CNT/OCT-DEC-2012
Grand Dame of Historic Wooden Carousels, Marianne Stevens, Passes at 83
Marianne Stevens with a beautiful Military Muller carousel horse in old paint.
ROSWELL, NM – A pillar in, if not grande dame of, the close-knit world of antique wooden carousel lovers and aficionados, Marianne Stevens, passed away peacefully Tuesday morning. She was 83. Marianne helped to raise awareness of the beautiful American treasures that are our antique hand-carved wooden carousels from the late 1800s-early 1900s. She was instrumental in the founding of the NCA and the ACS and she was also co-author of “Painted Ponies”, likely the most noted book on antique wooden carousels ever written.
The following remembrance of Marianne is from long-time, dear friends, and fellow historic wooden carousel lovers, Rol and Jo Summit.
In Fond Remembrance:
Marianne Stevens
January 7, 1929 – September 11, 2012
By Rol and Jo Summit
Something remarkable was occurring in the mid-sixties of the last century, some fifty years ago. A few people, unknown to one another and scattered throughout the United States, had immersed themselves in the history and culture of the carousel. Among the most determined and dedicated of these agents of the renaissance was a housewife and mother of three in New Mexico, Marianne Stevens.
Historic carousel aficionado pioneers, Rol Summit, Marianne Stevens, and Jo Summit
We first met Marianne in the summer of 1969 while searching for examples of horses carved by M.C. Illions, an artist extolled by Fred Fried in his epic 1964 A Pictorial History of the Carousel. She was already offering Illions horses for sale. And she was in active communication with Gray Tuttle, gathering his photographs of most of the merry-go-rounds on the Eastern Seaboard. During her subsequent visits to Southern California Marianne and Jo would stay up nights poring over those collections, establishing an innate vision of the subtle, distinguishing landmarks of each factory style. Marianne was incredibly intense and blessed with a seemingly photographic memory that seized and hung on to each new observation.
Fred and Mary Fried were the wellspring of formal research in those early years and they extended congenial welcome as the far-flung fans began to gather into a community. In 1972, when the Frieds and Barbara Fahs Charles proposed to organize the fledglings, Marianne became a co-founder, along with Bill and Marion Dentzel, the Summits and Gray and Judy Tuttle. The National Carousel Roundtable (later Association) was born. Ironically, Marianne also founded The American Carousel Society (ACS) with Charlotte Dinger five years later, representing collectors and dealers in a break from the whole-machine conservation emphasis of the NCA.
Marianne Stevens was a pioneering historian, collector, restoration specialist, dealer, lecturer and writer. She contributed articles to the NCA Merry-go-Roundup, Marge Swenso’s Carousel Art, the ACS Newsletter and The Carousel News & Trader. She is the co-author, with William Manns and Peggy Shank, of the encyclopedic Painted Ponies: American Carousel Art. She dealt in several operating carousels, including Greenfield Village, (Dearborn, MI), Shoreline Village in Long Beach, CA and Peppermint Park In her home city of Roswell. Far beyond the part-time involvement of the rest of us in the field, for Marianne carousels were the central passion in her life.
Marianne’s erstwhile peripatetic mobility was slowed and eventually severely restricted by neuropathic foot pain over the past five years, and macular degeneration dimmed her ultra-sharp eyes. She could no longer scope out a snapshot or maneuver a computer screen but the steel-trap memory and sharp, edgy authority never faltered. Nor did her intense involvement with selected friends and colleagues.
The carousel community, born and revitalized in the past half-century, has lost one of its most vital, wise and cherished founders. We will sorely miss our dear friend.
– Rol and Jo Summit, Flying Horses
MARIANNE STEVENS TRIBUTE GALLERY:
The Carousel News & Trader printed an additional tribute to Marianne in the December 2012 issue. I did one final column for her “Notes from Marianne…”
It is amazing how some people can become an intimate part of your life so quickly. I will always wish we had one more long, long carousel chat. This was my tribute – filling in her column in the magazine one last time.
