I don’t think that the Ed Sullivan Theater (located on the west side of Broadway, between 53rd and 54th Sts.) was ever a movie theater, but I will have to look it up later. There are brief histories of it (with photos) in a number of theater books, including, I believe, William Morrison’s “Broadway Theatres: History and Architecture,” and Mary Henderson’s “The City and the Theater.”
The Adelphi Theater, which was where I think the one half-hour “Hooneymooners” series was done for its one season, is a different theater from the Ed Sullivan Theater and was located on the south side of 54th St., just east of Seventh Ave. Before and after housing the “Honeymooners” it was a “legit” Broadway theater that housed shows like “On the Town” and “No Strings.” In its last years, the Adlephi was called the 54th St. Theater and the George Abbott Theater.
However, the Jackie Gleason show itself, which often included a “Honeymooners” sketch, was done, I believe, at the Ed Sullivan Theater in its New York days. At that time, the theater was called, according to the IBDB, CBS Studio No. 50.
For quick histories, both of these theaters are can be found on the Internet Broadway Database. (I’d post a link, but I’ve seen that sometimes this causes problems on the Cinema Treasures webpage.)
In the early 1960s (?), I saw the original production of the “Sound of Music” at the Lunt-Fontanne. I also saw “Little Me” there (possibly the last Saturday matinee?). In later years, I saw both “Beatlemania” and revivals of “Hello Dolly” and “My Fair Lady” there.
What I found striking about the theater, especially in the early 1960s, was the quality of the remodeling job that they did when they converted it back to a stage theater from a movie theater. To my young eyes they did a really spectacular job. (But I’ve read some comments from the time, where some people felt they actually overdid it.) I’ve seen numerous pictures of the Globe / Lunt-Fontanne recently, but I’m not sure where. But I think there are pictures of it in the Dover paperback by William Morrison, “Broadway Theaters: History and Architecture,” and in Robert A.M. Stern’s “New York 1960.”
On the outside, the remodeling incorporated two rather unusual — and pleasant — features: 1) a terrazzo (sp?) sidewalk (Terrazzo is a synthetic flooring that kind of looks like polished marble. Many office buildings have terrazzo flooring.); 2) a handsome, ersatz Beaux Art marquee /canopy that had built-in space heaters on its underside. (I’m pretty sure this marquee / canopy is still there.)
Across the street, the Helen Hayes Theater also had been remodeled about the same time. I kind of wonder if it was owned at that time by the same owners, because it shared some of these features. It too had the handsome, ersatz Beaux Art marquee with the built-in space heaters on the underside. (Don’t recall if it had the terrazzo sidewalk.)
Between the two theaters, this street really had a great “look.” Both of the theaters had unusually grand — but, urbane — architecture for a New York City “legit” theater, and it was like having two grand palazzi (sp?) facing each other on opposite sides of a small New York City side-street. Plus, next door to the Helen Hayes, to the east, was the almost equally handsome facade of the Gaiety (although you had to peek up behind the billboard that covered it), and next door, to the west, were one or two brownstones that had been extended out to the sidewalk and contained the original (?) “Dinty Moore’s.” The exterior of Dinty Moore’s had lots of brass (used, for instance, in brass railings), and even in the 1960s they had someone going out there, contantly polishing the brass.
Before showtime, and during intermissions, the street took on a wonderful festive air. People spilled out onto the sidewalks (especially to smoke) and it looked like a big party! (I remember that at one time, Huntington Hartford’s short-lived magazine, “Show,” had a photo essay on the theater district, and one of my favorite photos in it was of people smoking outside the Helen Hayes during intermission.)
If I remember correctly, the time that I waited outside the Lunt-Fontanne during the run of Richard Burton’s “Hamlet,” Liz and Dick (at that time the world’s most scandalous couple by far) really “went with it”! A “handsom cab” pulled up to the theater, they climbed in and were romantically wisked off by a horse and carriage! (No fringe on the top, though!)
I believe Christopher Gray, who writes the “Streetscapes” column for the Sunday “New York Times,” once wrote an article about the Lunt-Fontanne. It had been rumored that the orginal Globe had what today we would call a “moon roof,” which could be opened in good weather. During the various remodelings, however, the “moon roof” opening was, I believe, plastered over. But, if I remember it correctly, Gray was able to get a close-up look of the remaining mechanism from on top of the roof, and he wrote about it in the “Times.”
The question becomes, “what, EXACTLY, is it that one would be trying to preserve through landmark designation?” Preservationists are usually very conscious that there has to be a legitimate reason for the government to designate private property as a landmark. Usually they favor landmark designation because of a building’s architectural or historical significance (or some combination).
Preservationists, so it seems to me, usually go to great pains to point out that they do NOT designate landmarks to preserve uses, to freeze (in a general way) a certain time or place, or to indulge in sentimental feelings (especially those of a small group of aficionados).
As I believe Warren, for example, was trying to point out, there appears to be a much better (more architecturally distinguished, more intact) example of the Times Square movie “palace” than the Mayfair. (And it also has some imporatance as a “legitimate” theater as well.) And this is not even to mention, the even grander outer borough movie palaces like the Paradise, the Valencia, the Brooklyn Paramount, the Kings and the Triboro and the Keith (the last two of which were essentially lost despite very strong credentials and efforts to save them).
And even if the Columbia hadn’t been transformed into the Mayfair, there are better examples of early 20th Century “legitimate” and “burlesque” theaters (some of which are already landmarked).
So, given the info that I’ve seen so far, I see only an extremely weak arguement — near non-existent, really — for landmarking, at least in terms of the generally accepted criteria that’s been used by preservationists over the years. And I think the argument would be weak, so it seems to me, even in the earlier, apparently less political, days of the Landmark Preservation Commission.
But who knows? I’ve been surprised by some of the buildings that have actually been designated and I’ve been surprised by some of buildings that haven’t even gotten a public hearing regarding designation.
If I correctly understand the property data provided on the OASIS NYC website, the Ziegfeld is on the same zoning lot (block 1007, lot 29) as the the adjacent through-block “park” and adjacent office building (whose official address seems to be 120 W. 55th St.) The lot is listed as being 200 ft. wide (the width of most mid-town Manhattan blocks), and 500 ft. deep. (I believe the blocks between Sixth and Seventh are about 800 ft. deep, so this is a pretty deep lot.)
The maximum FAR (floor area ratio) allowed on the site is 12, but the actual FAR seems to be 19.9, which means that the builders qualified for one or more bonuses. They probably got a bonus for the front and side plazas, plus a bonus for the through-block park. Whether a bonus was given for a movie theater on this site, I don’t know.
(I also mention some of the zoning issues for this site in my April 14th post in this thread, above — but at that time I hadn’t looked up the site on OASIS NYC yet.)
While I doubt they would be able to build more office space on the Ziegfeld site — I think all the office space allowed is already in the tower on the other side of the through-block “park,” I would imagine they could change the use of the Ziegfeld Theater (unless they got a bonus for building it). So maybe it could become a “Toys R Us” (as someone joked in an earlier post) or a good-sized disco, etc.
If there were plans to close the Ziegfeld (due to a lack of profitability), I’d be very surprised if the outcry was significantly greater than the (apparently very little outcry) for the Beekman and Cinema I, II & III. But, then again, I’ve been surprised to read that people consider the Ziegfeld a “treasure” and a “movie palace,” so who knows, maybe there is a large and vocal group of fans who could provide sufficient pressure. But, given the the theater’s lack of distinguished architecture and the lack of any genuine historical importance (understandable, since it was only built in the late 1960s), it’s hard to imagine what kind of appeal could be made and what kind of pressure exerted.
My guess is that the Ziegfeld will survive, however, because it does seem to be profitable for certain kinds of films and because it might be difficult to find an economically compelling alternative use for for this site, given the zoning.
I think we might be talking about different fire escapes.
(To summarize and clarify: The “liner” office building around the Mayfair that is being discussed has an “L” shaped footprint, with the long part of the “L” running along 47th St. and the short part of the “L” running up Seventh Ave.)
If I understand you correctly, the fire escapes that you see are ones that start on the top floor (but on the “backside,” not the “streetside”) of the office buiding. I would assume that these fire escapes were always there for the office workers in the office building and were separate and apart from those needed to evacuate theater patrons less high up in the building.
The fire escapes that I was thinking about were on the street side of the building and jutted out from the long side of the “L,” from only about half-way up the building. I assume these fire escapes were devoted solely to evacuation of the masses of patrons occupying the Columbia’s two balconies.
After posting my question, it occured to me that maybe the fire escapes were hidden behind the giant billboard? In other words, maybe the billboard was hung, in part, upon the fire escapes? But I’m not sure if the City would have allowed them to jut such a billboard that far out over the sidewalk.
Regarding the definition of “landmark”:
Actually the definition of “landmark” appears to be contracting rather than expanding. This is part of the controversy about the Landmarks Preservation Commission that I mention in a recent post on the Beekman thread on the Cinema Treasures website.
Even before the apparent recent shrinkage in the definition of what constitutes a landmark, however, it seems to me that NYC landmarks, more often than not, are designated primarily for their architectural, rather than their historical, value. (Additionally, some kinds of architecture seem to be guarded more protectively than others.) I think this is because most people concerned with landmarks tend to be interested in design more than history. (And those in power seem to favor certain styles of architecture over others.) But there are, of course, exceptions, especially when a building has an overwhelming historic importance. (For example, my guess is that the NYU building that was the site of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire is one of these — architecturally undistinguished, but historically very important.)
Not to be political, but it seems to me that since the Giuliani (and perhaps Dinkens) administration, the LPC has been a lot “stingier” about designating landmarks. (The LPC is essentially controlled by the reigning Mayor.) I think what happened is by this time, 20-25 years after the signing of the landmarks law, so many buildings and areas had been designated landmarks that people were concerned about going “over board” with landmarking — impeding future development. So developers (and others) were often able to use this concern to prevail upon the Mayor/LPC not to support landmark designation — or even hold a public hearing — on certain possible landmarks.
What really disturbs me about all of this is that rather than address this issue in a straightforward way, the last two (or three?) Mayors have apparently decided to use secret, behind the scenes maneuvering to decide which buildings get, or do not get, a public hearing for possible designation. So in the end, it seems to me, landmarking in NYC has become more and more a matter of who knows whom, being a political “insider,” and being on the “right” side of the various culture “wars,” etc.
While certainly no expert on real estate, zoning and landmarks preservation, I may be a little more familiar with them then most posters on this site, and it seems to me (from my still admittedly sketchy knowledge in these areas) that some of the posts in this thread have stated a number of misconceptions. So here are some thoughts that I believe might help.
Judging from the listing for the property (701 Seventh Ave.) on the OASIS NYC website, the lot that the theater / office building is on is a rectangular one (on this site they show a map), with a lot frontage of 160 ft. and a lot depth of 100.42 ft. The OASIS site says the structure on the property was built in 1909. (But I think I’ve noticed inaccuracies in this site in the past.) (I’m not sure how to properly post a link to this site [without messing up the Cinema Treasures website in the process], but the site can be easily found using a search engine. Once on the site you choose what kind of info you want, I chose “Property Data,” and type in the address, or block and lot if you prefer, and the borough.)
