ABSTRACT THE ROLE OF CONTEMPORARY SCENE BUILDING HOUSES FOR BROADWAY THEATRE By Jeffrey Collom This study is concerned with the description of the scene building industry for the commercial Broadway theatre. Crucial to an understanding of production procedures for all the elements of a professional performance is a knowledge of the contributions of the individuals who build the scenery. The talents of these craftsmen are significant insofar as without them, the designer's plans would remain just that--p1ans. As important as these scene builders are to the production of plays in the commercial Broadway theatre, literature reveals little concerning their role. This study identifies and offers the genesis of the most active members of the Theatrical Contractor's Association which was chartered in August, 1973. Because the literature provided so little upon which to create any description, each member scenic contractor in the Association was interviewed. Alphabetically, they are: Atlas Scenic Studio, Ltd. of Norwalk, Connecticut; Design Associates, Inc. of Lambertville, New Jersey; Feller Scenery Jeffrey Collom Studios, Inc. of Bronx, New York; Hart Scenic Studio of Edgewater, New Jersey; Lincoln Scenic Studios of New York, New York; Messmore and Damon Scenic Studios of New York, New York; National Scenery Studios of Springfield, Virginia; Nolan Scenic Studios of Brooklyn, New York; and Variety Scenic Studios of Long Island City, New York. In addition, Patrick Albert MacDonald, Jr. of the now defunct MacDonald Scenic Studio was interviewed. The recorded, structured, question-and-answer interviews provide the basis for the descriptions. The purpose of the inter- views is to explore the histories, business practices, and construc- tion procedures of each studio, including the internal workings among scene building technicians and their concommitant association with the unions. Because "Broadway" evolved out of the early economic centralization and decline of the stock system, examination is made of the causes, historically, which generated the inception of the scenic contractual process as it exists in the world of the contemporary Broadway theatre. Included also is a description of the production process with emphasis on the designer's role pre- liminary to his contact with scene building houses. Histories of the main scene building houses for the Broadway commercial theatre are included. The history of the old MacDonald studio, long since closed, is included because this scenic studio is credited with being the first in New York City to give birth to the present contractual system. Jeffrey Collom Aspects of the contractual process which are integral to the workings of the scenic studios are illucidated. The procedural difficulties of bidding are also revealed as well as the problems which plague the scene building industry. These problems are seen to be primarily those of an economic nature. The payment system for services rendered is investigated as well as effects of esca- lating costs of materials. The operations involved in the building of scenery, the sequence of construction, the facilities and personnel involved, and, again, the problems inherent in each are described. The scenic production industry, as examined, is revealed to be somewhat tenuous in nature; the business is frought with time pressures, economic fragility, and holds a precarious position as the number of Broadway productions has declined. THE ROLE OF CONTEMPORARY SCENE BUILDING HOUSES FOR BROADWAY THEATRE BY no“>< on Jeffrey Collom A DISSERTATION Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY Department of Theatre 1975 Copyright by JEFFREY COLLOM 1975 DEDICATED TO Bette Gibson Blackburn Collom ii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This writer wishes to express appreciation to Mr. Frank C. Rutledge, Chairman of the Department of Theatre of Michigan State University and to my advisor, Dr. Donald R. Treat, for their encouragement and their direction. To Mr. Theodore Hoffman of New York University, this writer extends his gratitude also, for the invaluable contributions made to the planning of this disser- tation. iii TABLE OF CONTENTS ACKNOWLEDGMENTS . .' . . . . . . . . . . . . . LIST OF TABLES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . LIST OF APPENDICES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . INTRODUCT ION O O O I O O O I O O O O O O O 0 Chapter I. THE ADVENT OF CONTEMPORARY SCENIC CONTRACTING FOR BROADWAY AND THE ROLE OF THE DESIGNER IN THIS PRODUCTION SCHEME . . . . . . . . . . . The Advent of the Contractual Process . . . . The Designer's Role in Production Planning . . . II. HISTORIES OF THE MAJOR BROADWAY SCENE BUILDING HOUSES MacDonald Studio History . . . . . . . . . Nolan Scenic Studios . . . . . . . . . . Feller Scenery Studios . . . . . . . . . Hart Scenic Studios . . . . . . . Variety Scenic Studios . . . . . . . Messmore and Damon Scenic Studios .. . . . . . Atlas Scenic Studio, Lt'd . . . . . . . . III. BIDDING, CONTRACTS, AND UNIONS IN THE SCENE BUILDING HOUSES O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O Bidding Sessions . . . . . . . . . . . The Process of Bidding . . . . . . . . . The Relationship Between Studio and Scenic Designer Problem of Payment . . . . . . . . . . . Unions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Scenic Studio Owners' Relationships With Their Employees . . . . . . . . . . . . . Scenic Studios' Views of Unions as a Whole . . . iv Page iii vi vii viii 12 12 21 34 34 47 51 54 56 61 62 65 66 68 7O 71 75 76 78 Chapter Page IV. SCENIC STUDIO OPERATIONS . . . . . . . . . . 85 Sequence of Construction . . . . . . . . . . 85 Carpentry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86 Scenic Artist . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86 Scenic Studio Facilities and Personnel . . . . . 86 Building Process in Scenic Studios . . . . . . 90 Scene Building Costs . . . . . . . . . . . 92 Financial Aspects . . . . . . . . . . 94 The Scenic Studios' View of the Business . . . . 96 V. CONCLUSION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99 BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109 APPENDIX . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115 LIST OF TABLES Table Page 1. wage Scales for United Scenic Artists Local 829 of the Brotherhood of Painters and Allied Trades . . . . 80 2. Wage Scales for Carpenters Union, Local 1 and 4 (IATSE) O O O O O O I O O O O O O O O O 81 vi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Plate Page 1. Variety Scenic Studios. Top: Herb Lager with his Volumaform Scenery. Nolan Scenic Studios. Bottom: Exterior View . . . . . . . . . . 57 II. Hart Scenic Studios. Top: Exterior View. Atlas Scenic Studio, Ltd. Bottom: Exterior View . . . 342 III. Messmore and Damon Scenic Studios Main Shop Area . . 344 IV. Hart Scenic Studio Carpentry Shop . . . . . . . 346 V. Nolan Scenic Studios Main Building Area . . . . . 348 VI. Nolan Scenic Studios Drop Painting Area . . . . . 350 VII. Robert Edmond Jones' 60th Birthday Party, 1947 . . . 352 vii LIST OF APPENDICES Appendix Page A. Transcripts of Interviews with Scene Builders . . . . 116 B. Members of Theatrical Contractors Association . . . . 309 C. Questions Asked of Scenic Builders . . . . . . . 311 D. Copy of Current Agreement between Local 829 and the League of New York Theatres and Producers . . . . 313 E. Photographs of Scene Builders' Studios . . . . . . 341 viii INTRODUCTION Many hundreds of thousands attend the theatre--theatre of widely divergent descriptions. However, even those individuals involved in both a professional and an educational capacity with the scenic elements of theatrical productions are very often unaware of the origin of scenery for the professional theatre. This study, therefore, examines the contemporary process of manufacturing the scenery for the Broadway theatre in New York City. Description of the Study From the writer's investigations there is little contempo- rary or historical literature which gives emphasis to the system of building scenery for the Broadway professional theatre. Without these scene builders, however, the talents of the most notable scenic designers would never reach the most significant phase of application--the physical form of a full sized set upon the stage. The design would remain merely concepts committed only to sketches, ground plans, detail drawings, and elevations were the scenic builders not capable of effectively interpreting and transforming the scenic designer's esthetic concepts into the finished artistry witnessed by the Broadway theatre goer. It is the intent of this study to identify and describe the crucial role of the scene builder of Broadway theatrical 1 production. The writer feels this is necessary because so very little is known of these masters of stagecraft, and, yet, these very scene builders, in many instances, must provide the proper definition to a designer's original idea in order mechanically to execute sets for the Broadway theatre. Through examination of seven scene building houses in the East (only six of which are still functioning) which have con- tracted for construction of sets for Broadway productions, the writer hopes to reveal just how demanding the role of the scene builder really is and how, indeed, he functions under the limiting conditions inherent in his business. A singular critic shares this evaluation of the scene builder: Ask Bobby Jones or Ray Sovey about "Berg,' ask Don Oenslager about Adler, ask Jo Mielziner about Albie or the Weisses or Eddie Rock, and what each of those men has contributed to the careers of American designers. They will no doubt say that if Broadway has a worldwide reputation for excellence and smoothness in stage decoration a great share of the credit must go to these master craftsmen working with paint, light, cloth and wood. For no setting is so complicated, no effect so unorthodox or so tricky, no style of painting so bold or so careful, no mood so subtle that these men cannot execute what is demanded of them.1 While this study explores seven scene building studios, slightly greater emphasis is placed on the two leading houses of Feller Scenery Studios, Inc. and Nolan Scenic Studios inasmuch as they provide the most comprehensive information available on the subject of scenic contracting and construction for contemporary 1Norris Houghton, "Credits," Theatre Arts, XXX (November, 1946), pp. 657-58. Broadway theatre. In addition, they are the leading suppliers of scenery for the Broadway theatre. Descriptions of histories, pro- duction operations, contractual procedures, and economic practices are presented. Included also is a discussion of the former Operation of MacDonald Scenic Studios. These comprise the major sections of this dissertation. In summary, this dissertation proposes to illuminate the little known subject of contemporary scenic contracting for Broadway theatre and, in addition, to establish the credibility of the Broadway scenic builder more firmly. Justification of the Study Investigations by this writer have shown to yield little textual data as it applies to the subject of this dissertation. It would appear, therefore, that the history of the theatre has a gap, namely in the area of scenic construction and contracting processes for the professional Broadway theatre. There is, to date, no all- inclusive, single source that deals with the history, production procedures, and economic operations of the major contemporary scene building houses, the scenic construction studio. A few texts give scant mention to certain aspects of this subject, but even in combination these treatments are far afield of constituting a continuum of information with respect to the Broadway scenic con- struction business. For this reason and for reasons assumed from evidence gathered at personal interviews, the writer understands that little is known about this subject, not only by the theatre-going public, but by many producers, directors, and actors engaged in the industry. It has been evident through the entire study that this area of theatre work is known only to those directly involved in the work of the scene building industry itself--yet it is a business critical to the very life of Broadway theatre and should be properly understood and appreciated by those of us con- cerned with theatre in its totality. Since the character of Broadway theatre as an industry is so mercurial, the future of these scenic companies necessarily reflects this intrinsic climate of uncertainty. Corroborating this is the fact that fifteen years ago there were over thirty scenic contracting studios operating in and around the area of New York City.2 Today there are only nine scenic studios functioning for the Broadway theatre and only five of these are in New York City proper, and fewer still have the operational magnitude to build a major multi-scene musical. One of the remaining studios, Variety Scenic Studios, has gone through bankruptcy on two occasions under different organizational names and has since begun business anew. Consequent to this information it appears especially im- portant to capture and record the dynamics of these studios while they are active and flourishing, for certainly, the history of theatre is incomplete without a knowledge of the Broadway scenic contracting industry. 2Patrick Mitchell, private telephone interview, Springfield, Va., February, 1975. 3Herb Lager, private interview, see Appendix A-5, p. 280. Because this dissertation illuminates this little known subject, it, therefore, may be considered a primary source. Method of Research The writer personally interviewed the owner—managers of the scenic studios of the nine-member Theatrical Contractors Associ- ation.4 The interviews were conducted between October, 1974 and March, 1975. All appointments with the studios were arranged by telephone several days or weeks in advance, and, with the exception of Albie MacDonald, interviews were conducted at the owners' places of business during regular working hours. The protracted meetings with Nolan Scenic Studios deviated from this pattern because they spanned an excess of six months. The retired Albie MacDonald's interview took place on a Sunday evening in December, 1974 and was an uninterrupted, three hour, parlor discussion which included Mrs. McDonald. Although a preplanned outline which included a structured list of specific questions5 had been prepared in advance and were the starting points for each individual interview, a certain degree of informality developed during the course of the interviews as each interviewee responded with varying interest to the topics. This was partially due to the idiosyncracies of each individual, but more often than not, however, exchanges had to be abbreviated due to the pressure of work activity. 4Members of Theatrical Contractors Association, see Appendix B, p. 307. 5See Appendix C, p. 309. Each of the studios reviewed in this dissertation was visited, photographs were taken at the sites,6 and notes describing interiors and exteriors of the facilities were recorded. The owner and/or the partners of the operations were interviewed. In cases where shops had managers, they also were interviewed. The majority of interviews are transcribed in Appendix A. Three members of the Association were not taped and do not appear in Appendix A. Notes were taken during the interviews of James Hamilton of Design Associates, Inc. and Mario Berritto of Lincoln Scenic Studios and were not, therefore, transcribed. A telephone interview of Patrick Mitchell of the National Scenery Studios was sufficient to gather the necessary information in this instance. The bulk of the material was obtained from owners, operators, and managers, but information was also gathered from foremen, leadmen, mechanics, scenic artists, and apprentices. These individuals discussed aspects of scene building ranging from contractual agree- ments, to construction problems, to union agreements. The business experience of these men extends from as little as four months to as much as forty years. Whenever possible, factual material pertaining to each man's speciality and the working background that brought him to this professional field was elicited. It is in this fashion that the particularity of the business of scenery production emerged. 6See Appendix E, p. 339. Limitatigg§_of theifitudy For definitive reasons, it is necessary to point out that these companies do engage in building sets for Broadway, but many also are involved with scenic construction not usually thought of as "on Broadway" in its strictest sense. The only scenic contractor who claims to be involved with Broadway scenery to the exclusion of all other types is Nolan Scenic Studios in Brooklyn. Feller Scenery Studios, Inc., however, depends for economic solvency on other endeavors normally considered to be "outside theatre." World's Fair pavillions, Disney World and Disneyland projects, and permanent built effects for outdoor amusement parks are some of these projects. This dissertation will not deal with this aspect of the scenic contracting industry. This study does subsume that such productions as ballet, opera, and musicals of all descriptions come under the definition of "Broadway" if these productions are presented in a theatre normally considered of major magnitude. In view of this, defining the physical parameters of Broadway is requisite to this examination of the scenery makers behind the "Broadway scene." To most theatre goers, the theatre section is encompassed roughly by west 42nd Street on the south to Lincoln Center on the north, and from between Eighth and Nineth Avenues on the west to Radio City Music Hall and Rockefeller Plaza on the east. It should be observed that the scenic building houses which serve this theatre area are not found within these boundaries. They range from as far north as Norwalk, Connecticut to as far from the metropolitan New York City area as Springfield, Virginia and Lambertville, New Jersey. Scenic building houses can be large and impressive, or they can be small with dark, unnoticeable facades set in a row of warehouses. It is from these disparate sections that the scenery construction plants bring carpentry, metal working, mechanical operations, and scene painting together in one finished product. This study makes brief mention of props, yet it is not the concern of this dissertation to explore this unique area of theatre production. In the main, props are the responsibility of the designer.7 It is his decision as to whether the props are purchased or manufactured by the scene shop constructing the scenery. As such, there are no prop shops left in existence in New York City. There are two establishments from which props may be rented. These shops will repair or refurbish pieces, but they do not construct props per se. These establishments traffic, in the main, with television studios and will not be considered in this dissertation. Definition of Terms Several terms are endemic to a discussion of the business of scenic construction for the Broadway theatre. This section presents definitions for those terms. Centralization.--This term labels the process in which professional theatrical activity became focused in major metropolitan 7See Appendix D, p. 311- areas. The Broadway theatre of New York City is the most widely known example of this phenomenon. Combination System.--This concept refers to a system in which a professional show is produced in a metropolitan area with the understanding that a successful run will ultimately be toured. This system brings together the many divergent elements especially for opening an original production. In-House.--In-house refers to that process in which the scenic elements of a production are manufactured within the confines of the physical structure wherein the play is presented. Out-of-House.--Out-of—house, the operation prevalent in the contemporary Broadway combination system, describes the building of scenery by a scenic contracting studio, independent of and normally some distance from the particular theatre in which the play will Open. Scenic Contractor.-This term refers to those individuals involved in the contracting for and the construction of the theatri- cal scenery for the professional theatre of Broadway. The terms scene builder and scenic studio owner and/or operator are used synonymously with scenic contractor. Organization of the Study This study is divided into four main chapters. The first chapter is presented in two main sections. The first section deals with the advent of the contemporary scenic contractual process for the Broadway theatre and examines the historical conditions which 10 caused the emergence of this system. The second section explores the role of the designer in production planning and characterizes his relationship to the production of scenery by contractors. Chapter Two gives the individual histories of each estab- lishment as well as a description of the facilities. In all cases, the origin of develOpment and the background of the owners are traced. Chapter Three describes the many facets involved with scenic contracting. Some of these include the very important process of bidding, the studio-scene designer relationship, the unions and their members, and the relationship of the scenic studio owners to the two unions and their employees. Chapter Four is a comprehensive view of the operations of the scenic studio houses. It deals with the construction of scenery and the personnel necessarily involved. Also discussed are the scenic studio's views of the business and some of the financial aspects involved in the bidding process. There are five Appendices included. The first, Appendix A, contains the transcripts of the recorded interviews of the scenic studio owners. There are seven divisions, each giving the specific questions and answers exchanged between the writer and the affiliate of the particular scenic studio. Appendix B is a list of the current members of the Theatrical Contractors Association. Appendix C itemizes the questions asked of scenic builders. Appendix D is a copy of the current agreement between Local 829 and the League of New York Theatre Producers. Appendix E contains photographs of 11 the scene builders' studios—-some exterior and some interiors. Included in this list is a photograph of Robert Edmond Jones' sixtieth birthday party (1947) with a key identifying the famous names surrounding him. CHAPTER I THE ADVENT OF CONTEMPORARY SCENIC CONTRACTING FOR BROADWAY AND THE ROLE OF THE DESIGNER IN THIS PRODUCTION SCHEME An analytical description of scenic contractors for Broadway theatrical productions constitutes the purpose of this dissertation. Therefore, consideration of the circumstances surrounding the development of this contractual system is significant, and because scenic construction is but a part of an involved production process, its relationship to the other phases of production should also be explained. The purpose of this chapter is, therefore twofold: to explore the conditions which led to the advent of the present con- tractual process and to describe the pre-production procedures in- volving the designer which lead to his inevitable contact with the scenic contractors. The Advent of the Contractual Process This section explores the evolution of conditions in theatre in the United States which offered an environment for the emergence of the practice of contracting for scenery building, a system which is the prevailing process for mounting theatrical scenery in the Broadway commercial theatre. Investigation of the literature relevant to the history of the theatre in the United States reveals 12 13 a paucity Of information regarding who specifically was involved in the scenic building Operation. Therefore, any historical view preceding the turn of the century yields little information. There is evidence, however, which would indicate that the contractual process for scenic building as known today began around the time of centralization (1880-1900).1 Centralization is that process which localized the bulk Of theatrical activity around the major metropolitan areas. Principal among these is the Broadway theatre of New York City which is the concern of this dissertation. At this time the traveling "combination company" began to replace the local independent stock company. "Combination company" refers to the producer-formed organization created solely for the purpose Of bringing together all of the disparate elements for a particular theatrical venture. For each new play a new organization is formed. The production is generally initiated in a metropolitan city and is subsequently toured. Centralization led to the control of the theatre by "big business," that is, the theatrical syndicate, and later the Schubert brothers.2 "Big business" refers to the commercial theatre of which the Broadway theatre is the clearest example. It is this type of commercial operation which eventually led to out-of-house scenery construction--that system in which the sets and, for the most part, lFred Jacoby, private interview, see Appendix A-2, p. 181. 2Jack Poggi, Theatre in America. The Impact Of Economic Forces, 1870-1967 (Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, 1968), p. 3. 14 all production elements, are gathered together outside of and independent of any given theatre. In-house is the term signifying the mounting of the production elements from within the facility commonly used by the theatrical group or company. Educational Theatre, Repertory Theatre, and Community Theatre normally are all categorized as in-house Operations. This does not preclude the fact that anyone may contract for scenery. As budgets for dramatic arts centers grow, the writer has perceived an increased use of scenic contractors' services. This is particularly true of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C. which contracts with National Scenery Studios Corporation Of Springfield, Virginia, a member Of the Scenic Contractors' Associ- ation.3 Nevertheless, when considering the expansive realm Of the educational theatre system in this country and the number of com- munity theatres throughout the provincial sections of the United States, it is not difficult to surmise that, by and large, the majority of American theatrical activity is performed in-house, in contrast to the process known as out-Of-house or contracting. The stock system Of the late nineteenth century was another in-house operation in which all scenic elements were completed within the facility of the existing theatre. The stock system was essen- tially localized. Each community had its permanent resident company, and the company became identified with a particular theatre. Each theatre was a separate entity having no connection with other theatres. 3Members of Theatrical Contractors' Association, see Appendix B, p. 307. 15 This isolation caused theatre managements to be identified with their theatres and producing organizations. Producers owned or leased and exercised complete control of the theatre house and the company. The traveling combination company, however, began to supplant this system. Thomas Gale Moore believes that: With the spread of the railroad and the consequent rate reduction, mounting a production in New York . . . to tour became cheaper than having local companies produce their own shows. More and more touring companies steadily invaded the domain of waning stock.5 Coupled with this is the explanation of A. Nicholas Vardac. The melodrama of the last half of the nineteenth century found its greatest audience among the lower classes of the larger cities. . . . The provincial "opera house," endeavoring, with its limited technical facilities, to entertain the bulk of the melodrama audience, was eventually to bear the brunt of the competative force[s]. . . .6 These competitive forces were the combination system and the cinema in its embryonic form. There is an ". . . overall coincidence between the realistic-romantic theatrical cycle in the nineteenth century and the invention of the motion picture.“7 This created a demand on the part of the theatre goer for increased pictorial sensations on the stage. Because only large metropolitan theatres such as the Lyceum in New York City were sufficiently equipped and AAlfred L. Bernheim and Sara Harding, The Business of the Theatre (New York: Benjamin Blom, 1932), p. 32. 5Thomas Gale Moore, The Economics of the American Theatre (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1965), p. 13. 6A. Nicholas Vardac, Stage to Screen (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1949), pp. 1-2. 7Ibid., p. XXIV. 16 staffed to manage the elaborate productions, centralization began to become apparent in the New York area. The system of staging used in [provincial] theatres, as well as in the theatres of metropolitan centers, was essentially the same at the time of the cinema's arrival as it had been at mid-century. Road shows originatin in New York would require stringent scenic alteration. . . . Toward the end of the century scenic limitations existed in the majority of local theatres.] Road shows were Often required to travel simply with their drops, using them in outlandish combinations with whatever wings and borders were available at each stand. There were other problems related to the visual elements Of a production, causing a shift Of audience interest away from the provincial stock playhouse. What was most detrimental . . . was not the general inade— quacy of staging facilities but the very artificiality of their conventions. Consider, for instance, in an era since heralded for the realism of its theatrical reforms, the ersistence of staging methods hailing from Serlio, Sabbatine E1638], and the Italian Renaissance. . . . Theatrical illusion in the playhouses Of the smaller cities and towns catering to the larger proportion of the national audience depended . . . upon the acceptance of two—dimensional wings painted to counterfeit, and arranged to fake, a three-dimensional stage picture.9 It is also known that in the later part of the nineteenth century managers and builders began to recognize New York as a particularly advantageous locale.10 Of course, many performers and stars gravitated to the New York City area, not only because of theatrical employment Opportunities, but because Of other 81bid., pp. 2, 4-5. 91bid., p. 6. 10Mary C. Henderson, "The Theatre and the City: A Study of the Evolution Of the Theatrical District in the Urbanization Of New York City" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, New York University, 1972), p. 315. 17 theatrically related industries such as night clubs.11 However, this does not give the entire answer as to why New York City became the focal point in the centralization process. TO be considered also is the fact that New York had wealth, size, and immediate con- tact with the Old World. It had already become a principal city in terms of taste and fashion, as well as being America's financial center. All of these factors contributed to the centralization in New York of everything required to create a production--actors, money, designers--further weakening the stock system in the rest of the country. Traveling stars also helped to destroy the stock system-- making Broadway even more significant. Local stock organizations had little to offer by way of variation in talent or scenic spectacle. Then came traveling combinations--new faces and figures, fresh scenery and costumes--diffusing the glamour of a New York run and a New York cast, for New York, by the time that the combination system first raised its head, had assumed undisputed sway as arbiter egalitarian. In the face of this competition the local stock companies gradually faded away.12 Related to this destruction of local independence was the ultimate separation of theatre management--that is, the actual day- to-day operation Of a theatre facility or plant--from play producing. This separation occurred in the combination companies. This writer maintains that it was this separation of the producing organizations from theatre management which gave impetus to the contractual process found today. 11Moore, op. cit., p. 4. 12Bernheim and Harding, op. cit., p. 34. 18 The combination company differed, therefore, from the stock system insofar as it was a system Of theatrical presentation wherein a company or corporation was formed for a single play. When the play had finished its run of Broadway and its tour, the life of the organization was ended. The combination company's connection with the theatre in which it was to play was purely transitory and a matter of chance. The previously unified structure of the stock company was divided into theatre managers and play producers.13 This new system brought about significant changes, not the least of which was the need to contract to have scenery built out of the theatre and subsequently transported from a scene building studio to the theatre booked for the opening performance. Further evidence for this is found in the interviews with Albie MacDonald,14 owner-operator of the defunct MacDonald Scenery Studio, Charles Bender,15 owner-Operator Of Nolan Scenic Studios, Fred Jacoby,16 the oldest active scenic artist, and JO Mielziner.17 These men support the information that theatre technicians and scenic artists originally worked back stage building scenery in theatre studios, and, if work stopped, they would move on to another 13Ibid., p. 33. 14Albie MacDonald, private interview, see Appendix A-l, pp. 115 8 138. 15Charles Bender, private interview, see Appendix A-2, p. 151. 16 . Fred Jacoby, o . c1t., p. 181. 17 J0 Mielziner, private telephone interview, New York, N.Y., January, 1975. 19 theatre. There is also a consensus among these men that Albert MacDonald's father, Patrick A. MacDonald, Sr., originally conceived the idea of contracting to do scenic building out of the theatre for a producer. His company, the first of such scenic studios, was incorporated in 1910. MacDonald further recalled that the approximate patterns Of scenic contracting for the Broadway theatre were firmly established by 1915.18 As scenery construction rapidly became an out-Of-theatre function, there were many different types of independent shops in ' as they were sometimes called, Operation. These "specialty outfits,' specialized in the areas of carpentry, painting, properties, drapery and/or upholstery, and metal work. This development accompanied a period Of great activity which continued to increase until it peaked in the 1927-1928 season with 264 productions.19 It was during this era of the Twenties that the carpenter shops and paint shops united under one roof. They were still separate companies, however, because each had to contract separately for the work. Shortly after this, the drapery studios, as well, disappeared, and the carpenters took over the sewing of drops and ground cloths. Soon the prop shops were replaced by the incorporation of specialized mechanics in the scene shops. This, of course, saved considerably on transportation costs and facilitated more direct control Of the many facets Of the production. The MacDonald Studio is also credited with incorporating 18Albie MacDonald, o . cit., p. 115. 9Moore, 0 . cit., p. 5. 20 the scene painting aspects of scenery construction into its Operation, thereby creating the one contract system which remains today.20 As has been stated, it was the novelty of the touring combination company which gradually caused the demise Of the stock company. The new system was attacked by critics on the basis that it was a deterent to the art of the theatre. It is not the purpose of this paper to explore this argument, however. The fact remains that the theatre goer preferred the new system. By and large, the audience reacts to novelty. "The audience will react to special effects almost as intensely as to anything an actor can do. . . ."21 Harold Burris-Meyer and Edward C. Cole further state, Aside from demands exerted by playwrights in their scene plots, designers and technicians have responded to technologi- cal developments in the world outside the theatre by using new materials and devices to achieve effects. The creative urge has often been happily coupled with the competative drive for novelty to the ultimate benefit of the playwright, director, actor, and producer and to the edification of the theatre goer. It would appear, therefore, that it is the "effects" which keep the scenic studio shops active. If every show were not custom fitted with an attempt at some innovation or variation, the very specialized talents of the scenic contractors would soon be in small demand. In light of the financial risks, this purely commercial venture, typified by Broadway, which is the home of the combination production--the organization which gathers together the various 20Fred Jacoby, op. cit., p. 181. 21Burris-Meyer and Cole, 0 . cit., p. 7. 22Ibid., p. 17. 21 elements of a production which for the most part are independent and only assembled for the particular p1ay--is differentiated from non-pecuniary agencies such as dramatic arts centers funded by the city, state, or federal government. It is this commercial system which employs hundreds of artisans Operating within the theatrical industry and helps to insure the scenic contractors continued participation in Broadway production activities. In order to Offer significant background to the setting wherein the activities of the scenic contractors take place, the role of the designer is considered in the following section. The Designer's Role in Production Planning This section describes the normal circumstances surrounding the initiation of the scene building process. Implicit in the understanding of this scheme is that there are no hard and fast rules, but there are patterns which have emerged. 0f the people supporting the producer, the two principal figures are the director and the general manager. In the writer's investigations, the role Of the general manager was revealed to be far more significant and pivotal in a production than is normally assumed. The general manager is in charge of all the business transactions and acts, in many cases, with total authority in representing the producer. If the organization is extensive enough, one Of the first steps a producer will take is to employ a general manager. Whenever 22 financially feasible, general managers are members of a permanent staff comprised of department managers, bookkeepers, and clerks. If, however, the producer is small or relatively unknown, he may serve as his own general manager or perhaps even as the director.23 The playwright's manuscript is the focal point. The play- wright submits his work to a producer who, if interested in the play, moves to interest others in order to raise the necessary financial support. In some cases, the producer sees fit to generate the funding from within his own organization. In recent years, how— ever, it is increasingly the case that production procedures are implemented before all Of the monies are forthcoming, and the financial backing comes later and later. In some cases, it comes not at all. In the current combination production, the producer and the playwright discuss general requirements. Frequently the general manager becomes inextricably involved at this point. At these initial meetings, the director and the scenic designer are selected. Upon agreement, the persons selected are approached with the Offer and, if they accept, are enlisted in the production work. Immediately upon accepting a show, a designer is required to sign a contract with a producer. This contract must be filed with the union, Local 829. The designer is required to have his initial fee before he reveals any drawings or submits requests for estimates of scenery costs at the bidding sessions.24 23Bernheim, Op. cit., p. 110. 24Charles Bender, o . cit., p. 153. 23 The following minimum rates (fees) for Scenic Designer are effective July 1, 1975: (1) lat set $2,500.00 2nd set 810.00 3 through 6 each 630.00 each thereafter 400.00 (2) Unit Setting: . . . "the enclosing framework for a theatrical production which shall remain on stage for the entire per- formance. . . . If it is altered, each alteration shall be called phase." . Unit set and up to and including six phases $4,750.00 7 through 12 phases 1,900.00 13 or more phases 1,850.00 (3) Bare Stage: $ 600.0025 At this juncture, however, there may be variations in the procedure. A designer may be approached by a producer or his manager before selecting a director, or, if a director has been chosen. The director then may approach a designer. The approach may simply be with the words, "Here's a script to read." At this point the producer may not know or may not wish to tell the designer or the director how much money is available to spend on the show. In any event, once the designer's contract has been filed, the designer must proceed with his work.27 The designer and the director may confer alone, with the playwright, or with all members of the production staff. Some ZS"Agreement Between The League of New York Theatres and Producers, Inc. and United Scenic Artists, Local 829," see Appendix D, p. 317. 26 p. 1690 Arnold Abramson, private interview, see Appendix A-2, 27Appendix D, Op. cit., p. 324. 24 significant questions which are important to the designing Of a show may remain undefined upon acceptance of a script and, at times, may even remain unanswered as designing begins. Not infrequently a designer is not made aware of the budget within which he must design, the theatre or theatres in which the show will open, and, therefore, the facilities available in the particular theatre for which he is designing. There are innumerable questions a designer must answer before making the first sketches. He must confer with not only the director but the costume designer, lighting designer, and any other special designer involved in the production. These confer- ences, ideally, should be attended by the producer, and/or the general manager, the playwright, and may also include the chore- ographer, conductor, and principal actors. These conferences serve to clarify interpretations and resolve differences of opinion which affect design.28 Additional conferences with the director and other production supervisors are always necessary, as are subsequent revisions which are made until agreement is reached. Seldom is there immediate agreement. Often, a designer's ideas do not agree with those of the playwright or the director. Most unfortunately, many theatrical ventures have failed because, For the sake of an appearance Of harmony and accord, prominent and seemingly intelligent people will ignore what they know to be the basic differences of Opinion and, as work progresses, set about to achieve their own objectives 28Oscar C. Brockett, The Theatre (New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1969), p. 447. 25 by underground methods. This practice is not native to theatre alone. . Many times a budget set by a producer or production manager bears little relationship to what the designer has created. It is impossible to ascertain with accuracy how producers arrive at costs. One hypothesis has been Offered that an experienced producer determines cost by past shows. He may consider the cost of a one set show (a "one lunger") he previously produced and base his financial needs upon this comparison. If a producer fails to reveal to the designer an approximate range of expenditure projected, the designer must still proceed with the completion Of the plans. Un- fortunately, not until the show is presented for the bidding session does the production manager realize the designs are beyond the budget. Many times, scenic contractors readily sense, due to their experiences with this procedure, when a designer has exceeded the budget.30 It is desirable that an easy working relationship be estab- lished between a director and a designer who are working together on a production. Some directors give a designer great freedom, especially if they are familiar with his work. This generally results in approval Of sketches at a very early stage. The director may welcome, if not solicit, suggestions from the designer with regard to the staging Of the play. Other directors habitually 29Burris-Meyer and Cole, 0 . cit., p. 45. 3OAbramson, Op. cit., p. 175. 26 give detailed instructions to their designers and make numerous suggestions for changes as the sketches and drawings are submitted.31 A little known fact about a designer's responsibility is that any expenses caused by errors or omissions in the plans must be paid by the designer. According to scenic studio owners, the reality of the situation is that this never happens. The responsi- bilities Of the designer are stated in the "Agreement Between Local 829 and the League of New York Theatres and Producers." (A) Scenic Designer: (designs the production and renders the following services in connection therewith): 1. To complete either a working model Of the settings to scale or to complete color sketch models of the settings and necessary working drawings for constructing carpen- ter at the reasonable discretion Of the Producer or his authorized representative. 2. To supply the contracting painter with color schemes or color sketches sufficient for the contracting painter. 3. To design or select or approve properties required for the production, including draperies and furniture. 4. To design and/or supervise special scenic effects for the production, including projections. 5. To supply specifications for the constructing carpen- ter, to supervise the building and painting of sets and the making of properties and, at the request of the Producer or his authorized representative, such estimates to be submitted to the Producer or his authorized representative at a specific time. If the Designer is required to participate in more than three estimating sessions of each class extra compensation shall be paid as provided in paragraph IV (A) herein- after. 6. To be present at the initial pre-Broadway set—up and Broadway set-up days and dress rehearsals; to attend 31David Welker, Theatrical Set Design: The Basic Tech- nigues (Boston: Allyn and Bacon, Inc., 1969), p. 6. 27 the first public performance and opening out-of—town and the first public performance in New York and to conduct the scenic rehearsals therefore.32 In conjunction with these duties, the notable designer, Howard Bay, further illustrates the designer's involvement with the scenic contracting studios. Howard Bay appears to be the only designer/author who has chosen to make mention of this overlooked area. He notes that the designer's first contact with a scenic studio for any given production is the bidding session. The designer lays out drawings and/or models for analysis and estimate. Present at this session are the shop heads, each one "presumably a master "33 carpenter, a crackerjack mechanic and a grand organizer. Although Howard Bay feels that chargemen, scenic artists, and drapery men should be on hand, investigation reveals that this is never the case unless the owner is a chargeman, as is the case with Arnold Abramson of Nolan Scenic Studios. Peter Feller, owner, Operator of Feller Scenery Studios defines the term ”chargeman" as follows: The chargeman is the head scenic artist . . . is your basic head painter. The term chargeman is a union term, equivalent to foreman in the mechanical unions. His function is more than that since he consults directly with the designer in terms of color, line, form, and material to be painted upon. He's the man of decision. He may say, "It's impossible to achieve that effect on this material," so we'll have to get that material. 32Appendix D, Op. cit., p. 308. 33Howard Bay, Stage Design (New York: Drama Books Specialists, 1974), p. 128. 