So I guess what you are saying is that the balcony, which apparently was itself quite large, was only extended beyond its original dimensions to the screen ares during the most recent renovation. That makes a lot of sense. Thanks Paul.
One question, however. What exactly did you mean when you said that the “sloping roof” was removed? Did they literally “eaise the roof? If yes, what exactly did the original look like?
Bway, I think the elegant railing is original. Its Art Moderne design preferred neat lines over ornate flourishes. As a great popular architect, Lamb was able to provide designs that reflected the differing tastes of the times – and he really excelled in designing this lobby.
While I could only take a peek at the balcony theaters, it seemed clear to me that they were carved out of the old balcony – which was extended to the old stage – and not adapted from other space. But I can be mistaken and further research is necessary.
Bway, the Winthrop was about as tall – the equivalent of two stories – as the current supermarket. This is why the assertion that the Russell St. wall is a relic of the old theater is credible.
As I remember it, the Winthrop’s entrance – and its terrific awning – only occupied the center of what is now the supermarket. The left and right flanks were occupied by other businesses on both two floors. (Thanks to PhilJR for refreshing my memory on this point.) The theater’s lobby was a modest affair that lead directly into the auditorium. Upon leaving the lobby, you looked directly at the screen. The nearly 600 seats were located on one level, with no balcony. (While I may be wrong on this point, I do not believe that the Winnie was ever air conditioned. I distinctively remember viewing movies on hot afternoons that were only cooled – and very well muted – by two large fans.)
A very popular bar – I believe it was named Dekarski’s – was situated on the other side of Russell St. During the 1950’s, many very loud parties were held there. (Since I lived on the same block, I can very well attest to this fact.) Unless the Winnie was sound-proofed – which I am sure it was not – many movie goers certainly heard the revelry at Dekarski’s while they were attempting to enjoy the film. (The loudest moments, however, mostly occurred after the movie house had closed for the evening.)
A photographer’s shop was situated across the street from Dekarski’s. In 1958 or so, I remember having my First Holy Communion photographs taken here. At that time, the Winnie was still a going concern.
Located far from Greenpoint’s commercial center, the Winnie typifies the very localized nature of movie houses during cinema’s golden age. While it did last nearly a decade longer than the similarly situated Midway – which was located in a poorer section of Greenpoint – it is not surprising that the Winnie could not survive too long into the TV era. Anyhow, those of us who remember it, really miss it.
The picture was taken from the southwest corner of Driggs Ave. and Russell St. The Winnie was situated on the southeast corner – on the other side of Russell St. – and directly faced the park.
Although the theater opened about 15 years after the date of the picture, the park’s appearance had probably not radically changed during the interim. In the 1920’s or 30’s, however, the park’s soil was enriched and a large number of London Plane trees were planted here. They took root and soon dominated the landscape – as they do to this day. This is why many of us who grew up in the 50’s referred to Winthrop Park as “the Tree Park”. (Fortunately, London Planes were just about the only hard wood trees that the Chinese long horned beetles were not attracted to.) Thus, when I remember the Winnie, it was a theater that directly faced a forest of very large trees.
While it is possible that the Russell St. wall once also supported the old theater, it would be the only remaining relic, since the lot was totally reconstructed as part of the A&P supermarket construction.
I have just celebrated the second anniversary of my discovery of this wonderful site and the placement of my very first comment. I just wish I had discovered it much sooner.
During the past two years, CT has added a wonderful dimension to my life and provided the opportunity to meet, converse and – at times – disagree with a wonderful cast of characters. Congratulations on your anniversary and I hope you will continue this terrific venture for many years to come.
Also, the reissue of an updated version of your book is a wonderful idea. I am already reserving a spot onmy book shelf for it.
Well, it has been quite a while since anyone has commented on this page, and I still would be interested to hear more about the “devatating” fire that occurred here in the 1930’s – as noted by Lost Memory in a June 2007 comment. Any ideas?
