I
      LET BYGONES BE BYGONES   

"Many things are not as they seem to many."

 LIGHTING in the theatre, if it is to serve its proper purpose,
must be more than merely a means of illumination. It is a
fascinating art. Its limitations are governed only by our lack of
knowledge of all its possibilities. Its structure is both
mechanical and imaginative.
 To describe the elements comprising its mechanical side is
comparatively simple; it is the imaginative side that offers the
greater difficulty. If we are too explanatory, the subject
becomes merely the expression of an opinion--something to be
avoided, since the appeal must be to the reader's imagination.
 With the advent of better appliances, stage lighting is coming
to he recognized as a necessary factor that plays an important
part in theatrical productions. David Belasco, that master of the
theatre, recognized and understood its possibilities even in the
days when the apparatus for producing effects was crude as
contrasted with that in use to-day.
 Thirty years ago there was no great choice in selecting
electrical appliances for the theatre. The devices were of the
simplest kind and few in number. In fact, stage illumination was
treated from a "light" standpoint rather than from one of
effectiveness. The same apparatus was in general use in all
theatres. David Belasco achieved better results because he gave
more time and attention to the way it was handled. With his keen
knowledge of the theatre, he understood that the old methods
would not go on serving their


FRENCH THEATRE GAS BOARD OF THE SEVENTIES
 After an illustration in M. J. Moynet's L'Envers du Theatre,
1873. It is interesting to compare the simplicity of this control
system with complexities of the modern board.

