When my father, Ed Parks (who later became an animator for Disney, Paramount, and Hanna-Barbera) was a child in the late Twenties and Early Thirties, he lived in Waterbury. At that time, there were at least seven theatres along that stretch of East Main Street. Some of the other theatres were: State, Rialto (where he went to see Tom Mix movies on Saturday mornings),Strand, Garden, and Bijou. He always referred to the theatre here discussed as “Poli’s Palace,” though the posessive form of Poli doesn’t seem to have been used on signage. Dad’s best friend, Bussy Beith, had asthma, and Bussy’s father only wanted his son to go to Poli’s because he felt it had the best air!
Dad used to tell me that the box office had a large clock on it, which was handy for planning when to get in line for the show. I later saw a photo which proved this.
Other memories of his:
He was afraid to sit under the crystal chandelier which hung under the balcony from the Mezzanine ceiling and through the oval-shaped promenade, thinking it might fall.
He said that he used to look at the impressively huge organ pipes. I wondered about this, since theatre organ pipes were typically concealed, but when visiting the Palace in 1990 with the Theatre Historical Sciety Conclave, sure enough, I saw that the chambers were fronted by towering display pipes, just for show!
Dad remembered sitting in one of the Main Floor box seats right by the orchesra pit with my Grandmother and several family friends. The kettle drums were right by them, and as the movie that night was the war picture (silent) “What Price Glory,” those drums were used a lot, and really thundered in that auditorium. Also, Dad remembered one member of the orchestra using a narrow washboard-like device which, when some sort of bar or rod was pulled through it, imitated machine gun fire!
Dad also remembered some of the vaudeville acts which appeared there. The one he told me of which I remember was a trained dog act in which a group of little dogs in overalls and caps, with tools, set about to build a miniature house onstage! This delighted Dad no end, and eventually when the dog act returned to Waterbury, he went to see them again! He used to say, “It was the cutest thing!"
Dad also remarked that the fire curtain was a beautifully painted scenic one which had advertising space on it, and sometimes commedian acts would refer to local businesses whose names were on the curtain as part of their act as they stood in front of it.
Dad said that at the time (though the theatre was quite new) he just figured it had "been there forever.” He said it was always kept spotless, but he assumed because of its ornate style that it must have been old.
Many years later, Dad got to see the theatre, from the outside at least, when we were taking a family car trip all around the US in 1981. The rectangular neon Loew’s style marquee was still on the facade then, though the Loew’s name was gone. Dad was sad that the original marquee and vertical sign were gone, though there was a small vertical which read, “Palace."
I got to photograph the theatre on 1990 during the THS Conclave, and when Dad saw the pictures of the interior he really enjoyed them.
For any Waterbury-ites reading this, Dad lived on the hillside above Downtown (within walking distance). He lived on Wyman Street, two houses up from what he called The Big House, a Victorian mansion owned by the Stanley family, who owned many of the rental houses on that block. There were no houses across the street, just a rock retaining wall and a steep embankment, with the rears of the next street’s houses backing up to it. Also, he went to Drigg’s Grammar School.
About ten years ago(circa 1993 or 4), armed with a listing of the addresses of the theatres of Richmond, I checked out McDonald Avenue to see what, if anything, had survived. I’d never been to Richmond before. The Rio was still standing at that time, and in use as a church. I’ve seen old pictures of it, and aside from the marquee being gone, the building still looked like a theatre, with poster cases still intact, surrounded by maroon tile. Though I had my camera with me, there were several very unfriendly-looking guys out on the sidewalk, and I was unwilling to ruffle any feathers. I did photograph the shell of the Uptown—now a senior center and only vaguely recognizable as a former theatre—which sat along a quieter and cleaner stretch of the former theatre district. It was the only other theatre building surviving. I remember that the theatre variously known as the T&D, Fox, and UA survived into the mid-1980s, because at that time there was some talk of reopening it as some kind of community arts facility, but this didn’t materialize, and this theatre was demiolished.
Very cool.
As someone who was also married in a movie theatre (the 1926 Golden State, listed as the UA State, in Monterey, California), I can attest to the fact that it’s a fun experience. While we didn’t actually show any movies as part of the festivities, we DID have a 20 minute prelude of show music and other tunes on the theatre’s Wurlitzer organ.
Not long ago my wife and I had a conversation with the manager of Berkeley’s California Theatre, and learned that she too, had a theatre wedding.
In the old day as well, theatres were used for weddings, sometimes as part of the actual entertainment program, or for the winners of prize drawings.