From what I can tell from this info and from general knowledge about theaters in New York City, the relationship of the Mayfair (which is what I’ll call the Embassy 2, 3, 4) to the office building that is apparently wrapped around it on two sides is not at all complicated or unusual. Even in the days when these old Times Sq. theaters were built (mostly in the first quarter of the 20th Century), Manhattan land was very expensive and valuable and builders understandably wanted to make the most of their property. So a good many theaters were built with small office buildings over a portion of the “theater.” Since building regulations then didn’t allow builders to actually build over the auditorium itself, the builders usually built over other areas of the theater â€" particularly over the entrance / lobby. (Good examples of this are the New Amsterdam, the Hudson and the original Palace [the building before they built the current hotel]. This is why, by the way, so many New York City theaters “photograph” so poorly â€" sometimes bizarrely so. What you are really seeing is the office building that has been built over the tunnel entrance / lobby.
By the way, as building technologies changed, I believe they changed the rules regarding building above an auditorium, so that some of the new buildings appear to be cantilevered over adjacent auditoriums. (I believe this is what they did, for instance, for the hotel above the Palace, across the street from the Mayfair.)
Given the fascinating post by pscribner on Feb. 25th, it would seem that the Columbia Amusement Company, built the Columbia as their flagship burlesque theater and then built the office building along the properties two street frontages for use as their headquarters, with some of the office space being rented out to others also.
One of the photos I’ve seen of the building in it’s early days (it may be the one that Warren graciously offered to send people) shows that at one time the 47th St. side of the office building was faced with three (?) long fire escapes. This set up of (ugly) exterior fire escapes seems quite common in theaters of the time. I believe a lot of the 42nd St. theaters, for instance, had a “maze” of fire escapes on their 41st St. sides (and may still have them today). Plus, even the very prestigious Ziegfeld Theater on Sixth Ave. had (somewhat stylized) fire escapes on its 54th St. side. So one of the questions I wonder about is what did they do with the fire escapes when they remodeled the Columbia as the Mayfair? My guess is that the office building was less valuable by then, and that they put the fire stairs through unoccupied office space. Another guess is that when they remodeled the theater they didn’t add 950 seats (changing the seating capacity, which I believe Warren mentions in one of his posts, from 1,350 to 2,300) but perhaps reduced the number of seats or, at least reconfigured their arrangement, to reduced the number of fire escapes needed.
Another question I have, which others have raised, is what did they do with all the space behind the billboards. (I wonder the same about the office spaces above the tunnel entrance lobbies for the Astor and the Victoria.) This question may have been partially answer by the real estate link posted by CConnelly, it seems as though this space was rented out for recording studios — which are just right for windowless spaces.
In the late 1960s / early 1970s, the City created a special theater zoning district which allowed builders to build an extra amount of office space in their buildings if they also built a theater (or similar facility) on their zoning lot. The first theater to be built under this program was the Minskoff in the W.T. Grant, now One Astor Plaza (?) Building (which replaced the Astor Hotel). The Gershwin in the Uris (which replaced the Capitol) was also built under this zoning, and I believe the Ziegfeld (movie) theater and its adjacent office building (which replaced the original Ziegfeld among other buildings) may have also been built under this zoning.
If I recall correctly, the reason the City did this (under Mayor John Lindsay) was that they were afraid that new office buildings would more and more replace the old Broadway theaters and that no new theaters would ever be built to replace the old ones â€" leaving the Times Sq. area as just another Manhattan office district. (The story of the creation of the Special Times Square Zoning District is covered in Jonathan Barnett’s book, “Urban Design as Public Policy.” Barnett was part of the team that came up with the idea.)
This is the underlying economics that they probably had in mind: theaters, especially legitimate theaters, are very “inefficient” users of space. They take up a lot of land (you can have just so many mezzanines and balconies) and are only using the land eight times a week at most. And they can be empty for many, many months between hit shows â€" all the while the theater owner has to pay taxes, etc. (And while now quite as bad, movie theaters have similar economics â€" the one big difference these days being that you can indeed have a “skyscraper” multiplex â€" like the Loew’s on lower Third Ave., for instance.) So basically there seems to be an incentive for builders to buy old Manhattan theaters for future development as a modern office building or apartment house, and a disincentive to build modern legitimate theaters (and modern single screen movie theaters).
Looking at my Hagstom’s map, which gives a rough idea of the size of the lots of various theaters, it seems to me that the Mayfair property — by itself — is actually a bit on the small side, especially when you consider that modern day zoning would not allow a builder to build straight up from the street the way they did on this site in 1909. My guess is that a modern day developer would probably want to assemble all the properties along Seventh Ave. on that block before deciding to build something. (The Mayfair footprint seems to be the same size as that of the old Earl Carroll Theater on the southeast corner of 50th and Sixth, and this building was allowed to stand until all the properties along Seventh Ave. on that block were assembled and the market was right for a new office building.)
I tried to find on the Landmark’s Preservation Commission website a list of all the theaters that have been designated landmarks, but I wasn’t able to find one. But judging from those that I do know to be landmarks, and judging from the current controversies regarding the LPC, it seems to me that the chances of the Mayfair ever being designated a landmark are very, very slim. There doesn’t seem to be anything really special about the Mayfair from an architectural or historical perspective. And remember, even the Beekman and Cinema 1, 2 and 3 which both seem, at least to me, to have more credentials can’t seem to get, apparently, even a hearing about possible designation.
What I find interesting about the Columbia / Mayfair / DeMille is how low-profile this theater seems to have been. I wonder why this is the case?. (If this is, in fact, the case.) Here are some guesses:
Partly I think it is because of the peculiarities of the theater’s history. Books on the theaters of Broadway, like Henderson’s, Van Hoostraten’s and Morrison’s, don’t seem to have any info on it because it was never, apparently, a “legitimate” theater — but a burlesque / movie house instead. A book like “The Best Remaining Seats” doesn’t seem to include the Mayfair because it was a “Johnny-come-lately” retro-fit movie theater and neither an historic pioneer (like the Regent or Rialto) nor a “true” movie palace. Books that are primarily architecturally oriented, like the AIA Guide, Stern’s “1960” (I haven’t looked it up in his earlier books, though), etc. don’t seem to mention it because, despite the apparent attractiveness of its interior, it was not particularly special or unique when it was reconstructed as the Mayfair. And popular guidebooks, like the WPA Guide to NYC, don’t seem to mention much about it either, because, again it was “just another” big movie theater, among many, when it was constructed.
So, in a way, this theater (along with those two old vaudeville [?] theaters on Eighth Ave.) seems to have “fallen between the cracks.”
Speaking personally, I don’t ever recall having been interested in visiting this theater in any way — although in the 1960s and late 1950s I was interested in seeing movies in many of the other theaters in this area. And again I wonder why?
I wonder if it is because of the kind of movies that the theater showed. I was too young to see, “Psycho.” And it seems to me that all the other “big” movies that I was interested in seeing in the 1960s all seemed to play other theaters in the Times Sq. area instead.
And although the DeMille was hidden by an office building (which was, in turn, covered by a billboard), I don’t think this was the reason — because I was always intrested in seeing what the interiors of the Astor and Victoria were like, and they too were behind office buildings that were covered by a gigantic billboard.
So, I’m wondering if the design of the lobby and marquee may have had something to do with it? One reason I always wanted to go into the Astor (and, perhaps, to a lesser extent the Victoria), for instance, was because their designs “drew you in.” The Astor in particular was redesigned in such a way (hard to describe) that the inside of the theater seemed to extend out to the sidewalk. The same was true, I believe, to some extent with the Strand (Warner?). And, if I remember correctly, you could actually see the grand stairway (by that time a grand escalator) of the Capitol from the street.
The marquees and street entrances of the Rivoli and Loew’s State both seemed to me to be very glamorous in a modern sort of way. (And while not a movie theater at the time, in the 1960s the underside of the Winter Garden theater was a spectacular profusion of light bulbs, although I don’t think it was in good repair and still in use by that time. But it still seemed very impressive.)
So, in a way, my personal experience would seem to bear out the belief of movie theater builders and operators that spectacular “packaging” will help make people interested in your product. Along these lines, one of the websites mentioned in the Roxy theater thread mentions, I believe, that early theater owners often built very wide, arcade-like entrances for just this very reason — to catch the eye and draw people in. (I believe the link was quoting one of the classic movie palace books — but not the Ben Hall one.)
I’m not sure about this, but I think Gray once did an article on the the spectacular Art Deco, 3,000+ (?) seat, Earl Carroll Theater that once existed on the southeast corner of Seventh Ave. and 50th St. Although the theater had been closed for many years — with a Woolworth’s occupying the ground level space — the structure existed until relatively recently, when it was torn down for the construction of the office tower that ultimately became the Lehman Bros. building.
It seems to me that Gray usually does his articles when something of note is happening to a building (e.g., it’s being sold, refurbished, torn down, etc.). So I think this piece was done when the Earl Carroll was finally scheduled to be torn down. Again, if I remember correctly, Gray got permission from the owners to visit the untouched space that was above the Woolworth’s.
But it is also possible that I’ve misremembered this and that the article that I think I read in the “Times” was actually written by Nicholas Van Hoostraten, the author of “Lost Broadway Theaters,” instead. Hoostraten writes in his book about getting permission from Rockefeller Center, Inc. (the skyscraper’s builders) to visit the areas above the Woolworth before the building was torn down.
By the way, there are great pictures of Earl Carroll Theater (and many others, including some that had also been used as movie theaters) in a Dover paperback, “Broadway Theaters: History and Architecture,” by William Morrison. A few weeks ago at the Strand bookstore, there were stacks of brand new copies of this book being sold for less than the already relatively inexpensive cover price.
If I remember correctly, there are also some great photos of the Hippodrome in the Morrison book, including one of the interior of the auditorium that I haven’t seen in my, admittedly quick, viewing of the links in this thread.
Given the very tight space contraints for his column, I thought Gray actually covered the diverse history of the Hippoadrome site very well, particularly here:
“Other theater operators continued Thompson’s spectaculars, but Milton Epstein’s exhaustive "The New York Hippodrome: A Complete Chronology of Performances, From 1905 to 1939” (Theater Library Association, 1993) shows a gradual increase in the number of concerts, sports events, benefits and other more traditional offerings, less expensive to produce."
I think it’s also important to remember that his column is not billed as (or intended to be) an in-depth history of theaters and cinemas, but a brief column/“update” about New York City’s changing streetscape — particularly, it seems to me, it’s architecture.
It’s funny that Gray should have a column published on the Hippodrome just as he was being discussed in the Embassy 2, 3, 4 thread on this site. I briefly met Gray a number of years before he actually started writing his column, and have been a fan of his from the beginning. I think he could have done a really interesting and useful article on the Embassy 2, 3, 4 (I agree it should really be listed as the Mayfair, instead), and I’m about to post on the Embassy 2, 3, 4 thread a suggestion about how I think it might be possible to still get him to do one.
P.S. — I get the feeling that the database for each of the various photo archives on the NYPL site is separate from all the others. So if, for example, you are seaching for the the “XYZ Building” in the Milstein collection, you will not be searching for the “XYZ Building” in all the other collections. (This is just a guess on my part.)
Plus it seems to me that the collections are not organized the way one may think they “should.” For instance, I think I saw that one photo of a theater I was interested in was labeled “drugstore” because to the archivist the drugstore in the photo was more noteworthy than the theater.
I say this because I suspect that there may be a number of interesting theater photos scattered throughout the various collections, but that it will probably involve lots of scrolling through the various collections to actually find them — that the search feature is of limited value.
I went back to NYPL Milstein Collection (officially listed as, “Photographic Views of New York City, 1870s -1970s”) and found a 1917 photo of the Columbia Theater. The entrance to the Columbia Theater was indeed further to the south — symetrically (sp?) in the center of the facade.
