While on a month long tour of New Jersey (and that’s a story in itself) I came upon the Asbury Park Paramount theatre and exhibition hall. I was stopped, slack jawed, in my tracks. That very night a performance of Aida was to take place and I bought a ticket then and there. The interior of the hall is pleasant but the real show is on the exterior. The riotous, sea-themed fantasy in terra-cotta, bronze, glass, and brick is worth sitting on a park bench and just staring at for a couple of hours.
The boardwalk/building complex shows up in some unexpected places. It’s in the background of an early scene in of the film “Dogma” (with Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, 20th Century Fox).
Also, when the SS Morro Castle burned, the disabled ship came to rest right at the exhibition hall end of the complex. Photos of the ruined ship often include parts of the building. For example here:
Amen Stevebob. You know, all that combination of faux and real seems, kinda, like, uh, THEATRICAL! And yes, it is wonderful. And yes Jim’s contributions to this site are of exceptional quality. In fact, I’d say they were grand. Probably not grandiouse, because he is concise after all. But on a site devoted to grandiouse excess, (tell me another way to describe an Eberson atmospheric) quibbling over the shades of meaning are a lot less interesting than quibbling over the shades of faux marble.
Jack, yes, everything you say agrees with what I remember of the building also. I was in Donelson last week and noticed it still standing and occupied (as an office). The photo just didn’t look quite right: similar, but somehow, different. I’ll follow up – at some point. Best wishes, Will
Jack, are you sure about that photo? I know the Donelson was converted to office use and it certainly doesn’t look anything like a theatre now, but this doesn’t look quite right. Next time I go visit mom I’ll double check. Also, the address doesn’t match. The building in the photo says 2812/2816. As a little kid I went to the movies here, but can’t remember anything of the interior at all. (We moved away from Donelson when I was 5.) What I do remember was driving by one day and seeing it being remodeled into office space and thinking it was sad to see the theatre gone.
As an aside to anyone who doesn’t know: Donelson is the name of the town that is the eastern suburban community from Nashville. It is now part of Metro Nashville. The name Donelson comes from Andrew Jackson’s wife – Rachel Donelson Jackson.
A friend was in the Saenger this last weekend. His report is that the water got about three feet above the stage. Everything below that level is ruined. The theatre’s mechanicals (heating/air conditioning, electrical, plumbing, etc) are beyond repair. The locking rail and rigging are in poor shape. ALL electrical systems will have to be replaced. The building itself is mostly intact though and there is still a plaster sky over the -smelly, sticky, grungy but stunningly handsome- auditorium.
The organ console, was brought to the top of its lift, but will have have to be replaced, as will the lift mechanism and the blower. However, the irreplaceable pipes, traps and chests are all intact.
The good news: an opening date is a long way off, but repair and cleaning of the Saenger is already taking place. It is somewhat ironic that the theatre was closed for renovation when the storms hit, so much of the theatre’s furnishings were not in the building during the flood. The restoration plans that had already been made are still valid and will help speed the building’s recovery.
In closing let me say that my friend was shaken to his core by what he saw of New Orleans. According to him, the loss is beyond comprehension or description: this beloved theatre survived but so much of the vibrant city has gone forever.
This building is also gone. I checked with some old theatre-savy friends in Memphis who said this building had been torn down by the late 1960’s.
I suspect (but have no proof) that the Suzore #2 must have been an older theatre that was renamed. It would have been very odd for a small time operator like Mr. Suzore to have been able to afford to build a new theatre on North Main. Neither can I imagine it would be profitable as North Main had not been a fashonable address since the very early 1900’s.
WHW, you’ll pardon my smile and wink when I say I was in the old Luciann many times after it ceased to be a -ahem- first run theatre. I did actually get a complete look at the building. It had been totally gutted, the floors leveled and any vestige of the old cinema and the subsequent bowling alley were gone. The projection booth was a storage room and some old amplifier equipment still in place, but nothing else.
Having been away from Memphis for many years now, I don’t remember the name that it operated under as an adult entertainment center. It was nothing but a pit. But let me tell you, the place was always busy!
The photo posted by RobertR on Jul 19 does not show the marquee that I remember of the Loew’s Cresent. The last time I was in the theatre was about 1990 (and we won’t talk about how I got in, okay?) The entire interior was gone: auditorium, stage, lobby, restrooms, walls, everything. The space was a large empty shell with a back-hoe sitting in the middle of the dark, sad room. However, the marquee was still hanging over the sidewalk. It no longer said Lowe’s Cresent, but the sign boards were still there, as were the border lights.
I was in the Hollywood about 1990. It was completely intact and was being used for small-name live acts. The theatre had some roof damage and was very under-funded.
