrons are doing during their enforced vacation, proprietors and managers of local moving picture houses have apparently given scant thought, but they are all of one mind regarding the psychological effect to be expected when the ban has been lifted.

‘Don’t know what they’re doing in the meanwhile – probably reading magazines, visiting among themselves or, maybe, helping make face masks to hasten the end of quarantine,” is about the way the average movie manager sums up the situation.

‘But when the shows reopen, they’ll fairly eat them up! Their appetites will be whetted up: they’ll be less critical – not so prone to pick flaws and criticize as they were before. Get out of the movie habit? No danger! It would take a generation to accomplish that. Attendance will be greater than ever when the quarantine is lifted.’

Acting on that conviction, the movie magnates are having their houses renovated and made more attractive on the inside and out – are planning irresistible drawing cards to present when they reopen – and are tightening up all the loose screws in the seats which are to accommodate record breaking crowds.

‘I only hope that the type known as ‘movie fiends’ are improving the opportunity by staying at home and cultivating the acquaintances of their families,’ says City Mother McMichael; who goes on to explain that she is not opposed to clean, wholesome movies; in fact, she enjoys them. She believes the moving picture film possesses marvelous potential educational value – which, unfortunately, is being largely neglected, while the baser instincts of the public, particularly the younger people, are appealed to and inflamed by sey [sic.] films which do irreparable harm.

‘Maybe the boys who have been shut out of the pool halls will get acquainted with the girls who have been spending all their evenings at the movies, and – there’s no telling what will happen then,’ suggest a policeman, who considers Billy West superior to Charlie Chaplin.

‘The movie fans are reading,’ was an instantaneous reply of a young woman behind the counter of a city library. ‘The demand for books, since the closing order went into effect, amounts almost to a stampede. Thousands of strange faces are lining up at this counter daily, seeking literary substitutes for movie thrills.

‘What class of literature? Fiction – of the ‘popular’ variety. Problem novels are in greatest demand, particularly those that have been dramatized or filmed. Suppose they are reading up on the stories, which they have visualized on the screen. Oh no, there is no appreciable increase in the demand for books on domestic science, the arts, or technical subject.

‘Psychological effect?’ repeated Be Woolgar, superintendent of public safety. ‘I don’t know what effect the closing order will have o the movie fan, but when the theaters reopen they’ve got to pay more attention to the matter of keeping the red lights burning at all emergency exits.”

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

During the spring of 1918, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “My fingers itch to get back on special scenery.  This awful grind of stock scenery is and has been almost impossible.”

In 1918, many touring shows still contracted agreements that required theatres to provide stock scenery and props. Moses mentioned stock scenery in an article that he wrote for the Palette & Chisel Club Newsletter in 1927. It was part of a previously written article that Moses titled “Stage Scenery 1918.” Here is what he wrote:

“Thirty years ago most of the scenery was painted in the theatre, a room or paint bridge being arranged on the stage of adjoining room for that purpose. Each theatre furnished the necessary sets for the traveling company, which was headed by some big star. In the larger cities, the theatre employed a scenic artist and an assistant to keep regular stock scenery in good condition and to supply and special scene needed. While the regular stock scenery in each theatre was nearly complete there was always a call for some scene not to be found in stock. As the scene plot was sent ahead and turned over to the scenic artist, the required scene was built and painted. Often the scene was painted on an old drop, or over old framed wings.”

An 1894 catalogue listed various options for stock scenery delivered by Sosman & Landis. Moses painted stock scenery collections for theaters and opera houses nationwide. In 1895 alone, he was credited with painting stock scenery for the Valentine Theatre in Toledo, Ohio; the Lowell Opera House in Massachusetts; the Avenue Theatre in Pittsburg; the Broad Ripple Theatre in Indianapolis; the Hillsboro Theatre in Waterbury, Connecticut; and the Opera House in Racine, Wisconsin. By 1918, Moses was an old hand at stock scenery, and it must have seen mundane. After all, how many kitchen parlors or prisons does one ever want to paint.

The demand for stock scenery remained constant from the late nineteenth century to early twentieth century. The 1894-1895 Sosman & Landis catalogue divided stock scenery installations into three categories: traveling combinations, small opera houses and halls, and ordinary halls. Although I posted this information a few years back. Here are the descriptions.

