Category: Eastern Trips

On July 17, League of Historic American Theatre (LHAT) conference attendees toured the famous Walnut Street Theatre. Located at the corner of Ninth & Walnut Street in Philadelphia, the theater opened its doors on February 2, 1809. Initially the structure featured a ring for equestrian acts. Initially built for the Circus by Victor Pepin and Jean Breschard, over the course of two centuries, the building underwent many renovations. The building was initially enlarged between 1811 and 1816, transitioning from a circus arena into a legitimate theatre with elevated stage. Remodeled again between 1827 and 1828, gaslights were added in 1837 and air conditioning in 1855, an American first for both. By 1863, Edwin Booth and John Sleeper Clarke purchased the venue, initiating a new era under their leadership. Throughout the duration of the 19^th century and well into the 20th, the Walnut Street Theatre underwent a series of renovations, including multiple scenery purchases.

The LHAT tour in July coincided with Walnut Street Theatre’s summer camp. Seated in the second to last row of the auditorium, I watched young performers below on the stage. It reminded me of our eldest child’s summer camp program at the Wilma Theatre, an annual gift from generous godparents who lived in New Jersey. These were the same friends that I stayed with during the conference this year.

There is something very heartwarming about watching young children on a very old stage, as they become part of the theater’s legacy. With these future thespians in the background, our animated host explained the history of the building. The Walnut’s website also does an amazing job at presenting the past. Here is the link: https://www.walnutstreettheatre.org/about/history.php

Despite the gracious welcome by Walnut Street Theatre staff, I was very disappointed with the current interior, somewhat reminiscent of a grey shell.  I understand that the interior aesthetic of many theaters shift over time, their interiors constantly being re-envisioned by a variety of personalities. It is unusual for a theater to remain its original glory, exact in every detail. I understand the push for change or modernization of any space. However, I should have prepared myself for the Walnut Street Theatre before my visit. Over the past few years I have repeatedly written about the variety of artisans that contributed to the Walnut’s past, primarily focusing on scenic contributions. Whatever I had been expecting to see was not the current decor. I really didn’t have the heart to take any pictures of the space, a first for me. The stage was also unavailable due to summer camp, an element that I had really hoped to see.

Fortunately, images from the venue’s past were prominently displayed everywhere. The hallway behind the balcony contained a variety of images ranging from performers and shows, to historic floor plans and broadsheets.  Blurry images that I have repeatedly encountered online were hanging in their full-scale glory. For that alone, the trip was worth it.

One of the artistic contributions by a scenic artist was mentioned in an 1894 “Philadelphia Inquirer” article. A drop curtain by scenic artist Matt Morgan was installed in 1877.

Here is the section about Morgan’s drop curtain at the Walnut Street Theatre:

“The drop curtain at the Walnut Street Theatre is strikingly different from any other in town. It is skillfully painted to represent silk, and appears to be made of sixty-four squares of white silk deftly sewn together, on which, in a large oval in the center of the curtains is painted a charming picture, representing Shakespeare reading his play, “The Merry Wives of Windsor,” before Queen Elizabeth. It is known as the Shakespeare curtain, and was painted by that versatile artist, Matt Morgan, in 1877. Matt Morgan, now deceased, was a prominent figure in the art world. Though born in Ireland, he was educated in London, and worked on a number of illustrated papers. He was also a figure artist of marked ability, but was unsuccessful in his business ventures. The curtain was first unrolled September 10, 1877, and shows none of the effects of the seventeen years of constant use. Through the oval occupies less than a third of the square surface of the curtain, it contains more than a score of personages. The aged queen, habited in a robe of yellow silk with pointed bodice of coquelicot satin, puffed sleeved trimmed with velvet and an enormous white lace collar and lace cuffs, is seated upon a throne surrounded by courtiers, pages and attendants, while she listen with rapt attention to the reading of the play” (Dec. 18, 1894, page 45). 

A celebrated scenic artist and caricaturist, Morgan was an Irishman trained in London. The favorite pupil of well-known artist Clarkston Stanfield, in 1866 Morgan was working as an assistant to Thomas Grieve at the Covent Garden Theater in London (The Era, 23 Dec. 1866, page 8).  By 1870, Morgan immigrated to America, soon making a name for himself as an illustrator at Frank Leslie’s Illustrated paper. He became a rival of Thomas Nast, the German-born caricaturist and editorial cartoonist (Reading Times, 12 Oct, 1876, page 4). Before immigrating to America, however, Morgan worked as a cartoonist for “Tomahawk,” a weekly comic paper during the 1860s. Later Morgan became the head of the art department of the Stowbridge Lithographing Company in Cincinnati. In America, Morgan worked as both illustrator and scenic artist all across the country, and by 1875, a Chicago newspaper article described Morgan as “far above the ordinary level of scene-painters” (Chicago Tribune, 14 Feb 1875, page 10).

In 1886, Morgan organized a scenic art company in Cincinnati, Ohio. The company was to “present a series of accurate and historic pictures of the decisive battles of the late war between the states. These great pictures, now approaching completion for the northern victories, are to be exhibited throughout the country under the directions of competent lecturers; well known officers of both armies” (The Pulaski Citizen, Pulaski, Tennessee, 12 Aug. 1886, page 2).

