I didn’t think that sounded right. First, symphony musicians don’t leave their instruments in the theatre (even for just over night) and second, the symphony’s season hadn’t opened when the storm hit. The musicians were not working in the theatre at that time.
The link to the NPR archives and their excellent report on the musicians of the Louisiana Philharmonic is:
The report only states that the timpani were left in the Orpheum’s basement. Maybe it was Fox News reporting that “hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of precious peices were lost in the bowls of the theatre.” It certainly wasn’t in this report from the * ahem* treacherous, liberal media.
I agree, as a musician I can’t imagine anyone leaving his/her instrument in the performance hall: most don’t really like leaving their instruments out of sight during intermission! The theatre’s music library was in the basement and no doubt those “pieces” were lost. Leaving musical instruments in the Orpheum’s basement doesn’t ring true at all.
WHW, I realize it’s been a long time, but I’d really like to hear you describe the theatre. I only saw it after it had closed. Anything at all you can remember would be welcome.
Yes, best wishes.
Oops, wait, this is confusing. It’s the Summer Drive-In (closed in 1966) that was owned by Kemmons Wilson. Sorry about the confusion. Haven’t had my coffee yet.
lostmemory, thanks for a VERY interesting link. I’d never heard of the Summer Avenue Drive-In. You’ll notice on the link (above) that it was partly owned by Kemmons Wilson. He’s much more famous as the creator and owner of the Holiday Inn chain. If I’m not mistaken, one of the first Holiday Inns (if not the very first) was on Summer Avenue not too far from the Drive-In.
WHW: ahh, what’s in a name? Southwestern or Rhodes, it’s still a jewel architecturally and a fine fine academic institution. I lived right behind the campus when I worked at the Orpheum (formerly the Malco). Memphis may have many problems, but your old Alma Mater is one of the brighter spots.
Joe, thanks for the grin. A subscription to Variety is so expensive I’ve never taken it regularly: only pick up an occassional issue. On the subject of “Slanguage” I bow to your greater knowledge and will follow the link you provided. Jack, I don’t know if AIA keeps an “opus list” for its members but suspect not. The Cinema Treasures lists can be sorted by architect though and provides a wonderful starting point for research. The webmaster here and the support team have done a wonderful job with this site. Can’t compliment them enough!
Jack, tisk, tisk, tisk: “hard top” as opposed to “atmospheric.” Patsy, John Eberson developed a style of movie palace architecture inwhich the plaster ceiling was a dark blue dome representing the sky, the side walls were designed with highly orate “exterior” details to create the impression that the audience was sitting in an open courtyard. The sky would have twinkling stars and clouds floating past, the court yard would have trees, shubs, birds and vines (all fake of course). Eberson’s name became synonomous (sp?) with what he called the “atmospheric style.” He did design more traditional theatres, the Nashville Paramount for example. When talking about one of his non-atmospheric theatres one describes them, with tongue firmly in cheek, as a hard-top. Eberson’s career was long and fruitful. He was designing theatres at least into the 1950’s. He may have even designed drive-ins (don’t know).
The Cinema Treasures lists can be sorted by architect. Give it a try and look up some of Eberson’s halls. There will be lots of examples. He really was one of the best.
Talked with 2 members of the Louisiana Philharmonic this weekend. The Orpheum is the orchestra’s home. What they’ve heard about the Orpheum is that water got just over the top of the stage. The lobby is slightly higher than the stage so it may have been mostly spared. The basement including the mechanical areas, electrical meters and switch gear, the 1950’s era Westinghouse chillers for the ac and the heat exchangers are likely ruined and will require replacement. It was all old and needing replacement anyway. The smoke vents in the stagehouse roof were blown off so the curtains and lights were all soaked. Otherwise, wind damage to the theatre appears to be minimal.
The good news is that all members of the orchestra are safe and with friends and family. They will travel from the 4-corners of the country to play a benefit concert in Nashville in the coming weeks.
Glad to see so much discussion of the lovely Tennessee Theatre. The photo that “lostmemory” has posted is an excellent image of the marquee that was removed in the recent renovation. It was a handsome 1950’s era sign. The current one is much more baroque – recreating the original 1928 design with only a few modern touches. Best to all.
jodigirl: You can call the theatre and ask for either Becky (the manager) or Tim (the technical director). Both have access to extensive photos of the theatre before, during and after the renovation. Who knows, might even have a photo of your husband there. I’ve sat on that bench many times but I don’t think it’s historic – betting it was brought to the theatre in the 1960’s. My opinion only, Tim or Becky will know for sure.