34Peter Feller, private interview, see Appendix A—3, p. 167. 28 The responsibility of the designer involves imparting to the scenic studios any information relevant to construction: theatres booked, delivery dates, set-up time, weight tolerances needed for given units, information relevant to scene changes, information relevant to the theatres such as placement of switch- boards and floor plans of back stage area, and, generally, any other information needed to be practical.35 Because the scenic designer's drawings most frequently display only what the finished settings should look like, the shops then proceed to seek information necessary to costing the various aspects Of the design. The meeting is adjourned; the shop pieces together an estimate composed in the usual manner of estimating man hours, materials, overhead and projet. Unlike the subjects of other estimates, no show is identical with any other show. P.S. There are no rich contractors. The estimate is presented to the management; they shout that they could build a house for that sum. The shop counters with, "Not delivered in New Haven in three weeks you couldn't!" And the whittling away at the extravagant designer starts. There are ways to cut back on costs, some logical and some illogical. In the commercial framework it is foolhardy to eliminate any mechanics that will ultimately pile on more expensive manpower in the theatre; a thousand-dollar saving in manufacture is eaten up in a few weeks of performances. The initial cost is not as vital as the Operational costs--a maxim difficult to impress on neophyte producers of plays. Also time should not be wasted fuming about the justice of the union's arbitrary decrees on how many Stagehands are required back-stage, right stage or left stage. The shop can come through with sensible shortcuts; doubling units with minor design modifications, trading in large framed units for soft hangings that are not only easier to produce but do not take time and stage floor space to assemble. Is your heart set on a cumbersome facade even though an entrance- way is all that actually performs in the action? In the conceptual period authors, producers, directors and ofttimes designers are more literal minded than the ultimate audience. 3SBay, Op. cit., p. 128. 29 The author fixed a complete, Specific locale in his mind's eye but the spectator's attention seldom strays far beyond the atmosphere engendered by the items the actors cope with. Focus is dissipated by towering bulk lumbering on and off stage. WOuldn't a nice leaf pattern projected over that porch cancel out all the dead foliage? Isn't that elaborately modeled ground row rather corny--and distracting to boot? Will the audience appreciate your incorporation of genuine mahogany veneer thirty feet upstage of the curtain line? It all calms down; contracts are signed; there is even less time to knock out the production, and in the meantime the shop has taken on a thirty-six scene venture for the Alex Cohen Office.36 In Broadway productions, complete sets of working drawings are seldom made. The requirements of scene shifting, transportation, speed of construction, and available materials have dictated the development of techniques of construction which are applicable, with minor variations, to most scenic requirements. A master scenic carpenter can construct most scenery directly from the designer's drawings. "Given a bare outline drawing of the scenery and a simple statement of its materials he can visualize the required divisions into standard pieces and the structural conformations of those pieces."37 With a few pencil sketches and a few calculations, he can proceed to construct a set. Charles Bender of Nolan Scenic Studios revealed, Very seldom do we distribute the designer's drawing to have it built. . . . I would say that ninety-five percent of the time we draw a show. Because when it comes to a flat, all we get is the outline. . . . The actual construction isn't drawn, so we have to draw the flat the wag it actually breaks up, and where it's stiffened, and so on.3 36Bay, op. cit., p. 128. 37Burris-Meyer and Cole, op. cit., p. 79. 38Charles Bender, op. cit., p. 160. 30 Howard Bay speaks to the same point. In the bustle of manufacturing working drawings and covering all work in progress the designer tends to lean too heavily on the scenic artist's expertise by sloughing paint elevations and other matter he dumps on the paint shop. Artists [in the scene shop] have covered up for designers on occasion but it's a chancy thing because the artist may gallop with many tasteful improvements if the sketch material isn't unified and fright- fully clear. Raw research should not be handed over unless you desire an exact copy of such research. Retribution will be swift if a designer airily waves his hand accompanied with the line, "0h, paint it sort of between Bonnard and maybe Turner, yes, Turner, but for the drawing follow this photo."39 Because a designer may do what Howard Bay has indicated, the writer perceives a kinship between scenic designers and scenic studio painters. To be sure, they both belong to the same union. As pointed out by Arnold Abramson of Nolan Scenic Studios, they were originally even more closely allied. Well, many years ago, before there were designers as such . . . the shop supplied a service, building, designing, and painting. Designers worked for the shop. There were no such things as a designer. The shOp supplied the scenery. There was a model room, and the people built models and painted. I believe one of the first designers as an individual was Robert Edmond Jones. And Lee Simonson.40 The advent of independent designers was a gradual process. At first, only the very well-known designers were independent. Although the well-known designer worked independently, many worked within the premises of the scenic contracting studio. Reference to this is made by Norris Houghton in a description of Robert Edmond Jones working in an upper room, overlooking the paint floor 39Bay, O . cit., p. 129. 40Abramson, op. cit., p. 169- 31 of the Old Bergman Studio on the 39th Street side of the site of the Old Metropolitan Opera House.41 Fred Jacoby of Nolan Scenic Studios recalls: Years ago, a designer was part of a scenic studio. We used to call them model men. We never used the designer's name at all at that particular time. But a designer is actually a freelance man who designed a show for some producer, should I say? Yes. He'd practically work on his own. And then the carpenter shop and the scenic studio would meet and put a bid on these shows. It was common. A lot of shops would be called in. Who, naturally, had the better price, got the job. But that was something new, completely. We never had designers years ago. What you call a designer today, years ago, he had to become a good painter first. And then he actually graduated himself to the model room. He actually had a collar and tie job after that. And they were terrific designers because they could paint. They wouldn't design anything that you couldn't point. Because they knew all the fundamentals to do for the painting.42 This relationship between designer and studio was advantageous to both inasmuch as each could predict performance procedures with greater accuracy due to the cohesive working arrangement. Aspects of this arrangement can be seen to this day. Indeed, this writer has been witness to this working relationship when visiting the various scenic studios involved in this study.43 Some designers spend all day, every day, at the contractor's shop, until the set is complete. This seems to be more prevalent with designers who are not well enough established to have their own studio. Continuation of this kinship between designer and contract studio is by no means to either's disadvantage. If a designer has 41Norris Houghton, "Credits," Theatre Arts, XXX (Nov., 1946), p. 658. 42Jacoby, Op. cit., p. 182. 43Leo Meyers, private interview, see Appendix A-4, p. 245. 32 been successful with a scenic studio, insofar as he finds his designs are interpreted to his satisfaction, he tries to direct the general manager toward this studio. Personal relationships frequently dictate to which scenic contracting studio a show will be granted. But, still, every shop has its following of favorite designers, designers who like to work with particular people. It makes their life easy, especially in the scenic artist work. It makes their life easy in the sense that they don't have to be so specific. People understand each other. "I want this kind of treatment that we did on that show three years ago or three years ago on such and such a show." There are many other factors--personality--I think personality is maybe eighty per- cent Of it, the reason why a designer likes to work with someone. Quality is important. For some of the designers quality is the eighty percent. In any case, every shop has a following. Other- wise, I could not exist.4 Thus the designer-contractor relationship has evolved into a recipro- cal arrangement whose goals involve both the aesthetic and the economic in respect to the scenic elements of a production. In summary, this section describes the relationship between the scenic designer and the scenic construction studio as it relates to the purpose of this paper. The scenic designer is the link between the producer and the scenic contractor, each an integral part of the production process. This chapter has provided a framework within which is placed the scenic contractors' studios Of the Broadway theatre. The dis- tinction between in-house and out-of-house scenic construction has been examined, and the effects of centralization and the combination system have been explained. The role of the scene designer has also 44Herb Lager, private interview, see Appendix A-5, p. 254. 33 been characterized as it related to the production of scenery by contractors. The following chapter will describe the individual histories of the major Broadway scene building houses in preparation to the analysis of the contractual building process out-of-house. CHAPTER II HISTORIES OF THE MAJOR BROADWAY SCENE BUILDING HOUSES A comprehensive study of the current scene building studios includes the individual histories Of each establishment. These accounts reveal not only the origins and development of each major studio but, in many instances, recreate the contributions they have made to the business Of stagecraft. While tracing the backgrounds of scenic building companies still in existence is essential to this work, inclusion of a famous, but defunct, studio is especially important inasmuch as this studio, MacDonald's, is acknowledged by those in the trade as a pioneer of technical theatre and was the dominant scene maker for some twenty- five years. .MacDonald Studio History Albert (Albie) MacDonald, Jr. is included in this disser- tation as an example of a studio Operation which has closed. While functioning, it was considered to be the largest facility and capable of manufacturing the most complex scenic effects. Mr. MacDonald's father, Albert MacDonald, Sr. is also credited with being the first to contract for the construction of scenery as it is done today. 34 35 Patrick Albie MacDonald, Jr. was a pioneer of the Broadway scene construction industry and the man who made the MacDonald Studio famous in the New York Theatre for over a quarter of a century-—from the 19308 until 1962, when Mr. MacDonald terminated his career. His father, Patrick Albie MacDonald, Sr., first conceived the idea of contracting for scenic construction in lieu of the producer's building his own sets, as had been the practice. Theatri- cal producers not only constructed the scenery for their shows but painted them as well, using back areas of their theatre houses for this work. Incorporated in 1910, the MacDonald Studio became the first professional scene building house to contract with Broadway producers for the construction of theatrical sets. MacDonald, Sr., with the assistance of MacDonald, Jr.'s older half brother, in expanding the business, moved from such sites as the stage of the renowned Old Grand Opera House on 24th Street and a shop nearby on 25th Street. They settled the company into permanent residence in a four-floor building on 30th Street between 10th and 11th Avenues in the 19203.1 Albie MacDonald, Jr., who had started working in the shop in 1915, became boss of the MacDonald Studio in 1932 and bought the business in 1947. He owned and Operated it until his formal retire- ment fifteen years later.2 1 p. 115. Albie MacDonald, private interview, see Appendix A-l, 2_I_b_i_d., p. 115. 36 Albie MacDonald's entry into the scene building industry was a natural result of general interest generated by his family who were all involved in theatre. Albie MacDonald brought his own particular involvement to the varied and challenging aspects of the process of constructing theatrical scenery: I loved the theatre, and I loved the whole process of set construction, that is, except for the business end, the finances. I hated the contract process and the money collecting but I loved everything else. I worked as a carpenter for a few years, but I loved drafting the best. I enjoyed doping things out. I'd get thoroughly involved, carried away. Lots of times I'd stay up until 2:00 or 3:00 A.M. designing. My father and brothers would go out and work in the theatre, but I always stayed in the shop. . . . I loved the work, up until the end, when I lost interest.3 Description of Assignment Procedure Some term definitions and brief explanations of processes may be useful here. Historically, the business of preparing scenery for the Broadway stage was divided among a number of individuals or organizations, each with special function or functions. According to Bernheim, this was the general procedure: The producer and his art director or designer agreed upon the scenic art concept for their play and drew up some general plans describing their ideas. These concepts and plans then had to be translated into graphic form. The graphics was the job of either an independent scenic designer or a scenic studio (painting studio), which employed a scenic artist. The designer made sketches, scale drawings and models, which then went to the scene builder or construction company. 3Ibid., p. 139. 37 There, sets were built from the drawings and models and then were shipped to the scenic studio to be painted. After painting, the builder ranoved the finished sets from the scenic studio, delivered them to the theatre, and assembled them on the stage.4 Bidding Following MacDonald's lead, other set builders began to enter the scenic contracting business. Competition for theatrical set construction was formalized in bidding sessions, where scenic contractors were invited by theatrical producers to bid for scene building contracts for specific shows. In the late 19203 and early 19308, sometimes five scene building shops were invited to attend bidding sessions, usually held in the designer's office, where the general manager (representing the producer, who rarely attended) and his scene designer explained the show and set to the bidders. According to Albie MacDonald: The designer Offered only a one-half inch scale elevation and ground plan and maybe details of molding, which was very little to go on. The designers didn't know how to construct anything. The designer was only interested in the result. SO, if there was a show, say, with a double turntable, I had to conceive it because the designer didn't know how to do it. In the bidding, I would think, "Now how can I do it?" If I was smarter, then I could figure it out and bid cheaper and get the contract.5 4Alfred L. Bernheim and Sara Harding, The Business of the Theatre (New York: Benjamin Blom, 1932), p. 138. 5MacDonald, Op. cit., p. 120. 38 As the manager usually wanted bids the morning after the bidding session, MacDonald delegated the basic work to his assistant, then labored into the night on special and extra details. Bids at that time consisted of one total figure covering the entire scene building job. This one-sum bid was beneficial to the builders, as it protected them financially from cuts and changes in the scenic plans made by managers and designers. "We used to be able to make money on cuts under the total figure bid, then they got smart and made us itemize."6 MacDonald's bidding formula was based on estimates of the square footage required for flats; his estimates included, also, costs of other materials, painting and labor and overhead, then he added thirty-five percent to these costs for his total bid figure. "I got thirty-five percent as a normal markup in a bid, which in- 7 (In the early days, painting was cluded profit and all costs." contracted separately to scenic studios. MacDonald was one of the first set builders to hire scenic artists and painters to do this work in his building shop. Other work, such as iron, metal and special crafts, was subcontracted. Again, MacDonald was first in bringing these trades and their craftsmen into his building shop.) The builder's portion of the contract depended upon many factors, including the overall budget for the show, the producer's and designer's particular extravagances or frugalities concerning 6Ibid., p. 120. 7Ibid., p. 141. 39 scenic art concepts and their execution, and the complexity of the sets. Most frequently, the criterion was the number of sets and their complexity. A one-set play with interior, double sliding door and cornices, for example, then would have costed out at $1,250.00 in the late 19205 and early 1930s. Another one-set show with many more complexities such as Town House (1933) cost $35,000.00. Rio Rita (a 1927 extravaganza), on the other hand, ran $45,000.00 for scenery. According to MacDonald that particular show would cost $175,000.00 to $200,000.00 to build and paint today. Musicals-- always more lavish and complicated than dramatic productions-—cou1d run as high as $65,000.00 to $75,000.00 at that time. The business of sending sets out to scenic studios for painting was a troublesome financial problem. I could make more money just building the sets, say for $10,000.00, because if I bid that amount to the producer, it didn't scare him. The problem was that the painting bid had to be included, which added, say, another $10,000.00, and this seemed like an awful lot of money to the producer. When MacDonald incorporated painters into his own shop, he, like other builders, was better able to absorb and control the previously separate and high painting costs into his operations and, consequently, into his bid estimates. MacDonald's reputation grew to the extent that often a producer and his designer would approach him directly, rather than going through the formal bidding routine. This advantage naturally ensured a continuity of business with the same clients. MacDonald 40 built all the shows for such designers and producers as Oenslager, Horn and Ziegfeld and later, built many shows for the brilliant designer, Jo Mielziner, as well as those of the famous Bel Geddes. One reason Mr. MacDonald continued to work chiefly for Broadway, even after the advent of television created an enormous amount of new volume, was his desire to retain his Broadway clientele, par- ticularly those with whom he had a working association of long standing. A singular disadvantage to having producers and designers bypass the bidding session was their use of MacDonald's favored status as leverage to force MacDonald to meet their special prices. MacDonald's Contributions to Process As a pioneer of the Broadway scene construction industry, undoubtedly MacDonald's major contributions to the advancement of the business and art of stagecraft were: consolidation and techni- cal innovation. In the early years Of the industry, the processes of scene building (from bidding session to assemblage of final sets on the stage), were numerous, burdensome, and disparate. In the course of his career, MacDonald managed to consolidate the many physically disparate functions of set construction and its painting under one operation. In addition, he created some extremely important new techniques and devices, which simplified and streamlined both the construction of sets and their operation on the stage. 41 Working conditions were eased for all scene builders when scenic designers became independent Of scenic studios and could provide more sophisticated construction plans for the builders in the form Of blueprints. According to MacDonald, he was the first builder to convert the designer's blueprints into working drawings so they might more intelligently be followed by his men. (Later, this work was done by a layout man.) The men in the MacDonald Studio consisted initially of basic carpenters and laborers but gradually included more and more craftsmen, tradesmen,and scenic artists and painters until, finally, all iron, metal, machine, and painting work was done on the premises. This consolidation was unprecedented: thus MacDonald was the first scenic contractor to oversee, in one shOp, all the aspects of scene making--from designer's blueprints to the finished set for the Broadway stage. No work was jobbed out where before, all iron work, all cornice and jigsaw work, all non-routine machine work was let--and all painting was done by the scenic studios. Facilities The MacDonald Studio, located on Thirtieth Street between Tenth and Eleventh Avenues, consisted of a four-floor building and a painting studio down the block. Each of the four floors was relegated to a special function. The basement was for storage and the first floor for making flats. The middle floor of the studio was used for built work. A particularly challenging job done here was the construction of a seventeen foot mantel for the Mielziner 42 set of Your Obedient Husband, starring Frederic March. The top floor of the studio was used for sewing, making drops,and fitting scenes. The ceiling was high enough to accommodate large sets and the rigging required to assemble them, as well as drops as large as forty by forty-five feet. Scene painting was done in the separate studio down the street, which MacDonald acquired. This acquisition marked the final step in his consolidation of all the scene-making functions. He became, then, the first scenic contractor able to manufacture a completely finished product for delivery to the theatre. Personnel MacDonald employed 150 men during peak times: about seventy- five carpenters, mechanics, and laborers; and seventy—five scenic artists and painters. Two foremen supervised the flat and built scene Operations. Carpenters, machinists, and mechanics did the skilled hand and machine work, including carving, iron and metal wOrk. They operated the lathes, planes, shapers, and the various other machinery of which MacDonald was the first to establish in a scene building shop. The laborers painted some scenery, cut and sewed drops, and did other less skilled work. The scenic artists did the crucial, Often highly technical and complex scene painting, assisted by painters of less skill and talent. Businessalways got slow at the end of the year, before Christmas, and there was always a layoff of employees. Then around mid-January and the beginning of February, it started 43 to pick up. May was heavy, and then there was a lull in the summer. MacDonald instructed his men to strive for durability, as well as esthetics, in their work, as he was aware of the rough handling sets received when shipped around the country following the initial New York run. "Today," MacDonald comments, "they glue parts together, which is unnecessary and means they're likely to come undone."10 As with all scene builders, the inevitable problem of time even then was consummate. Rarely was there a realistic timetable for getting a job out prOperly. MacDonald accommodated this problem by assigning the most difficult tasks first and thus dealing with the overtime hours at the beginning of a project. This way, at the end you had the easier stuff to do and maybe you could coast a little. If you let the hard work and the overtime go until the end, the guys were tired, they made errors, and it was just much worse all around. Besides, we didn't do one show at a time, so we always had the pressure of getting a set out to meet a deadline and to clear the shop for the next job . . . but we should have had more time.11 Scenic Designers MacDonald's opinion is that scenic designers must be brought in at the outset of a theatrical production--as a part of the original group of producer, manager, director, stage manager--so that the time problem might be alleviated. lipig,, p. 133. lolbid., p. 133. llIbid., p. 127. 44 Scenic designers also presented other problems: They could drive you crazy. If they got you the job, they often expected extra stuff from you. One designer in particular was very demanding, impossible. I finally told him Off. . . . I said, "Why don't you get Nolan, then. He was a little easier to work with after that.12 Yet another theatrical tradition which created additional time and money problems was that of the manager's having responsi- bility for the scene building: I never could understand why the producer would let the manager be in control, when the manager had no idea of what he was doing concerning scenery. The manager is gambling most of the time. How could they take such chances with people's money? It's so slipshod . . . the most slipshod business imaginable.13 MacDonald's Technical Contributions As described, MacDonald made important contributions to the internal consolidation of working procedures. His technical inno- vations are perhaps even more noteworthy as they relate to the development of the creative role of the scenic houses. 1. Rear Fold Traveller. Designed for a Ziegfeld production, its function was to slide a curtain (with a Currier and Ives painting on it) off flatly without "bunching."14 2. Inside-Outside Turntable. This innovation was designed so that an outisde turntable would move while the inside one did also. The outer table was constructed with a gear rack around it, 121bid., p. 134. 13Ibid., p. 135. 14 Ibid., p. 138. 45 and a pinion gear, plus a shaft that led to the machine that wound it up. The interior table was controlled by a man inside a screen who operated a hand winch.15 3. Piefighaped Turntable. Customarily when a turntable was used in a New York show, and subsequently the show went on the road, an advance man would have to precede the arrival of a show in order to set up the turntable because set-up was so time-consuming. MacDonald's pieshape turntable could be assembled in one hour. The construction consisted of four-foot square sections framed out of angle irons, each section with a groove in it. The circumference required sixteen sections. Each section was slipped into the angle iron frame and single-bolted on its outer edge.16 4. Sprocket Chain Wall. Created for If the Shoe Fits, the purpose was to be able to effect a look of pages turning in a book, and with each turn of the page (the new scene) such items as chairs, stoves "popped" out. MacDonald devised a two-foot elevation under which was installed the machinery. Each wall had a sprocket chain on its top and its bottom, the process of moving was along a gear back stage, down through a shaft where a man continually kept winding. Each "page" had a hook that clasped to the sprockets. The mechanical device was similar to "a bicycle chain lying down." Albie MacDonald won a Tony award for special effects for this innovation.l7 15Ibid., pp. 133 & 138. 16Ibid., p. 139. 17Ibid., p. 124. 46 5. Trial Set-Ups. The MacDonald Studio had a section removed from the roof to facilitate the building of scenes and rigging them within their own premises to ensure the proper fitting for the theatre before load out to the theatre.18 MacDonald's lean years were from 1929 to 1933, when he worked for one period of eighteen months only. His peak years with the burgeoning of television, facilities of television net- works then were inadequate to house their production activities. Because of the fact that there were inadequate facilities at the outset, scenic houses subsequently were in constant demand to render these services. MacDonald's retirement from the business was the result of a gradual accumulation of problems. Business had been declining, securing qualified help was increasingly difficult, costs were higher, the element of craftsmanship had deteriorated, and the business of bidding was becoming more devious. The business wasn't on the level anymore, and this upset me a lot. Kickbacks started, and after the bid, cuts would come, . . . the designer would cut. . . . It got crooked; . . . the manager was a bad guy. . . . I had thought about closing for two years, then I did one last show in 1962, Night Life, starring Carol Lawrence, which didn't do very well.19 MacDonald's growing distaste for the business was compounded by a city ordinance requiring installation of a new and expensive sprinkler system, plus increases in rent. 18Ibid., pp. 122-23. 19Ibid., p. 134. 47 The city got very hot on sprinkler systems, and we had a sprinkler system in the paint studio but not in the shop. The Fire Department came around and said I had to have a sprinkler system. So I had an engineer come in and analyze it, and he made up drawings and sent them down . . . and it would have cost me $125,000 . . . and I said that's it. I thought of moving back to New Jersey but you just wouldn't believe what it would have cost. . . . I would have had to rent, and they were asking $1.50 a square foot in those days--I know it's more now--so you could have paid $30,000 to $35,000 a year rent just like that for nothing. I finally said the hell with it. . . . I was tired6 and so, so discouraged at the way things change. And I quit.2 MacDonald did, however, continue to do independent projects related to his field of expertise: for example, he toured the last show he built, and just prior to his retirement he worked on exhibits and displays for the 1964 World's Fair in Flushing, New York.21 Nolan Scenic Studios Still in existence is Nolan Scenic Studios, and it is widely considered to be the number two firm in the scenic contracting business. Nolan's is owned by Charles Bender, a carpenter- draftsman, and Arnold Abramson, a scenic artist. Nolan Scenic Studios, 1163 Atlantic Avenue, is located in the heart of the Brooklyn ghetto (Bedford Stuyvesant) and is second in size to Feller Scenery Studios, Inc. It is on the site of the old Brooklyn Ice Palace which the writer recalled visiting as a child. Upon entering from a busy street through a very industrial looking portal (see photograph page 57), two defined main working 201bid., p. 137. 21Ibid., p. 126. 48 areas, one for carpentry and the other for drop painting, are immediately apparent. Nolan has two Offices diagonally Opposite each other in this quonset-shaped structure. The office nearest the entrance is the center of the operation. It is on the second floor level overlooking the carpentry area; it also serves as the drafting room. The other office is a control area for the painting of drops. Nolan's is the least pretentious of the facilities visited. There are no secretaries, and the entire operation is handled by the two owners. Historically, it has been a custom for carpenters to own scene building shOps, bringing scenic artists into their employ when they consolidated all the scene manufacturing processes in their original Operations. Abramson is probably one of the first scenic artist to co-own a scene building business. Bender is a carpenter. According to Bender, Nolan Brothers (the original name) was established by Packy Nolan, who operated the studio with his son, from 1932 to 1938. Nolan, senior, had been guaranteed business, and thus established a shop and brought his son in with him. He worked intermittently for whoever had a show. In those days, one had to be established before a producer would call. Otherwise having discovered what Broadway show was imminent, the builder called on the producer and requested work for the upcoming production. At that time, the producers usually considered only two or three shOps for bidding, based on prior knowledge of their specialties. Mr. Bender recalls, "You often got your workers when a competitor 49 laid them off. At that time, the men would run with their tool boxes to whatever show was in the works."22 After the senior Nolan died, the son, was the only one capable of runnin the business, which he did until 1956 when we moved here 1163 Atlantic Avenue, Brooklyn] and incorporated as Nolan Scenic Studios. Abramson and I became partners then, along with William Nolan and his wife . . . the other brother quit. William Nolan died seven years ago, and four and a half years ago Abramson and I bought out Nolan's wife . . . she had no part in the business anymore. Arnold and I did decide, though to keep the name of the firm.23 Mr. Bender was hired by Nolan senior in the early 19308 as an apprentice carpenter/mechanic. He has held a union card for forty years in IATSE, (International Alliance of Theatrical and Stage Employees). Mr. Bender's father also was in this business and Bender recalls a conversation with him about the influence of movies on Broadway. My father thought that when the movies came in, it was the end of theatre and scene building as a business. I wasn't sure, especially about the talkies, but I really couldn't predict about the movies--or later, about TV--so I just kept going on.24 Fred Jacoby, Nolan Studio's oldest scenic artist, believes that television hurt indirectly the theatre much more than either talking or color movies. The television networks, for example, bought out many of the old scene building houses when their volume began to diminish. 22Charles Bender, private interview, see Appendix A—2, p. 1420 231bid., pp. 145—46. 241bid., p. 166. 50 His recollections of scenic houses and their work generally supports those of MacDonald. Nolan's is the oldest in the business, and I've been around for a long time. I think the scene building operations are generally the same as they used to be, except that the type of built work has changed. . . . We do a lot more iron work than before, and so eventually, all the shops had to incorporate iron work as part of their operation. . . . All this was done within the unions, of course, within IATSE. . . . We were fairly busy over the years, though the business is seasonal, we had five very good years after World war II. . . . I remember we did three musicals at once onetime. . . . Call Me Mister was one of the fairly successful shows we did. Mr. Jacoby started in the scenic design business sixty years ago in 1914. He was paid $5 for fifty-five hours of work. At that time, Primrose and Dockstatter and the minstrels were going out and the Grand Opera was the biggest house. He recalls that the scene building business began to peak in the 19208, before the movies were so popular. Our busiest season was in the twenties, with George White Scandals in big competition with the Ziegfeld Follies and about 250 Broadway shows a season. . . . Today, there are maybe fifty or sixty shows a season. . . . Back then, The New York Times carried a full page of ads for shows . . . today, it's down to one corner of a page . . . sometimes only thirty shows are listed.26 Mr. Jacoby, seventy-five years Old, was at work.when the scenic design studios were separate from the scene building houses. Within the scenic design shops, everything was designed in the studio. The designer and modelman worked in the same room, though the shop was separate from the prop room. . . There were many scenic studios in New York City in the thirties, all on the West Side . . . the Vail Shop was in the Grand Opera House, the big theatre on 23rd Street and Eight Avenue. . 25Fred Jacoby, private interview, Appendix A-2, p. 179. 26Ibid. 51 They had the whole works in the back . . . all the paint frames were there. . . . Today, of course, we paint on the floor. . . . We also did Shubert's work. He had electric paint frames. . The Lyccum Theatre was another one which had paint frames and a studio to paint in the back of their theatre.27 In the thirties the scenic design studios began to dissolve because the scene building shops had started incorporating the painting functions within their own Operations. The Yiddish Theatre downtown was the last to give up maintaining its own in- theatre workshop. Arnold Abramson began to work for Nolan in the early 19308 as a scenic artist. In reviewing the business since then, he feels there is no historic progression, that it is a seasonal business, fluctuating between too much work and too little, although he believes Nolan's volume is sufficiently even. The chief detriment, of course, is the currnent inflation/recession. Broadway is always the first to suffer. You figure that someone coming from out of the City to see a show is going to think twice about spending the kind of money it costs these days.28 Feller ScenerygStudios Because it is currently spoken of as the largest scenic house in the United States, small wonder it was the most impressive site visited. Feller Scenery Studios, Inc. is located at 381 Canal Place in the warehouse district of the Bronx, New York. It is minutes from Manhattan via either the Madison Avenue or Third 27Ibid., p. 180. 28 p. 167. Arnold Abramson, private interview, see Appendix A-2, 52 Avenue Bridges which cross the Harlem River. Feller's facility adjoins a small fenced parking lot. The site of the working shops exceeds 80,000 square feet. Above and to one side of a large working area, resembling an arena more than a work shop, is a second floor Office space which includes the drafting area and overlooks the vast facilities. The interview was held in Peter Feller's private Office. During the same day, John Schwanke, General Manager, was also interviewed. The owner, Peter Feller, began his career in 1935 at the age of sixteen as a mechanic and carpenter apprentice in the Vale Scenery Studio. His interest in scene building was stimulated by his father, who had been in the business in Vienna before emigrating to the United States. Young Feller's career started early as a result of the financial pressures of the Depression. Mr. Feller gained extensive theatrical building experience in the army during World War II, when he travelled the world for five years as head technician for army productions, doing numerous and varied types of sets. There followed then, five years of additional training and experience in New York City, where he was head carpenter for a number of producers, such as Leland Hayward, George Abbott, Feuer and Martin, Lindsay and Kraus. In 1947 Mr. Feller opened the National Scenery Studio. He closed his shop three years later "due to personal reasons." Mr. Feller then returned to carpentry, working at night in theatres. Simultaneously, he arranged with David Steinberg, owner Of the now 53 defunct Imperial Scenery Studio in Ft. Lee, New Jersey, to make drawings for his firm at home. Mr. Feller's retrospective on this venture is, "if you don't monitor your work, they'll change it." Thus, he then became manager of Imperial Scenic Studio, a position he held for nine years, receiving a salary and a per- centage of profits. In 1957, he left Imperial to start a concern of his own. The small shop was located on Fifty-Third Street between Tenth and Eleventh Avenues, where he employed four carpenters and two artists. Today, reviewing his current problems as owner of the presently most successful firm in the industry, Mr. Feller says, "I wish I was still there." With the expansion of his business, Feller looked for larger quarters, finding a location near Yankee Stadium owned by the City of New York, which provided 166,000 square feet of space. Feller began to win important contracts for projects for the World's Fair, including the Bell Telephone System ride, the Vatican Pavillion, the Protestant Pavillion, the Light and Power Show, the Walt Disney and the Pepsi Cola rides. These shows and installations, along with others, led to financial solvency. With his reputation established, and with improved facilities Mr. Feller now assumed as many as seven or eight shows at a time. In 1970, the City having had recorded Feller's site as an empty ware— house, leased the property to an elevator parts company. The City Offered Mr. Feller other available sites, but 526,000 square feet near Pier 57 was the only plausible consideration. 54 As this location was too expensive for Feller to finance alone, he enlisted the interests of Nolan's and other scenic houses to negoti- ate its purchase together. Mayor Lindsay was interested in this prospect and encouraged efforts to help Feller. But complications with the Longshoremen halted the procedures permanently. Two months remained to find another location (his current site at 381 Canal Place in the Bronx). Having spent considerable money and time, in addition to being caught in the early 19708 recession, the situation according to Feller, "has put us behind the eight ball ever since."29 John Schwanke, General Manager of Feller Scenery Studios, Inc., informed the writer that Feller must do 1 1/2 million dollar's worth of business per year just to keep the doors Open. But most of the time they Operate "in the red because there are so many things that can't be pinned down."30 Hart Scenic Studios Hart Scenic Studios has less than 20,000 square feet. It is located at 25-41 Dempsey Avenue, Edgewater, New Jersey, ten minutes south of the George Washington Bridge. The working area is sectioned into carpentry (also electrical and metal work shop) and built work, and set-ups and scenic drops. The second floor 29Peter Feller, private interview, see Appendix A-3, p. 199. 30 p. 2240 John Schwanke, private interview, see Appendix A-3, 55 has offices in the front which overlook the building area. Mr. Hart's office is also his drafting room. The interview was conducted here with Mr. Hart and was concluded in one day. The head of the Hart Scenic Studios, William Hart, considers himself third in the industry, following Feller and Nolan. This Opinion is based on two factors: Hart's volume of business and his ability (along with that of Feller and Nolan only) to produce mechanical shows (specifically musicals). Hart's brother-in—law was Albie MacDonald, who took Hart out of school at age seventeen to work in the MacDonald Studio. Although he attended Pratt Institute to study art and design at night, he apprenticed under MacDonald in the daytime. During his years at MacDonald's Hart advanced to foreman and eventually became MacDonald's partner. Hart says, "I learned how to draw from Albie, and I copied his style." After leaving MacDonald's, Hart went on to work for Francis Messmore (of Messmore and Damon) in 1962, as a scenic artist, and after half a dozen years in that position, he established his own business. In 1968, he opened the Hart Scenic Studio in Edgewater, New Jersey, with his wife as partner. Testimony to his educational and professional experience and the reputation he gained in the employ of MacDonald and Messmore is the fact that Hart managed to do $350,000 of business in his first year of operation. I take over what they [Feller and Nolan] can't handle. . MacDonald was the biggest for years . . . then TV came 56 in . . . Albie stepped out and Nolan stepped in. But I'm third now, in terms of my volume of business.31 From this statement the writer infers that Feller and Nolan could become the only scenic studios if the Broadway theatrical industry were to shrink further. This is also possible insofar as should producers ultimately decide to use less scenery there will be insufficient work to be divided among the smaller studios. Variety Scenic Studios Variety Scenic Studios has its working offices at 25-19 Borden Avenue, Long Island City, Queens, New York. The main Office comprises a reception area, Herb Lager's office and drafting room and a display room that exhibits Variety's innovative "soft scenery" (see photograph on page 57). "Soft scenery" is a design which is sewn into material on a machine and then stretched over wooden frames. Behind the Office area is a large two—story shop (a portion of one floor is removed) for tall scenery set-ups. There is also a drapery room and a painting area. The first floor is the building area. While this physical description suggests Variety has an extensive establishment, in actuality, this studio can handle less than half of Feller's volume. Herb Lager is one of the four equal owners of Variety Scenic Studios. He is general manager and a scenic artist as well. Mr. Lager had originally worked at such jobs as truck driver, waiter, and stevedore while attending college for a degree in 31William Hart, private interview, see Appendix A-4, p. 229. 57 Plate I.-—Variety Scenic Studios. Top: Herb Lager with his Volumaform Scenery. Nolan Scenic Studios. Bottom: Exterior View. 58 59 sociology, with engineering as a minor. His first full-time job was as a trucking supervisor for NBC. In that capacity, he gained his first experience in handling scenes. In 1951, the height of the television boom in New York City, NBC bought the Warner Brothers Studio in Brooklyn and offered Lager the position of assistant scenery supervisor. I know nothing about scenery, except how to truck it . . . and my supervisor didn't know anything either. . . . No one knew he'd been fired from CBS . . . , that's how busy and tired everybody was in TV. . . . All the estimating for the NBC shows was done in Brooklyn, and my supervisor just wasn't qualified to do it. I was able to struggle better than he was. I was unsure of myself, very afraid, and I felt guilty about doing it. But then, there weren't too many people qualified to do it anyway. . . . Actually, I was officially head of the prop department. Brooklyn had twice the space of anything in New York, and we were doing sets from $50,000 to $70,000.32 Mr. Lager feels that learning to overestimate was a major contribution to his business acumen; moreover, he suggests that his childhood interest in model airplanes gave him a sufficient understanding of designer plans, and where he was technically un- trained he nevertheless was able to "create innovative ideas." Because of this success, Mr. Lager sought to establish his own business. I found some other men. We had an idea, a lot of experi- ence and good reputations. So we put up $6,000 ($1,000 a piece) and got started.33 The initial contract of the new company was with Bell Telephone. 32Herb Lager, private interview, see Appendix A-S, p. 278. 33Ibid., p. 279. 60 We costed their shows for a three-year period and came up with a $9,000 average. Then we went to Bell and found they were doing sixteen shows the upcoming season . . . figured we were well covered on $10,000 per show and offered them a $160,000 blanket contract for the season. What we didn't count on was that they switched their designer . . . and he was heartless, unbelievable. So we lost $42,000 on the con- tract, but it gave us our start. Mr. Lager's first shop had only 7,000 square feet. Lager, nevertheless, points out that although the Bell contract loss nearly bankrupted him he had acquired contacts and friends suffi- cient enough to allow his company, in one month, to move to a site with 32,000 square feet. Shortly he and his partners were doing well over $1 million in business a year. Actually, what we were doing was building toward our disaster. We were competing against the networks, especially NBC, and networks do have personalities and NBC hated me. Every show we did for them was a fight. . . . They made life as difficult as possible for us. We did Broadway shows for less than cost in order to get the business, and we were also competing against an independent house for the independent TV work. All our bidding was at very low cost . . . and the original $6,000 startup money wasn't enough, reallyé so with all this added together, we finally went bankrupt. Lager discounts the "bankruptcy outcome,’ with the reasoning that it was merely technical because IRS took over the company's $4,000 bank account. Mr. Lager dissolved the company and moved to a new one. The new Lager company is the current Variety Scenic Studios, which Mr. Lager and three other partners started in 1970 in Long Island City. Lager is general manager. His three partners are 34Ibid., p. 280. 