MH, You neglect to mention the Cresent, which though not really a movie palace per se, was a large theatre on Church. T-PAC was built AFTER the Paramount,the Cresent and the Vendome were razed. The Tennessee came down because a developer (whom I met, talked with and pleaded the case for saving the Tennessee and its 11 story office building) wanted to build a larger, newer building. T-PAC did not make these theatres redundant.
This theatre was also called the “Picto” at one point. It is a neighborhood storefront hall, about 35 feet wide and 100 feet long. The marquee is long gone but a practiced eye can tell it was a theatre.
Last time I was in the New Daisy was about 1990. There were no seats, the interior was painted completely black. There were plenty of “disco lights” and beer signs as the only interior decor. An opening had been cut between the auditorium the adjacent store front to the west. It was, in every sense of the words, a mosh-pit and I do mean pit. However, it was busy every weekend and plenty of emerging bands played there.
In discussion with others from this web-site, the Majestic does not seem to appear in trade journals after 1941, implying that it had ceased theatrical operation before World War II.
The Princess was torn down about 1972 to make way for a parking lot. It was razed during the same urban renewal sweep that destroyed the Strand and the Lowe’s State: a dark time when about 10 blocks of historic buildings, mom & pop businesses and several churches were lost to “progress.” The empty wasteland remained for 20 years. Only in the 1990’s did redevelopment take hold on the south side of downtown.
Spent many many happy evenings at the Fare Four and later the Fare Eight. It was built as a four plex as part of a larger entertainment and dining complex. There was a sort of food-court-sans-mall next door called “The World’s Fare” which didn’t fare well at went out of business fairly quick. The Fare Four showed art-house films in the 1980s and 1990s. The auditoriums kept getting smaller as they were cut down to make more screens. It was something of a mess when I last saw the hall in 1992. The original decor was completely forgettable.
Old newspaper ads refer to the Majestic #1 and #2 and also the OLD Majestic #1 and #2. I infer there were actually 4 theatres operating simultaneously with the same name! In the book “Nickelodeon Theatres and Their Music” there is a photo of a Majestic Theatre in Memphis, but the theatre in the photo is most definately not the building that survives on South Main Street.
Across the street was the Strand Theatre (razed) and the Loew’s State (razed). In the next block north was the Pantages (a.k.a. Warner, razed). In the next block south was the Princess (razed) and the Orpheum (still operating).
I was in the Linden Circle during the mid-1980’s when it was a short-lived, low-end antique-junk store. The seats had been unbolted and piled at the small stage end. There were vestiges of older decor visible behind art-deco era remodling.
The auditorium was broad with no balcony. The lobby sloped upward and lead past the adjacent store fronts.
The Linden Circle at one time had a 3 manual theatre organ originally at the Loew’s Buffalo. Last I heard, that organ was in a Baptist church in Jackson Tennessee minus its toys and percussions.
About 1990 the art-deco marquee and the vaguely Spanish front were covered in vinyl siding (!) in a mis-guided attempt to dress up the block.
I was told that the Suzores lived in an apartment above this theatre into the 1960’s and that there was a photoplayer still sitting at the front of the hall at that late date. That would imply the theatre dated from the silent era. When I saw the site it was a weedy lot: the building completely gone.
Everything I’ve heard about the Strand was exactly as you describe. The “era-of-four-Majestics” would have been around World War One, which made me think that the Strand MIGHT have been one of the later Majestics, renamed in the 1920’s.
By the time I was in Memphis, the Strand’s site had been a parking lot for years. It was interesting (and a little heartbreaking) to be able to see the scars the old theatre had left on the adjacent building: you could clearly see where the stairs and balcony had been.
WHW excellent description! Thanks. In my (limited) research on Memphis theatres I’ve come across several references to the Majestic #1 and #2 and also the NEW Majestic #1 and #2. I infer there were actually 4 theatres called Majestic at one time. I’ve wondered if the building last known as the Strand was one of these. There is a Majestic theatre still standing nearly across from where the Strand stood. It is now a brew-pub. It was adjacent to the Hotel Gayoso and Goldsmiths.
Sad news: the Crosstown’s finest exterior feature, the grand vertical sign (with its miles of neon) has been taken down by the church that has owned the building since about 1977. That sign first spelled C-R-O-S-S-T-O-W-N, and then in another color it would say CROSS-TOWN and then in a third color it would say CROSSTOWN. It hasn’t run in decades, but it was visible for blocks and blocks. Happily, the building still stands and word is that the interior is well cared for.
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.