The California Theatre will reopen in September, 2004 with the beginning of Opera San Jose’s new season. Classic movie lovers can also look forward to many nights of patronage of this theatre also.
Last week I was privileged to have a personal tour of the still-under-construction theatre. While the technical improvements to the whole facility and the new architectural additions to the building are numerous and state-of-the art, I was very pleased to see that within the space of the original building everything has been brought back to 1927. Those very few details which had to be altered a bit for code or customer service and comfort reasons blend in perfectly well with all that is original. The replica of the marquee has been installed. The finish on it is perhaps shinier than what was there originally, but then this marquee won’t need repainting every few years like the marquees of old did (with rust always winning out in the end). The vertical sign was not yet installed, but the facade is completely restored, with a beige and white color scheme (the original was a uniform salmon pink). I could see very little in the entrance foyer, which was still obscured by scaffolding, but workmen were busy recladding the concrete colomns in marble which matches the surviving marble so perfectly it’s uncanny. The Grand Lobby still preserves the original stenciling on the ceiling—apparently having only been cleaned and touched up in a couple of places. The chandeliers are magnificently restored with stenciled mica duplicating the original. The walls once again look like adobe, with the niches made of lime or sandstone. The Mezzanine and lower inner lobbies were still very much works-in-progress with plastering and brightly painted undercoats being applied in readiness for overglazing. The auditorium has been brought back to its original color scheme, with painting complete save for the front and soffit of the balcony, People who may have seen this room when I was conducting tours in the 1990s will find the current colors rather muted compared to the carnival-like color scheme applied during the aborted renovation of the theatre in the 1970s, but the new colors are true or very close to the original 1927 palette as far as I can ascertain, and will look fantastic once the original chandeliers illiminate them and give added warmth and ambience. The restored painted panels over the proscenium with their heraldic crests and garlands are particularly spectacular, as are the gilded plaster faces atop the columns flanking the organ grilles. Installation of both the auditorium and lobby organs is just beginning, with much of the organ restoration work having been done offsite.
The new spaces around and under the historic part of the theatre are simple and modern. In the end, they will certainly contrast with the original areas, but the differences in style will not harm the historic areas, as you can’t really see the modern areas from the historic, access between the two being only through standard doorways and a few arched openings.
Underneath the building is a warren of passageways with dressing room after dressing room. I hope they are planning to install directional signs, as this underground complex is like the underground areas at Radio City on a reduced scale.
The stage…is gargantuan…
If anyone ever complains that it is too small (and someone will someday—they always do) they need to…“go away.” There are well over fifty lines for flying scenery, an orchestra lift, a nice little room for storing the organ console, and a shelf way up high on the stage-right stagehouse wall for the organ’s Diaphone pipes.
As was promised by the architects and by David W. Packard, all the stage lighting in the auditorium used for live performances will be hidden from view when movies play, save perhaps on the front edge of the balcony. The racks of ubiquitous black cans we old theatre fans cringe at seeing on the walls will simply be invisible—either hidden in the ceiling beams, behind hatches in the ceiling, or sliding out of the way behind the original wrought iron false window grilles in the sidewalls. The integration of all this wizardry into the restored plasterwork and decorative painting is truly remarkable.
While my wife and I are planning to be there on the operatic Opening Night, I am equally looking forward to attending classic movies at this plush venue, as I have done for over a decade now at the Stanford in nearby Palo Alto.
If you like the Stanford, you’ll love the California. Having been designed by the same architectural firm in the 1920s, it is (and I mean this with complete respect) like the Stanford on steroids AND in drag!
The painting on the Hanford Fox’s fire curtain is identical to that on the fire curtain of the Fox (nee Sequoia/Fox Sequoia) in Redwood City, also still in operation and undergoing restoration.
I am happy to report that the facade refurbishment of the Chabot is now complete and looks beautiful. They didn’t replace some of the facade neon which outlined the geometric Greek Key patterns in the facade stucco, but this is a relatively minor disappointment. The marquee, below-marquee canopy, lettering, and the vertical decorative streamlined pilon fin which extends up the facade from the marquee all have new neon tubing applied—in colors of magenta, red, yellow, white, and blue. In addition, some new decorative stucco work has been done over the entry, beneath the marquee soffit which repeats the Key motif on the upper facade. There are also new exterior neo-moderne uplighting fixtures applied to the exterior sidewalls—a nice touch since those walls had formerly been blatantly plain.
