by Paul R. Spitzzeri
Previous posts here have looked at appearances in Los Angeles of the traveling Black performance troupes, the famous Fisk Jubilee Singers, who appeared in January 1876, and the well-known Original George Minstrels, who were in the Angel City that June. As with other companies from other parts of the country, performing in Los Angeles became more common as the small city underwent its first boom, which lasted from the late Sixties through the mid Seventies.
The population more than doubled in the first half of the latter decade, obviously affording larger audiences for more sophisticated and professional presentations of concerts, plays and other forms of entertainment. Moreover, with the Merced Theatre and Turnverein Hall (the venue built by a German club), there were venues that were sufficient enough to accommodate these performers and handle the crowds that were keen to see them, though, when the next boom came in the 1886-1888 period (during the mayoral administration of William H. Workman), the theaters proved to be lacking.

What is notable about the appearance of the Fisk and Georgia troupes, of course, is that they were entirely comprised of African-Americans, and, while there were certainly local Black residents who enjoyed their presentations, the audiences were mostly white and, press reports indicated that both companies were highly regarded and much appreciated. It is also worth remarking that, in the first half of 1876, Los Angeles was undergoing the bust that inevitably followed the boom, but its effects would only worsen over what nationally was known as the Long Depression, beginning in 1873 and stretching through the end of the decade.
This post looks at another African-American company that performed in Los Angeles during that last portion of the Seventies, Callender’s Georgia Minstrels. The organization was established in 1872 by a white saloon owner, Charles Callender, after he took over Sam Hague’s Slave Troupe of Georgia Minstrels.

The troupe became very popular and so the Callender name was retained when it was acquired in 1878 by Jack Haverly, who ran a large show of white performers in blackface. Hired as a road agent was a young Daniel Frohman, who worked with his brother Gustave and who went on to become a prominent theatrical producer in New York City and then a partner, in the 1910s, with Adolph Zukor in the Famous Players Film Company, a predecessor of Zukor’s Paramount Pictures. In 1882, the Frohmans acquired the Georgia Minstrels from Haverly, divided it into three ensembles and were dominant in the Black minstrel field.
In 1878-1879, the Callender company engaged on a tour of the West, including stops in Salt Lake City, Carson City, Sacramento and San Francisco before coming to Los Angeles. The Los Angeles Express of 7 February informed readers that,
Callender’s Georgia Minstrels, under the management of J.H. Haverly, with six end men and six banjoists—twenty members in all—will open at Turnverein Hall next Wednesday evening for a series of three nights. We acknowledge a call from Mr. D. Frohman, agent of the troupe.
Under the heading of “Fun Ahead,” the next day’s Los Angeles Star (which observed that Frohman was staying at the Pico House hotel, built a decade before, by former Governor Pío Pico, who had African ancestry), noted that the troupe had a half-dozen “song-and-dance men,” in addition to those its rival mentioned and said that Haverly’s management was “good evidence of merit.”

An Express ad, also of the 8th, blared that there was “A GREAT EVENT!” for the dates of the 12th, 13th and 14th, with “THE GREAT TROUPE OF GENUINE NEGROES!” who were part of a company dating back to the late Sixties and in their first local appearance after a successful run at San Francisco’s Bush Street Theatre. Also declared to be “Genuine Plantation Negroes!” and the “Crowned Monarchs of Minstrelsy!”, the troupe were said to be “Original, Unrefined and Unequalled!” and offering “NEW AND UNIQUE FEATURES, ORIGINAL DIVERSIONS, [AND] UPROARIOUS SPECIALTIES!” Lastly, there was a quote from the New York Herald that “they far exceed their white imitators.”
In Anaheim, then still part of Los Angeles, that town’s Gazette commented on the appearance of an Angel City pastor who was delivering an oration there, with the paper remarking that the sparsity of audients was disappointing. It added, “we should hail a large attendance at such lectures as a good indication of a taste of higher entertainment,” though whether the minister was an entertainer is an obvious question, “that that which negro minstrels and Terpsichorean [musical] gatherings afford.”

