I acquired this painting as part of a lot of five works. I admired its vibrant elegance when I saw it, but it didn’t fit my collection. I let it go, and later discovered how significant it truly was.
“Le monsieur Nast très sophistiqué et penseur” — To Mr. Nast, a very sophisticated and thoughtful man.
I misread the inscription, thinking it said something closer to Le monsieur naît (born). My impatience with getting an accurate translation meant I missed the key clue. Only when I stumbled on an image of this piece in my photos did I revisit and solve the puzzle — a bittersweet reminder that sometimes it pays to slow down in art research.
Provenance suggests it passed directly from Benito to Nast, and later through the venerable New York gallery M. Knoedler & Co., long before Knoedler’s controversies. The elegant woman depicted may be Natica Nast, Condé’s daughter, who was often portrayed in fashionable hats.
The composition is pure Art Deco glamour: a graceful woman in a gown, clasping her clutch under her arm, her face softly abstracted, framed by lush blossoms of red, pink, and yellow. Her red lips draw the eye, balanced by the upright figure of a man in formal evening attire behind her, hands on his hips, exuding confidence. The brushwork is loose yet deliberate, with bold swaths of color — crimson, canary yellow, moss green, deep navy — set against areas of untouched white. It’s signed E. G. Benito in the lower left, along with the inscription to Nast. The mood is equal parts sophistication and flirtation, the hallmark of Benito’s fashion illustration sensibility.
I rarely look back on pieces I’ve let go. But letting this painting go might nag at me. It wasn’t just a beautiful work but a tangible link between two giants of 20th-century culture.
If there’s a lesson here, it’s take your time, dig deeper, and never underestimate what a closer look might reveal. And sometimes you might want to add a zero to the price…
AboutEdouard Garcia Benito
Edouard Garcia Benito (1891–1981) was born in Valladolid, Spain, and trained at the School of Fine Arts in Valladolid and San Fernando in Madrid before moving to Paris in 1912. Immersed in the city’s avant-garde, he befriended artists like Modigliani and Dufy and began creating fashion illustrations for elite publications such as La Gazette du Bon Ton.
His big break came in the early 1920s when couturier Paul Poiret introduced him to Condé Nast. Benito went on to produce nearly 100 covers for Vogue and Vanity Fair, defining the magazines’ Art Deco aesthetic with his bold geometric forms, elongated figures, and sophisticated minimalism. He alternated between painting society portraits and creating witty, stylish illustrations, leaving a lasting imprint on both fashion and fine art.
Condé Montrose Nast (1873–1942) transformed magazine publishing in the early 20th century. Acquiring Vogue in 1909 and launching Vanity Fair soon after, he targeted the cultural elite with a mix of high fashion, society reportage, and cutting-edge design. Nast had a keen eye for visual talent, employing some of the era’s most important illustrators and photographers, including Benito, George Lepape, and Edward Steichen. His publications became cultural barometers, shaping taste and style for generations.
In my home growing up there was a large framed Sutton Galleries poster of Charles Bragg’s The Asylum. It was larger than life, way beyond comprehension for my adolescent mind. It frightened and perplexed me, but I couldn’t help but stare at it, knowing something was going horribly wrong.
As a distraction from everyday activities, I recently decided to research this piece, only to once again become perplexed. I discovered that books, exhibition brochures, and websites showed two different paintings of the same name. It’s not unheard of for an artist to use the same title when painting copies of their own pieces, but these were similar yet very different scenes.
I decided to go down the rabbit hole and sure enough, Bragg did in fact paint two Asylums: one oil on paper (16 x 34 inches), and another oil on board (30 x 40 inches)—the piece I grew up mesmerized by.
These two distinct and compelling versions masterfully depict the artist’s satirical yet disturbing view of American society’s madness. Below is a brief exploration and comparison of these iconic paintings, shedding light on their profound symbolism and thematic evolution.
Brief Introduction to Charles Bragg
Charles Bragg (1931–2017) was an American artist renowned for his deeply satirical and often cynical depictions of humanity. Described as the modern-day Hieronymus Bosch, his work is a social commentary and critiques the follies of politics, religion, war, and societal norms. The year 1968 was a period of immense global turmoil—marked by the Vietnam War, political assassinations, and widespread civil unrest. Bragg’s two Asylum paintings from this year serve as powerful allegories for a world he saw as having descended into madness, with the lunatics running the institution. Though they share a title and a theme, these two works offer distinct, complementary visions of this societal asylum.
1. The Asylum (1968, Oil on Paper, 16″ x 34″)
Charles Bragg, The Asylum, 1968, oil on paper, 16 x 34 in. Collection of NSU Art Museum Fort Lauderdale, Gift of D. Robert Silber. Image source.
Overview
This horizontally oriented painting offers a chaotic, almost carnivalesque representation of societal breakdown. The palette is vibrant yet unsettling, dominated by surreal colors ranging from muted blues and reds to earthy tones and grayish hues. It possesses a satirical wit that underscores its commentary on madness, war, and institutional corruption.
Central Imagery
At the heart is a figure resembling a king or tyrant, absurdly enthroned atop an enormous skull, draped in striped pants, and wielding symbols of mock authority. His absurd attire and comically fierce expression heighten the ridicule of oppressive authority figures. The giant skull symbolizes death underpinning authority, hinting at the destructive nature of unchecked power.