Though it has been converted for live performance use, the Rio is still capable of showing movies, and does so on occasion. The exterior still remains exactly as in the 1984 photograph by Jack Tillmany above, with one improvement—that being that the yellow neon on the spine of the vertical sign fin which was missing in 1984 has been replaced. Indeed, all of the neon is in good working order. While there isn’t much to see decoratively inside the Rio, the lobby, with its undulating curved walls and tiered ceiling lit indirectly with pink neon cove lighting is a feature I’ve always enjoyed, as this is one of my childhood theatres.
In 1983, my cousin and I planned to catch “Return of the Jedi” there on opening day. He was in Junior High, and I was in Junior College. We both cut out of our classes early, and took the city bus from Aptos to Santa Cruz and the Rio. We weren’t able to get tickets to that day’s very first showing, so we settled for the second showing, and took our places in line, only to be eventually met by my Mom coming out of the first showing, wearing an “I beat you guys to it!” grin. Unbeknownst to us, she had gone down there early in the day to get into the first show! We were quite astonished. I also remember that while we were waiting in line someone had brought colored chalk and was drawing swirling abstract art all over the sidewalk to pass the time and amuse bystanders while we were all in line.
During the last few years of UA ownership, someone got the bright idea of removing the lovely tiered lotus-shaped Moderne wall fixtures in the auditorium and replacing them with new fixtures. Fortunately, the original fixtures weren’t thrown away, but put in storage in the Del Mar Theatre downtown. With the recent ongoing restoration of the Del Mar, they have now taken their place in that theatre’s auditorium and lobby, where they replace long-missing fixtures which were similar.
Though it was built as part of a shopping center and opened around 1958, the Rheem looks fully like a theatre that would have been built ten years earlier. One could say that it was the last movie theatre of the classic era to be built in the Bay Area. There is abundant neon on the exterior, plenty of etched glass and terrazzo in the entryway, and murals depicting the Zodiac in the auditorium. The developer who built it wanted a truly luxurious theatre, and thus, the era and tradition of the show starting on the sidewalk was prolonged just a few more years with the construction of the Rheem.
One and the same Strand. Another above comment mentions a lot of “restoration” having taken place. Not true, as there was nothing left inside to restore, the theatre having been totally gutted to the bare concrete when turned to retail use. What has been done is to furnish the space with a plain and simple, but pleasing contemporary multipurpose interior. The original concrete structural rectangle of the proscenium frames a new stage, but nothing at all decorative remains from the old interior. The facade has been given a very nice paint job, highlighting the original moldings, pilasters, window sashes, and balustrades.
Actually, the HOBBY SHOW letters were painted vertically on a section of wall immediately to the right of the boarded-up entrance, but still beneath the marquee. This was in 1973, when the photo I have of a ten-year-old me was taken in front of the theatre. In the photo, the reader board panels are missing from the marquee, exposing the interior wiring, much of the neon is broken, and there’s abundant rust on the marquee (due to proximity to the salt air of the ocean).
I toured this theatre in the summer of 2002 with the Theatre Historical Society Conclave. It has been beautifully restored by the Jehovah’s Witnesses, who were very hospitable and served us a buffet in the abovementioned banquet room upstairs, which has likewise been restored. The abovementioned Stanley in Jersey City has also been restored by members of the denomination, and is stunning. In the case of the Stanley, the original marquee of copper, with stained glass nameplates at the corners, has been restored.
“Amen” to the previous comment about fine versus boring marquees. Often the key factor is of course money. However, there is also the contingent of artsy-smartsy folks who think that if a theatre is going to become a performing arts center that festive things like neon and chaser lights are sinful.
The Fox Oakland’s vertical sign is the last 20s vertical to be found anywhere in the Bay Area. Thank goodness it survived long enough to be restored. At one point in the early 80s, a renovation of the Fox Oakland was planned, and renderings were produced of it which showed removal of the vertical, and generification of the marquee. Fortunately that perticular scheme fell through. The last two verticals that disappeared were the Roxie in Oakland and the El Capitan in San Francisco. The El Capitan had been demolished save for its facade in the mid-60s, but the vertical remained until the mid-90s, when it was removed.
I hunted this theatre down about ten years ago using its address in the Film Daily Yearbook for 1951. At the time I found it, its concrete shell was still standing, and housed an auto repair shop. The facade had been opened up with a rollup door for moving cars in and out.