While I am aware of CT’s policy to designate the theaters after their current or most recent name, it is most appropriate that an exception to the rules was made here. For nearly all of its existence, this theater was known as the Graham. The name change to the Capri only occurred during a very brief and eminently forgettable period when it served as a very shabby porn venue. (I do not even recall the name change.) Just about all of the persons who enjoyed the Graham had nothing to do with the Capri – and the Capri hardly became a porn movie mecca. So this is one situation where the “best memories” should trump the “last memories”.
Just finished reading this marvelous thread, one of the most interesting and informative on this web site. I always knew there was something special about this place, but I had no idea of its rich history.
I visited the Plaza a number of times during the 70’s and 80’s. The one movie that I recall seeing was the Garden of the Finzi Contini.
While a few persons have already noted it, I need to say a word about the wonderful basement lounge, which was, at least in my experience, the most civilized place in which to wait for the next showing. I remember once becomming so comfortable reading my book there that I actually regretted the fact that the movie was about to start and that I had to leave this place!
My guess is that the old lounge area now hosts a separate dining room. While it probably has been totally re-designed, this might be the one area where some relic of the former theater may have survived. Who knows?
Just a New Years wish that 2010 sees the designation of the Ridgewood as a NYC Landmark and the reopening of at least a portion of this gem as a movie house. And let’s hope it happens sooner rather than later!
Earlier today, my wife and I saw “Up in the Air” at the Midway. I strongly recommend it.
During the visit, I took a little time to investigate the lay-out of the place. Specifically, there are now four theaters on the ground floor and five at the balcony level. They basically divided the ground floor space into four quadrants, with the entrance to all situated about midway down the original center aisle. (We saw the movie in the far-east quadrant, which bordered the original movie screen.) All four theaters have been radically altered and possess little, if anything, of the original theater. The two theaters situated nearer to the lobby, in fact, reversed the original slant to accommodate the new sight lines. The seating, however, was very comfortable and well laid out.
I was also able to take a very quick peek into the upstairs theaters, all of which were carved out of the heavily renovated and extended old balcony. These are all very modern theaters with not a hint of Lamb. Even the ceilings have been dropped.
The one interior area of the Midway that remains relatively untouched is the central lobby, which was probably one of the old Midway’s most impressive features. Even here, however, the management has insisted upon placing large and very obstructive advertisements of future showings along Lamb’s beautiful second floor railing. But I guess they need to promote their product in these difficult times.
One final note. In its commendable efforts to aggressively promote this theater, the management has been urging local businesses to advertise their products between showings of the feature film. One of the businesses that took them up on this was a Japanese restaurant situated – at the Atlas Mall. I guess the mall’s local multi-plex is not drawing sufficient business to help this restaurant survive on its own. (And we all thought the mall would be the Cinemart’s death knell!)
Hope you find this interesting – and have a Happy New Year!
Location – or actually the lack of it – probably did contribute to the early demise of this theater. By the time you reach Montrose Avenue coming from Broadway, you have more than passed the limits of the Graham Ave. shopping district, which, in its hayday, was served by many movie houses. While, as Hector notes, the construction of Williamsburg Houses probably provided an incentive to build here, the project just did not generate sufficient critical mass to sustain such a large theater, especially during the post war era.
Perhaps if the Rainbow had been a more modest affair, with lower operating costs, it might have survived somewhat longer. But it wasn’t and it didn’t.
I first became acquainted with the Rainbow when I attended Most Holy Trinity HS, which was situated around the corner on Montrose Ave., during the mid-1960’s. By that time, it had already begun its second life as a church. I remember seeing a sign calling it the “Love Chapel” on the old awning.
Well, it has now been two years since I discovered this wonderful site and posted my first commment on this page. Unlike 2008, at least someone other than myself remembered the old Winnie in 2009. Hopefully, a picutre of this theater’s exterior will surface here sometime this year. As I remember it, the Winnie’s lightly colored awning, tinted mostly in white and yellow, was very attractive, although my memory here is faint and may not be very accurate. I would be more than happy to be proven wrong if an old picture is ever posted here.