While on a month long tour of New Jersey (and that’s a story in itself) I came upon the Asbury Park Paramount theatre and exhibition hall. I was stopped, slack jawed, in my tracks. That very night a performance of Aida was to take place and I bought a ticket then and there. The interior of the hall is pleasant but the real show is on the exterior. The riotous, sea-themed fantasy in terra-cotta, bronze, glass, and brick is worth sitting on a park bench and just staring at for a couple of hours.
The boardwalk/building complex shows up in some unexpected places. It’s in the background of an early scene in of the film “Dogma” (with Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, 20th Century Fox).
Also, when the SS Morro Castle burned, the disabled ship came to rest right at the exhibition hall end of the complex. Photos of the ruined ship often include parts of the building. For example here:
http://www.jerseyboardwalk.com/morro.htm
Amen Stevebob. You know, all that combination of faux and real seems, kinda, like, uh, THEATRICAL! And yes, it is wonderful. And yes Jim’s contributions to this site are of exceptional quality. In fact, I’d say they were grand. Probably not grandiouse, because he is concise after all. But on a site devoted to grandiouse excess, (tell me another way to describe an Eberson atmospheric) quibbling over the shades of meaning are a lot less interesting than quibbling over the shades of faux marble.
Best wishes
WD
Jack, yes, everything you say agrees with what I remember of the building also. I was in Donelson last week and noticed it still standing and occupied (as an office). The photo just didn’t look quite right: similar, but somehow, different. I’ll follow up – at some point. Best wishes, Will
Jack, are you sure about that photo? I know the Donelson was converted to office use and it certainly doesn’t look anything like a theatre now, but this doesn’t look quite right. Next time I go visit mom I’ll double check. Also, the address doesn’t match. The building in the photo says 2812/2816. As a little kid I went to the movies here, but can’t remember anything of the interior at all. (We moved away from Donelson when I was 5.) What I do remember was driving by one day and seeing it being remodeled into office space and thinking it was sad to see the theatre gone.
As an aside to anyone who doesn’t know: Donelson is the name of the town that is the eastern suburban community from Nashville. It is now part of Metro Nashville. The name Donelson comes from Andrew Jackson’s wife – Rachel Donelson Jackson.
A friend was in the Saenger this last weekend. His report is that the water got about three feet above the stage. Everything below that level is ruined. The theatre’s mechanicals (heating/air conditioning, electrical, plumbing, etc) are beyond repair. The locking rail and rigging are in poor shape. ALL electrical systems will have to be replaced. The building itself is mostly intact though and there is still a plaster sky over the -smelly, sticky, grungy but stunningly handsome- auditorium.
The organ console, was brought to the top of its lift, but will have have to be replaced, as will the lift mechanism and the blower. However, the irreplaceable pipes, traps and chests are all intact.
The good news: an opening date is a long way off, but repair and cleaning of the Saenger is already taking place. It is somewhat ironic that the theatre was closed for renovation when the storms hit, so much of the theatre’s furnishings were not in the building during the flood. The restoration plans that had already been made are still valid and will help speed the building’s recovery.
In closing let me say that my friend was shaken to his core by what he saw of New Orleans. According to him, the loss is beyond comprehension or description: this beloved theatre survived but so much of the vibrant city has gone forever.
This building is also gone. I checked with some old theatre-savy friends in Memphis who said this building had been torn down by the late 1960’s.
I suspect (but have no proof) that the Suzore #2 must have been an older theatre that was renamed. It would have been very odd for a small time operator like Mr. Suzore to have been able to afford to build a new theatre on North Main. Neither can I imagine it would be profitable as North Main had not been a fashonable address since the very early 1900’s.
We’ll have to research this one further.
WHW, you’ll pardon my smile and wink when I say I was in the old Luciann many times after it ceased to be a -ahem- first run theatre. I did actually get a complete look at the building. It had been totally gutted, the floors leveled and any vestige of the old cinema and the subsequent bowling alley were gone. The projection booth was a storage room and some old amplifier equipment still in place, but nothing else.
Having been away from Memphis for many years now, I don’t remember the name that it operated under as an adult entertainment center. It was nothing but a pit. But let me tell you, the place was always busy!
The photo posted by RobertR on Jul 19 does not show the marquee that I remember of the Loew’s Cresent. The last time I was in the theatre was about 1990 (and we won’t talk about how I got in, okay?) The entire interior was gone: auditorium, stage, lobby, restrooms, walls, everything. The space was a large empty shell with a back-hoe sitting in the middle of the dark, sad room. However, the marquee was still hanging over the sidewalk. It no longer said Lowe’s Cresent, but the sign boards were still there, as were the border lights.
I was in the Hollywood about 1990. It was completely intact and was being used for small-name live acts. The theatre had some roof damage and was very under-funded.
