Agreed John. Every time I drive through 9th & Cumberland, I think of the song that goes, “They tore down paradise and put up a parking lot.” Literally, a shame.
John, painted flats are large canvas sheets with scenery painted on them, and hung on the stage for live performances. The flats from the Academy may very well have dated back to vaudeville. I’m pretty sure one of them was full of advertisements.
I don’t remember much of anything of the State theater before its conversion to nightclub (called “On Stage” with a clever sign alteration).
For the record, when all the controversy was brewing around the condition of the Colonial, my husband and I were granted access. This was after it was “stripped” of all its valuables. At least some of the flats were still there, hanging behind the curtain. The person who escorted us (one of the salvagers) told us by the time he got in there, the valuable fixtures in question were already removed. All he got out of the theater were some cast iron seat ends which he restored. I can tell you what we saw would have made you cry. I can’t believe there was ANYTHING of value left by the time the “investor” bought it; whatever remained was severely damaged by exposure. It’s a shame because that was a beautiful and (for its time) a well-appointed theater.
The roof could have been repaired, but the damage caused by that hole was extensive. Much of the ornate plaster on the ceilings and the walls had migrated onto the carpet. And fixtures like the seats, projectors, concession stand were all ruined. A sad irony: old painted flats were removed from the Academy before the auditorium was demolished and taken to the Colonial for preservation. Unless somehow they were saved, they might have been lost with that building.
The Colonial was open at least until 1982, showing “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas” as possibly its last feature. It was sold to an individual at a tax auction for $49. The “Friends of the Colonial” could have purchased it at the time, but were aware of the (already) extensive damage caused by a substantial hole in the roof. By the time anything was removed, the interior of that building was most likely beyond economical repair. A real shame.
Agreed John. Every time I drive through 9th & Cumberland, I think of the song that goes, “They tore down paradise and put up a parking lot.” Literally, a shame.
John, painted flats are large canvas sheets with scenery painted on them, and hung on the stage for live performances. The flats from the Academy may very well have dated back to vaudeville. I’m pretty sure one of them was full of advertisements. I don’t remember much of anything of the State theater before its conversion to nightclub (called “On Stage” with a clever sign alteration).
For the record, when all the controversy was brewing around the condition of the Colonial, my husband and I were granted access. This was after it was “stripped” of all its valuables. At least some of the flats were still there, hanging behind the curtain. The person who escorted us (one of the salvagers) told us by the time he got in there, the valuable fixtures in question were already removed. All he got out of the theater were some cast iron seat ends which he restored. I can tell you what we saw would have made you cry. I can’t believe there was ANYTHING of value left by the time the “investor” bought it; whatever remained was severely damaged by exposure. It’s a shame because that was a beautiful and (for its time) a well-appointed theater.
The roof could have been repaired, but the damage caused by that hole was extensive. Much of the ornate plaster on the ceilings and the walls had migrated onto the carpet. And fixtures like the seats, projectors, concession stand were all ruined. A sad irony: old painted flats were removed from the Academy before the auditorium was demolished and taken to the Colonial for preservation. Unless somehow they were saved, they might have been lost with that building.
The Colonial was open at least until 1982, showing “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas” as possibly its last feature. It was sold to an individual at a tax auction for $49. The “Friends of the Colonial” could have purchased it at the time, but were aware of the (already) extensive damage caused by a substantial hole in the roof. By the time anything was removed, the interior of that building was most likely beyond economical repair. A real shame.