Chuck’s photos (above) are quite nice – shows the theatre just before the recent renovation. This marqee was removed and a duplicate of the original installed along with a new vertical sign.
If memory serves, the Saenger’s stage is below sidewalk level. Sad to think that even with the console fully raised, it might still be completely submerged.
Fondly remember movies seen here during the ‘70’s – Jaws and the Rocky Horror Picture Show (some 50 times) among others – but couldn’t recall a single detail of the building. Always liked this one better than the Cinema North for some reason, but again, don’t remember why.
This hall operated as the Loew’s Melrose during the 1960’s. Gone is the tall pylon which stood on top of the marquee. Wasn’t there was a bowling alley at the other end of the shopping center. I particularly remember a donut shop next door. Went to see “The AristoCats” here with mom as a little kid. When I was old enough to go to the movies on my own, it was closed.
Let me add a couple of other memories of this magnificent building. As I noted above, the building had been built without airconditioning. Air was pulled through the auditorium ceiling grills, through the attic and exhausted by a pair of enormous fans standing above the projection booth. If I had to guess, I’d say the fans were 10 feet in diameter. These were not squirrel cage fans, but fans reminscent of farm windmills. There was a single 100 hp motor on a concrete pedistal belted to the two fans. The controller was mounted right there at the motor. I can’t imagine what it must have been like, standing there, adjusting the fan speed, with those giant blades spinning only 3 feet away.
Back at the sidewalk, there was a neo-classical/Adam-esque frieze around the recessed entry: a greek procession with girls in diaphanous gowns and men in togas – you know the type. Though it had been subsequently painted over in white, it was obvious that it had originally been vividly polychormed.
The box office was a free-standing kiosk with a stained glass dome roof. It was supposedly removed and sent to a mall somewhere as an information booth. It was removed intact before the wrecking ball went to work at least.
The last marquee was of the Loew’s streamlined/neon variety but the original had been a arched-top design, something like the Times Square Paramount’s.
The orchestra pit had been floored over, probably when the balcony boxes were cut away for Cinerama.
Rumor was that the building sat on a 99 year ground lease and that the rent was a fixed $660.00 a month.
The architect was B. Marcus Priteca. The Pantages opened in 1920 or 1921 to compete with Loew’s two new Thomas Lamb theatres – both within a block of this hall. The newspaper reviews of the opening were glowing in their review of the decor and the fine acoustics.
Closed and torn down in 1990 I believe. It was operated by MALCO and had been twinned. There was nothing much to say about it. It was a plain, somewhat barn-like, suburban hall.
The Playhouse management can’t be complemented highly enough for the extraordinary adaptation of the old Memphian. The seating capacity was reduced by half or more. The original stage was big enough only to hold the speaker cabinet. The lobby barely held a popcorn popper. Both lobby and stage were enlarged, the seats re-aligned, offices and dressing rooms inserted. The result is a wonderfully intimate and charming live stage theatre with the street presence of a 1930’s neighborhood cinema. The interior looks better now than it ever did. Likewise the talent, on stage and behind the scenes, is as good as any New York theatre’s. I have seen many shows at Playhouse On The Square and NEVER been disappointed in a performance. This has been a total success story – both for saving the old Memphian and creating a space for the finest in live theatre.
The Terrace is – to Knoxville film buffs – the most regreted lost theatre. The building is nothing to look at: a low metal building with a drop-off canopy instead of a marquee on the front. Inside a tiny lobby with a spray of “mod” tear-drop lights and a cramped candy counter lead the audience into the featureless curtained auditoriums.
For many years though, under the name Terrace Tap-House, it served as Knoxville’s art theatre. The location, just off Kingston Pike, (our main east/west street) with plenty of free parking, only 3 miles from the University of Tennessee’s 30,000 students AND at the center of Knoxville’s fashionable west side neighborhoods should have proved gold-mine.
When I first began visiting the Terrace in 1993 the projection looked like the lenses had been cleaned with sand paper. The pop corn was burned, the co-cola flat. There was no calender to know what was coming, nor how long a feature would stay. The auditorium floors had been stepped into terraces with tables and uncomfortable metal chairs. The sight lines were deplorable.