purpose forever. His experience taught him that whatever
improvement might come to the theatre must come from within,
accomplished by the men who knew and understood its requirements.
 With this idea in mind, I induced him to install, as long ago as
the days of the Republic Theatre, a shop where I could work out
the problems of lighting and apparatus which his demands on me
created, and which I could not procure from regular sources at
that time. The shop was set up in the dome of the theatre, and
there we started to develop apparatus to meet the newer
conditions which we knew were bound to come with electrical
advancement in general.
 At first our progress was slow; it is not always an easy matter
to pull an industry out of a rut. The beaten path is the easiest
to follow. But the shop proved its value in some of the later
Belasco productions.
 There was another man who made a fortune in the old melodrama
days by using lights effectively. This was Lincoln J. Carter, a
clever showman whose sole offering to the theatre was the
illusion he created by light. The methods used by Belasco and
Carter were widely different. The former used light to create
atmosphere for settings that were perfection in design and
detail. He used his accessories as a sort of reserve upon which
to draw as he needed them. The beauty of an effect meant nothing
in itself to him if it was physically and basically wrong. To
him, its value lay only in its effectiveness and truth as it
contributed to the structure in its entirety. And, while at most
times these aids were subservient, at others they became dominant
when his magic guided them to fulfillment of their mission
without making the object for which they were created crudely
apparent.
 Carter, on the other hand, depended entirely on the illusion his
effects created. His plays were the cheapest kind of claptrap,
and, in fact, were instances where the plays served as
backgrounds for the effects. Most of his scenery looked like a
bundle of rags when viewed in full light. It was transported in
trunks, and a few bundles of battens served to hold it together.
To produce his light effects he carried very little apparatus.
One box generally was sufficient to take care of all he had. But
what an amount of effectiveness he could create with it!
 For the working of his tricks even his actors were pressed into
service. I remember one of Carter's plays, "The Tornado," when it
played at Niblo's Garden. In one of the scenes in which a
transparent drop was used, the soubrette had to mount a
stepladder and work a magnesium gun to give the effect of
lightning coming through the clouds. In front of the drop the
scene represented the top of a mast with two yardarms, and
sailors were furling the sails. The mast was a batten with some
profile, or flat cut-out pieces, nailed on it; the yardarms were
two tapered battens, and some scrap canvas served for sails. On
the upper yardarm were two dummies, while on the lower were men
who were really standing on the stage. The mast was suspended
from a center line. The men on the stage, hanging over the
yardarm, gave the mast a swaying motion as they worked at furling
the sails. The entire scene was played in the illumination
provided by flashes of the magnesium gun. The whole scene
probably did not cost fifty dollars; but had it cost one hundred
times that sum it could not have been made more effective.
However, time brings changes. The wonders of yesterday cease to
be wonders when we see them too often, when we become familiar
with them. The things which will stand constant repetition are
few in number. And so the time came when this type of play passed
out. Some blamed it on the moving pictures, but it was doomed
before they came into vogue. It died because it could no longer
hold the interest of the audience. Its tricks had become stale;
constant repetition had destroyed their novelty.
 Theatre audiences demand novelty. New methods must be devised
constantly. David Belasco always has realized this; and when the
old methods began to lose their effectiveness he discarded them
with an uncanny foresight that sensed the danger before it
arrived. The theatre is not a child's game. From time to time
some new producer succeeds through a lucky chance; but how long
he stays is determined by his real ability.
 It is not so long ago that moving pictures were jogging along in
small houses known as "nickelodeons." It took a man from a small
town to come to New York and inject new life into them. When the
Strand Theatre was built just to house a movie show, the
wiseacres predicted failure; and there is no doubt that if it had
been the ordinary movie house it would have been just that. But
the man who conceived it and directed its policy had something to
sell, and he also knew the value and possibilities of light.
True, he used a larger orchestra than any one ever dreamed would
grace the pit of a movie theatre. He appealed to all the senses
through the synchronization of music, lights and scenes--the one
enhanced the value of the other.
He still uses these elements as his main attraction, but he
constantly improves them. I sometimes wonder if, in the first
days of his success, Samuel L. Rothafel (Roxy) foresaw in his
dreams the magnificent theatre which bears his name.
 I have called stage lighting an art; and to justify my use of
the word I give Whistler's definition--"To create an effect, and
disguise the means by which the effect is produced." Stage
lighting does not always measure up to this standard. Some of the
crude and clumsy attempts we see at times would hardly meet
Whistler's requirements.
 Up to a few years ago evolution of the theatre proceeded at a
slow pace. One reason for this condition was that the theatre was
not always the remunerative business it is today. Those who came
into it were drawn because it fascinated them. As the return in
dollars was small, and long summers had to be tided over, a large
percentage of those who professed the calling were constantly in
debt. It was a sort of vagabond's life; and those who had a
decent living seldom drifted into it. Of course, I am speaking of
the rule, not the exception.
 When I began to work in theatres they were beginning to install
electricity. But a great many theatres were still using gas, as
the electric light was not then dependable. Wherever the new
systems were put in the work was crudely done. Electricity was an
undeveloped science; and a person who could splice a wire or hook
two wires to a socket and get the lamp to light was looked upon
as a genius--not alone a genius, but 


HIGHEST DEVELOPMENT OF THE GAS SYSTEM
 The Welsbach burner, with its incandescent mantle, was probably
the last important step in this type of lighting. It came in the
final decade of the nineteenth century. The jets of the border
light were close together so that when the first was ignited the
flame would jump of its own accord along the entire row. The
network was to keep hanging stuff in the flies at safe distance,
as the guard rope back of the footlights was to prevent trailing
robes and dresses from catching fire. The above sketches are
essentially after drawings in Georges Moynet's La Machinerie
Theatrale: Trucs et Decors, Paris, 1893, and in Contant and
Filippi's Parallele des Principaux Theatres Modernes, Paris,
1859.

one who braved death every time he handled a wire.
 The lighting equipment in all theatres previously had consisted
of large tin border lights covered with wire mesh to protect the
hanging scenery from the flames of the gas jets. The footlight
pan was a deep trough open at the top to allow the heat from the
burners to escape. About a foot from the trough there was
stretched a brass chain supported on stanchions; and this guard
was supposed to keep the train of a gown from being swished into
the jets. I saw this chain retained in some of the old theatres
long after the gas had been discarded. I suppose it was retained
because it was considered a decoration, its original purpose
being forgotten.
 The general lighting was augmented by calcium lights. A pencil
or block of lime was heated to a white glow by means of two
gases, hydrogen and oxygen.(l) Each gas was in a separate tank,
the gas being fed to the burner by two pieces of rubber hose. The
light from these lamps was soft, and, in contrast with the other
lights, it was very brilliant. But the tanks and the lamp
occupied considerable floor space. In those days this was not a
drawback, as the stages generally were larger than those in the
theatres of the present day.

