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Oscar Wilde's Visit to Salt Lake City
Oscar Wilde's Visit to Salt Lake City
BY HELEN L. WARNER
If you're anxious for to shine in the high aesthetic line as a man of culture rare,
You must get up all the germs of the transcendental terms and plant them everywhere.
You must lie upon the daisies, and discourse in novel phrases of your complicated state of mind
(The meaning doesn't matter if it's only idle chatter of a transcendental kind). And everyone will say, As you walk your mystic way,
"If this young man expresses himself in terms too deep for me,
Why, what a very singularly deep young man this deep young man must be!"
THE CITIZENS OF SALT LAKE CITY were looking forward to the visit of that famous personage, the "singularly deep young man" of the Aesthetic Movement, Oscar Wilde, who was making his extensive American tour in 1882. Like theaters all over the United States, the Salt Lake Theatre had presented Gilbert and Sullivan's latest comic opera. Patience, to sold-out audiences in order to acquaint people with Oscar Wilde, the Sunflower Apostle. His visit was well-publicized, and people here were very curious to see a man who still wore knee breeches and spoke of the virtues of sunflowers and lilies. For most people, however, Wilde's visit to Salt Lake turned out to be a great disappointment.
When Wilde made his American lecture tour in 1882, he had only recently gained fame, not for the strange poetry he had published but for his depiction as the foppish aesthetic poet, Bunthorne, in Patience. Many did not believe that he could be as ridiculous as Gilbert had portrayed him. Since it was well-known that Oscar had attended the premier performance in London, it did seem as if he approved of the image forced upon him. It is not known if Oscar, had it not been for Patience, ever would have dressed in the velvet knee breeches or carried the aesthetic lily in his hands for which he became so famous. Since his career had not really begun yet, he likely adopted this exaggerated "aesthetic" manner and dress as his trademark. Needless to say, almost instantly he became a celebrity.
Wilde seems to have been the chief spokesman, if not the originator, of the "aesthetic craze" that began about 1880. Three aspects of the Aesthetic Movement became popular during the last half of the nineteenth century. In the most general sense, the disciples of the Aesthetic Movement worshipped Beauty, especially as found in art, music, architecture, fashion, and speech. Intellectuals in the movement adhered to the "art for art's sake" philosophy that Beauty should be appreciated for itself and does not need a practical purpose. This was carried further by William Morris and the Arts and Handicrafts aspect of the Aesthetic Movement. Man should surround himself with beautiful things, such as furniture, paintings, wallpaper, and architecture, in order to be happy. One must be careful to avoid creating ugly art, even if it is useful, because ugliness does not contribute to forming a morally good character.
This admirable philosophy was very attractive to many people in England in the 1880s. Some got carried away, however, and, following the lead of Oscar Wilde, the extremists began to behave in a rather bizarre manner:
This third aspect of the Aesthetic Movement, better described as a "craze," may have been started by Wilde as a reaction to the serious side of Aestheticism. His attitude would change after his American tour, however, as Wilde himself became more familiar with the ideas of Walter Pater and other serious disciples of the movement. Works like The Picture of Dorian Gray and The Importance of Being Earnest show a maturity lacking in Wilde's "aesthetic young man." He seems to have gained a true appreciation for the Arts and Handicrafts aesthetics of William Morris, the aspect he had presented earlier, in a rather haphazard fashion, to his Utah audience.
When Wilde announced shortly after the first performance of Patience at the Standard Theatre in New York City on September 22, 1881, that he was planning an extensive lecture tour to America, many became curious and formed plans for the entertainment of this eccentric person. Poems and songs were written in his honor, and his popularity grew rapidly:
I'll sing to you of a nice young man, Of virtues rich and rare.
Of stature tall and ankles thin. And long and curly hair.
Aesthetic to a great degree. In actions sweet and mild,
Sublimely lank and nonchalant, But just a little "wild."
Oscar, dear; Oscar, dear! How flutterly utterly "flutter" you are,
Oscar, dear; Oscar, dear! I think you are awfully wild!