In its last incarnation someone outfitted an adjacent storefront as a complete restaurant kitchen to convert the old Terrace into the “Cinema Grill.” It lasted less than 6 months. The building is currently used as a coffee house under the name Fairbanks Roasting Room. I don’t know if they ever use the projection equipment, or if the projectors are even still there.
Still, when you talk to Knoxvillians of a certain age about the Terrace they will smile and say, “oh yes, I saw ____________ there.”
The Terrace is about a block from the Capri Cinema, q.v.
Thanks for your posting. Again, let me reiterate that the Lensic is a great place and I’m VERY glad to have been able to visit (my home is East Tennessee). You mention that you’re on staff there. So please tell me why if there is a house main, if there is cove lighting why weren’t these they used for “Steamboat Bill”? Certainly that was one occassion when they would have been absolutely appropriate to be highlighted.
Above, you mention “The ceiling had already been painted flat black (it is now dark blue) and the cloud projector and tapestry long gone – same with tile vestiges or plants.” When you say tapestry what do you mean? Boller Brothers theatres were often semi-atmospheric – a tent over the auditorium with the sky visible only at the edges. Is that how the Lensic was built? Were there stars? Why weren’t they restored? Surely the flat, grided ceiling I saw wasn’t original – be it blue or black.
Please tell us more about the renovation, how decisions were made and when it all happened. This site is to disseminate oral history to a wider audience. Please, this is your chance to fill out the story.
Apologies for a typo above: it should say “…formed a very EARLY 2-screen complex.” We need tntim to tell us the whole story here. His father was the projectionist at the Capri (I think) for the theatre’s whole existence.
Jack, yes, that is the Pike – a.k.a. the Capri. Kingston Pike is the main street on the west side of Knoxville. That area has had the most growth since WWII and continues to expand at a phenominal rate.
The Cedar Bluff was converted to office space in the mid-1990’s. At this date, it is un-recognizable as a former theatre. It had been a twin in its last years. Don’t know if it was built that way or not.
Amen brother!
I didn’t think that sounded right. First, symphony musicians don’t leave their instruments in the theatre (even for just over night) and second, the symphony’s season hadn’t opened when the storm hit. The musicians were not working in the theatre at that time.
The link to the NPR archives and their excellent report on the musicians of the Louisiana Philharmonic is:
View link
The report only states that the timpani were left in the Orpheum’s basement. Maybe it was Fox News reporting that “hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of precious peices were lost in the bowls of the theatre.” It certainly wasn’t in this report from the * ahem* treacherous, liberal media.
I agree, as a musician I can’t imagine anyone leaving his/her instrument in the performance hall: most don’t really like leaving their instruments out of sight during intermission! The theatre’s music library was in the basement and no doubt those “pieces” were lost. Leaving musical instruments in the Orpheum’s basement doesn’t ring true at all.
WHW, I realize it’s been a long time, but I’d really like to hear you describe the theatre. I only saw it after it had closed. Anything at all you can remember would be welcome.
Yes, best wishes.
Oops, wait, this is confusing. It’s the Summer Drive-In (closed in 1966) that was owned by Kemmons Wilson. Sorry about the confusion. Haven’t had my coffee yet.
lostmemory, thanks for a VERY interesting link. I’d never heard of the Summer Avenue Drive-In. You’ll notice on the link (above) that it was partly owned by Kemmons Wilson. He’s much more famous as the creator and owner of the Holiday Inn chain. If I’m not mistaken, one of the first Holiday Inns (if not the very first) was on Summer Avenue not too far from the Drive-In.
WHW: ahh, what’s in a name? Southwestern or Rhodes, it’s still a jewel architecturally and a fine fine academic institution. I lived right behind the campus when I worked at the Orpheum (formerly the Malco). Memphis may have many problems, but your old Alma Mater is one of the brighter spots.
Joe, thanks for the grin. A subscription to Variety is so expensive I’ve never taken it regularly: only pick up an occassional issue. On the subject of “Slanguage” I bow to your greater knowledge and will follow the link you provided. Jack, I don’t know if AIA keeps an “opus list” for its members but suspect not. The Cinema Treasures lists can be sorted by architect though and provides a wonderful starting point for research. The webmaster here and the support team have done a wonderful job with this site. Can’t compliment them enough!