35Ibid., p. 281. 61 supervisors of construction, draperies, and scenic artistry, respectively. Mr. Lager agrees that Feller is first in the industry and Nolan second, in terms of size, years in the business, and general experience. Contrary to Mr. Hart's self—designated third place rank, Mr. Lager feels that, "after [Feller and Nolan] it's hard to say. I think we're number three and sometimes first, for example, in draperies." Whatever Variety's position in the industry, Lager is a man who "loves the theatre, nothing can match the business we're in." This attitude is reflected in the fact that he teaches at Pratt Institute: "I love teaching--there's always a relevancy of stagecraft for anyone in the theatre-and also, I'm good at teaching.‘ As discussed earlier in the introduction to this study, there were some subjects reticent to expose aspects of their businesses, and how they developed. This failure was true, even to the degree that some merely limned their histories. Francis Messmore was one of these; hence, the brevity of background material here. Messmore and Damon Scenic Studios Messmore and Damon Scenic Studios is located at 530 West Twenty-Eighth Street, New York City in the Manhattan warehouse district close to the Hudson River. The facilities were reminiscent of a trolley car terminal, with high ceilings and windowed walls. At the time of the interview there was little activity. Only a few 62 employees were at work on what appeared to be an outsized model of a cup or bowl. The interview with Mr. Messmore was brief. After serving in the army, owner Francis Messmore of Messmore and Damon Scenic Studios at 530 West 28th Street, New York, New York, assumed the business his father had started in 1914. The time of Messmore's takeover was 1946. Messmore's father had worked on the Panama Pacific Exhi- bition in 1915, after which time he went to California for extended "theatre experience," but he subsequently returned to New York and engaged in Broadway scenic work. Francis Messmore indicates, how- ever, that the major portion of his father's work was devoted to "outdoor work," specifically parades, building floats and other similar work. Messmore Sr., was also involved in department store displays, particularly in creating Christmas extravaganzas. Ap- parently, the effect of "talking pictures" on the eminence of Broad- way caused Messmore Sr. to seek work outside of legitimate theatre. Before Francis Messmore became the head of his father's Operation, he had worked as a stage hand. He worked for Albie MacDonald after MacDonald closed his shop and continued to do special projects, such as the World's Fair. Mr. Messmore ranks Feller and Nolan first and second, suspects that Variety does as much work as Hart, yet concludes that the "numerical designation doesn't mean anything." Atlas Scenic Studio, Lt'd. Atlas Scenic Studio, Ltd. is less than an hour's drive from New York City, located at 10 wall Street, Norwalk, Connecticut. The 63 facilities here are small in comparison with the formerly described studios (less than 10,000 square feet). There are two small offices on the ground floor. One is a combination reception/secretarial area; the other is Leo Meyers' office and drafting room. At the time of the interview, the studio was just completing work on the set of Don't Call Back. The interview with Mr. Meyers was concluded that day. Leo Meyers, co-owner of Atlas Scenic Studio, Ltd., (the only other firm with the ownership combination of Nolan) shares his site at 10 Wall Street in Norwalk, Connecticut, with his partner who represents the carpentry aspect of the business. Meyers started his career as "a kid in summer stock, painting and designing scenery." Prior to his entry into live theatre, he had studied in the theatre department at Carnegie Tech. He pursued his profession after his apprenticeship in summer stock, as a designer for regional theatres around this country and on Broadway and in Canada. It was during this course of experience with regional theatres, that he gradually became attracted to the idea of becoming a scenic contractor. At that time, he met his present partner, with whom he worked in theatre in Palm Beach. The working relationship between the two men was successful, not only as a combination but in dealing "successfully with other people." The outcome of their association was the decision to create a partnership. After agreeing to the establishment of a contract service for scenery building, the next step, as Mr. Meyers 64 recounts it, was to seek out the area in which to settle, and to consider the scale of business in which they wished to engage. Mr. Meyers and partner began their operation originally in a site other than Norwalk, but nearby. At the outset, they had no contract with any theatrical outfit. Yet they both felt, "we knew enough people in the industry . . . that we could get work. We weren't unknown to many designers, managers, and the like . . . we had worked with many of them." Atlas Scenic Studio, Ltd., began in 1964 and moved to its present site in 1967. Mr. Meyers reports that both partners were financially involved in starting and extending the business. He declines to discuss whether or not there are, or have been, any other partners, saying he would "rather not go into all of that." This chapter has provided a history of each of the scenic studios interviewed. Each interviewee recalled both biographical information relevant to his becoming involved in the industry and information both factual and anecdotal related to the development of each scene building house. The following chapter further analyzes the data gathered from the interviews and presents a description of the contractual process. CHAPTER III BIDDING, CONTRACTS, AND UNIONS IN THE SCENE BUILDING HOUSES It has been observed that "waste, inefficiency and undue extravagance Often run up costs without improving the production from the artistic standpoint, while lessening its chances of financial success."1 This assessment, while expressed during the heyday of grand theatre, has almost surely not lost its relevance today. It appears that "personalities and pressure" combine to force this situation almost every time a producer contracts a scenic designer to draw plans, and a scene building house bids and receives the play assignment. The problems are not simply just those of getting a play at the last minute and then having to deal with production at the scenic house while dealing with the frustration of a scenic designer. The intervention of union conflicts, materials' prices, poor com- munication between producer and scenic designer, failure of under- standing between scenic designer and scene builder, and lack of information as to which theatre the play is assigned are only a few of the complexities. 1Alfred L. Bernheim and Sara Harding, The Business of the Theatre (New York: Benjamin Blom, 1932), p. 138. 65 66 Bidding,Se§§ions Bidding sessions constitute the initial constraint. Peter Feller calls the business of bidding "the biggest crap shoot in the world." It is evident in the last few years that theatre money has become more and more difficult to raise for production. Because the funds are not in hand early enough, bidding sessions are arranged later and later, and production time is cut shorter and shorter (Securities and Exchange Commission regulations require that a producer cannot advance any money toward production until the entire sum is raised).2 For reasons of time, certain shOps (notably Feller's and Nolan's) know in advance that because of the extraordinary time factor they will get the job--not on the merits, necessarily, of a specific expertise, but due to the fact that only certain shops have the capacity to handle rush jobs. Implicit among all houses is the understanding that most designers and producers prefer certain scenic studios over others, and that certain shows are automatically the property of these houses. Specifically, Jo Mielziner is known to work almost exclusively with Feller's (as is Boris Aronson). Nolan's claims Oliver Smith as an adherent. William Hart works consistently with Phillip Rose. Hart points out, "Every shop has its following. It's eighty percent personality in this business." An Observation repeated among all houses in regard to assignment of sets is that if they are extravagant or complicated, "Feller's or Nolan's will get it." 2Peter Feller, private interview, see Appendix A-3, p. 204. 67 Because such shops' Specializations are known in this closely-knit, small trade, it follows that the practice of "upping the bid" may occur when one house knows that another house has a show "in the works" (or is about to be loaded out) at the time of bidding for a new show. For example, if shop "A" goes into a bid- ding session for show "Y" and is currently working on show "X" which must be delivered on the first of the month, shop "B" goes into the session knowing this because his bid on show "X" was un- successful. Shop "A" normally will have to submit a higher bid if show "Y" has a delivery date shortly after show "X," realizing his current responsibility. Shop "B" will, therefore, increase his bid, trying to still maintain the low bid, to establish a more comfortable profit margin. For this reason, as Peter Feller points out, "All bids are dangerous." Bids, of course, are not open, and one competitor has no way of knowing what his rival may submit in the way of prices. Producers (and/or theatrical general managers) and scenic designers commonly demand itemized bids. An itemized bid, without question, requires more time to prepare. It also creates compli- cations as to which scenes of effects must, if necessary, be eliminated. Peter Feller claims, "That on multi-set shows, because the budgets don't fit the show, the producer may have to cut scenes. If I were to give a lump sum bid I could eliminate anything." Single sum bidding is the normal procedure for one-set shows. Each scenic house itemizes differently according to its house speciality or expertise, or to its own method of breaking 68 out costs. Thus, when the many bids are finally in, it is not rare for the general manager representing the producer to try to parcel out scene assignments according to the best price bid by the studios. In most cases, owners and managers of scenic studios refuse to work this way. They may, however, submit a reduced total figure bid. Or the scenic designer simply is forced to cut costly scenes--sometimes up to as much as one-third or one-half. The Process of Bidding The steps involved in organizing a bidding session are relatively simple. Whatever scenic houses have been chosen to enter a bid are called by the producer's general manager, or by the scenic designer, and invited to appear at a designated place and time. Usually the meetings are held in the scenic designer's studio, the producer's home or office, or at the rehearsal hall.3 The smaller the show (and the requirements of the scene building) the more likely the smaller studios are to be called in. Charles Bender's view of this is, "If they call all the competition, then the callers aren't experienced in the business."4 Herb Lager recollects his first entree into Broadway theatre: "The producer would only consider us if our price were lower. We lost money on our first two shows."5 3MacDonald, op. cit.,;L.120 (see infra, Feller, p. 205; Schwanke, p. 221; Messmore, p. 299). 4Bender, op. cit., p. 142. 5Lager, Op. cit., p. 256. 69 At the bidding session the scenic designer presents the concept of the scenery and goes over the drawings he has made. Questions concerning the types of materials, and construction the designer has in mind are then posed by the bidding studios. Feller's general manager finds that this question period is subse- quently dangerous, for many inquiries important to the drawing up of an intelligent bid are omitted. "In trying to control for extras," he says, "you have to be careful about getting it in the bid price originally." A respectable amount of time in which to work out the figures on a bid for a show would be from three to four days. In this time the studio would be able to figure proper lengths of lumber, amounts of custom work to be undertaken, and quantities of paints and materials necessary to complete the sets without assuming profit loss. Herb Lager remarks, "You hope they give you enough time to give a fair estimate." But, in practice, pressures seem to be such that many studios are forced to phone in estimates to the producer in as little as one and a half days. Once a scenic house's bid is accepted, a contract is drawn up. The producer then issues a check to the scene studio in the amount of one-third of the agreed upon total production figure. While Arnold S. Gillette believes, "The work of the technician cannot really begin until all the designer's plans are in his hands: sketches; ground plans; elevations; and detail drawings,"6 6Arnold S. Gillette, Stage Scenery: Its Construction and Rigging (2nd ed.; New York: Harper & Row, 1972), p. 13. 70 this writer finds a keener insight into the role of the master scene carpenter, for example, is in Harold Burris-Meyer's position that with "a few pencil sketches and a few dimensions calculated on scraps of paper, he can proceed to construct the set."7 In fact, in many cases, the actual inception of the real, finished plans occurs only when the scenic designer and the scenic studio agree upon the final drafts they have mutually worked out. If the detail work is within the original budget, the studio's purchasing agent orders the appropriate materials, and construction begins. The Reigtionship Between Studio and Scenic Designer It might be reasonable to assume the existence of conflict between two creative forces such as the scenic designer and the scenic studio. This problem appears, however, to have a broader base than merely opposition of talent and will. Many scenic studios cite problems such as a designer's misconceptions about the economics of actual construction, inability to understand what mechanics are involved in various aspects of building, outright attempts "to slip in extras" as John Schwanke, Peter Feller's General Manager, observes. Not the least time-and-money consuming aspect of the problem is simply that of pure whim. Peter Feller recalls, to this point, a situation involving the production of The Ritz. The producer had requested an elaborate 7Harold Burris-Meyer and Edward C. Coles, Scenery for the Theatre (Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1966), p. 79. 71 one-set. Upon completion of the set, the producer insisted upon having it redone in its entirety. The re-working was completed in one day, but it consumed the efforts and union pay of ten men. The changes included new colors, additional carpets, a change in facings (because the producer objected to certain reflections from the lighting). Last minute alterations in this case amounted to $12,000. This "eleventh hour" theatrical recreation speaks well to the "waste and undue extravagance" mentioned earlier. Many studios feel that scenic designers do not oversee the scenery production as thoroughly as they might. Not a few suggest that younger, busier scenic designers are considerably delinquent in this area. Other scenic designers are considered to devote the appropriate amount of attention to ensure a mutually successful outcome. Apparently an optimal relationship is one in which there is direction and contact, but no interference, and no last minute changes. John Schwanke emphasizes the abilities of all scenic houses' creative workers who are successfully able to undertake the confusing and complex proposition of translating the concept in the "scenic designer's mind, even though it's been transferred to paper, and then build a set." In specific, Mr. Feller says of his men and their work that they are uniquely and consistently able to "substi- tute imagination for money." Problem of Payment While "running up costs without improving the production from the artistic standpoint" is an essential contention of the 72 criticism cited, there is a more major problem of concern to the scenic studios. It is centered in the producer custom of "one- third" payments to the studios. The second "third" is paid out to these Studios midway through the completion of the sets. But the last payment has been, in too many instances, too long in coming, or simply, not forthcoming at all. Peter Feller says, "Getting paid is the most nagging problem of all," for producers, "May order extras without the money to pay you." Or as Feller's General Manager describes the situation, "We have to do everything in good faith . . . a Show runs over because of what a producer or director wants and then they don't use the stuff, and they say they don't want to pay." William Hart describes this consistent failure to pay as contributing to the formation of The Theatrical Contractors Associ- ation (see Appendix B for list of members). This group created their charter for basic economic protection. Prior to its inception, according to Hart, a studio commonly might never be paid its last third portion because no monies were forthcoming if a play was not a hit. In such cases, the producers and their affiliates had Simply dissolved the corporation they had formed to finance the play in the first place. As a counteraction, the scenic studios have had to resort to using this owed payment "as a holdover--to force them [producers] to give you their new Show." Through this alliance, nine member houses are now able to wield some form of financial power against theatre producers, directors, and scenic designers. The members have conjoined to 73 decline a bidding session when they are aware a producer has failed to complete his payments on a former show. This action is taken on the premise that it will force producers to make good their debts. Some houses take private measures to deal with the failure- to-pay problem. Peter Feller employs a full-time lawyer to sue producers for fees. Charles Bender feels he has little recourse in this situation. He uses a lawyer only if he senses he has a chance to reclaim some of these lost monies. His experience has been that the probabilities of recovering the failed payments are fifty-fifty. At the outside, after five years (if a show had not been a hit, but has sold music rights), then he may regain some portion but "it comes in dribs and drabs." Nevertheless, Charles Bender, for one, will deliver a show without final payment, simply, as he characterizes it, "because the sets are taking up space." The point Mr. Bender makes is that all seasoned scenic building companies are accustomed to the standard theatre apologias. "We know all the stories but we let the show go out." History shows that Albie MacDonald foresaw this area of risk early: "The manager had no idea of what was going into the show." And the business of unfair or biased awarding of assignments embittered Albie deeply, most particularly the "kickback" procedures. Francis Messmore, no longer so intimately involved in legitimate theatre, has a softer view of producer and affiliates. "I don't think the producer knowing about scene operation would change anything--he's busy getting money and may have the rug pulled out on him in the last minute." 74 In contrast to those who feel this pinch acutely where "third payment" is an issue, is the attitude of Leo Meyers. Invited to build the scenery for Don't Call Back, he had no notion as to whether there had been previous formal bidding sessions. According to him the Show was brought together in a rush, and, although he has been at sessions where other companies competed, he has also participated alone on other occasions, solely with the producer and scenic designer. His view is that shows are "handled differently with different managers." A point for consideration is his approach to the business of billing: he is alert to the speed with which a show can fail and a producer can go bankrupt. For this reason, he expedites contract payments quickly and efficiently so that "every- thing is in order." Otherwise you can be in trememdous trouble. . . . Extending credit is a shaky situation. It's a precarious business at best, even when all is going well. So it is very important to stay on top of that aspect. The important thing, of course, is to have clearcut agreements right from the beginning.8 It is clear that Mr. Meyers manages his operation scrupulously. His production outlay normally involves only two shows a month, a musical, and then a one-set. In such a fashion, he overcomes some of the counterproductive experiences encountered by the more "rushed" organizations which cater to the "rushed" nature of New York City theatre. Mr. Meyers, when changes arise during construction of sets, attempts to develop the invoice before the show is shipped, so when 8Leo Meyers, private interview, see Appendix A-6, p. 293. 75 the Show is shipped, everything has been taken care of. Specifi- cally, "changes are noted, changes agreed on with the manager. . If we see we have a need for a change, we notify the manager immedi- ately and an agreement is reached." Unions Two major unions in New York City are involved in the business of scene building: United Scenic Artists, Local 829 of the Brotherhood of Painters and Allied Trades; and the International Alliance of Theatrical and Stage Employees (IATSE), Locals One and Four, primarily. Local 829 includes the scenic artists and painters, as well as scenic designers, costume designers and lighting designers, IATSE includes carpenters, mechanics, electricians, stage hands. These union members comprise the work force of the scene building industry and are, therefore, a crucial factor in management considerations concerning all operations within their studios. Management must adhere closely, for the most part, to union regu- lations. They must also provide attractive working conditions-- to say nothing of the nature of the work itself--to avoid losing some union members to competitors. AS explained and emphasized earlier in this study, the economics of the scene building business is precarious at best. This ever present reality obviously affects union members directly-- not in terms of the money they earn, for that is scaled by their unions--but in terms of the fluctuating nature of their working 76 schedules. As Peter Feller says: "In considering the steadily increasing prices of Broadway Shows one can't cut union wages, only the need for their services." All the scene building owners interviewed commented on the need to cut back to skeletal staffs in slack seasons, in periods when their particular business is depressed or in times of general economic recession. Thus, except for the most valuable employees, most union members must expect to be unemployed for certain periods of time during the year. Some men can avoid this problem by moving to a more active shop, when their current employer has to reduce his staff. Others must simply accept the seasonal nature of their chosen careers. Since union wages, particularly for Local 829, are relatively high and since union members can generally find work outside of scenic building houses, their situation is, in the long run, not so untenable. Scenic Studio Owners' Relationships With Their Employees Many scenic artists (Local 829) and mechanics and carpenters (IATSE) are devoted to their work. MOst of my staff, oddly enough, are dedicated to their craft. Otherwise, they couldn't turn out the work they do. I'm proud of the product my men produce. Some craftsmen, like any other talented craftsmen, have many aptitudes, they can do more than one thing well. They may not want to, but, usually, they will.9 Mr. Messmore, quoted above, is not so felicitous in his regard for the younger men now entering the business. He views 9Francis Messmore, private interview, see Appendix A-7, p. 299. 77 the younger generation as being attracted only to higher pay and shorter working hours. Implicit is his sentiment that younger people do not have the same esthetic interest in, and capacity for, the creative work as do the older men. Charles Bender culls his men either from "these young men who go to Yale.and Carnegie Tech and then pass the union exam" or from apprentices. He no longer trains men in his studio. The unions, of course, still train apprentices and they constitute a source of talent. Mr. Bender indicates, however, that this practice may in fact have a delimiting effect on access to potential ability, for unions are literally closed to new members unless all of their shop men have full employment. At Nolan's studio not everyone is a union member, but if one is not, the worker has a permit. Mr. Bender expresses, too, dissatisfaction with some workers. He sees older painters, for instance, as being more productive than younger ones. Herb Lager's attitude toward his long-time employees concurs with that of Francis Messmore. His people, to him, are devoted to the industry. IATSE members obviously can command higher wages in the housing industry, but Mr. Lager perceives his workers as being involved with shop work even to the exclusion of actual in-theatre work, although several work at both.10 Peter Feller's General Manager describes the employee situation in their shop as "one big family here. I'd say twenty 10Lager, op. cit., p. 250. 78 percent of our men work because they like it; the rest do it for money. We have the best artistic talent in the world." William Hart's chief concern about his people is their disregard for cost. "They don't steal; they're just careless and sloppy, so hardware--tools and screws and stuff--is a big waste. Our bigger problem, though, is getting the men to work more slowly ' Hart seems to make no distinction here so they'll reduce errors.‘ between the old-time employees and the young men coming into the business. Scenic Studios' Views of Unions as a Whole All the owners of the six major scene building houses are members either of Local 829 or IATSE. As a result, while they have certain problems with the unions, they are also loyal and sometimes sympathetic to them. In spite of this fact, however, Local 829 seems to create financial and psychological discomfort for all the studio owners, Local 829 pays its members considerably more than does IATSE. (Tables 1 and 2 show wage scales for Local 829 and for IATSE. Appendix D is a copy of a current agreement between Local 829 and the League of New York Theatres and Producers.) Mr. Hart believes that scenic artists make too much money. It is true that they have a cost of living clause in their contract and, their salaries are increased every six months. The Brotherhood (Local 829) gets $11.96 an hour plus double overtime and IATSE gets $7.46 an hour and one and a half overtime. Mr. Hart feels that 79 these men do not "cooperate" in his lean times. He suggests a certain rigidity of regulations, such that if a worker other than a union man were to paint a set, the union would walk out, and that the theatre would not accept the work either. In short "the union doesn't give an inch." In contrast, he finds the carpenters (IATSE) are amenable. Herb Lager views the scenic artists as extraordinarily influential. The scenic artists have no power with the networks, but they have great power with us. We're weak compared to the networks, and we have to pay these people more than the net— works do. As a result, the scenic artists make more money than they could anywhere else.11 Mr. Lager feels, as does Mr. Hart, that the carpenters work industriously. The problem of union rules plagues Mr. Lager as they regard the Local 829 members. He points out that, with building, some non-union or other union members could do the work well enough but that such is not the case with scenery painting. Local 829 will not tolerate any interchange of functions. Charles Bender claims that a scenic artist makes approxi- mately $23,000 a year on an average, and that their group is less lenient than the mechanics. According to Peter Feller, some artists make thirty-five to forty thousand dollars a year, and carpenters normally make nine or ten thousand dollars a year less than scene painters (see Tables 1 and 2). Mechanics (carpenter's trade name) working in television are equivalent in pay to those llLager, 02. cit., pp. 257-58. 80 TABLE l.--Wage Scales for United Scenic Artists Local 829 of the Brotherhood of Painters and Allied Trades.* Old Rates (estimated) New Rates (Sept. 6, 1974) Weekly Daily Hourly Weekly Daily Hourly Scenic Designer $642.78 --— --— -__ --- --- Chargeman (Scenic Artist) $566.35 $113.27 $16.18 --- --- $18.35 Journeyman (Scenic Artist) $418.80 $ 83.76 $11.96 $441.05 $88.20 $13.57 Shopman $190.32 --- —-- $200.42 --- --- * All work a 6'5hour day, five days a week. These rates include six percent vacation pay and 8.64 percent cost of living increase every six months. 81 TABLE 2.--Wage Scales for Carpenters Union, Local 1 and 4 (IATSE). Minimum Rates (1975 Figures) Carpenter (35 hour week) Foreman (35 hour week) Apprentice (35 hour week) $7.46/hour plus 4 percent plus 4 percent $9.46/hour plus 4 percent plus 4 percent lst year - $12 2nd year - $16 for vacation pay retirement and welfare benefits for vacation pay retirement and welfare benefits .OO/day .OO/day 82 working on Broadway. Only with the artists is the pay differential so remarkable. Artists have fixed hours for the day, cost of living increases, and a review every six months. Therefore, television is more attractive to the painters because the work is steady, and, quite commonly, it is twenty to thirty percent cheaper to paint a television Show than to paint a Broadway Show. Peter Feller's union employees have discrete functions except for one overlap (in sculpturing). Concerning relations between the two unions, one studio owner observes that these two unions on many occasions choose not to assist each other unless severely pressed for time, and usually only with the implication that their mutual help will not be reported to their respective unions. Peter Feller sees painting as the single most expensive aspect of the business. He reiterates that their union contracts are the most expensive. A scenic painter makes $10 to $16 an hour--and certainly more yearly than a mechanic. Leo Meyers faults Local 829 for requiring two artists (a Chargman and a Journeyman) on the premises at all times during working procedures. Mr. Meyers, nevertheless, reflects the general consensus of scene building owners in acknowledging that everyone must be a union member to work in a studio. Without exception, studio owners are union members, and quite fundamentally they "feel duty-bound" to uphold and oblige the union restrictives. A singular union problem worthy of mention is the conflict of interest engendered by those shows that come here from abroad. 83 The original sets are shipped here. The unions resent this practice because, obviously, it deprives them of work. This resentment is exacerbated by the fact that such an arrangement is not reciprocal. Shows shipped abroad must have new sets made wherever they play. There have been efforts to rectify this inequity, but currently the situation is in stasis.12 Herb Lager describes the inequity as basically unfair. He feels foreign sets Should come in, but that American plays should go out of our country, too, as originally conceived and built. If a set is of quality, and its intrinsic esthetics are key to the magic of the play's sense and mood, it is deleterious to tamper with any aspect of its special totality. Mr. Messmore, who rebuilt sets for Sherlock Holmes, recalls that the reconstruction was undertaken for the physical reasons that the British sets did not meet New York City's fire regulations. Evidently this reason was the only justification for rebuilding. The nine-member Theatrical Contractors Association mentioned earlier in this chapter figures importantly, if indirectly, in union business. In concert, the nine houses represent a formidable pressure when unions attempt to negotiate for increases. Charles Bender indicates that unions request a new and escalated contract every three years. Mr. Bender's position is that with their (the scenic builders) new alliance (established in August, 1973) the 121bid., p. 268. 84 unions must now contend with the reality of a "very selective employer."13 This chapter has discussed the contractual system inherent today in the life of the contracting studios-~and subsequently inherent to the commercial theatre of Broadway. The process of contracting has been shown to link, by definition, the producing organization and the unionized artisans of the scenic studios. Aspects of this system, the relationship between the scenic designer and the scenic Studio, the relationship between the producing organization and the scenic studio, and the relationship between the studio employee and the scenic studio owner, have been explored. Chapter IV more closely analyzes the operations relevant to the process of building scenery. 13The "selective employer" is the nine-member Theatrical Contractors Association, see Appendix B, p. 307. CHAPTER IV SCENIC STUDIO OPERATIONS The heart of the business of scene building is, simply, building scenes. Building procedures followed by each scenic house are similar, but all owners or managers interviewed spoke of the uniqueness or atypicality of almost each new building assignment. Particular abilities of each studio, space allowances of their facilities, number of employees are determinants, too, of the nature of their building assignments. The essential characteristic of every scenic studio's procedures is the tenuous economic situation: whether it be today's soaring prices for materials, overhead, union payroll, abbreviated time for production and load out, miscalculations engendered through the rush of last-minute bids, or the earlier mentioned producers' failure to pay the last third (and, in many cases for extra effects requested after the contract has been drawn). Sequence of Construction The building process is preceded by the scenic studio's analysis of the actual building production. Briefly, this review includes the number of sets required, the degree of complexity involved in the actual building, a fundamental scheme for shifting scenery, and a decision as to which scene should be built first. 85 86 The sequence of construction follows from the plan of first scene to be built. Some owners chooSe the most difficult scene. Normally the next part of the process would be construction of units that will be shifted by flying. Following this, is construc- tion of settings scheduled for involved and time-consuming painting. Of course the more easily, rapidly built scenery is reserved for the last. Proper execution of all Steps includes adequate time for trial setups of the scenery and subsequent adjustments in the rigging and stage hardware. Carpentry Scene construction is chiefly a specialized type of joinery. The character and applications of scenery require a combination of artistic talent and thoroughgoing mechanical aptitude that "make scene construction a craft by itself with which the ordinary carpen- ter or cabinet maker is unfamiliar."1 The carpentry effects must be demountable and portable, yet, at the same time, Show no evidence of joining. And not least of all, there cannot be re-fitting or re-cutting when the scenery reaches the stage. Scenic Artist AS discussed in Chapter IV, the scenic artist in the scenic studio commands a fee considerably greater than mechanics and carpen- ters. This differential can be attributed to the imposition of their 1Burris-Meyer and Cole, 0 . cit., p. 88. 87 union's regulations, but it would surely be unrealistic to argue the extent of their contribution to the sense and mood their painting creates for the play. Stylizations, paint applications, varying uses of textural effects (muslin, velours, canvas, styro- foam), how colOr is to play in relation to lighting, techniques of brushing (such as dragging or scumbling) are fundamentally highly perfected "instruments" of the painter's craft. The syn- thesis, the brilliant coming together of all the elements, is the artistry. Every scenic studio has an "artist" and a "carpenter." Without a perfect mesh of the two, a producer's directives, a scenic designer's concept remain abstract and inert. The act of coming to life takes place in the scenic studio. Scenic Studio Fagilities and Personnel Feller Scenery Studios, Inc. occupies 83,000 square feet of area in a Bronx facility and must support an overhead of $10,000 a week "simply to keep the doors open." At present, the Feller company has a base staff of twenty-eight which works fifty-two weeks a year-and an additional fifty to sixty people who are taken on during peak work times. As Feller's is the largest scene building house in the East; its hierarchy of workers appears to be more tightly defined and assigned than does that of other houses.‘ There are five foremen: one heads the metal shop, four others run the "building" of scenery. In addition, and paramount, is the Chargeman who is the Head Scenic Artist; he directs the 88 painting shop. Peter Feller explains that the term "chargeman" is a studio's name for the basic head painter (in union terms, this is the equivalent to the foreman who directs the functions of the "mechanics"). But, Mr. Feller points out, "A chargeman is more than a foreman," because he makes the critical decision about color, line, form, and material to be used in the creation of scenery. In addition to the five foremen and the one chargeman, the Feller house has an office staff to handle union, state, and federal government paper work and billing. Another department, the Drafting Room, is operated by his nephew. Here, assignments for the breaking up of shows and of handing out to the working groups on the floor are given. It is the five key foremen, how- ever, who organize these working groups that take on each show, for as "supervision is a problem . . . they take the load off [Peter Feller]." According to Peter Feller's general manager, John Schwanke, the Studio does not employ a shop electrician but has on staff men to wire the lighting which is not part of the lighting design. This is lighting attached to the specific scenery for the show they are building. This might involve interior or exterior practical lights (sconces) attached to scenery walls, Specialty lights as those found around the "Kit Kat Klub" arch for Cabaret, or the small lights used only for decoration as those lights on the bar of The Magic Show. Other specialized capacities are also found within the iron shop: welding, pipebending, molding, and finishing. 89 Nolan Scenic Studios occupies 32,000 square feet, and employs a Staff ranging in number from fifteen to sixty. Charles Bender's partner, Arnold Abramson, is the chargeman, and Mr. Bender is the builder. Among his employees are six leadmen. The Nolan Studio has an overlap in art and carpentry, particularly in the area of sculpture. Mr. Bender's opinion is that distinguishing between the abilities of carpenters and scenic artists is a point- less exercise as capabilities emerge according to the type of show his company is building. Mr. Bender is also the draftsman. He makes all working drawings for the men in his shop. The scales start at one-half inch to one foot, and range up to three inches to one foot. For this reason he feels that scenic designers can- not find fault in his company's workmanship, for even "molds are carefully turned on a lathe." William Hart of Hart Scenic Studios operates in 22,000 square feet and employs twenty-three men. He has one chargeman and two additional scenic artists. Mr. Hart is the foreman, and he breaks down the assignments and hands them out to the electrical, carpentry and iron shops. In addition to the shops, he employs four layout men. At Variety Scenic Studios Herb Lager is one of four working owners. Mr. Lager is the General Manager-Supervisor of the shop. The three other partners control construction, draperies department, and scenic artist studio. The facilities occupy 27,000 square feet, not including a storage warehouse of 8,000 square feet. At present 90 Mr. Lager employs twenty-five to thirty people, some of whom are office staff. I Leo Meyers is his company's scenic artist and he shares an owner-operator relationship with his partner. His facilities occupy short of 10,000 square feet. His peak employment number is forty but can diminish to a Skeletal crew of eight when business is slow. His company is divided into painting department, drapery department and his administration staff. Francis Messmore of Messmore and Damon Scenic Studios (Damon is deceased) works directly from the plans given to him by scenic designers. Only occasionally does he make simple drawings, if necessary. At the present time he employs five men: two scenic artists, a chargeman, and an artist. Other men on his payroll are engaged in work not involving theatre. Building Process in Scenic Studios "The builders must devise the practical methods by which the artists' conceptions can be produced on the stage, and their experience is a valuable asset to the producer. No two jobs are exactly alike, and great ingenuity may be required to construct workable sets."2 The ingenuity commences at the moment of agreement between scenic studio and the scenic designer. The studio purchases the appropriate materials, lumber, hardware, plastic, and paints. Drawings are gone over very carefully among the working members. 2Alfred L. Bernheim and Sara Harding, The Business of the Theatre (New York: Benjamin Blom, 1932), p. 138. 91 Construction drawings are rendered by the foreman, the draftsman, or, in some instances, the layout men according to the particular assignments-structure of each scenic studio. Details of the drawings, of course, depend upon the compli- cation and exacting measurements of each design: some may be relatively simple, others quite intricate. Sets are then built to these specifications, after which, in rough structure (before the finished carpentry) they are pinned or hinged with hardware. The sets are then taken apart again and covered with fabric, then reassembled. It is not until this time that they are painted. Upon completion of the painting, there is the trial set-up, after which the sets are loaded out and transported by professional theatrical truckers to the theatre. "When the scenery is delivered to the stage for rigging and shifting, scenery and property crews are brought in . . . a master carpenter travels with the show on tour and makes sure the scenery is kept in good condition."3 In Peter Feller's Operation the delivery and setting up is managed by one of his master carpen- ters who works with the theatre master carpenter. Mr. Feller notes that there are occasions when the producer's manager will seek Feller's recommendation for a theatre master carpenter. Generally the actual in-theatre set-up takes one to two days; and one set requires the work of head carpenters, one head electrician, one head property man, and a crew of twenty men. 3Oscar C. Brockett, The Theatre: An Introduction (2nd ed.; New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, Inc., 1969), p. 469. 92 William Hart of Hart Scenic Studios views his building process as distinct from his competitors. His system consists in taking a set, breaking it down into flats and platform. All measurements are then laid out on sheets, even to the extent that nails' and braces' positions are indicated. A layout man then lays out an entire show on a bench (after it has been drafted). A second man machines the work, a third man places it on a template. Following, it is hinged on a stage. At this point a builtman (cabinet maker specializing in ornate workmanship) adds cornices and other special carpentry effects. Then all the discrete pieces are assembled. The sets, now having been covered with fabric are ready for the artists' painting. Upon completion of the painting, the scenery is moved out for loading. Scene Building C9§£§ In the early 19308 it was "estimated that from seventy-five to ninety percent of the sets used by first-class producers are specially made for each production and consist entirely of new materials."4 Today's estimation might bring these percentages even higher according to the opinions of many builders since re—use of materials is rare. Herb Lager recalls an auction that brought only $225 for $60,000 worth of scenery. Infrequently are there areas vast enough for scenery storage. Nolan's Charles Bender believes that because this business is primarily one of custom work, one must overbid for mistakes. 4Bernheim and Harding, 0 . cit., p. 138. 93 William Hart sees every show as being new and different, so every- thing must be custom made. Albie MacDonald recalls that, "George Jenkins [a designer] used to be a nut on getting special materials. You wouldn't know the price of this but would have to get the bid together overnight." Francis Messmore argues for more control by producers over their scenic designers: "When plans are released to shops we can't say you [the scenic designer] don't need an Austrian drape." Leo Meyers of Atlas cautions against experi- mentation as it is extremely costly, and difficult to figure in estimating the production. In addition to the impracticality of attempting to re-work custom sets for a new production, plus the storage problem, and general difficulties in determining the appropriate figures for custom detail, scenic houses are beset with other overcost outlays. There is the basic skyrocketing material prices endemic to any industry in today's inflation. This factor is especially re- markable under the pressure of the fast bid system. Herb Lager points out that prices of materials go up between bids (so one has no financial point of reference from one bidding session to the next) and can even increase at the time the contract has been signed. Another problem for many scenic houses is that they are not sufficiently capitalized to own special, automated machinery, particularly necessary to the production of musicals. Specifically, it is the electric winch which determines a scenic studio's ability to bid on certain types of musicals. This device automates the 94 shifting of much scenery and, thereby, eliminates the necessity of many stage hands. Herb Lager of Variety Scenic Studios estimates that the cost exceeds $3,000 to manufacture one electric winch. Peter Feller of Feller Scenery Studios, Inc. owns 150 electric winches of this type--Variety Scenic Studios owns only one. Thus, the smaller studios must rent this equipment at exorbitant prices or be forced not to bid on such shows.5 Then, too, all studios suffer attritional losses in expensive machines and tools such as carbide saws. Peter Feller comments that loss also is due to theft. Although his company employs the services of both a purchasing agent and a stockman who keep track of items headed out during dailywork routines, there is a two percent loss in material per year. Most other companies do not have even these safeguards. Financial Aspects Contrary to the implied profit capability of the preceding critique from the 19308 and a more recent statistic that "the largest single outlay in preparing for opening night--accounting for normally over twenty percent of the total--is the building and painting of scenery"-6 it may remain doubtful that such profits redound to the men in the business of building scenery for theatre. 