Photos imply that the Vendome saw few changes over its 80 year life. The high victorian decor – wooden fretwork, heavy curtains with elaborate tie-backs and oversize fringe, fully enclosed balcony boxes are clearly visible in the August 9, 1967 newspaper photos along with the destruction caused by the fire.
The local pronounciation was VAHN-dohm.
The site is now Nashville’s astonishingly wonderful public library: surely the best brand-new neo-classical buildings I’ve seen.
I personally find this sort of “re-invention” of a historic building appalling. As a design professional, I actively oppose such work and can and do offer alternate design solutions to achieve modern solutions to modern operation, safety and structural requirements.
At least the Egyptian still stands and these changes may one day be removed.
There is an apocryphal story that Plitt (which operated the competing United Artists theater just across from the Woods) purposefully booked a film into the “U.A” just because the name of the film was “Don’t Go Into The Woods.”
Jim and others, apologies. I did indeed miss the names listed in Jim’s excellent post from August 7. It appears I spent too much time writing and not enough time reading. Jim, many thanks for (1) providing the names and your source and (2) reinforcing that information with the post from this morning. Your good-natured slap on the wrist is accepted as deserved. I usually read Jim’s comments from top to bottom as they are among the best on the site.
Now, I’m off to see what more I can learn about that company.
Bruce, et al, often in a government funded “restoration” anything added to the building specifically may NOT match the original fabric. The current philosophy being that to “make it match” is a dis-honest attempt to fool people into believing that the additional material is actually original.
Certainly there is merit in the spirit of the mandate. Unfortunately, in execution, too often the designers make this their excuse to insert incongruous elements into an historic building and trumpet their anachronistic and egocentric designs as being intellectully superior to “banal historicist recreations” because they are intentionally ironic.
I.M. Pei’s glass pyramids at the Louvre are an example. (It’s not only the US which promotes this philosophy.) There are plenty of other examples, the Egyptian apparently being one.
Of course it is possible to embrace the spirit AND provide a beautiful restoration. The Sistine Chapel’s recent restoration was extrodinarily sensitive to both the requirements for clear deliniation between new and old material while at the same time not distracting the viewer by “ironic” intrusions.
So, I repeat my question from August 6: who was the architect that led the renovation of the Egyptian? In my opinion, this person should NOT be working on movie palaces. That name should be made public. There are plenty of restoration architects that DO know how to handle the demands of public funding and are proactively respectful of movie palace heritage. Their names should also be made public.
Actually, B&K installed that phenominal sound system just for “Tommy.” The story goes that the State Lake needed a new system anyway, but with “Tommy” booked, they actually went all out and installed the best system possible. It sure left an impression on everyone who heard it. And of couse, Tommy did make them a ton of money.
The little “mighty Wurlitzer” from the Venetian was installed at Holy Family Roman Catholic Church, Bayfield, Wisconsin around 1954. The organ is currently dis-used and non-operating though mostly intact. Sadly, it doesn’t look like the Venetian will survive to see its organ returned as has happened in a handful of other locations.
I hope someone in the know will post the name of the architect and/or design firm which led the so-called restoration. Obviously, this is a person/firm which no one interested historic theaters should employ. Knowing who did this would be helpful.
This is forwarded from SDH, formerly Plitt Theaters' managing director of the loop operations in the late 1970’s.
On the subject of popcorn and concessions deliveries, at both the United Artists, the organ lift was still in place and was used to take cups, popcorn seed, candy, and drink syrup to the basement.
‘Twas easier than the stairs, but the UA kept Loop hours (open at 8:00 AM) and the deliveries were made whilst the theatre was open: The teamsters would bring four-wheelers down Aisle Four, load the organ lift up with whatever, and the goods would sink into what had been the orchestra pit, in full view of the astonished first-show patrons. I never argued with it. They had been doing this for decades.
Norman, as proof positive, I have a 70MM film reel – ahem – “liberated” from the Palace as it was being demolished in 1985. It hangs proudly on the wall in the living room.
With the lobby already destroyed we explored the building from basement to booth. The projectors and sound heads were gone but otherwise the projection booth looked like it did the day the last film was shown. The building went down with even its seats still in place.