(1)Also known as the "lime" or "oxyhydrogen" light. Its practical
applications seem to date from the London experiments of Sir
Humphry Davy and his circle at the start of the nineteenth
century. Charles Babbage, inventor of the modern calculating
machine, was a member of this circle and also an intimate friend
of the actor, W. C. Macready. He proposed the use of one of these
lamps to project colored lights on the white dresses of dancers
at the Italian opera; but the plan was rejected because of the
fire risk.
 The man in charge of the illumination was called the gas man. He
was generally a plumber by trade, and worked at it in the
daytime, going to the theatre for the performances. When
electrical equipment was installed this same man became the
electrician.
Electricity was in its infancy. Sockets were made


"LIME," "CALCIUM" OR "OXYHYDROGEN" LIGHT
 The mechanism shown is an advanced form used until recent years
in stereopticon work. The old stage type permitted the adjustment
of the calcium block only by raising or lowering it on a long
screw from under the floor of the lamp. In operating this light
the hydrogen gas was turned on first and lighted. Then the oxygen
was released gradually until the "lime" became incandescent. If
the oxygen came too quickly or in too great a quantity, the light
went out with a pop.

of wood; switches and cut-outs were mounted on wood. To be an
electrician all one had to know was that it took two wires of
opposite polarities to get light, and that they had to be kept
apart. There was no inspection; and any method of wiring was
acceptable so long as light was obtained.
 For the wiring of the border lights, sockets were screwed on a
wooden batten. This batten was then slipped into the tin border
lights in front of the gas jets. The wire at that time had a tape
covering, and this was wound on the wire, not woven as it is
to-day. As an extra protection, a rubber hose was slipped over
the feeders that ran from the end of the border light to the
fly-gallery. These feeders were of the same hard wire that was
used on the rest of the job. The footlight pan was wired in the
same manner, the batten being laid in the bottom of the trough;
and, in most instances, the lamps were visible only to a person
standing on the apron. Thus, a performer who stood several feet
back was lighted only from the waist up. The trough was left in
the same condition as when gas was used. No hood was provided and
the foots threw more light into the front of the house than they
did on the stage.
 Strange as it may seem, when new theatres were built the
footlight pan was fashioned after the old gas trough. When a hood
was placed, it was generally so narrow that just about half the
lamp was concealed under it.
 Footlights are not a good medium to use as a source of light. If
they are properly built, however, they can be made to serve a
purpose. They should be designed so that they cast no light on
the proscenium arch. The hood should be deep enough to cut off
any rays which would strike the ceiling of an interior setting,
and foots should light the actors--not the setting. They should
never be used as the main source of illumination. 


ELECTRIC STAGE LIGHTING IN 1873
 After an illustration in M. J. Moynet's L'Envers du Theatre,
published in that year at Paris. A simple arc was placed in the
focus of a parabolic mirror and projected thence through a
slotted funnel against the transparent back of a drop where it
produced the effect of a rising or a setting sun, with broad
surrounding shafts of light.