5Lager, op. cit., p. 263. 6Thomas Gale MOore, The Economics of The American Theatre (Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1965), p. 51. 9s Feller's Scenic Studios and Nolan's are notable among those houses willing to discuss the financial aspects of the business. Feller's company estimate of the amount of business brought in per year is "over $4,000,000-but we Operate in the red because so many things can't be pinned down." The mark—up practice is ten percent, but as to actual yield, according to Peter Feller, "in this business you settle for five percent profit." His view is that if one makes one mistake and he loses, he cannot approach the producer with a cost override as one is able to do in many other businesses. In short, one is "stuck with his contract." Mr. Feller claims to have lost as much as $15,000 to $20,000 on mistakes made in a precarious bidding situation. Charles Bender, on the other hand, costs his work on the basis of square footage for built sets. If he is dealing with platform building, he multiplies the surface area times its height. Mr. Bender projects his total volume at $1,000,000 a year. Yet with general inflation, overhead, union scale, and elevated material costs, he emphasizes that the business "used to be money-making fifteen years ago. Now we're just existing--making a salary and that's it." It is an interesting sidelight that Albie MacDonald, who was forced to close his shop, marked up all work thirty-five percent (a figure arrived at based on cost of rent, maintenance, materials, and quantities of paint, plus, of course, work hours). He says flatly he does not believe Peter Feller's figures, but is informed 96 that Charles Bender of Nolan's, does indeed charge by the square foot. William Hart also charges the square foot breakdown for flatwork (this is "where you make your money"), but differentiates between it and built work such as cornices, furniture, windows, doors, and especially staircases. This kind of work is complicated, as he sees it, and therefore he figures his charges on the basis of time. Francis Messmore, who positions his company as working quite apart from Broadway theatre, reveals little about his financial operations but asserts, "We're solvent, we run a tight ship," and that in planning his work he deals directly with the scenic artists' plans in order to save his company money. Leo Meyers of Atlas and Herb Lager of Variety do not touch at all on their financial situations, outside of discussing the commonly shared problems of the scene building industry. Clearly there is more to the question of profit margin than simply markup. As originally stated, to accommodate the demands of grand set building a studio must provide Space, and space is overhead. But so is payroll, cost of materials, and the like. In the highly personalized and pressured business of scene building losses are incurred directly due to the outright peculiarities of the trade. The Scenic Studios' View of the Business John Schwanke of Feller's sees the business of theatre as living on pressure. One consequent of this environment is evidenced 97 in the coordination of the studio office with the men working on the floor. Schwanke estimates that with the tensions men work under, with differing personalities, and with the limited time that the studio usually has to build a Show, a "slip of the tongue" might cost them $1,000. Generally the consensus among the heads of scene building studios is that the nature of the show to be built, and the talents of the men building it, are controlling factors in whether a company profits or loses. Charles Bender of Nolan's observes that, "the cheapest way to get a visual is with backdrops such as [is used] in a ballet; a piece of rag hanging with painting on it." His view is that the least costly way to achieve a built show is simply to use stock flats but that almost all, today, are built with cornices, stairways, and that these constructional appurtenances are, or can be, compounded by dimensional requirements. Herb Lager feels that the three-year run of That Champion- ship Season brought his sets undue attention simply because the play was successful rather than for the intrinsic esthetic value of the sets themselves. Francis Messmore prefers to find business outside traditional theatre, feeling that when "you get a Broadway show, it consumes you completely." And Leo Meyers cautions that the scenery depends on factors not always under ones control such as time, budget and workers. In the case of Feller's operation, work embraces much more than scenery for Broadway productions. Built effects for outdoor amusement parks, pavillions for the World's Fair and Disneyland 98 projects are among some of their "outside theatre" work. And, of course, economics is the determinant of these ventures, too. In discussing his contracts for Disneyland productions, Peter Feller judges that it is "better to keep the doors open and lose $1,000 a week than shut them and lose $2,000;" and in connection with taking on a third theatrical set (as opposed to his stated optimum of two shows at a time), it is "better to take a show and lose money than pay overhead with the doors closed." This chapter has focused upon the building of scenery and ' the problems which perennially plague the studio owners. Finally, a brief analysis of their business was offered by the various interviewees. The concluding chapter follows. CHAPTER V CONCLUSION This dissertation has examined the very important contri- butions of those scenic contractors for the Broadway theatre who comprise the continuing and unflagging force responsible for the building of the many varied and complex set designs for innumerable productions. The writer has offered historical data which gave impetus to the inception of the contractual process for out-of—house scene building. Incorporated within the many descriptions are illustra- tions of the problems which have contributed to the shaping of the production procedures found in this little known area of the theatrical industry. The role of the designer has also been characterized with reference to his involvement with the scenic contracting studios. Owner's or operator's responses were dealt with as they related to some of the writer's many queries concerning the following personal areas: (1) his initial involvement in theatre and scenery building, (2) his own experiences relative to trends and economic conditions, and significant productions, (3) the skills imperative for success, and (4) the successes or failures within the functioning of his own business. They also responded 99 100 to questions relating to business: (1) the size of the studio, (2) the number of shows per year, (3) the amount of annual business, (4) the size of the enterprise, and (5) the number of employees, to mention a few. The individual operations of six of the members of the Theatrical Contractors' Association have been investigated. Included additionally has been a description of the MacDonald Studio which no longer exists. Histories of each of these houses have been_re1ated. Included in the history was the origin of each studio and its chronological development. In the case of MacDonald Studio, significant contributions to the business of contracting for theatrical productions have been noted. Included have been descriptions of the scenic studios and scenic studio personnel. The studio administrator's point of view was also considered with respect to the process of building the scenery, and the employment of carpenters and scenic artists. A description of the two unions involved has been effected, and the relationship between studio owners and operators has also been explored with regard to the impressions of the members of the Theatrical Contractors' Association. Illustrated in an earlier chapter is the atmosphere in which most of the processes of scenic contracting and building take place. The very crucial significance of the bidding session has been characterized in detail, and the risks inherent within this key step of the production and contracting process have been carefully examined. 101 The ambition of this dissertation is that the material contained herein bears significant evidence to this writer's observation that the men and women who have brought Broadway scenic production to a highly refined artistry are those people who have received the least recognition. A very specific case in support of this took place in 1947 on the production of If the Shoe Fits, based on the Cinderella story. Albie MacDonald developed the complex sprocket-chain mechanism which successfully changed the scenery, but it was the producer of the play, Leonard Sillman, who applied for and was granted the patent on the apparatus.1 Scenery is one of the few tangibles in theatre. Physical things are more easily criticized or attacked. By attacked is meant that a producer may feel money can be saved by deleting it. The producer may not bargain with the union as to the rate he is willing to pay for a specified number of stage hands, but he is able to dispense with their services by decreasing the complexity of the scenery. One of his more concrete alternatives is to simply use less scenery. He informs the designer that he feels all that scenery is not necessary for a particular effect. He uses his prerogative and decides, ". . . he can play it with a vignette set."2 Peter Feller of Feller's Scenic Studios, Inc. observes that it is difficult for theatre seats to bring in more money.r Some observers feel the prices are keeping people from the theatre even 1MacDonald, o . cit., pp. 123-24. 2Feller, op. cit., p. 209. 102 now. "Even a hit must run a year at capacity in order to return the original investment."3 If the unions are not willing to cease escalating their wage scales, the only alternative is to cut the need for the services of the union's members--whatever form they may take--stage hands or scenic artists. "Nobody wants to stop doing shows, but they must be done differently."4 In view of this, the writer feels that the days of the grand spectacle are numbered. Increasingly, the "budget show" is becoming a sought-after theatrical business venture as opposed to a show requiring a great deal of financial backing. This significantly contributes to the increasing number of show—case productions, Off-Off Broadway, and, in the writer's experience, Dinner Theatre. These productions, scattered and transient as they are, are better able to escape the watchful eye of the unions and can mount a production on the proverbial shoe string.5 Of course the productions away from the mainstream of Broadway express absolutely no sympathy for the precarious business of scenic contracting. The scene building business for the Broadway theatre can be considered fragile in the sense that if a studio were to fail to successfully bid any Broadway shows for a period of time, activity would soon be halted, the doors would close, and bankruptcy would shortly ensue. 3Ibid., p. 208. 41bid., p. 209. 5Lager, o . cit., p. 266. 6Feller, Op. cit., p. 217. 103 This is a pressure business. "Theatre lives on pressure."7 This observation by Peter Feller of Feller's Scenery Studios, Inc. relates to yet another facet of the precarious nature of the scenic contracting business. He refers to the weak financial reference point which not only includes the increase of prices of material, a product of the recent inflationary spiraling of prices, but the guesswork about the types of material desirable and the invariable lack of time to compute with sufficient accuracy the scenery production costs. Prices of materials were increasing between the time of the bid and the time at which the contracting studios went out to buy the same material to build the show contracted. These are the economic conditions which force most scenic contractors into the position of having to take ". . . any kind of work in order to support theatre and continue in theatre."8 As has been demonstrated, the scenic studios are compelled to meet the exigencies characteristic of the industry of scenic building. Conflicts with unions, producers, and scenic designers, the pressure of due dates, the costs of materials, and the paucity of profits are highly charged deterents to the practice of scene building. Notwithstanding the impediments of this business and the lack of renown experienced, the devotion to theatre prevails. The scenic studio owners, with few exceptions, respond to its challenge.9 71bid., p. 212. glpig., p. 207. 9Lager, op. cit., p. 277. 104 The outstanding characteristic of scenic studio work is perhaps the incomparable synthesis of original conceptualizing and their interpretive capabilities, such as described by Arnold Abramson of Nolan Scenic Studios. With scenery you get a sketch. The designer may or may not be able to put on paper what he wants. You might get sketches with a lot of notes on the side, "Do this lighter or darker. Smoothcnrblend," whatever. There's much more freedom involved, much more interpretation, not all cut and dried. . . . It's a challenge . . . to work with a new designer because, at the beginning, you may or may not hit what he wants. He may or may not himself be able to put it on paper. He may not be able to explain it to you. . . . There are some designers who,10 without a good shop, doing a good job for them, would be lost. It is the writer's conviction that comprehension of the theatre in its artistic totality must include an understanding of the extensiveness of involvement and thoroughness of craftsmanship-- the singular attributes of the scene building houses. To this point, the writer suggests that so long as Broadway endures, so too will the scene building houses. Furthermore, it will be their continuously conscientious and critical work which, in the words of Robert Bergman, faithfully unite on a hitherto empty stage and come alive in joining with the actor and the director, when you can see what is good and bad in what you have already done, when the refitting and the retouching and the restaging take place. That is when a production suffers its real birth pangs and that is when the excitement of the Stage reaches its highest pitch.ll 10Abramson, o . cit., p. 170. 11Norris Houghton, "Credits," Theatre Arts, XXX (Nov., 1946), p. 660. 105 Indeed, just as this dissertation reveals a body of infor— mation seldom studied before, the data presented suggests areas of .research wherein future investigations should prove extremely fruit- ful. Perhaps the least investigated and most expansive area left in the business of theatre is that of the theatrical unions. This writer finds they are the most secretive of unions. The constant concern of studio theatrical contractors and Broadway producers is the ever-increasing costs for man power which is decisively and irrevocably union authorized. The point has long since been reached at which there are only a select few employed and many more union members are on the ever increasing roles of the unemployed. Critical analysis of union activity and goals might reveal important information significant to the future of the scenic contractors and even commercial theatre. Another area, perhaps more limited, is that of the bidding process, that is, competative bidding on the part of scene builders in order to win a contract to build a show. In many instances, the bidding process is merely a charade, and the studio owner and operators know it. James Hamilton of Design Associates in Lambert- ville, New Jersey informed the writer in a personal interview that, due to his distance from Broadway, one of the first things he tries to determine when he is invited to submit a bid is whether or not the bid is "rigged."12 Although unethical, this practice is more 12James Hamilton, private interview, Lambertville, New Jersey, October, 1974. 106 common than most would imagine. The writer has been informed by three of the studio operators, all wishing to remain anonymous, and the retired Albie MacDonald that more often than not those attending the bidding session have an idea before hand if they are going to be granted the Show. Despite this knowledge, they all have agreed-—especially the largest studios--to attend these meetings. The writer's information reveals that this is in order to satisfy the legalistic implications surrounding these sessions. Former illegal activities surrounding the bidding session have caused investigation by the office of the New York State, Attorney General, L. Lefkowitz. This area of research might seek to reveal those character— istics present which would force honest men to "rig" bids. A close analysis of producer-designer/scenic builder relationships may offer constructive criticism which could improve the contractual system. A most pragmatic and well-focused area of research concerns the new type of soft scenery which is velcro material sewn in a skilled fashion and streched over a wooden frame. The development has been pioneered by Variety Scenic Studio.13 This area offers much in light of the rising costs of materials and transportation. FUrthermore, as a significant, new contribution to the art of scenery construction, it is worthy of investigation. 13See Appendix E, p. 339. 107 To be sure, a most expansive area, formerly investigated, and deserving of updating is the trend of Broadway's decreasing activity as concerns the number of productions per year. Brooks Atkinson states: The number of ticket brokers was about two hundred in 1930, it was seventy-eight in 1967. Also the number of new productions continued to fall. In the first six months of the 1969-1970 season, there were only eleven productions, and of these only two were hits. In November--traditionally one of the high points of the season--ten of Broadway's thirty-six theatres were dark. Variety reported that Broad- way was operating at 46.5 percent capacity. The talents of the Broadway director, the scene designer, and the producer are, by and large, all exceptional. But the writer wishes to express that, without the tireless, inspired, and ingenious productions by artists of the scenic studios, the Broadway theatre would not have that special Splendor of visual mood. The fact that Broadway may be experiencing a downward turn has, in this writer's understanding, no effect whatever on the consistency of excellence provided by the masterful work of scene building companies. The total experience of bringing to oneness the "story" of the play, the actors' interpretative characterizations, and the audiences' responsive interactions occur not without the evocative force of sensitively executed sets. ". . . If Broadway has a world-wide reputation for excellence and smoothness in stage decoration a . 15 great share of the credit must go to these master craftsmen. . . ." 14Brooks Atkinson, Broadway (New York: Macmillan & Company, 1970), p. 456. 15Houghton, op. cit., p. 657. 108 These are the artists who must take the scene designer's concepts and transform them into the artistry of the finished sets upon the theatre stage. BIBLIOGRAPHY 109 BIBLIOGRAPHY Books Atkinson, Brooks. Broadway. New York: Macmillan & Co., 1970. Baumol, William J., and Bowen, William G. Performing_Arts: The Economic Dilemma. New York: Twentieth Century Fund, 1966. Bay, Howard. Stage Design. New York: Drama Books Specialists, 1974. Bernheim, Alfred L., and Harding, Sara. The Business of the Theatre. New York: Benjamin Blom, 1932. Bieber, Margarete. The History of the Greek and Roman Theatre. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1961. Brockett, Oscar C. The Theatre: An Introduction. 2nd ed. New York: .Holt, Rinehart & Winston, Inc., 1969. . History of the Theatre. Boston: Allyn Bacon, 1968. Brown, Thomas Allston. A History of the New York Stage. Revised edition. New York: Benjamin Blom, Inc., 1964. Burris-Meyer, Harold, and Coles, Edward C. Scenery for the Theatre. Boston: Little, Brown & Co., 1966. Cheney, Sheldon. Stage Direction. New York: The John Day Company, 1928. . The Theatre: Three Thousand Years of Drama,_Actipg and Stagecraft. New York: Longmans, Green & Co., 1952. Dickinson, Thomas H. The Theatre in a Changing_Europe. New York: Holt, 1937. Dingwell, Wilber. The Handbook Annual of the Theatre. New York: Coward-McCann, Inc., 1941. Dunlap, William. History of the American Theatre. New York: Burt Franklin, 1963. Eustis, MOrton. Broadway_lncorpgrated: Theatre as a Business. Dodd Mead & Co., 1954. 110 111 Farber, Donald C. From Option to Opening. New York: Drama Book Service, 1970. . Prodpcing on Broadway. New York: Drama Book Service, 1969. Fuerst, Walter Rene, and Hume, Samuel J. Twentieth-Century Stage Direction. Vol. 1. New York: Benjamin Blom, 1967. Gassner, John. Producing the Play. Revised edition. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc., 1953. Gasciogne, Bamber. World Theatre. Boston: Little, Brown, & Company, 1968. Geisinger, Marion. P1ays,,Players and Playwrights. New York: Hart Publishing Co., Inc., 1971. Gillette, Arnold S. Stage Scenery: Its Construction and Rigging. 2nd ed. New York: Harper & Row, 1972. . An Introduction to Scenic Design. New York: Harper & Row, 1972. Gruver, Bert. The Stage Manager's Handbook. Revised edition. New York: Drama Book Specialists, 1972. International Exhibition of Theatre Art. New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 1934. Lawrenson, T. E. The French Stage in the XVIIth Century. Manchester, England: Manchester University Press, 1957. Lounsbury, Warren C. Theatre Backstage from A to Z. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1967. MacGowan, Kenneth, and Jones, Robert Edmond. Continental Stagecraft. London: Benn Brothers, Ltd., 1923. MacGowan, Kenneth. The Theatre of Tomorrow. New York: Boni and Liverwright, 1921. MacGowan, Kenneth, and Melnitz, William. The Living Stage. A History of the World Theatre. New York: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1955. Manzius, Karl. A History of Theatrical Art. Vol. II. New York: Peter Smith, 1937. . A History of Theatrical Art. Vol. VI. New York: Peter Smith, 1937. 112 MOore, Thomas Gale. The Economica of the American Theatre. Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press, 1968. Nagler, A. M. Sources of Theatrical History. New York: Theatre Annual, Inc., 1952. Nathan, George J. The Theatre of the Moment. Teaneck, N.J.: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 1970. Nicoll, Allardyce. The Development of the Theatre. 5th ed. New York: Harcourt, Brace & Javanovich, Inc., 1966. Oenslager, Donald. Stage Design: Four Centuries of Scenic Invention. New York: The Viking Press, 1975. Parker, W. Oren, Smith, Harvey K. Scene Design and Staga Lighting. 2nd ed. New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1968. Payne, Darwin Reid. Design for the Stage. London: Feffer & Simmons, Inc., 1974. Poggi, Jack. Theatre in America. The Impact of Economic Forces, 1870-1967. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1968. Roberts, Vera Mowry. On Stage: A History of Theatre. 2nd ed. New York: Harper and Row, 1962. Rosenfeld, Sybil. A Short History of Scene Design in Great Britain. Totowa, N.Y.: Rowmer & Little, 1973. Seldon, Samuel, and Rezzuto, Thomas. Essentials of Stage Scenery. New York: Appleton, Century, Crofts, 1972. Simonson, Lee. The Art of Scenic Design. New York: Harper Brothers, 1950. The Staga is Set. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1932. Southern, Richard. Changaable Scenery. London: Faber and Faber Limited, 1932. Stell, Joseph W. The Theatre Student: Scenery. New York: Richards Rosen Press, 1970. Stevens, Thomas Wood. The Theatre from Athens to Broadway. New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1932. Vardac, A. Nicholas. Staga to Screen. Cambridge: Harvard Uni- versity Press, 1949. 113 Welker, David. Theatrical Set Design: Basic Techniques. Boston: Allyn & Bacon, 1969. Worsthorne, Simon Towneley. Venetian Opara‘in the Seventeenth Century. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1954. Articles and Periodicals Houghton, Norris. "Credits." Theatre Arts, XXX (November, 1946), 657-660. Marks, Claude. "Calling of Craig." Theatre Arts, IXL (September, 1957), 78-82. Mielziner, Jo. "Practical Design." Theatre Arts, XLII (March, 1958), 15—18. Saracool, John. "Strange Visionary." Theatre Arts, XXXIV (June, 1950), 48-51. "Stage Design." Encyclppedia Britannica. Vol. XXI (1959). Unpublished Material Henderson, Mary C. "The Theatre and the City: A Study of the Evolution of the Theatrical District in the Urbanization Of New York City." Unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, New York University, 1972. Other Sources Abramson, Arnold. Personal interview. Nolan Scenic Studios, Brooklyn, New York, March, 1975. Bender, Charles. Personal interview. Nolan Scenic Studios, Brooklyn, New York, November, 1974; January, 1975. Berritto, Mario. Personal interview. Lincoln Scenic Studios, New York, New York, March, 1975. Feller, Peter. Personal interview. Feller Scenery Studios, Inc., Bronx, New York, December, 1974. Hamilton, James. Personal interview. Design Associates, Inc., Lambertville, New Jersey, October, 1974. Hart, William. Personal interview. Hart Scenic Studio, Edgewater, New Jersey, January, 1975. 114 Jacoby, Fred. Personal interview. Nolan Scenic Studios, Brooklyn, New York, February, 1975. Lager, Herb. Personal interview. Variety Scenic Studios, Long Island City, New York, January, 1975. MacDonald, Patrick Albie. Personal Interview. Leonia, New Jersey, December, 1974. Meyers, Leo. Personal interview. Atlas Scenic Studio, Ltd., Norwalk, Conn., February, 1975. Mielziner, Jo. Telephone interview. New York, New York, January, 1975. Mitchell, Patrick. Telephone interview. National Scenery Studios, Springfield, Va., February, 1975. Schwanke, John. Personal interview. Feller Scenery Studios, Inc., Bronx, New York, December, 1974. APPENDICES 115 APPENDIX A TRANSCRIPTS OF INTERVIEWS WITH SCENE BUILDERS 116 117 APPENDIX A - l Answering Questions - Mr. Albie MacDonald MacDonald Scenic Studios Interviewed By - J. Collom 35 Clenwood Avenue Date - Dec. 1974 Leonia, New Jersey Q. This is Patrick Albert MacDonald, formerly of MacDonald Scenic Studios. And everybody calls him Albie. This morning you told me about when MacDonald started. It started before the turn of the century? A. Yes, that's right. Q. And how far back do you go? A. I remember going there as a boy on 38th Street, when I was a kid, maybe ten or eleven years old. You see, they were in 39th Street, and they were upstairs in a loft, but I only know this as history. But they kept getting bigger and bigger, and they had to move. They moved down to 30th Street between 10th and 11th Avenues. Q. When? A. They moved down there; they were incorporated in 1910. I was six. It was about 1916. I would say. Q. And you took it over in 1928? A. Myself? No, I went to work for them in 1924, and then I took over the place in 1947. But in 1932, I became the boss. In other words, I ran the place. And in 1947, my half brother who owned the place retired, and I bought the place from him. Q. Was this a larger place than it is now? A. Oh yes. We had four floors in the building. Q. About how many square feet? A. It was 100 by 75 times 4, about 30,000 square feet. And then later on, when we took on the paint studio, you know years ago, you built and you didn't paint. You built, and you Shipped it out to a studio that painted. A place started out called Studio Alliance. And they got ahold of these designers and gave them office space free, and Opened a studio. And then they drilled and painted and drilled into the producer's heads that they were saving them trucking. 118 Q. Where was this? A. It was on 39th Street, between 8th and 9th. It was originally the New York Studio and, then, the Studio Alliance. Q. You could just walk the scenery over? A. Yes, but the Scenic Truckers wouldn't let you walk anything. The way we Started, years ago, each producer, Erlanger, Dillingham, they all had a theatre. And they had their own crew of technicians, a carpenter, electrician. And they built their own shows in the theatre in the off season. Now, the Lyceum Theatre over on 45th Street--which was Froman's Theatre,--Dan Froman, he was a big theatrica1--they had paint frames in the back of the theatre. And they had bridges across, and you would tack the drops to the paint frame and then these artists worked on the bridges, and you raise and lower the paint frame. My father was the first one to start a contract shop. He worked for an actor. But at any rate, he got the idea of contracting for the scenery instead of having to do it in the theatres, having each producer do his own. So he was the first one to start a shop. Q. When you started a shOp, I was going to ask you about peak years. My history tells me that the twenties were busy years. Do you remember any outstanding years when you felt you had too much work? A. Oh yes. That would be in the twenties. Because the Depression was in 1929, 1930, 1931, 1932. No, it was after that. Q. What year did your father start the contracting business? Was this after you were in the business or before you were in the business? A. No, this was before. See, he had the business, and then T. B. MacDonald, who was my half brother, worked for him. And then he took it over, and their original shOp was in the Grand Opera House which was on 24th Street. Q. They didn't have much room there? A. For instance, in those days there was alot of drops. And there was alot of cutting of them, for foliage, and all that. They used to use the stage of the Grand Opera House during the day to lay out the drops and cut them on the floor, and the Opera House was on 24th Street and the shOp was on 25th. It was in the same building. 119 Q. But they had designers doing this? A. No. The scenic artists, the scenic studios had model makers, and everything was done with models. Q. No blueprints or anything? A. No there wasn't. There were no designers, as such. In other words, the director and the guy who wrote the thing would get together with the scenic studio, and they would go over it and when they would make models, painted and everthing else, and that's how you started in. Then, in later years, the designers started in. Q. There were designers working at that time, but they were all working with--? A. They were part of the scenery studio. But I'm not talking about Jo Mielziner; he came later. Q. But there were guys around like Robert Edmund Jones, and Norman Bel Geddes, but they didn't work with the guys that started all this at the Grand Opera House? A. No. In other words, after the designers started, then the scenic studios didn't do it anymore. It became blueprints, and the scenic studios, all they did was execute it, the designers sketches, and so on. Q. Is there an approximate year thatewerything seemed to fall into the same pattern it's now in? A. I would say around 1915. Q. Do you remember the best of times and the worst of times? A. Yes, the worst of times was 1929 to 1933. Our shop, we had nobody working, only myself, for almost eighteen months, we didn't turn a wheel. We had a place which you could eat off the floor. Q. Did you find the peak years after the war? A. Yes. In my estimation, as far as my place was concerned, the real peak years were when TV first started. Q. You did work for the studios? A. They had no facilities. And you could keep your place going twenty-four hours a day if you wanted to. They were begging you to do the work. And we were busy, busy for about three and one-half to four years 120 doing nothing but TV. We did CBS, and NBC. And it was just like a mill TV,--it still is. They'd keep using stuff over and over, and they add to, you know. And they would send down a truckload of stuff to us with drawings, how this is going to be used, and then a certain amount of it would be new. We'd have to build the new stuff and then send it down to the paint studio, paint it and out the door. Q. Was this around the thme you started your own place? A. No, this was afterwards. I took over the operation in '47. Q. TV wasn't really hot then. It didn't start until the 'SO's. A. That's right, yes. Q. I wanted to ask you what you felt were the most important landmark shows? Which made it look like you were going to be rich? Some guys have certain shows, like for Feller it was the World's Fair. A. '39, that was. That's the old One, not this new one. That was '39. He didn't do anything in this one. Q. I didn't realize he was talking about the old one. A. Sure, he was talking about '39. I don't know what he did. I worked for General MOrors then. They automated their whole exhibition. Q. In '39? A. No, in the last one. In '39 I did some stuff that didn't amount to anything. Q. In other words, you don't single out any particular production? A. The biggest, the one that gave me the most satisfaction, is The Great Waltz. That in it's day was like a $450,000 production. Unheard of in those days. Q. Is that what it cost? A. Well, the entire production, costumes and everything. But nowadays, that doesn't mean a thing. Q. Do you recall, off hand, some of the Broadway shows that you've done? A. We did all of Max Gordon's work. He was a big producer. He produced--we did all of Dillingham's work; we did all of Ziegfeld's work. Max Gordon produced The Great Waltz, that's why his name came to mind. 121 We did a Show called Lady in the Dark which was a beautiful thing. Gertrude Lawrence was in it. And it was a fantasy, and we did things in such a way that peOple appeared and disappeared. Q. Did you ever keep a list of some of the shows that you did? A. No, I don't have a list. Q. Feller listed everything he did since 1962. He seems to be pretty recent. A. He was in business once with a guy named Gebhardt, and I bought all his machinery. But he tried to buy it, but he didn't want to pay enough. He wasn't like me. I went over and paid them a good price. When I closed up I brought in the auctioneers. I didn't bother trying to sell it piece by piece. Q. A good time then, was right around TV time. I wanted to ask you something about the process of your shop when you ran it. Just the mechancial and functional. Did you do anything in a specific order, or did you just jump on it and start working all at once? A. It depended on the design. Many times, for instance, when they did The Great Waltz, they designed the second act first. And they even would design Act 11, Scene III before Act I, Scene I. Q. So you started working on it before the design was completed? A. You had to, before they finished designing the whole show, many times. But if the design was complete, the first thing we did was start the layout for the men to start working on. Q. Maybe we should start with a bid, and take it right through? A. Well, of course, the first thing you did was bid on it. And sometimes they had five shOps bid on it. Q. When was this? A. This was all the time. They still do it. Q. When was this The Great Waltz? A. That must have been 1936 or something in there. It played the Center Theatre. Q. So we started with the bidding. I'm.familiar with the process, but I though you could illustrate it for me, anything unusual that you recall that happened? 122 A. Let me tell you from the start. When you went over to bid on a show, I don't care if it was Jo Mielziner or Donald Oenslager, all you got was a half-inch scale elevation of it, and the ground plan. If there was alot of moldings and stuff, they gave you details of the molding. But you got a show, for instance, that had maybe a double turntable maybe, which you see a lot now, platforms coming in and platforms coming up and down. The designer didn't know what you were going to do. It was your conception of the thing. For instance, if she bid, he bid, and I bid, and I had a smarter way of doing it than you did, I could get the job and still give them what they wanted. In other words, a designer could come to us and say they want it to be done like this. All they wanted to know was was it going to come out like this? Was it going to fly out like that. When you were figuring on a show, you were thinking of how am I going to do this. And he was thinking how am.I going to do this. And if I had a smarter idea than you, my bid would be cheaper. There was a lot of horsing around with the bids too. Q. I've heard about rigging of bids. Where they know they're going to give it to one guy, but they go out to bid anyway, as a formality. A. I talked about it. The designer called me, and if I knew he was going to give it to me I'd tell him it was OK. Q. I don't blame you. A. Then I'd also tell him that I'm going to also tell the producer. But it didn't make much difference. But the thing that galled me was, they'd want you to do it, right? And they'd get me to bid against you and then they'd make you meet my price. In other words, the designer is supposed to be a friend of yours, or the producer, but he wasn't doing you a damn bit of a favour. He'd get you to meet my price which was low, right? What the hell good was that? Q. Some producers try to get one shop to do one part of the show and another to do another so they could get it cheaper that way. And Feller said he had that experience too. "One from column A, and one from column B." Now they're asking peOple to itemize. Instead of one bid, they want an itemization for a multi-scene show? A. That's the way they do in musicals. But they had a reason for it, too, Specially in musicals. They would give the thing to bid on, and you would bid on the whole kit and caboodle. Then they would take the lowest bid, and then they would cut the show. So they'd say to you, "How much if you don't do 'A'." So you bid $500 for "A"; you'd say $400. You could make money on the cuts. Then they got smart, and they made you put the price in letter by letter, scene by scene. Then if they want to cut it, which they always did, then you'd cut out "A" or cut out"Bl'So, in that respect, they had a point. 123 Q. Alot of people can't work that way because they know they can do one thing cheaper than anybody else, but another thing is going to cost them.more? A. Oh yeah, that's right. They would call me up and say you're going to do such and such a scene. I'd say no, I'm not. You can give that to somebody else. I'll take such and such, and so and so. But what the Theatre Guild used to do---They had a five scene show or a four scene show, and they'd have five or four bidders, and you'd bid each scene separately, and then they'd give him that scene and so on. They'd get the cheapest. Q. They don't do that anymore though? A. Well, we got together and wouldn't do it. We'd just refuse to bid on a show. Q. -These guys had no heart---The more I find out about it--- A. You know one thing about MacDonald, regardless of what you hear from anybody. It was strictly quality. Years ago, shows were built with the idea that when they closed in New York, they were going to go on the road. So there was much more touring than there is nowdays. If you want a show with a lot of different elevations, you had to build the under- structure so it folded up and the top came off so that you could troop them. Now they nail them up in big lumps and they ship by truck. We used to ship by train. Q. It costs more now because the designers want to redesign? They don't want to just cut the package and ship it out. A. The way we had to build them in the early days was so they could take them just as they were. There was no such thing as re-doing anything. Q. When they tour a show nowadays, they have a bus and truck tour and a plane tour. Do they have two different sets of scenery? A. well, in that case, that's different. Q. I want you to take your time and explain the process? A. Well, if you got the show, you did the bidding and got the show, yOu write up a contract, get your first payment. But we had certain customers that we didn' t have to do that with. 124 Q. Was there a certain amount that you had to get? A. well we always insisted on a third, and a third, and a third. A third to start, a third halfway, and a third before they took delivery. Unless it was one of our regular customers, they had to give it all before they took delivery. And as soon as we got the job, sometimes, we'd even call up from the street and say, "We got the job. Start doing so and so and so many platforms and start doing so many steps and so on, right away." And at our shOp we used to take the prints that we got from the designer and make working drawings and give the men working drawings. Nobody else did that; they handed you the print and said, "Build this door." Q. So you pioneered in that? They do it now? A. We were the first shop to start an iron ship in connection with the scenery. We were the first shop to put in a lathe, the first shop to put in a shaper. As soon as the designers found that out, they started designing special molding. And as everybody else, if you had turnings, you had to send them out to somebody. Even when I first came in, they used to send out the cornices. Jigsaw work they used to send out. And we pioneered bringing that all into the business. We did it all ourselves. We even had a machinery shop, our own bandsaws, our own circular saws. We didn't have to send a darn thing out. Q. Let's talk about the shop you started with. A. Yeah, well, we had---It was on 30th Street between 10th and 11th Ave.,four floors, and we had a basement where we stored stuff. Then, on the first floor, we did all the flat scenery. There isn't as much flat scenery done today. But, on the first floor, we did nothing but flat scenery. You had to make it in those days so it would fit in a car. A car door in those days was a little bit over Six feet or 5'9". So we had to lay it out and build the flat scenery downstairs. Then there was in the middle floor. We did all the built stuff. And there was a lot of built stuff. We built a mantle for Mielziner one time that was 17' high. A mantle and over the mantle a big picture frame and then an entablature on top of that. And it was for a show callfiiYour Obedient Husband. Frederick March and his wife was in it. This must a been twenty-five years ago, I guess. Q. Was this all in wood by the way? A. All out of wood, yeah. We had guys that could carve. Certain things we bought. I don't know if you've ever seen it, but there was a company that made metal mouldings and certain things like that we would buy, but mostly, we had guys that could carve and we did everything in pine, of course, and it was soft. So the built work was on the middle 125 floor, and, then, on the top floor, we had areas where we could lay out 45' x 30' drops. And batten them and cut them. If they happened to be foliage, cut them, and then we had to turn them over and put netting on them. Did you know that? And we had a sewing room upstairs. Another thing that we pioneered in, nobody ever set any scenes up cause nobody had any height. We cut a big hole in our roof on the top floor, and we built high enough so we could put scenes together up there and set them up. We built the hole like a penthouse with a roof on it. We did it ourselves. And we had a regular rigging up there. Not as elaborate as they did in the theatre, and, then, we used to fit things up in there. we only did it for our own benefit. That's how concerned we were to get the stuff in the theatre so that it was finished when it got into the theatre. We pioneered it. Then everybody else got hep to it, and then designers got help to it, and they would come down to your place and look at it and then you're in trouble. We only did it for our own benefit, actually. Q. I wanted to ask you what designers you worked with? A. I worked with'Mielziner, Norman Bel Geddes, Donald Oenslager. Q. Can you name a show or a particular year that you worked with them? A. Well, Mielziner, we did alot of shows with him. He did stuff for Sam.Harris. We did The Postman Always Rings Twice for him. Mielziner did Ethan Frome. And we did a musical called Jubalee for him, for Sam Harris. Q. What about Bel Geddes? What did he do? A. The first Show we ever did for him was Dead End. At the Belasco Theatre. Q. They filled the orchestra pit with water. A. That was an effect. That was an effect that shimmered up on the top.. There was no water there. Bel Geddes would have liked to have done that,--he was insane--but it was too impossible. They had a color wheel, and a light, and the water shimmered like the reflection of water on the dock, that's all. A. He won a Tony for one show, he did. (MacDonald's wife speaking). Q. What was the name of the show? A. If the Shoe Fits. 126 Q. 1946, '47? A. It must have been after '47. It was a modern version of Cinderella. And did you ever see those kids' pOp-up books, like the stove and chairs would come out of the wall? What it was was two books set together like this, right? And the pages opened, and as the pages Opened, a scene. Q. Pops out of it? A. Yes, stoves, chairs pOpped out of the wall. Now when that scene was over, it had to be like you were turning a page, so that went around, and turned and went offstage. And as that went off, the next page came down. Know what I mean? Q. Yes. I don't know how you could do it. A. They had an engineer design this thing to Operate it, and nobody would take the job. Even Nolan Brothers, Willie Nolan, who was one of my competitors, and he called up the producer who was Leonard Sillman. He said, "Don't do the show. YOu're crazy because nobody's going to make it work." So I told Sillman I'd do the job if he'd let me do it my way. It was a couple of steps up to an elevation that was about two feet, and we had all the machinery under this elevation. And he had cables coming in, and all. And we did it very simply. We did it very very simply. And I said, "What I want to do, I'll do it so it's all up above the stage. So if anything ever happens that the thing don't operate, you can have somebody come and run it by hand." Well the way this engineer had it--I don't know what he paid him-~18 that if anything ever broke down, the show was over. We even designed the hooks and we put eyes on these pages so in case it ever did happen, they could reach down with these hooks and pull the pages down. And they had to go round. They had to come like this. The book was like that, see? A page Opened up and a scene appeared, right? Some things out of this wall, some things out of this wall. And the same way, it was two books. Then this page would come out, and as that one came out, the other one would have to go around. So it ended up, when we got to the end, we had the big ballroom scene finale and that was a permanent set. That was there. When this final page opened up, it revealed the ballroom. But we had it so--and it was done just by a guy standing there doing this, just winding it up. And I don't know if I can make you understand this. We built a wall and we had a sprocket chain on the tOp and a Sprocket chain on the bottom, and it went all through a gear backstage, down through a shaft where you wound it up, made the thing turn, just like a bicycle. Then each page we took and we made a hook that hooked on to the Sprocket. It was like a bicycle chain lying down, except the chain was this big. 127 Q. Did you have to make the links? A. This was when stuff was hard to get. No, we bought the links, but we had to really dig around to get it. And it worked like a charm. Q. Was this all your idea? A. Yeah, sure. That's what I got the Tony for. Q. Were you the only bidder on this one? A. The other guys wouldn't bid on it. Q. So you got to call your own shots. Charge them what-- A. Well, it was the same old story. Sillman tried to hang us up in the end. He said, "I can't give you the last payment. You'll have to take notes on the box office." Which is a normal thing for them to ask you. But I said, "No good? He said, "Well, supposing it doesn't work?" I said, "We did. We worked it in the shop." We Operated the whole thing in the shop for him. I said, "That's what my contracts said." I couldn't be responsible for the trouping and whatever. He finally got the money up. But you know, he got a patent out on the thing. He wanted me to go in with him on it. He wanted me to make a model of it so he could sell it. I said, "OK, but it'll cost you around $2400 to $3000." He wouldn't Spend the money. But he used it on TV a couple of times. He used it quite a few times. Q. What's his name? A. Sillman. Leonard Sillman. He did--what are these shows he does?