How long were RKO and Radio City associated? Did the stage shows under RKO exclusively feature acts/stars under RKO contract? Or were the stage shows always produced in-house. Of course vaudeville was all-but gone by the time Radio City opened, but as the RKO Palace continued to operate with a “variety” policy for many years, I’m curious if RKO’s contract players dominated the Music Hall’s “great stage.”
The Music Box is now under new management. The partners who in 1983 leased and renovated the building and subsequently maintained the highest standards of presentation and spared no expense to create one of the best cinema experiences available anywhere were unable to negotiate a new lease with the building’s owner. The owner now plans to operate the Music Box himself though he has no experience in the field. Wishing him the best.
He has big shoes to fill. But of course, they’re his shoes.
Can we really fault the 1960’s – ‘70’s Music Hall management for insisting on “G” rated films even at the expense of profit? Certainly the result was the decline and near failure of the “Showplace of the Nation,” but they were actually trying to uphold a standard. In the face of a cultural and business shift RCMH seems to have tried to keep to the high road. It’s more than I can say for the managers who chopped their halls into mulit-plexes, went to porno or tore the halls down.
All of the super-palace class theaters (think Chicago’s Uptown, Paradise, Marbro, New York’s Capitol, Roxy, Center and many more) were financial balacing acts. We all held our breath when the Music Hall’s future hung in that balance. RCMH, for all its lack of vision in production at least remains intact, doors open and protected from demolition. If the Christmas shows pander to a specific audience AND pay the bills to keep the greatest theater ever built open, I for one won’t complain too much. As long as the hall stands, there’s hope that someday, some brilliant showman will come along who can draw the thousands necessary to make the money to pay the orchestra, the organists, the ballet, the Rockettes, the ushers, the engineers, the stage hands, the projectionists, the costumers, the choreographers, the publicists and everyone else it takes to create magnificent, wonderful, outlandish spectacle at “popular” prices.
Simon – Thank you for putting down some memories. Your writing style and descriptions are exceptional. Can I pester you for more? Tell us about the training you got to be a Roxy and RCMH usher. Was there any of the military bravura that Ben Hall describes in his book? Were there sports teams? Did RCMH play the Capitol? Did you ever sing in the glee club? Or was all that just publicitiy hype?
Also, what were the accomodations like for the ushers? Is there a vast hidden suite of rooms? Where is it? Did you ever date a Rockette? Was the Center Theatre still there when you were working? Did you ever get sent there?
Details! Untold millions are sitting here eagerly waiting to hear every detail from someone who was there!
I am fortunate to know Stan Hightower, formerly managing director of the Loop Theaters for Plitt, a good friend who, over dinner and a cigarette, can tell stories of the big four Plitt “Loop” theaters that are much more entertaining than many of the pictures shown in those same halls. I asked him to send some memories of the State Lake which are copied below. I forgive him for being critical of the State Lake’s decor as he spent most of his time across the street in the dazzeling Chicago Theater.
For your consideration, here are Stan’s thoughts –
That sound system was indeed second to none. I remember when “Apocalypse Now” opened there in 70mm six-channel mag (lines around the block, etc), P B** was the manager and he happened to like the “Ride of the Valkyries,” so the projection staff were instructed to “crank it” when that particular scene came on. People were cowering in their seats trying to survive the blast. There were a couple of panels on the marquee which should have been
felted, organ-style, for they began to buzz like the old bronze
weather-stripping in a high wind. You could hear the sound track in the vestibule of the Chicago Theatre across the street. And not a hint of distortion.
Things I couldn’t stand about that theatre: Kroehler Pushbacks. And it was very, very ugly. Loew’s/Adam ugly. There were dumb pipe-fronts on the organ chambers, and a large monstrosity suspended from the middle of the dome, which we called the upside-down turtle-shell, because that’s exactly what it looked like. This silly thing held all the cove lights for the dome, and there was a ladder down to it from the “attic” (actually a space between the house ceiling and the eighth floor of the State-Lake building). Ugly as sin,
but the S-L was one of the top earners in the circuit when I was there. They turned some incredible grosses for a house with only 2700 seats, and the overhead was quite low because Balaban & Katz owned the office building.