Notes from Marianne…
Guest written by Roland Hopkins
“This Better Be Important – It’s Derby Day!”
Marianne with her Looff menagerie carousel while it ran in Long Beach. Once at Playland, the carousel resides in San Francisco again the The Children’s Discovery Museum.
Yeah, I would say that this is important – and not an easy column to start – for obvious reasons, and one not so obvious maybe. Needless to say, I will be filling in this month. Cliche or not, all I can think is, “Damn, time goes by fast.” But, it doesn’t really. It just seems so when it is gone. Especially when something good is gone – which I guess would make sense, since to me, it is the sprinkles of good stuff that get you through all the other #%*@.
Marianne Stevens was many, many things – but most of all – Marianne was good stuff.
She was an intimidating figure… but only until you said “hello”. Then, to most, she was a friend. And for me, a confidant, an inspiration, and in very short time – family. Marianne was a straight shooter, and she was not afraid to shoot. That may sound like more cliches, but it’s just so true. I love people like that. And Marianne was a very beautiful, but very tough woman. I’m not sure that all men appreciate the latter, but I love that, too.
She was incredibly smart, talented and humble. I think it is never losing the humble part that is the key to the heights she reached in the first two.
It seems not too long ago that I’d have to think twice before spelling carousel. Then along came this magazine, and with an issue to make every month, I had to learn fast. I did the best I could. After a few months, a few issues – maybe a year – I got a call… “You’re doing a nice job.”
I’m sure the call was a little more than that, but that’s all I remember. It’s all I needed to remember at that point. I’d certainly been spelling carousel long enough to know who had just called me. It was Marianne Stevens. I’m sure I found Dan where ever he was and passed along the message. (I don’t think it’s any great secret that a few folks in the carousel world were a little skiddish when they heard that the magazine was moving to Southern California.)
Marianne Stevens just called me to tell me I was doing a nice job. That felt pretty damn good. So good, that I decided it was time to push more and try to do better. Not that I wasn’t trying before… I had impressed Marianne Stevens with an issue. Now I had to do that every month.
Again, I don’t recall exactly when, but it would have been few months after that call. I found out that Marianne had made it out here for (her last) Carousel West at Asilomar. After she gone home to Roswell, I heard that she spent some time very close by, and even stopped by Griffith Park one day – just 15 minutes from me. Damn, I had missed a chance to meet Marianne Stevens.
As is human nature, I would love to have blamed others for that missed opportunity – but the blame was really on me and I knew it. I had not gotten to know Marianne yet. I was still pretty new to the carousel world, but I try to listen and pay attention, and I knew I really missed something when I missed meeting Marianne. That would not happen again.
Not long after, something came up in an article that only Marianne might know the answer to. I called the Summits, but this time, instead of asking them to “pass a note” for me, I asked if they thought she would mind if I called myself. Rol said he thought she would be fine with that and gave me her number. I gathered what little carousel wits I had in those early days at the magazine, and made the call.
I think the first phone call lasted an hour or more, and right away, I had a new best friend. The second phone call was probably a couple of hours or more, and after that, I had a new family member. With the utmost respect to them all, I was probably much closer to Marianne in just a couple of years than I ever was to either of my real grandmothers. (I’ll guess there are a couple of people reading now who are thinking, “I know what he means”.)
I’m sure it was in the first few phone calls that I convinced Marianne to do a column (probably the third call, knowing me). Not as easy as it might sound – getting Marianne to agree/commit to a column. First of all, I actually had to convince her that her stories were of great interest to us all – or even just her thoughts on things (that modesty factor). And, she had retired from the keyboard. She was not happy about that for sure, but her fingers just didn’t want to do the walking anymore – it was frustrating – she had to stop answering email even.
She could still write by hand, but it was “chicken scratch” she said. “Then write it!” I said.
“No. You don’t want to try to decipher my chicken scratch every month.”
“Yes I do. Are you kidding? Of course I do! It’ll be the first thing I do to start every issue – decipher Marianne’s etchings.”
