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Canadian Historic Sites: Occasional Papers in Archaeology and History No. 13
All that Glitters: A Memorial to Ottawa's Capitol Theatre and its Predecessors
by Hilary Russell
Aftermath
Movie palace building continued unabated in the United States until
about 1931. Seating capacities tended to increase: embellishments became
more fantastic, bizarre and complex. The pinnacle was reached in 1927
with the opening of the vast, gilded Roxy theatre in New York, "The
Cathedral of the Motion Pictures," with the largest and most luxurious
everything in the world.
Following his Adam period, Lamb launched into heavily ornamented
Italian and Louis XVI baroque designs. He explained that shortly after
he had completed the Capitol in New York, he
noted a lessening of the response of the average patron to the
charm of architectural backgrounds patterned after the works of the Adam
brothers. There was an underlying demand for something more gay, more
flashy a development for which there is much precedent in the
history of architecture.1
Some examples of Lamb theatres with this inspiration were the
Midland, Kansas City, Warner's Hollywood, New York and the San Francisco
Fox. There are no Canadian examples of Lamb's later style.
The flamboyance of baroque styles led Lamb further afield in the late
twenties to design even more fantastic Persian, Moorish and Romanesque
structures. These theatres, larded with colour and plaster ornament,
Lamb considered his greatest successes (Fig. 120).2 He felt
that his oriental styles were
brightly colorful, emotional and almost seductive in...wealth of
color and detail.... These exotic ornaments are particularly
effective in creating an atmosphere in which the mind is free to frolic
and becomes receptive to entertainment.3
120 One of Lamb's oriental efforts, the State theatre,
in Syracuse, N.Y.
(Motion Picture News.)
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In Lamb's opinion these theatres had the added bonus of imparting a
knowledge to Americans of "what other nations and races have
done."4
Lamb's oriental experiments were at least partially inspired by the
exotic designs of John Eberson, a movie palace architect as prolific and
influential as Lamb. Eberson devised the "atmospheric" theatre in 1922
the ultimate in escapism. An Eberson "atmospheric" was "a
magnificent amphitheatre under a glorious moonlit sky... an Italian
garden, a Persian court, a Spanish patio, or a mystic Egyptian temple
yard...where friendly stars twinkled and wisps of clouds
drifted."5 Its patrons had the impression of sitting under a
clear, deep blue, tropical sky. Across the plaster firmament floated
twinkling stars and fluffy clouds, courtesy of the Brenkert Brenograph
Junior. The walls of an atmospheric theatre swarmed with arches,
peacocks, pergolas, colonnades, arbutus, illuminated lattice garden houses,
statues, vines and exotic foliage (Figs. 121-122). The plaster
decorations were fairly standard, being supplied by Eberson's
Michaelangelo Studios.6
121 An Eberson atmospheric the State theatre,
Kalamazoo, Michigan.
(Theatre Historical Society.)
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122 Vintage Eberson the auditorium of the Paradise Theatre,
Chicago.
(Chicago Architectural Photographing Company Collection,
Theatre Historical Society.)
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Lamb was persuaded to design a number of atmospherics, but it was his
opinion that "this type of work" would not endure. He objected to
valuable space being used in the auditorium for effects instead of
seats, and to the propensity of the three-dimensional ornamental details
for gathering dust.7 He maintained that there was very little
saving in the atmospheric type of construction. Ben Hall insisted that
"with all their Persian carpeted flights of fancy, they cost about
one-fourth as much to build and maintain as the standard crystal and
damask models."8
A few deluxe-sized atmospheric theatres were built in Canada (Fig.
123). A Citizen reviewer wrote on the 1928 opening of the Avalon,
an Ottawa atmospheric on Bank and Second Avenue:
One gains the impression of being far from the noise and bustle of
the capitol of Canada, tucked away in some quaint old Spanish town,
listening to dreamy music while make-believe stars gleam fitfully
through a sky of deepest blue, and while clouds roll lazily over the
quartered moon, and doves flutter softly through the summer
night.9
123 The Capitol in Saskatoon, an atmospheric theatre built in 1929.
About half a dozen atmospheric theatres were built in Canada, mostly
between 1926 and 1929.