The windows above the Columbia’s tunnel lobby entrance seem to be basically the same as those for the Mayfair. What was changed in the remodeling were the windows above the new entrance. So maybe the “Paramount” style of entrance was the new thing, and they did it with the Mayfair too?
I was unsure how to properly post a link, but here’s how you can find the photo:
1) You go to the main NYPL Digital Archive page;
2) then to “Cities and Buildings”;
3) then to “Phtographic Views of New York City, 1870s-1900s” (Milstein);
4) then search for (Photo ID) 709811F. It’s on page 191 of the thumbnails.)
It’s interesting to read that the opening movie at the Mayfair was an Amos ‘n Andy film called “Check and Double Check.” There is a comic song in the (terrific!) musical “Fine and Dandy” (1930) that uses the phrase “check and double check” with reference to Amos 'n Andy. I still don’t completely get the joke in the song, but at least I now have an idea of what the song was getting at. (By the way, a modern day, first-time recording of this show was released on CD a few months ago, and for those interested in popular music of the 1930s it is a wonderful find — like discovering a brand new score by George Gershwin. (Gershwin was, in fact, the boyfriend of Kay Swift, the composer of this show. Her soon to be ex-husband, Paul James, did the lyrics.)
I wonder how they added almost a thousand seats when they re-did the Columbia (1,350 seats) as the Mayfair (2,300 seats)? Just guessing from the various info that’s been posted so far: A) Perhaps the Mayfair seats were a lot smaller than the slightly larger than average Columbia seats?; B) Also, maybe they increased the size of the auditorium by taking away most of the Columbia’s stage? (I think they did something along these lines when Edward Durrell Stone remodeled the Gaiety as the Victoria.)
Still, that seem’s like a really large number of seats to add into the unchanged shell, and footprint, of an auditorium — especially since they didn’t seem to add a balcony (as the original theater had two separate balconies), but may have actually taken a balcony away (as the movie theater had a lodge and mezzanine, and it is unclear whehter this means two different balconies, or the front and back sections of one balcony).
Then, again, since we all know that Radio City Music Hall (and other venues of the time, too) didn’t always have the number of seats they were supposed to, maybe the 2,300 seat info is just PR?
I also wonder about the northward move of the theater’s tunnel lobby entrance. Where can this info be located? If it’s in “before and after” photos of the building, it would be interesting to see if they also redid the second and third floors of the office building when they moved the entrance. I say this because, architecturally speaking, the area above the “old” Columbia Theater entrance looks all “wrong” for an area above a theater’s tunnel lobby entrance, while the area above the Mayfair’s “new” marquee looks the way the area above a tunnel lobby entrance “should” look (e.g., compare it with the area above the Paramount Theater’s entrance).
By the way there are additional photos on the NYPL website of this building and, I believe, the Columbia Theater under construction. I forgot exactly how I found them, but I think you go to the Milstein collection and “scroll” through the collection street by street. (From what I remember, the photos can be accessed “geographically” — at least that’s the way I did it [but I’m not that technically savvy], with the low numbered streets and avenues being shown first.)
The Milstein collection also has some interesting photos of the Roxy under construction, and various other interesting photos of the theater district. (Most of the photos seemed to me to be from the very first third of the 20th Century — with lots of photos of brownstones (that were eventually replaced by theaters, etc.)!
I think it’s a mistake to discount the effectiveness of established landmark preservation and “neighborhood groups” — especially those from the Upper East Side of Manhattan!!! Not only do the people in these groups know what’s been going on all along (where the pressure points are, etc.) but the people in these groups tend to be “in the know” kind of people to begin with. Actually, if anyone has Harvey Weinstein’s phone number, it’s likely to be someone in one of these groups (although I doubt they are going to be giving it out to any newcomers, though).
Why try and reinvent the wheel? Judging from the “Our Town” article mentioned in my 2/21/05 post, the “Friends of the Upper East Side Hitoric Districts” would probably be a good group to start out with to see how one could help.
By the way, on Monday there is going to be a City Council hearing about the Landmark Preservation Commission — which, as I’ve posted before, a lot of preservationists are unhappy with. I can’t make it to the hearing, but I found out from the leader of Landmarks West! whom to submit mailed-in testimony to. Although my main concern is 2 Columbus Circle, I think I will mention the failure of the LPC to schedule a hearing on the Beekman in my mailed-in testimony also.
Here’s a copy of the e-mail I received from Landmarks West!:
Re: The City Council Oversight Hearing on the Landmarks Preservation Commission
Dear Benjamin:
Thanks for taking action. You can just send your testimony to Council Member Bill Perkins, who is the chair of the Government Operations Committee, which is holding this particular hearing.
His mailing address is: 163 West 125 St. 7th Floor, NYC 10027. And/or you can email it to .ny.us
Iâ€\d love to have a copy as well.
Best,
Kate
——-Original Message——–
Okay, here it is…Reprinted from the New York Times, Thursday, May 12, Arts Section.
“AN ARCHITECT’S BRICKBATS,"
Robin Pogrebin
The architect Robert A. M. Stern [Dean of the Yale School of Architecture] challenged the chairman of the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission on Tuesday night to explain why he did not hold a hearing on 2 Columbus Circle, designed by Edward Durell Stone as Huntington Hartford’s Gallery of Modern Art but never designated a landmark. The building is to be reconstructed as the Museum of Arts and Design. “Not to preserve the building is shocking, but not to hear it is criminal,” Mr. Stern said during a panel discussion at the 92nd Street Y, addressing Robert B. Tierney, the chairman. Mr. Tierney did not directly respond except to say that the commission had decided in 1996 not to hold a hearing on the building and that he had chosen not to revisit the decision. The panel, which discussed the effects of 40 years of landmarks regulation on architecture in New York, also included the architects Hugh Hardy and James Stewart Polshek.
AND DONâ€\T FORGET…
City Council Oversight Hearing on the Landmarks Preservation Commission
When: Monday, May 16, 10:00 A.M.
Where: City Hall, Committee Room, adjacent to large Council Chamber on second floor
Even if you testified at previous LPC oversight hearings in October and November 2004, please plan to attend and testify in support of meaningful improvements to the Landmarks process!
REMEMBER
· There is a 2- to 3-minute time limit for testimony.
· Please bring at least 10 copies of your written testimony to distribute to the Committee members.
Chris, I very much hope you get a chance to see a movie at the “Loew’s Jersey” and take a tour of the “Stanley.” While both of these theaters are listed as being in New Jersey, they are both very, very close to mid-town Manhattan (which is just across the Hudson River from New Jersey). They are probably more convenient to mid-town Manhattan than many parts of the Bronx, Queens or Brooklyn (and certainly more convenient than Staten Island). (Both of these theaters have listings, with lots of info on them, on the Cinema Treasures website.)
As far as I know, the Loew’s Jersey is the only remaining TRUE movie PALACE in the NYC area that still shows movies (albeit, mostly on weekends as a non-profit showcase, I believe). The Stanley, which is a block or two away from it, is also a TRUE movie PALACE that is used as a church — but I believe the church gives tours of it. (Check out the Cinema Treasures listings for both theaters for more details.)
(To clarify the terminology a bit: it seems to me that the current Ziegfeld is a movie THEATER, rather than a movie PALACE. In the same sense, one would say that the Alden and the Merrick (two, modestly decorated, 1,000+ [?] seat, local movie theaters in Jamaica, Queens) were movie THEATERS. The nearby Valencia (a lavishly decorated, 3,000+ [?] seat, atmospheric), however, was a movie PALACE. The Stanley, by the way is also an atmospheric, and as a kid it reminded me of the Valencia.)
The thing I would emphasize is that despite the “Jersey City” location, both of these theaters are extremely convenient to Manhattan. They are just steps away from the Jersey City station of the PATH train. (PATH is a “subway” — which in some ways is nicer than the NYC subway — that connects Manhattan with towns in nearby New Jersey, just across the Hudson River.) In Manhattan, there are PATH stations at Herald Sq., 23rd St., 14th St., 9th St., Christopher St. and at Ground Zero. The trains taking the most direct route leave from the newly rebuilt World Trade Center terminal — the other stations listed are on a train line that folows a more indirect route to Jersey City.
I have never been to the Loew’s Jersey myself. But I did go to the Stanley as a kid (to see Jerry Lewis' “Visit to a Small Planet”), and this theater is a TRUE movie palace that will show people who missed the movie palace era what people are talking about.
I also second Vito suggestion about Radio City Music Hall and — especially — the Beekman. Radio City Music Hall will always be there (hopefully!), but the Beekman is slated to be torn down very shortly. In a way, the Beekman is an early 1950s art house version of the movie “palace” (albeit, the “Petit Trianon”?) — it’s the very embodiment of a certain movie-going way of life. Check out the page on Cinema Treasures (especially the links that someone has posted to photographs). I think you will be kicking yourself if you miss out on visiting it before it is demolished.
P.S. — My post was not meant as a criticism of the virginia.edu website, as it does properly credit the photos and, by putting them on the web, it does make the photos of an out-of-print(?) book available for wider discussion on the internet.
Also, the pages I mentioned were from the edition that I have. The virginia.edu website may be referring to pages of a different edition of the book.
From a brief glance, it seems to me that about 80% of the photos (and possibly the info, too) on the virginia.edu websites are but a brief sampling from the wonderful Ben Hall book, the “Best Remaining Seats.”
For example, (and I’m not sure of this, since I don’t have my copy handy), I believe that the “floor plan” (really a “section”) that is shown on the website is a scan of page 82 from the Ben Hall book, and that the rest of the drawing, the missing “floor plan” of the auditorium itself (properly speaking, more of an “elevation”), can be found on page 83. PLUS on page 128, the Hall book has a genuine floorplan of the (first floor) of the Roxy theater. (These were the diagrams discussed in my January 7, 2005 post, above.)
For those of you who live in or around New York City: a few weeks ago I was at the Strand Bookstore (Broadway and 12th St.) and saw that they had about two or three used copies of “Best Remaining Seats” for sale. I didn’t check out the price, but the Strand is famous for its great prices. (They also had a seemingly brand new copy of the “Cinema Treasures” book for ½ price.)
I think anyone interested in movie palaces would really be floored by the Ben Hall book — there is so much unbelievable stuff in it (like reproductions of newspaper ads and pages from opening night commemorative booklets, etc.)
Jerry, thanks for the confirmation and added details about MSG! (I know you’re looking for photos of 42nd St.; I’d love to run across a photo of the inside of the MSG “arcade.” So far, I’ve only been able to find photos of the exterior that just give a hint of the aracade.)
Regarding, the photo of the New Amsterdam: if I’m looking at the correct photo on the New Amsterdam page (posted on Sun., 4/17/05), the Nedick’s shown is on the southwest corner of 42nd and Seventh Ave., a few doors down from the New Amsterdam.
But there used to be a snack stand that was just “inside” the entrance to a theater on the north side of 42nd St. (This snack stand was on the right side of the entrance.) Whether this was the Selwyn Theater, or another theater, I’m not sure. Also, whether it was a true “Nedick’s” — or a Nedick’s-“type” place — I’m also not sure.
I haven’t been able to access your video clip to compare it to what I remember. But I’m guessing that perhaps you just never gave the snack stand a second thought because to you it seemed like just another snack stand on 42nd St. “next to” — rather than “inside” — a movie theater entrance? This would certainly be a reasonable perception, since it really WAS just another snack stand on 42nd St. next to a movie theater entrance. The “inside” part, while somewhat unusual was also somewhat subtle — and perhaps more noticeable to people unfamiliar with 42nd St.