She laughed and finally said, okay. But, she didn’t want to just fill space either. I promised we would not do that. I mentioned a couple of things we had chatted about that would make for great columns, and told her I would let her know what articles would be in the next issues, and most likely she would have some comments, or a story related to one of the machines being featured.
Original column photo
So began “Notes From Marianne” in the Dec. ‘08 issue. We had lots of fun with her Notes every month. And, not only did it become the first thing I did to start every issue – it actually became the thing that I ‘had to have done’ before I could start any issue.
Marianne knew I did the magazine by myself. She knew what that meant and was my greatest supporter, and without her..? Certainly the issues would not be what they are. Marianne knew that “doing it all by yourself” meant just that, because that is how Marianne did most of it – all by herself. Yup, for a long time, building every issue started with Notes from Marianne. It was my marker. The first thing I would complete. I couldn’t start an issue until I did it. And, then I would not stop until I was done.
Especially with some of the difficult issues – those post-holiday issues in the dead of winter. It always feels like you just did one, and it’s time for another, and sometimes I would really wonder, “How the hell will I pull another issue out of my hat?”
I’ll wager that Marianne heard me say that more than a few times and I wonder if some of those winter issues ever would have gotten done without a swift (requested*) kick from Marianne. (*Marianne never kicked unless you asked her nicely to).
February issues might be the hardest – and in a pinch, one of those became Marianne’s Looff in San Francisco. That turned one of the hardest issues into one of the most fun. I had been holding on to some great pictures of the machine taken by our friend, Emily Bush, that Marianne hadn’t seen yet knowing I would need a cover story one day.
Simply put, Marianne was a great inspiration, and greatest when needed the most. She was really good at that… giving a little push when needed, but never pushing.
A table of photos at the memorial service showing Marianne through the years. What a beautiful woman.
Damn – Now I realize I really didn’t make the magazine alone – I had Marianne. Maybe that’s why the last issue was so hard to get going on… and this one…
And, for a long time, Marianne was always the first to call, right after she got her first-class issue, and she’d get hers before even I would, and she’d tell me what she liked, and why, going through story by story.
Toward the end of the chicken scratch column days, Marianne had her housekeeper type up her notes and send them to me that way. But, her housekeeper’s English no so good, nor was her knowledge of English slang, and Marianne and I had a few really good laughs trying to figure out what this #%*@ word should be.
We talked so long, and so many times about the Boston carousel and the botched opportunity to put an antique in the heart of my home city, that when we needed a column one month, Marianne just said, “Write about the Boston carousel.” I said, “Me?” She said, “Sure. You’ll say what I’d say.” So, I did. She didn’t even want to go over it. Just trusted me.
Only twice did I experience Marianne upset. Once when a word I deciphered was incorrect – I read her every column over the phone after that. And, once when I called her on a Saturday morning. I was fired up about something and did most of the talking. Finally she caught me. Did I know what day it was? Um… Kentucky Derby? Yes, it was “Derby Day!”
As Marianne put it, “Derby Day” was called that for a reason. It was an all day thing for her, from morning through race and after – and Derby Day was her day. And she was stern about this. She was not kidding. I was invading her day and I should have known better.
I got a smile out of it, and so did she I am sure. She would be available Sunday, but Saturday, if not life or death, was her Derby Day. And, with that, whatever I was fired up about had been doused with a smile from Marianne. I asked her who she was betting. She mentioned an irresistible long shot. Is there any other way to bet the Derby?
I only got mad at Marianne once. It was the Sunday after New Year’s. I called in the morning and she did not sound good at all. I asked her what the doctor said, but she had not been, and she had not been feeling too well for a while. She thought it just a flu and told no one. Unacceptable!
My turn to be stern, and I told her I would call her Monday to see how the doctor’s appointment went. She agreed.