On the 10th, the Star made the observation that “the Georgia Minstrels were attended by nearly 30,000 people during their four week’s season lately in San Francisco,” which reflects how much larger the northern metropolis was than Los Angeles and how different the cultural scene there was, though that would change dramatically in ensuing decades. Elsewhere, the paper commented,
The performances of the Georgia Minstrels . . . will be of more than ordinary merit, the vocal music and characterizations of the troupe being of a high order. The company has never before been in Los Angeles, although they have been giving entertainments for thirteen years. Their last season in San Francisco was a very successful one. The Daily Alta [a San Francisco paper] says: “The verdict was one of unequivocal approval, and the company is the best one in its line we have seen. The six banjos is [sic] an imposing feature.
The next day’s number of the Star reported that the twenty performers comprising “the genuine article” and “the finest troupe now in the country” were in town and were to debut at the Turnverein the following night. The Los Angeles Herald added, however, that the company, which arrived by train the previous day, went that afternoon to San Bernardino for a performance, which may have been very recently added.

When the Minstrels returned, noted the Express of the 12th, it employed a common tactic by such groups, which was that “the band . . . paraded the streets this afternoon” and the paper approvingly remarked that “they make a fine display in their uniforms and produce good music.”
As a visceral reminder of the always-present, if generally more covert compared to other parts of the country, especially the South, racism that existed in the City of the Angels, an ad in the Star of the 11th promoted a “Grand Entertainment and Ball” to be held at the Turnverein on Washington’s Birthday, the 22nd, by the Confidence Engine Company Number 2, one of the volunteer firefighting companies in town (a professional department was several years in the future).

The first of three parts of the program, including local musicians and performers, was a “Great Minstrel” performance from “The Only Original Kullender’s Kulored Kompany,” a play on the Georgia Minstrels now in the area, with the initials of this blackface ensemble comprising that of the white domestic terrorist organization, the Ku Klux Klan, or K.K.K. Obviously, these white firefighters felt eminently comfortable that this blatantly racist display of humor was going to attract attendees and gave little, if any thought, to what this would mean for the Black residents of the city.
When the Herald reviewed the event in its edition of the 25th, it opined that “take the performance for all in all, we can truthfully describe it as quite clever.” The comedians who were the “end men” were said to be “up in their business” and “some of the jokes were open to the suspicion of being new,” while older ones were deemed “decidedly good.” As for the crowd, it was reported that “the audience,” presumably all-white, “thoroughly enjoyed the extravaganza.”

As for the Express, it offered that the firefighting minstrels’ performance “was entertaining and up to the average of professionals.” As for the humor, the paper felt that they were mostly of vintage (it used the adulthood standard of 21 years or older), though “they were select and of long popularity. George E. Gard, soon to be the police chief and then county sheriff, was singled out for his performance and the finale was “an excellent burlesque and left the audience in convulsions of laughter.”
While there was a rumor that the Minstrels intended to stay a couple of days longer with more shows, it adhered to the three-day schedule. The Valentine’s Day edition of the Express offered a brief review of the prior evening, with the Turnverein said to be crowded:
The entertainment was a perfect success and proved a carnival of fun from beginning to end. There were many good jokes and some poor ones, but they most generally escaped the infamy of being stale. The singing and instrumental performances were extraordinarily fine.
The next day’s number of the Star offered its take on the final performance of the troupe before it left the city and commented, with reference to the Long Depression’s soporific effect,
The closing performance of this excellent troupe was given last evening, and it is safe to say that the company is far superior to any minstrel band that has heretofore appeared in Los Angeles. It was their first visit. The times are very hard [economically], and no on would have been surprised if they had not drawn full houses; but the large building, Turnverein Hall, was crowded each night. They go; and take lots of cash with them; but most of the people who enjoyed their music and laughed over their jokes think that a dollar in fun is as good as a dollar in money; so it is an even thing after all.
What we don’t know, unlike with press coverage of the 1876 minstrel shows, is whether there was a substantial Black audience for this trio of performances and, given that there was a decline in population in the Angel City during the financial depression in the last half of the decade, it stands to reason that the African-American community experienced a decline in residents during the period.