Set No. 1 was for traveling combinations.  These would be the larger performance venues that booked headliners and large-scale productions.  Stock scenery for these stages included a drop curtain and at least eight backdrops depicting a fancy parlor scene, plain chamber scene, prison scene, wood scene, garden scene, street scene, rocky pass scene, and ocean view scene.  In addition to the drops, there were 4 parlor wings, 4 kitchen wings, 6 wood wings, 2 front wings (tormentors), 1 grand drapery border, 3 sky borders, 3 set rocks, 3 set waters and 1 set cottage. In some cases, the parlor scene and kitchen settings were delivered as an interior box set; 4×8 flats that were lashed together with cord and cleats. Occasionally the interior flats were double-painted with a fancy interior on one side and a rustic interior on the backside.

There is need to clarify a few other terms detailed in the 1894-1895 Sosman & Landis catalogue too. Tormentor wings depicted painted columns with an “elaborate base and rich drapery at the top and side.”   These wings were stationary ones that were set three or four feet back of, and parallel with, the drop curtain.  The grand drapery border was painted to represent rich and massive drapery that matched the drapery on the tormentor wings.

Set No. 2 was for smaller venues, such as 200-500 seat opera houses and halls.  Their stock settings included 1 drop curtain and five drops: parlor scene, kitchen scene, street scene, prison scene, and wood scene.  In addition to the backdrops, there were 4 parlor wings, 4 kitchen wings, 4 wood wings, 2 front wings (tormentors), 1 grand drapery border, 2 sky borders, 3 set rocks, 3 set waters and 1 set cottage.

Set No. 3 was intended for limited spaces, such as an ordinary meeting hall for a social or fraternal organization.  This option included 1 drop curtain and following drops: parlor scene, kitchen scene, street scene, and wood scene.  In addition to the drops, there were 4 interior wings, 4 exterior wings, 2 front wings (tormentors), 1 grand drapery border, 2 front borders, and 2 sky borders.

The catalogue noted that the scenery was created with “extra heavy material painted in bright durable colors, by the best skilled Scenic Painters, and are warranted strictly first-class in every particular.” By 1894, Sosman & Landis advertised, “Over 4,000 places of amusement are to-day using scenery made by our firm.” 

To be continued…

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1918, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “In March we did a lot of work for the production of “Cinderella,” to be put on in Oak Park at the High School.”  Unfortunately, an outbreak of the measles closed down the school production that month. On May 12, 1918, the “Chicago Tribune” reported, “The opera ‘Cinderella,’ which was to have been given by students from the Oak Park High School has been indefinitely postponed because of an epidemic of measles among the cast. Three members of the cast are ill” (page 3).

There is no indication that the show was ever rescheduled. However, I did encounter an informative article about measles and the recommendation to wear facemasks. In light of our recent situation with COVID-19, this seems like a timely article to share. After all, the Spanish Flu would follow on the heels of the measles epidemic.

The “Chicago Tribune” included a medical section entitled, “How to Keep Well by Dr. W. A. Evans.” On Nov. 18, 1918, Dr. Evans addressed “The Measles Question” (page 8).  

He wrote to following advice:

“Ask the average man on the street about measles and he will say, ‘Oh, fiddlesticks – don’t amount to a row of pins!’ Ask and health officer the same question and he will say, ‘Very important health department question.’ More children die from measles than from any other form of contagion. It kills more children than diphtheria or scarlet fever. Ask any school principal and he will reply: ‘I don’t know about the severity of the disease, but I know that it upsets the schools more than any other disease.’ Now here are three options, no two which are the same and two almost directly contradictory. All the answers are honest. Why the difference? Measles starts like an ordinary cold. Within a few hours this particular cold differs from an ordinary cold in that the eyes get red. It also differs in degree in that there is more dry cough. In an ordinary cold the cough does not come on until a few days after the nose cold. In the family is accustomed to using a thermometer it will find that the measles cold causes the higher fever of the two. After about three days the measles eruption begins to appear, starting first on the face. The disease is most contagious in the period before the eruption.

As to all those points there is no disagreement In fact, most parents and some school officials say measles is so contagious in this early stage that there is not use trying to stop an epidemic once the disease starts. In this Col. Raymond of the army replies by telling of a time when measles broke out in a command of which he had medical charge. At once he locked all the cases on one house and all the contacts in another barracks and marched the bulk of the command away. The epidemic stopped short.