When one talks about movie going habits, etc. during the roadshow “era,” I think the whole thing makes a lot more sense when one reflects upon just how different the world was in those days. Obviously, not only didn’t the DVD/VCR, cable/satellite TV, etc. exist, but even much of today’s suburbs — let alone their mall multiplexes — didn’t exist then either. So, in those days, centrally located (reachable by subway and commuter train) downtown movie palaces and hard ticket, reserved seat, theaters for “event” movies made a lot more sense given the technology and demographics of the time.
I remember, for instance, in the late 1950s when I would stay for the summer with relatives out in Kings Park, Long Island, you would go by seemingly mile after mile of farm land (potatoes?, lettuce?) before you would ever get to Kings Park. There were basically only six TV stations (which would go off the air at night after the “Late Show” or the “Tonight Show”). All the “good” movies advertised on TV (“Rodan,” Disney’s “Sleeping Beauty,” “Old Yeller,” etc.) seemed to be playing only in downtown New York City theaters — and wouldn’t get to play Long Island for many, many weeks (or so it seemed to me as a child). And those that did play Long Island, seemed to first play at only one theater in Commack (?).
Perhaps an even better illustration is the circus. These days Ringling Bros. plays Madison Sq. Garden and (I believe) the Nassau Coliseum and Continental Arena. In the late 1950s, it played only Madison Sq. Garden (the other two venues not being built until the mid-1970s, early 1980s?). (I believe Long Island did, however, get the smaller Clyde Beatty Circus at some precursor to the Nassau Coliseum [the Commack Arena?]. And I suppose some places in New Jersey got the Clyde Beatty Circus also.)
So given the options (or lack thereof), traveling downtown to wait on a long line to see a movie / stage show or to see a special “event” movie (with reserved seats) made a lot of sense!
From the descriptions in the two previous posts (hardbop and br91975), it seems to me that people might get the mistaken idea that the eatery (at one time, I believe, a “Nedick’s”) was actually intended primarily for the patrons of the Selwyn, and that pedestrians walking by on 42nd St. could somehow go into the theater to patronize it. (And that theater patrons could somehow go to this snack stand without leaving the theater.)
However, if I am remembering the theater entrance correctly, I would describe the relationship between the theater and the snack stand somewhat differently. Basically, if I recall it correctly, the theater had a very wide entrance that was somewhat “arcade-like,” and the “Nedick’s” storefront opened up onto this “arcade” instead of directly out onto the street. (My fuzzy recollection is that the doorway to the small office building that was located above the Selwyn’s “tunnel lobby” was on the other side of this wide entrance.)
So although a Selwyn patron wouldn’t have to go out into the rain, for instance, to patronize this Nedick’s, he or she still would have to walk down the long ticket lobby and actually exit the theater — for good — past the ticket taker to get to this 42nd St. snack stand. And of course, to a 42nd St. pedestrian, the “Nedick’s” would appear to be just another 42nd St. snack stand, although one that happened to open off a wide movie theater entrance instead of directly onto the street.
These very wide “arcade” type entrances (which I’ve always liked) are, unfortunately, rare in New York City. The New Amsterdam (as a movie theater grind house) had a somewhat similarly wide entrance (but no snack stand that I recall). And there are three or four “older” NYC office buildings that come to mind, that also have something that is somewhat similar. But perhaps the best example along these lines was the old Madison Sq. Garden on Eighth Ave. It’s arcade entrance (before you got to the ticket takers) seemed to be a recessed “mini-plaza” with a number of stores / snack stands, etc. opening off of it (at least that’s the way it seemed to me as a child).
But getting back to the case of the Selwyn, I think it’s more accurate to describe the “snack bar/restaurant” as just another 42nd St. snack stand / hot dog stand / luncheonette(?) — but one that happened, however, to open up onto a very wide theater entrance instead of directly onto the street.
Who was the first theater manager to actually bring over the idea of the red carpet to movie premieres? While it’s an interesting question, I wonder if the idea was such a “no brainer” when it was first done (because of the common use of red carpets elsewhere) that nobody paid enough attention to note the occassion? (Similarly, I wonder what bank / bank manager was the first to start the “one line” concept?)
However, my guess is that the first theater manager to use a red carpet was probably a “showman” like Samuel “Roxy” Rothapfel. Or, at least, he would probably be the first to get credit (in newspapers, etc.) for doing something like that.
In terms of a research tools, I’m wondering if Ben Hall mentions the introduction of red carpets anywhere in his classic book on movie palaces, “The Best Remaining Seats”?
Also, as a reporter, you may already know about this, but I just found out about it a few weeks ago: if you go to a university research library, they have access to something called “Proquest” which allows you to both search a newspaper database using keywords (like red carpet) and view the newspaper article itself almost immediately on a PC screen. The database has access to and searches through the New York Times from its inception until about 2001. I believe the Los Angeles Times is also covered under a similar date range.
I’m not sure about this, but I always assumed that the Ziegfeld Theater was part of the same zoning lot as the skyscraper next door (and that the skyscraper got a zoning bonus for providing the through-block “park” separating the two).
If that’s is the case, then I think there would some kind of constraint as to what could be built on the Ziegfeld site — since the skyscraper next door had already not only utilized all the allowable commercial space for the zoning lot, but was bonused for the through block “park” to boot.
If this is true, and I’m not mistaken, this is actually a pretty clever use of space under the existing zoning regulations (whether these regulations are good urbanism or not, is a different question). On the Avenue, you have a tall skyscraper utilizing the allowable commercial space, with front and side “plazas” and a through block pedestrian “park” boosting the amount of space the skyscraper can have. Plus you have a low-rise theater, with a parking garage entrance (below the theater on the 55th St. side) on the side streets, utilizing the areas that cannot be built up too much. (And, I’m guessing, that the parking garage space extends beneath the through block “park.”)
I remember seeing films at the Public Theater on two “occasions.”
Once was in the very early 1970s, when I went with some friends to see a film in their brand new cinema. If I recall correctly, we went to experience the theater itself, as it was advertised as having a very unusual set-up. (I don’t even remember what film we went to see.) If I recall correctly, each seat in the auditorium was encased by partitions and had some sort of hood — to block out any extraneous distractions.
The second “occasion” was to see a Judy Holiday film festival (all eight(?) of her films!), which is one of my favorite film going experiences. (I think I went to three double bills and skipped the fourth.) I don’t think the theater had the same set-up then, however. (The Judy Holiday film festival was, I think in the late 1980s.)
I’ve always been a big Judy Holiday fan, ever since I saw either “Solid Gold Cadillac” or “It Should Happen to You” on TV in the 1960s(?) — perhaps on “Million Dollar Movie” on Channel 9 in NYC. So I was curious about a number of her other films which one never seemed to see around at revival houses etc. At the Public Theater I got to see all of her movies (although I think I skipped “Bells Are Ringing” and one other film for some reason) — both the good and the bad.
“The Marrying Kind” was one of the good ones — I was so glad that I had an opportunity to see this film. (Although, these days, one can probably easily see it on DVD.) “Full of Life” and, I believe, “Pffft” were among the bad ones. They were not really awful, but still they were noticeably bad. “Pfttt” (which was “stolen” by a young Kim Novack) even had, for instance, a scene where a cinema ignoramus like me could tell how the lights in the sound studio were being operated. And “Full of Life” seemed to me to be poorly written, with a weird (and unsuccessful) mix of comedy and family drama.
But even the bad ones were fun for me, in part because I realized that my movie going experience had really included very few, if any, “noticeably” bad movies â€" as I usually skipped movies that were supposed to be bad, in the first place.
I think the defining features that would make a theater the “first” TRUE “twin,” “triplex,” “quad,” or “multiplex” is that the auditoria would have had a common box office and common lobby (refreshment stands, restrooms, etc.) — all while maintaining separate projection booths. These are the darwinian features that are considered to have enabled the new species of movie theater (the multiplex) to replace the old dinosaurs (single screen theaters).
While it would be interesting to find out what was the first at each level (twin, triplex, quad, etc.), it would also be interesting to find out which theater really opened the eyes of the movie industry to the money making possibilities of separate small auditoria sharing common box offices and lobby spaces.
Reading Cinema Treasures, one can get a sense of when the earlier movie theater building booms occurred (although this would be even easier to see if each profile had a date field and if date opened was also a sort category). It would also be interesting to get a detailed sense of when the multiplex movement started to gain momentum and when older, neighborhood single-screen theaters started to shift to X-rated films — at least they did in NYC — or were converted to retail or demolished.
(A suggested correction to the description at the top of this page: the name of the architect who re-designed the Elgin into the Joyce was Hugh Hardy — not Hugh Howard.)
I believe I started going to the Elgin in 1968. For me, this was THE quintessential New York revival movie house — even more so than the Thalia, the New Yorker or the Regency. Perhaps this was, in part, because I was living nearby in Greenwich Village and went there a lot but also, perhaps, because of its hip atmosphere and decor — which for me was epitomized by its basement lounge which had a 60’s “pop art” flavored decor that included a barber’s chair and, I think, track lighting and can spots (which were new to me).
I believe the Elgin — along with the Thalia or New Yorker(?) — used to run a summer film festival of film classics co-sponsored with a famous art film distributor (whose name I can’t recall at the moment). I think both theaters (along with the other revival film houses, also?) used to have these very, very long handbills/flyers where they would list the names of all the films that would be shown for the next few weeks. I, along with others presumably, would then mark off the appropriate dates on a calendar.
You could pull the handbill/flyer off of a string at the theater itself or, I guess, you could also have them mail one to you if you put yourself on their mailing list.
I don’t remember all the films I saw at the Elgin, but I do remember seeing “Citizen Kane” and “The Lady Vanishes” on one double-bill. It was such a memorable double-bill because both movies were so entertaining and because I had somehow gotten the mistaken impression that “Citizen Kane” was one of those films that one “should” see to be an educated adult — but were really excruciatingly boring.
In the late 1960s, the surrounding area, despite some very beautiful streets, was generally seen as a poor relation to Greenwich Village. So even in its pre-Joyce days, people saw the Elgin as providing a shot of vitality to the main shopping street of Chelsea. I think there was a somewhat famous Chinese-Spanish restaurant, “Asia de Cuba,” located across the street in an old diner — maybe it had gotten good reviews in “the Underground Gourmet” feature of “New York Magazine”? And for a while, I think there was a second-hand bookstore located next to the theater’s entrance. (I believe the bookstore space was incorporated into the Joyce’s lobby areas.) So this part of Chelsea seemed to me to be one of those areas that were the epitome of 60’s New York bohemia and chic.
While I had assumed it was a robbery, I don’t think it had occurred to me before how unusually vulnerable the Quad box office is (was?) to armed robbery — kind of the opposite of “defensible space.” Unlike the “classic” movie theater box office which is 1) “protected” by glass and 2) right out on the street where a robbery would be out in the open, the Quad box office is (was?) just a counter with no glass, and it was far enough off the street to make a robbery less visible, while close enough to the street to provide a quick getaway.
I wonder if anyone knows what theater lays claim — for better or worse! — to being the first true duplex or multiplex? I’m pretty sure it is NOT Cinema I, II (& III), since I believe it had two different box offices for each of its original two theaters. I wonder if it might be the Baronet/Coronet, the Quad or some other theater outside of NYC?