There were likely at least some Los Angeles Latinos in the crowds at the trio of shows, as the sole Spanish-language newspaper in town, La Crónica, which was later published by Thomas W. Temple, eldest child of Antonia Margarita Workman and F.P.F. Temple, offered a glowing review of the Minstrels to its readers, informing them that,
The Georgia Minstrels gave their farewell performance last night, drawing a large crowd, as they had to their two previous shows. Their excellent performances will leave a lasting and pleasant memory in Los Angeles. Some of their vocal and instrumental pieces are truly remarkable, and the humor they sprinkled throughout some of the songs delighted the audience.
As praiseworthy as the company’s performances were, however, just a month later, a white blackface minstrel troupe came to the Angel City and appeared at Turnverein Hall. This was the Barlow, Wilson, Primrose & West’s Minstrels, whose principals, George Primrose and Billy West, were formerly with Haverly’s United Mastodon Minstrels and left in 1877 over pay disputes, forming their own company with Milt Barlow and George Wilson.

The Herald of 15 March asserted that “the present Minstrel dispensation is the finest that has been accorded in this city in our time,” while it added that “the Georgia Minstrels were simply a faint and unsatisfactory adumbra [a faint representation] of this artistic and incomparable troupe.” Feeling that these masters of the “cork comique,” meaning blackface, were to be amply supported by Angelenos, the paper exhorted its readers, “give these thorough lads an old time send off!”
After seeing British minstrels, who did not perform in blackface, Primrose and West decided to cut back the use of it in their shows. Once Barlow departed in 1882, the duo eliminated it entirely as they focused on contact that mocked and satirized the rich, with comedic takes on fox hunting, tennis and yachting, and it became a successful template for them.

Meanwhile, minstrel shows by African-Americans or whites in blackface remained a staple of vaudeville, not to mention amateur theatricals and events, for many more decades and in the new medium of film in its early years, most notably in 1927’s The Jazz Singer, starring Al Jolson and which was the first “talkie” motion picture.
As we mark Black History Month, this look at African-American minstrel entertainers is reflective of the complex matter of this form of entertainment, juxtaposed with white blackface performers, while also notable because of the growth of Los Angeles meaning that more traveling troupes were making the Angel City a necessary stop while on tours through California and the West.
While reading this post, I found myself wondering how the troupe then managed to survive financially. In the latter half of the 1870s, the population of Los Angeles was still under 10,000; and aside from Turnverein Hall, there were other venues such as the Merced Theater and the Pico House, not to mention those smaller vaudeville houses and makeshift performance spaces.
If we focus on Turnverein Hall – the venue frequently mentioned in this post – which had about 400 seats in the late nineteenth century, the numbers seem to be very tight. With ticket prices ranging from 50 cents to $1.50, let us assume an average price of $1.00 and an 80% attendance rate. The total gross income for three nights would be:
$1.00 × 400 × 80% × 3 = $960.
For a minstrel troupe of roughly 20 performers, plus musicians and support staff, the total headcount would have been about 30 people. Those three performances in Los Angeles likely required at least a week of travel and preparation time, and the basic wage in that era was about $20 per week per person. That would amount to approximately $600 in payroll alone.
Additional expenses would have included meals, lodging, transportation, theater rental, costumes, local taxes, and advertising. Under such circumstances, there appears to have been very little room for profit; even breaking even would have been difficult, especially if ticket sales fell short of expectations.
For these reasons, it seems unlikely that they could rely heavily on Los Angeles for financial success. At most, Los Angeles would have served as a stopover on their touring circuit. More likely, they depended on larger markets such as San Francisco, Sacramento, or booming mining towns like Virginia City, where they could perform in larger auditoriums with more seats, reach broader audiences, and extend their engagements over additional nights.