2009 was a pretty good CT year for me, since I was able to add a movie theater to the list and made some contributions to the hopefully successful landmark designation of the old Ridgewood Theatre. And it has been fun conversing with the friends I have made on this site.
I am very glad to have stumbled over this page. Thr Kameo must rank with the old Woodside – and very few other sites – as a great example of what a loving community can do to preserve a wonderful site. Ken Roe et. al., thanks so much for the wonderful pictures.
Given its rather isolated location at the periphery of the Woodhaven and Richmond Hills communities, it is a little surprising that the Willard was the first Loews theater to open in Queens. One would have expected a more central location. This might have had something to do with its rather early cinematic demise.
Anyhow, while the Willard was history when I first discovered the site, I knew the Cordon Bleu very well and went to a number of functions there over the years. Since it always appeared to be busy, I’m surprised it closed.
While the catering hall made ample use of the Willard’s considerable space, I recall no remnants of a movie theater being retained in its interior.
One event I remember attending was a banquet sponsored by the Bushwick Salvation Army. (Many Brooklyn based groups held their events here.) While it was a very nice affair, the Army, unfortunately, rigidly enforced its “no alcohol” rule, making it a very long two and a half hours. Fortunately, a few good bars were – and still are – situated in the immediate vicinity.
In reviewing the last few posts and consulting the City’s Dept. of Building on-line file, I came up with a few facts and observations that I would now like to share. Here goes:
While the one story tax-payer now occupying this site was only constructed in 1987, it appears that the old home of the Rogers was not rased until at least 1985, though it, at that time, had probably been little more than an abandoned shell of its former self for a considerable number of years. That was when the “current structure” was designated as an “unsafe building”; it was probably demolished soon thereafter. (The same fate also occurred with just about all of the buildings previously situated on this block-front at around this time.)
A review of the certificate of occupany underlines just how little space was available for theatrical use. Specifically, the Rogers was situated in what was essentially the first floor of two, three story, adjacent residential structures. As the records clearly indicate, the two upper floors were occupied by either offices (on the second floor) or residences (on the third). This basically left the Rogers with only the first floor to use – and probably ruled out the existence of any balcony. (This provides further proof that the 1935 article referenced above did not concern this theater.)
Given these facts, it is surprising that the capacity of the Rogers was as large at it was. But capacity was actually set at approximately 590 persons in the late 1930’s and only reduced to 520 in the following decade – and the 488 capacity noted at the top of this page was only designated somewhat later.
In sum, the Rogers was probably, as Joe Vogal notes above, a real survivor of cinema’s “nickelodeon days”. If it had not been situated along one of Brooklyn’s main comercial drags, it would probably have closed upon the onset of the talking movie. but that did not occur – and the Rogers survived for many more years thereafter.
I thought you would be interested in reading the attached description of the walking tour that, among many other things, discusses the Colonial. We all had a great time.
No, the church was closed when we passed by, but the tour members took pictures of the exterior and one participant, who is active on Bushwick Buddies, shared his experiences at the old Colonial.
One place we WERE able to enter was the former 14 Holy Martyrs Church, which now serves as a Baptist chapel. (It is affiliated with the Pilgrim Baptist Church, whose main chapel is situated in the former Gates movie house on Broadway.) The old church, situated at the corner of Covert and Central, had scarcely changed its appearance and several stained glass windows were still in place.
Just wanted to note that, despite the cold weather, the walking tour went very well – and the old Colonial still stands very elegantly as the Wayside Baptist Church. Many of the stories noted in the previous comments were shared during the tour – and greatly enjoyed.
Let me add my two cents here in support of JF and Hector’s position.