I don’t think that the Ed Sullivan Theater (located on the west side of Broadway, between 53rd and 54th Sts.) was ever a movie theater, but I will have to look it up later. There are brief histories of it (with photos) in a number of theater books, including, I believe, William Morrison’s “Broadway Theatres: History and Architecture,” and Mary Henderson’s “The City and the Theater.”
The Adelphi Theater, which was where I think the one half-hour “Hooneymooners” series was done for its one season, is a different theater from the Ed Sullivan Theater and was located on the south side of 54th St., just east of Seventh Ave. Before and after housing the “Honeymooners” it was a “legit” Broadway theater that housed shows like “On the Town” and “No Strings.” In its last years, the Adlephi was called the 54th St. Theater and the George Abbott Theater.
However, the Jackie Gleason show itself, which often included a “Honeymooners” sketch, was done, I believe, at the Ed Sullivan Theater in its New York days. At that time, the theater was called, according to the IBDB, CBS Studio No. 50.
For quick histories, both of these theaters are can be found on the Internet Broadway Database. (I’d post a link, but I’ve seen that sometimes this causes problems on the Cinema Treasures webpage.)
In the early 1960s (?), I saw the original production of the “Sound of Music” at the Lunt-Fontanne. I also saw “Little Me” there (possibly the last Saturday matinee?). In later years, I saw both “Beatlemania” and revivals of “Hello Dolly” and “My Fair Lady” there.
What I found striking about the theater, especially in the early 1960s, was the quality of the remodeling job that they did when they converted it back to a stage theater from a movie theater. To my young eyes they did a really spectacular job. (But I’ve read some comments from the time, where some people felt they actually overdid it.) I’ve seen numerous pictures of the Globe / Lunt-Fontanne recently, but I’m not sure where. But I think there are pictures of it in the Dover paperback by William Morrison, “Broadway Theaters: History and Architecture,” and in Robert A.M. Stern’s “New York 1960.”
On the outside, the remodeling incorporated two rather unusual — and pleasant — features: 1) a terrazzo (sp?) sidewalk (Terrazzo is a synthetic flooring that kind of looks like polished marble. Many office buildings have terrazzo flooring.); 2) a handsome, ersatz Beaux Art marquee /canopy that had built-in space heaters on its underside. (I’m pretty sure this marquee / canopy is still there.)
Across the street, the Helen Hayes Theater also had been remodeled about the same time. I kind of wonder if it was owned at that time by the same owners, because it shared some of these features. It too had the handsome, ersatz Beaux Art marquee with the built-in space heaters on the underside. (Don’t recall if it had the terrazzo sidewalk.)
Between the two theaters, this street really had a great “look.” Both of the theaters had unusually grand — but, urbane — architecture for a New York City “legit” theater, and it was like having two grand palazzi (sp?) facing each other on opposite sides of a small New York City side-street. Plus, next door to the Helen Hayes, to the east, was the almost equally handsome facade of the Gaiety (although you had to peek up behind the billboard that covered it), and next door, to the west, were one or two brownstones that had been extended out to the sidewalk and contained the original (?) “Dinty Moore’s.” The exterior of Dinty Moore’s had lots of brass (used, for instance, in brass railings), and even in the 1960s they had someone going out there, contantly polishing the brass.
Before showtime, and during intermissions, the street took on a wonderful festive air. People spilled out onto the sidewalks (especially to smoke) and it looked like a big party! (I remember that at one time, Huntington Hartford’s short-lived magazine, “Show,” had a photo essay on the theater district, and one of my favorite photos in it was of people smoking outside the Helen Hayes during intermission.)
If I remember correctly, the time that I waited outside the Lunt-Fontanne during the run of Richard Burton’s “Hamlet,” Liz and Dick (at that time the world’s most scandalous couple by far) really “went with it”! A “handsom cab” pulled up to the theater, they climbed in and were romantically wisked off by a horse and carriage! (No fringe on the top, though!)
I believe Christopher Gray, who writes the “Streetscapes” column for the Sunday “New York Times,” once wrote an article about the Lunt-Fontanne. It had been rumored that the orginal Globe had what today we would call a “moon roof,” which could be opened in good weather. During the various remodelings, however, the “moon roof” opening was, I believe, plastered over. But, if I remember it correctly, Gray was able to get a close-up look of the remaining mechanism from on top of the roof, and he wrote about it in the “Times.”
The question becomes, “what, EXACTLY, is it that one would be trying to preserve through landmark designation?” Preservationists are usually very conscious that there has to be a legitimate reason for the government to designate private property as a landmark. Usually they favor landmark designation because of a building’s architectural or historical significance (or some combination).
Preservationists, so it seems to me, usually go to great pains to point out that they do NOT designate landmarks to preserve uses, to freeze (in a general way) a certain time or place, or to indulge in sentimental feelings (especially those of a small group of aficionados).
As I believe Warren, for example, was trying to point out, there appears to be a much better (more architecturally distinguished, more intact) example of the Times Square movie “palace” than the Mayfair. (And it also has some imporatance as a “legitimate” theater as well.) And this is not even to mention, the even grander outer borough movie palaces like the Paradise, the Valencia, the Brooklyn Paramount, the Kings and the Triboro and the Keith (the last two of which were essentially lost despite very strong credentials and efforts to save them).
And even if the Columbia hadn’t been transformed into the Mayfair, there are better examples of early 20th Century “legitimate” and “burlesque” theaters (some of which are already landmarked).
So, given the info that I’ve seen so far, I see only an extremely weak arguement — near non-existent, really — for landmarking, at least in terms of the generally accepted criteria that’s been used by preservationists over the years. And I think the argument would be weak, so it seems to me, even in the earlier, apparently less political, days of the Landmark Preservation Commission.
But who knows? I’ve been surprised by some of the buildings that have actually been designated and I’ve been surprised by some of buildings that haven’t even gotten a public hearing regarding designation.
If I correctly understand the property data provided on the OASIS NYC website, the Ziegfeld is on the same zoning lot (block 1007, lot 29) as the the adjacent through-block “park” and adjacent office building (whose official address seems to be 120 W. 55th St.) The lot is listed as being 200 ft. wide (the width of most mid-town Manhattan blocks), and 500 ft. deep. (I believe the blocks between Sixth and Seventh are about 800 ft. deep, so this is a pretty deep lot.)
The maximum FAR (floor area ratio) allowed on the site is 12, but the actual FAR seems to be 19.9, which means that the builders qualified for one or more bonuses. They probably got a bonus for the front and side plazas, plus a bonus for the through-block park. Whether a bonus was given for a movie theater on this site, I don’t know.
(I also mention some of the zoning issues for this site in my April 14th post in this thread, above — but at that time I hadn’t looked up the site on OASIS NYC yet.)
While I doubt they would be able to build more office space on the Ziegfeld site — I think all the office space allowed is already in the tower on the other side of the through-block “park,” I would imagine they could change the use of the Ziegfeld Theater (unless they got a bonus for building it). So maybe it could become a “Toys R Us” (as someone joked in an earlier post) or a good-sized disco, etc.
If there were plans to close the Ziegfeld (due to a lack of profitability), I’d be very surprised if the outcry was significantly greater than the (apparently very little outcry) for the Beekman and Cinema I, II & III. But, then again, I’ve been surprised to read that people consider the Ziegfeld a “treasure” and a “movie palace,” so who knows, maybe there is a large and vocal group of fans who could provide sufficient pressure. But, given the the theater’s lack of distinguished architecture and the lack of any genuine historical importance (understandable, since it was only built in the late 1960s), it’s hard to imagine what kind of appeal could be made and what kind of pressure exerted.
My guess is that the Ziegfeld will survive, however, because it does seem to be profitable for certain kinds of films and because it might be difficult to find an economically compelling alternative use for for this site, given the zoning.
I think we might be talking about different fire escapes.
(To summarize and clarify: The “liner” office building around the Mayfair that is being discussed has an “L” shaped footprint, with the long part of the “L” running along 47th St. and the short part of the “L” running up Seventh Ave.)
If I understand you correctly, the fire escapes that you see are ones that start on the top floor (but on the “backside,” not the “streetside”) of the office buiding. I would assume that these fire escapes were always there for the office workers in the office building and were separate and apart from those needed to evacuate theater patrons less high up in the building.
The fire escapes that I was thinking about were on the street side of the building and jutted out from the long side of the “L,” from only about half-way up the building. I assume these fire escapes were devoted solely to evacuation of the masses of patrons occupying the Columbia’s two balconies.
After posting my question, it occured to me that maybe the fire escapes were hidden behind the giant billboard? In other words, maybe the billboard was hung, in part, upon the fire escapes? But I’m not sure if the City would have allowed them to jut such a billboard that far out over the sidewalk.
Regarding the definition of “landmark”:
Actually the definition of “landmark” appears to be contracting rather than expanding. This is part of the controversy about the Landmarks Preservation Commission that I mention in a recent post on the Beekman thread on the Cinema Treasures website.
Even before the apparent recent shrinkage in the definition of what constitutes a landmark, however, it seems to me that NYC landmarks, more often than not, are designated primarily for their architectural, rather than their historical, value. (Additionally, some kinds of architecture seem to be guarded more protectively than others.) I think this is because most people concerned with landmarks tend to be interested in design more than history. (And those in power seem to favor certain styles of architecture over others.) But there are, of course, exceptions, especially when a building has an overwhelming historic importance. (For example, my guess is that the NYU building that was the site of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire is one of these — architecturally undistinguished, but historically very important.)
Not to be political, but it seems to me that since the Giuliani (and perhaps Dinkens) administration, the LPC has been a lot “stingier” about designating landmarks. (The LPC is essentially controlled by the reigning Mayor.) I think what happened is by this time, 20-25 years after the signing of the landmarks law, so many buildings and areas had been designated landmarks that people were concerned about going “over board” with landmarking — impeding future development. So developers (and others) were often able to use this concern to prevail upon the Mayor/LPC not to support landmark designation — or even hold a public hearing — on certain possible landmarks.
What really disturbs me about all of this is that rather than address this issue in a straightforward way, the last two (or three?) Mayors have apparently decided to use secret, behind the scenes maneuvering to decide which buildings get, or do not get, a public hearing for possible designation. So in the end, it seems to me, landmarking in NYC has become more and more a matter of who knows whom, being a political “insider,” and being on the “right” side of the various culture “wars,” etc.
While certainly no expert on real estate, zoning and landmarks preservation, I may be a little more familiar with them then most posters on this site, and it seems to me (from my still admittedly sketchy knowledge in these areas) that some of the posts in this thread have stated a number of misconceptions. So here are some thoughts that I believe might help.
Judging from the listing for the property (701 Seventh Ave.) on the OASIS NYC website, the lot that the theater / office building is on is a rectangular one (on this site they show a map), with a lot frontage of 160 ft. and a lot depth of 100.42 ft. The OASIS site says the structure on the property was built in 1909. (But I think I’ve noticed inaccuracies in this site in the past.) (I’m not sure how to properly post a link to this site [without messing up the Cinema Treasures website in the process], but the site can be easily found using a search engine. Once on the site you choose what kind of info you want, I chose “Property Data,” and type in the address, or block and lot if you prefer, and the borough.)