On January 1, 1882, the Salt Lake Daily Herald and the Salt Lake Tribune presented their readers with the first news of Oscar's impending arrival in the United States. Both newspapers contained the same paragraph about his sailing and his first appearance on January 9 and also noted the Standard Theatre's hundredth performance of Patience, illustrating the tremendous enthusiasm for Gilbert and Sullivan and for Oscar Wilde. The excitement also had begun to infect the people of Salt Lake. Three days later, on January 4, the Herald and the
Deseret Evening News proclaimed his arrival in New York with identical reports:
With nothing to declare "but [his] genius," Oscar was here to greet, lecture, and see America and its people. He was determined to bring culture to the New World, no easy task for one man, even an aesthetic man with all of Oscar's confident abilities.
The people of New York loved Oscar and he loved New York. Perhaps as his enthusiasm had not yet diminished, he was able to make a good impression: "His voice is pleasing and well-modulated," one man reported, "and he speaks very distinctly." This would change as Wilde made his long journey across the United States, lecturing at every town at which he stopped. The novelty quickly wore off.
The West was less inclined to appreciate Oscar's religion of Beauty. Life there was hard in 1882, and people tended to be more practical than aesthetic. Man-made ugliness was everywhere, and it was too difficult to escape it. People were still curious to see the Sunflower Apostle but were more able to recognize him for the clever fool he really was.
He comes! The simpering Oscar comes. The West awaits with wonder
As bull-frogs list to beating drums Or hearken to the thunder.
The women pause with bated breath, With Wild and wistful faces.
And silent as the halls of death Seem all our public places.
He comes with words sublimely dull. In garb superbly silly,
To tell us of the Beautiful, The sunflower and the lily.
Behold him here among you now. Oh, how divinely utter!
His sensual chin, his narrow brow, His brains like April butter.
Here in the energetic West We have no vacant niches For clowns with pansies in the vest Or dadoes on the breeches.
We do not live by form or rule. We love our wives and lassies;
We like to look at Western mules. But not aesthetic asses.
The people of Sacramento—his stop directly before Salt Lake City— liked Oscar and gave him a favorable review. He was equally impressed with California and expressed his wish to return. Teased almost everywhere but most of the time only good-naturedly, he continued to draw crowds to his lectures and attention to himself.
Oscar was scheduled to arrive in Salt Lake on April 10, 1882, and to lecture that evening. The local newspapers began to advertise well in advance, with the earliest mention of his forthcoming lecture on April 4 in the Herald— a special announcement from the Home Dramatic Club which was postponing its production of a play called Saratoga "in order to give the public an opportunity to hear the celebrated aesthete." The Herald, the best promoter for Wilde's visit to the valley, all the next week printed reminders of the lecture, exciting Salt Lake residents about the approaching visit of "the Oscah!"
On April 6 the Deseret Nevus and the Herald explained in similar articles the topic of "the Oscah's" lecture—"the Practical Application of Aesthetic Theory to Everyday Home Life and Art Ornamentation." Although he had given this talk all over the country, it was an intriguing subject to the Mormons, who had successfully created an oasis of prosperity, beauty, and culture on the edge of the Great Basin.
On April 7 readers of the Herald learned that tickets were available at the box office at the usual theater rates. Prices ranged from twentyfive cents for the cheapest seats to two dollars seventy-five cents for seats in the Dress Circle. By April 8 the lecture was being thoroughly covered by all three newspapers and seats were selling quickly. Almost everyone was anxious to see and hear the "untamed Oscah."
It seems from the tone of articles printed in the Deseret News that this paper was not impressed with Wilde, "the celebrated poet, lecturer, aesthete, or whatever he is called" and was determined not to like him even before he had arrived. While the Herald teased Oscar goodnaturedly, as had so many other papers across the West, the Deseret News was ready to believe he was just a ridiculous figure pretending to be a great scholar. Despite this, they sardonically recognized his tremendous attraction: "There is little doubt but that Salt Lake will feel the prevailing desire to gaze upon so noted a personage." This attitude towards the strange man in the black velvet knee breeches, however, had not been unusual as Oscar toured the country.
There would always be skeptics of the religion of Beauty no matter where its prophet went.
Aestheticism was spreading in America despite the negative publicity. The Deseret News reported on April 8 the arrest of two women in Denver, one for wearing a huge sunflower in her hat which could be seen a block away, and the other for carrying a "large, artificially aesthetic" lily. Since there was nothing really illegal about this and the jails were already too full, the two ladies had to be released. They did, however, promise "to eschew the aesthetic sunflower and seductive lily and confine themselves to more ordinary methods of personal ornamentation. They determined to be no longer disciples of the eccentric Oscar." Although Americans were paying him one thousand dollars a lecture to bring "culture" to America, the spread of his cultural beliefs and practices was not encouraged.
