An Interpretation
Memories of the Strand
by Lawrence Herzog
When the Strand Theatre was demolished in 1979 brick by historic brick, a large chunk of my childhood went with it. My memories of going to the Strand are framed by recollections of the building itself and the moving pictures I saw there in the 1960s and '70s -- a shoot 'em up crime drama called the Seven-Ups with my father; Bambi with my grandmother and a dozen other mostly forgettable films with friends.
That was the start of my love affair with the Strand, but Edmonton's love affair goes back the days before the First World War. When it opened May 13, 1913, the Strand was called Pantages Vaudeville Theatre and billed as "the most northerly high class playhouse in North America." Some 1,500 Edmontonians turned out that night to see for themselves a venue where the Edmonton Bulletin reported "no expense has been spared."
The newspaper was right. Seattle theatre magnate Pericles (Alexander) Pantages spent $250,000 on the structure, at the corner of Jasper Avenue and 102 Street (where the IPL Tower is today). It was designed by 22- year-old wonder architect B. Marcus Priteca, who drew the plans for all of Pantages' North American theatres - from the first in San Francisco in 1911 to the last in Hollywood in 1930.
Like many others in the chain, the Edmonton design relied heavily on Italian Renaissance details: proscenium arch, delicately moulded carvings, ivory, gold and rose auditorium walls. From its facade clad with Bedford stone through an entrance finished with bevelled glass and the finest Italian and Grecian marble panels, patrons stepped into a theatrical and architectural wonderland.
The impact of this new experience helped stoke a theatre building frenzy. Even as Edmonton fell into a recession, lost countless lives in two world wars and struggled through an economic depression, theatre survived and prospered. Between 1910 and 1940, no less than a dozen ornately crafted theatres were built and opened in the city.
They were places history was composed and memories were made. And they were places with names that conjured images of fancy: The Dreamland, the Bijou, the Empire, the Gem, the Rialto, the Odeon, the Roxy, the Garneau.
Pericles Pantages, so the story goes, got some of the money for his first couple of theatres from Klondike Kate Rockwell. They met in the Yukon during the 1898 Gold Rush and, for a time, were romantically linked.
Early on, the Edmonton Pantages forged a reputation as one of the city's entertainment magnets. In its vaudeville days, the theatre hosted the Marx Brothers, Will Rogers and Buster Keaton, among other famous names. In 1921, it became the Metropolitan and began showing silent films. Talkies came and then, in 1929, when the economy collapsed, the theatre fell silent.
Undeterred, the Pantages reopened as the Strand in 1931 and proceeded to show movies for the next 48 years. The theatre had one last blast as a live venue in the late sixties and early seventies, when Walterdale Theatre Associates staged their Klondike Melodramas there for several summers. The old place went down with a fight in May, 1979.
As an appeasement that, in hindsight, now stings like a slap in the face, fragments of its ornate architectural detailing deemed significant were removed and crated away in boxes. Some of those baubles reside at the city's Artifact and Restoration Centre; some are apparently at Fort Edmonton Park.
But mostly, the Pantages -- like the Capitol, the Empire, the Rialto, the Empress, the Dreamland and countless other palaces of celluloid and theatrical wonder - have vanished. These were days Edmonton theatres were populated by a cast of characters -- on screen and off. They were run by people like Sam Binder, Marie Wright and Bert Wiber -- energetic, irascible and irreverent managers who emphasized the value of customer service and a certain degree of class and panache.
Theatre staff wore uniforms and, until the 1960's, no soft drinks were allowed in the auditoriums. Patrons who came late or during a feature were seated discreetly by ushers and could stay until the movie came round again to the same place.
The Empress closed in 1962 after a fire; the Capitol shut its doors in 1972; the Strand (Pantages) and Dreamland in 1979; the Rialto in 1987. The demise of most of Edmonton's grand movie houses makes survivors like the Princess and the Garneau all the more precious.
Vintage movie houses were the embodiment of magic in our lives. As heritage structures, they remind us of the wonder of our childhood, of the splendour of grand architecture and the value of classy entertainment. From marquees ablaze with a thousand lights to cavernous auditoriums adorned with ornate sculptures and exotic fabrics, they were places where we laughed and cried, places that left us in awe and places we loved.