First, the 1936 article sets the theater’s capacity at 600, which fits the Crown Heights Rogers to a t, but not the Broadway theater’s considerably smaller 488 seat capacity.
Second, and more importantly, as many of the previous comments suggest, the Williamsburg Rogers – with sawdust on the floors, cats in the aisles and an oater driven repertoire – would have been one of the last places to be featured as the subject of a classy upgrade. It was a fine and much beloved local movie house – nothing more and nothing less. It is also a prime example – as noted by my colleague Bway elsewhere on this site – of a modest building with an awning attached to it, that typiified a number of the modest early movie houses.
Just wanted you to know about a walking tour that I will be participating in on this Saturday, December 12th, that will explore the community around the old Colonial Theatre. It will also visit the two local cemetaries and other sites in southern Bushwick, including the old Alhambra Theatre at Irving Sq. Park.
The tour will meet on the Manhattan bound platform of the L train’s Broadway Junction station. For more information regarding this event, please access the link.
Thanks so much for the quick response to my suggestion. The knowledge that McElfatrick’s firm designed the Amphion underlines the “high class” status it enjoyed in its early years.
JF’s 1902 article also raises a few interesting points. Since it was written six full years before the place actually opened – at a time when things got built a lot more rapidly – this implies a contested consruction process. Perhaps a hint of this can be gleamed from the fact that the Greenpoint was, as per the article, initially proposed to be located AT – not near – the Manhattan/Calyer intersection. This implies that the developer may have envisioned a grand entrance at the corner but had to change plans when he could not acquire the buildings situated at and near the intersection. This also probably resulted in a change of design plans. Whatever the Greenpoint was, its design had hardly be described a Moorish, as the article said it would be. But one could certainly envision a grand Moorish entrance if it had been located directly on the corner.
So I guess what you are saying is that the balcony, which apparently was itself quite large, was only extended beyond its original dimensions to the screen ares during the most recent renovation. That makes a lot of sense. Thanks Paul.
One question, however. What exactly did you mean when you said that the “sloping roof” was removed? Did they literally “eaise the roof? If yes, what exactly did the original look like?
Bway, I think the elegant railing is original. Its Art Moderne design preferred neat lines over ornate flourishes. As a great popular architect, Lamb was able to provide designs that reflected the differing tastes of the times – and he really excelled in designing this lobby.
While I could only take a peek at the balcony theaters, it seemed clear to me that they were carved out of the old balcony – which was extended to the old stage – and not adapted from other space. But I can be mistaken and further research is necessary.
Bway, the Winthrop was about as tall – the equivalent of two stories – as the current supermarket. This is why the assertion that the Russell St. wall is a relic of the old theater is credible.
As I remember it, the Winthrop’s entrance – and its terrific awning – only occupied the center of what is now the supermarket. The left and right flanks were occupied by other businesses on both two floors. (Thanks to PhilJR for refreshing my memory on this point.) The theater’s lobby was a modest affair that lead directly into the auditorium. Upon leaving the lobby, you looked directly at the screen. The nearly 600 seats were located on one level, with no balcony. (While I may be wrong on this point, I do not believe that the Winnie was ever air conditioned. I distinctively remember viewing movies on hot afternoons that were only cooled – and very well muted – by two large fans.)
A very popular bar – I believe it was named Dekarski’s – was situated on the other side of Russell St. During the 1950’s, many very loud parties were held there. (Since I lived on the same block, I can very well attest to this fact.) Unless the Winnie was sound-proofed – which I am sure it was not – many movie goers certainly heard the revelry at Dekarski’s while they were attempting to enjoy the film. (The loudest moments, however, mostly occurred after the movie house had closed for the evening.)
A photographer’s shop was situated across the street from Dekarski’s. In 1958 or so, I remember having my First Holy Communion photographs taken here. At that time, the Winnie was still a going concern.