In another article related to Wilde, Lily Langtry, named for that seductive flower and a recipient of Oscar's affections, also had promised to visit America but was worried about her reception here after hearing of the mockery of her friend. The Tribune assured her that she would be judged for her acting talent, not her beauty: "Beauty will have its influence also, but Mrs. Langtry must not adopt Oscar's dress. She will never make a hit in America in knee breeches."
The day before the arrival of "the Oscah," the Tribune announced the lecture and advised Salt Lakers to treat their guest with respect, reminding them that it was wise not to laugh at someone who probably knew more than oneself. A friend, Horace Wickham, who had arrived in Salt Lake a week before, described in an interview Oscar's earlier life, proclivities, poems, and peculiarities. Although a refined young man now, Oscar had once been, Wickham stated, a very clumsy youth, always knocking things over, and voted a "muff" by his class at Trinity College, Dublin. This opinion changed, however, when he punched the class bully in a dispute over one of his poems and everyone recognized his spunk. Claiming that Oscar had always loved beauty, especially in color and design, and was a great admirer of elegance, Wickham believed Wilde was bringing Americans fresh new ideas for house decoration and would undoubtedly leave the States a successful man. This article also pointed out that "the American press has generally credited him with writing poetry unfit for decent people to read." Readers were invited to read four poems by Oscar and pick out the objectionable lines. This alleged lack of morality in Wilde's poems would not have endeared him to the "decent" Salt Lake Mormons.
The morning of April 10 dawned, and despite reservations about their guest the residents of Salt Lake City were prepared to see him. The visit had sparked the imaginations of many young ladies who had planned to entertain him, but it seems that none of these schemes came to fruition. When Oscar arrived on the morning train, "he was the observed of all observers." At noon he went to his hotel, the Walker House at 242 South Main, where, observed by a small crowd of the curious, he and his servant disappeared through the ladies' entrance. The hotelkeeper, G. S. Erb, was ready for Oscar and sent a bellboy, who wore a sunflower in his buttonhole and an embarrassed look on his face, to show him to his room. Wilde took his midday meal in his room. while many ladies in the hotel dining room wore lilies in their hair, hoping the famous guest would join them.
Next on Wilde's busy agenda was an afternoon visit with LDS President John Taylor at his home, the Gardo House, at 70 East South Temple. Formerly the Amelia Palace, named in honor of one of Brigham Young's wives, the Gardo House was one of the finest homes in the valley. Oscar later reported to Londoners, "When [Brigham Young] died the present president of the Mormons stood up in the Tabernacle and said that it had been revealed to him that he was to have the Amelia Palace, and that on this subject there were to be no more revelations of any kind!" The Gardo House was a rococo masterpiece sparing no expense with elaboration inside and out and boasting bay windows, balconies, balustrades, colonnaded porches, railings, soft carpets, elegant furniture, statuary in nooks, and oil paintings. Oscar praised President Taylor for his fine aesthetic judgment, and Taylor, although considering the Gardo House "the acme of bad taste, " accepted the compliment with grace. The two then went on a tour of Salt Lake, Oscar seeing as much as possible and being seen as little as possible. Much to the disappointment of those who did see him, he was not wearing knee breeches.
One of Salt Lake's main attractions was the Tabernacle near the unfinished Mormon Temple. Oscar commented that it was the shape of a soup-kettle and the decorations were suitable for a jail. He later wrote to Mrs. Bernard Beere, "The Opera House at Salt Lake is an enormous affair about the size of Covent Garden, and holds with ease fourteen families. They sit like this: and are very, very ugly." In fact. Salt Lake provided him with the rare opportunity of seeing the ugliest women he had ever seen, he recounted later to a Denver reporter.
The Deseret News had predicted that the theater would "doubtless be crowded with curiosity seekers and those who love to breathe the poetic hatmosphere, aving a heye and a hear for the Beautiful." And it was very crowded. One member of the audience recalled that when Oscar came out onto the stage in his medieval costume—the black velvet coat, vest, and knee breeches, ruffles at the throat, breast, and wrists, black stockings, and low pumps with pointed toes and silver buckles—he appeared disconcerted for a moment at the array of young men on the front row each adorned with an enormous sunflower.