The mother who has had fortunate experiences with measles in her family tells of a few days of fever and hollow cough, then fading of the eruption, disappearance of fever, and stopping of the hollow cough in about ten days. In this the health officer agrees, but he adds so many children get what are known as complications that the number of deaths form measles in half the United Sates in 1916 was 7,946 and other deaths, really from measles but entered on the record as bronchitis, pleurisy, lung abscess, empyema, but really due in the first instance to measles would bring the total up to at least 16,000.

And right there is where the disagreement comes in. The average man on the street does not know about these cases that went wrong. The health officer knows about them because the death certificates go through his hands and he has been studying them. In olden days we said that the ‘measles struck in’ or that the patient ‘caught cold.’ Recent work indicates that what happens is that the patient gets an infection with a pus coccus called streptococcus hemolyticus.

One great advantage of the discovery is that along with it comes another one having to do with prevention. Not only must the other members of the family be protected against the measles patient, but the measles patient must be protected against them. When measles has him down streptococci from the throats of well members of the family are prone to jump on him and convert a mild disease to a severe one.

To prevent this the patient should wear a face mask. The members of the family in contact with the patient – the mother and those nursing and helping – should wear face masks. Cultures of the throats of the well should be made. Those having no streptococci in their throats and having had measles can take off their masks and stay at home. Those negative as to streptococci and with a history of having had measles can come home if they have been sent away. Those with streptococci in their throats should be sent away. If it is absolutely necessary that any such should stay at home they must wear face masks with care as to minute details.”

In regard to the measles and streptococcal co-infections of 1917-1918, David M. Morens and Jeffrey K. Taubenberger published a paper in 2015 – “A forgotten epidemic that changed medicine: measles in the US Army, 1917-18.”

Here is the abstract in case you want to read it: A US army-wide measles outbreak in 1917-18 resulted in more than 95,000 cases and more than 3000 deaths. An outbreak investigation implicated measles and streptococcal co-infections in most deaths, and also characterized a parallel epidemic of primary streptococcal pneumonia in soldiers without measles. For the first time, the natural history and pathogenesis of these diseases was able to be well characterized by a broad-interdisciplinary research effort with hundreds of military and civilian physicians and scientists representing disciplines such as internal medicine, pathology, microbiology, radiology, surgery, preventive medicine, and rehabilitation medicine. A clear conceptualization of bronchopneumonia resulting from viral-bacterial interactions between pathogens was developed, and prevention and treatment approaches were developed and optimized in real time. These approaches were used in the 1918 influenza pandemic, which began as the measles epidemic waned. The outbreak findings remain relevant to the understanding and medical management of severe pneumonia. Here is a link to the paper: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6617519/

To be continued…

The Tabor Opera House in Leadville, Colorado, has three distinct scenery collections. Scenic artists who delivered scenery to the venue include, Henry E. Burcky (1879), T. Frank Cox (1888), the Kansas City Scenic Co. (1902) and Sosman & Landis Scene Painting Studio of Chicago (1902). In 1901, the Elks purchased the Tabor Opera House that was built in 1879, remodeling the stage house and adding a fly loft. The original wing-and-shutter scenery was carefully tucked away in the attic, and new scenery purchased from Fred R. Megan, representing the Kansas City Scenic Co. By the way, Megan and Thomas G. Moses would later partner to establish Moses & Megan while they waited to purchase the Sosman & Landis name after the company closed in 1923. In regard to the Tabor Opera House, Kansas City Scenic Co. subcontracted some of their 1902 project to Sosman & Landis Studio.

Two months ago, I catalogued all of the scenery stored on the Tabor Opera House stage and have just finished creating conditions reports, replacement appraisals and a collections care management document for 105 pieces. I am heading back this fall to do the same for the scenery in the attic.

While I was in the midst of creating the documents for the scenery on stage, Kenneth Kurtz contacted me about a tray in his slide collection. Years back he visited the Tabor Opera house with his wife and photographed some of the scenery, especially a few shutters stored in the attic.  I also photographed some of the scenery in the attic on my 49th birthday in 2018, and knew what treasures were tucked away up there.  In a very generous move, Kurtz send his slides to me this month and I was able to photograph a few projections that I have included with this post. I still have to digitize the photos, but they have been incredibly helpful for me.