Located far from Greenpoint’s commercial center, the Winnie typifies the very localized nature of movie houses during cinema’s golden age. While it did last nearly a decade longer than the similarly situated Midway – which was located in a poorer section of Greenpoint – it is not surprising that the Winnie could not survive too long into the TV era. Anyhow, those of us who remember it, really miss it.
Bway, thanks so much for posting this picture.
The picture was taken from the southwest corner of Driggs Ave. and Russell St. The Winnie was situated on the southeast corner – on the other side of Russell St. – and directly faced the park.
Although the theater opened about 15 years after the date of the picture, the park’s appearance had probably not radically changed during the interim. In the 1920’s or 30’s, however, the park’s soil was enriched and a large number of London Plane trees were planted here. They took root and soon dominated the landscape – as they do to this day. This is why many of us who grew up in the 50’s referred to Winthrop Park as “the Tree Park”. (Fortunately, London Planes were just about the only hard wood trees that the Chinese long horned beetles were not attracted to.) Thus, when I remember the Winnie, it was a theater that directly faced a forest of very large trees.
While it is possible that the Russell St. wall once also supported the old theater, it would be the only remaining relic, since the lot was totally reconstructed as part of the A&P supermarket construction.
I have just celebrated the second anniversary of my discovery of this wonderful site and the placement of my very first comment. I just wish I had discovered it much sooner.
During the past two years, CT has added a wonderful dimension to my life and provided the opportunity to meet, converse and – at times – disagree with a wonderful cast of characters. Congratulations on your anniversary and I hope you will continue this terrific venture for many years to come.
Also, the reissue of an updated version of your book is a wonderful idea. I am already reserving a spot onmy book shelf for it.
Well, it has been quite a while since anyone has commented on this page, and I still would be interested to hear more about the “devatating” fire that occurred here in the 1930’s – as noted by Lost Memory in a June 2007 comment. Any ideas?
While I am aware of CT’s policy to designate the theaters after their current or most recent name, it is most appropriate that an exception to the rules was made here. For nearly all of its existence, this theater was known as the Graham. The name change to the Capri only occurred during a very brief and eminently forgettable period when it served as a very shabby porn venue. (I do not even recall the name change.) Just about all of the persons who enjoyed the Graham had nothing to do with the Capri – and the Capri hardly became a porn movie mecca. So this is one situation where the “best memories” should trump the “last memories”.
Too bad. But I guess they had to place kitchen somewhere. The old lounge would have made a very nice private dining and party room.
Just finished reading this marvelous thread, one of the most interesting and informative on this web site. I always knew there was something special about this place, but I had no idea of its rich history.
I visited the Plaza a number of times during the 70’s and 80’s. The one movie that I recall seeing was the Garden of the Finzi Contini.
While a few persons have already noted it, I need to say a word about the wonderful basement lounge, which was, at least in my experience, the most civilized place in which to wait for the next showing. I remember once becomming so comfortable reading my book there that I actually regretted the fact that the movie was about to start and that I had to leave this place!
My guess is that the old lounge area now hosts a separate dining room. While it probably has been totally re-designed, this might be the one area where some relic of the former theater may have survived. Who knows?
Just a New Years wish that 2010 sees the designation of the Ridgewood as a NYC Landmark and the reopening of at least a portion of this gem as a movie house. And let’s hope it happens sooner rather than later!
Earlier today, my wife and I saw “Up in the Air” at the Midway. I strongly recommend it.
During the visit, I took a little time to investigate the lay-out of the place. Specifically, there are now four theaters on the ground floor and five at the balcony level. They basically divided the ground floor space into four quadrants, with the entrance to all situated about midway down the original center aisle. (We saw the movie in the far-east quadrant, which bordered the original movie screen.) All four theaters have been radically altered and possess little, if anything, of the original theater. The two theaters situated nearer to the lobby, in fact, reversed the original slant to accommodate the new sight lines. The seating, however, was very comfortable and well laid out.
I was also able to take a very quick peek into the upstairs theaters, all of which were carved out of the heavily renovated and extended old balcony. These are all very modern theaters with not a hint of Lamb. Even the ceilings have been dropped.