In the last year or so, Barbara Williams, Jean Bennett, and Lourinda Bray all helped keep Notes from Marianne going in some fashion or another. And our last chat, much too brief, was about the “green horse”, now Lee Jacoby’s “Diablo”. She truly was an amazing woman, and if you did not know her well enough to know that was true – your loss. And, I was not her only adopted grandson or daughter, (although she would make you feel that way). She had many I am finding out now. As Rol said, maybe the reason there are so few pictures of Marianne, is that she was so fascinating to talk to, you’d forget to take the picture. And, like all of the most fascinating people, not only did Marianne have great things to say, and great stories to tell, she would also pay close attention, and she was a great listener.
I don’t know how, but every issue will still start somehow with Notes from Marianne. You may not see it, but I will.
Illions stander restored by Marianne.
ADDITIONAL TRIBUTES TO MARIANNE:
From Dan’s Desk
By Dan Horenberger
The Passing of Marianne Stevens… The loss of Marianne can’t be put into words. She was without a doubt one of the most knowledgeable people in the carousel world. One of the many great things about her was her willingness to share her knowledge with everyone. She was a great contributor to the magazine since my purchase. I worked personally with her on many projects. Keeping her Looff carousel at Shoreline Village running, then moving it to San Francisco, helping her sell the Carmel carousel to Kennewick, WA, and recently working in Roswell, NM, with her on the carousel she donated to the local zoo. Not that we didn’t butt heads, (boy she wanted the Astroworld carousel before I bought it), but we were always friends and had a great time. Anyone who had ever been around her knows how her stern look would turn into the friendliest smile in the world. She had one of the biggest hearts and was a great person. I will miss her – anyone who knew her will miss her – but the carousel world will miss her more then anyone that we have lost in a long time. When I took over the magazine I knew there would be easy days and hard ones, but no one prepared me for the writing about the loss of dear friends. There has been a lot of that lately. As they say, the carousel world is at a point where life is a lot more taking away than giving. We have to thank and remember people like Marianne who saved so much for us today. Not just with words or time, but by putting their own money on the line to save carousels. We have more about Marianne from Roland and then the Summits on the next pages. If you have anything to write or add yourself about Marianne, please send it in as we will be printing memories and tributes in the December issue.
From the December 2012 Carousel News & Trader Tribute Issue:
A Tribute to the ‘Grande Dame’ of Carousels, Marianne Stevens
The beautiful stage display for Marianne’s memorial service, held October 13 at Waymaker Church in Roswell, NM. Bill Manns photo
(EDITOR’S NOTE: The carousel world lost someone special beyond words in September with the passing of Marianne Stevens. With magazine deadlines and trade shows, we asked friends and readers to submit their thoughts on Marianne for this special December issue. Rol and Jo Summit have contributed pictures for this issue, but their words of remembrance were in the October issue along with mine and the Publisher’s, Dan Horenberger. Marianne touched many people in her life, more than most I’m sure. Here are the thoughts of just some.)
By Bill Manns
Co-Author, Painted Ponies
Photographic portrait of Marianne Stevens at work on a carousel horse. Bill Manns photo
I first meet Marianne at the home of a mutual friend and carousel collector, Tina Veder, in Yonkers, New York, when we got together to write Painted Ponies. I could see she was sizing me up- would I do a book she’d be proud of? She wasn’t easy and always wanted the best. I wondered if she’d be able to streamline her lifetime of research to a level people could understand. We made a plan for me to come to her home in Roswell, NM. We spent a week going over her mammoth collection of photos and files, and in the process began a lifelong friendship. In a short time I thought of her as family. I loved her dearly and can’t explain how much I’ll miss her. In our last conversation, just a week before she passed, she was strong and sharp. I thought I’d be down to see her in a few days. Her health deteriorated rapidly after that call. She was gone within a week. Still hard to believe.
Since her passing I’ve heard many people talk about her being “tough”, I never saw her that way. Marianne had high quality standards, she was intelligent and to the point. All qualities I respect. Another thing was her boundless passion for carousel art. Marianne was raised on Long Island in Great Neck, New York. Her fine art education and love of horses and close proximity to Coney Island lead her into the world of carousel art in the early ‘60s.