My wife and I were in the area yesterday, so we swung by. The Palm is still open. The front door on the right was standing open, and the “OPEN” neon sign in the box office window was on.
The architects of the State were the Reid Bros. The auditorium was atmospheric in style. The overall theme of the building was and is Spanish. Some of the cast ornament used can also be seen on and in other Reid Bros. theatres such as the State (Golden State) in Monterey.
The entrance facade received a Moderne style remodel later on, with vertical fluting in stucco supporting a vertical sign. New display cases and a terrazzo sidewalk were also installed.
When the conversion to offices, retail, and ballroom occurred, the vertical sign, marquee, and boxoffice were removed, but otherwise the exterior was left alone, and still looks very much like a theatre. The lobby and mezzanine are likewise mostly intact. The auditorium was divided horozontally, with the upper half preserving the atmospheric look. The upper half of the proscenium, false facades, and the projection ports can still be seen.
Quick comment for previous-poster Gerald A. DeLuca re. the Verdi Theatre. It later was known as the World—a Chinese movie theatre, and was demolished and replaced by an office building (circa 1980?) which housed a small modern Chinese movie theatre called the World, and preserved the former theatre’s neon vertical sign of Chinese characters.
Two murals on canvas salvaged from the Verdi/World were offered for sale ($$$$!)in the late 1990s by an antique store called Swallowtail, on Polk Street, not far from the Alhambra Theatre. These were of neoclassical female nudes, and of very high quality.
This theatre was built circa 1908, not long after the ‘06 earthquake and fire. The man behind its construction was the father of Edmund G. “Pat” Brown, who became Governor of California, and whose son Edmund G. “Jerry” Brown Jr. (Mayor of Oakland as of 2004) also became Governor.
At one point, the Victoria was known as the 16th Street Theatre, and a mosaic with this name still exists on the floor of the ticket lobby, with a later, circa 1930 box office partly obscuring it.
The facade of the mainly brick-built theatre is stucco, and done in a Mission Revival style. There is a circa 1930 marquee, which once had neon, and still retains its chaser-light-bordered reader board. There is also a nice vertical sign, which likewise once featured neon, and today has the Victoria name nicely painted.
Although restoration still needs to be done to the decorative paint finishes in some parts of the auditorium, the fact that it has been unplexed really makes this theatre a treat. The Southeast Asian atmospheric style is intact, and the stars twinkle in the plaster sky above. My family and I enjoyed a fine symphonic and choral performance at the Fox in April of 2003, and we’re planning to see another show there next month when we’ll be having another family get-together down there.
It should be noted that a theatre pipe organ has been secured for the Fox, and it shouldn’t be too long before it is sounding-fourth from the Hindu temple organ chambers.
In the one photo I have of ten-year-old me standing in front of the Tracy (which was the first closed old theatre to ever capture my imagination), there is a painted sign right next to the boarded-up entrance which reads, “HOBBY SHOW.” Can Tracy or anyone else shed light on what this sign signified?
At that age, I was fascinated by the murals in the theatres I attended at that time of life; the Bay in Seal Beach (where I lived), the Crest in Long Beach, and the Belmont, in Belmont Shores, as well as in the Long Beach Municipal Auditorium. Because of this, I wished at the time I could get past those plywood barriers and broken windows and get inside the Tracy.
A little update: The Studio now houses a nightclub called “glo.” The signage on the former reader boards has changed, but otherwise the exterior remains in its original condition, with marquee and vertical sign neon still lighting up every night the club is running, just as you see in my 1990 photo above. During the recent interior renovation I peeked into the auditorium, and though the murals are long gone, the cast plaster ornament on the ceilings and on either side of the proscenuium is intact, though repainted.
The original name for this theatre was to have been Tower (for architectural reasons which should be obvious). Burbank is an unincoprporated community which is geographically part of San Jose.
Interesting to see that the Strand’s original architect was A. W. Cornelius, something I did not know. His other theatres include the California in Pittsburg (closed but standing with original facade intact), T&D/Fox/UA in Richmond (demolished 1980s), and T&D/Fox California (in use sporadically for performing arts and movies, remodeled several times) in Salinas.
The Lark is one of three theatres in the Greater Bay Area designed from basically the same plan. All have identical vertical signs with space for four letters. The other two are the PARK in Lafayette, currently run by Rennaissance Rialto as a single screen firstrun/art house, and the NOYO in Willits, currently operating as a four-plex firstrun house.
