Actually, the theatre with the round windows is the former Brown’s Opera House, which would eventually be remodeled and become known as the Crystal. The building immediately this side of it with the two curving bay windows still stands today, and abuts the part of the Maya Cinemas that occupies the former Crystal site. The White Theatre is the facade that is five buildings to the right of the Brown’s/Crystal—the last front before the two story buildings which make up the remainder of the block.
I just updated the Google streetview, and it now shows, unquestionably, the former State. It was built exactly as in the architectural rendering shown on CinemaTour. This rendering appears in the 1945 Edition of Theatre Catalog, in a section on theatres to be built Postwar. The architect was Vincent G. Raney. The theatre exterior is missing the vertical and box office today, and there is a small sign (likely a former readerboard) atop the canopy, but other than that, it appears today the same as in Raney’s rendering. The theatre was designed with 550 seats, and the 1949 Film Daily Year Book confirms this. The lobby is shown in the floor plan as circular, with a lounge off to the Right (behind the little glass block window).
The 1945 Edition of Theatre Catalog shows a facade rendering and floor plans for a proposed El Rey Theatre in Wasco, to have been designed by Vincent G. Raney. It looks nothing like the Wasco, and is clearly a built-from-scratch design, with the auditorium set back from the sidewalk. Apparently this was never built.
The 1945 Edition of Theatre Catalog shows both a rendering and floor plans of the Plaza from Raney’s drawing boards, though the theatre was originally to have been called the Rodeo. The facade as seen today is nothing like it was originally designed, though when I first saw it and it was still running movies, it was much like what is seen today.
Joe Vogel: You are correct. The building housing Canty and Marquez is the former Grove Theatre. The central bay on the ground floor is where the original theatre entrance was.
The vellum architectural drawings of the Grove from Jorgensen’s office are very large. There is a possibility of my acquiring them as part of a business transaction, but it’s not definite. If so, I will photograph them and will be happy to post photos. Scanning them directly on a flatbed would be very expensive, due to the size.
The Laurel Theatre in San Carlos used the same master drawings for some of the human figures in its auditorium murals as were used in the Stamm. A photo which proves this can be found in “Theatres of the San Francisco Peninsula” which theatre historian Jack Tillmany and I co-authored. They are the same figures, but arranged differently.
These two photos of the painted details are interesting. I had heard from several sources that when the Academy was ‘plexed, it was completely gutted, tearing out the later Moderne interior, and the original Egyptian decor underneath that. Apparently that was not the case with every corner of the building.
Corrections—revealed by the posting of the aerial photo of the drive-in: The theatre was bounded by Aster Avenue, and Evelyn Avenue. As stated earlier, it was entered from Aster. The site is now indeed condos. The adjacent small shopping center occupies an adjacent plot of land, just out of the photo, to the Right.
Thank you, Joe! Yes, that is unquestionably the theater which later was renamed Strand.
The stained glass transom window I mention was inserted into that arch, and the cornice above the arch is the one I speak of, and lasted intact until the building was remodeled to house Fibbar MaGee’s pub.
According to an old schedule dating from 1927, and now housed at the Sunnyvale Historical Museum, the Strand exhibited five different shows a week. It was a nearly movies-only policy, although the theater’s small stage was occasionally graced at that time by small musical acts, and Oreol McLaughlin of Our Gang Comedies made a personal appearance. At that time, adult admission was 30 cents; children were 15 cents, and anyone sitting in the loge section (the stadium seating in the rear half of the auditorium) paid 40 cents.
The theater was renamed Sunnyvale in 1935. Blanco’s Peninsular Theatres took over operation from 1937 to 1943.
The 1949 Film Daily Yearbook lists seating as 934.
During its mid-1980s run as Murphy Street Cinema, a policy of two, three, or even four features on a single program was tried, as shown on a schedule from those years which is also preserved at the Sunnyvale Historical Museum. The schedules were distributed locally. Patrons paid differing prices depending on how many features on the program they wished to see, a policy which no doubt led to some confusion. The Rocky Horror Picture Show was shown on Saturdays at Midnight.