From what I can tell from this info and from general knowledge about theaters in New York City, the relationship of the Mayfair (which is what I’ll call the Embassy 2, 3, 4) to the office building that is apparently wrapped around it on two sides is not at all complicated or unusual. Even in the days when these old Times Sq. theaters were built (mostly in the first quarter of the 20th Century), Manhattan land was very expensive and valuable and builders understandably wanted to make the most of their property. So a good many theaters were built with small office buildings over a portion of the “theater.” Since building regulations then didn’t allow builders to actually build over the auditorium itself, the builders usually built over other areas of the theater â€" particularly over the entrance / lobby. (Good examples of this are the New Amsterdam, the Hudson and the original Palace [the building before they built the current hotel]. This is why, by the way, so many New York City theaters “photograph” so poorly â€" sometimes bizarrely so. What you are really seeing is the office building that has been built over the tunnel entrance / lobby.
By the way, as building technologies changed, I believe they changed the rules regarding building above an auditorium, so that some of the new buildings appear to be cantilevered over adjacent auditoriums. (I believe this is what they did, for instance, for the hotel above the Palace, across the street from the Mayfair.)
Given the fascinating post by pscribner on Feb. 25th, it would seem that the Columbia Amusement Company, built the Columbia as their flagship burlesque theater and then built the office building along the properties two street frontages for use as their headquarters, with some of the office space being rented out to others also.
One of the photos I’ve seen of the building in it’s early days (it may be the one that Warren graciously offered to send people) shows that at one time the 47th St. side of the office building was faced with three (?) long fire escapes. This set up of (ugly) exterior fire escapes seems quite common in theaters of the time. I believe a lot of the 42nd St. theaters, for instance, had a “maze” of fire escapes on their 41st St. sides (and may still have them today). Plus, even the very prestigious Ziegfeld Theater on Sixth Ave. had (somewhat stylized) fire escapes on its 54th St. side. So one of the questions I wonder about is what did they do with the fire escapes when they remodeled the Columbia as the Mayfair? My guess is that the office building was less valuable by then, and that they put the fire stairs through unoccupied office space. Another guess is that when they remodeled the theater they didn’t add 950 seats (changing the seating capacity, which I believe Warren mentions in one of his posts, from 1,350 to 2,300) but perhaps reduced the number of seats or, at least reconfigured their arrangement, to reduced the number of fire escapes needed.
Another question I have, which others have raised, is what did they do with all the space behind the billboards. (I wonder the same about the office spaces above the tunnel entrance lobbies for the Astor and the Victoria.) This question may have been partially answer by the real estate link posted by CConnelly, it seems as though this space was rented out for recording studios — which are just right for windowless spaces.
In the late 1960s / early 1970s, the City created a special theater zoning district which allowed builders to build an extra amount of office space in their buildings if they also built a theater (or similar facility) on their zoning lot. The first theater to be built under this program was the Minskoff in the W.T. Grant, now One Astor Plaza (?) Building (which replaced the Astor Hotel). The Gershwin in the Uris (which replaced the Capitol) was also built under this zoning, and I believe the Ziegfeld (movie) theater and its adjacent office building (which replaced the original Ziegfeld among other buildings) may have also been built under this zoning.
If I recall correctly, the reason the City did this (under Mayor John Lindsay) was that they were afraid that new office buildings would more and more replace the old Broadway theaters and that no new theaters would ever be built to replace the old ones â€" leaving the Times Sq. area as just another Manhattan office district. (The story of the creation of the Special Times Square Zoning District is covered in Jonathan Barnett’s book, “Urban Design as Public Policy.” Barnett was part of the team that came up with the idea.)
This is the underlying economics that they probably had in mind: theaters, especially legitimate theaters, are very “inefficient” users of space. They take up a lot of land (you can have just so many mezzanines and balconies) and are only using the land eight times a week at most. And they can be empty for many, many months between hit shows â€" all the while the theater owner has to pay taxes, etc. (And while now quite as bad, movie theaters have similar economics â€" the one big difference these days being that you can indeed have a “skyscraper” multiplex â€" like the Loew’s on lower Third Ave., for instance.) So basically there seems to be an incentive for builders to buy old Manhattan theaters for future development as a modern office building or apartment house, and a disincentive to build modern legitimate theaters (and modern single screen movie theaters).
Looking at my Hagstom’s map, which gives a rough idea of the size of the lots of various theaters, it seems to me that the Mayfair property — by itself — is actually a bit on the small side, especially when you consider that modern day zoning would not allow a builder to build straight up from the street the way they did on this site in 1909. My guess is that a modern day developer would probably want to assemble all the properties along Seventh Ave. on that block before deciding to build something. (The Mayfair footprint seems to be the same size as that of the old Earl Carroll Theater on the southeast corner of 50th and Sixth, and this building was allowed to stand until all the properties along Seventh Ave. on that block were assembled and the market was right for a new office building.)
I tried to find on the Landmark’s Preservation Commission website a list of all the theaters that have been designated landmarks, but I wasn’t able to find one. But judging from those that I do know to be landmarks, and judging from the current controversies regarding the LPC, it seems to me that the chances of the Mayfair ever being designated a landmark are very, very slim. There doesn’t seem to be anything really special about the Mayfair from an architectural or historical perspective. And remember, even the Beekman and Cinema 1, 2 and 3 which both seem, at least to me, to have more credentials can’t seem to get, apparently, even a hearing about possible designation.
What I find interesting about the Columbia / Mayfair / DeMille is how low-profile this theater seems to have been. I wonder why this is the case?. (If this is, in fact, the case.) Here are some guesses:
Partly I think it is because of the peculiarities of the theater’s history. Books on the theaters of Broadway, like Henderson’s, Van Hoostraten’s and Morrison’s, don’t seem to have any info on it because it was never, apparently, a “legitimate” theater — but a burlesque / movie house instead. A book like “The Best Remaining Seats” doesn’t seem to include the Mayfair because it was a “Johnny-come-lately” retro-fit movie theater and neither an historic pioneer (like the Regent or Rialto) nor a “true” movie palace. Books that are primarily architecturally oriented, like the AIA Guide, Stern’s “1960” (I haven’t looked it up in his earlier books, though), etc. don’t seem to mention it because, despite the apparent attractiveness of its interior, it was not particularly special or unique when it was reconstructed as the Mayfair. And popular guidebooks, like the WPA Guide to NYC, don’t seem to mention much about it either, because, again it was “just another” big movie theater, among many, when it was constructed.
So, in a way, this theater (along with those two old vaudeville [?] theaters on Eighth Ave.) seems to have “fallen between the cracks.”
Speaking personally, I don’t ever recall having been interested in visiting this theater in any way — although in the 1960s and late 1950s I was interested in seeing movies in many of the other theaters in this area. And again I wonder why?
I wonder if it is because of the kind of movies that the theater showed. I was too young to see, “Psycho.” And it seems to me that all the other “big” movies that I was interested in seeing in the 1960s all seemed to play other theaters in the Times Sq. area instead.
And although the DeMille was hidden by an office building (which was, in turn, covered by a billboard), I don’t think this was the reason — because I was always intrested in seeing what the interiors of the Astor and Victoria were like, and they too were behind office buildings that were covered by a gigantic billboard.
So, I’m wondering if the design of the lobby and marquee may have had something to do with it? One reason I always wanted to go into the Astor (and, perhaps, to a lesser extent the Victoria), for instance, was because their designs “drew you in.” The Astor in particular was redesigned in such a way (hard to describe) that the inside of the theater seemed to extend out to the sidewalk. The same was true, I believe, to some extent with the Strand (Warner?). And, if I remember correctly, you could actually see the grand stairway (by that time a grand escalator) of the Capitol from the street.
The marquees and street entrances of the Rivoli and Loew’s State both seemed to me to be very glamorous in a modern sort of way. (And while not a movie theater at the time, in the 1960s the underside of the Winter Garden theater was a spectacular profusion of light bulbs, although I don’t think it was in good repair and still in use by that time. But it still seemed very impressive.)
So, in a way, my personal experience would seem to bear out the belief of movie theater builders and operators that spectacular “packaging” will help make people interested in your product. Along these lines, one of the websites mentioned in the Roxy theater thread mentions, I believe, that early theater owners often built very wide, arcade-like entrances for just this very reason — to catch the eye and draw people in. (I believe the link was quoting one of the classic movie palace books — but not the Ben Hall one.)
I’m not sure about this, but I think Gray once did an article on the the spectacular Art Deco, 3,000+ (?) seat, Earl Carroll Theater that once existed on the southeast corner of Seventh Ave. and 50th St. Although the theater had been closed for many years — with a Woolworth’s occupying the ground level space — the structure existed until relatively recently, when it was torn down for the construction of the office tower that ultimately became the Lehman Bros. building.
It seems to me that Gray usually does his articles when something of note is happening to a building (e.g., it’s being sold, refurbished, torn down, etc.). So I think this piece was done when the Earl Carroll was finally scheduled to be torn down. Again, if I remember correctly, Gray got permission from the owners to visit the untouched space that was above the Woolworth’s.
But it is also possible that I’ve misremembered this and that the article that I think I read in the “Times” was actually written by Nicholas Van Hoostraten, the author of “Lost Broadway Theaters,” instead. Hoostraten writes in his book about getting permission from Rockefeller Center, Inc. (the skyscraper’s builders) to visit the areas above the Woolworth before the building was torn down.
By the way, there are great pictures of Earl Carroll Theater (and many others, including some that had also been used as movie theaters) in a Dover paperback, “Broadway Theaters: History and Architecture,” by William Morrison. A few weeks ago at the Strand bookstore, there were stacks of brand new copies of this book being sold for less than the already relatively inexpensive cover price.
If I remember correctly, there are also some great photos of the Hippodrome in the Morrison book, including one of the interior of the auditorium that I haven’t seen in my, admittedly quick, viewing of the links in this thread.
Given the very tight space contraints for his column, I thought Gray actually covered the diverse history of the Hippoadrome site very well, particularly here:
“Other theater operators continued Thompson’s spectaculars, but Milton Epstein’s exhaustive "The New York Hippodrome: A Complete Chronology of Performances, From 1905 to 1939” (Theater Library Association, 1993) shows a gradual increase in the number of concerts, sports events, benefits and other more traditional offerings, less expensive to produce."
I think it’s also important to remember that his column is not billed as (or intended to be) an in-depth history of theaters and cinemas, but a brief column/“update” about New York City’s changing streetscape — particularly, it seems to me, it’s architecture.
It’s funny that Gray should have a column published on the Hippodrome just as he was being discussed in the Embassy 2, 3, 4 thread on this site. I briefly met Gray a number of years before he actually started writing his column, and have been a fan of his from the beginning. I think he could have done a really interesting and useful article on the Embassy 2, 3, 4 (I agree it should really be listed as the Mayfair, instead), and I’m about to post on the Embassy 2, 3, 4 thread a suggestion about how I think it might be possible to still get him to do one.
P.S. — I get the feeling that the database for each of the various photo archives on the NYPL site is separate from all the others. So if, for example, you are seaching for the the “XYZ Building” in the Milstein collection, you will not be searching for the “XYZ Building” in all the other collections. (This is just a guess on my part.)
Plus it seems to me that the collections are not organized the way one may think they “should.” For instance, I think I saw that one photo of a theater I was interested in was labeled “drugstore” because to the archivist the drugstore in the photo was more noteworthy than the theater.
I say this because I suspect that there may be a number of interesting theater photos scattered throughout the various collections, but that it will probably involve lots of scrolling through the various collections to actually find them — that the search feature is of limited value.
I went back to NYPL Milstein Collection (officially listed as, “Photographic Views of New York City, 1870s -1970s”) and found a 1917 photo of the Columbia Theater. The entrance to the Columbia Theater was indeed further to the south — symetrically (sp?) in the center of the facade.