Jack, tisk, tisk, tisk: “hard top” as opposed to “atmospheric.” Patsy, John Eberson developed a style of movie palace architecture inwhich the plaster ceiling was a dark blue dome representing the sky, the side walls were designed with highly orate “exterior” details to create the impression that the audience was sitting in an open courtyard. The sky would have twinkling stars and clouds floating past, the court yard would have trees, shubs, birds and vines (all fake of course). Eberson’s name became synonomous (sp?) with what he called the “atmospheric style.” He did design more traditional theatres, the Nashville Paramount for example. When talking about one of his non-atmospheric theatres one describes them, with tongue firmly in cheek, as a hard-top. Eberson’s career was long and fruitful. He was designing theatres at least into the 1950’s. He may have even designed drive-ins (don’t know).
The Cinema Treasures lists can be sorted by architect. Give it a try and look up some of Eberson’s halls. There will be lots of examples. He really was one of the best.
Talked with 2 members of the Louisiana Philharmonic this weekend. The Orpheum is the orchestra’s home. What they’ve heard about the Orpheum is that water got just over the top of the stage. The lobby is slightly higher than the stage so it may have been mostly spared. The basement including the mechanical areas, electrical meters and switch gear, the 1950’s era Westinghouse chillers for the ac and the heat exchangers are likely ruined and will require replacement. It was all old and needing replacement anyway. The smoke vents in the stagehouse roof were blown off so the curtains and lights were all soaked. Otherwise, wind damage to the theatre appears to be minimal.
The good news is that all members of the orchestra are safe and with friends and family. They will travel from the 4-corners of the country to play a benefit concert in Nashville in the coming weeks.
Glad to see so much discussion of the lovely Tennessee Theatre. The photo that “lostmemory” has posted is an excellent image of the marquee that was removed in the recent renovation. It was a handsome 1950’s era sign. The current one is much more baroque – recreating the original 1928 design with only a few modern touches. Best to all.
jodigirl: You can call the theatre and ask for either Becky (the manager) or Tim (the technical director). Both have access to extensive photos of the theatre before, during and after the renovation. Who knows, might even have a photo of your husband there. I’ve sat on that bench many times but I don’t think it’s historic – betting it was brought to the theatre in the 1960’s. My opinion only, Tim or Becky will know for sure.
Chuck’s photos (above) are quite nice – shows the theatre just before the recent renovation. This marqee was removed and a duplicate of the original installed along with a new vertical sign.
If memory serves, the Saenger’s stage is below sidewalk level. Sad to think that even with the console fully raised, it might still be completely submerged.
Fondly remember movies seen here during the ‘70’s – Jaws and the Rocky Horror Picture Show (some 50 times) among others – but couldn’t recall a single detail of the building. Always liked this one better than the Cinema North for some reason, but again, don’t remember why.
This hall operated as the Loew’s Melrose during the 1960’s. Gone is the tall pylon which stood on top of the marquee. Wasn’t there was a bowling alley at the other end of the shopping center. I particularly remember a donut shop next door. Went to see “The AristoCats” here with mom as a little kid. When I was old enough to go to the movies on my own, it was closed.
Let me add a couple of other memories of this magnificent building. As I noted above, the building had been built without airconditioning. Air was pulled through the auditorium ceiling grills, through the attic and exhausted by a pair of enormous fans standing above the projection booth. If I had to guess, I’d say the fans were 10 feet in diameter. These were not squirrel cage fans, but fans reminscent of farm windmills. There was a single 100 hp motor on a concrete pedistal belted to the two fans. The controller was mounted right there at the motor. I can’t imagine what it must have been like, standing there, adjusting the fan speed, with those giant blades spinning only 3 feet away.
Back at the sidewalk, there was a neo-classical/Adam-esque frieze around the recessed entry: a greek procession with girls in diaphanous gowns and men in togas – you know the type. Though it had been subsequently painted over in white, it was obvious that it had originally been vividly polychormed.
The box office was a free-standing kiosk with a stained glass dome roof. It was supposedly removed and sent to a mall somewhere as an information booth. It was removed intact before the wrecking ball went to work at least.
The last marquee was of the Loew’s streamlined/neon variety but the original had been a arched-top design, something like the Times Square Paramount’s.
The orchestra pit had been floored over, probably when the balcony boxes were cut away for Cinerama.
