An Interpretation

Signs of Another Time
by Lawrence Herzog

Drive around the heart of Edmonton, and you'll see them. Worn by time, pounded by the elements but still clinging to the bricks or concrete on which they were painted so many years ago, they are the signs from a vanished and often forgotten time.

Early this century, painted signs were a big part of advertising in our city. Buildings with a wall large enough for a sign and with good visibility were always in demand by sign companies.

"Those signs gave us a sense of place," notes city archivist Bruce Ibsen. "If you ask most people where the Shaw building is located, they won't be able to tell you, but if you ask them about the building with the Nabob sign, they'll know exactly what building you mean."

From coffee to cafes, nylons to groceries, soup to nuts, painted signs reached out earnestly with their message. Companies like Hook Signs employed painters that specialized in creating signs on the sides of buildings.

"They were called 'Walldogs'," explains Chris Hamill, creative director for the Pattison Outdoor Group, formerly Hook Outdoor Advertising. "Unfortunately, they are a dying breed and the signs themselves are fading away and nobody's doing anything about it. It's kind of tragic."

The earliest signs were painted right on the wood siding of frame buildings, like M. Rosenberg General Merchant, a little store on 95 th Street. A photo from the Hook Signs collection at the City of Edmonton Archives, taken in the early years this century, shows a painted sign for Magic Baking Powder that sprawled over the entire north wall of the building.

As brick gained popularity as a facing material, signage became more prominent. In the first half of this century, billboards and painted signs shared the market.

One image from the Hook Signs collection shows a billboard next to the Shasta Apartments and a sign painted on the building itself, advertising Agnew's Drug Store. "Candy, Prescription, Toilet Articles, Sundries, Tobacco and Films" it proclaims, in a design ingeniously fit around third-storey windows.

That building is long gone, but a few other painted signs still survive. Here are some of my favourites:

Shaw Building, 10229 105 Street
When I was a kid and we used to drive by this building, I would always look for the Nabob coffee sign.

It meant that, as we headed north on 105 th Street, we'd soon be coming to the giant overpass and the view down along the railway tracks. That Nabob sign is still there, along with others for Crown corn syrup and National Biscuit and Confection.

Gibson Block, 9604 Jasper Avenue
In the 1920s, the west wall of the Gibson Block was covered with painted signs, including one for the Gibson Café that noted the establishment employed "White Help Only." In the politically correct 1990s, the sign was deemed inappropriate and, when the building was restored in five years ago, the faded sign was painted over. A tragedy really because, politically correct or not, it was still a part of our history. We should view such artifacts as a teaching opportunity rather than a shameful chapter from the past.

Birks Building, 10113 104 Street
Nearly hidden now by higher buildings, this little gem of a sign can be found on the east facing wall. The Birks sign features a diamond that actually protrudes from the brick. You might remember the building was home to another historic sign for much of this century - the rooftop CJCA tiger. I don't know what ever happened to that great piece of our history.

Those are a few examples from around the city, but if you look, I'm certain you will find many more. It's estimated that, at its peak, Edmonton boasted a collection of painted signs that easily topped 100. But it wasn't just the quality that make our painted signs significant.

"It's amazing that, for a backwater kind of place early this century, the quality of signage was as good as anything anywhere," Hamill observes. "This was something that gave Edmonton a sense of place, a sense of pride."

These signs from another time are indeed part of our heritage. They should be preserved and cherished just like the buildings they adorn, but unfortunately there is no mechanism in place to do that. They have survived only by luck and, in some cases, the heartfelt appreciation of owners.

Other North American cities have established policies to protect their painted sign heritage. We should do the same, while there's still something left to save.