When my father, Ed Parks (who later became an animator for Disney, Paramount, and Hanna-Barbera) was a child in the late Twenties and Early Thirties, he lived in Waterbury. At that time, there were at least seven theatres along that stretch of East Main Street. Some of the other theatres were: State, Rialto (where he went to see Tom Mix movies on Saturday mornings),Strand, Garden, and Bijou. He always referred to the theatre here discussed as “Poli’s Palace,” though the posessive form of Poli doesn’t seem to have been used on signage. Dad’s best friend, Bussy Beith, had asthma, and Bussy’s father only wanted his son to go to Poli’s because he felt it had the best air!
Dad used to tell me that the box office had a large clock on it, which was handy for planning when to get in line for the show. I later saw a photo which proved this.
Other memories of his:
He was afraid to sit under the crystal chandelier which hung under the balcony from the Mezzanine ceiling and through the oval-shaped promenade, thinking it might fall.
He said that he used to look at the impressively huge organ pipes. I wondered about this, since theatre organ pipes were typically concealed, but when visiting the Palace in 1990 with the Theatre Historical Sciety Conclave, sure enough, I saw that the chambers were fronted by towering display pipes, just for show!
Dad remembered sitting in one of the Main Floor box seats right by the orchesra pit with my Grandmother and several family friends. The kettle drums were right by them, and as the movie that night was the war picture (silent) “What Price Glory,” those drums were used a lot, and really thundered in that auditorium. Also, Dad remembered one member of the orchestra using a narrow washboard-like device which, when some sort of bar or rod was pulled through it, imitated machine gun fire!
Dad also remembered some of the vaudeville acts which appeared there. The one he told me of which I remember was a trained dog act in which a group of little dogs in overalls and caps, with tools, set about to build a miniature house onstage! This delighted Dad no end, and eventually when the dog act returned to Waterbury, he went to see them again! He used to say, “It was the cutest thing!"
Dad also remarked that the fire curtain was a beautifully painted scenic one which had advertising space on it, and sometimes commedian acts would refer to local businesses whose names were on the curtain as part of their act as they stood in front of it.
Dad said that at the time (though the theatre was quite new) he just figured it had "been there forever.” He said it was always kept spotless, but he assumed because of its ornate style that it must have been old.
Many years later, Dad got to see the theatre, from the outside at least, when we were taking a family car trip all around the US in 1981. The rectangular neon Loew’s style marquee was still on the facade then, though the Loew’s name was gone. Dad was sad that the original marquee and vertical sign were gone, though there was a small vertical which read, “Palace."
I got to photograph the theatre on 1990 during the THS Conclave, and when Dad saw the pictures of the interior he really enjoyed them.
For any Waterbury-ites reading this, Dad lived on the hillside above Downtown (within walking distance). He lived on Wyman Street, two houses up from what he called The Big House, a Victorian mansion owned by the Stanley family, who owned many of the rental houses on that block. There were no houses across the street, just a rock retaining wall and a steep embankment, with the rears of the next street’s houses backing up to it. Also, he went to Drigg’s Grammar School.
About ten years ago(circa 1993 or 4), armed with a listing of the addresses of the theatres of Richmond, I checked out McDonald Avenue to see what, if anything, had survived. I’d never been to Richmond before. The Rio was still standing at that time, and in use as a church. I’ve seen old pictures of it, and aside from the marquee being gone, the building still looked like a theatre, with poster cases still intact, surrounded by maroon tile. Though I had my camera with me, there were several very unfriendly-looking guys out on the sidewalk, and I was unwilling to ruffle any feathers. I did photograph the shell of the Uptown—now a senior center and only vaguely recognizable as a former theatre—which sat along a quieter and cleaner stretch of the former theatre district. It was the only other theatre building surviving. I remember that the theatre variously known as the T&D, Fox, and UA survived into the mid-1980s, because at that time there was some talk of reopening it as some kind of community arts facility, but this didn’t materialize, and this theatre was demiolished.
As I recall, this theatre’s entrance was moved around a corner during its post-fire renovation. This would likely explain the address change.
Very cool.
As someone who was also married in a movie theatre (the 1926 Golden State, listed as the UA State, in Monterey, California), I can attest to the fact that it’s a fun experience. While we didn’t actually show any movies as part of the festivities, we DID have a 20 minute prelude of show music and other tunes on the theatre’s Wurlitzer organ.
Not long ago my wife and I had a conversation with the manager of Berkeley’s California Theatre, and learned that she too, had a theatre wedding.
In the old day as well, theatres were used for weddings, sometimes as part of the actual entertainment program, or for the winners of prize drawings.