Key Symbolic Elements
Central Throne (Giant Skull): Represents authority built upon death and violence.
Tyrannical Figure (King): Satirical embodiment of oppressive, authoritarian madness. His striped pants and self-important posture heighten the mockery.
Mechanized madness (Smokestacks): Symbols of man-made destruction, pollution, and societal corruption.
Populace and War (Cannon): A massive cannon is aimed not at a foreign enemy, but at a huddled mass of pale, ghoulish figures—the common people, who are the ultimate victims.
Blind Obedience (Animal-Human Hybrids): Figures illustrating blind conformity and loss of individual identity.
Institutional corruption (Dilapidated Cathedral): Symbolizes the decay of faith and civilization.
Detritus (American self-deprecation): Skulls, bones, and grotesque creatures like a star wearing lizard battling an obese counterpart—a critique of Americans.
Interpretation Though unsettling, the painting maintains a darkly comic undertone. It critiques institutional madness, war, hypocrisy, and authoritarian absurdity, using humor and grotesquerie to expose the folly behind power structures and societal collapse.
Exhibition Catalogue
Taylor, Geoffrey. “The Asylum. 1968 oil, 16 x 34″.” The Absurd World of Charles Bragg. New York: H. N. Abrams, 1980, pp. 2-3.
Taylor, Geoffrey. “The Asylum. 1968 oil, 16 x 34″.” The Absurd World of Charles Bragg. Rev. ed. New York: H. N. Abrams, 1991, pp. 2-3.
Bisbort, Alan. “Asylum, 1968.” Charles Bragg: The Works! A Retrospective. Foreword by Richard B. Stolley. Pomegranate, 1999, pp. 60-61.
Charles Bragg, The Asylum, 1968, oil on board, 30 x 40 in. Private Collection
Overview
This large magnum opus is far darker, heavier, and psychologically intense. Its vertically oriented format enhances a claustrophobic, oppressive mood. Dominated by deep reds, browns, and shadowy blacks, it suggests a scene unfolding in the deepest corners of the human psyche or a symbolic Hell itself.
Central Imagery
A grotesque, infantile figure dressed in extravagant papal attire sits imposingly at the center of the composition, suggesting a perverse blending of childlike innocence and sinister authority. His blank yet unsettling expression evokes the chilling nature of corrupted innocence and blind tyranny. He reigns over a macabre earth littered with bones, skulls, and cracked eggs—symbols of decay, moral rot, and wasted potential.
Key Symbolic Elements
Central Figure (Infantile Pope): Grotesquely obese, robed in red and pink, and surrounded by a golden halo—a parody of divine authority and the cult of personality.
Root Throne: The pope appears to be riding on a tree root, suggesting the figure is being supported by or pulled into hell.
Volcanic Crater: A rupture in the landscape, perhaps nature’s response to human madness—a fiery womb of destruction.
Masked Clergy and Executioners: Represent institutional complicity and moral decay.
Banners with Distorted Religious Symbols: Highlight institutional hypocrisy and corrupted spirituality.
Graveyard Imagery: Tombstones, crosses, and skulls form the literal and symbolic ground of the painting.
Cherubs and Death Figures: Mixes Christian and occult symbols into a fevered vision of apocalypse.
Interpretation This painting abandons the lighter comedic elements seen in the other piece and fully immerses the viewer in a sinister vision. It suggests Bragg’s most intense reflections on madness: institutionalized, oppressive, and all-consuming. If the smaller painting mocks society, this larger masterwork condemns it, creating an intense feeling of unease, confrontation, and indictment.
Exhibition Catalog
“Asylum 30 x 40” Charles Bragg. Exhibition brochure. New York: ACA Galleries, c. 1974-75, p. 5.
Taylor, Geoffrey. “The Asylum. 1968 oil, 30 x 40″.” The Absurd World of Charles Bragg. New York: H. N. Abrams, 1980, pp. 86-87.
Taylor, Geoffrey. “Madness in Progress (The Asylum).” The Absurd World of Charles Bragg. Rev. ed. New York: H. N. Abrams, 1980, pp. 30.
Taylor, Geoffrey. “The Asylum. 1968 oil, 30 x 40″.” The Absurd World of Charles Bragg. Rev. ed. New York: H. N. Abrams, 1991, pp. 86-87.
Comparative Analysis:
Attribute
“The Asylum” (Oil on Paper)
“The Asylum” (Oil on Board)
Size
16″ x 34″ (horizontal)
30″ x 40″ (vertical)
Palette
Bright, surreal, satirical
Dark, oppressive, apocalyptic
Central Figure
Comically authoritarian, absurd, seated on skull throne
Infantile pope-like figure, chilling, sinister
Symbolism
War, absurdity, satirical chaos
Moral corruption, death, spiritual collapse
Tone
Darkly humorous critique
Deep psychological indictment
Overall Impact
Social satire, absurdity
Profound, disturbing, unsettling
Bragg’s evolution from mocking satire to apocalyptic vision emphasizes the profound shift from viewing madness as a human folly to recognizing it as an existential threat.