Whatever light comes from them should have the appearance and
quality of reflected light. Some theatres have bright silvered
reflectors in the footlights. These are very bad as each
reflector throws a separate beam, with the consequence that, as
the players cross the stage, there are as many separate shadows
thrown on the ceiling and the back of the setting as there are
reflectors.
 In the old days there was good reason for footlights as the
front of the stage was the logical place for a candle, oil lamp
or a gas jet. Their mission then was to furnish light to see by;
and they served this purpose well. Bear in mind that the light
from the old gas footlights was soft and diffusive, quite
different from the glare the modern incandescent lamp produces.
 To make illumination effective we must paint with light. Our
apparatus must be designed in such way that we can place light
just where we want it. Light is not as easily controlled as
paint, but with the proper apparatus we can place it to a
reasonable degree, or in a way that will fulfill all practical
requirements.
 When David Belasco took over the Republic Theatre (1) he gutted
the entire interior, and I installed an electrical system that at
that time was considered the acme of perfection. This was in
1902; and to-day that system is obsolete. Nevertheless, some of
David Belasco's largest productions were produced in this house.
The stage was very small and many obstacles had to be surmounted.
Lighting was especially difficult on account of the lack of
distance which lends

 (1)This was the original Belasco Theatre. The present Belasco
Theatre was at first called the Stuyvesant. 


FROM GAS TO ELECTRICITY
 Controlling the lights on the stage of Proctor and Turner's
Theatre, New York, in the late nineteenth century. The sketch is
from an illustration in Harper's Weekly, July 27, 1889. It shows
the disappearing gas table at left, still needed for emergencies,
and the growing electrical board at right. The operator is
working the switches; the dimmers come next. This was only seven
years after Edison had opened the first central power stations in
London and New York, and only ten years after the same inventor
had demonstrated his first practical incandescent lamp.

enchantment, for the auditorium also was very small.
 When the audience sits at reasonable distance from the stage,
some crude effects can be enhanced by light and their crudities
made to appear attractive. But small, intimate theatres do not
permit us this scope in creating such illusion.
 At the time of which I speak, it was common practice for the
operators to allow their lamps to hiss and flicker. In most
theatres it was looked upon as something that could not be
avoided.
But there was a better day coming.
 David Belasco always devoted a great deal of time to light
rehearsals, although most producers still consider one or two
such rehearsals sufficient during the production of a new play.
Light rehearsals at the old Belasco Theatre generally lasted a
week, with two weeks on the road; then two dress rehearsals with
full lighting before the play opened in New York. When "The Rose
of the Rancho" was sent to Boston prior to the New York opening,
twenty operators were taken along to receive the experience of
this extra training.
 During a rehearsal, if an operator allowed his lamp to hiss or
flicker, Belasco would stop everything and ask the operator if
there was anything wrong with the lamp mechanism. The answer was
generally "No," and the operator would invent some excuse. But in
time this system had its psychological effect. The operator found
it was easier to give his lamp better attention than to keep on
inventing excuses. This all took time and patience; but the
results obtained were worth the effort.
 To obtain good results the men must be trained. It is just as
necessary to coach the men who work the mechanical effects as it
is to rehearse the actors. It is far better to do things in a
simple way and do them well than to attempt to do them
spontaneously in an elaborate manner and make a bungling job of
it.
 Our apparatus for this play was the standard type that was in
common use. The largest incandescent lamp obtainable was rated at
thirty-two candle power. It was a carbon filament bulb that
emitted a great amount of heat and was not good for coloring
because the heat made the color fade very rapidly. For the border
lights we used a sixteen candle power lamp. This smaller lamp
held the color very well.
 For lens work we used the "arc"; and where a bright, diffusive
light was needed we used the olivette or open box. These "hoods"
also housed arc lamps. The arc was not a good medium for stage
illumination, but it was the strongest light to be had at the
time. For one thing, the light source could not be placed where
it would give the best results, for the arc had to be fed by an
operator. The lamps were therefore set in the wings at the sides
of the stage, either on the stage floor or on bridges. On small
stages the space between the wings was generally narrow, adding
to the difficulty of setting the lamp in a good position. As the
arc light was a concentrated light, it cast sharp shadows which
generally gave advance information to the audience that a player
was about to enter.
The arc lamp was used in Europe for some years before it was
adopted in America. Henderson,(l) a producer from Chicago, was
one of the first to light his extravaganzas with them. The lamps
were made by his electrician, and they were known as the Kruger
lamp after him. Almost everybody said they were a failure. Scenic
artists asserted that the light was too harsh, that it ruined
their color values; and they insisted on the use of the calcium
lamp. But the producers saw it in a different way. Gas was
expensive and it cost money to carry the cylinders about and to
express them back to be refilled. This new arc lamp cost next to
nothing to maintain; the first cost was virtually the last,
except for a few slight repairs now and then. The cost of current
was small when compared with the price of the gas; and so the
electric arc lamp came into the theatre and the calcium light
went out.
 For a diffusing medium for the olivette we used either frost
gelatine or colored silk; and these media spread the light and
softened it. But they also cut down the candle power to such an
extent that they were useless where a strong illumination was
required. David Belasco used these silks in a scene of "Madame
Butterfly," the set being the interior of a Japanese house,
where, at the back of the room, were the shoji windows. In
Japanese houses these windows are made of paper. The

