uncovering the 1920's boot of a theater tradesman in the congress theater attic

discovering the remnants of bygone tradesmen in a building seems akin to finding the proverbial “needle in the haystack.” it takes patience and sufficient lighting as much as luck to pinpoint objects left undisturbed for many decades. it is all the more gratifying to uncover these rare treasures, largely hidden by an accumulation of dust. as exploration of the congress theater continues, I keep finding workers' possessions along the wooden catwalks, artifacts that have been untouched for the past 91 years.

this 1926 chicago street guide was found approximately two feet away the catwalk surrounding the bottommost dome segment. aside from being dusty and discolored, the booklet is in great condition. i'm guessing it belonged to a tradesman (the theater was completed the same year the booklet was published) who was a transplant from some other city or even country.

high above the auditorium floor, this walkway is concealed by a gridded “iron tent” containing a sea of monotone plaster, with the texture of a lunar surface. unfortunately, here, gravity is hard at work and walking directly onto the plaster “floor” will send one crashing through to an unpleasant death below. there is at least one recorded incident of such a near-accident, when a heavily intoxicated concert-goer fell through the ceiling, saved only by the fact that his arms were “caught” by the steel channels.

thus, when i move off the catwalk i make sure to latch my lifeline to anything and everything anchored against the roof – which is how the giant dome is suspended. the steel channels between the plaster are reinforced with expandable mesh that can support my weight and this is how i am able to navigate the lofty terrain of the theater, far from the path that has been traversed for changing out lightbulbs.

period advertisement for expanded metal plastering lath. after further research, i discovered that the north western expanded metal company (also of chicago) provided the metal mesh for the congress theater. the iron channels and ties were likely fabricated by illinois steel.

i’ve returned to the theater repeatedly, and even on my tenth exploration there were artifacts to be discovered. i found a half-smoked pack of luckystrike cigarettes and a cedar wood matchbox still full of matches nearby. about ten feet away from that, near one of two small domes i uncovered a pocketbook-sized street guide dating to 1926. funnily enough, the booklet focused more on how to prevent oneself from "catching" a sexual disease then navigating the city.

pack of cigarettes and matches left by a plaster tradesman (possibly from mcnulty brothers) in 1926. found in congress theater's attic near one of two smaller domes. the majority of the objects left behind are being found in under and/or around the wood plank catwalks surrounding the domes.

period advertisement for lucky strike cigarettes.

when i discovered a leather heel, dislodged from a tradesman’s boot, i realized it was the first item i’d found that wasn’t a consumable good (e.g., milk bottles, cigarettes, chewing tobacco, etc.) or a leftover construction material (e.g., piles of cattle hair, mortar bags, light bulbs, pencils, etc.). it struck me as a much more personal item. as i mulled it over i stumbled across something that made my hair stand on end.

i must have walked past it dozens of times. i missed it because it was actually incorporated into the plaster dome. perhaps finding the sole of a shoe prompted me to imagine the articles of clothing tradesmen wore while working, and finally allowed me to notice it: a completely intact hand-stitched leather boot had been used to anchor the ornamental cast plaster (seen from below) against an angled steel channel forming the dome's iron tent or skeleton.

20. DECORATIVE PLASTER ORNAMENTS BEING MADE ON AUDITORIUM FLOOR, March 31, 1928 - Loew's Theatre, 625 South Fourth Street, Louisville, Jefferson County, KY PHOTOS FROM SURVEY HABS KY-134

tools of the trade.

it was a perplexing construction choice. did the plasterer run out of material? was it a joke? did one tradesman prank another by plastering his boot into place? or, on a more somber note, could it have been a memorial for a worker who died on the job, and the boot was left in his honor? i expect i will never know the answer. after documenting the boot in my studio, i decided to place it back exactly as it was found, since technically it was structural-  serving as an anchor to support the plaster against the dome’s frame. it is also a gesture of respect for the building, an acknowledgement that some things deserve to remain unchanged. though a new future no doubt lies in store for the theater, it will keep this small but affecting trace of its early history.

the tradesman's boot (1926) was carefully extracted and thoroughly documented in my studio before returning to the place i found it.