Together, these two masterpieces from 1968 create a powerful and comprehensive vision of a world that has lost its reason—a societal Asylum depicted with Charles Bragg’s signature wit and brutal honesty. If this is what Bragg was painting in response to the world of 1968, one can only imagine—perhaps dread—what he might paint today.
William Henry Drake: From Lions to Lava, A Life in Art
William Henry Drake (1856-1926) was a renowned American artist who captured the majesty and power of animals and landscapes in his paintings. Though born in New York City, Drake considered Cincinnati his home, having moved there at a young age. His artistic passion emerged early, leading him to study at the McMicken School of Design. His fascination with animals, particularly lions, began to take shape there.
Artistic Journey Begins
Drake’s artistic journey took him back to New York in 1882. He spent countless hours sketching at the zoological gardens in Central Park and the Bronx, meticulously observing the creatures’ anatomy and habits. However, he quickly discovered the market for animal-themed works was limited. He continued to hone his skills with general illustration for several years before embarking on a transformative trip.
In 1887 and 1889, he studied at the prestigious Julian Academy in Paris, further refining his technique. He also took this opportunity to travel through Europe, enriching his artistic perspective.
A true adventurer, Drake undertook a 10,000-mile expedition to Alaska in 1893, gathering inspiration for his art amidst the rugged wilderness. This spirit of exploration continued with a sketching trip to the Catalina Islands to study seals.
Jungle Book Commission
A defining moment in Drake’s career came with the illustration of Rudyard Kipling’s “Jungle Book.” This project allowed him to fully embrace his love for depicting the animal kingdom. Following this success, Drake transitioned from illustration to focus on painting. His canvases, featuring creatures from wild habitats, garnered significant public appreciation and critical acclaim.
Drake’s artistic achievements were recognized through numerous awards and exhibitions. He received honors at the Paris Exposition, the Salmagundi Club, and the American Watercolor Society. Paintings like “The First Born” and “The Royal Family” solidified his reputation as a master of animal portraiture.
Beyond Lions
He also proved to be a highly diversified artist, having painted landscapes during his travels. One such painting is a 1913 work of a Hawaii volcano. This painting is believed to have been executed during a round-the-world trip from New York to Madeira to the Catalina islands, including a stop in Honolulu. This global adventure demonstrated Drake’s artistic curiosity and willingness to explore subjects beyond the animal kingdom. One hundred and twenty-five of these watercolors were exhibited in April 1915 in New York under the title “Around The World.”
Associations
Drake was a member of prestigious art organizations, including the New York Art League, American Watercolor Society, New York Watercolor Society, Salmagundi Club, and the Artists’ Fund Society.
A Tragic End
We might speculate Drake had been suffering from some type of debilitating disease. Although a note was left for his niece at the time, we do not know what words it contained. On January 23rd, 1926, at the age of 70, William Henry Drake locked himself inside his studio’s closet. He took with him a container of illuminating gas, the highly toxic fuel used in lamps at the time, which tragically ended his life by asphyxiation.
From Lions to Lava, William Henry Drake’s legacy as an artist who breathed life and majesty into creatures and landscapes endures through his paintings.
There’s a special thrill in uncovering the forgotten corners of art history, finding those fascinating movements that never quite made it into the mainstream narrative. Suridealism is one such discovery – a compelling, albeit lesser-known, artistic and literary current from the early 20th century that shares some DNA with its famous cousin, Surrealism, yet fiercely maintained its own distinct identity and contested origins.
The term “Suridealism” was first coined by Emile Malespine (1892 – 1952) in 1925. He introduced the concept in the seventh issue of the magazine Manometre with his “Manifesto Du Suridealisme.” In this manifesto, Malespine articulated a core principle of Suridealism, stating, “Idea, ideal: Suridealism is both of these things at the same time; the idea is mixed with the word and becomes an image.” He also sought to bridge the gap between the conscious and unconscious mind: “conscious and unconscious: these two terms must be identified in a higher idealized term. Suridealism will therefore be, in its most general expression, a consciousness awakened by unconsciousness, and this consciousness, in turn, modifies the subconsciousness.” [i]
Malespine’s manifesto included a lengthy list of artists he considered Suridealists, featuring a diverse group including Hans Arp, Marcel Arland, Victor Brauner, J. L. Borges, Robert Delaunay, Tristan Tzara, and many others who were also associated with various avant-garde movements of the time, including Surrealism, Dadaism, and Futurism.
Adding another layer to the story, the term Suridealism was also adopted by the novelist Maryse Choisy in 1927 to describe a distinct literary movement. [ii] Choisy’s Suridealism had a clear feminist agenda, aiming to counter the male dominance prevalent in the contemporary Surrealist movement and to innovate within the genre of fiction writing.
Choisy initially claimed to be the originator of the term, a claim strongly refuted by Malespine. In his July 1928 article “Proteste” published in Der Sturm, Malespine vigorously defended his priority in coining and defining Suridealism. [iii] His tone was notably stern, criticizing certain Parisian artists whom he felt acted with an air of superiority, even to the point of trying to claim a term that was already in use. Malespine recounts that Choisy invited him to join her movement, which he publicly declined, having already established his own.