 (1)David Henderson, founder of the Chicago Herald, dramatic
critic of the Chicago Tribune, managing editor of the Chicago
Daily News, founder and promoter of the Chicago Opera House, one
of the first fireproof, steel-constructed, electrically lighted
theatres in America, was, at the close of the past century, one
of the best-known operatic producers in the United States. 

stage windows were made of tracing cloth, a semitransparent
linen.
 During the action of this one-act play an interval of twelve
hours was supposed to elapse. Cho Cho San was seated at the
closed window through which she watched for the approach of her
American lover, Lieu-


SILK MEDIUM USED IN "MADAME BUTTERFLY"
 A simple contrivance consisting of a band of silk mounted on a
frame that slides into a holder on the front of the lamp housing,
and moved upward or downward past the light on rollers. The
angular dividing line between the two colors makes a gradual
blend as they merge in or out of the field.

tenant Pinkerton, whom she expected because she had seen an
American battleship drop anchor in the harbor. She began her
vigil in the early evening, and it lasted throughout the night
and into the following morning. The interval of time was denoted
by the changing light that was projected on the windows through
the medium of these aforementioned colored silks.
 The several colors of silk were in long strips. These strips
were attached to tin rollers; the rollers were set into bearings
fastened to a wooden frame that slid into the color groove of the
lamp. The turning of the rollers passed the colors in front of
the light and they were projected on the windows in a series of
soft blends. As the orange deepened into blue, floor lanterns
were brought on the scene and lighted; as the pink of the morning
light was seen the lanterns flickered out one by one. The light
changes were accompanied by special music. Music and lights were
perfectly timed and the entire change consumed less than three
minutes. By the manipulation of lights and music David Belasco
made it convincing to an audience that a period of twelve hours
had passed. This play was produced in 1900.
 Recently I heard that a patent had been granted to a person
claiming to have discovered that given colors in combination with
certain musical sounds have emotional values. This is not the
exact wording; the patent covers several typewritten pages, and
now and then the meaning is confused. I have read the paper; and
the general idea on which the patent is based is as I have stated
it. The patent involves nothing tangible; it has been granted on
a theory. But there is no doubt that the premise upon which it is
based is correct, as David Belasco has been using the idea,
applying it in actual practice, and obtaining results with it
over a period of many years.
 So many improvements have been made in incandescent lamps and
electrical apparatus in general, that when we look back we
realize what crude and clumsy contraptions the old arc lamps
really were, especially because we had to use them for so many
purposes. We did the greater part of the lighting with them. At
times we even used them from overhead bridges; but these bridges
were not always practical, as the amount of space they took in a
large production interfered with the hanging scenery.
 It took some time to light any sort of a scene; but detail work
consumed the major portion of it; and hours would slip by while
we experimented on some effect that appeared simple enough after
we had perfected it. Mr. Belasco would generally begin before
bringing the players on the stage by getting the scene lighted.
The lights were graduated and balanced so the setting had the
proper effect for the time of the action. If the scene was
illuminated so that it had the proper atmosphere, it was
generally found, when the players were brought on the stage, that
their faces were too dark.
 The procedure of most directors in such case was to raise the
foots until the actors' eyeballs could be seen from the last row
of the orchestra seats. Thus they had strong high lights on
everything in the foreground. This form of lighting could not
even be called a compromise; from an efficiency standpoint it was
just a makeshift.
 To keep the actor in light and still preserve the atmosphere we
used arc lens lamps. Special mica slides were made up, each slide
using from four to six pieces. These sheets were rubbed with