Newspapers report that Morgan died of pleurisy, brought on by his work at the new Madison Square Garden (Logansport Reporter, 3 June 1890, page 3).

By 1905, the “Pittsburgh Daily Post” described one of Morgan as a “forgotten artist” when his work was exhibited at the 1905 Scene Painters’ Show. Held at the Grafton Galleries by the Scenic Artists association, the exhibit featured Theater Artists of Great Britain, including cartoons by Morgan. (14 May 1905, page 26).

To be continued…

The Forrest Theatre tour took place on the final day of the League of Historic American Theatres National conference in Philadelphia. The LHAT program noted, “The Forrest is a quintessential ‘road house’, used primarily by touring theatre and dance companies. It was built in 1927 to compete with rival A.L. Erlanger’s planned new playhouse at Market and 21st Streets. The Shuberts intended the new playhouse–named after Edwin Forrest, the great Philadelphia born tragic actor of the nineteenth century–to surpass Erlanger’s new theatre in terms of size and splendor.”

Costing over $2,000,000, the structure was designed by architect Herbert J. Krapp. The space boasted wider seats in the orchestra and modern ventilation and electrical systems. Interestingly, the dressing rooms are housed in a separate building, connected to the stage by an underground tunnel. Theater representatives explained that the reason for this layout is still unclear.

In the 1990s, renovations included redecorating the grand lobby and accessibility improvements. By 2017, the auditorium and mezzanine lounge underwent extensive redecoration, as well as improvements to air conditioning and heating systems. During our visit, there was still work being completed and much was draped in plastic.

During our tour, we learned that the painted fire curtain had also been recently removed. Our tour guides explained that the painting was stunning, but then proceeded to cite the reasons for its removal. I understand that in many cases, encapsulation of an asbestos curtain may be cost prohibitive. When contemplating restoring an auditorium to its original splendor, millions of dollars will be spent. Yet often the original drop curtain, a painted element that often completed the auditorium’s décor, is left out of the conversation.  I am fascinated with this omission.

As I contemplated the funds spent on the Forrest Theater’s auditorium and mezzanine lounged, I wondered why stopping at the proscenium opening was optional. After all, this is the focal point of the theater that every person faces while waiting for a show.

When I walk into a historic theater, or any theater for that matter, I look around the auditorium to briefly examine the space. This often occurs while trying to locate my seat. Even if I am fascinated with the architectural ornamentation, seldom do I stop, as there is often a stream of people behind me also navigating their way to a seat.

Once seated, I take in the space, to my right, left and above. Turning around to see the complete auditorium will often wait until my exit.  Even the most ornate auditorium will not cause me to sit starring at the ceiling for extended periods of time while attending a performance.  Like many, if not looking at my program or chatting with a companion, I will face the proscenium and patiently wait for the show.  I like to think that I am not an anomaly and that my experience is similar to many who have attended the theater over the decades. As audience members, we face forward while waiting for a performance to begin.  All told, a substantial amount of time is spent facing the proscenium opening. I can only hope that a painted front curtain, fire curtain, or decorative grand drape is filling that void.  This is an integral part of the theatre experience. One may even note that whatever is hanging in the proscenium opening may be the pinnacle of the pre-show experience.

The 1894 newspaper article, “Well-known Drop Curtain in Philadelphia Theatres,” reported, “It is claimed by managers that a handsome drop curtain has much to do with the drawing qualities of the house. A charming landscape depicting the greenest of lawns, sparking fountains, rare shrubbery and bright flowers, the dimpled surface of a placid lake, with magnificent hills or rugged mountains in the distance to kiss the brightest fleecy clouds, forms an ensemble well calculated to put the audience in good humor to witness a play. And when let down between the acts it has a tendency to calm the soul after turbulent passages and rouses it to cheerfulness after tearful ones.” (“The Philadelphia Inquirer” on Dec. 18, 1894).

To be continued…

From July 11 until July 20, 2019, I was on the road, traveling from Minneapolis to Philadelphia and then back again.  In Philadelphia I attended the League of Historic American Theaters National conference from July 14-17. My good intentions to daily write about interesting sites and events were rapidly dashed when I realized that there was simply not enough time each morning.

As one of 330 attendees, I participated in a series of educational sessions and networking opportunities. The conference also included trips to visit nearby historic theaters on two of the four days.  Our first visit was to the well-known Academy of Music in Philadelphia, an entertainment venue considered to be the oldest opera house in the United States that is still used for its original purpose. As noted in the LHAT program: “The Academy of Music is currently owned by the Philadelphia Orchestra and managed by Kimmer Center Inc. but the long-term caretaking of the building is overseen by a third entity: the Academy of Music Restoration Fund Office, a non profit with its own board of trustees and a mission to raise all the money required for the ongoing capital projects that ensure the structural integrity and long-term preservation of a National Historic Landmark.”