She had moved west with her husband, an oilman, to Roswell, New Mexico, around 1950. Marianne was at a serious disadvantage living in Roswell… a long way from the amusement business and parks, found mostly on the east and west coasts. However, by the early ‘70s, she had developed friendships with Southern Californian enthusiasts Jo and Rol Summit, and Bill Dentzel, as well as Gray Tuttle, a South Carolina carousel operator, and there were many others in her quest to uncover the history and acquisition of carousel animals.
In a short while, Marianne was buying complete carousels and selling off the figures to finance her newfound hobby and business. She partnered with Gray Tuttle on many machines, others she tackled on her own. Once with only the help of a high school boy, dismantling a complete carousel in the freezing winter at the defunct Indian Lake Amusement Park in central Ohio. Many times I’ve tried to picture her on an icy ladder unbolting greasy bolts to free up outside row jumpers and somehow still keeping herself, I’m sure, clean. She always kept the prize pieces off the carousels for herself and would sell off the rest.
She had set up her carousel restoration business in the front of the old Roswell Coca Cola plant. People still talk about the carousel lady working at the old Coke plant. With her flourishing business, she was able to build a remarkable Spanish style home for her growing collection. I asked her if she liked being seen as a bit eccentric? She did, and drove several cars that were hard to miss, including an older Rolls Royce, Jaguar, Corvette and Tiffin sports car, all pretty flashy stuff for eastern New Mexico.
Rol and Jo Summit remember their dear friend.
In her dealings, she found a few carousels which were so special that Marianne restored them, always hoping she could preserve them in a permanent location. She was successful several times, including her prized 1906 Looff Carousel that she bought in 1972. It operated on a lease at Shoreline Village starting in 1982 until she sold it to the city of San Francisco, for the Moscone Center, in 1998.
Marianne loved traveling to the ACS conventions and many carousel auctions that were taking place in the ‘80s and early ‘90s. They were her favorite social and carousel events. She never stopped researching and collecting bits and pieces of history on forgotten carousels. She had a remarkable memory and could recall the background on hundreds of machines, and the progression of parks they’d been located in.
Over the past ten years, her dealing period had come to an end, but she did work on refining the dozen or so prize pieces she had in her home, including a few Mullers, two Illions, an early PTC and a Looff, a great S&G armored horse, a Dentzel deer, two lions, plus a few French kiddie figures, and 10 or more great band organ figures.
Marianne was a lot more than a collector and dealer of carousel art. She was an extreme animal lover and major supporter of the Roswell Humane Society. She also loved horses and kept a few on her son’s ranch, even in her later years. Marianne had 3 children, Larry, David and Patricia, and several grandchildren. She loved her family and always made a point of traveling to participate in birthdays and holiday events.
With her passing, another very important pillar in the carousel world is gone. She was the go-to person when you were looking for carousel information. The void she left will never be filled. More importantly, a wonderful, generous, loving friend to so many of us is gone. I never thought of Marianne as the “carousel lady”. To me, she was the lover of so many dogs, horses, and art. She had boundless energy, great humor, strong opinions and was always willing to offer a lending hand. To say I’ll miss her seems like so little. I’ll hold her spirit in my heart till my last days. God bless her.
Marianne Stevens in her Roswell, NM, carousel figure restoration studio.
By Lourinda Bray
Here it is – yet another day when I’ve had a question occur to me while sanding on a pony, and for which I cannot find the answer in any of our carousel books. So, I picked up the phone to give Marianne a call, to see what she’s up to, and ask her what she knows about my question. I’d scrounged around for a piece of paper, and an even more elusive, something with which to write, found my phone book, and had even started looking up her number when I remembered, once again, that this is something I can’t do any more. The habit of decades is very hard to break. Marianne always made it seem like mine was the most important phone visit of her day, and she was always ready with all sorts of information on any queries I might have. She knew so much, and said so much, I learned from the first to take notes as we spoke. I told her one time that no one could know so much off the top of their head, and asked if she was making some of this stuff up. She just laughed, both of us knowing that if any one knew the answer, it was she.