In describing her vision of Suridealism, Choisy emphasized the role of women and youth. She wrote, “Women are often criticized for being conservative, for being incapable of creating or even following the avant-garde movements. It is up to a few creative women painters and talented musicians to prove otherwise. A Suridealist group of under 30s has just been founded, which has gathered the most important names among the rising generation.”
Choisy further articulated her movement’s philosophy: “Our century is the century of youth. But it is also the century of women. The purely masculine civilization is a failure. It is up to the woman to set the tone, which does not mean that we exclude the man from our songs or from our meetings. We are more generous, more inclusive. There are men in our group and even in our committee. But the crusade of Suridealism is led by women.” She concluded with a focus on emotion over pure intellect: “Pure intelligence has gone bankrupt. Help will come from the heart. Not from a heavy heart or a heart lush from the senses, but from a heart bursting from emptiness. A Suridealist heart. In the heart vs. intelligence match. Suridealism cheers for the heart.”
Beyond Malespine and Choisy, the term appeared occasionally in other contexts. In the French publication Tambour (1929-1930), author Richard Thoma mentioned Suridealists alongside other major art schools like Surrealists, Cubists, and Futurists, suggesting it was recognized, at least in certain circles, as a distinct category of artistic expression. [iv]
Interestingly, the term popped up in American media in the late 1930s. The New York Times first used it on April 25th, 1937, labelling artist Frank Marvin Blasingame a “suridealist.” [v] Blasingame appears to be the only American painter given this specific moniker, and it’s possible this usage was independent of or unaware of its earlier French origins. The term was used again the following year, on July 17th, 1938, in the Asbury Park Press, describing Blasingame’s “ultra-modern” work and referencing the earlier Times article. [vi] Donald Bear, then Director of the Denver Art Museum, commented on Blasingame’s paintings in the same article, noting their “great power of spirit” and viewing them not as ordinary pictures but as “provocative symbols that call up states of imaginative tension.”
More recently, in 2018, Suridealism was revisited by Antonello Morsillo in his exhibition and accompanying book, Il Suridealismo nell’arte (Suridealism in Art). Celeste Network described Morsillo’s book as “a small treatise on philosophical aesthetics, is completely pervaded by the perception of considering art as an ethical urgency.” [vii]
While never achieving the widespread recognition of Surrealism, the history of Suridealism, with its complex origins tied to both Malespine’s broad artistic vision and Choisy’s specific feminist literary aims, along with its sporadic appearances in art criticism, offers a fascinating glimpse into the dynamic and often overlapping avant-garde landscape of the early 20th century and beyond.
References:
[i] “Suridéaliste manifesto” Manometer no. 7, February 1925.
[ii] “Manifeste Suridealiste” Les Nouvelles littéraires1 22nd October, 1927.
[iii] “Proteste” Der Strum, July 1928 page 241. Available at: https://magazines.iaddb.org/issue/DSTURM/1928-07-01/edition/19-4/page/1
[iv] “Alstair” Tambour No. 7. 1930. In: Salemson, Harold J. Tambour. United Kingdom, University of Wisconsin Press, 2002.
[v] “FIVE NEW GROUP SHOWS” New York Times, 25th April, 1937 page 172.
In late July 1979, those fighting to preserve the Art Deco landmark known as the Waikiki Theatre lost their final battle to save its soul. The developers wasted no time in starting the first phase of the theater’s destruction. This terrible act merited just one sentence in the August 2, 1979, issue of the Honolulu Advertiser, saying the old Waikiki Theatre had undergone “partial dematerialization.”
The lobby walls lay in ruins. Lying in pieces amongst the rubble was, for many in Hawaii, a work of art as significant as Diego Rivera’s Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in Alameda Central Park. The art was Hawaii’s first frescoes, and they were painted by Marguerite Blasingame, a friend of Diego Rivera. Discussed later is the herculean effort used to preserve Rivera’s work. Blasingame’s wasn’t even honored with a photograph, and the reason for the destruction would make any that appreciate art disgusted.
The Start Of It All; More Restrictions Please
Let’s step back to the beginning. The initial brainstorming for the Waikiki Theatre began as early as 1930. It would take five years until they broke ground. In between lay many battles with Honolulu planners and regulators. That the theater was built at all is mainly due to one man in particular.
In June 1933, Consolidated Amusement Co., Ltd. representative Esmond I. Parker was about to earn himself a big promotion. He was in front of the Honolulu Public Works Board of Supervisors, making an impassioned case about building code restrictions for new buildings in downtown Honolulu. He wasn’t fighting against the restrictions. Quite the opposite, he wanted them retained. He argued that any relaxation of the rules would create unfair competition for those who had already constructed expensive Class A buildings in the area.
Consolidated Amusement owned twelve of the largest and most expensive theaters on the islands, more than any other company.[i] In his argument, Parker mentioned that Consolidated was contemplating a 1,000-seat, fireproof theater in Waikiki.[ii] This was the first mention on record of what would become Honolulu’s most well-loved landmark.
The following year, Parker became president and managing director, and the zoning battle began.