The S-L was a great place to see a picture. Floors were raked exactly right, and there was a triad of Norelco AA2’s in the booth with Schneider lenses and Super-Cinex lamps. The picture was always bright, sharp, and punchy as hell.
I’ve heard that the reason there are 5 projectors is because “in the day” 2 prints were run simultaneously, one projecting onto the screen and one running with the dowser closed. I was told was that should a projector fail, film break, anything go wrong, they would instantly switch to the other running projector. Supposedly this was cheaper than refunding 6000 tickets.
Also regarding screen size, I have a 1926 Paramount magazine ad, (part of their “Friendship Means More at the Movies” ad campaign) that shows a theater full of happy people watching a tiny screen in a vast curtained movie palace proscenium. My old time projectionist buddy tells me that the pre WWII lamps simply weren’t bright enough to really light up a big screen. If the image got too big, the image was too dim: a problem in all the big halls, but obviously compounded by the outsize RCMH screen.
The Plains Theatre was designed by Jack Corgan in 1946 for Theatre Enterprises. It was built of reinforced concrete. The Plains seated approximately 1000 on its main floor. At one side of the projection booth was a cry room and on the other -due to the regrettable segregation laws of the time- were 30 seats for “colored” patrons.
A triangle marquee and an elegant vertical sign were the main architectural features.
It was in the Brooklyn Paramount in 1930 that Ethel Merman really hit the big time. Obviously, Merman was alread on the way to being a star or she wouldn’t have been performing in such a first rate venue, but her voice and personality filling that 4000 seat hall got her some serious attention. Can you image the Paramount orchestra, the organ and Ethel Merman belting out an Irving Berlin tune? Really, I was born 60 years too late.
Photos imply that the Vendome saw few changes over its 80 year life. The high victorian decor – wooden fretwork, heavy curtains with elaborate tie-backs and oversize fringe, fully enclosed balcony boxes are clearly visible in the August 9, 1967 newspaper photos along with the destruction caused by the fire.
The local pronounciation was VAHN-dohm.
The site is now Nashville’s astonishingly wonderful public library: surely the best brand-new neo-classical buildings I’ve seen.
Found this link and thought it might be of interest.
http://cgi.cnn.com/STYLE/9812/07/egyptian.theatre/
When RCMH was presenting stage show and feature, were there short subjects and/or trailers?
Images from the renovation architects Hodgetts and Fung website may be seen here:
http://www.hplusf.com/1-arch-egy/egy.html
I personally find this sort of “re-invention” of a historic building appalling. As a design professional, I actively oppose such work and can and do offer alternate design solutions to achieve modern solutions to modern operation, safety and structural requirements.
At least the Egyptian still stands and these changes may one day be removed.
There is an apocryphal story that Plitt (which operated the competing United Artists theater just across from the Woods) purposefully booked a film into the “U.A” just because the name of the film was “Don’t Go Into The Woods.”
I’d love to know if this is true.
Jim and others, apologies. I did indeed miss the names listed in Jim’s excellent post from August 7. It appears I spent too much time writing and not enough time reading. Jim, many thanks for (1) providing the names and your source and (2) reinforcing that information with the post from this morning. Your good-natured slap on the wrist is accepted as deserved. I usually read Jim’s comments from top to bottom as they are among the best on the site.
Now, I’m off to see what more I can learn about that company.
Best wishes
Bruce, et al, often in a government funded “restoration” anything added to the building specifically may NOT match the original fabric. The current philosophy being that to “make it match” is a dis-honest attempt to fool people into believing that the additional material is actually original.
Certainly there is merit in the spirit of the mandate. Unfortunately, in execution, too often the designers make this their excuse to insert incongruous elements into an historic building and trumpet their anachronistic and egocentric designs as being intellectully superior to “banal historicist recreations” because they are intentionally ironic.
I.M. Pei’s glass pyramids at the Louvre are an example. (It’s not only the US which promotes this philosophy.) There are plenty of other examples, the Egyptian apparently being one.
Of course it is possible to embrace the spirit AND provide a beautiful restoration. The Sistine Chapel’s recent restoration was extrodinarily sensitive to both the requirements for clear deliniation between new and old material while at the same time not distracting the viewer by “ironic” intrusions.