--Oh God-~He discovered Imogene Coca. Q. I think you're one of the fortunate ones, that you retired. Some of theseguys, like Jo Mielziner. He's what? 74? A. Yeah. He's crazy. He's still working. Q. And he told me he's working for minimum. And he said the scene painters, the old ones over at Fellers, make more money than he makes. With the overtime. A. Even without their overtime. Some scandal. Q. What is the scale? I don't even know. A. I don't know either. Its probably $11,000 or $12,000 now, some- thing like that, and double time for overtime. They don't work for time and a half. 128 O. This is some of the stuff I wanted to find out from Bobby MacDonald, but he told me to talk to the president. A. No, he could get you to see Willie Arne because he's got the guys working for him right now. Q. Its a matter of public record? A. I really don't know. When I was out at the Fair which was what '64 and '65, the scale then for the scenic artists was just short of nine dollars, and the chargeman got double which was $18. And the overtime. There was nothing but overtime. We worked six hours and then from there on it was overtime. We used to work six hours and then six hours overtime. So the chargeman got $108 just for those last six hours. Its a shame, too, because, some of them, they're not all artists. Some of them are just lousy brush hands. They prime and that. The reason the scale is so high, their work used to be so seasonal that they only would get maybe thirty weeks out of a year. But that isn't so any more. They're working all the time, but they're still getting this kind of money. Q. I'd like to go back to the operation. Can you give me a rundown of the way you operated the place? In terms of what kind of machinery? Did you have foremen? Did you have it broken into departments? A. Yes, we had nobody on the bottom floor, but that was just for storage. We had a foreman on the first floor which did all the flat scenery, and we had a foreman on the second floor who was in charge of the built work. And we had laborers working. They called them laborers. Actually they were guys that covered scenery and cut the drops. And you had what they called the boss laborer. He would be in charge of your laborers, and when you had scenery to cover, he would be there.‘ When we had drops to be cut up on the fourth floor, he would be there. They called them laborers. They weren't carpenters; they covered the scenery. In other words, they did all the gluing down of the canvass, all the cutting of the drOps. But they didn't use any of the machinery as far as the saws, the mortise and tenons, and things like that. In fact, their scale of pay was lower than the carpenters. Q. You mention mortise and tenon joints. Some places don't want to do that anymore. A. They don't want to do it anymore. And that's because of the unions. They won't do it because it takes so much time. See there again, the idea was to make the scenery durable when you travel. You might play New York for a year and a half, then close and go on the road and play three weeks in Chicago, two in Detroit. So that scenery kept bouncing in and out so it was made to last. And that was the reason for the mortise and tenons. You know what they do nowadays, I 129 don't understand it. On a piece of scenery there's what they call a corner block. It's a piece of plywood with nails. They glue them on. Now the whole idea with scenery is, if anything happens, you have to be able to fix it. You can't get at that corner. They're glued on. And there's no reason for it. We always nailed it and clinched the nails. Q. About how'many peOple did you have working altogether? A. In.peak times, we would have seventy-five carpenters, maybe. And this was before we had the paint studio. We had to get a paint studio to compete with these people, so we took a building right down the street which was 150 feet by 100 feet. Q. I though that was on the third floor? A. In other words, before a drOp is painted it has to be sewed, and they put a webbing on it with gromets. Q. This was done on the third floor? But you didn't paint on that floor? A. We had another building down the street. Q. When did you start the paint studio? A. 1940, 1942. No, it was after I took control, so it had to be '47 or '48. Q. What were the months that you found the leanest? A. It always got slow right at the end of the year, before Christmas. There was always a layoff around Christmas time. And it would be the middle of January, the start of February, when it started to pick up. Q. What was the reason for this lull? A. Don't ask me. And then in the summertime there was a little lull because nobody went to the theatre. But then in April, May you would go like hell because the season started in September. Q. Could you give a ballpark figure on the price of shows and how it increased or decreased? One set versus musicals? A. We did Life With Father. It was a one set show. Twelve hundred and fifty dollars for the set. And it was an interior, with double sliding door, morterings, cornice--designed by Stewart Chaney. That must have been '33, somewhere around there. And then we built a one set show called Town House for Max Gordon which cost $35,000. And this was around twenty-five years later. But I would say, I 130 found out that we did a musical for Ziegfeld called Rio Rita, and the scenery cost $44,000. This was before 1930, 1927. Now if we had to build that show today, in the first place they wouldn't go for the money. But, if you had to build that show today, the scenery would cost $175,000 to $200,000. That's how different it was. Q. When you were operating in the late '50's, early '60'8, what was the range? A. A one set show was build for $25,000 for building it, painting it, pretty elaborate. A musical would run $65,000, $70,000. Mest shows now are stylized due to economics. A bedroom set is just an indication. It might be a bed pad and a foot board, something like that. Whereas, when I started, it was a bedroom. There were walls. Q. What were some of the biggest problems you encountered building sets? Getting materials or getting help? A. Well, different periods, getting help became a problem after TV started. And I didn't blame the men because they had a fifty-two week a year job, and security, and paid vacations which we couldn't give them. There was one time there the help got so bad, that we went to the union in a body and petitioned the union to take in some men. Q. There were so few men? A. Yes, almost all the young men I had went in the service. The war was on. I lost my men to the Army. Q. Was this Korea or the Second World War? A. The Second World War. And the union finally agreed to get some men in, and they set up a committee, and they called for applicants, anybody. It didn't make any difference. You didn't have to be an apprentice or anything. Well, they took in about forty-five men. And there were four shops. We got ten of those guys and we needed them for built work and the flat scenery. I put them upstairs, and it was a joy working with those fellows. They were indentured for five years. As soon as the five years were up, they went into television. 80 now, we're back where we started again. And one of the bad things is the men can work in the theatre and the shop. It's the same union. They worked days in the shop and nights in the theatres. And you had to be nice to them. They were so independent, they'd tell you to go to Hell. They had to work in the theatre, and if it came to a pinch, they could live on their theatre money. That had matinees on Wednesday, and they walked out, of the shop, and they went to their matinee. 131 Q. So how did they solve this problem, finally? A. They solved it by taking in anybody. Like, for instance, you work in the Music Hall. If you work in the Music Hall, you're a non- union man. And after they work in the Music Hall so long, they have to be taken into the union. They don't take the guys in for the shops, they take them in for the theatres. The shops have to struggle. I don't know about Pete, I'm sure he must be struggling, Pete Feller, but I know Willie Hart, [Mrs. MacDonald's Brother] has a difficult time. Q. His biggest problem is collecting money from the producers. A. They all do it on credit. And I wouldn't do that. A producer like Billy Rose, he had to pay right on the line, or else he didn't get his scenery. Otherwise, he didn't give you the money. He'd find some reason that the scenery didn't work, and he wouldn't pay you. But there's more money involved now. We did alot more work then than now. Q. You say alot more work,didy0ud0most1y things for Broadway? A. Yes. Q. Did you supplement with anything else? Expositions? A. Occasionally. Then when TV came along, I didn't do all the TV. I couldn't because I didn't want to loose my customers. Q. Broadway. Does that include ballets, opera, anything? A. Anything. The opera house has a special arrangement with the union that they do it themselves. Like the MetrOpolitan. Nobody can do that. Q. Are there union members in there, though? 'A. Oh yes, but they have a special arrangement with the union. They never have to borrow any extra man. They have a set amount of men. And no matter how big or how little the work, these fellows have to do it. The Metropolitan has some crazy designers. They're not very efficient, costs too high. Q. Did you ever work with Howard Bay? A. I always liked Howard Bay, he was kind of a controversial guy. If you told him you had to make a change in scenery, he would say, "Go ahead." If you went to Mielziner and said you'd like to make a change, he'd fight you every step of the way. I think the reason was Bay was too lazy. Mielziner always had an assistant, and he would tell him, this is the way it has to be, and there was no compromise. But then 132 what he would do,---I remember we were doing a show called Dark of the MOon and it had this big rock scene, a mountain, and peOple came up all over the mountain, and we had to form that and cover it. We made it out of a wood frame, wood armature, and we covered it with wire mesh, and we cut up all the old drops around, and dipped them in glue and pasted them on, and then we put a texture on. And George Jenkins was Mielziner's assistant, and be brought us down a little piece of stone he picked up from the railroad yard for a sample for the texture of this. And we just couldn't get it to suit him. So finally I said, "George, you better get Jo down here. This is going to go on for ever and ever." So this gives Mielziner a chance to play big guy, and say, "It's OK." Here's Jenkins, having been so insistent, he must have felt about that big. Q. Ethan Frome? A. Who was in that? Ruth Gordon, and there was one scene there called the church sociable, and it had the wall of a church. It didn't sit straight at the audience; it sat on an angle like that. And this was the entrance of the church. Q. The corner? A. Yes. And a step up to the doors of the church, and then in front of that was all snow, and trees. And we had to make the show. But this whole thing had to fly up in the air when the scene was over. The whole thing, the show, the trees, the church. The set went back about fifteen feet, probably thirty-six feet in width. You know how much it weighed? 6700 pounds. And we had to run cables down through the trees so that peOple wouldn't see them. And in the back of the church you could put cables because nobody could see them. And when it flew up, it had lights underneath for the next scene which was included in the platform. And a border had to drop down to hide the lights. And this is one of the things we did for Mielziner. Q. A real magic act! Do you remember how much that cost, that one? A. Yes, that was Ethan Frome. That today would cost $25,000, more than that. It would cost $35,000 by the time you got it painted. I think we did it for about $16,000. But see, this was for Max Gordon, and nobody else could do hisstuff but us. We used to tell him, "Don't let the designer run crazy." Because once they knew the show was on a cost plus, they went crazy. They put everything they could think of in it because they weren't confined. It was a bad thing. And in those days to keep things quite, nowadays everything sounds like it was on a railroad train, but our whole thing was to keep everything quite, like we'd do stuff for Lunt and Fontanne. If you made noise backstage, 133 murder. But nowadays, I worked a Show, Sweet Charit , and they had stuff in that show that we wouldn't dare do, they had hooks that the audience saw that were functional, that had nothing to do with the set, right out in front of you. Big hinges that the people could see. I guess maybe TV has some affect on it. Q. (Question lost on change of tape). A. In a freight car the doors open on the side. In a baggage car, the door is on the end. It's a regular train, except there's no seats, and it's much longer than a regular train that we sit in. And the scenery had to be loaded in the end door. And the reason they had baggage cars was that drops were forty-five feet long. And you could never get a drop in the side door. You had to take them in through the end door of the train. Q. So you had to load them, one at a time then? They had to be lined up in such a way so that you could separate the cars, and then connect them together after you loaded them? A. And the yardmaster used to do that for you. Q. So one Show, you'd load six of these cars, and they were over forty-five feet long? A. Yes. We used to have shows with sixty drOps in them. Musical shows with sixty. _ Q. What kind of a show was this? A. Follies, any musical show. We did a show called Red Hot and Blue, and Oenslager designed it. It was all hanging pieces. There was nothing else in the Show. We had fifty-nine hanging pieces. Q. I wanted to ask you about the location. Did you find that tax or rent or costs were going so high? A. No, we owned the building. We had tax problems, real estate tax. Q. Was it a culmination of different reasons, or because you felt you had done enough that you wanted to retire, or mostly because the men weren't sticking around helping out? A. Yes, it got to be a struggle. You had to fight to get the men. You had to fight to keep the men. Q. And you needed more men than you had? A. Yes. 134 Q. What happened? What let up to it? Was it an abrupt thing or could you see it on the horizon and plan for it? A. I think the whole reason for it as far as I was concerned was TV. Getting their own facilities. They took all the help, all the painters and all the carpenters. Q. Some designers say that nowadays the young men don't measure up to the old timers. Most of the old timers came from the other side, the great scene painters? A. That's true. And there was another problem. We had Russian and German, and you had to be father confessor because nothing was too mean for them to do to each other. And there were very few really good American painters, YOu can't take a guy who is a seascape painter, landscape painter, and put him in to paint scenery. He's lost. It's not a matter of ability; it's a different technique altogether. If a scenery painter painted that ship, it would be almost the Size of a ship. I think that most scenic painters were trained differently. Q. Do they start out doing that? A. Well, it's a family thing, came down from one to the other. And in Italy and England, I don't know whether they do it now, but they did when I was there, they didn't do it like they did it, they would take what we would get four weeks to paint doing everything else, they could take six months. Like in Russia, it's all under- written by the government. They do it all onstage. If they don't like it, they do it over again. But they seem to be more artistic. Q. That time element. That amazed me, the amount of shows that you put out in a month. What's the least amount of time you ever had to do a show? A. I did a show for the Air Force in seventeen days. The biggest show you've ever seen in your life. It was during the Second World War. And they had a civilian manager, Harry Horner designed it. He was Australian, a real artistic fellow. You know how I did it? Nolan did stuff for me, and there was a shOp up the street. He did stuff for me. Another shop did stuff for me. And we only had seventeen days to get that whole show out. You never saw anything like it for size. It had barracks in it; it had the whole front of an airplane. Q. Did you ever find working on a show that if you had too many, you might wind up having to pay overtime and loose money on it? A. I tell you what I used to do. If I could see far enough ahead and got a show, I'd start knocking the Hell out of it in the beginning, and put the overtime in in the beginning. Get alot of it done as soon as I could, then maybe I could coast the rest 0f the way- 135 If you let it go to the end, the guys are dead. Two, three o'clock in the morning, everybody's making errors. That's the way I used to do it. But they don't do it now because they figure that maybe they'll get it done, and it never turns out that way. And another thing, when things are going really good, you always have other work. So you just couldn't stick with one show. Say, "I'll do this and then I'll work overtime." You had to get it out of the way. But I always tried to do the difficult stuff first. Do that first, and then coast in with the stuff, so when it got near the end, you had the easy stuff to do. There were always shows that had problems and difficulties, and I tried to get them out of the way first. We did a show called Lady in the Dark that had a double turntable, and we had another turntable inside of that. So, one went one way, and the other went the other way, and they did all kinds of tricks. And there was a basic set with a series of "S" shaped screens across it. And that's how they did all the fadeouts and things. One of the "S" shaped screens was on one table, and one of the performers was out there performing, and then we would just turn the one table and one set of screens would stay still, but the other set would come around and she'd disappear behind them. That was a tough show. And right away, I got on the turntables and the screens. Q. Did you find that there were many modifications or changes? A. That's one bad thing about this area where we put up the scenery. Up to that point, the designer never saw it until we got it through. And the directors, too, make changes. Sometimes it was impossible. You didn't have time and you had to tell them. I did a show, The Miracle Worker, George Jenkins designed it. The director was Arthur Penn, and he was sick in the hOSpital and we only had three weeks to do the whole thing. And Penn made radical changes in it. In that case, I got ahold of Joe Harris, who was the manager, and told him Arthur Penn wants this and that, and it's going to cost you such and such money, and he didn't believe. We were so far ahead with the thing. And the whole thing moved from one side to the other. One side was a railroad station, and the other side was a combination dining room and living room. And it had to be on wheels to roll. And he came along and said it was too high with the wheels on, and he wanted to cut it all down. We had it all finished. This was about 1960. And we had to put smaller wheels on it. We did a show at the Music Box called Annie Oakley designed by Jo Mielziner where we saw the gridiron start to separate from the walls of the stage, and they closed the show midweek. Q. we were talking about how you wound up your business. Can you talk about those later years? A. The main thing with me was I was getting fed up trying to operate. 136 Q This was in '62. A. Yes. Times weren't too good either. Q Why did you close? A. One reason I closed was we weren't doing the business. There were four or five shops and there wasn't enough work to go around. Q. There was one reason, the unrecorded reason. [Tape shut off]. And the other reason, was the cost of materials, the cost of space. I know help was a big reason. Did you find that bidding was getting more cutthroat? A. Oh yes. Q. It wasn't a gentlemanly thing anymore? A. Oh no. Q. The element of art was not as important as it used to be? A. No. But then things got so bad as far as kickbacks. I don't know if anybody will tell you this or not. When they designed a show, there were four bidders, right? And they want you. And they gave you a different idea than they gave us. They'd give everybody the same set of prints, and they'd tell you this was built,.this was painted, but the guy that was supposed to get the job, they would say, "Well you don't have to do that." And that would automatically raise the other guy's bid. A show is almost always too expensive. When you put your bid in, there have to be cuts made, so-when the cuts came, the designer would out less from you that he would from the guy he wanted. I got so that I hated to go because I know it was such a crooked thing. You could call it politics, yes. Q. How did the situation get to that point? If you didn't play ball with them you couldn't get work? But this wasn't true in all cases, right? There must have been some peeple around who still operated above board. A. Yes, but mostly the problem was the manager. Q. But in other words, the producer had no knowledge of what was going on? A. Lots of times he didn't,sometimes he did. Q. I don't understand the rundown from producer to general manager, the hierarchy escapes me sometimes. We keep talking about 137 producer, but he's putting up the money. But there must be some producers who have more to do with this thing than the general managers, for instance. Some of these bidding sessions you would go to sometimes you would see the producer, correct or incorrect? A. No, very rarely would you see the producer. The designer and sometimes the manager. And after you got the drawings and you made up your bid, then you would start to deal with the manager. Very rarely would you deal with the producer. Q. The bidding session, they'd invite you to somebody's house or office? I A. We'd go to the designer's studio, and you'd write up your bid, and send it in. Q. How much time would they give you? A. Well, they always wanted it the next day. You'd be there 'til five o'clock at night, and they'd want the bids the next morning. And that's when I sat up 'til three o'clock in the morning. Q. You had no help? A. I did it. Any of the extra stuff I did myself. I had Mary's brother who has the shop; he was my assistant. I gave him alot of this stuff in the normal course of the day. But lots of times, take a guy like George Jenkins, he used to be a nut on getting special materials, special kinds of cloths for draperies. So how could you go home, and have a bid the next morning? You wouldn't know the price of the stuff. This would be stuff you never saw before, so you had to take a chance that you could keep it within a certain price. 75 percent of it was stabs in the dark. I could never understand why a producer could let a manager run that thing, a manager who had no more idea of what the show was physically than the guy on the street. They had no idea what they were getting. The chance that the producer took with the other guy. And it came down to people like me and Pete working the thing out for them somehow, some way. But there was no cut and dried thing, ever. Mest of the time the manager was gambling with--unless the producer knew he had a hit and invested his own money--gamb1ing with investors' money. How they could take such chances with other peOple's money. But somehow they got on, some way. And that's another thing. They'll let anybody bid on a show. You can be from so-and-so construction company and say, "Can I bid on the show?” And they'll say, "Yes." You might not know anything about it. It's done in such a slipshod manner. 138 Q. Could you predict an alternate way of doing it? For instance, do you think we should have funding from the State to allow more time? A. I don't know where the funding would come, but you should have more time. When they're getting a company together, they get a manager and a director. And I say they should get the designer right away. What they do? They wait; there's five weeks left. That's when they hire the designer. And he's working under the gun. It's supposed to be saving them money, but they should be put in. He should be part of the original group that starts the show. Q. Has anyone ever tried to explain why they bring the designer in so late and you guys get the bid so late, and then you have two or three days to assemble it? It gets trucked over, and put together onstage, and they start as soon as it's out together, right? They don't have that many rehearsals on it. A. Yes. Listen, if the show's going to try out in Boston, it'll never see a stage until it gets to Boston. And they haul in on Saturday. They open the following Saturday, so they have a week to get that show on and rehearse the people and everything else. But the first thing they have to do is get the scenery and lights up. Q. How much time do you have to set up? A. If you haul in on a Saturday, they want to have a rehearsal on it Tuesday afternoon. And you're not sure yourself when you get in that theatre yourself, whether everything you though is going to come out that way. It's such a gamble. The way it used to be, if you took a show out on tryout, they Opened on Thursday, not Saturday. Now they've gotten two more days, Friday and Saturday. But then the show closed. The way it was years ago, the show closed Saturday night in Boston, and you're going to Philadelphia, you opened Monday night. Q. What about union contracts? When you're working on Sundays, did the men get overtime, time and a half or double time? A. Oh yes. Q. What does golden overtime mean? I've heard that expression. A. The only thing I know about is the transfer. If they don't get back to the barn by five o'clock, they get another two day's day. Q. These are the men that haul the scenery? Excuse me, what was the name of the show you built and toured after the close. A. Night Life was the name. 139 Q. You built it in your shop, and then you closed the shop and went out with it? A. Yes. Sidney Kingsley wrote it and directed it, and I stayed with the show in Philadelphia and brought it into New York. And then we opened in a theatre on 47th Street. The show didn't run. It ran about six weeks in 1962. Q. Was this a decision that you made, or was it something that came along? A. No, Mr. Kingsley asked me to take it out. It was a tricky thing, and he knew I was going to close up the shop. Q. He knew that this was your last show? A. Yes. And he asked me if I'd stay with it. Q. Can you tell me whether you forecasted the closing or your shop, or was it something you didn't forecast? A. No, I was thinking about it for a year and a half, two years. But then downtown in New York they had some loft fires, warehouses burned, and the city got very hot on the sprinkler system. We had no sprinkler system. We had one in the paint studio but not in the shOp, and the Fire Department came around and said we'd have to have a sprinkler system. So I had an engineer come in and analyze it, and we made up drawings and sent them to the Building Department and they OK'd the drawings, and it would have cost me $125,000. And that was it. And I said, "That's it.” If I had moved, you wouldn't believe what it would have cost to move, and then I would have had to rent, and in those days they were asking about $1.50 per square foot, and I know it's more than that. You could pay rent; you could pay $35,000 a year in rent just like that. And I was so discouraged at the way things changed. Q. So there were several things, not just one thing that made up your mind? So what happened to that facility? A. The building is torn down, and there's a drop there for trucks. But the competition was so--it was keen. But it was not on the level. I just couldn't see it. Q. Did all of the people you employed disperse to other studios? A. They had no problem. There were so many guys, I had Bobby MacDonald who you talked to. He was a shop man, he wouldn't come near the shop. (He is now a union official). Then I had Danny Walters who was married to Bobby's sister. He won't come near the shop; he works in the theatre. 140 Q. Then your entire family is all involved in theatre. Your brothers, your father? A. Yes. My father used to drive a stagecoach from.A1bany to New York. The actor he worked for was one of the guys who used to drive, and he finally got a job in the theatre through this actor. And then he got so that he was the carpenter in the theatre. And working around in the theatre, my father and another fellow named Clause Hagan decided that why can't we get some of this work, and so they Opened up a place, and they had alot of work. This was before I was born. And from that beginning, four shops started. For instance, the fellow who used to be my father's foreman, he Opened up a shOp. His name was George Vail, and then there was a fellow named O'Rourke, and he branched out and Opened up a shOp. And that's how it Spread around. Q. Tell me how everybody else got into it. A. It's a matter of course. I went to work. My older brother Howie, who died, he was in the First World War and when he came out, he went to work in the shop. Then I had another brother Eddie. As soon a 3 he got old enough, he started to work in the shop. Soon as I got old enough, I worked in the shop. I only worked in the shop. They worked in the theatres. Both of them were road men. They loved to take out shows. But I stayed in the shop. I never worked in the theatre. My half brother owned the shop then. He was much older. You see my father was married twice. And all the boys now are in it. Q. You mean sons of your brothers? A. Yes. My son's not in it. [Break in tape].. This is what we call a rear-fold traveller. You've seen curtains. The reason we did it, Ziegfeld had a curtain with a Currier and Ives painting on it. And he wanted to picture to go off flat, instead of the thing bunching. It had to bunch offstage. Q. What do you call that? A. A rear-fold traveller. We designed it and got a patent on it. Now, of course, the patent ran out; everybody has it. We did things, like when a show had a turntable in it. Q. I was going to ask you about the outside turntable, inside turn- table. How did you get the outside one to turn? A. We had a gear rack around it, and then we had a double gear into that, and a shaft that went off to a machine that wound it up. A pinion gear. And on the inside one, we had a guy inside of it, inside one of these screens that I was telling you about, see, that was done with cable. And he was in the screen all night with a hand 141 winch. A man was less expensive than the machine. Years ago, if you had a turntable in a show, when that show went on the road, you had to have an advance man to set it up. In other words, you had to bring two turntables. So when they moved from New York to Philadelphia, when they got there, the turntable was all in because it took so long. And we devised a way to put a whole turntable together in an hour, which was another thing we did that was c0pied. We tried to get a patent, but the patent lawyer said it couldn't be done. The table was round, and we took a four foot square section and we made a frame out of angle irons with the angles running out. And then we made pie- shaped sections with each one with a groove in it. And it would take sixteen sections to make the whole circwmference. And we slipped this pie-shaped section into this angle iron frame, and you just had to put one bolt in. We left this angle iron frame open, and, when it was all done, we put a top in there. You just put one bolt in the flange of the angle iron, and you just kept slipping them in all the way around. Q. So these pie-shaped sections like slices didn't have tops on them? A. Yes, they had tops on them; they were all set. And what we did, they had a wood rib, we kept the outside rib in. You' d slide one section, slide another section, put one bolt in the outside edge. If you had sixteen, pie-shaped sections you'd put sixteen bolts and that's all. And angle iron frame, we had four angles and then we had a U-beam across that on which there was a pin. Then on the stage we had a plate with a bearing in it. And the first thing you did was bring out your 4 x 4 angle frame. The first thing you did was set your bearing on it, drOp that in, and the pin goes in, and then start to put your sections in. We did away with all that extra work. Q. What do you find yourself doing most of all in the shop? A. Myself? I loved to draft. I loved to make the drawings, figure things out. Like shows that we got that were tricky, like tables come in at different angles. I used to make models of that for myself, and work them, and draw them up. As far as the finances, that used to kill me. I hated it. And her brother is the same way. He's got a shop, and he's just like me. I wanted the money, of course, but I wanted somebody else to collect. Q. You were the idea man? You were the force being the thing? A. Yes. When I first went to work for a guy, there was a little Englishman named Jack Howes who was the SUperintendent, I guess you'd call it. He made all the drawings. He figured out all the differnt things that had to be figured out. When I went to work in the shop as a carpenter for two or three years. And this Jack Howes told my 142. half brother that he needed an assistant. 80 my half brother put me in with Jack Howes. I learned alot of things from him. My brother, T.B. MacDonald, was well known, by everybody. Bernie MacDonald they called hhm. He did all the Follies. He was a very flamboyant guy, very outgoing. My half brother. Q. No one has any projections for the future. Can you see anything on the horizon? What is going to happen to all this? The technical theatre. A. I don't think it's all that bad. You take all these outlying theatres, there's alot of them around, and I don't think it's dead by any means. / Q. I don't either. But we started talking about the fact that there's not enough time, and they're trying to cut corners and they're cutting scenery, and some designers argue that producers are doing it with an axe instead of artistically. A. That's true. I think it's going to stumble the way it always did. We had one time, when this thing came up about Studio Alliance starting a paint studio to save the producer the trucking. As I told you, we built it and then they had to truck it to a paint studio that had nothing to do with us. And so they started their own paint studio and sold the producers the idea they were going to save them the trucking. We analyzed one year back, and we came out with a figure that it was less than 1 percent of the cost of.a play. For instance, you did a production that was $60,000, and the trucking only cost $600. We had a reputation for building; we were tops. We got shows without bids; we had plenty of customers, Dillingham, Ziegfeld, Erlanger, Max Gordon, Guthrie McClintrock, Katherine Cornell, Gilbert Miller. We did their work without any question. But my argument was that I could make more money just building the stuff. Because if I built and painted, and I put a bid into you for $10,000 to build a production, well alright, that's $10,000. Now I put a bid in for $20,000 which included the painting, see? And the producer says, "Gee, $20,000." Where if I put a bid in for $10,000, it wasn't such a shock to them, and then the other bid would come later, the painting. But it's backfired so bad; the designers come down and they kill you. This guy, I won't mention his name, but he does alot of Broadway productions, musicals, and if he don't like it, if somebody got the show over his head, man he would be down to that studio, I mean anybody's studio and he'd kill you, by demanding your time and slowing you down with consultations on wantingto see a finished drop, and so forth. 143 Q. Did you feel you had some particular talent Undo this or did you come to some turning point? Was it a matter of making a living or loving the work? A. First it was making a living, but then I got so that I loved doing a show. I figure out a show, build a show, get it out, get it in the theatre, and get it over. Then after I got it out, I lost interest in it. But I say, I should have had someone in the money department. I gave some credit, and I did get stung too, some- times. Q. You lost money on a show? A. Maybe we lost money; maybe we didn't get the last payment. Q. What was more frequent? You didn't get paid, or you made a mistake in bidding? A. No, I never--that wasn't with me--I rarely made a mistake. Q. While we're on the subject, what was the normal markup you tried to make? A. 35 percent. Q. Were you happy with 10 percent? A. If it came down to a pinch, you were, yes. I'm not talking about --that includes profit and your cost of everthing else. The way we used to figure, we figured out the material, then we'd figure out the painting then we added 35 percent to that. That was supposed to take care of whatever we needed. Q. You mean labor? A. Oh no, we'd figure out material, and we added the labor to it. That was included in it. 35 percent would be your rent, for your light for your profit and all that. Q. How did you figure on it? How did you bid a show out? A. I don't know about the other guys. Q. Feller told me he adds up everything and then he adds 10 percenthave an unhappy designer, one that's constantly complaining or unhappy about where he's working, and so forth. So his feelings are given a lot of consideration as long as the price difference isn't too great. So yes, I would expect that this discussion is likely to happen. How about me going over my normal bidding? There's nothing normal. It could be the same day or the following day. It depends on how much time there is before loading out the show. That varies too, but mostly we have two weeks, three weeks, sometimes four weeks. Q. Is there some particular Broadway show you have in mind that you can recall when you contracted the show and then how you built it? I'd like to ask you what you do first or if you do everything at once? A. Well, we like to think that when we get a show we have a conference among partners to go on with the show and say, "Here are the problems" and discuss what is the best approach to achieving the problem. We don't always do this because of lack of time. Very often, while we are building a show, and all these partners and key people are involved in getting the last show out, I myself am busy getting and planning the new show, and there is really no time for these kind of conferences. But the times we do it, it's the most efficient and best way to do it. When we have a difference of opinion on how to approach a problem, we discuss it, which would be cheaper and so forth and decision are made on how to approach the entire show, parts of the show and so forth. And the plans are simply distributed, one to the shOp, one to the Scenic Artist, special material required. We order them, we do our purchasing thing of going and trying to get the best price, and very Often these are very special things that you design in your mind. You have to chase all over the world for these things. Q. Does the designer dictate to you what kind of material to use and so forth? A. Only sometimes, depending upon how important it is. The designer chose this piece of ceramic tile. @hows it to me], Q. Does this have to be duplicated? A. Well, I use this tile as an example of many things. What happens is a microcosim of the entire Operation of building scenery. The designer picked this tile out because he wants to see it on his fireplace. The ceramic tile obviously has a tendency of breaking, especially in a touring show. So the shop supervisor rightfully says, "That's going to break. 262 It's not a good thing to use on this show." This is before seeing the tile itself. So the tile is now out up into masonite squares, goes .up to the scenic artist to be painted. Well, the tile sample comes in, and I look at it. There's 150 of those tiles to make, and to paint. It's going to cost us about $600 to make 150 tiles. The tile only cost $1.00 apiece to buy, so I'll take my chances on it breaking and replacing it, and, therefore, the switch is made at that point. No, we will not paint it, we will buy it. So we are now going to buy this tile instead of painting it. Decisions like that are always necessary, in terms of whether to buy or make. All we're concerned about is achieving an illusion. Q. This ceramic tile, you wouldn't paint it by hand, would you? Wouldn't you silk screen it or something? A. NO, we would make stencils. There are five colors on this tile. The background aqua color would be laid in, a stencil for this color. And we would wind up after that with hand brushing, a totally useless waste of time because we would never, no matter how good the artists are, achieve the quality and dimension that this has achieved. Q. I understand. So in other words, it's all custom? There are no standard procedures you would go through for each show? A. No. Q. Is there one thing that you try to get out of the way first, right away? A. Well, what we try to do and look for is what is the most difficult painting in the show. We try to do those first to give the scenic artist as much time to do a different thing. That's the key. Because the scenic artist is so costly, we try to keep their overtime down. That would be the deciding factor in what we start first in the shop. That's one factor. The other factor is to keep the carpenters busy. We will start in, and certain people are good at building platforms. We're going to start building platforms, immediately, to keep people busy in the shop. It depends on the circumstances. If our iron shop is busy doing something else, then, that'll hold back the iron work on a new Show. Or if the iron workers are not busy, we immediately put that into the works and keep them busy although the people have nothing to do with the finished product. There is no set rules. It depencb totally on the circumstances in playing it by ear to make the right decison at the right time. 263 You have to do what's going to be set up first, clearing space in the proper area. And we have a number of departments. The drapery department would, immediately upon receiving the plans, start sewing up the draperies and the drops because they would go to painting. And, of course, the other psychological thing is to do the difficult things first. Ge them out of the way. The most difficult things in the show. They take the longest, and there's the most chance of fouling up. And you give yourself more time for corrections. In any case, hopefully, you have enough men and enough facilities to get the whole show going at one time, which is not always possible. But, if you're making a decision, you're making it on those factors. Q. Can you name a show that you consider a landmark show, that people were interested in, something you felt that people who worked on it were proud of? A. The interesting thing about that question is that we speak on different levels. The inner group of the industry, that is the designers are one level, and we have had a show for instance, called Statis Quo Vadis which played one night in New York. Now, as a credit, it has very little value because practically nobody ever heard of the play. The reviews were terrible. But scenic designers are very much interested in their own business. They're very much into the theatre, and most scenic designers try to see every show there is. And scenic designers did see that particular show. The set was marvelous and those are the only people that know it. And to some degree they're the only people that count. And as a result Of that particular set, we've done a number of others, other sets. However, in a show like That Championshipiseason, which we built, it was a nice set, well done, it was not spectacular. But the fact that it was known and ran for three years, as you said, we built "Championship" : people who don't know what the set looked like say, "Oh, that's very impressive." It's the psychological factor. I don't think the set was that particularly good, however, it was a hit and a hit is what really counts. The original set was built for Off Broadway, and then it was moved onto Broadway. The road company of That Championghip Season was about three times better than the Broadway Show. Q. The set? A. The set. Q. Did you build that? A. Yes. But it was built on a different basis, not as an off Broadway show. If you build a show that's a success, that has something in it. But the peOple who really know, the designers could see That Championship Seaggg. "And look at that lousy paint job," or whatever they might say about it. That's what counts to them. In terms of the question, a television show called Wedding Band was a magnificent scenic triumph in terms of it being like a movie. 264 Realistic, and those people who saw the television version, including the designers, I'd say that was an outstanding work of ours. The Ag Pair Man was another one, playing at the Vivian Beaumont Theatre. That had alot of trick effects, the set collapsing and so forth. Something that most peOple and most designers saw and were very impressed with, and people I haven't heard from in years call up and say, "I understand you built Au Pair Man. I just want to call and say how great it was." Designers are interested in their art, and each set is like a piece of sculpture. If it had that quality to inspire them to call, it had to be something special. Designers have decided that this is their livili- hood, and their life, and they do spend time to go see plays to see what other designers are doing, out of interest, out of getting new ideas and growing. Q. Have designers ever come and made a tour of your shop? A. Rarely, unless they had nothing else to do. They're busy doing their own work, and most designers get around to all the shops, eventually. And when they come in to look at their own shop they get to see what you're doing for other people too. And they certainly almost always express interest in the scenery for other people in the shop, the plans, and so on. And there's a total give and take. These designers are brother members of the union, but also there's a dual thing that happens. Q. Is there a grapevine that's pretty active between the studios? Do you know what Nolan is doing, does he know what you're doing? A. It's not active in that sense. If you're bidding on a show and competing with let's say two other shops, it might be a prudent thing to find out what those other two shops are doing to help you determine your bid. If one of those other two shops bidding is working overtime on three other shows you think he's going to bid high on this new show. Or you might find the guy is doing nothing, and he's going to be looking for the show. SO it gives you a basis of judging where you're at in terms of what kind of price you're going to pay. Q. Is there any particular pattern? Is there one kind of group which would go for one kind of show, or is it just guesswork, you never know what's going to happen? A. In general, musicals are different than dramatic shows. Musicals are much more difficult to do. They require more space, require a different set of knowledge and mechanics. Pete Feller and Nolan are both specialists in that field. Therefore, a producer doing a musical might not even bother inviting anyone else to bid. Just invite Pete Feller and Nolan and maybe one other person. 