Land and Parking Battles
Construction of the Waikiki Theatre remained uncertain well into the spring of 1934. Consolidated sought to increase zoning on Kalakaua Avenue to accommodate the large theater. The company pitched grand and lavish ideas to the city planning committee, including a garden and architectural design that would harmonize with the natural surroundings of the Waikiki district. Not surprisingly, there was pushback from the local community.
Nearby landowners and tenants of residential complexes on Seaside Avenue filed protests against the planned theater anticipating the noise and activity it would bring. In May 1934, there were news articles almost daily discussing the concerns of those living in the area. But for the majority of Waikiki residents, there was a growing sense of excitement. The fact that Consolidated Amusement was considering such a large and costly undertaking was a positive sign. Moreover, it indicated the Great Depression was ending and a positive economic future for Hawaii.
Meanwhile, Parker and Consolidated were also lobbying against an amendment that would classify “amusement houses” with under 300 seats as theaters. Those in favor of the amendment accused the company of trying to retain its monopoly on the moving picture market. Consolidated claimed their concerns were about public safety. These smaller theaters, dubbed “midget theaters” by the press, would not be required to be fireproof. However, this argument didn’t hold much weight since many theaters in the United States had less than 300 seats.
In June 1934, the theater classification fight was still ongoing, but Consolidated received some good news. City planners advised they would approve the company’s increased zoning request if they agreed to provide at least 200 parking spaces.
The parking lot would be located behind the theater on land leased from Union Oil Company, which agreed to offer approximately 200 parking spaces at a rate of 10 to 15 cents per car. Owners of nearby property were unhappy about this, pointing out that moviegoers would simply fill up the no-cost street parking around the theater before heading into the paid lot. So, the city planners offered a final compromise solution: Consolidated must provide at least 200 free parking spaces for theater patrons.
Consolidated Lobbying Pays Off
By September 1934, things heated up when an investigation of alleged “monopolistic agreements” between film distributors and Consolidated Amusement was filed with the Federal Trade Commission in Washington. One of many things mentioned in the complaint was Consolidated’s attempts to block “midget” theaters from receiving remodeling permits. For example, on September 4, 1934, Judge A. M. Cristy issued a restraint preventing the city inspector from issuing a building permit to J. J. Franklin, a “midget movies” promoter, that would allow them to renovate the Von Holt building for theater purposes.[iii]Despite Consolidated representatives publicly denying any knowledge of wrongdoing, it was clear the company was using its strength to bully and prevent increased competition.
Consolidated was pushing full steam ahead, especially with their lobbying efforts. On September 10, 1934, the company filed another petition for increased zoning at Kalakaua and Seaside Ave. Then, on September 25, they made their final and most powerful pitch to the public works committee. First, they presented evidence that 90 percent of property owners within 750 feet of the proposed theater approved of its size and construction. Then, as a final nail in the coffin, they brought in a big gun. Former governor of Hawaii Lawrence M. Judd told the committee that the new theater would be a “show place of which the city would be proud.”[iv]
On Tuesday, October 10, Consolidated Amusement got the big win it had been fighting for. Both the Honolulu Advertiser and the Honolulu Star-Bulletin reported that plans for the theater had been drawn up, and work would commence soon.
The front page of the Honolulu Star-Bulletin on October 13, 1934 showcased architect Charles William (C.W.) Dickey’s proposed design for the Waikiki Theatre. Two months later, on December 22, the Honolulu Advertiser published the first aerial drawing of the theater and grounds. It was spectacular, and you can imagine this must have been a proud moment for many in Waikiki.
In July 1935, after a number of modifications, C.W. Dickey announced his plans were finished and ready to be submitted to the president and general manager of the theater, Esmond I. Parker. The estimated cost of the theater was $150,000 (which is approximately $3M today). The only significant change from the initial master plan was the elimination of a radio broadcast station. Interestingly, in August 1935, Consolidated purchased an 85 percent share in the Honolulu Broadcasting Company, owners of the KGMB station. They were wisely speculating that television had a glittering future ahead.
Consolidated Breaks Ground
In November 1935, Honolulu contractor E. E. Black was awarded the construction contract for the theater. Black’s bid was $115,000 ($2.1M) and did not include air conditioning. The climate control system would be handled by W. A. Ramsay, Ltd., who would install a Carrier system.
In December 1935, Consolidated Amusement finally broke ground on the Waikiki Theatre. It would become Honolulu’s most recognizable landmark and one of the most iconic motion picture theaters in history.
And within its distinctive walls, hiding just inside the entrance doors, was something truly unique.
Waikiki Beach Building Boom
By late February 1936, the outer walls of the theater were well underway and its iconic shape started to appear for all to see.[v]
Later that month, Union Oil Company requested an additional 30 square feet in the business district adjacent to the theater. The request was approved without contest the following month. Consolidated began construction of the parking lot immediately. It was the Start of a Waikiki Beach building boom.
Within a short time, many new residences and apartment buildings were under construction. The May 18, 1936 edition of the Honolulu Advertiser ran an article entitled Waikiki Beach Area Notes Building Boom. In addition to the theater, it mentioned 15 different structures under construction or nearing completion in the area. These included two-story stucco apartments at Royal Hawaiian and Kuhio Streets and two apartment complexes on Aloha Drive. But as with almost every construction project, there were a few unanticipated challenges. One would have been especially costly.