So, I repeat my question from August 6: who was the architect that led the renovation of the Egyptian? In my opinion, this person should NOT be working on movie palaces. That name should be made public. There are plenty of restoration architects that DO know how to handle the demands of public funding and are proactively respectful of movie palace heritage. Their names should also be made public.
Best wishes all –
Actually, B&K installed that phenominal sound system just for “Tommy.” The story goes that the State Lake needed a new system anyway, but with “Tommy” booked, they actually went all out and installed the best system possible. It sure left an impression on everyone who heard it. And of couse, Tommy did make them a ton of money.
The little “mighty Wurlitzer” from the Venetian was installed at Holy Family Roman Catholic Church, Bayfield, Wisconsin around 1954. The organ is currently dis-used and non-operating though mostly intact. Sadly, it doesn’t look like the Venetian will survive to see its organ returned as has happened in a handful of other locations.
The organ is listed for sale as of this posting.
Dear atifilmgrl – the Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood is the only one I’ve heard of for sure. You can check out that theater on this site. Best wishes
I hope someone in the know will post the name of the architect and/or design firm which led the so-called restoration. Obviously, this is a person/firm which no one interested historic theaters should employ. Knowing who did this would be helpful.
Oops, sorry about the extraneous word “both” in the above. Only the one UA Theater intended. Proofing one’s own writing is difficult you know.
This is forwarded from SDH, formerly Plitt Theaters' managing director of the loop operations in the late 1970’s.
On the subject of popcorn and concessions deliveries, at both the United Artists, the organ lift was still in place and was used to take cups, popcorn seed, candy, and drink syrup to the basement.
‘Twas easier than the stairs, but the UA kept Loop hours (open at 8:00 AM) and the deliveries were made whilst the theatre was open: The teamsters would bring four-wheelers down Aisle Four, load the organ lift up with whatever, and the goods would sink into what had been the orchestra pit, in full view of the astonished first-show patrons. I never argued with it. They had been doing this for decades.
Norman, as proof positive, I have a 70MM film reel – ahem – “liberated” from the Palace as it was being demolished in 1985. It hangs proudly on the wall in the living room.
With the lobby already destroyed we explored the building from basement to booth. The projectors and sound heads were gone but otherwise the projection booth looked like it did the day the last film was shown. The building went down with even its seats still in place.
How long were RKO and Radio City associated? Did the stage shows under RKO exclusively feature acts/stars under RKO contract? Or were the stage shows always produced in-house. Of course vaudeville was all-but gone by the time Radio City opened, but as the RKO Palace continued to operate with a “variety” policy for many years, I’m curious if RKO’s contract players dominated the Music Hall’s “great stage.”
The Burning of Nome Alaska?
The Tennessee was the “flagship” of the Martin Theater chain.
The Music Box is now under new management. The partners who in 1983 leased and renovated the building and subsequently maintained the highest standards of presentation and spared no expense to create one of the best cinema experiences available anywhere were unable to negotiate a new lease with the building’s owner. The owner now plans to operate the Music Box himself though he has no experience in the field. Wishing him the best.
He has big shoes to fill. But of course, they’re his shoes.
Can we really fault the 1960’s – ‘70’s Music Hall management for insisting on “G” rated films even at the expense of profit? Certainly the result was the decline and near failure of the “Showplace of the Nation,” but they were actually trying to uphold a standard. In the face of a cultural and business shift RCMH seems to have tried to keep to the high road. It’s more than I can say for the managers who chopped their halls into mulit-plexes, went to porno or tore the halls down.
All of the super-palace class theaters (think Chicago’s Uptown, Paradise, Marbro, New York’s Capitol, Roxy, Center and many more) were financial balacing acts. We all held our breath when the Music Hall’s future hung in that balance. RCMH, for all its lack of vision in production at least remains intact, doors open and protected from demolition. If the Christmas shows pander to a specific audience AND pay the bills to keep the greatest theater ever built open, I for one won’t complain too much. As long as the hall stands, there’s hope that someday, some brilliant showman will come along who can draw the thousands necessary to make the money to pay the orchestra, the organists, the ballet, the Rockettes, the ushers, the engineers, the stage hands, the projectionists, the costumers, the choreographers, the publicists and everyone else it takes to create magnificent, wonderful, outlandish spectacle at “popular” prices.