The one interior area of the Midway that remains relatively untouched is the central lobby, which was probably one of the old Midway’s most impressive features. Even here, however, the management has insisted upon placing large and very obstructive advertisements of future showings along Lamb’s beautiful second floor railing. But I guess they need to promote their product in these difficult times.
One final note. In its commendable efforts to aggressively promote this theater, the management has been urging local businesses to advertise their products between showings of the feature film. One of the businesses that took them up on this was a Japanese restaurant situated – at the Atlas Mall. I guess the mall’s local multi-plex is not drawing sufficient business to help this restaurant survive on its own. (And we all thought the mall would be the Cinemart’s death knell!)
Hope you find this interesting – and have a Happy New Year!
Location – or actually the lack of it – probably did contribute to the early demise of this theater. By the time you reach Montrose Avenue coming from Broadway, you have more than passed the limits of the Graham Ave. shopping district, which, in its hayday, was served by many movie houses. While, as Hector notes, the construction of Williamsburg Houses probably provided an incentive to build here, the project just did not generate sufficient critical mass to sustain such a large theater, especially during the post war era.
Perhaps if the Rainbow had been a more modest affair, with lower operating costs, it might have survived somewhat longer. But it wasn’t and it didn’t.
I first became acquainted with the Rainbow when I attended Most Holy Trinity HS, which was situated around the corner on Montrose Ave., during the mid-1960’s. By that time, it had already begun its second life as a church. I remember seeing a sign calling it the “Love Chapel” on the old awning.
Well, it has now been two years since I discovered this wonderful site and posted my first commment on this page. Unlike 2008, at least someone other than myself remembered the old Winnie in 2009. Hopefully, a picutre of this theater’s exterior will surface here sometime this year. As I remember it, the Winnie’s lightly colored awning, tinted mostly in white and yellow, was very attractive, although my memory here is faint and may not be very accurate. I would be more than happy to be proven wrong if an old picture is ever posted here.
2009 was a pretty good CT year for me, since I was able to add a movie theater to the list and made some contributions to the hopefully successful landmark designation of the old Ridgewood Theatre. And it has been fun conversing with the friends I have made on this site.
Happy New Year!
I am very glad to have stumbled over this page. Thr Kameo must rank with the old Woodside – and very few other sites – as a great example of what a loving community can do to preserve a wonderful site. Ken Roe et. al., thanks so much for the wonderful pictures.
Given its rather isolated location at the periphery of the Woodhaven and Richmond Hills communities, it is a little surprising that the Willard was the first Loews theater to open in Queens. One would have expected a more central location. This might have had something to do with its rather early cinematic demise.
Anyhow, while the Willard was history when I first discovered the site, I knew the Cordon Bleu very well and went to a number of functions there over the years. Since it always appeared to be busy, I’m surprised it closed.
While the catering hall made ample use of the Willard’s considerable space, I recall no remnants of a movie theater being retained in its interior.
One event I remember attending was a banquet sponsored by the Bushwick Salvation Army. (Many Brooklyn based groups held their events here.) While it was a very nice affair, the Army, unfortunately, rigidly enforced its “no alcohol” rule, making it a very long two and a half hours. Fortunately, a few good bars were – and still are – situated in the immediate vicinity.
In reviewing the last few posts and consulting the City’s Dept. of Building on-line file, I came up with a few facts and observations that I would now like to share. Here goes:
While the one story tax-payer now occupying this site was only constructed in 1987, it appears that the old home of the Rogers was not rased until at least 1985, though it, at that time, had probably been little more than an abandoned shell of its former self for a considerable number of years. That was when the “current structure” was designated as an “unsafe building”; it was probably demolished soon thereafter. (The same fate also occurred with just about all of the buildings previously situated on this block-front at around this time.)