The Electric Organ Misses its Projection
The full-time organist for the Waikiki Theatre was Ed Sawtelle. He was very popular, one of the foremost organists in the country, and a graduate of the Boston Conservatory of Music. Sawtelle returned to Hawaii in 1936 to take up his new position at the theater, bringing with him a new organ. Although he had a long relationship with the Robert-Morton Organ Company, Sawtelle had selected something different: the Hammond Electric Model A. Heralded as the latest in organ technology, Sawtelle had provided design input and oversaw the production of this new Organ at the Hammond factory in Chicago.
The August 20 edition of the Honolulu Star-Bulletin featured a lengthy article on the new Organ. In a piece titled Organ Praised by Sawtelle, the organist goes into detail about the Hammond Model A and its many benefits, asserting “it is a far superior instrument of its kind… and the volume can be increased from a barely audible murmur to a might roar….”[vi]
Part of the Hammond’s appeal was probably the price. A Hammond Model A cost under $3,000, whereas a pipe organ could cost anywhere from $10,000 to $75,000 at the time. But, unfortunately, the Hammond did not last long in the theater.
Sawtelle and the theater audience soon realized although the new Model A was the latest in electronic organ technology, it could not project sound far enough for such a large theater.
Although Hammond claimed their new “Model A” electric Organ could produce the same timbre as a pipe organ, the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) and customers begged to differ. In 1936, these claims would ultimately result in a cease-and-desist order from the FTC. The FTC admitted the Organ was a fine and beautiful instrument. However, it was unable to live up to its claims of performing as well as a pipe organ.[vii]
A Robert-Morton pipe organ was removed from the Hawaii Theatre and retrofitted into the Waikiki Theatre to resolve the problem. Its chambers were hidden behind the large plaster palm trees. Nothing was reported on what must have been a significant unplanned expense for the theater.
If there was any embarrassment, it quickly faded as Sawtelle and the Robert-Morton pipe-organ became a feature, with daily performances and weekly radio broadcasts. You can still find recordings of them today.
Fountain of Stars
On June 19, 1936, another attraction for the theater was announced. The “Fountain of the Stars” in the forecourt would display, cast in brass, the signatures of more than 200 stars from Hollywood. The signatures were sent to Hawaii and then cast in brass there. It was destined to be a big attraction as many were from stars who typically did not show their signatures publicly.
Emergence and Frescoes
“Like a beautiful butterfly emerging from the chrysalis…” declared the Honolulu Star-Bulletin in July 1936 as the new theater’s final pieces were put into place. Described as being designed in Tropical Moderne style, nothing like it had been seen before.[viii]
Some aspects were provoking complaints from local citizens. For example, in Letters from Readers in the July 25edition of the Star-Bulletin, Mrs. Archibald Baird writes: “Sir: Can nothing be done to prevent the glaring signs being placed on our lovely new Waikiki theater? …Neon lights…in such a manner…is tragic…” 7
For the most part, the theater thrilled those who put their eyes upon it. A giant gold mirror was placed in the foyer. It reflected murals by Emerson Andelin. These murals depicted the advancement of Hawaiian life from ancient transportation in canoes to the luxurious clipper planes used by affluent tourists from the mainland. There is a line drawing of this image on page 96 of Lowell Angell’s book Theatres of Hawaii.
Emerson Andelin was born in Utah, one of seven children who all became artists. His daughter Pamela carried on the artistic gene, becoming a painter as well. Andelin studied art in California and went to Honolulu in the late 1920s. Consolidated Amusement used him to decorate many of their theaters. He also served on the board of the Honolulu Art Academy. He later moved to Hollywood and was an artist on films such as Tora Tora Tora and Devil at 4 O’Clock. After he retired, he returned to the islands where he died in an automobile accident on Haleakala Highway in March 1979, at the age of 76. Although not a first and remaining in place for another 30 years, Andelin’s murals were also not preserved.
Marguerite Louis Blasingame, one of Hawaii’s leading artists at the time, was commissioned by C. W. Dickey to paint two large frescoes in the theater lobby. Blasingame was born in Hawaii to Portuguese emigrant parents. In 1928 she graduated from the University of Hawaii, having studied language arts and theater. Blasingame then went on to the California School of Fine Arts (San Francisco Art Institute) and ultimately received her master’s in graphic arts from Stanford University in 1932. She married fellow artist Frank Blasingame in 1929.
C. W. Dickey possibly became aware of Marguerite and her work during a series of lectures on architecture at the Honolulu Academy of Arts in 1935. By this time, Marguerite and her husband Frank Blasingame had created several carvings on the island, including the four blue-stone panels on the Kawananakoa School fountain, a teakwood screen in the C. Brewer building, and the incredible carvings still gracing the Church of the Crossroads. The frescoes were to be interpretive expressions of ancient Hawaiian life.
The press described them as, “Daring in theme, these murals are unlike any ever painted with a Hawaiian motif.”[ix] They were considered the first “true” frescoes ever painted in Hawaii. They are frescoes instead of murals because they were painted directly onto the wall while the plaster was still wet, rather than a dry or easily movable object or surface. These frescoes would have more eyes on them in 43 years than most museum pieces have in a lifetime.