I had the pleasure of several visits to my Studio over the 30 or so years I knew her. She would wander around the animals, making a comment here and there, while I tried to remember it all. The last time she came, she was having a hard time walking, so I pushed her around in one of my rolling chairs. For all she was aching, her spirits were good and her enthusiasm for living was the same. She and I argued about the front leg position on a large PTC roach maned stander that had come from #13, and which she had owned at one time. No quarter was given on either side, so we decided to agree to disagree. Then, she told me she had a chariot side that needed to be in my collection and mounted up on the warehouse wall as the others are. As I was writing out my check, it occurred to me that I never thought to dicker about the price with her. I also knew I didn’t have the moxie to do so either.
During one of our conversations at the 2nd ACS Convention at Long Beach, CA, I asked her how she managed to stay so trim (she always wore pant suits that were so becoming on her). She told me she kept a Thigh Master in her luggage. For some reason I have laughed at that so many times over the years. It was such a nervy question, given a gentle answer, I guess.
What will we do without her quick wit and even quicker access to all that knowledge she was keeping in that extraordinary memory of hers? When I heard of her passing, my first thought was of myself. That I would never again get to hear, “Well hi, Lourinda, how the heck are ya?!” when I called her. And then, I thought how rich heaven had become. Now she has the answer to all those carousel related questions for which we only have speculations. I often think of the carvers and artists who made these animals and paintings, and hope as I work, that when it’s my turn to go home, they will be there to tell me I did a good job. I know Marianne was welcomed and praised for her good deeds and many kindnesses.
Going through my PTC file shortly after the news of her passing, I came across some photos of some of the horses that were on PTC #13. I found one of the armored horse, which has the same body as Pluto, my roach maned stander. As I looked at the leg positions, I said aloud “I win, Marianne. Pluto’s legs are right after all.” Seems to me I heard her respond “Well, maybe so, but you need to borrow my Thigh Master.”
John Caruso with Marianne and her PTC from the picture.
By John Caruso
Like many of us in the carousel world, I first became familiar with Marianne Stevens through her book “Painted Ponies”. Fortunately for me, I got to know her much better during her last years, and although I had meet her a couple of times previously, our friendship actually began with a sample photo in a picture frame I found in the Whitney Museum’s gift shop. I sent a copy of the photo to Barbara Williams, who at the time was the National Carousel Association’s archivist, hoping she could identify it for me. She eventually did and wrote a little sidebar in the NCA’s Merry Go-Roundup with an image of the photo. About a month later. I got a letter from Marianne. saying that she just happened to be the proud owner of the horse in that photo, which was an early horse from the PTC factory. From then on we began to correspond with each other through letters and phone calls, sharing what we knew about carousels.
Marianne, of course, was able to share a lot more with me than I with her. This would last until her death. She would always send me copies of photos she had of carousels that were long gone before I got involved with carousel history, and I, in turn, would send her whatever I found that she didn’t have. We spoke quite often on the phone, sometimes for a couple of hours at a time, talking about anything and everything having to do with carousels. We didn’t always agree on certain issues, but we both respected each other’s views. Most of her stories were always quite fascinating and informative, especially the ones about carousels that are long gone, and ones that most of us know very little about. Sometimes her stories were a little ominous, having to do with things that went on behind the scenes during the early years of the rebirth of carousel art. I would often joke with her by suggesting she write a book and call it Carousel Confidential. Her life, however, was not without a little controversy, but whose life isn’t. It seems like the more time that passes, the more I miss her, and all her many years of involvement with carousels, and just her very humorous and sometimes off beat views on life in general.