Update:
The California Theatre will reopen in September, 2004 with the beginning of Opera San Jose’s new season. Classic movie lovers can also look forward to many nights of patronage of this theatre also.
Last week I was privileged to have a personal tour of the still-under-construction theatre. While the technical improvements to the whole facility and the new architectural additions to the building are numerous and state-of-the art, I was very pleased to see that within the space of the original building everything has been brought back to 1927. Those very few details which had to be altered a bit for code or customer service and comfort reasons blend in perfectly well with all that is original. The replica of the marquee has been installed. The finish on it is perhaps shinier than what was there originally, but then this marquee won’t need repainting every few years like the marquees of old did (with rust always winning out in the end). The vertical sign was not yet installed, but the facade is completely restored, with a beige and white color scheme (the original was a uniform salmon pink). I could see very little in the entrance foyer, which was still obscured by scaffolding, but workmen were busy recladding the concrete colomns in marble which matches the surviving marble so perfectly it’s uncanny. The Grand Lobby still preserves the original stenciling on the ceiling—apparently having only been cleaned and touched up in a couple of places. The chandeliers are magnificently restored with stenciled mica duplicating the original. The walls once again look like adobe, with the niches made of lime or sandstone. The Mezzanine and lower inner lobbies were still very much works-in-progress with plastering and brightly painted undercoats being applied in readiness for overglazing. The auditorium has been brought back to its original color scheme, with painting complete save for the front and soffit of the balcony, People who may have seen this room when I was conducting tours in the 1990s will find the current colors rather muted compared to the carnival-like color scheme applied during the aborted renovation of the theatre in the 1970s, but the new colors are true or very close to the original 1927 palette as far as I can ascertain, and will look fantastic once the original chandeliers illiminate them and give added warmth and ambience. The restored painted panels over the proscenium with their heraldic crests and garlands are particularly spectacular, as are the gilded plaster faces atop the columns flanking the organ grilles. Installation of both the auditorium and lobby organs is just beginning, with much of the organ restoration work having been done offsite.
The new spaces around and under the historic part of the theatre are simple and modern. In the end, they will certainly contrast with the original areas, but the differences in style will not harm the historic areas, as you can’t really see the modern areas from the historic, access between the two being only through standard doorways and a few arched openings.
Underneath the building is a warren of passageways with dressing room after dressing room. I hope they are planning to install directional signs, as this underground complex is like the underground areas at Radio City on a reduced scale.
The stage…is gargantuan…
If anyone ever complains that it is too small (and someone will someday—they always do) they need to…“go away.” There are well over fifty lines for flying scenery, an orchestra lift, a nice little room for storing the organ console, and a shelf way up high on the stage-right stagehouse wall for the organ’s Diaphone pipes.
As was promised by the architects and by David W. Packard, all the stage lighting in the auditorium used for live performances will be hidden from view when movies play, save perhaps on the front edge of the balcony. The racks of ubiquitous black cans we old theatre fans cringe at seeing on the walls will simply be invisible—either hidden in the ceiling beams, behind hatches in the ceiling, or sliding out of the way behind the original wrought iron false window grilles in the sidewalls. The integration of all this wizardry into the restored plasterwork and decorative painting is truly remarkable.
While my wife and I are planning to be there on the operatic Opening Night, I am equally looking forward to attending classic movies at this plush venue, as I have done for over a decade now at the Stanford in nearby Palo Alto.
If you like the Stanford, you’ll love the California. Having been designed by the same architectural firm in the 1920s, it is (and I mean this with complete respect) like the Stanford on steroids AND in drag!
The organ from this theatre now belongs to a private collector in Salinas, though it is storage, not currently playable.
The painting on the Hanford Fox’s fire curtain is identical to that on the fire curtain of the Fox (nee Sequoia/Fox Sequoia) in Redwood City, also still in operation and undergoing restoration.
I am happy to report that the facade refurbishment of the Chabot is now complete and looks beautiful. They didn’t replace some of the facade neon which outlined the geometric Greek Key patterns in the facade stucco, but this is a relatively minor disappointment. The marquee, below-marquee canopy, lettering, and the vertical decorative streamlined pilon fin which extends up the facade from the marquee all have new neon tubing applied—in colors of magenta, red, yellow, white, and blue. In addition, some new decorative stucco work has been done over the entry, beneath the marquee soffit which repeats the Key motif on the upper facade. There are also new exterior neo-moderne uplighting fixtures applied to the exterior sidewalls—a nice touch since those walls had formerly been blatantly plain.