265 That would be a determining factor. By virtue of their space and their stock of mechanical devices, they're better qualified than anybody elese to do musical shows. As an example, most action onstage, whether it be a wagon moving on and off, or a turntable turning, so forth, there's an electric winch, and the reason for an electric winch as against a hand winch is, obviously, stagehands time. Now this musical might have ten to fifteen winches. Each one of these winches cost about $3,000 to make. . The practice is not to sell the winch to the producer, but to rent it. If you happen to have 150 winches, like Pete Feller does, you're in a fairly good position to rent winches. He gets 150 winches by circumstance. Somewhere in the beginning, fifteen, twenty years ago economics determined that the electric winch, despite it's being costly, you could handle better, was ultimately more economical in terms of saving stagehands. At some point, the stagehands cost became higher than the cost of a moter, so somebody decided, "We're going to electrify our standard hand winches." And at the time, Pete Feller did the first show, and he had enough foresight to say, "I'm not selling these things. I'm renting them to the show." He probably charged exactly what it cost to make them, but then got them back, so he had fifteen winches. Then he rented them to a show, and then he did another show. He had another fifteen, and then another show. And, finally, Pete Feller would have four, five or six musicals of his, working on Broadway at the same time. And over the years, he built up to the point of having 150 winches. All of which says that he is probably the guy to go to unless Nolan has about twenty winches, maybe thirty winches. We are not the person to go to since we have one winch. It's really a simple fact. Some musicals don't have winches in them. It's a different kind of musical, so, of course, we could do that. The other factor is musicals generally have alot of drops. It's a question of floor space on that. To paint, as I pointed out earlier, we have space for one or two at most, and if there's twelve hangings on a show, it's going to take an awful long time for us to put out twelve hangings. Peter Feller could put down five at one time; he's in a better position. There are many many factors involved. Q. Have you been around to the other scene shops? A. Nest of them,---not all. Q. Is there a particular order, a pecking order? A. I would say, yes. I would say that Pete Feller, because of the size of his plant, has years in the business, his reputation, and so forth, would be the prime scenic shop in the country. And I don't say that lightly. I mean in the country. 266 I would say that Nolan Scenery is probably second, again, because of length of time in the business, size, knowledge. From there on in, it gets very vague, in terms of who would be third. I feel that we're number three, but that's me saying it. It depends on your criteria. I think we're number one in some areas. For instance, we are the only shop that I know of that has a drapery shOp, and perhaps each shop has a sewing machine. We have a drapery shop and an upholstery shop. And we have peOple here who are the best, the best in the country as far as I'm.concerned. That is in devising ways of doing things with draperies. We have developed what we call, for instance, Velmmaform, which is three dimentional scenery, purely out of fabric. It's a question of how well man conceived the sewing machine--what he can do with the sewing machine. I feel, in general, we are the best. Q. This is an innovation exclusive with you? A. Yes. Q. Can you tell me how that works or is it a secret? A. NO secret about it. It's within the limitations of the method. We make three dimentional objects out of fabric with absolutely minimal kind of framing. It's done with a pattern, a pattern of sewing. It's very difficult to describe. You'll have to see it. Q. In a relief, you mean, like a sculpting? A. Like a sculpting. Columns for instance, a column is a cylinder. Now, if you take a plywood ring, top and bottom to form the diameter of a column, and just apply fabric around the perimeter of the plywood, and hang the two pieces of plywood, you have basically a cylinder. From that little concept, take off with variations in shapes. Q. Do you have any problem collecting money? How do you accept your money, to what extent will you go? A. Well, there again there's a general vague rule that we break. That is, expecially on Broadway. The general contracts have to be paid on signing the agreement, partial payment, and then partial payment halfway through the building, and full payment before the show goes out of our shop. That is traditional. We always have contracts Of that kind. That is, C.O.D., paid before the show is out. However, this does not account for many of the extras that happen. 267 The show goes either into a New York theatre, or out of town. And after setting up, we discover we need a new set, or all we need is drapery, making, or whatever, "Rush them," and at that stage, you're in rehearsal and that, again, is tradition. Send it out. These people are in trouble; they need it. Unless there is some known reason why you shouldn't. As a result of this, you send extra things to the show. It never makes it to New York, or it folds the first week, and you loose money. Those people you have a vivid memory of. Producers, business managers who have allowed you to get into this position, so you try not to let that happen again with those producers. There are other groups of repertory theatres who are in a different position than the normal producer who sets up shop for one show. The New York Shakespeare Festival, the Phoenix Theatre, for instance. We have contracts with all those people. But when that truck goes out and the money is not there, we let it go out. Because we know, like with the Shakespeare Festival, that they will send the money. We know that from experience. Sometimes we wait a long time. We are in such a close family business we cannot refuse. Television, very Often we extend credit like any other business depending upon, again, who is the producer. If we happen to be working for a network, we extend credit. We do alot of work for Channel 13. Q. I want to ask you about the extras, how that works. If there has been some exotic effects ordered extra, and it's not in the contract, how do you get paid for them? What happens if the show folds after the first night? What's your next move? A. Well if you send out extras and do not get paid before the show folds, you are in trouble. Q. There is no money? A. Generally speaking, there is no money. But if the business manager is really on top of it, he can sometimes get you part of the money. Alot of the decisions regarding what you're doing on this particular show is a feeling you get about what kind of show it is. It behooves you as an interested party to ask questions to whoever you can. How is the show going for instance when it's in rehearsal. Now if somebody says it's terrible or a disaster, and somebody calls you for extras, you can Obviously be a little more careful in that case. Purely feeling, and very often you don't make the right decision. The show could be thought of as great, and be panned by the critics and die. But I must say, it does not happen very often. 268 Q. I sense it's the names of authors, producers and directors? A. Personally, I'm not as well informed in that area as I might be. And even if I were, it might be more a hinderance than help. Because a guy's last success is no guarantee of a new success. Murray Schisgal who did Jimmy Shine proceeded to do alot of bombs after that. Its what he's got there that counts. The fact is the name involved is really meaningless. What does count is somebody's Opinion that you respect. He says it's a good show or a bad show. SO the best policy, obviously, would be to get paid up front. Q. As a showgoer, can you make a prediction on the future of of the theatre? A. Purely speculative, I don't pretend to be able to tell the future. I think the showcase is obviously becoming more and more important. A showcase where people can produce a show for next to nothing. More and more showcases are happening. I think Off Off Broadway is growing, and I think general theatre will always be here, but I think it's on a level, now, that probably will not increase. Q. You said the theatre's going to be here because it always has been here. Does this give you a sense of security knowing this? A. To some degree, but there will be a need for theatre, and, and therefore, a need for somebody like us in one area or another, maybe television, film, the theatre. It gives me that little hope that we have a place in society, and I like the place. Q. Many people in this area seem towork in relative autonomy. Nobody really knows who built the sets; nobody knows how they were built. Do you think this is advantageous? A. You say nobody knows? Who do you mean? Q. It's an inner circle. The designers know, but in many cases the producers don't even know. They may know, but they don't even care. They don't know there are people involved who are not on stage, and, in my experience, that accounts for their ruthlessness with money. So, my question is, do you think it's an advantage to be known? A. I think it would help us if we were more known, but I don't have a strong opinion about not getting recognition. I think the set is only part of the scene. If the set is beautiful and the play is rotten, it ultimately means nothing except as a temporary work of art that has no longevity. The nature of a set is that it's temporary, and ultimately it can contribut to the success Of a play. But the degree in which it contributes is Open to question. There are awards given to designers for expertise, but there are no awards I know of given to the best constructed set. 269 Q. There was one, once, Albie MacDonald got a Tony. A. I don't remember that. Pete Feller was mentioned once, not as a shop but as an individual. However, the reviewers mention the set always, and they feel it's an important part of the play, like the costumes. It's usually a casual statement. "The set was great or adequate." And people do applaud sets. As I started to say, I don't have complaints. I think it would be nice if greater recognition was given to the art form than there is, but then again, I have to realize, or recognize the context in which it is. That is, we're executers of somebody's design rather than creators of that design. And how well it's executed, one never knows. How it would have looked if somebody else executed the same design. What subtle differences there might be. Q. Don't you have to do the work with drawings,or is that very minimal? A. It's minimal, but even if it were not minimal, it wouldn't matter toanybody. What ultimately matters is what it looks like. The scenery could be covered with cardboard. Q. DO you find yourself advising designers? A. Designers --very few designers have very much knowledge of materials and mechanics. Some do; most don't. They'll say, for instance, "I want this set to move on stage. Give me a wagon." How the wagon works, what's going to make it wOrk, very few have any concept at all. The director says, "I want such and such to happen, kind of magical special effects. This is what I want." How to do it, very few designers have knowledge in that area. And you advise in that area, and if he chooses the wrong material to choose something, you might suggest something that would not only work better but might be cheaper. So you're constantly in the situation of advising and discussing. Q. Talking about sets, I saw Sherlgck Holmes, and it was applauded. I also know that it was brought over from England. You mentioned labor relations. How does that work? If you have American designer's unions building the shows, what happens when you bring a show over from Europe? For instance, a few years back, there was a raging controversy about a show, but Messmore told me that he had to rebuild a portion of it. Will this rebuilding satisfy something? Can it be satisfied? A. I'm not knowledgeable in that area. I only think that, for one thing, a scenic designer has to be hired in this country, so he would act as supervisor in terms of setting it up. 270 Some designs may be brought over from England and executed here, but there would still be a company designer. As far as I know, the only determining factor in moving a show from one part of the world to the other would be the cost of shipment and the customs. The customs are very strict about it. And if the producer decides it's cheaper paying the shipping and the customs charges, he'll bring it in. There's no union law stopping it. The unions have tried, unsuccessfully, to stOp it, but I don't see on what grounds they could. Nothing in the contracts stOps it, but I do think the determining factor is purely economical. Q. Do you have any feelings on that? Do you think they should be allowed to bring in whatever they want? If it's a EurOpean show? A. My feeling is that they should be allowed to do it presuming that they agree with some of the codes, New York City codes are fireproofing, and so forth. If the show is built properly and not endangering anybody in any way, they should be allowed to do it, as we should be allowed to send our scenery overseas. Q. But, in many cases, we're not. As a matter of fact, actors are allowed to act over here for a longer period of time then our actors are allowed over there. The show, for instance that is starring an entire cast I think after twelve months has to have an American cast. Is there any similar arrangement with scenery? A. I really am not familiar with that aspect. My feeling is that there should be a totally free exchange. It just happens to be a peculiar product to ship around. If the set is well designed and well built in England and is a thing of beauty, why destroy it? Why try to duplicate it just because of some union problems? Q.Since you've been in the business, has there been a particularly good time or bad time to work? Some have told me that this is the worst time. Other people say no, six months ago was the worst time. A. It's purely a matter of circumstances. We're somewhat different, in the sense that we do television. If we were doing just one Broadway show, we would not be busy. The fact that we're doing a television show in conjunction, makes us busy. We're working on the future. As a matter of fact, the immediate future is determined more by what's happening in television than by what's happening on Broadway. Q. May I ask how much business you do here? A. We do approximately three quarters of a million or a million would be close. 271 Q. This is changing the subject entirely. In the shOp, what is the minimum you have to have to work with, and I'll ask you in terms of tools, facility and in terms of working men and supervision? Let's start out with tools. What do you have to have? Sewing machines? A. We have sewing machines, a great variety of sewing machines. In talking about what does a scenic shop need, what do we do? We do woodworking, painting, draperies and metal work. Starting with the woodworking, we don't do any fancy cabinet work, so therefore, minimum. would be a table saw, cut-awl,radial saw and a band saw, basically are the tools you need. You can get more sOphisticated and have mortise and tennOn‘ machinery, joining machinery, thick- ness planes, and so forth, but, basically, a band saw, a table saw, and a cut-awl,radial saw, plus a complement of drills and a portable jigsaw. To become more efficient, we have a compressor system, automatic staplers, nailers, and so forth. In the paint shop, we have brushes of various kinds, most of which are hand made to achieve certain effects. And there are tools, some of which are known, some of which.are known, some of which are not known. They are scenic artist tools for achieving certain effects, rollers, rollers with pattern designs. And insecticide sprayers is an extremely important tool; it is used constantly. In the drapery shop we have sewing machines and all sorts of other little gimmicks, grommeting tools. In the metal shop we do welding of aluminum.and steel, so we have welders to do that and metal cutting machines. Basically, that's ‘what we need. Q. In terms of the personnel, each member of your corporation, the owners, head certain departments as you explained it to me. Would they be considered foreman? And chargeman as well? A. Yes. Chargeman, foremen. Q. You say you have four. Is this the minimum you can work with, or could you run the whole operation yourself? A. By contract, the first scenic artist in the building is the chargeman. It must be. It doesn't matter what his talent is. By contract he's a chargeman, and he receives a special rate of pay. You see, I visited a shop that only had one, and he was working. Are there limits to the things he can do? A. Any rule can probably be broken, if the Scenic Artist union knows about it, they will not permit it. 272 Q. well, he does certain things. But I was told if he had to paint anything that was big he wouldn't do it unless he had somebody helping him. A. He's inaccurate in terms of his interpretation of the contract. I not only know this, but went through it two days ago. We had an experience where we had two men, the chargeman and one other man. The other man did not show up, and at ten O'clock we had a call. The other man called in sick, and we got a call from the union saying how come we did not call at ten o'clock in the morning to get another man? There was a whole hassle regarding that because they call in and ask who's working. Q. Every day? . A. Yes, they not only call and ask who's working, but what you're working on. By asking what you're working on, they find out what's happening in the industry. "Is there a scenic designer on a show and why wasn't the show registered?" And their registering a show indicates that a certain percentage of dues from the scenic designer, contracts have to be written with the producers. And that's their policing method of daily phone calls to every shop in the area. So one does not want to lie. They don't call us, they call their own people, the chargemen or the_sh0p steward. The second man would be the shop steward. Q. The chargeman has to be a member of the shop. So you might have more cooperation with the union if you were a member? A. Probably. As I see it, we're not unique. I think the people most competant in any area are the ones least concerned about union dues. The incompetent is always trying to protect himself through security, stick by the rules, I need anotha man and so forth. And I think that's probably true of every shop in the city. The basic chargeman is the best man available for that particular show. He's the most sompetant. And there's also the dual situation. He's working somewhat as manager and somewhat as union, so he has to balance one against the other. And some of those rules are unreasonable. When there's one man in the shop and he's painting a little sign, he knows it's unreasonable to ask his employer to hire an additional man to stand around and watch him do it. 273 So he's in a funny position. But the rules are the rules. The union couldn't care,especially at a time when there is really not that much work. There are people on a list, scenic artists who are out of work call the union and say I need work, and are put on alist. And, as that list grows, the union puts on the pressure, in terms of following the rules. If everybody's out, they couldn't care less. Q. Do the owners have to be members of the union? A. No. Q. Can you do work? A. If you're not a member of the union? You cannot paint scenery, for instance. In regard to building something, there again, it would depend on who's going to say anything. The shop steward, let's say. If you're abusing the privilege, and you're not paying dues or percen- tages, some shop stewards might call the unions!!! say, "This guy is working on the floor. What is this?" And the union might take some action. I have never experienced this. I don't think there is any shop owner that I know of that is not a member of the union. Not any longer. There used to be. Q. You're accurate there. unless it's South Jersey? A. He's a member of Scenic Artists. There's two partners there. One is a scenic designer; one is a businessman. And I don't think that business person does anything in the shop. Q. Is there anything unique about you? I suppose, it's the drapery shop? A. Well, I suppose, it's our personality. A personality starting with the fact there are four owners. Q. Do you think you can do things faster, or do you need a certain amount of time? How much time do you need to do a show? What is the least amount of time you've done a show? Let's talk about a Broadway show now, a one set show. A. I would say that two weeks to build a show is not unusual, but it's considered very little time by everybody. But we often get into the situation where we have no work and there are two shows bidding at the same time. If you get both shows, you would have to knowingly get both shows. You would have to build into the price some overtime because you require it for two shows. On the other hand, if you put that kind of overtime into the price, you might not get either one of them. So it often happens that you need one of them. You will put in a fairly low price and you will get one, fine, no problem. 274 Sometimes you get both of them. At that point, because of the shop, our shop's physical condition, we might have to literally build one, and when we finish start the other one. Not totally. Q. You couldn't do two shows simultaneously in the shop. A. We could build parts of two shows, but we could only set up one. That thing we talked about, That Championship Seasgg_was built in four days because we were doing a show called Ring Around the Bathtub which was a total disaster, and took more time on that show, because it went out four days before the other one. And we literally built That Chggpionship Season starting Thursday morning and delivered it Monday. And whatever lack of quality was to some degree the speeding which we did up to the time we had to fluff off. But that's another reason why the road company was a better show. We had three months to do that. However, no apologies, it was not a bad job for four days. Q. So what can be done for a musical. A ballpark figure could be six weeks? A. That would be nice. Sometimes it's less, sometimes more. Q. May I ask about the cost of things? If the show has a number of sets, can we get a grand figure, $50,000, for instance. For a musical, $100,000? A. I say certainly $100,000 for a musical is a nice average. And some are done for $50,000 and $60,000. I don't know if there is something like an average, but to be a producer and set a budget of $30,000 for a musical would be unrealistic. I think $75,000 to $100,000 would be realistic. A one set dramatic play has to start at $20,000. Q. Doyou happen to remember what it was for That Chamgionship Season? A. That was about $26,000. The road company was somewhat more. Q. $26,000 and that was just a one set show. What drove the price over $20,000? A. The size, the step units, different levels, the height of the set. It was one set, but it was a fairly large one set, considering nothing moved. 275 Q. You mean the portals? A. The number of portals too. No, not the portals. There was a ceiling on the show. It was one set which I think involved a number of sets, like going upstairs. Q. It had an exterior? A. Veronica's Room.was another one setter which had twenty-two feet ceilings, very large. But it was a very Gothic, panneled kind of set. Q. DO you have a particular kind of formula that you follow or do you sit down and plug it out? A. It used to be before my time, painting was estimated in square footage, some kind of formula was figured for complicated drops. It seems to me impossible to work out. As you witnessed here, some little discussion here about the cost of something, a Phillip's scrim. I know the price today; I would not estiua te tomorrow what it's going at because the price goes up. Q. What kind of scrim is that? A. It's a back scrim; it's a double layer of scrim, manufactured. So it does not have the same quality as a sea-through quality. It's almost opaque. But it's cheaper than‘ seamless, and it comes thirty feet wide, so that's why people use it for cycloramas. As an example of that particular problem, I was estimating two drOps, as part of two hour Operas. Seamless drops. I was estimating, and, being aware of the problem, I called a company to find out what the price was. It was the day I was estimating. It was $56.00 a yard. Then a week later, I got the job, and the price had gone up to $75.00 a yard. Q. Couldn't you tell them the price went up? A. As it turned out, we did not do the show. At the last minute, there were other problems. This was for the Washington Opera Society. They decided to rent the scenery from the City Opera Comapny. I didn't pursue that particular problem. Seamless muslin is not made in this country. And you're subject to a thousand conditions, importing from Germany or Belgium, shipping is just one problem. There are not too many places you can buy seamless muslin. In any case, the price of cotton goodsis going up, and so it's very difficult to run by any kind of formula. 276 There's formulas in sewing, like so many dollars in labor, per seam, even that is uncertain. You can learn a drop size, or a border, and look at it and say it's going to take so many hours to do this job. The scene formula is not something that I like to get into. Q. So in other words you price everything out. Do you have assistants who do this, or do you do it alone? A. I do it myself alone. In this case, Joe Castanno, for draperies, is putting his figures down. I do it; he does it. There's a big difference. Usually, I'm higher, in terms of man hours because most people don't estbmate realistically. If you ask a carpenter how many hours it will take to build a bookcase, he'll tell you two hours. He's always wrong. Q. You know it takes longer? A. He forgets his coffee breaks. He forgets going to get the lumber. Q. Pete Feller said the exact same thing. A. It's true. There's a psychological factor also. He always wants to look good, understand that. It will take him so long to do it. That's not:what you're after. But, on the other hand, you check and see. Perhaps you're low. Errors in estimating are easy, expecially the drapery. That's my weakest area in the field because there's tricks of sewing draperies that he knows that I don't, or problems in sewing it that I don't. Q. Well some people use a square foot formula on platforms for decks. Whatever material is on the wall, that's another price and in some cases, I'm told if it doesn't have any material, therjust give the price by square foot. A. Well I don't do that. I suppose, ultimately if you have enough experience with your own Operation, and if you can go back and figure out what it cost you to do some of these different shows, that you could figure out the square footage of each show, and you could probably come up with a formula. But it's a very week crutch as far as I'm concerned because the variations are what can kill you. Q. Is there anything you avoid when you see it? In other words, you're invited to bid and you walk in and you see what kind of a show it is? A. Oh, Obviously there are shows you look at and you say, "This one's trouble. This one is going to be trouble for whoever does it." 277 It may be the nature of what's asked for. The Newhouse Theatre, they decided this year to build a basic set. They would just add props and samll set pieces for their Shakespearian productions. The set, as planned, was to be made out of hardwood, boxed in with columns, and then there were two or three levels. And I loved it, I loved the challenge of it, and everybody else wanted to stay away from it. Q. I want to ask you, you said hardwood? I know that's not pine. A. In that case oak was asked for. The lengths and the widths required were not readily available. Hardwood is generally bought in random widths and random lengths and they have to planed down. They're not dressed, like softwood are. You do not order a l x 6 piece of oak. A piece of oak is 7 inches wide; you trim it down. The amount of quantity required, the work required to put the oak together was unreasonable to me in terms of time and what the total set would cost. We could have bid on the show, but I felt it was costly, and whether I was right or wrong, was academic. The fact that somebody else bid lower, whether or not he lost money, I'll never know. It was my feeling when I looked at it that it was not the kind of show. I felt I could handle low because of the workload and so forth. A lot of times, whether you want to do a show or not depends exactly on what the physical condition of the show is. And whether or not it requires alot of painting, and you're very busy painting, or vice versa. Sometimes you want a show badly because it's alot of painting. They're so many factors and each day is another operation. Q. What would you say is the most interesting aspect of this business to you? A. The combination of the total challenge, total challenge like something new in terms of the set itself, in terms of the people involved in the dynamics of getting it done. Starting with the designer, the producer, the money, and the personality of the people you're working with, and each one is an independent soul who has his own idea of how to approach it. The whole thing. Q. It sounds like you consider it glamorous. Well you said to me that people in this business are pretty much like all other people, so this means to me that you're not like anybody else. Most people are very security conscious. They don't like constant challenges, and they don't like this adventure constantly. A. WellI guess I wasn't too clear about that. When I said most people in this business are like anybody else I meant that their motivations, and their problems and their egos are the same, but it's true that they're not like other people. 278 You have to really like this business to be in it. Certainly as a business man you would not invest the amount of time required for the returns that you're probably going to get out of this business. It's a very special thing. You don't make an inventory that you can sell anybody. If you happen to have a warehouse and build up a stock of scenery if you're going to sell it at auction, which happened to me, incidentally. We got $225 for what amounted to about $60,000 worth of scenery. The place was auctioned off by creditors to get what they could out of it. Q. I thought you intended to buy it back yourself? A. We bought what we needed to go on in the business, so we bought for $100 things we could use. Because of the cost of handling it, what could we do? It's more of a burden than it's worth. It's a negative value. Outside of equipment, machinery that has a universal value. Most things you make have extremely limited value. Q. This is the first time anybody told me they went bankrupt. Do you thin alot of people who started out as many times as you have might have quit? A. I know of the only one that has shown that kind of perseverance. It's an asset, and I've come to the point where I'm not ashamed of it any longer. I used to be. It was very difficult to live with. I constantly failed, one time after another. So I've examined my own feeling about it, and let's say I've rationalized about it. Q. You say you love the business, and that's probably the only reason that3maxstay in it. This a pressure business right? Constantly? What kind of rewards do you get? Is there a singular thing? Is there a point where you can say, "Ah-ha, I can relax now and take a vacation?” A. The rewards are everywhere. First of all, I do earn a living. I survive, support a family, and so forth. And I've always done that despite my going out of business. I immediately started again, without a day off during all these crises that I've lived through. Second of all, it's the creative achievement. The value that has, how do you determine that? I love the theatre, and I love being involved in the theatre. I love actors and people in the theatre. They're special kinds of people. And I love the fact that I'm in it and part of it. Q. Do you have friends in the theatre? A. As a general group, I love theatre people better than any other group, better than bankers or accountants. They're generally more liberal, and better understanding of life and peOple. 279 Even though they're crazy. For anybody to be an actor and work two weeks and be Off six months. But they're more interesting. Call it glamour, or call it whatever you like. There's something very exciting about a friend of yours being onstage. To be part of that world is interesting. I don't know of anything else that could match it. If I were an engineer in the space industry, I'd probably be working on one part, laboring over one litte part. There are achievements I'll never know, but it's nothing compared to the total, creative, social rewards. Q.Are there many people like this or this is the minority? I'm asking if most people are in it for the money? For instance, I had a fellow tell me he thinks 20 percent of the people who are in the shop are in there because they enjoy the work, the rest are in for the money. A. I have not made an analysis of that, but I suspect that the percentage is Off. I think, and we're talking about the talented people, that they could probably make alot more if they had a steady job in a different industry. I think they like being in this kind of business. We're talking about the carpenters. The scenic artists do make enough money from this that they probably could not make anymore anywhere else. They're in it for the money. There are a percentage who are good and enjoy painting. The general run of scenic artists who schmear paint can't possibly enjoy that job. But they can't all be in it for the money. Percentage wise, in that area, I'd agree that percentageiD percent are really good and enjoy what they do. The rest go from place to place, and it's just a job. It's better than painting houses because they get paid more. It's cleaner, and it's more prestigeous. But in the carpentry I don't know. I suspect that the greater percentage like the diversity, And they also like the achivement, creativity---although very few of them actually go to the theatre to see say, "You know, I built that window," or,"I built that step unit. There's very few that are into that. Q. If I can go back for a minute? It sounds like to me, when I asked you howyou started all this that you started as a truck driver. Is that true? And then you became a prop man? A. While I was going to school, I was a truck driver, and a stevadore, and a taxi driver, and a waiter, and so forth. So when I went to apply for a job at NBC,I really was applying for a job in their personnel office. And they had a job opening in their trucking office as a trucking supervisor. And my personal experience having driven a truck plus my educational experiences on the Labor Relations were ideal to be a trucking executive. 280 At that point, I really was just looking for a job to make enough money to survive and also with a promise that if a job opened in personnel I'd be called. And I was, as a matter of fact, after six months work. By that time, six months, I was more interested in what was happening in the studios of the television show than I was working in personnel. My whole attitude shifted. Also at that time, NBC brought Warner Bros. buildings out in Brooklyn and was opening a new operation and there was an opportunity there for me to go out to Brooklyn and start a new operation. Q. Where was that? A. It's the old Vitaghraph Studios, on East 14th Street. Q. That's pretty long ago, isn't it? A. I'm talking about 1951. NBC first rented its facility, started an operation in Brooklyn, mainly for its large studio which was at that time the largest television studios in the country, owned by the Warner Bros. film studio. And there was a shOp attached. There was an opportunity for me to go in there as an assistant scenery supervisor. And I knew nothing about scenery, whatever. All I knew was how to move it from one place to another in the truck. But as circumstances would have it, the supervisor of scenery knew even less than I did. Two blind people being led around by union people who did know. This could only happen in a network. Then also since it was so far removed and it was 1951 and the heyday of TV,of live television in New York--so busy that people didn't want to know about Brooklyn. So all the estimating was done in Brooklyn. It was a completely independant Operation, and the supervisor had to do the estimating and he was just not qualified. At least I know he didn't have a feeling for a piece of wood. And I was looking over his shoulder watching him struggling, and I found that I could struggle more easily than he could, and I started estimating--totally unsure of myself--totally frightened of what I was doing and... Q. Estimating the value of what you had in the shop? A. No estimating shows. And the reason Brooklyn came into being in the first place was that at that time they were planning Max Leibman spectaculars. And they were spectacular. There they had this gigantic studio..twice the size of anything in New York and Max Leibman was (hing the setting for nine spectaculars. The scenery was running $50,000, $60,000, $70,000 which was a lot of money in those days. 281 Q. And you were extimating the cost of these? A. Yes, and I didn't know what I was doing. Q. This seems like a pretty chancy thing. A. Nobody knew how to do it. And, furthermore, there weren't too many people qualified. But, in any case, there was a supervisor who came from CBS, who supposedly had experience in it. And they didn't even know that he was fired from CBS. That's how busy they were. In any case, my official job was head of the Prop Department, assistant to the supervisor. But it just became obvious that I had a feeling about working. Q. So you were making things? A. No, I was managing. In any case, I went through alot of traumatic experiences in estimating, guilt in the fact that at least I was smart enough to do one thing, that is to overestimate instead of underestimate. That was the result of my fear of being wrong. But my guilt came in when I overestimated and forced the designer and everybody fils' to cut back the show. And I would sit there and say, "What am I doing? Am I forcing them into doing something I really shouldn't be doing?" But in any case, for some .strange reason, I really wasn't that far off. I had a feeling for working. I can't tell you. I think it was a result of doing twenty years of model airplane work which I was heavily into. I was a compulsive model airplane builder, designer, and so forth. And reading the plans of model airplanes and putting them together was no different than putting certain aspects of scenery together only dealing with different peOple, different rates, and so forth. But it gave me that ability to look at plans, understand them. Maybe that's one of the reasons I was able to start doing-intuitive things. Also I had ideas of my own, of how to do things. Being innovative, in the sense that since I had no experience of how things were done, I conceived ways of doing new things. People in the union say, "We've been doing this thing for 150 years this way. What are you talking about?” I say, "That's the way I estimate it. That's the way I.want it built.” I think it's a matter of strength of personality, confidence. Building enabled me to survive. And after a few years, I became I became very good at it. I'm very good at my job. Q. I wanted to ask you about when you jumped from the studio with the four owners. What gave you the moxie to do it? Did you have any money, facility? A. We had no money whatever. As a matter of fact, we put up $1000 apiece, which meant $6000. 282 What we did have was a good reputation for one thing, and skilled knowledge, and Personal relationship with vendors that we were dealing with at NBC. 80 we were able to get credit. But the primary thing we had was an idea which was an idea I conceived which turned out to be disasterous. But it was an idea. Q. What year are we talking about? A. 1960. But NBC was doing a show called "Bell Telephone Hour," a weekly series, musical variety kind of show. I conceived of an idea which was simply this. Over two years, three years, I figured out the cost of each of those shows and came up with an average of $9,000 per show for the set. Some. were eight some were twelve. It came out to this average of $9,000. And I went to the Bell Telephone Hour and said, "I was thinking of Opening my own company and I would like your contract." I would give them a blanket contract to do all their shows, the entire season for X dollars which for them meant no estimating required, no hassle, a fixed cost they could count on. It was very good for them. They had sixteen shows that first season. I gave them an estimate of $160,000 for the sixteen shows. Figuring well I covered myself on $1,000 additional average. A great idea. What I did not count on at the time was that they switched designers, and the designer was heartless. He was interested in only one thing, himself. And, in any case, there was some discussion about control, and in a vague sense I expected some kind of reasonable approach to the problem. But although they were paying an average of $10,000 per set, they would not change their foremat. They would not ask me to build a $50,000 set. And it was all agreed, and so forth. In any case we lost $42,000 on that contract the first year. Q. When you say lost,thisiswhen you went bankrupt? A. Well it was one of the particular factors toward our going bankrupt. The thing that made it possible to start the business was the Telephone contract which, of course, at the same time, was the thing that made us go out business, or contributed to it. We started with a small shop 7,000 square feet. We had alot of friends, people in television, and we all disliked the networks. The network is a very impersonal, cold kind of thing. It's much more pleasant to deal with people you know and you like. At any rate, our business was fantastic, absolutely fantastic. Within one month, we moved into a 30,000 square feet shop and sublet the first one. And we had shows and we were working. We thought we were going to lick the world because we were doing well over a million dollars worth of business a year. 283 What we were doing was building toward our disaster. We were also competing against networks, especially NBC who was, surprisingly, the network which does have a personality and had a great deal of hate for me personally for taking all these people out of there. Taking the one show away from them, and every show they did while we existed was a fight for them.because we got in to bid on almost every show they did. So, since there was a great deal of hate, and it was their studios, they made life as difficult as possible for us. In any case, it was an exciting year and a half, and during that period I decided I wanted to expand my own personal horizons and work. There was the difficulty I described. We did Broadway shows for less than our cost to try to get into it. That also contributed to our demise, and we were also competing against another independent shop who had the independent television area sewed up until we came in. So we were competing with very low cost to build a company, to build a business. And starting out with $1,000 apiece was just not enough to carry it. And if we had held out six months more, we would have been into the first World's Fair. Q. You say you use vendors and then you go bankrupt. Do you have to change vendors? These purveyors of materials, I'm sure somebody gets hung up.Creditors? A. We diinot stick so very many people. Technically speaking, we do not go bankrupt. We assign the assest of the company to the creditors because I do not want to hurt anybody. And the reason we're forced into that is that the I.R.S. took our bank account for lack of payment of withholding. And it was only $4,000. But it was enough for them to take all the money we had so we could make a payoff. And I decided to. I could have run out and borrowed the money, but I decided that it would be a better move to move on to another company. Q. You teach at Pratt, part time? A. Yes, I teach stagecraft. Q. Are you an adjunct? A. Yes, adjunct. I teach three different course, all under one heading. Q. How did you happen to get that job? A. Pratt decided to expand their theatre department and, as a matter of fact, they are accredited in New York State as a Theatre major. In any case, they had a design course taught by a designer who was a friend, Peter Harvey. 284 He designed Black Picture Show, and he recommended me. And the head of the department, I suppose, had some young person in mind who would relate to young people, much younger than I am. Q. Do you have a degree? A. I have a degree in Sociology. I think, all they require is a degree, a college degree. In any case, I found, just like my beginning experience in estimating twenty four years ago that I was intuitively a good teacher and I loved the people that cared about it. I've had a marvelous three or four year relationship with Pratt and the people. Q.