In the summer of 2011, Jean Bennett and I had the privilege of spending a little time with Marianne at her home in Roswell, and just from how she decorated it says a lot about her and how she lived her life. Just about everything in it showed impeccable taste. Her carousel collection has some of the finest figures, covering every carving style. She knew what to buy and knew what to hang on to. Although we never really discussed it, I have a feeling she knew she didn’t have much time left, and back in the spring, she decided to give the museum in Burlington, CO, a PTC camel which I had the privilege of sharing a room with when I stayed there. She had it hand delivered by one of her workers and a helper. That was what Marianne liked to do, share what she knew as well as what she had.
Daughter, Patricia, and son, David at the memorial. Photo courtesy of Rol Summit
She kept writing her column for the The Carousel News & Trader as long as she could, until her poor eyesight finally forced her to stop. But, I’m sure everyone who read it is grateful that she did it as long as she did. A couple of months before she entered the hospital for the last time, she bought a PTC chariot side. She sent me photos of it and we both shared our thoughts about what carousel it might be from. It was always a lot of fun trying to solve one of these carousel mysteries, one of many that always keeps popping up in the world of carousels. I find it sort of a weird coincidence that our friendship more or less began and ended with a discussion relating to PTC. Marianne wore many hats. She was a historian, a preservationist, a collector and a dealer, but to people who knew her as well as I got to know her, she was very special. I learned a lot about carousel art from her during her last years, but there is another thing I learned from her – she made me realize that it is possible to grow old with dignity and remain independent as long as possible.
Marianne with a row of jeweled carousel horses.
By Judy and Gray Tuttle
We were saddened to learn of Marianne’s passing. Our sincerest condolences to Marianne’s family.
The carousel world has lost a giant. She shared her extensive knowledge and experiences tirelessly with all of us.
Gray and I have had the good fortune of knowing Marianne since the late sixties. We had many memorable carousel experiences – the trips, exchanges of photos, the deals, all the fun times. We have lost a dear friend.
She will be sorely missed.
By Jean Bennett
Unlike Marianne Stevens, I have only been involved with carousels for about 20 years. I joined both the NCA and the ACS about 1993. I purchased my only carousel horse at an auction in 1998. At the ACS convention in San Francisco later that year, I got up enough courage to show Marianne some photos of it to see if she could help me identify where it came from. Marianne often had a somewhat standoffish expression but was actually very friendly to talk to. She didn’t have an answer for me, but gave me some places to start investigating. I enjoyed talking with her at later conventions and at the Carousel West at Asilomar events.
Jean Bennett, Marianne, and Vicki Vanden Bout have some fun with hats during their 2010 visit to see Marianne.
I was lucky enough to visit her home in Roswell on four occasions. The first time in 2001 she invited me to stay with her, but I didn’t want to impose. We had a nice long talk and then took pictures and visited the carousel at Spring River Park. In 2002, I did spend a night, and the next day happened to be the Belmont Stakes. She told me that I could look at whatever I wanted, but she was going to be watching the festivities all day. In the last few years I was able to share visits to her home (and the long drive from Albuquerque) with Vicki and with John. We all felt so privileged to be able to spend time with her. She generously allowed us to make copies of some photos and shared her vast carousel knowledge with us. She never stopped wanting to learn more about carousel history. She will definitely be missed, even by those who did not know her personally.
By Leah and Peter Farnsworth
We met Marianne at our first ACS Convention in Madison, WI, in 1980. She was so professional and dignified, and had such a great collection, that she seemed intimidating to us. I had just purchased an 1800s Looff outside row stander from the dealer in North Lake, WI, and had only owned it for a week. Its photo was still with the photos of our other carousel horses. A group of us were sitting in a circle of chairs and passing around our photos when Marianne came to sit with us. Then the person next to her handed her my photos. I watched, and when she got to the photo of the Looff, she asked whose photos she had. I walked over and sat next to her. She asked to borrow the photo, and she left to have a conversation with the dealer. I do not know what was said between them, but Marianne was always our friend after our first meeting.