They depicted scenes of hula dancers, perhaps at a luau or other celebration. Using rhythm and repetition, Blasingame created a balanced and lively composition that was sure to engage theatergoers as they entered the lobby. The figures were clearly defined with simple lines and flat colors. While the murals depicted a festive occasion, the figures’ expressions conveyed seriousness and intense focus. The dancers formed precise, diagonal lines as they performed their synchronized movements, while musicians playing the ukulele and other revelers rounded out the foreground and background. Filled with harmonious and energetic movement, the frescoes helped set the mood for the evening as the audience entered the theater.
One of Marguerite Blasingame’s frescoes in the Waikiki Theater lobby. The photo was taken shortly before demolition. Credit: Hawaii State Archives, Photographer David Franzen
A Glistening Jewel
The 1,300-seat theatre had a single screen flanked by coconut palm trees with an artificial rainbow curving over the top. The auditorium had a curved midnight blue plaster “sky” on which moving stars were projected.
“Waikiki Theatre Interior,” UHM Library Digital Image Collections, accessed December 21, 2020, https://digital.library.manoa.hawaii.edu/items/show/30035.
The grand opening took place on August 20, 1936. The program was Edwin Sawtelle presenting Hawaiian melodies, a Mickey Mouse cartoon (Mickey’s Grand Opera), Paramount News, and then the main feature, a romantic adventure film, Under Two Flags.
“Waikiki Theater” The Honolulu Advertiser August 20, 1936, Page 11
The local press seemed to like it. “The new theater is like a glistening jewel set in soft green velvet,” begins an article in the Honolulu Advertiser. The foyer has “… murals depicting the growth of Hawaii as the islands kept pace with the progress of the world, from ancient times to the present….”
It describes the auditorium as “a revelation in theatrical architecture” and continues in a similar vein: “The ceiling done in soft blue becomes a replica of the heavens through special lighting effects… through this lighting the great rainbow that spans the proscenium becomes a soft, misty, fairy arch rivalling in great loveliness the great rainbows that arch (sic) Hawaii’s skies.”[x]
“The usherettes were beautiful island girls in white slacks and blouses with blazing red sashes over their left shoulders and around their slender waists,” recalled Star-Bulletin columnist Ben Wood. “Flowers over their right ears and leis rounded out the outfits,” he wrote.[xi]
The Hedlund Fresco Restoration
Marguerite Blasingame died at the tragically young age of 41 in 1947. Still, her frescoes continued to be appreciated in Hawaii, at least for a while.
In 1959, artist Roy James Hedlund, an art major at the University of Hawaii, was commissioned to restore her frescoes. As a young teenager, Hedlund had sell-out exhibitions of his work at Tokeo Gima’s gallery. He had grown up around some of Hawaii’s greatest artists, including Jean Charlot, Juliette May Fraser, and Madge Tennant. Hedlund had admired the Blasingame frescoes for many years and was ecstatic about the opportunity to restore them.
Hedlund spent two weeks on the restoration while Juliette May Fraser oversaw the work. He was allowed to work for two hours each day, starting at 5:00 am. He began by using several applications of soap and water to remove years of dirt and grime from the paint, then let it dry overnight.
Fraser gave him tips, recalling how Marguerite had originally painted the frescoes. She advised him to use long-haired sable brushes and watered-down oil paints. He first tested paint colors on stiff white paper. Once dry, he held the paper up to the relevant area of the fresco to make sure the colors matched. Only then would he apply the paint directly to the fresco itself.
Hedlund recalled being paid very little for the restoration, somewhere around $20 for the entire project. However, he didn’t complain because he considered it a labor of love.
Unfortunately, his own work was to suffer the same fate as the frescoes he so lovingly restored. An ugly divorce led to the destruction of photos of his paintings and many of the original artworks themselves. As a result, very few Hedlund originals, if any, survive today.
Frescoes Come Tumbling Down
Thousands of tourists and Hawaiian locals enjoyed the Waikiki Theatre. On a Hawaiian blog about the old theaters, one said, “I distinctly remember seeing Close Encounters Of The Third Kind there and during one of the scenes the palm trees on the upper left side of the theater started to shake. There was a lot of commotion when the ushers discovered someone was hiding up there adding his own special effects. Remember the stars on the ceiling? Or the organist that used to play before the show? They just don’t make theaters like that anymore!”[xii]
Forty-three years after it opened to such great excitement and acclaim, the Waikiki Theatre’s days were numbered. On February 17, 1979, the Honolulu Star-Bulletin ran the following story:
“The Waikiki Theater now known less grandly as the Waikiki Theater III will be demolished and replaced by four smaller theatres and a shopping complex if its owner, Consolidated Amusement Company has its way. The city Department of Land Utilisation has confirmed that Consolidated plans a development that would add four more movie theatres – a total of six – not far from the corner of Kalakaua and Seaside Avenues.
But the plan is certain to be protested although the structure, which was designed by the world-famous Hawaii and California architect CW Dickey, is not yet on any register of historic buildings.”