(Question inaudible) A. Yes, I would think so. One, is for the small percentage of students who go to college to be trained so that they can earn a living. Whether they be an accountant or something else. There are a small percentage of people who love the theatre, who want to be designers, be directors, or who want to be in the theatre to earn their living. Whether they are designers, directors, or actors, they have certain value in stagecraft in relation to where they're ultimately going to wind up. Those people who, as you pointed out, will be trained to be teachers to teach people to be trained to be teachers and so forth. Maybe, not unlike some other esoteric subject matter, you study philosophy so you can become a philosophy teacher, primarily, I suppose. And the other level are the people who just want to be there for some unknown reason, for therapy, in terms of working with their hands and enjoying the theatre. And there's a spinoff of a whole bunch of things. It can't even be defined what value that third group gets in terms of working withother people, the dynamics of working and accomplishing something. That I wouldn't even discuss, but at Pratt it was totally that third area of people to enjoy. That's why it was frustrating because nobody was really interested in what was happening. They couldn't care less how it was done and why. I was there for fun, and I don't object that I couldn't appreciate it at least as a total thing, if they're an adjunct to the other part of it. 285 APPENDIX A - 6 Answering Questions - Mr. Leo Meyers Atlas Scenic Studio Interviewed By - J. Collom 10 Wall Street Date - Feb. 1975 Norwalk, Connecticut Q. First, I'd like to ask you how you got started out here? A. Started in the theatre or in this business? Q. How you yourself got started and how you arrived here. A. Alright. Its a long arduous story, I started as a kid in summer stock, painting and designing scenery. Studied at the theatre department at Carnegie Tech and went on from there to designing regional theatre all over the country and on Broadway and Canada, and I became interested in the notion of becoming a scenic contractor. During the process of all this regional work, I became associated with my present partner, Bob Hungerford. We met at the Westport Country Playhouse and then worked together after that in Palm Beach. We got the notion of beginning a contract service as a result of our having worked together successfully for other people. When that decision became solidified, it became a matter of seeking out an area and shaping the scale of the business that we wanted to operate and then seeking the right facility and the right location for it. Q. Are you both members of 829? A. No. I am. Bob is a member of I.A.T.S.E. Q. This in only the second outfit that has this combination? A. Nolan is the same. Yeah. In fact Arnold and I worked together in TV years back. But he didn't study at Carnegie Tech. This is not our first location. We began our business at another premise not too far from here. We sought out other real estate that would accomodate our needs. Found a building and put a shingle up. We didn't have a contract. We didn't know where we were going to get one, but both Bob and I felt we knew enough peOple in the industry that we could get work. We'd both worked with a number of managers, designers, and producers, and we were not unknowns. Q. When you Opened up, did you both have to put a certain amount of money, first? A. Yes, yes, we did. We both naturally financed the Operation. 286 Q. You had no other partners? > Well I'd rather not go into all that. Yours is a different kind of operation? {>0 Totally, Yes. We are owner-Operators. Q. What was your biggest problem at the outset? A. The irregularity of our market, the irregularity of the work flow. It's never seasonal, and you're overhead costs are not. They are continuing, and I think that is a general problem. Throughout our industry.' Q. Can you tell me what percentage of work you do for Broadway, and what percentage for other things? A. Probably about 50% of our work is for New York, Broadway and the larger off Broadway productions, the Shakespeare Festival and something like that, probably 30% of our work is for national tour, and about 20% of our activity is small projects, display, and other assorted kinds of production, local theatres. But we do some con- tracting. Q. About how many square feet operating space in this factory? A. About 9000 or 9800, something like that. Q. How many men do you employ? A. When we're busy sometimes as many as forty people; when we're slow, we lay off people, and go to skeletal staff, of maybe eight people, according to the work load. Q. Do you find an inconsistancy of business from year to year? A. From year to year? Well yes, but then that reflects on the business conditions in general. When there is a business slump we feel it. The recent economic slump did not hit the theatre badly, but, at other times, it has. The reason for it? I don't know. Q. When did you open up here? A. Eight years, seven years going into our eighth year. I'm here at this location five years. 287 Q. Do you have a particular year that was a good one or a bad one? A. They vary, they really do. When you start a new business the first couple of years are your mat difficult. You're cmstantly reinvesting in materials, equipment, but, as you move along, that of course diminishes a little bit. But of course there's always reinvesting, in the staff, the equipment, training. All that costs money. Q. Was there ever a time when you thought you were going to close down? A. Every other day. No. The important thing I think is to function and not have the irregularity throw you, to function with a little lower overhead so that you're not strangled. Q. Do you find certain types of work is better for you than other types economically? Q. Is Broadway the most lucrative? A. Not necessarily. Knowing where you can find a profit is largely dependent on who the people are you're involved with, on how well designed and drafted the show is, how accurate all that kind of preliminary work is, how accurate the planning is, who you have to know then, among your own staff is the most capable and productive, and see that there's a minimum-minimal time and effort loss or waste. There is no time to make mistakes, and there is no margin for making mistakes. It also depends on the materials that are specified. Certain materials are foolproof, others are not. There are many things that we do in this business that require tremendous experimentation. Of course that's costly, and you've got to-if that kind of experimentation is required, you've got to figure for it, and estimate for it, and figure that right into your price. Q. How many shows do you do simultaneously? A. We don't like to do more than maybe two at a time. Our facility is not that large, and the confusion of the work being spread too thin becomes unprofitable. People make mistakes, and very often I'd rather just turn down the project. Q. What is the show you're working on right now? A. This is called Don't Call Back. The designer is Oliver Smith. It stars Arlene Francis. The producers are Charles Dowden and Slade Brown. 288 Q. Can you describe for me how you got this show? A. I have designed productions for Mr. Bowden, and I've known Slade Brown for quite some time, in the industry, and we'd already done a number of shows for Oliver Smith. So it was very logical that they should come to us. ~ Q. They came to you. A. Yes. Q. There was no formal bidding session? A. I'm not sure on that, I really don't know. There may have been. If there was one, I didn't know about it. I'm not sure. The show was done in a rush. And, sometimes when that happens, they may have felt that our price was legitimate, and they wanted to go with it. Q. I guess I didn't understand what you were saying. In other words, you did submit a bid. A. We certainly price our product before we go into contract. Q. Was there a formal bidding session where a number of people were brought in? A. I wasn't present at one, no. Q. How would they know your prices if you didn't submit a bid? A. We investigated the drawings and gave them a bid. Q. Oh, I see. A. And whether they went to other companies or not, I don't know. Q. Is this the way most of your work is done? They call you? A. Yes. But very often there is a bidding session, all the contractors are present, although sometimes they're not all at the particular bidding session. Some of them may be there, some of them may not, some may not be able to make it that particular day, or they'll go in later in the day. But that is handled differently with different managements. 289 ' Q. Do you find that being further from New York City that you're at any sort of a disadvantage? A. Yes. It eliminates to a great extent television work which is right in New York. And usually they work very fast, and usually they shoot very quickly, commercials and that sort of stuff. We do very little of that. We have done feature films, feature videotape productions which have been done out here, but smaller, those quick ones we just can't service them because of the geographic problem. Q. You do actual designing here or most of the work you do with drawings for designs? A. Yes we've done some of them, in some cases. My people, our staff are all designers and artists and what have you. Q. Do you know James Hamilton? A. Yes. Q. His operation, I would categorize is similar to yours. A. Very much so. I think his building is bigger. Q. He told me he can make more money in this business designing than building. May this be true? (for you) A. That's hard to say. It all depends. That's very difficult to say. Q. But in other words, you don't do as much design work as you do building? A. No. I just don't have the time anymore to do it. Q. How long have you been working on this show you're working on? A. About two and a half weeks. Q. Can you describe for me the process you go through after you get the show? A. After we go to contract? 290 Q. Yes. A. The first thing we do immediately is order materials, and then of course the drawings are gone over very carefully, and construction drawings are made by our foreman. Now, depending on the degree of detailed work on the drawings, the shop drawing- we usually---in tricky instances, do specific drawings of our own for our own men to follow. And then we put it to the work as soon as the drawings are done and the materials are in, we bring in our people ani they begin. Q. Since you are a member of 829, is it necessary for you to have two peOple from 829 here, a chargeman and journeyman? A. Yes. Q. Do you find there is less formality here in Connecticut than there would be in New York City prOper as far as the union restrictions go? A. No, it's the same. They come out and/or they call us. We get our regular call every Monday. We're very much in the mainstream of things. Q. Is there a mechanic's union up here? A. Well our members are all I.A.T.S.E. members. There's considerable theatre activity up here, that's why we're fortunate in having the people we have. There's Westport Country Playhouse; there's Stratford Shakespeare Festival, Hartford Stage, the theatre in New Haven, Bushnell; there's a large fine arts auditorium at Bridgeport. So, all of those are fields of endeavor for stagehands in this area. It gives us a labor pool, and it also provides work for three people who are here. It's not the wasteland alot of peOple think it is. And the people are very knowledgable, and there's plenty of real professional activities. Q. Is it necessary for them to belong to the Union? A. Yes. Q. My question is because of this location is it necessary. Because there are people in New Jersey some people are working with non- union members? ‘ A. Well both Bob and I are union members. We feel duty bound to hire union members. 291 Q. Do you have any shows that you recall that were particularly memorable shows that made you feel you were on your way, or got where you wanted to be? A. I try to send out a very complete and very carefully developed project, so that could be very hard to say. There are so many factors that influence good work, and they're not always our attitude and under our control. They have to do with time, budget--many things. Q. About how many shows a year do you do? A. Again, that varies. Q. Would you say two a month? A. Yes, maybe two a month. Some of them are bigger; some of them are smaller. We'll do a musical then or then we'll do a one set show. We're not set up to do enormously large projects unless we have help from outside, because we do have a space problem. Q. You can't do large drops? A. We can't do large work, we can't do it alot, at the same time in this building. But that may or may not be in our favor, I don't know. Q. DO you think you may expand? A. I'm not particularly interested in expanding. Q. Can you see yourself staying in this business? A. Definitely. I've been in it now over twenty-five years. Why should I change? I don't know how to do anything else. It's not the easiest business in the world to function in. It really isn't. It's a very difficult field. And there is such competition that either you are dedicated to it or not. Q. While we're on the subject, would you say that most of the people working for you here in the shop have a dedication or do they do it just for the money? A. Most of them oddly enough, are really quite dedicated to their craft. Otherwise they couldn't turn out the work that they do. That sounds a little artsy-craftsy, but it's very true. Q. It varies, that's why I asked. A. I look at some of the work they turn out, and I'm very proud of it. Because it shows. To me it's the extra ingredient. What separates ordinary work from beautiful work is that you care. And the majority of my people care about what they do. 292 Q. Your staff seems to be younger than most. Is that true? A. I don't know, it's been so long since I've worked in other studios, I donhzknow who's around anymore, but that may be the case. I really couldn't say since I haven't been in some of the other places. Q. I was going to ask you if you'd tell me what you'd consider an average cost of a one set show? A. It varies. Q. What's the range then? A. Low and high? Q. Well you couldn't do a show for under $15,000, could you? A. It's possible. I can't do anything until it's designed and drafted and everything is specified, the material is specified. Q. Let me ask you about the process you went through on this show. A. 0k, there were shop drawings, and blood sweat & tears, and fabric ordering and lumber ordering and paint ordering, and what can I tell you? The show is built in its rough structure before the finished carpentry is done and it's put together and equipped with hardware, which is then taken apart and covered with fabric and reassembled and painted. We usually assemble first, we find it's more efficient. I think most of the studios work that way. Q. Is there any particular problem that you have with this location-setting up for instance? A. Living in New York and commuting. Getting up early. Q. Do you live in New York? A. I do. I drive out. But there's no problem with that except when the weather's bad. My partner lives out here, and most of our staff are local residents. Q. To get back to the show. DO you have a similar process you go through with every show? A. It depends on the show. We really look at the whole project and make decisions on how to proceed with it. Because again, sets vary so much, materials, sometimes we're held up with availability, we can't get a certain thing, and it's not going to be here until the very last minute. So on this show we had difficulty with one thing, and it was done on the set, although the process work we're going to redo something on it. And we didn't plan on it. But we have to do it. 293 Q. When does it have to go out? A. It will be finished tomorrow. Q. Where will it go? A. The Helen Hayes Theatre. Without a road tour. They usually tour a little bit, but I don't think Arlene Francis is available to go out of town. Q. Then it goes out tomorrow, when will it be set up? A. It'll be set up on Thursday. It'll be loaded and shipped tomorrow afternoon. Q. Set up in one day? A. Oh yes. This is a one set show, it should go up in one day. Q. Who will go with this show. A. Well their master carpenter with the show has been out here for several days. The master carpenter is on salary with the producer before it goes into the theatre. Q. Is that true with most shows? A. Yes it is. Q. I thought that it was a split. A. The master carpenter and the electrician go on out because they have work to do. And the prop men. Q. Do they come to work with you? A. Yes, sometimes the spend quite a little time in the shop. while the show is being built so they're totally familiarwith the set. Sometimes we send someone in but it's not always necessary. In order to make them feel more secure, if it's terribly complicated than we do. ‘We usually have someone go but not always. Again, it depends on the set. Q. Do you have only one Foreman? A. At the moment, yes. But sometimes we have two. 294 Q. Can you give me a breakdown of the areas you have in the shop here? A. Well there's the painting department, the carpentry department, the administration staff--, Q. There's the painting department, carpentry department, and the administration office that's where you find most of the men out here. Do you have any specialists in metal? A. Oh yes. Certain men are-have aptitudes in certain fields. We have wonderful men who do metal who are not as adept at carpentry and vice-versa. Some of our carpenters wouldn't want to touch a welder. In every field, a talented professional usually can do everything. Q. I've spoken with other studios and they seem to average about a million dollars business, a little under, a little over, except for Feller, he does about three million. Where do you fall on that scale? A. I'd rather not comment. Q. Would you say that you're below the figure that most of them make? A. No, I'd rather not say. I didn't know my competitors were so wealthy. Q. You mean you don't make that kind of money? A. This is not our whole Operation. We have several other locations. We have storage-we will not store anything here. No room our rent is too high here. We need the space as work space as functional work space. Q. This seems to be a very central location in the middle of town. A. Yes, it is, but this is not particularly cheap real estate. And there is not room for dead storage. Q. Would you care to tell me what your overhead is here? A. Our overhead. No, I won't promise on that. 295 Q. Your rent or how about what it would cost you to open if you didn't do any work at all. To pay your staff. A. No, I really don't wish to say. Q. Some people say it's about $2,000 a week. A. I go into these things with my accountant or tax people, but I don't see the point of going over anything like that. I'm not even sure those people would know. But any business has to have a staff no matter how large or small. I mean we have a few key people who are on all year round even in the slow season here. Your telephone and your bookkeeping goes on. So it's a very difficult thing, we're constantly trying to find out what percentage of our activity our overhead really represents. In a business like ours, because there are tremendous areas of overlapping: when you're doing more than one project there's a great deal of stock supplies that end up going into a show, so sometimes it's very hard to get pinpointed a statement on the cost of certain things. Q. What would you say is your largest problem? A. Our largest problem? The coffee break. They take alot of time on a coffee break; and I'm dead serious. Q. Do you have any trouble collecting money? From producers- A. We try to be inordinately careful with that. But then we're in a field that exists on the surplus dollar. And one of the problems is the speed with which everything is done, and also the speed with which a show can fail and a producer can be bankrupt instantly. So it's very important to expedite contract payments and all that stuff quickly and efficiently and know that everything is in order. Otherwise we'd be in great trouble. We'd have tremendous trouble with extending credit for certain situations. And it is a precarious business at best. Even when all is going well. And it's so important to stay on tOp of it. Q. Do you work on a 1/3, 1/3, 1/3 - basis? A. Again, that varies. Q. Would you ever deliver a show without receiving payment? A. To my mother, but thatsabout all. 296 Q. What happens if they don't have the money? Do you keep the show? A. we have an antique sale out on the street. Again it's a business where you're expenses are very realistic. You're dealing in long hours, and expensive man hours, because everybody's earning top dollar: you're dealing in equipment and supplies which are expensive, and in theatre work, the paint is the best paint you can buy, the best fabrics you can buy, the lumber is A#l. There's no cheap way out. So once again, with work costs what they are, you've got to stay on top of everything. Q. Have you ever been in a situation where you did not receive payment? A. A couple of instances where we've had certain difficulties or disputes. But that can happen in any business I guess. If there's a dispute, there's a way of settling anything. Q. Do you have a lawyer? A. A very good one. We're very well covered on that. But the important thing is to have a clearcut agreement right in the beginning. Q. We were talking about disagreements, when you try to get these things ironed out. What about changes and additions? A. Yes, in a situation like that we attempt to develop the invoice before the show is shipped. So that when the show leaves, everything has been taken care of. Q. But what about changes? If the contractor changes his mind? A. Oh, yes. They're notated. If there's a change on something, the producer or the manager is notified immediately. And there's an agreement. 297 APPENDIX A - 7 Answering Questions - Mr. Francis Mbssmore Messmore & Damon Scenic Studios Interviewed By - J. Collom 530 West 28th Street Date - Dec. 1974 New York, N. Y. Q. I'm interested in the origins of Messmore. A. My father started the business in 1914. Q. And when did you take over the business? A. After 5% years in the Army, 1946. Q. Has it been in this location since it started? A. No. When I came back from the service, we were on 27th and 9th Avenue, we moved to 107th when the city took over the property, and then 5 years ago, the city took over that property, and we came back downtown. Q. How many square feet do you have here? A. 50,000. Completely, yes. 50,000 of manufacturing and warehouse space. Q. How many employees? A. .Right now I don't think more than 15. It could go as high as 50 if we have alot of work. Q. Can you tell me about the International Association of Scenic Builders, how many members there are, and is there a hierarchy? A. There's only about a half a dozen --- there might be one or two more from out of the city. Q. There's Feller, Nolan, Hart? A. Variety. Lincoln Square Scenic, ourselves, then.Atlas in Connecticut, and I can't think of their name down in Lambertville, then a company frmm Washington. Q. Is this the body that negotiates contracts with the union. A. Yes. Q. Representatives from each one? A. Yes. 298 Q. The demise of Broadway, what was that? A. Talking pictures really hurt Broadway for a long time. Even today, there are nowhere near the volume of shows that were before talking pictures. Q. The twenties? A. Yes, and earlier than that. Q.' Would you venture a guess at what was the worst time since you've been in this business? A. Personally? I don't know. I know these recessions come and go, but because we keep ourselves diversified; we're always able to keep moving. We take any kind of a job that we've equipped for, big or small. We don't turn our nose up at any job, regardless of the size. Q. Department store window diaplay and such? A. No. Department stores have gone the way of the Broadway --- in the movies. Department store Christmas work is nil. Q. They don't do it? A. No. Very small. Q. Could you characterize your Operation here? Supposing you get a show to do, you get the bid. A. Then we start building it. Q. Do you do anything especially first? A. The designer gives us plans. We work from his plans. Q. Do you do everything simultaneously? A. Oh no, you do the building first, then you do the painting. If you happen to have a drop to do, you get the fabric in and let the artist paint the drop while the show is being built. Q. Do you have enough space to do drOps? And setup? A. Yes, sure. We do the Radio City Christmas show, and we'll be starting on the Easter show. But I'd say on an annual basis, we do more work for Radio City than anyone else. Not that it's that much. 299 Q. Can you tell me that percentage of the work you do is for Broadway? A. Very small. Q. Where do you find most of your work going? A. We happen to do exhibit work, which is part of our field. Q. That's your bread and butter? A. Anything we can get is bread and butter. Q. Are you invited to bid? A. Yes, we bid on shows, we did - we rebuilt Sherlock Holmes, and we did the current show that's at the Circle in the Square, Where's Charley?, and we've been doing a series that are at the Walnut Street Theatre in Philadelphia. We've done two already, Misalliance and Ardelle. And there are two more to go, The Importance of Being Earnest and Long Day's Journey Into Night. Those will both be done in the course of the next three months. And we also do industrial shows; did one for IBM, and one for Johnson and Johnson, and we're doing one now for Xerox. We do industrial shows on a fairly regular basis, as often as they are required. Q. Could you give me some history of how this business got started? A. My father was a stagehand, and it seemed like a natural progression to start making things. Q. Then he got a shop, and started contracting? A. He started in California, at the time of the Panama Pacific Exposition in 1915. And that's when he really got serious about it. He organized this business here then he went out there and then they decided to settle here and continue. Q. Did this start out as a larger Operation doing more shows? A. Well, you have to look at the history of Broadway. In the very early phases, he did some Broadway work, but he was more confined to outdoor celebrations and parades, floats, things like that. And with the demise of Broadway, he gave that up completely and went into department store Christmas displays. 300 Q. That's alot of scenery, alot of stage to fill. A. Well it's mostly painting. They take stuff out of their warehouse. They have stuff that was built fifty years ago. And they bring it out and it gets changed. Q. You repaint it right there? You don't have to bring it over here? A. Both. We paint here and there. Q. Can you cite a particular landmark show you're proud of? A. Well, recently No No Nannette was a big hit. Q. So you do do Broadway work? A. We don't go out of our way for it. Q. You don't particularly care for it? A. No, because if you have a Broadway show, it consumes you completely. Everybody is paranoid about getting the job done. There's never enough time, and you go crazy. Q. You mean the pressure is greater? A. Yes. Q. Time, they want it like yesterday? A. Yes. Q. How much time do they give you? A. Well with Where's Charley? we have three weeks which wasn't enough time. Q. How much can you handle simultaneously in this shop? Can you do three shows simultaneously? A. One thing you've got to remember. A show takes up alot of floor space. Other shOps have a better setup for doing more shows than we have. You have to work with what you have. If I had two shows to do at the same time, one would have to take precedence, but we'd be building pieces for the second one until the first went out, and we could put the second one together. 301 Q. Can you illustrate for me how the producer manages to get a designer and the designer happens to come to you? A. Well there are X number of designers, but, like anything else, any producer has certain ones he favors for one reason or another. Maybe he likes the type of their work, maybe the character of that particular show he feels befits a certain designer and he tries to get the guy he feels can do the job for him. If I were a producer, I would also try to keep in mind a designer that's going to be reasonably careful with money because some designers have no concern with dollars and they design things way beyond reality. Once a show has been designed, the producer calls in a few bidders, and they bid on a show. The designer explains it to them. He's there. These sessions usually take place in the producer's office. Q. There are probably builders that designers favor? A. Oh yes, sure. That's always the case. All these personalities are involved. Q. Is that a strong factor in this business? A. Oh yes, I would think so. Again, we live in a world of people. Some peOple relaU3to peOple better than others do. So you can't divorce the world of scenery construction from the rest of the world. It's exactly the same. People have friends, and people have certain sources that they favor for one reason or another, and maybe they get better service. I know we have clients. I got a job Friday night; I did it Saturday. That's why these peOple come to me. They know no matter what happens, I'll get the job done. I'd have worked Sunday if I'd had to to get it done. So I think they're always many different factors that cause a person to go to a certain business, whatever themeay be. I feel that sincerity and service are important. Q. What are some problems that you encounter in your work? A. The biggest problem is getting business. The second biggest problem is getting competent people to produce it. The younger generation, they just want to know how much they're going to get and can they go home, and how much overtime they can get. Q. Can you project as to the reasons this is so? A. I think they just have to grow up. 302 Q. WOuld you feel that this business is not that secure, that you're always in danger of closing the doors? A. I don't worry about that because we're solid, and we're solid because we run a tight ship; we keep our eyes Open for any kind of work we can get that fits in with our pattern of operation. Other companies in the theatrical field do solely theatrical work. And some of them even restrict it to solely television or the legitimate theatre which makes it even tougher on them. The smaller your field gets, the tougher it is to find work you can do. We did the Hawaii Kai Restaurant, which was a good sized job. Well, some of our competitors in the theatrical field wouldn't be bothered with a job like that. So I don't feel worried because we will take anything we can get. Q. Is there some kind of an unspoken hierarchy which would prefer one studio over another and so on down the line? A. I don't know. Because I know that we have designer friends that favor us, mainly on the basis of a personal relationship, and I'm sure that other shops have the same situation. Are you talking about the sequence of shops? Q. Yes. A. I think everybody generally regards Feller as a number one because mainly he confines himself almost exclusively to Broadway. Q. Hart said he was number three. Do you agree? A. He probably would be, I don't know if he is, because I think Variety does as much as he does. Nolan is two. He may be three, I don't know. He could be. Q. Did you ever have any experience working with‘MacDonald's? A. Oh yes, I know Albievery well. As a matter of fact, when he was at the World's Fair, I did alot of work for him. After he gave up his business. Q. WOuld you say that this business is made up of people who know one another? A. Oh sure. Everybody knows each other in this business. 303 Q. And yet it seems that peOple work in relative autonomy. The public doesn't know who you are. The public doesn't know how scenery gets built. A. What difference does it make? It doesn't make any difference at all. Fine, you know where scenery is built, are you going to buy any? The people who should know, know. That's why they run trade shows, they want tO get as many buyers as possible. They're lucky if they get maybe 25% buyers. By excluding the public, they at least have a reasonable ratio. The automobile shows, that's not a buyers show. The public goes in and they look and if 1% Of those peOple are buyers, that's alot. Q. If these scene shOps were more appreciated, do you think you'd get more time to get out from the pressure Of time, if a producer really knew what was involved? A. NO. Because producers have to raise money. And sometimes at the eleventh hour the rug is pulled out from under them, and the money that they had promised doesn't come through. Or, for some reason or other, they can't raise the money, you know, with the economy the way it is today, it's hard to get investors. So it's just a problem that has always been with us, getting investors and getting them ahead Of time. Q. DO you ever get more time than you really need on something? A. NO, even in this series we're doing in Philadelphia, they do one show after another. Now I'm.waiting for the designs for the third one which will Open in about three to four weeks. Now I'd like to have that show now, but I don't have the plans. Q. You got the show but you don't have the plans? A. Well, I got the four all together in one package. We are reusing things where we can, to cut down costs, and doing whatever we can to save them a dollar. But I have nO plans for the third show. SO I can't move till we get the plans. Q. What happens to the scenery after the show has run? A. If a show bombs on Broadway, they usually take it right to the dumps. Nobody wants it back because it's always built specially. Oh, if you had a scrim drOp, a landscape drOp, something that would have general use, and you don't need a big truck to take it, you might take that. If there are certain mechanical parts to it like winches, or electronic equipment to Operate some machine or a turntable, that would remain yours because you wouldn't sell it in the first place. Right now, with Sherlock Holmes, we have a special piece Of mechanical equipment which they've rented for the run Of the show. 304 Q. You mentioned you rebuilt that. Wasn't that built in England? A. It came over from England, and, aside from having bad construction, it didn't conform to our fire regulations. And then they had changes they wanted made in the set. Q. They? A. The producers. It was designed in England and played in England. Q. How can the scenery be transported from England, but the actors after a year have tO be replaced by American actors? A. I think part of the answer was that it was rebuilt in an American shop. Q. That satisfied it? A. I would think so. I don't really know. If I were they, I'd say, "Look, I've Spent alot Of money rebuilding this, and this is how we did it." And I think that would be the answer. They had to rebuilt it anyway. They couldn't use it the way it was. Q. SO it was a necessity from a union contract point Of view? A. It was a necessity. I would say the unions look with more favor on it if the work is done here. I know we can't send stuff tO England. It just doesn't happen. These things are usually reciprocal, like with the actors. I don't know how reciprocal it is, but that's the way it's supposed to be. Q. Can you foresee any problem in the future with union scale, for instance? A. We have a contract with the stagehand. I happen to be a member myself as most shop owners are. And that has another two years to run. You can only charge so much for a person to get in to see a show. But union scale keeps climbing and climbing. Well, I find that that's where a good designer can make a hell Of a difference in a show. You know, in the final analysis, the shOp only builds and paints what they're given to build and paint. And if the designer goes over the script carefully, weeds down, gets it to where there's enough there but not tOO much, and then starts developing his designs there. Don't make the painting too elaborate. Some Of these designers come in with very elaborate painting, very elaborate draperies. It has to start with the producer who should control the designer. This doesn't always happen. When plans are finally released to shops, we can't say, "Well you don't need an Australkn drapery. Your don't need an ostrich plume curtain here or whatever." This is in the design, and it has to start before it gets to the shop. 305 Q. DO you have to dO alot Of drafting? A. NO. Q. DO you make working drawings after you receive designs? A. NO, I work right from their plans. That's just another cost, needless. Oh, we make simple working drawings if necessary. Q. Can you give me a quick breakdown Of how the shOp Operates? A. Well right now, we have a very small crew in the theatrical department. Right now I think I only have three men downstairs, and two scenic artists. The other men are not theatrical, you see. Other people working downstairs are doing different work. Q. SO there's a total Of five? A. Right now we have five. Q. Two scenic artists, a chargeman, and an artist? A. Right, and when work picks up, then we add more. Q. What do they do when you don't have a show? DO they work on other things? A. The TV keeps coming in on a fairly regular basis, but we can handle that with a small crew. It's very easy tO load yourself up with help. We're fortunate in keeping good peOple; our location helps us tOO. We are convenient, being in the middle Of Manhattan. Q. Do you have any difficulty with material prices, the cost Of things? A. Oh everthing's going up. Q. But that isn't the biggest problem. A. NO. Right now I think lumber is priced very good, The housing is Off; that's the reason, and plywood is down. We always stock up on plywood; whenever I get a buy. I stock up on it. I have a big rack downstairs, I have about $3,000-$4,000 worth Of plywood in the rack. But there's nothing worse than to be caught short and pay fifty cents square foot. Q. A. What kind Of wood do you use mainly? Well, we use alot Of fir and certain imported plywoods. 306 Q. These are thin? A. NO, eighth inch and also one-quarter inch. And then we buy three-quarter inch sheeting for cases. We use spruce lumber and pine limber both. For decking we use three-quarter plywood. Q. DO you use masonite on that? A. Sometimes, if they want it. Tempered masonite. Q. DO you do any promotional advertising? A. I advertise in the amusement business newspaper twice a year. See, we do some work for amusement parks tOO. And, from time to time, I take a spot ad in a certain periodical I advertise in. I do that mainly because these people are all over the country. We gO to one convention a year, in November, for the amusement field. Q. DO you dO much work yourself? A. NO, I just try to make sure everybody does what they're supposed to. Q. You feel you don't spend as much time on the floor as some Of the others I've talked to? A. NO. What are you going to do with all Of this after you got it? Oh, I'm going to publish it. Q. In working with designers, do you find that they visit you frequently or leave you alone? A. Well they have to because they want to be sure we're building it the way they want. And when the painting starts, they spend even more time because they want to be sure that the finish is in accord with what they had in mind. Q. Can you make any projections for this business? A. I couldn't because I'm not as akin to Broadway as Nolan or Feller would be. Q. But you feel there'll always be a demand for your work? A. Oh, I think there will. I think if they clean up Broadway that'll help some. 307 Q. How do you mean? A. Well, until they get rid Of these pornographic stores and theatres and everything down there, you're not going to get people tO come into the city--like my sister-in-law used tO come in once a month. They won't do it anymore. Ladies are afraid to come in alone because, you know, it's like a jungle. Q. DO you think it's possible tO clean it up? A. Well, if they don't clean it up, it's going to die, I mean that's for sure, because you cannot have an atmosphere like you have on Broadway. my wife and I went to see a show, and we got out about ten-thirty, and the OOps were chasing a couple Of guys down the street, and they finally caught them, and it was a vicious thing to see. And they weren't chasing these characters because they wanted to run after somebody. They Obviously did something. This is typical. I'm sure it's worse later at night. Stagehands will tell you stories. A friend of mine told me that at ten O'clock at night he was robbed at knife point on Thirty Six Street and 7th Ave. He had finished a show and was going out to Penn Station to gO home. They took his ring, his watch. SO I think you'll find that the pornographic atmOSphere in that area attracts a lot Of undesirable types. I think if they could have it some place else, these people would gO elsewhere. As it is now, you have them going there and it's like having luxury apartments and slums side by side. And people that are going to spend $15 for a theatre seat-- $30 for two--and then they're going to spend another $20 for dinner. They don't need that kind Of surrounding. They just won't go. Until the administration in the city wake up to the fact that they've got tO clean up Broadway.---We had one Of our men---our car was waiting outside the theatre and the superintendant was inside. Two guys jumped in and stole it. Q. Can you see any changes ahead in the tOOls you use? A. NO, I don't see any great trend. I think you use what you need for the job. If you need metal for the job, you use metal; if you need wood, you use wood. Q. Are they using less scenery? A. It depends on the show. Take Sherlock Homes. You couldn't use less scenery on that and accomplish what you're doing. 308 Q. Could you have used more? A. Well, not much more. There wasn't any more room. But then you take Where's Charley?, Circle in the Square---one set. SO it depends on the show. You can't say let's use more or less scenery. You gotta see what the script is. If the script calls for eighteen different sets, then you gotta either change the script to cut the number Of settings or have the settings. One or the other. APPENDIX B MEMBERS OF THEATRICAL CONTRACTORS ASSOCIATION 309 310 APPENDIX B MEMBERS OF THEATRICAL CONTRACTORS ASSOCIATION Atlas Scenic Studio, Ltd. 10 Wall Street Norwalk, Conn. 06854 (Leo Meyers) Design Associates, Inc. South Union Street Lambertville, N.J. 08530 (James Hamilton) Feller Scenery Studios, Inc. 381 Canal Place Bronx, N.Y. 10451 (Peter Feller) Hart Scenic Studio 3541 Dempsey Avenue Edgewater, N.J. 07120 (William Hart) Lincoln Scenic Studios 440 West 15 Street New York, N.Y. 10019 (Mario Berritto) Messmore and Damon Scenic Studios 530 West 28 Street New York, N.Y. 10001 (Franics Messmore) National Scenery Studios 6113 Hanover Avenue Springfield, Va. 22150 (Patrick Mitchell) Nolan Scenic Studios 1163 Atlantic Avenue Brooklyn, N.Y. 11216 (Charles Bender and Arnold Abramson) .Variety Scenic Studios 2519 Borden Avenue Long Island City N.Y. 11101 (Herb Lager) APPENDIX C QUESTIONS ASKED OF SCENIC BUILDERS 311 , 312 APPENDIX C QUESTIONS ASKED OF SCENIC BUILDERS How they began in the business. How their business was started. Most important shows. Best times, worst times. Trends they‘witnessed. How they get a show. Their View Of bidding sessions. Their Operational process after getting a show. How they contract. Day! and hours involved. Costs Of productions. The nature of their work‘with designers. Largest problems. Their physical plant. How much business per year. Number of shows simultaneously; Number of employees. Square feet of work area. What percentage Of Broadway shows. Amount of early business. Overhead, payroll, etc. How do they cost a show. In‘shop pecking order. On 101 relationships . What do they see in the future. APPENDIX D COPY OF CURRENT AGREEMENT BETWEEN LOCAL 829 AND THE LEAGUE OF NEW YORK THEATRES AND PRODUCERS 313 314 APPENDIX D AGREEMENT between THE LEAGUE OF NEW YORK THEATRES & PRODUCERS, INC. and UNITED SCENIC ARTISTS'DOCAL 829 Of the Brotherhood of Painters and Allied Trades, AFL-CIO EFFECTIVE July lst, 1973 until June 30th, 1976 AGREEMENT made this 7 day of August, 1974 to be effective as of the lst day Of July, 1973 by and between the League Of New YOrk Theatres and Producers, Inc. (hereinafter called the "League") by and on behalf Of its members and affiliates (hereinafter called the "Employer" and sometimes referred to herein as the "Producer or his authorized representative") and United Scenic Artists Local 829, Brotherhood Of Painters and Allied Trades Of America, AFL-CIO (hereinafter called the "Union") for and on behalf of its members now employed or hereafter to be employed by the Employer (hereinafter collectively designated as the "Employees" and sometimes referred to herein as the "Designer"). wimssss'm: WHEREAS, the Employer recognizes the Union aforesaid as the only Union representing its Employees, and agrees to deal collectively only with this Union; NOW, THEREFORE, in consideration of the mutual covenants, promises and agreements herein contained the parties D0 HEREBY AGREE AS FOLLOWS : I. RECOGNITION The Employer recognizes the Union as the only union re- presenting its Employees and agrees to deal collectively only with this Union for and on behalf of its Employees. The Employer agrees to recognize and deal with such representatives of the Union as the said Union may elect or appoint. 315 II. SCOPE AND DEFINITION OF SERVICES This Agreement applies and is limited in its application to Scenic Designers, Costume Designers and Lighting Designers, and , Assistant Designers (hereinafter collectively called "Employees" and sometimes referred to herein as the "Designer" or "Assistant"), employed by or engaged in a theatrical production produced by the Employer. The work performed by the above-named Designers may include but is not limited to: (A) Scenic Designer: (designs the production and renders the following services in connection therewith): . (1) To complete either a working model of the settings to scale or to complete color sketches or color sketch models of the settings and necessary working drawings for constructing car- penter at the reasonable discretion Of the Producer or his author- ized representative. (2) TO supply the contracting painter with color schemes or color sketches sufficient for the contracting painter. (3) To design or select or approve properties required for the production, including draperies and furniture. (4) TO design and/or supervise special scenic effects for the production, including projections. (5) To supply specifications for the constructing carpen- ter, tO supervise the building and painting Of sets and the making Of properties and, at the request Of the Producer or his autho- rized representative, discuss estimates for the same with contract- ors satisfactory to the Producer or his authorized representative, such estimates to be submitted to the Producer or his authorized respresentative at a specific time. If the Designer is required to participate in more than three estimating sessions of each class extra compensation shall be paid as provided in paragraph IV (A) hereinafter. (6) TO be present at the initial pre-Broadway set-up and Broadway set-up days and dress rehearsals; to attend the first public performance and opening out-Of-town, and the first public performance in New York and to conduct the scenic rehearsals therefor. 316 (B) Costume Designer: (designs the costumes and renders the followhng services in connection therewith): (I) To submit a costume plot of the production listing costume changes by scene for each character in the cast. (2) TO provide color sketches of all costumes designed for the production and any form of a visual representation for costumes selected for the production. (3) To supply for the contracting costume shop complete color sketches, or outline sketches with color samples attached, including drawings or necessary descriptions Of detail and its application, sufficient for the contracting costume shop. (4) To participate in not more than three estimating ses- sions‘with costume shops of the Producer or his authorized re- presentative's choice for the execution of the designs if so requested. If the designer is required to Obtain more than three estimates for the same costumes, extra compensation shall be paid as provided in paragraph IV (B) hereinafter. (5) To be responsible for the selection and coordination of all contemporary costumes worn in the production including selection from performer's personal wardrobe where such situation arises. (6) To be responsible for the supervision Of all necessary fittings and alterations of the costumes. (7) To design, select and/or approve all costume accessories such as headgear, gloves, footwear, hose, purses, jewelry, umbrellas, canes, fans, bouquets, etc. (8) To supervise and/or approve hair styling and selection Of wigs, hairpieces, mustaches and beards. (9) TO be present at the initial pre-Broadway and Broadway dress rehearsals and the first out-Ofatown and New York Openings of the production. (C) Lighting Designer: (designs the lighting for the said production and renders the following services in connection therewith): ’317 (1) To provide a full equipment list and light plot drawn to scale showing type and position Of all instruments necessary to accomplish lighting design. (2) To provide color plot and all necessary information required by contract electrician. (3) TO provide control plot showing allocation Of instru- ments for lighting control. (4) To supervise and plot special effects. (5) TO supply specifications and tO Obtain estimates for the same for the Producer or his authorized representative from contractors satisfactory to the Producer or his authorized representative, such estimates to be submitted to the Producer or his authorized representative at a specific time. If the .Designer is required to Obtain more than three estimates, extra compensation shall be paid, as provided in paragraph IV (C) hereinafter. ‘ (6) To supervise hanging and focusing of the lighting equip- ment, and the setting up of all lighting cues. (7) To be present at all pre-Broadway and Broadway set-up days and dress rehearsals; to attend the first public performance and opening out-Of-town, and the first public performance in New YOrk and to conduct the lighting rehearsals therefor. (D) Assistants: (l) Assistants to the Scenic Designer, Costume Designer .and Lighting Designer shall be engaged by the Producer or his authorized representative at the request Of the Designer subject to the approval Of the Producer or his authorized representative, which approval shall not be unreasonably‘withheld. The work of the Assistant shall be to assist the Designer in the work of the Designer as set forth above. Said Assistant's terms and conditions of employment shall be governed by this Agreement. (2) A separate agreement must be filed with and approved by the Uhion for each Assistant and required fees filed accord- ingly, including required Pension and Welfare payment. 