The windows above the Columbia’s tunnel lobby entrance seem to be basically the same as those for the Mayfair. What was changed in the remodeling were the windows above the new entrance. So maybe the “Paramount” style of entrance was the new thing, and they did it with the Mayfair too?
I was unsure how to properly post a link, but here’s how you can find the photo:
1) You go to the main NYPL Digital Archive page;
2) then to “Cities and Buildings”;
3) then to “Phtographic Views of New York City, 1870s-1900s” (Milstein);
4) then search for (Photo ID) 709811F. It’s on page 191 of the thumbnails.)
It’s interesting to read that the opening movie at the Mayfair was an Amos ‘n Andy film called “Check and Double Check.” There is a comic song in the (terrific!) musical “Fine and Dandy” (1930) that uses the phrase “check and double check” with reference to Amos 'n Andy. I still don’t completely get the joke in the song, but at least I now have an idea of what the song was getting at. (By the way, a modern day, first-time recording of this show was released on CD a few months ago, and for those interested in popular music of the 1930s it is a wonderful find — like discovering a brand new score by George Gershwin. (Gershwin was, in fact, the boyfriend of Kay Swift, the composer of this show. Her soon to be ex-husband, Paul James, did the lyrics.)
I wonder how they added almost a thousand seats when they re-did the Columbia (1,350 seats) as the Mayfair (2,300 seats)? Just guessing from the various info that’s been posted so far: A) Perhaps the Mayfair seats were a lot smaller than the slightly larger than average Columbia seats?; B) Also, maybe they increased the size of the auditorium by taking away most of the Columbia’s stage? (I think they did something along these lines when Edward Durrell Stone remodeled the Gaiety as the Victoria.)
Still, that seem’s like a really large number of seats to add into the unchanged shell, and footprint, of an auditorium — especially since they didn’t seem to add a balcony (as the original theater had two separate balconies), but may have actually taken a balcony away (as the movie theater had a lodge and mezzanine, and it is unclear whehter this means two different balconies, or the front and back sections of one balcony).
Then, again, since we all know that Radio City Music Hall (and other venues of the time, too) didn’t always have the number of seats they were supposed to, maybe the 2,300 seat info is just PR?
I also wonder about the northward move of the theater’s tunnel lobby entrance. Where can this info be located? If it’s in “before and after” photos of the building, it would be interesting to see if they also redid the second and third floors of the office building when they moved the entrance. I say this because, architecturally speaking, the area above the “old” Columbia Theater entrance looks all “wrong” for an area above a theater’s tunnel lobby entrance, while the area above the Mayfair’s “new” marquee looks the way the area above a tunnel lobby entrance “should” look (e.g., compare it with the area above the Paramount Theater’s entrance).
By the way there are additional photos on the NYPL website of this building and, I believe, the Columbia Theater under construction. I forgot exactly how I found them, but I think you go to the Milstein collection and “scroll” through the collection street by street. (From what I remember, the photos can be accessed “geographically” — at least that’s the way I did it [but I’m not that technically savvy], with the low numbered streets and avenues being shown first.)
The Milstein collection also has some interesting photos of the Roxy under construction, and various other interesting photos of the theater district. (Most of the photos seemed to me to be from the very first third of the 20th Century — with lots of photos of brownstones (that were eventually replaced by theaters, etc.)!
I think it’s a mistake to discount the effectiveness of established landmark preservation and “neighborhood groups” — especially those from the Upper East Side of Manhattan!!! Not only do the people in these groups know what’s been going on all along (where the pressure points are, etc.) but the people in these groups tend to be “in the know” kind of people to begin with. Actually, if anyone has Harvey Weinstein’s phone number, it’s likely to be someone in one of these groups (although I doubt they are going to be giving it out to any newcomers, though).
Why try and reinvent the wheel? Judging from the “Our Town” article mentioned in my 2/21/05 post, the “Friends of the Upper East Side Hitoric Districts” would probably be a good group to start out with to see how one could help.
By the way, on Monday there is going to be a City Council hearing about the Landmark Preservation Commission — which, as I’ve posted before, a lot of preservationists are unhappy with. I can’t make it to the hearing, but I found out from the leader of Landmarks West! whom to submit mailed-in testimony to. Although my main concern is 2 Columbus Circle, I think I will mention the failure of the LPC to schedule a hearing on the Beekman in my mailed-in testimony also.
Here’s a copy of the e-mail I received from Landmarks West!:
Re: The City Council Oversight Hearing on the Landmarks Preservation Commission
Dear Benjamin:
Thanks for taking action. You can just send your testimony to Council Member Bill Perkins, who is the chair of the Government Operations Committee, which is holding this particular hearing.
His mailing address is: 163 West 125 St. 7th Floor, NYC 10027. And/or you can email it to .ny.us
Iâ€\d love to have a copy as well.
Best,
Kate
——-Original Message——–
Okay, here it is…Reprinted from the New York Times, Thursday, May 12, Arts Section.
“AN ARCHITECT’S BRICKBATS,"
Robin Pogrebin
The architect Robert A. M. Stern [Dean of the Yale School of Architecture] challenged the chairman of the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission on Tuesday night to explain why he did not hold a hearing on 2 Columbus Circle, designed by Edward Durell Stone as Huntington Hartford’s Gallery of Modern Art but never designated a landmark. The building is to be reconstructed as the Museum of Arts and Design. “Not to preserve the building is shocking, but not to hear it is criminal,” Mr. Stern said during a panel discussion at the 92nd Street Y, addressing Robert B. Tierney, the chairman. Mr. Tierney did not directly respond except to say that the commission had decided in 1996 not to hold a hearing on the building and that he had chosen not to revisit the decision. The panel, which discussed the effects of 40 years of landmarks regulation on architecture in New York, also included the architects Hugh Hardy and James Stewart Polshek.
AND DONâ€\T FORGET…
City Council Oversight Hearing on the Landmarks Preservation Commission
When: Monday, May 16, 10:00 A.M.
Where: City Hall, Committee Room, adjacent to large Council Chamber on second floor
Even if you testified at previous LPC oversight hearings in October and November 2004, please plan to attend and testify in support of meaningful improvements to the Landmarks process!
REMEMBER
· There is a 2- to 3-minute time limit for testimony.
· Please bring at least 10 copies of your written testimony to distribute to the Committee members.
Chris, I very much hope you get a chance to see a movie at the “Loew’s Jersey” and take a tour of the “Stanley.” While both of these theaters are listed as being in New Jersey, they are both very, very close to mid-town Manhattan (which is just across the Hudson River from New Jersey). They are probably more convenient to mid-town Manhattan than many parts of the Bronx, Queens or Brooklyn (and certainly more convenient than Staten Island). (Both of these theaters have listings, with lots of info on them, on the Cinema Treasures website.)
As far as I know, the Loew’s Jersey is the only remaining TRUE movie PALACE in the NYC area that still shows movies (albeit, mostly on weekends as a non-profit showcase, I believe). The Stanley, which is a block or two away from it, is also a TRUE movie PALACE that is used as a church — but I believe the church gives tours of it. (Check out the Cinema Treasures listings for both theaters for more details.)
(To clarify the terminology a bit: it seems to me that the current Ziegfeld is a movie THEATER, rather than a movie PALACE. In the same sense, one would say that the Alden and the Merrick (two, modestly decorated, 1,000+ [?] seat, local movie theaters in Jamaica, Queens) were movie THEATERS. The nearby Valencia (a lavishly decorated, 3,000+ [?] seat, atmospheric), however, was a movie PALACE. The Stanley, by the way is also an atmospheric, and as a kid it reminded me of the Valencia.)
The thing I would emphasize is that despite the “Jersey City” location, both of these theaters are extremely convenient to Manhattan. They are just steps away from the Jersey City station of the PATH train. (PATH is a “subway” — which in some ways is nicer than the NYC subway — that connects Manhattan with towns in nearby New Jersey, just across the Hudson River.) In Manhattan, there are PATH stations at Herald Sq., 23rd St., 14th St., 9th St., Christopher St. and at Ground Zero. The trains taking the most direct route leave from the newly rebuilt World Trade Center terminal — the other stations listed are on a train line that folows a more indirect route to Jersey City.
I have never been to the Loew’s Jersey myself. But I did go to the Stanley as a kid (to see Jerry Lewis' “Visit to a Small Planet”), and this theater is a TRUE movie palace that will show people who missed the movie palace era what people are talking about.
I also second Vito suggestion about Radio City Music Hall and — especially — the Beekman. Radio City Music Hall will always be there (hopefully!), but the Beekman is slated to be torn down very shortly. In a way, the Beekman is an early 1950s art house version of the movie “palace” (albeit, the “Petit Trianon”?) — it’s the very embodiment of a certain movie-going way of life. Check out the page on Cinema Treasures (especially the links that someone has posted to photographs). I think you will be kicking yourself if you miss out on visiting it before it is demolished.
P.S. — My post was not meant as a criticism of the virginia.edu website, as it does properly credit the photos and, by putting them on the web, it does make the photos of an out-of-print(?) book available for wider discussion on the internet.
Also, the pages I mentioned were from the edition that I have. The virginia.edu website may be referring to pages of a different edition of the book.
From a brief glance, it seems to me that about 80% of the photos (and possibly the info, too) on the virginia.edu websites are but a brief sampling from the wonderful Ben Hall book, the “Best Remaining Seats.”
For example, (and I’m not sure of this, since I don’t have my copy handy), I believe that the “floor plan” (really a “section”) that is shown on the website is a scan of page 82 from the Ben Hall book, and that the rest of the drawing, the missing “floor plan” of the auditorium itself (properly speaking, more of an “elevation”), can be found on page 83. PLUS on page 128, the Hall book has a genuine floorplan of the (first floor) of the Roxy theater. (These were the diagrams discussed in my January 7, 2005 post, above.)
For those of you who live in or around New York City: a few weeks ago I was at the Strand Bookstore (Broadway and 12th St.) and saw that they had about two or three used copies of “Best Remaining Seats” for sale. I didn’t check out the price, but the Strand is famous for its great prices. (They also had a seemingly brand new copy of the “Cinema Treasures” book for ½ price.)
I think anyone interested in movie palaces would really be floored by the Ben Hall book — there is so much unbelievable stuff in it (like reproductions of newspaper ads and pages from opening night commemorative booklets, etc.)
Jerry, thanks for the confirmation and added details about MSG! (I know you’re looking for photos of 42nd St.; I’d love to run across a photo of the inside of the MSG “arcade.” So far, I’ve only been able to find photos of the exterior that just give a hint of the aracade.)
Regarding, the photo of the New Amsterdam: if I’m looking at the correct photo on the New Amsterdam page (posted on Sun., 4/17/05), the Nedick’s shown is on the southwest corner of 42nd and Seventh Ave., a few doors down from the New Amsterdam.
But there used to be a snack stand that was just “inside” the entrance to a theater on the north side of 42nd St. (This snack stand was on the right side of the entrance.) Whether this was the Selwyn Theater, or another theater, I’m not sure. Also, whether it was a true “Nedick’s” — or a Nedick’s-“type” place — I’m also not sure.
I haven’t been able to access your video clip to compare it to what I remember. But I’m guessing that perhaps you just never gave the snack stand a second thought because to you it seemed like just another snack stand on 42nd St. “next to” — rather than “inside” — a movie theater entrance? This would certainly be a reasonable perception, since it really WAS just another snack stand on 42nd St. next to a movie theater entrance. The “inside” part, while somewhat unusual was also somewhat subtle — and perhaps more noticeable to people unfamiliar with 42nd St.