The Historic Hawaii Foundation tried to save the theatre and prevent the impending renovation. Although just seven years short of qualifying for the national historic register, the foundation argued the theatre should be made an exception. However, in a 6-2 decision, the state Historic Places Review Board voted with extreme improvidence not to place the building on the register.
Charles R. Sutton, architect and one of the minority board members in the vote, commented, “It has been a significant landmark, a recognizable one, and should have been on the register,” continuing “…I think Waikiki is made more interesting by retaining landmarks.”[xiii]
Board chairman Peter Nelligan commented, “I think while most or all of the board members appreciate Waikiki Theatre for its architectural qualities, there is some doubt over whether they could be called exceptionally significant.”[xiv]
No mention was made of the exceptionally significant frescoes, painted by Marguerite Blasingame, which were now just hours from destruction. They were not thought important enough to try and save; they felt a larger concession area was more important.
Michael Horikawa, currently one of the most prominent collectors of Hawaiiana, was among those that attempted to save Hawaii’s first frescoes. Horikawa was a commercial photographer at the time, and one of his clients was Consolidate Amusement.
As soon as Horikawa heard the frescoes were destined for demolition, he phoned Consolidated’s President, informing him he was willing to foot the bill and save the murals. However, he was told there wasn’t enough time before the demolition was due to start. More importantly, liability insurance would not allow for it.
If only they had been treated with as much respect as the mural by Mexican artist Diego Rivera, Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in Alameda Central Park. It was created for the Hotel del Prado in 1947. When the hotel was severely damaged in Mexico’s 1985 earthquake, it was scheduled for demolition. But the authorities recognized the importance of what was painted on its walls. Rivera’s fresco was, miraculously, undamaged by the earthquake.
In a Herculean effort and at great expense, they moved the 77,000-pound work to a safer location. Not only that, but the Mexican government also built a museum around it to preserve it. That’s what happens when you respect your artists and history.
What was left of the once magnificent art deco Waikiki Theatre underwent total destruction in April 2005. There was little reason to fight for its survival again; the theater had already lost its soul. Today, an outdoor strip mall is in its place, along with photographs of the Waikiki Theatre in a stairwell. The photos fail to show the once great art and Hawaii’s first frescoes inside.
[i] “New Theater is Planned at Waikiki Beach,” Honolulu Star-Bulletin, June 3, 1933, 1.
[ii] Lowell Angell, Theaters of Hawaii (Mount Pleasant, SC: Arcadia Publishing, 2011), 89.
[iii] “Movie Houses Carry War to U.S. Officials,” Honolulu Star-Bulletin, September 3, 1934, 3.
[v] “Theater Nears Completion,” Honolulu Star-Bulletin, February 22, 1936, 10.
[vi] “Edwin Sawtelle Music Director At the Waikiki,” The Honolulu Advertiser, August 20 1936, 12.
[vii] “Hammond is Ordered to ‘Cease and Desist’,” The Diapason, August 20 1936, 12.
[viii] “Hawaii’s Waikiki Theatre Demolished,” CinemaTreasures.com, April 27, 2005.
[ix] “Spirit of Islands Captured in New Theater’s Design,” Honolulu Star-Bulletin, August 20 1936, 29.
[x] “Waikiki Theater An Affectionate Memory of a Very Special Theater,” http://waikikitheatre.bobalder.com/.
[xi] “Original Waikiki Theatre to Come Tumbling Down,” Star-Bulletin, November 18, 2003, http://archives.starbulletin.com/2003/11/18/business/story3.html.
[xii] “Do You Remember… Theaters,” https://www.midlifecrisishawaii.com/2010/08/23/do-you-remember-theaters/, August 23, 2010.
[xiii] “Waikiki Theater’s Final Curtain Is Drawing Near,” Star-Bulletin, July 20, 1979, 2.
[xiv] “Waikiki Theater’s Final Curtain Is Drawing Near,” Star-Bulletin, July 20 1979, 2.
I’m at the point in my research and confident enough to say I am the unofficial knowledge expert on the artists known as Marguerite Louis Blasingame and Frank Marvin Blasingame.
These two were nearly forgotten, and although my research has stirred up renewed interest, there is still a large amount of misinformation surrounding these two. Having compiled more than a thousand pages of notes and documents, I will help set the record straight in a book I am writing.
Marguerite and Frank came from notable bourgeois families in Hawaii and California. They fell in love while working in theater in the 1920s. They married under what appears to be discrete circumstances and together chose to say goodbye to their love of theater in pursuit of becoming visual artists. It is a love story.
I will provide many details on intriguing events including, and far from limited to, why Hawaii’s first frescoes were destroyed and the struggle to save them. Marguerite was lauded as a great sculptress, but what did her heart desire most in the visual arts spectrum, and what nickname did she loath? What happened to Frank after leaving the islands, and what influenced his highly unique suridealist paintings. What prompted his final move to an unfamiliar state on the other side of the country only to die shortly after arrival?
I will shed light on the elite artists and circles that influenced Marguerite and Frank Blasingame. Provide details on the art they collaborated on, and artworks they fought attribution over. I will also reveal long-lost Blasingame pieces never published. Finally, I will help provide a more apparent distinction between who executed which “Blasingame” works.
Ultimately I hope the book shines new light and interest on these two fascinating artists who are both due proper recognition.