A review of the certificate of occupany underlines just how little space was available for theatrical use. Specifically, the Rogers was situated in what was essentially the first floor of two, three story, adjacent residential structures. As the records clearly indicate, the two upper floors were occupied by either offices (on the second floor) or residences (on the third). This basically left the Rogers with only the first floor to use – and probably ruled out the existence of any balcony. (This provides further proof that the 1935 article referenced above did not concern this theater.)
Given these facts, it is surprising that the capacity of the Rogers was as large at it was. But capacity was actually set at approximately 590 persons in the late 1930’s and only reduced to 520 in the following decade – and the 488 capacity noted at the top of this page was only designated somewhat later.
In sum, the Rogers was probably, as Joe Vogal notes above, a real survivor of cinema’s “nickelodeon days”. If it had not been situated along one of Brooklyn’s main comercial drags, it would probably have closed upon the onset of the talking movie. but that did not occur – and the Rogers survived for many more years thereafter.
I thought you would be interested in reading the attached description of the walking tour that, among many other things, discusses the Colonial. We all had a great time.
View link
No, the church was closed when we passed by, but the tour members took pictures of the exterior and one participant, who is active on Bushwick Buddies, shared his experiences at the old Colonial.
One place we WERE able to enter was the former 14 Holy Martyrs Church, which now serves as a Baptist chapel. (It is affiliated with the Pilgrim Baptist Church, whose main chapel is situated in the former Gates movie house on Broadway.) The old church, situated at the corner of Covert and Central, had scarcely changed its appearance and several stained glass windows were still in place.
Just wanted to note that, despite the cold weather, the walking tour went very well – and the old Colonial still stands very elegantly as the Wayside Baptist Church. Many of the stories noted in the previous comments were shared during the tour – and greatly enjoyed.
Let me add my two cents here in support of JF and Hector’s position.
First, the 1936 article sets the theater’s capacity at 600, which fits the Crown Heights Rogers to a t, but not the Broadway theater’s considerably smaller 488 seat capacity.
Second, and more importantly, as many of the previous comments suggest, the Williamsburg Rogers – with sawdust on the floors, cats in the aisles and an oater driven repertoire – would have been one of the last places to be featured as the subject of a classy upgrade. It was a fine and much beloved local movie house – nothing more and nothing less. It is also a prime example – as noted by my colleague Bway elsewhere on this site – of a modest building with an awning attached to it, that typiified a number of the modest early movie houses.
PS. The tour will meet at the station platform at 11 AM and last until around 2 PM. Sorry for this not insignificant oversight!
Just wanted you to know about a walking tour that I will be participating in on this Saturday, December 12th, that will explore the community around the old Colonial Theatre. It will also visit the two local cemetaries and other sites in southern Bushwick, including the old Alhambra Theatre at Irving Sq. Park.
The tour will meet on the Manhattan bound platform of the L train’s Broadway Junction station. For more information regarding this event, please access the link.
Hope you can make it.
View link
Thanks so much for the quick response to my suggestion. The knowledge that McElfatrick’s firm designed the Amphion underlines the “high class” status it enjoyed in its early years.
JF’s 1902 article also raises a few interesting points. Since it was written six full years before the place actually opened – at a time when things got built a lot more rapidly – this implies a contested consruction process. Perhaps a hint of this can be gleamed from the fact that the Greenpoint was, as per the article, initially proposed to be located AT – not near – the Manhattan/Calyer intersection. This implies that the developer may have envisioned a grand entrance at the corner but had to change plans when he could not acquire the buildings situated at and near the intersection. This also probably resulted in a change of design plans. Whatever the Greenpoint was, its design had hardly be described a Moorish, as the article said it would be. But one could certainly envision a grand Moorish entrance if it had been located directly on the corner.
Sorry, the link was JF’s next to the last posting. This is the article dated in 1902.
Here is the Greenpoint’s CT page. The article referenced above was JF’s final posting for 12/4/09.
/theaters/4136/