318 III. UNION SECURITY It shall be a condition of employment that all Employees of the Employer covered by this Agreement who are members of the Union in good standing on the execution date of this Agree- ment shall remain members in good standing, and those Employees who are not members of the union on the execution date of this Agreement shall make application for membership in the Union ‘within thirty-one (31) days after the commencement of their . employment. In the event that such a person is already a member as aforesaid, or is subsequently accepted for membership, and fails to tender to the union membership dues and reasonable initiation fees, set in accordance with past practice and uniformly re- quired as a condition of membership, the Employer shall terminate his employment‘within seven (7) calendar days following the receipt of a written demand from the union requesting termination; provided, however, that the required dues and initiation fees have not been tendered prior to or during the notice period. The union agrees that it will indemnify the Employer against any damages sustained by virtue of any action taken by the Em- ployer, at the union's request, pursuant to this paragraph. IV. MINIMUM RATES Effective July 1, 1973 and each year of this Agreement there- after, employees in all design categories employed by the Employer hereunder shall be paid not less than the following rates for dramatic and musical productions and for any other type of theatrical production other than so-called concert presentations, which shall be covered separately in subparagraph F of this paragraph IV. (A) Scenic Designers: (1) 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 lst set $2,300.00 $2,400.00 $2,500.00 2nd set 745.00 775.00 810.00 3 through 6 each 580.00 600.00 630.00 each thereafter 370.00 385.00 400.00 319 (2) Unit Settings: In the case of a unit set, which is defined as "the enclosing framework for a theatrical production which shall remain on stage for the entire performance. It shall be so designed that it will be capable-dwith or without alteration-~of providing a background for all actions, locales, times and other requirements of the production. If it is altered, each alteration shall be called a phase." The following flat rates apply: 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 Unit set and up to and including six phases $4,250.00 $4,500.00 $4,750.00 7 through 12 phases 1,900.00 1,900.00 1,900.00 13 or more phases 1,850.00 1,850.00 1,850.00 (a) Phase -- is the introduction of new scenic props, pieces, projections or aspects of a unit set to indicate changes in locale or time, where such changes significantly alter the stage picture previously seen. (b) Fluid Production -- is one in which changes in a unit set, particularly changes of projections or moving scenery, shall take place continuously or frequently throughout the action, or a segment of the action and it shall not be intended that each change is to indicate a change in time or locale but rather the continuous changes themselves shall be used to establish a mood for the action of the play. Each such change shall not be con- sidered a phase. (3) Bare Stage: 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 $ 550.00 $ 575.00 $ 600.00 (4) Flat Rate: The Producer or his authorized representa- tive,and the Designer may agree upon, if they so desire, a flat rate for each show through the first paid public performance at no less than the following: 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 $8,000.00 $8,250.00 $8,500.00 (5) Once a contract has been filed, additional work re- quired above and beyond the terms of the filed contract shall be paid in accordance with the provisions of this Paragraph, except in instances of a flat fee in which event the flat fee shall prevail through the first paid public performance. 320 (B) Costume Designers: (1) Designed: 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 1 through 10 $110.00 ea. $118.00 ea. $125.00 ea. 11 through 25 83.00 ea. 86.00 ea. 90.00 ea. 26 through 50 55.00 ea. 57.00 ea. 60.00 ea. 51 plus 38.00 ea. 40.oo ea. 42.00 ea. (2) Selected: (defined as being a costume that is pur- chased, promoted, rented or chosen from the personal‘wardrobe of a performer and is used exactly as is except for normal alterations. Any alterations which entail change of style or silhouette or color shall re-classify the costume as "designed" and subject to the rates above). 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 1 through 10 $ 93.00 ea. $ 98.00 ea. $102.00 ea. 11 through 25 700.00 ea. 73.00 ea. 77.00 ea. 26 through 50 47.00 ea. 49.00 ea. $1.00 ea. 51 plus 33.00 ea. 35.00 ea. 37.00 ea. (3) In the event a production includes both Designed and Selected costumes, the costume count shall begin with the Designed costumes irrespective of the sequential count. (4) (a) In the even a Selected costume production requires Designed changes, those Designed changes shall be charged for at the rate schedule for Designed costumes commencing with the next highest Designed costume number. (b) Any single complete costume which is aucombination of Designed and Selected shall be charged at the Designed schedule rate e (c) Once a sketch has been approved by the Producer or his authorized representative for a Designed costume, no credit shall be granted should that costume change from a Designed costume to a Selected costume or be eliminated from the production. (5) Minimum.Guarantee -- the Producer or his authorized representative guarantees the Costume Designer for each show, the following minima (irrespective Of the number of Designed or Selected costumes for the first ten or less costumes): 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 $1,100.00 $1,180.00 $1,250.00 321 (6) Flat Rate -- the Producer or his authorized repre- sentative and the Designer may agree, if they so desire, upon a flat rate (including Design and/or Selected costumes) for each show through the first paid public performance at no less than the following: 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 $7,500.00 $7,750.00 $8,000.00 (7) Repeats - a repeat is an absolute duplicate of the costume whether Designed or Selected. Repeat costumes shall be deemed separate costumes and are compensable at one-half (1/2) the applicable rate, depending on whether it is a Designed or Selected repeat. (8) Costume Count -- each and every costume design for a production must bear the name of that production and a serial number, beginning‘with No. 1. After each design thus serially numbered shall have been approved by the Producer or his author- ized representative (by signature or initial of either party) such design shall thereupon be considered definitely approved. In the evert that at any time after a design so approved should be discarded by the Producer or his authorized representative for whatever reason, and a substitute design ordered by the Producer or his authorized representative, such a design auto- matically becomes a new design and consequently must bear its own new serial number, and must be approved in the same manner as hereinbefore stated; such additional serial numbers shall begin with the next consecutive number following the final number appearing in the production contract in the grand total item. The designer in such a case must be paid additional compensation for all costumes exceeding the number indicated in the grand total, at not less than the prevailing rate per costume, as set forth hereinabove. (9) Complete and Partial Costumes (a) Complete Costume -- a complete costume is defined as any garment and/or accessories which in and of themselves may be worn as a complete costume by an actor on the stage. (b) Partial Costume -- a partial costume is defined as an alternate or supplementary portion of a previously established complete costume. (c) In the event that a production requires partial costumes whether Designed or Selected, the Designer and the Producer or 322 (D) Assistants: (1) All Assistants hired pursuant to the provisions of this Agreement shall be employed at not less than the following rates per week to be paid weekly: 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 Scenery $310.00 $320.00 $325.00 Lighting 300.00 300.00 300.00 Costume 300.00 300.00 300.00 (2) If an Assistant is on the road for less than five (5) days he or she shall be paid fer each day at a rate which is prorated at one-fifth (1/5) of his weekly salary plus the per diem set forth in paragraph (VI) (P). (E) Subsequent Use of Scenery, Costumes and Lighting Designs: (1) If the original scenery, costumes or lighting is re- produced using original designs or design concepts the Producer or his authorized representative shall pay the Designer not less than one-half (1/2) of the moneys due under the original contract of said Designer, and such additional moneys shall be set forth in a supplemental agreement filed‘with and approved by the Onion. (2) Where the fee is required in subparagraph (E) (1) above and where additional work is also required of the Designer to make the scenery, costumes or lighting available for such subsequent use, a fee of not less than $125.00 per day shall be paid the Designer and the Producer or his authorized representative will agree upon the number of days required and a cash bond for such additional work will be deposited with the united Scenic Artists. (3) Original Designs Scenery, Costumes and Lighting: (a) If the original scenery, costumes or lighting is sub- sequently used by the Producer or his authorized representative without any changes, then there is no obligation to pay the Designer any additional moneys. (b) If a road compnay should require any new or changed costumes, Selected or Designed, other than those used in the original production, the Costume Designer shall be paid for each new'or changed costume, Selected or Designed, at not less than the prevailing Union rate per costume. The fee contained in paragraph (2) shall not be paid in such instances. 323 his authorized representative (together‘with the union) shall attempt to fix the payment due. In no event shall the Designer receive less than one-half (1/2) of the applicable rate schedule of the complete costume to which this partial costume applies. (10) Once a contract has been filed, additional work re- quired above and beyond the terms of the filed contract shall be paid in accordance with the provisions of this Paragraph, except in instances of a flat fee in which event the flat fee shall prevail through the first paid public performance. (C) Lighting Designers: (1) For any type Of production, the Lighting Designer shhll be paid at one-half (1/2) the minimum rate of the Scenic Designer as provided herein, but not less than: 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 $1,350.00 $1,450.00 $1,550.00 through the first paid public performance. (2) Repertory -- For basic set-up and supervision of the first production the Designer shall be paid a minimum of: 7/1/73 . 7/1/74 7/1/75 $2,000.00 $2,250.00 $2,550.00 For each additional show designed and supervised by the original Lighting Designer within the repertory set-up he shall be paid a minimum of: 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 $700.00 $800.00 $850.00 For each additional show designed and supervised by a new Lighting Designer or Designers, such new Lighting Designer(s) shall be paid a minimum of: 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 $1,350.00 $1,450.00 $1,550.00 324 (4) Should the subsequent production utilize new scenery, costumes or lighting without using the original designs or design concepts, then the Producer or his authorized representative and the Uhion agree that a new agreement‘will be entered into and filed with the union in accordance‘with the terms of this Agreement. (5) In case(s) where the Producer or his authorized re- presentative sells, leases or licenses his rights to a production to other Producer(s) or his authorized representative(s) which specify the use of the Designer's original designs, it shall be understood that the original Producer or his authorized repre- sentative shall notify the union and the Designer of such nego- tiations for sale, lease,or license, and at no time shall the use of the Designer's original designs be included in the negotiations for such productions without said notice. (6) For a bus and truck tour which takes place subsequent to the first class production where the original designs are not utilized, the minimum rate shall be one-half (1/2) of the moneys due under the original contract of the Designer but three- quarters (3/4) of the otherwise applicable contract scale where there is a new Designer. A bus and truck tour is a tour which uses bus transportation for the cast and is a series of conse- cutive engagements most of which are less than one week in duration. (F) Concert Presentations (effective July 1, 1974) (1) This subparagraph (F) shall establish the terms and conditions that shall apply to concert presentations whether mental or dramatic. It is, however, understood that certain dramatic concert presentations shall not be covered by this para- graph while others shall be. By way of example, the parties agree that the productions of Darrow (Henry Fonda), Will Rogers U.S.A. etc. should not be covered by subparagraph (F), while the Hal Holbrook production of "Mark Twain" should be covered by subparagraph (F). It is further understood that the number of persons in the concert presentation shall not be a factor in determining whether the provisions Of this subparagraph apply to the presentation. (2) This subparagraph shall apply only to concert present-f ations of five or more performances. Concert presentations of four or less performances shall not, in any way, be subject to any of the terms of this agreement, unless the Producer or his authorized representative agrees otherwise. 325 (3) No fee shall be required for draperies, unpainted scrims, bandstands or lecterns unless work therefor is actually required by a designer, in which event the fees provided in this sub- paragraph shall apply. (4) When a concert presentation is brought to Broadway, it must be established that it is a bona fide pre-existing con- cert presentation in which event no fee shall be required under this Agreement. If any additional work is required a mutually negotiated fee shall be agreed upon. However, if the concert presentation is prepared solely for the purpose of making its appearance on Broadway, or Broad- ‘way prior to a road show the provisions of this subparagraph shall apply. (5) Where work is actually required in any design category, the following minimum fees shall be paid for that category: (a) $1,250 for concert presentations in the following theatres or in new or renovated theatres of comparable size: Broadway, 46th Street, Imperial, Lunt-Fontaine, Majestic, Mark-Bellinger, Minskoff, Palace, St. James, Shubert, Uris and Winter Garden; (b) $750 -- all other theatres. (c) Pension and Welfare contributions shall be paid on all work performed. (6) The parties agree to establish a standing committee to review on an ongoing basis the operation of this subparagraph (F) e (7) In the event of a disagreement over the interpretation or application of subparagraph (F), the parties agree to submit such disagreement to expedited final and binding arbitration in the manner hereafter described. The following four arbitrators shall be appointed to hear and determine disputes arising under this subparagraph. Selection of the arbitrator shall be on a rotational basis. The arbi- trators are: Meyer Drucker, Jesse Simons, Stanley Aiges and Daniel House. Upon written notice from one party to the other the arbi- trator next in line shall be notified of an existing disagree- ment. A hearing on the matter shall be conducted within 72 hours of such written notifications and an Award, without opinion, shall be rendered within 24 hours after said hearing. An opinion may be requested by either party, but said Opinion may be rendered after the Award. In order to permit an expeditious handling of the matter, briefs shall not be filed. 326 (8) During the negotiations of this Agreement, the Union asserted that this subparagraph (F) should not apply to concert presentations that ran beyond a certain period of time. In such cases, the Union contended that the regular provisions of the Agreement should apply. In settlement of this issue, the parties agreed that concert presentations of five or more performances should be accorded the special treatment provided by this subparagraph regardless of the length of run but only until June 30, 1975. If, prior to that date, the Union advises the League in writing that it wishes to reopen the agreement solely as to this issue, the League will reopen this matter for discussion.. If the parties are unable to reach agreement on this issue, this issue alone shall be submitted to final and binding arbitration pursuant to the rules for labor arbitration of the American Arbitration Association. If the Union does not so notify the League by June 30, 1975, this subject shall remain as is for the term of the Agreement. V. INDIVIDUAL AGREEMENTS (A) An individual agreement must be signed by the Producer or his authorized representative and the Designers for Scenic Design, for Costume Design, for Lighting Design.add for Assistant Designers. (B) All individual agreements must be signed and filed in triplicate with the Uhion for approval after the Producer or his authorized agent and the Designer have executed same. THE DESIGNER SHALL REFRAIN FROM COMMENCING ANY’WORK.WHATSOEVER UNTIL SAID AGREEMENT HAS BEEN APPROVED IN WRITING BY THE UNION. NO AGREEMENT BETWEEN A DESIGNER AND THE PRODUCER OR.HIS AUTHORIZED REPRESENTATIVE SHALL BECOME BINDING OR.EFFECTIVE FOR ANY PURPOSE NOR SHALL THE DESIGNER BE BOUND OR.LIABLE THEREUNDER UNTIL THE SAID AGREEMENT HAS BEEN SO APPROVED IN WRITING BY THE UNION. This paragraph shall apply only to persons who are members of the Union at the time of the execution of the individual agreement. (C) In the event the Designer is not a member of the Union and has applied for membership therein, the union (1) will not withhold approval of the agreement on the grounds of said Designer's non-membership, (2) will approve the agreement where the provisions of this Agreement are adhered to, and (3) will be deemed to have approved the agreement unless the Producer or his authorized representative receives written notice to the contrary‘within ten (10) days after the filing thereof. 327 VI. PAYMENT (A) At the time the separate production agreement is filed ‘with the Uhion, the Producer or his authorized representative shall deposit*with the union a cash bond in an amount equal to the total amount payable to the Designer. (B) The Union will pay from the bond to the Designer his moneys, which shall become due and payable, in the following manner: (1) Not less than one-half (1/2) of the total payment on the execution and filing of the separate production agreement. (2) One-half (1/2) of the balance due when the work enters the shop or three (3) weeks prior to the first scheduled per- formance, whichever is sooner. (3) The balance shall be paid three (3) weeks subsequent to the first public performance or on the Official New York Opening, whichever occurs sooner. (C) If the opening date of the production is postponed, the payments set forth in paragraph (B) hereinabove shall be made as therein provided with the same force and effect as if the production had been carried out and opened on the originally named date so long as the Designer shall have completed the neces- sary working drawings and color sketches or plots (sets, costumes or lighting). If the Opening is postponed for four (4) weeks or more, the Designer shall perform the remaining services herein- before provided only so far as the Designer's contractual commit- ment permit. (D) In the event the production is abandoned prior to the first public performance and the Designer shall have completed the necessary working drawings and color sketches or plots (sets, costumes or lighting) the Designer shall receive three-quarters (3/4) of the origianlly agreed upon payment. (E) In the event the production is abandoned and the Designer has not completed the designs agreed upon, the Designer and the Producer or his authorized representative, shall attempt to fix the remaining payment due, but in no event shall the Designer receive less than one-half (1/2) of the originally agreed upon payment. 328 (F) The Producer or his authorized representative agrees to provide the Designer and Assistants, if any, with round trip transportation expenses on a first class air carrier or rail carrier whenever the Designer or Assistant is required by the Producer or his authorized representative to travel outside of New YOrk City in connection‘with the services hereunder. The Producer or his authorized representative further agrees to pay to the Designer and/or Assistant not less than the sum of $40.00 per day for living expenses for each and every day that the Designer and/or Assistant is required by the Producer or his authorized representative to be outside of New YOrk City in connection with the production. (G) The Producer or his authorized representative agrees to reimburse the Designer and Assistant(s), for all authorized out-of-pocket purchases made for the production, and for authorized work transportation involved in.New York and out-of—town. VII. OTHER USE OF DESIGNS (A) The Producer or his authorized representative shall not have the right to assign, lease, sell, license or otherwise use, directly or indirectly, any of the designs and/or settings, costumes or lighting for use in motion pictures, TV cassettes, television, live broadcasts, simulcast, tapes or film, film cassettes or any other use whatsoever, except as specified in this Agreement, without the prior written approval of the Designer and without negotiating with the Designer for such use a (B) Where the designs in this Agreement and/or any settings or parts of settings, costumes or parts of costumes, or lighting are used for reproduction for television broadcasting (whether live, filmed or any other process) the Producer or his authorized representative shall agree that prior to such use he will deposit in the office of the United Scenic Artists a cash bond in a sum equal to the following amounts in full consideration for such use: For any single use in any closed-circuit television or subscription television (whether by closed-circuit or air broadcast) the full amount of the Designer's fee forr those designs actually used; in commercial (free air broadcast) television, one-half (1/2) of the Designer's payment for those designs actually used. The television rights granted under this provision are limited to a single broadcast and no rights are granted beyond this initial broadcast or showing nor is any right granted herein to reproduce said television broadcast or showing by means Of kineSCOpe, film, electronic tape or other means, except 329 upon written agreement with the Designer and upon payment of the moneys for each broadcast as provided herein. If used for promotional purposes and no one connected with production is paid, then no payment shall be made to the Designer. VIII. ALTERATIONS The Producer or his authorized representative shall not alter nor permit anyone to alter or make substitutions for the settings or properties or costumes or lighting plot or lighting cues after the official New YOrk opening without the Designer's consent. IX. MINIMUM DESIGNING PERIODS Reasonable efforts will be exerted to conform to the following: The Designer shall be allowed a minimum of six (6) weeks to design dramatic productions, ballets, night clubs, floor shows, etc., and he or she shall be allowed a minimum of eight (8) weeks to design musicals, revues, operas, operettas, circuses, spectacles and/or any other type of production requiring extensive work. This designing period shall precede the minimum period required by the building and painting contractor in the case of the Scenic Designer, the costumers to execute the Designefds designs in the case of the Costume Designer, and by the electrical contractor in the case of the Lighting Designer. The Producer or his authorized representative further agrees that a finished script shall be in the hands of the Designer before the designing period shall begin. X. PERMISSIBLE FOREIGN IMPORTATIONS The League and the Employer agree that it will not cause, allow nor permit any importation of scenery or scenic designs, lighting or lighting designs, or costumes or costume designs, except for permissible imported scenery, lighting and costumes and permissible imported designs as hereinafter defined. (A) Supervisory Designers: The Employer will engage Supervisory Designers under this Agreement for all permissible imported scenery, lighting and/or costumes or designs. 330 (B) Permissible Imported Scenery, Lighting and Costumes: The following shall be deemed permissible imported scenery, lighting and costumes: (1) Where the proposed American production is in essence an extension of the foreign production in that the production coming from abroad will be brought over following its foreign run similar to a .touring attraction. (2) Where scenery or costumes imported into the United States represent original and artistic work of scenic or costume designers or artists of important cultural value and incapable of being reproduced in American scenic studios or costume shops, in which event an exemption‘will be granted to import such scenery or costumes. (3) Where the American Producer intends to produce a foreign play‘without bringing over the foreign cast of actors, director, etc. who were engaged in the foreign production, but nevertheless desires to import foreign scenery or properties and/or costumes used in foreign productions and where it can be clearly shown that the reproduction of the scenery would entail such extraordinary expenses as to render the American projected per- formance impractical from an economic standpoint. Under this exception, it should be clearly understood that a mere saving of money resulting from the use of the existing foreign scenery, properties and costumes is not alone a sufficient criterion. The determinative fact would be the extraordinary cost and expense involved in attempting to reproduce the foreign theatrical effects in this country. Factors to be taken into account are the nature of the production in terms of its commercial pos- sibilities and whether the failure to grant exemption would act as a bar to any possibility of launching an American production by a recognized producer. (4) Where the import is a permanent foreign company such as D'Oyly Carte, Kabuki or Royal Shakespeare Company. (C) Permissible Imported Designs: It is agreed that whenever a Producer or his authorized representative shall have acquired the rights to produce a foreign play, which play shall not have completed its foreign run more than two (2) years prior to the opening date of the American production, and where a Producer or his authorized representative also acquired in connection with said play the 331 original foreign-created designs, the Producer or his authorized representative may use said designs in the American production provided, however, that a Designer is engaged for supervision of said production, at not less than the minimum terms and con- ditions as set forth below. In such instances, the Producer or his authorized representative may give program and other credits in the following manner: "Designed by" and "American production supervised bY" In the event such foreign designs are implemented by changes in setting or require additional settings, such work will be charged for at the Union's regular per diem rates. (D) Procedure for Importing Scenery, Costumes, Lighting or Designs: The Producer or his authorized representative shall file with the Union not less than thirty (30) days prior to the first proposed date of shipment of such scenery, costumes, lighting and/ or designs, written notice of intention to import such scenery, costumes, lighting and/or designs. The notice of intention to import shall contain the following information: (a) The title of the theatrical production. If the foreign production had a different title than the title-selected for the American production, the notice shall also contain the for- eign titles (b) The names of all individuals, co-partnerships or cor- porations financially interested in the American production. (c) The names of all American and foreign Producers and their representatives interested in the production. (d) A statement as to whether the American production is intended for a limited or unlimited engagement and the time and place contemplated for the American showing. (e) The names of the foreign Designers and/or Scenic Artists. (f) A description of the theatrical scenery, costumes and other effects intended to be imported from abroad. (g) A statement of places where such production was presented abroad, together with Opening and closing dates. 332 (E) Rates: (1) The minimum rate for supervising of permissible ime ported scenery as hereinabove provided in paragraph x (B) shall be: . 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 $ 825.00 $ 865.00 $ 900.00 (2) The minimum rate for supervising of permissible im- ported scenic designs as hereinabove provided in paragraph X (C) shall be: 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 $1,375.00 $1,435.00 $1,500.00 (3) Lighting Design: The minimum rate for designing and supervising lighting of imported productions with permissible imported scenery and/or foreign created designs shall be as follows: (a) With useable imported foreign light plot and layout 7/1/73 7/1/74‘ 7/1/75 $ 825.00 $ 865.00 $ 900.00 (b) When a new lighting design (plot, layout, etc.) is required the production shall be deemed a new production and the work shall be charged at not less than the minimum rate for an original American production as set forth in paragraph IV (C) of this Agreement. (4) Costumes: ‘Minimum'weekly rates for supervising imported productions shall be as follows: (a) For importation of costumes in which actors other than the imported cast will appear: 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 $ 385.00 $ 400.00 $ 420.00 333 (b) For importation Of costume designs to be reproduced in the united States. 7/1/73 7/1/74 7/1/75 $ 770.00 $ 800.00 $ 850.00 as a supervision fee for up to two weeks and $125.00 per day thereafter. (F) Objections to Importations: In the Event the Union informs the Employer that it Objects to any proposed importation, a dispute shall be deemed to exist between the parties to this Agreement with respect to the right of the said producer to import said scenery and such items shall not be imported for use in any theatrical production until said dispute shall have been determined by arbitration as provided in paragraph XIII of this Agreement. The Uhion agrees that it will not raise unreasonable objections to a proposed importation and that any objection will be based on alleged violation of this Agreement. XI. BILLING The producer agrees to give the Designers billing on the theatre house boards, the theatre program and in the initial New'York City display advertisments and in other subsequent New YOrk City newspaper display ads of like content prior and sub- sequent to the New York opening. Moreover, billing shall also be given to the Designers on window cards and three (3) sheets where billing is given to any other creative participant in a pro- duction, other than the author, starring actors, directors, and star choreographers. Should the producer give billing to more than two (2) of the four (4) categories mentioned, billing must be given to the Designers in the case of musical productions. In dramatic productions the producer shall not give billing to more than two (2) of the aforesaid categories without giving billing to the Designers. The size of billing and format shall be negotiated between the producer and the Designer, except that under no circumstan- ces shall the billing be less than clearly legible in relation to the use of the medium. (The League and the Union will meet to establish acceptable and non-acceptable examples of legibi- lity). The designers' credits shall be of equal size with each other and shall be grouped together and be placed in the tra- ditional position in relation to the director or choreographer of a musical show and to the director of a dramatic show. 334 XII. TRUST FUNDS (A) The Producer or his authorized representative shall make the following contributions to the United Scenic Artists Pension and Welfare Funds: 7/1/73-6/30/74 8% of the contract fee but no more than $700 for costume and lighting designers and $750 for scenic designers. 7/1/74-6/30/75 9% of the contract fee but no more than $700 for costume and lighting designers and $750 for scenic designers. 7/1/75-6/30/76 10% of the contract fee but no more than $700 for costume and lighting designers and $750 for scenic designers. The above amounts shall be the maximum contribution by the Producer or his authorized representative on behalf of the Producer's production and shall be allocated between the Funds as directed by the Trustees thereof. (B) Said Trust Funds shall be separately and independently established under an Agreement and Declaration Of'lkust which the parties hereto shall enter into for such purpose. It is understood and agreed that such funds will be subject to all requirements of law and that the administration thereof will be by trustees, an equal number of whom shall be designated by contributing Employers' and Employees' representatives. (C) The full pension and welfare contributions for Designers and Assistants shall be due and payable to the respective Funds upon the filing of the separate production agreements and the Employer shall complete and file a statement, on a form supplied by the Fund, which shall be simultaneously delivered to the union. (D) The apportionment of the payments for the purpose of providing the benefits hereinabove set forth shall be determined by trustees designated by the Union and the Employer, acting with the advice of an expert consultant. It is a condition of the contribution hereinabove set forth that the same shall be de- ductible as a business expense by the Employer under the provisions of the Internal Revenue Code as it now exists or hereinafter be amended. 335 XIII. ADJUSTMENT 0F DISPUTES Adjustment of all complaints, disputes, controversies and grievances of any kind or nature arising between the Employer and the Union concerning the interpretation, Operation, appli- cation or performance of the terms of this Agreement, or any complaint, dispute, controversy, or grievance involving a claimed breach of any of the terms or conditions of this Agree- ment, shall be undertaken in accordance with the following procedure: (A) The matter shall first be discussed by representatives of the Employer and the Union business representatives; aggrieved Employees, if any, have the right to be present. If such dispute cannot be so adjusted by these persons, the matter shall be sub- mitted to an arbitrator. This procedure is designed to facilitate orderly handling of grievances; however, failure to follow these steps shall not be grounds for denying the right to arbitrate. (B) If the parties cannot agree on an arbitrator within three (3) days, the American Arbitration Association shall, in its own discretion, appoint an arbitrator within twenty-four (24) hours of notification to do so. The decision of the arbitrator shall be final and binding upon both parties and shall be fully enforceable. It is understood that the arbitrator shall not have the power to amend, modify, alter or subtract from this Agreement or any provision thereof. The arbitration shall be conducted in accordance with the labor arbitration rules of the American Arbitration.Association. (C) Should there be a dispute regarding a breach of contract on the part of the Designer and should arbitration proceedings be instituted, and notice thereof given to the Union prior to the payment by the Union to the Designer of any sums deposited with them as provided above, the Stock Bonding Department of the Uhited Scenic Artists, at its office in the Borough of Manhattan, New York City, shall withhold any sums unpaid at the time of receipt of such notice. However, under no circumstances may any claim be asserted against the Uhion, except for the unpaid portion of any sums deposited with the Union at the time of receipt of notice of the producer's intention to arbitrate a dispute involving a claim against the Designer for breach of contract. (D) It is agreed that time is of the essence in any arbi- tration, and both parties will exert their best efforts to obtain a speedy decision. 336 (E) The cost of the arbitration shall be shared equally by both parties or in such other manner as the arbitrator may direCt e (F) Anything to the contrary notwithstanding any party to a dispute or complaint may waive the grievance and arbitration set forth above in either of the following circumstances: (1) Whenever a violation of the provisions of Paragraph III of this Agreement shall be alleged; or (2) Whenever a violation of the provisions of Paragraph XV (F) of this Agreement shall be alleged; or (3) Whenever the provisions of Paragraph XIV are invoked. (G) Upon any waiver as provided above, such dispute or complaint shall be referred to arbitration immediately in the following manner: (1) Such diSpute, complaint or grievance shall be asserted by notice in writing and shall be delivered to the other party either by hand, registered mail or telegram. A COpy of such notice shall be sent simultaneously to the American Arbitration Association. (2) The American Arbitration Association Shall maintain a permanent panel of five arbitrators whose selection has been approved in advance by the parties to this Agreement. If the parties are unable to agree upon the selection of such arbitrators, the panel shall be appointed by the American Arbitration Associ- ation. If none of the arbitrators on such permanent panel are immediately available for such arbitration, the arbitrator, in such case, shall be appointed by the American Arbitration Association. (3) Such dispute, complaint or grievance shall be submitted to arbitration within 24 hours after receipt of notice by the American Arbitration Association and the award shall be issued not later than 48 hours after the conclusion of the hearing. (4) The award Of the arbitrator shall be in writing and may be issued with or without Opinion. If any party desires an opinion, oneshall be issued, but its issuance shall not delay compliance with and enforcement of the award. 337 (5) The failure of any party to attend the arbitration hearing as scheduled and noticed by the American Arbitration Association, shall not delay said arbitration and the arbitrator is authorized to proceed to take evidence and issue an award as though such party were present. (6) The award of the arbitrator shall be final and binding on all the parties. The cost of the arbitration shall be shared equally by the Employer and the Union. XIV. DISCHARGE (A) The Employer retains the right to discharge for just cause. In the event of a desire to discharge, the Employer shall notify the Uhion in writing in advance of such desire to discharge. (B) In the event of a disagreement between the Union and the Employer as to the discharge, it shall be submitted to ar- bitration according to the provisions of this Agreement. XV. GENERAL PROVISIONS (A) The Designer and the Producer or his authorized representative may negotiate for any additional provision or payment of moneys providing that such provisions shall in no way lessen, abrogate, or contradict any of the terms herein. Such provisions shall be placed on a Rider to this Agreement and shall be deemed a part hereof. (B) It is agreed that the obligations of the Designer and the Producer or his authorized representative are subject to delays due to strikes, accidents, acts of God, fire or other causes beyond the control of the Designer. (C) It is agreed that neither the Designer nor the Producer or his authorized representative is responsible for damages resulting through failure or inability of contractors, builders or painters to carry out the execution of the designs and plans prepared by the Designer. (D) It is agreed that the title to all drawings, designs and specifications prepared by the Designer under this Agree- ment shall at all times belong to and be the property of the Designer, who, however, may only use the same for exhibition or use other than sale for use in another production. The Producer or his authorized representative and the Designer may agree, if they so desire, to share in the proceeds of any sale of same to a gallery. 338 (E) The Designer agrees not to demand and/or accept any commissions, compensation, gift, remuneration or payment of any kind whatsoever from persons, firms or corporations employed or engaged in carrying out any work in connection with the said production, except if payable as hereinbefore provided, and such demand or acceptance shall constitute justifiable grounds for immediate discharge. (F) During the term of this Agreement, neither party nor its members shall engage in any type of strike, picketing, slow- down or lockout against the other party or its members. Any violation of this provision shall be deemed to be material breach of the entire contract. (C) It is agreed that the original Designer shall have the right of refusal for any subsequent reproduction of the compnay. The Designer shall be given a minimum of two weeks to decide. XVI. NO DISCRIMINATION The Employer shall not discriminate with regard to hiring or other conditions of employment because of race, age, sex, creed, color, national origin or union activities. XVII. THE UNION AS PARTY AT INTEREST The Union shall require its members to comply with the terms of this Agreement. The parties agree that the maintenance of a peaceable and constructive relationship between them and between the fhpdoyer and the Employees requires the establishment and cooperative use of the machinery provided for in this Agree- ment for the discussion and determination of grievances and disputes, and that it would detract from this relationship if individual Employees or groups of Employees would, either as such individuals or as groups, seek to interpret or enforce the Agreement on their own initiative or responsibility. No indi- vidual Designer may initiate any arbitration proceeding or move to confirm or vacate an award. XVIII. SAVING CLAUSE If any term, provision or condition of this Agreement is held to be unlawful, illegal or in violation of law in a final judgement, the parties will confer in an effort to agree upon suitable substitutions therefor, and if they fail to agree, the same shall be considered a grievance and submitted to arbitration in accordance with the arbitration provisions hereof. The arbi- trator in such arbitration shall be instructed by the parties hereto that it is their intention that in such event the essence and spirit of the provisions so held illegal are desired to be re- .— ..' 339 tained to the extent permitted by law. Therefore, if any of the provisions of this Agreement are adjudicated to be illegal, unlawful, or in violation Of any existing law, no other portion, provision or article of this Agreement shall be invalidated nor shall such adjudication relieve either of the parties hereto from their rights and liabilities hereunder or limit the rights or liabilities of either of the parties hereto, except insofar as the same is made unlawful, illegal or in violation of the law. XIX. SUCCESSORS & ASSIGNS This Agreement shall be binding upon the successors and assigns of the Employer. In the event that the Employer should sell, assign, transfer, or otherwise diSpose of his business, the Employer agrees to notify the Union of his intention to do so at least thirty (30) days prior to the said transfer or assignment; and the Employer further agrees not to sell, assign, or transfer such business unless and until the purchaser, assignee or transferee should first have accepted and assumed in writing all of the terms and provisions of this Agreement and shall have agreed to continue in full force and effect all existing rights and interests of the Employees. XX. RELATED EMPLOYERS This Agreement shall, with reapect to the design work now or hereafter covered hereunder, be binding on the Employer and any Principal of the Employer and shall so continue, jointly or se- verally, to be binding, notwithstanding any modification, re- organization, merger, liquidation, insolvency proceeding or bulk sales of the Employer or the withdrawal by any Principal to continue business in the covered industry as Principal with a substantial interest or salary, "Principal” means any officer or director or a substantial stockholder of a corporate Employer or a partner of a partnership Employer, or a sole proprietorship. XXI. MODIFICATION It is Specifically understood that this Agreement may not be modified without the joint consent of the Union and the Employer. XXII. NOTICE Any notice provided for in this Agreement shall be given to the Union at its headquarters, 1540 Broadway, New York City, and to the Employer at his place of business. 340 XXIII. DURATION AND RENEWAL OF AGREEMENT This Agreement shall continue in full force and effect until June 30, 1976, and shall automatically be renewed from year to year thereafter, unless notification be given in writing by either party to the other, by registered mail, at least sixty (60) days prior to the expiration of this Agreement, that changes in the Agreement is desired. APPENDIX E PHOTOGRAPHS OF SCENE BUILDERS' STUDIOS 341 342 Plate II.--Hart Scenic Studios. Top: Exterior View. Atlas Scenic Studio, Ltd. 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