Oscar gave his "Art and the Handicraftsman" lecture, stating that the artist and the workman should combine forces and talents to make beautiful decorations for the home. These workmen, as well as oneself, should be surrounded with beautiful objects that inspire creativity. He then described the beauties of Italy: the art and the architecture left from antiquity and the Renaissance. Explaining the different purposes of the landscape painter and the decorator, he went on to say that the Aesthetic Movement in England, with the work of such men as William Morris, strove to enhance the beauties of objects by ornamentation as had been done in Italy. Americans also had the surroundings and abilities to create beauty. All good art is honest and conscientious and should be encouraged; therefore, one should not make cheating, dishonest designs. Paper should not be made to look like marble, nor should jewelry be hollow. All this shows an age of sham. He was glad to hear that cast iron, used in America largely for fences and balconies, was being smashed with rocks by boys in the street. Americans might avoid such vandalism by producing beautiful art.
The audience listened with politeness, uncertainty, and some astonishment. The delivery occupied fifty minutes and was recognized with short-lived applause. What a disappointment to hope for a wonderful, humorous lecture and instead hear a strange-looking man mutter a memorized speech all in one breath, with only a definite beginning and end, sentences running into each other! Oscar had obviously lost his enthusiasm for lecturing long before he reached Salt Lake City.
The Deseret News called his ideas absurd and unoriginal. The Herald said he lacked expression, and while his words themselves were beautiful, "there was no attempt at enthusiasm, and the only impression one could obtain of the lecturer himself from the lecture was that he was an enthusiast without enthusiasm. "
Later, the Herald reporter, having put aside prejudices, went to interview Oscar who, having been reprimanded for his lecture by the Deseret News as well as other papers across the United States, told him, "I am quite conscious that much of what I say may be annoying but, after all I came to say it and so long as audiences with such forbearance and good breeding allow me to strut my brief hour upon the stage, I should be singularly stupid not to take advantage of my hobbies."
It is obvious that although Oscar was a mediocre lecturer at best, he was no fool. He confessed modestly to the Herald reporter that he had never studied elocution and had not become famous or known at all for his public-speaking ability before embarking upon his American lecture tour. Yet he was perhaps the best crowd-drawing lecturer in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. No matter where he went, audiences flocked to gawk at his odd clothing and hear him ramble on about Beauty. What was his attraction? Perhaps it was merely the fact that he dared to attract attention to himself by dressing and behaving unconventionally in a period when unconventionality was synonymous with scandal. He was repulsive yet attractive.
The residents of Salt Lake City had known what to expect because of the publicity that had preceded him, but this did not detract from his appeal to their curiosity. They came to see him in his old-fashioned clothing and hear him "violate every rule of rhetoric. " Then why were they so hard on him when he splendidly lived up to all their expectations? Perhaps they did not approve of his apparently indecent morals as displayed in his poetry, or he wasn't as witty as they had hoped, or he was too pompous, or they just disliked being thought ugly.
There was only one good review of Oscar's lecture. An editorial in the valley's non-Mormon paper, the Salt Lake Tribune, on April 13, 1882, reprimanded "John Taylor's Mormon Critics" for their unjust dislike of the aesthetic poet. The Tribune's editor had found nothing wrong with the delivery of the lecture or in the aesthete's appearance: "It is for the people and through the people that he would re-awaken the love of art." Who else could fill up an hour in such an enjoyable manner? Few others besides "the Oscah!" Perhaps this was just another way for the gentile citizens of Salt Lake to oppose the Mormon residents, which they did whenever possible in this period.
Quietly Oscar left Salt Lake City. "Fortunately . . . , he has come and gone unmolested," the Herald reported, referring to the earlier schemes of the native young ladies to entertain the aesthete. His next stop was Denver, where the Denver Tribune had this to say about Oscar's lecture there:
So the Mormon journalists were not the only people to criticize the Sunflower Apostle, although they tended to be more severe in their assesssment of him.
Wilde's visit to Salt Lake City did not make a great or lasting impression. Always the object of criticism and satire, he took it all in stride and continued to lecture successfully to sold-out audiences. Although Salt Lake residents did not like "the Oscah," they did have a chance to see and hear one of the most prominent celebrities of the era. If they felt that they had wasted their money to gaze upon the "singularly deep young man," they did it willingly.
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