Rumor was that the building sat on a 99 year ground lease and that the rent was a fixed $660.00 a month.
The architect was B. Marcus Priteca. The Pantages opened in 1920 or 1921 to compete with Loew’s two new Thomas Lamb theatres – both within a block of this hall. The newspaper reviews of the opening were glowing in their review of the decor and the fine acoustics.
Closed and torn down in 1990 I believe. It was operated by MALCO and had been twinned. There was nothing much to say about it. It was a plain, somewhat barn-like, suburban hall.
The Playhouse management can’t be complemented highly enough for the extraordinary adaptation of the old Memphian. The seating capacity was reduced by half or more. The original stage was big enough only to hold the speaker cabinet. The lobby barely held a popcorn popper. Both lobby and stage were enlarged, the seats re-aligned, offices and dressing rooms inserted. The result is a wonderfully intimate and charming live stage theatre with the street presence of a 1930’s neighborhood cinema. The interior looks better now than it ever did. Likewise the talent, on stage and behind the scenes, is as good as any New York theatre’s. I have seen many shows at Playhouse On The Square and NEVER been disappointed in a performance. This has been a total success story – both for saving the old Memphian and creating a space for the finest in live theatre.
Dear Theaterat: I do hope for the best and hope you will talk to your doctor about Prozac.
Mellowly yours and posting my full name
Will Dunklin
Knoxville Tennessee
The Terrace is – to Knoxville film buffs – the most regreted lost theatre. The building is nothing to look at: a low metal building with a drop-off canopy instead of a marquee on the front. Inside a tiny lobby with a spray of “mod” tear-drop lights and a cramped candy counter lead the audience into the featureless curtained auditoriums.
For many years though, under the name Terrace Tap-House, it served as Knoxville’s art theatre. The location, just off Kingston Pike, (our main east/west street) with plenty of free parking, only 3 miles from the University of Tennessee’s 30,000 students AND at the center of Knoxville’s fashionable west side neighborhoods should have proved gold-mine.
When I first began visiting the Terrace in 1993 the projection looked like the lenses had been cleaned with sand paper. The pop corn was burned, the co-cola flat. There was no calender to know what was coming, nor how long a feature would stay. The auditorium floors had been stepped into terraces with tables and uncomfortable metal chairs. The sight lines were deplorable.
In its last incarnation someone outfitted an adjacent storefront as a complete restaurant kitchen to convert the old Terrace into the “Cinema Grill.” It lasted less than 6 months. The building is currently used as a coffee house under the name Fairbanks Roasting Room. I don’t know if they ever use the projection equipment, or if the projectors are even still there.
Still, when you talk to Knoxvillians of a certain age about the Terrace they will smile and say, “oh yes, I saw ____________ there.”
The Terrace is about a block from the Capri Cinema, q.v.
pac:
Thanks for your posting. Again, let me reiterate that the Lensic is a great place and I’m VERY glad to have been able to visit (my home is East Tennessee). You mention that you’re on staff there. So please tell me why if there is a house main, if there is cove lighting why weren’t these they used for “Steamboat Bill”? Certainly that was one occassion when they would have been absolutely appropriate to be highlighted.
Above, you mention “The ceiling had already been painted flat black (it is now dark blue) and the cloud projector and tapestry long gone – same with tile vestiges or plants.” When you say tapestry what do you mean? Boller Brothers theatres were often semi-atmospheric – a tent over the auditorium with the sky visible only at the edges. Is that how the Lensic was built? Were there stars? Why weren’t they restored? Surely the flat, grided ceiling I saw wasn’t original – be it blue or black.
Please tell us more about the renovation, how decisions were made and when it all happened. This site is to disseminate oral history to a wider audience. Please, this is your chance to fill out the story.
Will
Apologies for a typo above: it should say “…formed a very EARLY 2-screen complex.” We need tntim to tell us the whole story here. His father was the projectionist at the Capri (I think) for the theatre’s whole existence.
Jack, yes, that is the Pike – a.k.a. the Capri. Kingston Pike is the main street on the west side of Knoxville. That area has had the most growth since WWII and continues to expand at a phenominal rate.
The Cedar Bluff was converted to office space in the mid-1990’s. At this date, it is un-recognizable as a former theatre. It had been a twin in its last years. Don’t know if it was built that way or not.