An unusual bit of showmanship, but indeed quite creative, in the “making lemonade out of lemons” category. It was great to visit this venerable and still vital theatre during the Philadelphia/Baltimore Theatre Historical Society Conclave a few years back.
The former Sunnyvale (which should not be listed here as Forum anymore—that appellation lasted for a very short time in the 2000s and has not been used for years) is now once again opened as a restaurant and nightclub called Pure. The exterior looks exactly the same as it has for the last decade-plus, and the interior architecture has been through only minor changes. The lobby has been given a treatment of blue and white wallpaper in a metallic swirl motif. The auditorium has been given a uniform white paint job, covering all the walls and ceiling, but otherwise leaving intact the eclectic Egypto-Italo-Skouras-Tatooine plasterwork dating from its days as the Palace, Forum, and Abyss. Down front, the Streamline Moderne plaster proscenium and ceiling coves, as well as aluminum-housed curtain lights in the ceiling from the movie days, survive. The decor gets a sense of color by indirect multicolored LED lighting hidden in coves and sconces, and very imaginatively designed stacked glass table bases. The upstairs lounge room behind the facade’s arched windows seems to no longer be used as a public space, and still preserves its painted decor from the 1990s years as the Palace/Forum. The multicolored window film which I myself installed on the insides of the arched windows in the early 90s is still in place—though bubbled in some spots from nearly 20 years of UV exposure.
An added bonus for history: The c. 1940s terrazzo pavement in the entrance and sidewalk out front has been expertly patched and polished.
The previous Hollywood Fox was the one previously known as the Music Box, then—after being Fox, had its signage altered to read PIX, then became the Henry Fonda. So THAT would have been the theatre renamed Fox in 1955, whereas the Iris kept its name until the 1968 remodeling.
It turns out that the Brisbane still stands. It was gutted and turned into apartments. In an Arcadia Publishing book titled Brisbane, there is a photo showing the theatre being converted. To this day, you can see that the proportions of the building are still the same, and even though there is a little atrium in the entrance, it is accessed by a passage the exact size of the exterior ticket lobby.
In this photo can be seen three fragments of the terrazzo sidewalk which was in front of the theatre entrance. Most of the terrazzo was destroyed during the demolition, and it appears that nearly everything that did survive was retained here, as best as I can remember. The fragments are not at all in their original position, and it is clear that when the city redid the sidewalks, these fragments of the remaining terrazzo surface which survived the demolition were saved and placed in a new concrete patch. Not a whole lot left, but at least someone cared.
I have never seen a single photo of the interior. The one time I went to a movie there in the early 90s, I asked if I could take pictures and was not granted permission (with today’s tiny digital cameras, I wouldn’t have bothered asking, just snapped away). So, Plan B. I had my sketchbook, and did a drawing on the spot before and after the movie. I’ve posted it under the Photos section on this Studio page. It is as accurate a representation I could do in the time allowed. I have a lot of experience drawing buildings, so you can count on this as a faithful representation of the essential look of the auditorium. Check it out!
A couple of weeks ago I popped by again. Not to appear to contradict my friend Terry, but the lobby itself is still there, with its streamlined ceiling coves. What HAS been gutted out is the little “sunken” lounge behind where the concession counter was, which led to the restrooms.
The entrance to the Rio was on the right half of the terra cotta clad facade in the Google photo. Note that in the three bays on the Right there are no transom windows. This is where the marquee was. If one goes around the corner and walks up the alley next to the Alameda Theatre, the small brick auditorium structure of the former Rio is obvious.
In the Google photo above, you can see the little facade of this theatre, with cornice at the top. The trapezoidal frame of the marquee can still be seen in use, reduced to being the support structure for an awning.
This is fun to see. It is in keeping with the feel of the Century ‘plex that is in Downtown Hayward, which has a Moderne Revival vertical sign and other elements evocative of theatres past. Aesthetically, this and the murals serve to partially make up for the fact that both of Downtown Hayward’s classic movie theatres, the Hayward and the Ritz, are long gone.