Though it has been converted for live performance use, the Rio is still capable of showing movies, and does so on occasion. The exterior still remains exactly as in the 1984 photograph by Jack Tillmany above, with one improvement—that being that the yellow neon on the spine of the vertical sign fin which was missing in 1984 has been replaced. Indeed, all of the neon is in good working order. While there isn’t much to see decoratively inside the Rio, the lobby, with its undulating curved walls and tiered ceiling lit indirectly with pink neon cove lighting is a feature I’ve always enjoyed, as this is one of my childhood theatres.
In 1983, my cousin and I planned to catch “Return of the Jedi” there on opening day. He was in Junior High, and I was in Junior College. We both cut out of our classes early, and took the city bus from Aptos to Santa Cruz and the Rio. We weren’t able to get tickets to that day’s very first showing, so we settled for the second showing, and took our places in line, only to be eventually met by my Mom coming out of the first showing, wearing an “I beat you guys to it!” grin. Unbeknownst to us, she had gone down there early in the day to get into the first show! We were quite astonished. I also remember that while we were waiting in line someone had brought colored chalk and was drawing swirling abstract art all over the sidewalk to pass the time and amuse bystanders while we were all in line.
During the last few years of UA ownership, someone got the bright idea of removing the lovely tiered lotus-shaped Moderne wall fixtures in the auditorium and replacing them with new fixtures. Fortunately, the original fixtures weren’t thrown away, but put in storage in the Del Mar Theatre downtown. With the recent ongoing restoration of the Del Mar, they have now taken their place in that theatre’s auditorium and lobby, where they replace long-missing fixtures which were similar.
Though it was built as part of a shopping center and opened around 1958, the Rheem looks fully like a theatre that would have been built ten years earlier. One could say that it was the last movie theatre of the classic era to be built in the Bay Area. There is abundant neon on the exterior, plenty of etched glass and terrazzo in the entryway, and murals depicting the Zodiac in the auditorium. The developer who built it wanted a truly luxurious theatre, and thus, the era and tradition of the show starting on the sidewalk was prolonged just a few more years with the construction of the Rheem.
One and the same Strand. Another above comment mentions a lot of “restoration” having taken place. Not true, as there was nothing left inside to restore, the theatre having been totally gutted to the bare concrete when turned to retail use. What has been done is to furnish the space with a plain and simple, but pleasing contemporary multipurpose interior. The original concrete structural rectangle of the proscenium frames a new stage, but nothing at all decorative remains from the old interior. The facade has been given a very nice paint job, highlighting the original moldings, pilasters, window sashes, and balustrades.
Actually, the HOBBY SHOW letters were painted vertically on a section of wall immediately to the right of the boarded-up entrance, but still beneath the marquee. This was in 1973, when the photo I have of a ten-year-old me was taken in front of the theatre. In the photo, the reader board panels are missing from the marquee, exposing the interior wiring, much of the neon is broken, and there’s abundant rust on the marquee (due to proximity to the salt air of the ocean).
I toured this theatre in the summer of 2002 with the Theatre Historical Society Conclave. It has been beautifully restored by the Jehovah’s Witnesses, who were very hospitable and served us a buffet in the abovementioned banquet room upstairs, which has likewise been restored. The abovementioned Stanley in Jersey City has also been restored by members of the denomination, and is stunning. In the case of the Stanley, the original marquee of copper, with stained glass nameplates at the corners, has been restored.
“Amen” to the previous comment about fine versus boring marquees. Often the key factor is of course money. However, there is also the contingent of artsy-smartsy folks who think that if a theatre is going to become a performing arts center that festive things like neon and chaser lights are sinful.
The Fox Oakland’s vertical sign is the last 20s vertical to be found anywhere in the Bay Area. Thank goodness it survived long enough to be restored. At one point in the early 80s, a renovation of the Fox Oakland was planned, and renderings were produced of it which showed removal of the vertical, and generification of the marquee. Fortunately that perticular scheme fell through. The last two verticals that disappeared were the Roxie in Oakland and the El Capitan in San Francisco. The El Capitan had been demolished save for its facade in the mid-60s, but the vertical remained until the mid-90s, when it was removed.
I hunted this theatre down about ten years ago using its address in the Film Daily Yearbook for 1951. At the time I found it, its concrete shell was still standing, and housed an auto repair shop. The facade had been opened up with a rollup door for moving cars in and out.