emery and oil till they looked like ground glass. In the center
of each sheet a clear space was left, the size of the space
varying on each sheet. On the first sheet the clear space was
about the diameter of a dime; the diameter was increased on each
until the clear opening on the last sheet was the size of a
quarter. When finished, all were bound together and held at the
edges with a tin binding. The several sheets of frosting left the
outer surface practically opaque with a graduated, irislike
opening in the center.
 Intensity of the light was varied by placing the top carbon
either in front of the lower one or back of it, according to the
degree of light we wanted. When we wished to bring the
illumination on or off gradually, we used another slide also
composed of several sheets of mica. In this case the sheets were
lapped over each other, each succeeding one being about a quarter
of an inch back of the other. A narrow V was cut out of the
center; and this acted as a dissolver. But even with these slides
a great deal depended on the skill of the operator in bringing
the light on smoothly, especially if the stage was dark, for then
his light became the center of attention.
 To create suitable vantage points for the arc lamps when an
interior setting was used was a problem. The setting was boxed
in--the only space available being in the first entrance between
the tormentor drapery and the return of the scene. Nevertheless,
we generally managed to get two lamps on each side, one on the
stage floor, the other on a parallel.(l) These four lamps were
always inadequate to provide the number of light sources that Mr.
Belasco wanted. At the same time he knew as well as I did that
four lamps were the limit that could be crowded into the
available space. Despite that, when all the lamps were used he
would call for a lamp on a player who he thought was too much in
shadow and required a touch of light. When I would tell him that
all the available lights were in use he would try to convince me
that a failure on my part to produce the desired extra one from
somewhere meant failure for the play. He would even threaten to
stop the rehearsal if he did not get what he wanted. He was
serious about these needs; and he made his arguments convincing.
David Belasco did not really believe that an effect could make or
break a play; but he knew the value of small details. He would
spend hours obtaining some seemingly infinitesimal result on
which other producers would not waste five minutes.
 The difficult problems, provided they have sound purposes,
generally are those whose solutions will have the greatest
practical value. If the work is put in just as padding you will
have to be clever indeed to keep the audience continuously
interested. It is an easy matter to fool an audience if you know
how; but if your methods are bad you merely insult its
intelligence, and you have gained nothing. Lighting, to be
effective, must present a series of contrasts. In some instances
these contrasts may be broad and startling, while at

 (1)A parallel, or "pair of parallels," is the ordinary
collapsible stage platform.

other times they must be provided subtly, depending on the type
of play treated, and its relations to mood and character of the
scene. These contrasts must be governed by a theatrical sense
which is the indefinable factor.
 If stage lighting were purely a problem that could be worked out
by mechanical or scientific knowledge of color and light,
perfection would be comparatively simple to attain. It is only by
actual experience that this is brought home to us. The newcomer
in the theatre always believes that he has a system that will
revolutionize stage lighting. There was the electrical equipment
installed in the New Theatre. From an engineering standpoint it
was a masterpiece of ingenious invention, a thing that made the
layman stare in wonderment at its intricate mechanism and beauty
of electrical workmanship. But as a piece of theatrical equipment
it was a failure; and later it was replaced by a switchboard that
was simple in operation and more nearly suited to the purpose.
 The theatre cannot be treated or used as a side line, It is a
serious business. If we want to obtain worthwhile results it must
be taken that way. And it will require about all the energy that
the average person is capable of giving to obtain even ordinarily
creditable results.