“We get people who try to take their picture up against the pilot, and we tell them, ‘don’t lean on that,’” explained Steve Sawyer, engineer at the Golden Spike National Historic Site, motioning towards the blue-and-gold cowcatcher of the Jupiter. “That’s gold leaf- real gold.”
Gold? Most people assume that the pinstriping and trim on steam locomotives is brass or gold paint. The majority really is brass, being solid castings, but lettering, striping, and floral patterns are often real 24-carat gold leaf, painstakingly applied by hand and varnished. It’s no wonder that the staff at Golden Spike take great pains to keep the locomotives clean, but what is amazing is that manufacturers spent so much money on extravagant decorations on machines that were expected to get dirty.
So why? Why treat a product of the industrial age as a work of art? There was no real reason, per se. Nobody expected their art to last, and it didn’t. The Jupiter and the 119 probably lasted at most ten years from their construction with their original paint. At Nelson’s suggestion, I am taking this blog a bit further beyond the “look what I’ve done” format that we’ve been using. Over the course of the next year or so, I will explore what I call “everyday art”, or the application of beauty to objects that we take for granted in our day-to-day lives.
Yes, the steam locomotive is not the first thing to come to mind when thinking of our everyday existence. Seriously, it’s been more than 50 years since the last mainline revenue steam locomotive was retired (although technically Union Pacific’s 844 was never retired, but nowadays it is used only for publicity). Today they have been relegated to museums and tourist railroads, objects of curiosity to wonder at and pass on. But it is something that I am interested in (some say obsessed), so I will naturally start here, with the classic steam locomotive.
Most visitors to Golden Spike National Historic Site refuse to believe that these were working locomotives, and instead follow the myth that they were painted specially for the Gold Spike ceremony, when in fact this was how they rolled out of the factory.
So back to the question: Why treat the steam locomotive as a work of art? And what defines a locomotive as art? I’ll attempt to answer the first question with this post, and the second with a follow-up post.
There are many theories as to why such painstaking efforts were made to decorate and adorn locomotives. Naturally, the Jupiter was the offspring of the early Victorian era, when gaudy was in style and ornate was a requirement, not an option. The meticulously shaded lettering on the locomotives’ tenders, painted by hand and outlined with a floral pattern of gold leaf, demonstrates this. But this explanation does not reveal the entire story. In fact, there are two main theories behind the art of locomotive painting.
All of the lettering on the side of the 119's tender is 24 karat gold leaf. Why apply one of the most precious metals to a machine that will only wear it off in work?
Theory Number 1: Extravagant machines were an attempt to soften the shock of the Industrial Revolution.
Not the most artistic photograph, but the Jonny Appleseed is a work of art in itself, and this picture does not do it justice. On the opposite side of this dome is a similar painting - depicting a trapper in the Rocky Mountains.
To demonstrate this theory, take the example of Union Pacific’s number 119, the other of the two famous locomotives that met on May 10, 1869. On the sand dome straddling the boiler is a picture of a man with a shoulder bag stepping through a wooded landscape. Called Jonny Appleseed, it is a work of art in itself, copied as exactly as possible from period photographs, and painted by hand in oil on the brass casting that comprises the dome. Why? It almost belongs in a gallery, not exposed to the sun, rain, snow, cinders, soot and ash on a working freight-hauling locomotive as the 119 was in 1869. This theory states that the industrial revolution, and particularly the development of the steam locomotive, was quite shocking to the American people, who up to the 1840s were definitely not mechanically minded, living off of the land in a largely agricultural society. The Average American was slow to pick up on the great technological advances made in Europe, and fear of the steam locomotive was common (but naturally so was excitement). This shock was an abrupt transition from the beauty of the landscape and living creatures to the perceived ugliness of the loud, smoky, dead machines. To counter it, locomotive builders tried to apply beauty to their creations to soften this transition. Such efforts included, like the Jonny Appleseed, beautifully executed pastoral scenes: Waterfalls, mountains, fields, rivers, and majestic wildlife. To balance it all out, bright paint and ornate brass castings were applied.
On the corners of the tenders of the 119 (right and left) and the Jupiter are more paintings. The effort placed into beautifying the American locomotive during this time period is breathtaking.
Theory Number 2: Extravagant machines served as advertising.
According to Jeff Terry, who is a noted railroad photographer, steam locomotives were designed to serve as advertising for both the railroads that bought them, and the manufacturer themselves. A beautifully detailed locomotive, painted in bright colors, will naturally attract the eye of the customer, and potential passengers may be subconsciously drawn to patronize the line with the fanciest locomotive. And in the favor of the manufacturer, the locomotives will be easily identifiable as their product, and other railroads will (hopefully) order from them.
In the case of the Jupiter, ordered by the Central Pacific from the Schenectady Locomotive Works of New York , it was painted in a beautiful deep blue, with red accents and brass trim. But why blue? In the words of Jim Wilke:
"Jupiter was built by the Schenectady Locomotive Works of New York State, whose Scottish management employed the blue and crimson colors of Scotland's Caledonian Railway – blue is the national color of Scotland. The same scheme was employed upon the banners of the largely Scottish 79th New York Volunteers, known as the "Highland Regiment." Blue and crimson was not only used by Schenectady, however, and the Brooks Locomotive Works and the Rogers Locomotive & Machine Works also turned out engines in various blue and red combinations."
Miles Chester, volunteer at GSNHS, stands in front of the Jupiter, whose bright colors were influenced by the ancestry of the owner of its manufacturer. When first reconstructed in the 1970s, it was thought that locomotives of the 1860s were all red, but research has proved that period locomotive builders had an eye for color, perhaps to attract future customers.
In designating the blue with red trim, products from that company would be easily recognized when compared with those of a competitor, such as the Rogers Locomotive Works, which happens to be the manufacturer of the 119, and used various shades of red and wine on its works. The choice made by Schenectady also had the advantage of proudly displaying one’s family heritage.
As time went on, the art of locomotive decoration gradually declined. By the 1880s, paintings were no longer found on the domes, and the gold striping was relegated to geometric patterns. Colors were often much more muted, and restricted to a limited palate (often olive greens or deep browns) but were still unique to each builder. An excellent case study on Baldwin Locomotive Works decorating of this period can be found at this link: Pacific Narrow Gauge. Check it out, it’s quite interesting.
Contrast the 119 with the Jupiter in the opening photograph. The colors set each apart as products of Rogers and Schenectaty, Locomotive Works, respectively.
This was only natural, though. Railroads have to make money, and gold leaf isn’t cheap, nor is it economical to keep artists on staff to repaint the Jonny Appleseed. The American Locomotive, by the turn of the 20th century, adopted what is now considered typical of steam: black with white or silver (technically aluminum) trim. But even then, pride was taken in maintaining of locomotive appearances.
Regards,
Josh
A Gold-leaf star on the axle hub of the Jupiter's driving wheel testafies to the loving skill applied to the American Locomotive that set the standard for the rest of the world.