(Theatre Historical Society.)
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The Capitol, a fascinating exotic movie theatre whose decoration also
broke the Adam-Empire mould, was opened in Halifax in 1929. In a
"medieval" atmosphere of turrets, drawbridges, beamed "Tudor" ceilings
and heraldic insignia and banners appeared murals of Champlain's Order
of Good Cheer and Wolfe and his loyal forces besieging Louisbourg. The
grand foyer of this theatre was rendered "atmospheric," while the
auditorium was unmistakably "hard-topped" (Figs.
124-125).10
124, 125 Grand foyer and auditorium of the Capitol theatre, Halifax,
Murray Brown, architect.
(Famous Players Limited.)
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The depression roughly coincided with the end of movie palace
building. Their short, spectacular reign was not so much affected
adversely by dwindling box office returns,11 as by the
disruption in normal ways of raising money and a depressed construction
industry.12 And it has been stressed that the construction of
movie palaces was affected by the demise of "combination vaudeville."
Vaudeville's coup de grâce was administered by the popularity of
the double feature in the late twenties.
By about 1933 the film industry was staggering under the depression
and nearly every major studio was in financial trouble. In midsummer of
1933 the Film Daily estimated that approximately 5,000 of 16,000
regularly operated theatres in the United States were closed, "'Deluxe'
houses which charged high prices and [had] heavy overhead were
particularly hard hit."13 The decline in movie patronage had
a number of causes: the depression had deepened, and the industry was
overcapitalized, overexpanded in distribution and overcompetitive in
exhibition. Another cause was the poor quality of many early sound
movies, which were largely exploited for their waning novelty
value.14
Canadian exhibition was similarly affected. Like American theatres,
their Canadian counterparts eventually lowered their prices. During the
depression years, the Ottawa Capitol's lowest scale of admission was
proffered in 1935 when matinee seats and "1,000 seats anytime" were 25
cents, the rest of the orchestra seats were 35 cents and children were
admitted for 10 cents. The depression did not close the house in 1931
(as a Journal article reported in May 1970). It was closed for
six weeks of extensive and expensive renovations. The Capitol rarely
resorted to give-away dishes, bingo and such gimmicks as adopted by
other theatres to attract patronage.
The theatres built for depression and post-depression audiences
reflected a new appreciation of popular taste by the exhibitors and the
architects they hired. The audiences of the period, it was felt, were
serious and sophisticated: their earlier exuberance and child-like awe
at the cascading grandeur of the movie palaces had been tempered by the
depression. In this "hard-bitten new maturity," they supposedly found
the old movie palaces vulgar, absurd, ostentatious and hopelessly
passé.15 Numerous arbiters of good taste had always found the
palaces ridiculous. They were not impressed with buildings devoted to
pleasing public taste and making money. They disliked the purely
derivative nature of movie palace architecture and were disturbed by the
melangé of architectural styles combined in one building. It seemed that
the palaces were built with reckless disregard for contemporary artistic
and architectural trends, and superimposed architectural styles foreign
to the western tradition.16
The new cinemas evinced a complete reaction to the escapist and
flamboyant movie palace era. Possibly, movie palace architects had run
the gamut of every conceivable monumental style and had no further to
go. Cinemas became resolutely "modern."