Actually, the theatre with the round windows is the former Brown’s Opera House, which would eventually be remodeled and become known as the Crystal. The building immediately this side of it with the two curving bay windows still stands today, and abuts the part of the Maya Cinemas that occupies the former Crystal site. The White Theatre is the facade that is five buildings to the right of the Brown’s/Crystal—the last front before the two story buildings which make up the remainder of the block.
I just updated the Google streetview, and it now shows, unquestionably, the former State. It was built exactly as in the architectural rendering shown on CinemaTour. This rendering appears in the 1945 Edition of Theatre Catalog, in a section on theatres to be built Postwar. The architect was Vincent G. Raney. The theatre exterior is missing the vertical and box office today, and there is a small sign (likely a former readerboard) atop the canopy, but other than that, it appears today the same as in Raney’s rendering. The theatre was designed with 550 seats, and the 1949 Film Daily Year Book confirms this. The lobby is shown in the floor plan as circular, with a lounge off to the Right (behind the little glass block window).
The 1945 Edition of Theatre Catalog shows a facade rendering and floor plans for a proposed El Rey Theatre in Wasco, to have been designed by Vincent G. Raney. It looks nothing like the Wasco, and is clearly a built-from-scratch design, with the auditorium set back from the sidewalk. Apparently this was never built.
The 1945 Edition of Theatre Catalog shows both a rendering and floor plans of the Plaza from Raney’s drawing boards, though the theatre was originally to have been called the Rodeo. The facade as seen today is nothing like it was originally designed, though when I first saw it and it was still running movies, it was much like what is seen today.
Joe Vogel: You are correct. The building housing Canty and Marquez is the former Grove Theatre. The central bay on the ground floor is where the original theatre entrance was.
The vellum architectural drawings of the Grove from Jorgensen’s office are very large. There is a possibility of my acquiring them as part of a business transaction, but it’s not definite. If so, I will photograph them and will be happy to post photos. Scanning them directly on a flatbed would be very expensive, due to the size.
Where in the world is this organ currently in storage?
The Laurel Theatre in San Carlos used the same master drawings for some of the human figures in its auditorium murals as were used in the Stamm. A photo which proves this can be found in “Theatres of the San Francisco Peninsula” which theatre historian Jack Tillmany and I co-authored. They are the same figures, but arranged differently.
These two photos of the painted details are interesting. I had heard from several sources that when the Academy was ‘plexed, it was completely gutted, tearing out the later Moderne interior, and the original Egyptian decor underneath that. Apparently that was not the case with every corner of the building.
Corrections—revealed by the posting of the aerial photo of the drive-in: The theatre was bounded by Aster Avenue, and Evelyn Avenue. As stated earlier, it was entered from Aster. The site is now indeed condos. The adjacent small shopping center occupies an adjacent plot of land, just out of the photo, to the Right.
I neglected to state that the Sunnyvale Drive-In had TWO screens.
Thank you, Joe! Yes, that is unquestionably the theater which later was renamed Strand.
The stained glass transom window I mention was inserted into that arch, and the cornice above the arch is the one I speak of, and lasted intact until the building was remodeled to house Fibbar MaGee’s pub.
According to an old schedule dating from 1927, and now housed at the Sunnyvale Historical Museum, the Strand exhibited five different shows a week. It was a nearly movies-only policy, although the theater’s small stage was occasionally graced at that time by small musical acts, and Oreol McLaughlin of Our Gang Comedies made a personal appearance. At that time, adult admission was 30 cents; children were 15 cents, and anyone sitting in the loge section (the stadium seating in the rear half of the auditorium) paid 40 cents. The theater was renamed Sunnyvale in 1935. Blanco’s Peninsular Theatres took over operation from 1937 to 1943.
The 1949 Film Daily Yearbook lists seating as 934. During its mid-1980s run as Murphy Street Cinema, a policy of two, three, or even four features on a single program was tried, as shown on a schedule from those years which is also preserved at the Sunnyvale Historical Museum. The schedules were distributed locally. Patrons paid differing prices depending on how many features on the program they wished to see, a policy which no doubt led to some confusion. The Rocky Horror Picture Show was shown on Saturdays at Midnight.