I remain optimistic.
Simon – Thank you for putting down some memories. Your writing style and descriptions are exceptional. Can I pester you for more? Tell us about the training you got to be a Roxy and RCMH usher. Was there any of the military bravura that Ben Hall describes in his book? Were there sports teams? Did RCMH play the Capitol? Did you ever sing in the glee club? Or was all that just publicitiy hype?
Also, what were the accomodations like for the ushers? Is there a vast hidden suite of rooms? Where is it? Did you ever date a Rockette? Was the Center Theatre still there when you were working? Did you ever get sent there?
Details! Untold millions are sitting here eagerly waiting to hear every detail from someone who was there!
I am fortunate to know Stan Hightower, formerly managing director of the Loop Theaters for Plitt, a good friend who, over dinner and a cigarette, can tell stories of the big four Plitt “Loop” theaters that are much more entertaining than many of the pictures shown in those same halls. I asked him to send some memories of the State Lake which are copied below. I forgive him for being critical of the State Lake’s decor as he spent most of his time across the street in the dazzeling Chicago Theater.
For your consideration, here are Stan’s thoughts –
That sound system was indeed second to none. I remember when “Apocalypse Now” opened there in 70mm six-channel mag (lines around the block, etc), P B** was the manager and he happened to like the “Ride of the Valkyries,” so the projection staff were instructed to “crank it” when that particular scene came on. People were cowering in their seats trying to survive the blast. There were a couple of panels on the marquee which should have been
felted, organ-style, for they began to buzz like the old bronze
weather-stripping in a high wind. You could hear the sound track in the vestibule of the Chicago Theatre across the street. And not a hint of distortion.
Things I couldn’t stand about that theatre: Kroehler Pushbacks. And it was very, very ugly. Loew’s/Adam ugly. There were dumb pipe-fronts on the organ chambers, and a large monstrosity suspended from the middle of the dome, which we called the upside-down turtle-shell, because that’s exactly what it looked like. This silly thing held all the cove lights for the dome, and there was a ladder down to it from the “attic” (actually a space between the house ceiling and the eighth floor of the State-Lake building). Ugly as sin,
but the S-L was one of the top earners in the circuit when I was there. They turned some incredible grosses for a house with only 2700 seats, and the overhead was quite low because Balaban & Katz owned the office building.
The S-L was a great place to see a picture. Floors were raked exactly right, and there was a triad of Norelco AA2’s in the booth with Schneider lenses and Super-Cinex lamps. The picture was always bright, sharp, and punchy as hell.
I’ve heard that the reason there are 5 projectors is because “in the day” 2 prints were run simultaneously, one projecting onto the screen and one running with the dowser closed. I was told was that should a projector fail, film break, anything go wrong, they would instantly switch to the other running projector. Supposedly this was cheaper than refunding 6000 tickets.
Also regarding screen size, I have a 1926 Paramount magazine ad, (part of their “Friendship Means More at the Movies” ad campaign) that shows a theater full of happy people watching a tiny screen in a vast curtained movie palace proscenium. My old time projectionist buddy tells me that the pre WWII lamps simply weren’t bright enough to really light up a big screen. If the image got too big, the image was too dim: a problem in all the big halls, but obviously compounded by the outsize RCMH screen.
The Plains Theatre was designed by Jack Corgan in 1946 for Theatre Enterprises. It was built of reinforced concrete. The Plains seated approximately 1000 on its main floor. At one side of the projection booth was a cry room and on the other -due to the regrettable segregation laws of the time- were 30 seats for “colored” patrons.
A triangle marquee and an elegant vertical sign were the main architectural features.
It was in the Brooklyn Paramount in 1930 that Ethel Merman really hit the big time. Obviously, Merman was alread on the way to being a star or she wouldn’t have been performing in such a first rate venue, but her voice and personality filling that 4000 seat hall got her some serious attention. Can you image the Paramount orchestra, the organ and Ethel Merman belting out an Irving Berlin tune? Really, I was born 60 years too late.
Warren, thanks for the clarification. Do you accept personal e-mails?