When one talks about movie going habits, etc. during the roadshow “era,” I think the whole thing makes a lot more sense when one reflects upon just how different the world was in those days. Obviously, not only didn’t the DVD/VCR, cable/satellite TV, etc. exist, but even much of today’s suburbs — let alone their mall multiplexes — didn’t exist then either. So, in those days, centrally located (reachable by subway and commuter train) downtown movie palaces and hard ticket, reserved seat, theaters for “event” movies made a lot more sense given the technology and demographics of the time.
I remember, for instance, in the late 1950s when I would stay for the summer with relatives out in Kings Park, Long Island, you would go by seemingly mile after mile of farm land (potatoes?, lettuce?) before you would ever get to Kings Park. There were basically only six TV stations (which would go off the air at night after the “Late Show” or the “Tonight Show”). All the “good” movies advertised on TV (“Rodan,” Disney’s “Sleeping Beauty,” “Old Yeller,” etc.) seemed to be playing only in downtown New York City theaters — and wouldn’t get to play Long Island for many, many weeks (or so it seemed to me as a child). And those that did play Long Island, seemed to first play at only one theater in Commack (?).
Perhaps an even better illustration is the circus. These days Ringling Bros. plays Madison Sq. Garden and (I believe) the Nassau Coliseum and Continental Arena. In the late 1950s, it played only Madison Sq. Garden (the other two venues not being built until the mid-1970s, early 1980s?). (I believe Long Island did, however, get the smaller Clyde Beatty Circus at some precursor to the Nassau Coliseum [the Commack Arena?]. And I suppose some places in New Jersey got the Clyde Beatty Circus also.)
So given the options (or lack thereof), traveling downtown to wait on a long line to see a movie / stage show or to see a special “event” movie (with reserved seats) made a lot of sense!
From the descriptions in the two previous posts (hardbop and br91975), it seems to me that people might get the mistaken idea that the eatery (at one time, I believe, a “Nedick’s”) was actually intended primarily for the patrons of the Selwyn, and that pedestrians walking by on 42nd St. could somehow go into the theater to patronize it. (And that theater patrons could somehow go to this snack stand without leaving the theater.)
However, if I am remembering the theater entrance correctly, I would describe the relationship between the theater and the snack stand somewhat differently. Basically, if I recall it correctly, the theater had a very wide entrance that was somewhat “arcade-like,” and the “Nedick’s” storefront opened up onto this “arcade” instead of directly out onto the street. (My fuzzy recollection is that the doorway to the small office building that was located above the Selwyn’s “tunnel lobby” was on the other side of this wide entrance.)
So although a Selwyn patron wouldn’t have to go out into the rain, for instance, to patronize this Nedick’s, he or she still would have to walk down the long ticket lobby and actually exit the theater — for good — past the ticket taker to get to this 42nd St. snack stand. And of course, to a 42nd St. pedestrian, the “Nedick’s” would appear to be just another 42nd St. snack stand, although one that happened to open off a wide movie theater entrance instead of directly onto the street.
These very wide “arcade” type entrances (which I’ve always liked) are, unfortunately, rare in New York City. The New Amsterdam (as a movie theater grind house) had a somewhat similarly wide entrance (but no snack stand that I recall). And there are three or four “older” NYC office buildings that come to mind, that also have something that is somewhat similar. But perhaps the best example along these lines was the old Madison Sq. Garden on Eighth Ave. It’s arcade entrance (before you got to the ticket takers) seemed to be a recessed “mini-plaza” with a number of stores / snack stands, etc. opening off of it (at least that’s the way it seemed to me as a child).
But getting back to the case of the Selwyn, I think it’s more accurate to describe the “snack bar/restaurant” as just another 42nd St. snack stand / hot dog stand / luncheonette(?) — but one that happened, however, to open up onto a very wide theater entrance instead of directly onto the street.
Who was the first theater manager to actually bring over the idea of the red carpet to movie premieres? While it’s an interesting question, I wonder if the idea was such a “no brainer” when it was first done (because of the common use of red carpets elsewhere) that nobody paid enough attention to note the occassion? (Similarly, I wonder what bank / bank manager was the first to start the “one line” concept?)
However, my guess is that the first theater manager to use a red carpet was probably a “showman” like Samuel “Roxy” Rothapfel. Or, at least, he would probably be the first to get credit (in newspapers, etc.) for doing something like that.
In terms of a research tools, I’m wondering if Ben Hall mentions the introduction of red carpets anywhere in his classic book on movie palaces, “The Best Remaining Seats”?
Also, as a reporter, you may already know about this, but I just found out about it a few weeks ago: if you go to a university research library, they have access to something called “Proquest” which allows you to both search a newspaper database using keywords (like red carpet) and view the newspaper article itself almost immediately on a PC screen. The database has access to and searches through the New York Times from its inception until about 2001. I believe the Los Angeles Times is also covered under a similar date range.
Good luck!
I’m not sure about this, but I always assumed that the Ziegfeld Theater was part of the same zoning lot as the skyscraper next door (and that the skyscraper got a zoning bonus for providing the through-block “park” separating the two).
If that’s is the case, then I think there would some kind of constraint as to what could be built on the Ziegfeld site — since the skyscraper next door had already not only utilized all the allowable commercial space for the zoning lot, but was bonused for the through block “park” to boot.
If this is true, and I’m not mistaken, this is actually a pretty clever use of space under the existing zoning regulations (whether these regulations are good urbanism or not, is a different question). On the Avenue, you have a tall skyscraper utilizing the allowable commercial space, with front and side “plazas” and a through block pedestrian “park” boosting the amount of space the skyscraper can have. Plus you have a low-rise theater, with a parking garage entrance (below the theater on the 55th St. side) on the side streets, utilizing the areas that cannot be built up too much. (And, I’m guessing, that the parking garage space extends beneath the through block “park.”)
I remember seeing films at the Public Theater on two “occasions.”
Once was in the very early 1970s, when I went with some friends to see a film in their brand new cinema. If I recall correctly, we went to experience the theater itself, as it was advertised as having a very unusual set-up. (I don’t even remember what film we went to see.) If I recall correctly, each seat in the auditorium was encased by partitions and had some sort of hood — to block out any extraneous distractions.
The second “occasion” was to see a Judy Holiday film festival (all eight(?) of her films!), which is one of my favorite film going experiences. (I think I went to three double bills and skipped the fourth.) I don’t think the theater had the same set-up then, however. (The Judy Holiday film festival was, I think in the late 1980s.)
I’ve always been a big Judy Holiday fan, ever since I saw either “Solid Gold Cadillac” or “It Should Happen to You” on TV in the 1960s(?) — perhaps on “Million Dollar Movie” on Channel 9 in NYC. So I was curious about a number of her other films which one never seemed to see around at revival houses etc. At the Public Theater I got to see all of her movies (although I think I skipped “Bells Are Ringing” and one other film for some reason) — both the good and the bad.
“The Marrying Kind” was one of the good ones — I was so glad that I had an opportunity to see this film. (Although, these days, one can probably easily see it on DVD.) “Full of Life” and, I believe, “Pffft” were among the bad ones. They were not really awful, but still they were noticeably bad. “Pfttt” (which was “stolen” by a young Kim Novack) even had, for instance, a scene where a cinema ignoramus like me could tell how the lights in the sound studio were being operated. And “Full of Life” seemed to me to be poorly written, with a weird (and unsuccessful) mix of comedy and family drama.
But even the bad ones were fun for me, in part because I realized that my movie going experience had really included very few, if any, “noticeably” bad movies â€" as I usually skipped movies that were supposed to be bad, in the first place.
I think the defining features that would make a theater the “first” TRUE “twin,” “triplex,” “quad,” or “multiplex” is that the auditoria would have had a common box office and common lobby (refreshment stands, restrooms, etc.) — all while maintaining separate projection booths. These are the darwinian features that are considered to have enabled the new species of movie theater (the multiplex) to replace the old dinosaurs (single screen theaters).
While it would be interesting to find out what was the first at each level (twin, triplex, quad, etc.), it would also be interesting to find out which theater really opened the eyes of the movie industry to the money making possibilities of separate small auditoria sharing common box offices and lobby spaces.
Reading Cinema Treasures, one can get a sense of when the earlier movie theater building booms occurred (although this would be even easier to see if each profile had a date field and if date opened was also a sort category). It would also be interesting to get a detailed sense of when the multiplex movement started to gain momentum and when older, neighborhood single-screen theaters started to shift to X-rated films — at least they did in NYC — or were converted to retail or demolished.
(A suggested correction to the description at the top of this page: the name of the architect who re-designed the Elgin into the Joyce was Hugh Hardy — not Hugh Howard.)
I believe I started going to the Elgin in 1968. For me, this was THE quintessential New York revival movie house — even more so than the Thalia, the New Yorker or the Regency. Perhaps this was, in part, because I was living nearby in Greenwich Village and went there a lot but also, perhaps, because of its hip atmosphere and decor — which for me was epitomized by its basement lounge which had a 60’s “pop art” flavored decor that included a barber’s chair and, I think, track lighting and can spots (which were new to me).
I believe the Elgin — along with the Thalia or New Yorker(?) — used to run a summer film festival of film classics co-sponsored with a famous art film distributor (whose name I can’t recall at the moment). I think both theaters (along with the other revival film houses, also?) used to have these very, very long handbills/flyers where they would list the names of all the films that would be shown for the next few weeks. I, along with others presumably, would then mark off the appropriate dates on a calendar.
You could pull the handbill/flyer off of a string at the theater itself or, I guess, you could also have them mail one to you if you put yourself on their mailing list.
I don’t remember all the films I saw at the Elgin, but I do remember seeing “Citizen Kane” and “The Lady Vanishes” on one double-bill. It was such a memorable double-bill because both movies were so entertaining and because I had somehow gotten the mistaken impression that “Citizen Kane” was one of those films that one “should” see to be an educated adult — but were really excruciatingly boring.
In the late 1960s, the surrounding area, despite some very beautiful streets, was generally seen as a poor relation to Greenwich Village. So even in its pre-Joyce days, people saw the Elgin as providing a shot of vitality to the main shopping street of Chelsea. I think there was a somewhat famous Chinese-Spanish restaurant, “Asia de Cuba,” located across the street in an old diner — maybe it had gotten good reviews in “the Underground Gourmet” feature of “New York Magazine”? And for a while, I think there was a second-hand bookstore located next to the theater’s entrance. (I believe the bookstore space was incorporated into the Joyce’s lobby areas.) So this part of Chelsea seemed to me to be one of those areas that were the epitome of 60’s New York bohemia and chic.
While I had assumed it was a robbery, I don’t think it had occurred to me before how unusually vulnerable the Quad box office is (was?) to armed robbery — kind of the opposite of “defensible space.” Unlike the “classic” movie theater box office which is 1) “protected” by glass and 2) right out on the street where a robbery would be out in the open, the Quad box office is (was?) just a counter with no glass, and it was far enough off the street to make a robbery less visible, while close enough to the street to provide a quick getaway.
I wonder if anyone knows what theater lays claim — for better or worse! — to being the first true duplex or multiplex? I’m pretty sure it is NOT Cinema I, II (& III), since I believe it had two different box offices for each of its original two theaters. I wonder if it might be the Baronet/Coronet, the Quad or some other theater outside of NYC?