My wife and I were in the area yesterday, so we swung by. The Palm is still open. The front door on the right was standing open, and the “OPEN” neon sign in the box office window was on.
The architects of the State were the Reid Bros. The auditorium was atmospheric in style. The overall theme of the building was and is Spanish. Some of the cast ornament used can also be seen on and in other Reid Bros. theatres such as the State (Golden State) in Monterey.
The entrance facade received a Moderne style remodel later on, with vertical fluting in stucco supporting a vertical sign. New display cases and a terrazzo sidewalk were also installed.
When the conversion to offices, retail, and ballroom occurred, the vertical sign, marquee, and boxoffice were removed, but otherwise the exterior was left alone, and still looks very much like a theatre. The lobby and mezzanine are likewise mostly intact. The auditorium was divided horozontally, with the upper half preserving the atmospheric look. The upper half of the proscenium, false facades, and the projection ports can still be seen.
Quick comment for previous-poster Gerald A. DeLuca re. the Verdi Theatre. It later was known as the World—a Chinese movie theatre, and was demolished and replaced by an office building (circa 1980?) which housed a small modern Chinese movie theatre called the World, and preserved the former theatre’s neon vertical sign of Chinese characters.
Two murals on canvas salvaged from the Verdi/World were offered for sale ($$$$!)in the late 1990s by an antique store called Swallowtail, on Polk Street, not far from the Alhambra Theatre. These were of neoclassical female nudes, and of very high quality.
This theatre was built circa 1908, not long after the ‘06 earthquake and fire. The man behind its construction was the father of Edmund G. “Pat” Brown, who became Governor of California, and whose son Edmund G. “Jerry” Brown Jr. (Mayor of Oakland as of 2004) also became Governor.
At one point, the Victoria was known as the 16th Street Theatre, and a mosaic with this name still exists on the floor of the ticket lobby, with a later, circa 1930 box office partly obscuring it.
The facade of the mainly brick-built theatre is stucco, and done in a Mission Revival style. There is a circa 1930 marquee, which once had neon, and still retains its chaser-light-bordered reader board. There is also a nice vertical sign, which likewise once featured neon, and today has the Victoria name nicely painted.
Although restoration still needs to be done to the decorative paint finishes in some parts of the auditorium, the fact that it has been unplexed really makes this theatre a treat. The Southeast Asian atmospheric style is intact, and the stars twinkle in the plaster sky above. My family and I enjoyed a fine symphonic and choral performance at the Fox in April of 2003, and we’re planning to see another show there next month when we’ll be having another family get-together down there.
It should be noted that a theatre pipe organ has been secured for the Fox, and it shouldn’t be too long before it is sounding-fourth from the Hindu temple organ chambers.
In the one photo I have of ten-year-old me standing in front of the Tracy (which was the first closed old theatre to ever capture my imagination), there is a painted sign right next to the boarded-up entrance which reads, “HOBBY SHOW.” Can Tracy or anyone else shed light on what this sign signified?
At that age, I was fascinated by the murals in the theatres I attended at that time of life; the Bay in Seal Beach (where I lived), the Crest in Long Beach, and the Belmont, in Belmont Shores, as well as in the Long Beach Municipal Auditorium. Because of this, I wished at the time I could get past those plywood barriers and broken windows and get inside the Tracy.
A little update: The Studio now houses a nightclub called “glo.” The signage on the former reader boards has changed, but otherwise the exterior remains in its original condition, with marquee and vertical sign neon still lighting up every night the club is running, just as you see in my 1990 photo above. During the recent interior renovation I peeked into the auditorium, and though the murals are long gone, the cast plaster ornament on the ceilings and on either side of the proscenuium is intact, though repainted.
The original name for this theatre was to have been Tower (for architectural reasons which should be obvious). Burbank is an unincoprporated community which is geographically part of San Jose.
Interesting to see that the Strand’s original architect was A. W. Cornelius, something I did not know. His other theatres include the California in Pittsburg (closed but standing with original facade intact), T&D/Fox/UA in Richmond (demolished 1980s), and T&D/Fox California (in use sporadically for performing arts and movies, remodeled several times) in Salinas.
The Lark is one of three theatres in the Greater Bay Area designed from basically the same plan. All have identical vertical signs with space for four letters. The other two are the PARK in Lafayette, currently run by Rennaissance Rialto as a single screen firstrun/art house, and the NOYO in Willits, currently operating as a four-plex firstrun house.