The Tabor Opera House scenery collection is remarkable because it shows the shift of scenic art over time, as well as major players in the North American theatrical manufacturing scene. It is a treasure trove of scenic art examples. The collection also depicts a shift in stage hardware from 1879 to 1888 (the flat sheaves used on wings to slide onstage). It also depicts the shift in wing, shutter and roll drop scenery to and fly scenery and realistic interior settings. This is a wonderful theater that should be preserved for future generations. To learn more about visit https://www.taboroperahouse.net/

Please consider donating to the preservation of this remarkable theatre collection. Here is the link to the Tabor Opera House Preservation Foundation: https://www.taboroperahouse.net/donate

Copyright © 2020 by Wendy Waszut-Barrett

In 1918, Thomas G. Moses wrote, “Mama and I went to see the big spectacle of “The Wanderer” at the Auditorium.  It was awfully good.  The scenery was fine.”

“The Wanderer” was a production written by Maurice V. Samuels and staged by David Belasco. The plot was based on the well-known parable of the prodigal son. “The Boston Globe” announced that the show was “endorsed by more than 1500 clergymen of New York and by 800 clergymen of Philadelphia” (18 Nov, 1917, page 48). According to newspapers across the country, it was the “greatest cast ever organized in the history of the American stage” with Nance O’Neil, James O’Neil, Charles Dalton, Frederick Lewis, Lionel Braham, Sydney Herbert, Ernest Cove, Henry Duggan, Jean Stuart, Florence Auer, Jean Robertson, Olga Newton, Edward Martyn, Sydney Mather, George Byron, C. H. Faulkner, and “more than 200 others.”

The first and third act of the show depicted the home of the prodigal son in the hills of Hebron with a flock of sheep. The second act took place in the elaborate palace of Nadina in Jerusalem. Of the palatial scene, the “Spokesman-Review” reported, “Gorgeous and grandeur almost beyond description are said to be found in this scene. Voluptuousness is probably the word that most nearly describes the atmosphere and color of the big act. A riot of color and motion is said to be everywhere as portraying the haunts of gilded vice where, as Scripture relates, the prodigal son ‘wasted his substance in riotous living.’ While the biblical story is closely followed, the playwright has embroidered much romantic effect on the fabric of the parable and tells the story in dignified and picturesque phrases” (Spokane, Washington, 4 Aug., 1918, page 20)

 “The Los Angeles Express” described, “Jerusalem’s house of sin, which is the second act of The Wanderer, also shows a touch of this master. There is sumptuous and luxury with deft touches of the garish in lights and decorations, all combining to convey the impression of a sin-filled atmosphere. The scene is said to be a marvelous palace of imaginative exemplification of St. Luke’s brief description that the Prodigal Son had ‘wasted his substance with riotous living’” (May 9, 1918, page 8).

Advertisements announced, “The magnificence of the orient in the time of King Solomon is revealed in all its grandeur in this wonderful play” (Spokane, Washington, 4 Aug., 1918, page 20). The show was advertised as the “Biggest Dramatic Spectacle on Earth!” Considering that the Ringling Brothers transported 1,250 performers, 300 ballet dancers and 90 musicians for their “King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba” production, this was a little overstated (see past post #486 https://drypigment.net2018/08/25/tales-from-a-scenic-artist-and-scholar-part-486-ringling-brothers-king-solomon-and-the-queen-of-sheba/).

“The Wanderer” traveled with a company of 200, 90 ballet dancers, and 120 real sheep.  I cannot imagine working a touring production with 120 sheep. And what were the sheep doing? The flock of 120 real sheep entered down the scenic runway, 35 feet high, representing the hills of Hebron. “The Los Angeles Express” described the scene with the sheep, reporting, “It is said that the curtain is raised for but a few minutes when the audience is fairly electrified, for there in the poetic quietude of the pastoral scene which represents the home of the Prodigal So amidst the hills of Hebron, is to be seen a large flock of sheep wending their way down the low hillside to the fold at eventide, and the friendly barking of the shepherd dogs is heard as well as the soft grinding of the hand-turned millstones which provide flour of the festal bread” (May 9, 1918, page 8).

Anselm Goetzel wrote the musical score and Alexis Kosloff arranged and directed the incidental dances. “Stern of Paris” was credited with the scene painting and costuming. This was Ernst Stern (1876-1954), the Romanian-German scenic artist, who worked for Max Reinhardt at the Deutsches Theater.

To be continued…