I was excited to see the Academy of Music because of one particular scenic artist who once painted for the venue. Although this aspect of the theater’s history is no longer part of the current steward’s story, the nineteenth century scenic illusion and dramatic painting delivered to Philadelphia audiences should not be forgotten; it is extremely exciting in its own right. Exciting enough that I felt my eyes tear up when I walked into the space.  Creating the drop curtain and scenery for this theater placed a feather in the cap of any scenic artist during the nineteenth or twentieth century. His work was viewed by thousands of theater patrons.

This spring, my “Tales of a Scenic Artist and Scholar” looked at painted contributions to Philadelphia theaters noted in an 1894 newspaper article. “Well-known Drop Curtain in Philadelphia Theatres,” was published in “The Philadelphia Inquirer” on Dec. 18, 1894. One section of the article described four painted curtains by Russell Smith for the Academy of Music. They included the drop curtain, a Romeo and Juliet drop, an asbestos curtain, and a Japanese silk tableau curtain.

Of Russell Smith’s scenic contributions to the Academy of Music, the article continues:

“It is claimed by managers that a handsome drop curtain has much to do with the drawing qualities of the house. A charming landscape depicting the greenest of lawns, sparking fountains, rare shrubbery and bright flowers, the dimpled surface of a placid lake, with magnificent hills or rugged mountains in the distance to kiss the brightest fleecy clouds, forms an ensemble well calculated to put the audience in good humor to witness a play. And when let down between the acts it has a tendency to calm the soul after turbulent passages and rouses it to cheerfulness after tearful ones.”

“One of the happiest examples of this style of curtain is seen on the handsome ‘drop’ at the Academy of Music. It was painted by Russell Smith in 1857, and has been in continuous use for the past thirty-seven years, during which time has apparently lost none of its original freshness of coloring, and is considered one of the finest specimens of that famous artist’s work. It is entitled “Como,” but the actual scene is from sketches made by the artist at the head of Lake Lugano, in Northern Italy. A conventional design representing a huge frame, surrounds the picture while in the center of the lower border is a Greek bust. The scene pictures a view of “Como” in summer time. There are the finest of Italian skies, the glitter and sheen of the greenish blue waters of one of the loveliest lakes in the world. In the left foreground rises a terrace with broad, low steps leading down to the shimmering waters of the lake. To the right, in the immediate foreground is a mass of semi-tropical foliage overhanging the cool and sparkling waters of the lake. Beyond rise several palaces of the nobility; while in the background the sloping sides of the mountains are gemmed with castles and palaces. Gondolas float on the placid waters of the lake, while some of the palaces seem set like jewels in the opalescent waters.”

I am still surprised that the drop curtain had remained in place for thirty-seven years by 1894, when many other theaters replaced their drop curtain and scenery every decade. This suggests to popularity of Smith’s work, especially in light of the drop curtain’s purpose described above. To last in place for almost four decades and remain unknown by the current theater stewards today is surprisingly. The 1894 article continued to describe the composition of another drop painted for the Academy of Music by Smith in 1883:

“The main curtain, often called the Romeo and Juliet drop, in use at the famous temple of music was painted by Russell Smith in 1883. It represents a moonlight scene from a terrace overlooking a lake. A gondolier has approached an overhanging balcony window, and delivers himself of his tender passion to the lady, who leans over the balcony rail while she listens to the music of his mandolin. The whole scene, faintly illuminated by the mystic light of the silvery moon falling on the rippling waters of the mist-covered lake, and the blue velvet curtains that drape the door opening on the terrace, with its mosaic floors and stone balustrade, making a witching moonlight scene.”

Smith also painted a fire curtain for the Academy of Music three decades after delivering the initial drop curtain. His asbestos curtain was claimed to be the first of its kind in the United Stated:

“The asbestos curtain at the Academy of Music is distinguished as the first asbestos curtain ever put in any American playhouse in America, and as far as is known, is the first in use in the world. It is made in three sections, the lower third of which has the asbestos pressed in on both sides. It was also painted by Russell Smith in 1887, and represents only a flight of steps nearly hid by a mass of red drapery.”

Finally, the article noted another scenic contribution by Russell, a tableau curtain:

“Another curtain at the Academy is the tableau curtain, made of pure Japanese silk and handsomely decorated along the border by Russell Smith, who has also painted 80 per cent of all the scenery at the Academy. The tableau curtain is made of a series of alternating perpendicular breadths of light blue and white Japanese silk with a satin finish to its surface. The curtain is divided down the center and has a border of flowers around each half. Along the bottom on an eight-foot border, are placed six large medallions representing scenes from ancient history and mythology on the left and modern views on the right.”

I was most intrigued with this particular scenic piece described in the article. This is the first description of a tableau curtain that I have encountered to date. The specific mention of Japanese silk makes me consider the incredible expense of the piece, as well as the difficulty in its painting. The decoration of the eight-foot high border was quite complex, especially when considering that individual scenes were painted in each of the in six medallions within the floral area.

This is such an astonishing heritage, transforming the theater experience for each event. It is a shame that we have lost so much beauty over the decades. Just imagine if those same scenes were redelivered today, would they still stun audiences?

To be continued…