From Wizard Oil to The Wizard of Oz: How Chicago’s Grand Opera House and a "Miracle" Medicine Made Stage History
- Chicago Movie Tours
- Oct 7
- 6 min read
Updated: Nov 14
Decades before Hollywood’s The Wizard of Oz, Chicago’s Grand Opera House staged its own hit version—funded, in part, by a patent medicine called Wizard Oil.
It's January 1872, barely 3 months after the Great Chicago Fire. Despite the frigid weather, rebuilding is in full force. Hotels, churches, offices, banks, museums, and theatres begin to rise skyward.
Over at 546 N. Clark St. (now site of the Daley Center), brothers John and Lysander Hamlin are doing their part to facilitate the city's rebuilding process.
Using family wealth, the Hamlin brothers, ages 65 and 63, have just forked over $130,750 (about $3.4 million today) to purchase property on which they would build Chicago's Grand Opera House—a theatre that would soon become a cultural landmark.
The following story of Chicago’s Grand Opera House reveals how the city’s resilience after the Great Fire and the Hamlin family's entrepreneurial vision shaped a stage history that would give the world its first musical version of The Wizard of Oz—decades before Hollywood and MGM made it famous.
Nine Lives of Chicago's Grand Opera House
The Grand Opera House, which sat about 1,500 patrons, boasts a colorful history. The building served as a billiard hall, beer garden, and vaudeville house before settling into its status as a theatre in 1880.
The transformation from billiard hall to beer garden must have been fascinating for regular patrons. They would've watched workers replace the 30+ billiards tables with an elegantly carpeted ladies' gallery and an additional room that mimicked
"scenery of mountain and field, rivulets, bridges, cascades, an old mill or two, a 24-foot waterfall, miniature lake, and other rural work on an expensive scale" (Chicago Tribune, July 18, 1875).
A 24-foot waterfall and a miniature lake—indoors!
Equally interesting, in 1912, composer-playwright George M. Cohan—he of "Yankee Doodle Dandy" fame—would co-lease the theatre from the Hamlin brothers and rename it after himself.
In this photo, it's appropriate, I suppose, that a "grand ol' flag" would hang beneath the theatre's new name: George M. Cohan’s Grand Opera House.
Perhaps more confusing, later, the same building was known briefly as the Four Cohans, which you can see via the marquee in this photo.
Here's a final piece of Chicago's Grand Opera House history:
On June 16, 1902, a stage musical based on a brand new and very popular children's book premiered there.
We're Off to See the Wizard (Oil)
In 1902, while John Hamlin's sons Harry and Fred were managing the Grand Opera House, they were presented with a musical comedy for the stage. The production was based on L. Frank Baum's book The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, published in Chicago only two years prior.
According to an unnamed contemporary, the Hamlin family “knew little about musical comedy, but they thought anything with the name ‘Wizard’ in it should do well” (Chicago Tribune, Apr 1, 1958).
And they thought this for good reason.
The Hamlins, we learned above, used their family wealth to purchase the Grand Opera House. All that money, if you can believe it, came from a patent medicine cure-all called Hamlin's Wizard Oil.
Made of 50–70% alcohol and advertised heavily across the Midwest, Hamlin's Wizard Oil claimed to cure a variety of common ailments, including:
rheumatism
neuralgia
headache
toothache
diphtheria
sore throat
sprains
bruises
menstrual cramps
diarrhea
Fun fact: you can still find Hamlin's Wizard Oil bottles, song books, advertising posters, and trading cards for sale on eBay.
It’s no wonder the Hamlins believed a musical with “Wizard” in the title would be a hit—the name had already made them wealthy.
The family's instincts were right: the play was a success.
A Musical Oz in Chicago: Sufficiently Spicy
The Wizard of Oz musical extravaganza was scheduled to open at Chicago's Grand Opera House on June 12, 1902. But the show was not ready.
It was postponed two days. Then, it was postponed another two days. Surprisingly, rather than deterring audiences, the back-to-back delays stirred interest.
When The Wizard of Oz musical finally opened on June 16, 1902, the house was packed. Reports describe a "huge well-dressed crowd" with people "standing in the aisle at rear and behind the last row of seats."
Even L. Frank Baum attended the show and, afterward, addressed the audience:
"Kind friends, thank you for your enthusiasm. It is heart-warming. You have been generous enough to call for the author, but I do not need to remind you that he is only one of many whose efforts you are enjoying tonight. [...] All of us are happy you have enjoyed the show, and we hope you and your friends will be back for a second helping."
Indeed, people did return for "a second helping," as Baum put it.
The show consistently sold out and even broke attendance records for the Hamlin-run theatre. By the time production closed in Chicago on September 20, 1902, 185,000 people had seen the show. Its box office receipts totaled $160,000 (about $5 million today).
Helping matters, I imagine, ticket prices were affordable: they ranged from $0.25 to $1.50, or only $8 to $50 today.
In addition to the sold-out Chicago crowds and impressive box office returns, the production's stage effects, set design, costumes, and marketing were touted in reviews and in conversation around the city.
First, based on contemporary descriptions, the musical's Poppy scene must've been dazzling. A large gauze curtain, well-positioned lights, and magic lantern slides produced the illusion of rain, snow, and sunbeams as the main characters "fell asleep" onstage. A similar effect was used for the cyclone at the start of Act 1.
Second, audiences and critics consistently applauded the performances and costumes of Fred Stone and David Montgomery, who played Scarecrow and Tin Woodman respectively.
Scarecrow wore a blue shirt and blue pants, both stuffed with real straw. Each night, his face was painted with pink and black greasepaint to remove Stone's actual eyebrows and create Scarecrow's face stitches.
Montgomery's Tin Woodman wore an actual tin hat and a "biblike collar" around his head. Every night, his face was painted with white greasepaint, with streaks of black around his eyes, nose, and mouth, and a tinge of red across his lips.
Onstage, Stone's "fluid movements and rubbery legs" delighted audiences while Montgomery's "broad grin and creaky movements" rendered his character "funny and endearing."
Part of their appeal no doubt, Stone and Montgomery had significant onstage chemistry: they had worked together as a vaudeville team before co-starring in Chicago's The Wizard of Oz musical.
Finally, in addition to the production's stage effects, set design, and costumes, the play's accompanying literature and vibrant posters clearly enticed Chicago theatre audiences and critics.
Newspapers published teasers and short articles about the show. An 8-page promotional booklet including cast member photos and bios was also available.
Moreover, this musical version of The Wizard of Oz was advertised as appealing to both children and parents—"sufficiently spicy and alluring to engross a sophisticated Chicago audience."
Oz after Chicago...
After its stint in Chicago, The Wizard of Oz musical extravaganza toured through the upper Midwest. Eventually, it moved to Broadway, where it ran for 300 performances at the Majestic Theatre. A touring company would soon follow.
In the transition from Chicago to New York, most of the original cast remained, including David Montgomery and Fred Stone, who had, of course, been key to the show's success as the Tin Woodman and Scarecrow.
To be fair, I've only skimmed the surface of this Chicago production of The Wizard of Oz.
For those seeking more information about the musical production, you might read Part 1 of Mark Evan Swartz's book Oz before the Rainbow: L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz on Stage and Screen to 1939. Fortunately, a great deal of primary and secondary sources about the play are available, many of which are referenced within.
Comments