Finally got the address: 145-147 South Main Street. Many thanks to the Memphis Public Library history room for providing the information.
MH, You neglect to mention the Cresent, which though not really a movie palace per se, was a large theatre on Church. T-PAC was built AFTER the Paramount,the Cresent and the Vendome were razed. The Tennessee came down because a developer (whom I met, talked with and pleaded the case for saving the Tennessee and its 11 story office building) wanted to build a larger, newer building. T-PAC did not make these theatres redundant.
This theatre was also called the “Picto” at one point. It is a neighborhood storefront hall, about 35 feet wide and 100 feet long. The marquee is long gone but a practiced eye can tell it was a theatre.
Last time I was in the New Daisy was about 1990. There were no seats, the interior was painted completely black. There were plenty of “disco lights” and beer signs as the only interior decor. An opening had been cut between the auditorium the adjacent store front to the west. It was, in every sense of the words, a mosh-pit and I do mean pit. However, it was busy every weekend and plenty of emerging bands played there.
In discussion with others from this web-site, the Majestic does not seem to appear in trade journals after 1941, implying that it had ceased theatrical operation before World War II.
The Princess was torn down about 1972 to make way for a parking lot. It was razed during the same urban renewal sweep that destroyed the Strand and the Lowe’s State: a dark time when about 10 blocks of historic buildings, mom & pop businesses and several churches were lost to “progress.” The empty wasteland remained for 20 years. Only in the 1990’s did redevelopment take hold on the south side of downtown.
Spent many many happy evenings at the Fare Four and later the Fare Eight. It was built as a four plex as part of a larger entertainment and dining complex. There was a sort of food-court-sans-mall next door called “The World’s Fare” which didn’t fare well at went out of business fairly quick. The Fare Four showed art-house films in the 1980s and 1990s. The auditoriums kept getting smaller as they were cut down to make more screens. It was something of a mess when I last saw the hall in 1992. The original decor was completely forgettable.
Old newspaper ads refer to the Majestic #1 and #2 and also the OLD Majestic #1 and #2. I infer there were actually 4 theatres operating simultaneously with the same name! In the book “Nickelodeon Theatres and Their Music” there is a photo of a Majestic Theatre in Memphis, but the theatre in the photo is most definately not the building that survives on South Main Street.
Across the street was the Strand Theatre (razed) and the Loew’s State (razed). In the next block north was the Pantages (a.k.a. Warner, razed). In the next block south was the Princess (razed) and the Orpheum (still operating).
I was in the Linden Circle during the mid-1980’s when it was a short-lived, low-end antique-junk store. The seats had been unbolted and piled at the small stage end. There were vestiges of older decor visible behind art-deco era remodling.
The auditorium was broad with no balcony. The lobby sloped upward and lead past the adjacent store fronts.
The Linden Circle at one time had a 3 manual theatre organ originally at the Loew’s Buffalo. Last I heard, that organ was in a Baptist church in Jackson Tennessee minus its toys and percussions.
About 1990 the art-deco marquee and the vaguely Spanish front were covered in vinyl siding (!) in a mis-guided attempt to dress up the block.
I was told that the Suzores lived in an apartment above this theatre into the 1960’s and that there was a photoplayer still sitting at the front of the hall at that late date. That would imply the theatre dated from the silent era. When I saw the site it was a weedy lot: the building completely gone.
Everything I’ve heard about the Strand was exactly as you describe. The “era-of-four-Majestics” would have been around World War One, which made me think that the Strand MIGHT have been one of the later Majestics, renamed in the 1920’s.
By the time I was in Memphis, the Strand’s site had been a parking lot for years. It was interesting (and a little heartbreaking) to be able to see the scars the old theatre had left on the adjacent building: you could clearly see where the stairs and balcony had been.
WHW excellent description! Thanks. In my (limited) research on Memphis theatres I’ve come across several references to the Majestic #1 and #2 and also the NEW Majestic #1 and #2. I infer there were actually 4 theatres called Majestic at one time. I’ve wondered if the building last known as the Strand was one of these. There is a Majestic theatre still standing nearly across from where the Strand stood. It is now a brew-pub. It was adjacent to the Hotel Gayoso and Goldsmiths.
Sad news: the Crosstown’s finest exterior feature, the grand vertical sign (with its miles of neon) has been taken down by the church that has owned the building since about 1977. That sign first spelled C-R-O-S-S-T-O-W-N, and then in another color it would say CROSS-TOWN and then in a third color it would say CROSSTOWN. It hasn’t run in decades, but it was visible for blocks and blocks. Happily, the building still stands and word is that the interior is well cared for.
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.