On March 13, 1869, during his three-year trip in Europe, Farny registered in Venice, Italy. Also registering that same day was former Attorney General of Ohio, General George McCook and his family. It’s not clear if he was traveling with the McCook family or not. Nor is it clear how long he stayed, but it seems Venice made some kind of impact on Farny, because eleven years later, he and recent arrival to Cincinnati artist Matt Morgan, who’d become quick friends with Farny, proposed the Cincinnati Zoological Society that they recreate an evening in Venice at the Zoological Gardens (later the Cincinnati Zoo). The first official news broke June 9th, 1880, in The Cincinnati Daily-Star:
It was the Zoological Society that had asked for a new attraction for summer nights at the zoo some months earlier in 1880. Apparently, the ambitious undertaking proposed by the artists inspired the Zoological officals and they accepted the proposal three days later on June 12th.
To meet the objectives, Farny and Morgan had to oversee the construction of several fake buildings that would reach heights of forty feet. The background screen stretched across the lake would extend 400 feet and rise 50 feet. There would be instrumental music on a floating platform and electric lights, a rather new technology, that would light the scene. Gondolas were provided for paying customers to travel along a canal. The New York Times noted two days later on June 11th that something similar had been done in London, but nothing at this scale.
So busy was Farny preparing for the event, that he abandoned his former plans for a sketching trip, instead remaining at his Pike studio working through the design of the huge background screen, along with the buildings. To help meet the end-of-summer deadline for the project, an architect (Mr. Williams), a scenic artist (Mr. Harvey), and painters (Mahler & Pepe) were retained.
Among the tableaux scenes that visitors to “Venice” would witness were groups of people forming scenes from the “Merchant of Venice”, “Othello”, and “Stradella”. It was expected that all the financial investment would easily exceed $5000. Thankfully, Andrew Erkenbrecher, a man considered the founder of the zoo, guaranteed to protect the Zoological Society from loss.
As opening day approached, Farny and Morgan placed a model of the upcoming Venetian spectacle in Wiswell’s window to generate excitement:
The opening evening of August 23rd did not disappoint. The reviews were outstanding. Unfortunately, as complex creations go sometimes, one big thing went awry. This article explains what happened to the musicians, who were stationed in the lake on the floating deck. Note the writer suggestively poking fun at Farny’s girth as well:
While the remainder of the event seemingly went very well, there was one tragedy: There seems to be no photographs, sketches or drawings left from the Venice event; or at least no one has found any. The only sketch I’ve seen related to “Visions of Venice” is a sketch portraying the collapse of the musicians into the water, thanks to Greg Hand’s research: https://www.cincinnatimagazine.com/article/that-night-the-cincinnati-zoo-became-venice-and-a-famed-artist-became-a-lifeguard/,
The last days of the “Visions of Venice” in early september were less than spectactular, as reports indicate bad weather had arrived. On September 5th it was announced that the event would be postponed indefinitely due to bad weather. By September 14th it was back on, only to be again postponed indefinitely on September 15th.
The waning summer nights seems to have spelled the end of Farny and Morgan’s vision. However, there was one piece of business that still needed to be settled. The Society of the Suppression of Music had not forgotten how Farny, one of its own members, had so cavalierly ‘saved’ two musicians on August 23rd. As reported on September 30th:
The “Vision’s of Venice” partnership between Henry Fanry and Matt Morgan must have gone well. In December of 1880 they combined forces again, this time a arranging a tableaux and concert charity event for an old folks home in Clifton. On December 11, an article in the Cincinnati Commerial highlighted their work and friendship:
Matt Morgan and Farny would be linked together in various ways over the years, from attending events, to working on projects.
Many years later, in 1931, Frank Grayson shared the story of the “Visions of Venice” event. According to Grayson, Henry Farny considered “Visions of Venice” one of the highlights of his career, but, per Grayson’s telling of it, Farny enjoyed the aftermath of the musician’s drop into the water. Apparently, Farny’s version of the musicians watery fate was an oft told story when Farny and kindred spirits gathered in front of the soda fountain at Bodemer’s on Race Street. According to Grayson, Farny’s story went as follows:
“I led one of those birds to the barroom. I was in need of first aid myself. This individual was the trombone player, and he had his sliphorn under his arm. He had bunions on both of his feet, and every time he took a step a geyser of water would spurt through the holes cut in his shoes. Every time he saw that water come out he would bellow, ‘Ach, I’m drowned yet!’ He was positively hysterical. But the funniest part was to come. When the fellows began to get warmed up internally, they started to orate, which seemingly, is the invevitable urge of the remedy which was copiously supplied that eventful night. Finally, the bass fiddle player, who had been drying his big instrument with a bandana handkerchief, stood it in a corner, glared about him and proclaimed that if he knew who the fellow was who built that boat he would macerate him and fee him to the alligators. All the time a man in working clothes had been standing near the end of the bar and he was grinning broadly. When he heard that proclamation he sidled over toward the door, yelled. ‘I’m the guy who built that boat, you lunikhead!’ and away he ran. I wouldn’t have missed that night for all the money in the mint.”