An unusual bit of showmanship, but indeed quite creative, in the “making lemonade out of lemons” category. It was great to visit this venerable and still vital theatre during the Philadelphia/Baltimore Theatre Historical Society Conclave a few years back.
The former Sunnyvale (which should not be listed here as Forum anymore—that appellation lasted for a very short time in the 2000s and has not been used for years) is now once again opened as a restaurant and nightclub called Pure. The exterior looks exactly the same as it has for the last decade-plus, and the interior architecture has been through only minor changes. The lobby has been given a treatment of blue and white wallpaper in a metallic swirl motif. The auditorium has been given a uniform white paint job, covering all the walls and ceiling, but otherwise leaving intact the eclectic Egypto-Italo-Skouras-Tatooine plasterwork dating from its days as the Palace, Forum, and Abyss. Down front, the Streamline Moderne plaster proscenium and ceiling coves, as well as aluminum-housed curtain lights in the ceiling from the movie days, survive. The decor gets a sense of color by indirect multicolored LED lighting hidden in coves and sconces, and very imaginatively designed stacked glass table bases. The upstairs lounge room behind the facade’s arched windows seems to no longer be used as a public space, and still preserves its painted decor from the 1990s years as the Palace/Forum. The multicolored window film which I myself installed on the insides of the arched windows in the early 90s is still in place—though bubbled in some spots from nearly 20 years of UV exposure. An added bonus for history: The c. 1940s terrazzo pavement in the entrance and sidewalk out front has been expertly patched and polished.
The previous Hollywood Fox was the one previously known as the Music Box, then—after being Fox, had its signage altered to read PIX, then became the Henry Fonda. So THAT would have been the theatre renamed Fox in 1955, whereas the Iris kept its name until the 1968 remodeling.
It turns out that the Brisbane still stands. It was gutted and turned into apartments. In an Arcadia Publishing book titled Brisbane, there is a photo showing the theatre being converted. To this day, you can see that the proportions of the building are still the same, and even though there is a little atrium in the entrance, it is accessed by a passage the exact size of the exterior ticket lobby.
In this photo can be seen three fragments of the terrazzo sidewalk which was in front of the theatre entrance. Most of the terrazzo was destroyed during the demolition, and it appears that nearly everything that did survive was retained here, as best as I can remember. The fragments are not at all in their original position, and it is clear that when the city redid the sidewalks, these fragments of the remaining terrazzo surface which survived the demolition were saved and placed in a new concrete patch. Not a whole lot left, but at least someone cared.
Glad you enjoyed it. Thanks.
I have never seen a single photo of the interior. The one time I went to a movie there in the early 90s, I asked if I could take pictures and was not granted permission (with today’s tiny digital cameras, I wouldn’t have bothered asking, just snapped away). So, Plan B. I had my sketchbook, and did a drawing on the spot before and after the movie. I’ve posted it under the Photos section on this Studio page. It is as accurate a representation I could do in the time allowed. I have a lot of experience drawing buildings, so you can count on this as a faithful representation of the essential look of the auditorium. Check it out!
A couple of weeks ago I popped by again. Not to appear to contradict my friend Terry, but the lobby itself is still there, with its streamlined ceiling coves. What HAS been gutted out is the little “sunken” lounge behind where the concession counter was, which led to the restrooms.
In the early 1990s, the former Grande was functioning as an antique store. The proscenium could still be seen at the back of the store.
The entrance to the Rio was on the right half of the terra cotta clad facade in the Google photo. Note that in the three bays on the Right there are no transom windows. This is where the marquee was. If one goes around the corner and walks up the alley next to the Alameda Theatre, the small brick auditorium structure of the former Rio is obvious.
In the Google photo above, you can see the little facade of this theatre, with cornice at the top. The trapezoidal frame of the marquee can still be seen in use, reduced to being the support structure for an awning.
This is fun to see. It is in keeping with the feel of the Century ‘plex that is in Downtown Hayward, which has a Moderne Revival vertical sign and other elements evocative of theatres past. Aesthetically, this and the murals serve to partially make up for the fact that both of Downtown Hayward’s classic movie theatres, the Hayward and the Ritz, are long gone.