The few movie houses that were built in the mid-thirties bore a
tedious resemblance to the Hall of Transport and Travel at the Chicago
World's Fair. Suddenly everything was blue mirrors and chromium stair
rails; light fixtures were shards of jagged frosted glass, and cubism
was espoused by the carpetmakers.17
In the late 1930s and 1940s the new school of cinema architects
embraced functionalism, economy, and efficiency as the greatest virtues
in cinema design. Nothing should distract the patrons' interest from the
screen illusion: thus the auditorium should be a completely neutral
enclosure. Flat dust-proof surfaces took the place of three-dimensional
and painted ornament. Dramatic lighting was reduced to being functional
and non-distracting. These architects maintained that a movie theatre
should have no pretensions to look like anything else.18 The
austerity demanded almost constituted a reversion to nickelodeon
days.19
In the 1940s and 1950s, movie houses became plainer and, in general,
steadily smaller, and drive-in theatres, perhaps the ultimate in
plainness, proliferated, though they profited from capacities that were
inconceivable to movie palace architects. New theatres marked the exodus
of theatre patrons to the suburbs, the entertainment offered by small
suburban theatres became similar to that of a large downtown house,
and movie theatres were faced with strong competition from
television.
The death knell of the movie palaces was sounded. Ottawa's Capitol
survived until 1970 because, according to spokesmen for Famous Players
Canadian, the corporation had made a moral commitment to maintain it
until an adequate theatre for stage performances was built in the city.
Then the Capitol was deprived of the rentals which had constituted a
regular part of its revenue and it was demolished (Fig. 126). Like most
other palaces, it was "too big, too costly to maintain and... [had] just
outlived its purpose."20
126 July, 1970. The Ottawa Capitol in ruins.
(United Press International.)
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Some movie palaces have been converted by their owners into a number
of small auditoriums in order to make a profit on the site. For example,
the 2,150-seat Loew's Uptown in Toronto was converted into five cinemas
with a combined seating of 2,230. In 1964 it was announced that Famous
Players was "actively considering" the division of the Capitol into two
theatres, but this was not carried out.21
Famous Players estimated that it would cost at least $300,000 or
$400,000 to "modernize" the building. (These figures approach the
original stated construction cost.) To make "better use of the land,"
the company raised a 14-storey $10 million office building embracing
three new theatres.22
Ernest Callenbach wrote on the devastation of the San Francisco
Fox:
Confronted by an austere modern theatre, patrons hurry in and flit
away afterwards; there is none of the leisurely atmosphere that we once
thought of as part of the theatrical experience. By contrast the old
"Fox" crawled with life: in its gargoyles, in its shifting spaces, its
dramatic curtains, its impressive "mighty Wirlitzer," its intricate
lighting. "When you entered the rotunda of the old 'Roxy'" said its
founder and manager, Roxy, "you knew you were somewhere."
Today's theatres are like too many of today's airports and banks
and schools: they might be anywhere, hence give a curious impression of
being nowhere....Hard as it maybe to swallow, I submit that the "Fox"
had more taste than any of the new theatres...It had power and it had
coherent purpose, and hence it was worth looking at.23
So were all the palaces. They may have been overdone, fraudulent,
repetitious, barbarous, vulgar and structurally dishonest, and every
derogatory adjective applied to them, but they were fun, they were an
event to visit, and unlike modern cinemas, they elicited a strong
emotional response from their patrons. It is unlikely that the waves of
nostalgia that surround the demolition of a movie palace will be even a
ripple when a post-palace house is torn down.
The Ottawa Capitol closed amid much public sorrowing. Many people
collected souvenirs, mostly because they "loved" the theatre: pieces of
plaster and marble and brass railings, light fixtures, theatre seats and
even the box office. A gentleman wanted to buy one of its domes. At its
last performance the Capitol's patrons held hands and sang Auld Lang
Syne.
"Last performances" have become a characteristic movie palace event.
Some palaces manage to go out in a blaze of glory as their stages are
brought to life for the first time in years, as enough people are
attracted to rid the theatres of their mausoleum atmosphere, and as
patrons cast lingering glances at their decor and furnishings. In
another ten years, the Canadian movie palace may be extinct. Only a few
photographs, books and articles may be left to acquaint coming
generations with one of this century's most spectacular, immoderate and
preposterous architectural phenomena.
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