The dealer had told me that he was going to New York to pick up some horses, and one was an 1800s Looff. If I wanted it, he would bring it back for me. When he returned, he had decided to keep it in his collection. Then he realized that everyone would see it in a few weeks when the ACS Convention came to his home to have lunch and see his collection. He believed that Charlotte Dinger and Marianne would both want that Looff, and that he could probably lose a friend if he sold it to either one of them. Since he had brought the Looff back for me, I had the first chance to buy it.
Marianne was a real lady. We used to trade photographs and share carousel history and enjoyed long phone calls. Marianne and I bought and sold horses to each other in friendly transactions. The first horse that I bought from her was later restored by Laytons, and became the Parker Rose Horse on the cover of the May, 2003 Carousel News & Trader. We later sold her a Muller jumper that she was looking for. Our last horse from her is an Illions stander in park paint that had been the lead horse on a two row carousel. When Marianne bought it she put it on the middle row of the Spring River Park carousel in Roswell, NM. The park owned the carousel and she owned and maintained the horses on it. She was tired of picking up this horse and having to repair the front leg, broken by riders mounting the horse. She replaced it with another horse.
Marianne will also be remembered as one of the founders of the National Carousel Association, and later, the American Carousel Society. She bought, restored and sold some nice carousels. The most special figures were usually removed and replaced with horses before the carousel was again set up as a ride. It was her way to enjoy and protect her collection of exceptional carvings. She said that she had chosen to donate some of them to certain museums when she was gone. Marianne believed that people who have nice collections should leave some of their special figures to museums where they could be appreciated by the public, or to a local museum near where the carousel came from, so that people could see what old carousel animals were like.
It was nice to know her, fun to ride a carousel with her, and wonderful to learn from her. She was our friend. We will miss her page in the magazine.
We fondly remember her…
Michael’s finished Indian pony in primer.
By Michael Younkle
Dear Roland, Since receiving the news in the CN&T regarding the death of Marianne Stevens, I’ve been wanting to write you. Your words were quite moving. You were lucky to have known Marianne. When you recalled how she told you “. . . you’re doing a nice job. . .”, I felt a chill.
In April of 2010 I received a letter from Marianne. My work had been published in the CN&T Carver’s Issue of the previous month. Marianne was brief and to the point. She wrote:
Dear Michael,
I read your article in the Trader with interest. You are extremely talented. As talented as the “old” carvers. I thought you’d like to know. I look forward to seeing the Indian Pony completed.
– Sincerely, Marianne Stevens
I never imagined I’d receive such a response from someone so respected. She had such an influence on my work. Her letter came at a time when I really needed to hear some words of encouragement. In January 2006, I took on the responsibility of caring for my Dad, who had health issues that were complicated by the onset of dementia. After he died, on March 30th, 2009, I had a time picking up where my art career left off. Marianne gave me the motivation to continue.
When I finally completed the Indian Pony in June of this year, I immediately sent photos with a letter to Marianne. Weeks went by without a response and I grew concerned . . . Now I know why.
Playland-at-the-Beach in San Francisco.
By Warren Crandall
Losing Marianne. Goodness, that’s a tough pill to swallow. My relatives owned Playland-at-the-Beach in San Francisco from where she brought the Looff carousel.
I had long considered it to be my carousel and was deeply hurt when Playland closed.
When I first called Marianne on the telephone, I figured that the call would only last a few minutes.
The call lasted for more than an hour and I quickly realized that I had a new best friend. What a wonderful lady she was. I just wish I’d had the opportunity to meet her face to face.
Marianne at Asilomar in 1999. Kate Muphy photo
By Kate and Shawn Murphy
Marianne Stevens has always been a major player in “All Things Carousel” over the past 50 years. Her name was one we often heard as we entered into the Carousel World in the early 1990s. She certainly was considered one of the greatest carousel historians ever. Her tremendous knowledge of carousel history, and the details of individual carousels and figures was legendary. Those who were fortunate enough to know Marianne, greatly respected her – and will find in her passing a gaping void that will be difficult to fill. We are so sad.
