Waving Goodbye, With Jazz Hands

From Dave Brigham:

I only went to Ryles Jazz Club once, because jazz isn't really my thing. But I liked the fact that the joint, located in Inman Square in Cambridge, Mass., was there. I suppose it's attitudes like mine that, in part, resulted in the venerable nightclub and restaurant closing its doors in the summer of 2018.

Opened in 1977 by Jack Reilly, who had run the rock club Jacks in Harvard Square, Ryles hosted jazz legends such as Pat Metheny, as well as students from Boston's Berklee College of Music and everyone in between. In 1994, Reilly sold the club to the Mitchell family that has owned and operated the S&S Deli across the street for 100 years. I enjoyed many a meal at the S&S back in the '90s. I saw former Secretary of Labor Robert Reich there once. Exciting, eh?

The Mitchell family decided to close the club after nearly a quarter century of ownership in order to focus on the S&S, according to this Eater Boston article. "The Ryles building was put up for sale with a deed restriction 'that prohibits the new owner from opening a restaurant, bar, gourmet food store or music venue,'" per the Eater article. The Mitchell family may sell the Ryles name, so it's conceivable that another club using that moniker could open one day.

Reilly died three years ago at age 98.

So what's become of the building since I took these pictures a while back?

The property, which was built in 1862, is undergoing renovations to add eight residential units within two new floors above the commercial space, per this Bldup web page.

Keep your eyes peeled for a more comprehensive post about this area of Cambridge, known as Inman Square, in the near future.

Seattle, Part IV: Pioneer Square

From Dave "Proto Grunge Rocker" Brigham:

This is the fourth post in a five-part series about Seattle, a beautiful and fun city I visited with my wife and kids back in April. This series is by no means meant to be an exhaustive survey of the Emerald City. It just features a lot of the stuff I saw while annoying my family by taking so many pictures. For links to the three previous installments, see the bottom of this post.

I saw this ghost sign on a building abutting the parking garage where I put our rental car, and I knew our tour of Pioneer Square was going to be a good one. I had only a rough idea what to expect in the square, which dates to 1852 and calls itself "Seattle’s original neighborhood." There are some Native Americans who might disagree on that title. We went to the square for Bill Speidel's Underground Tour, which was cool, but we had time to kick around the historic district, so we did and boy am I glad.

The Bank of California sign above was a gigantic advertisement for the Seattle outpost of the financial institution that was the first commercial bank in the Western United States. In 1996, the Bank of California merged with Union Bank; in 2008 it became a wholly owned subsidiary of Mitsubishi UFJ Financial Group, per Wikipedia.

Alright, I'm gonna run through the Square more or less in the order my family and I did it before we went underground. You might want to go to the bathroom before starting on this journey; it's gonna be a long one.

This stunner is known as the Good Arts Building. Situated on the corner of First Avenue and Cherry Street, this place was completed in 1890 and was known as the Scheuerman Block, per the building's web site. "It has been the home to department stores, a two-story diner ('Good Eats,' from which our name derives), a cigar store, a jazz club, a boxing gym, brothels, speakeasies, and the original office of Washington Mutual Savings Bank," per the web site. "In the nineteen-seventies the basement housed the first gay and lesbian community center in Seattle, followed by the Skid Road Theatre....In 2015, Good Arts LLC purchased the building with the mission of preserving its artistic heritage and affordability to creative enterprises."

This totem pole is so cool, and the kind of thing I just don't ever get to photograph around New England. In addition to being a stunning work of art, the Tlingit Indian Totem Pole has an interesting back story. "The Totem Pole first appeared in 1899, after members of the Chamber of Commerce, vacationing in Alaska, stole it from Tlingit Indians," per the PioneerSquare.org web site.

Wow, I wasn't expecting that bit of racist history. How the hell did they travel with that thing? Boat? Train?

What happened next, oh great and wonderful Internet?

"The men gave the object to the city as a gift, but the tribe justly sued for its return and $20,000 in damages. The courts found the men guilty of theft, but fined them only $500 and allowed the city to retain ownership. In 1938, the pieces that remained after vandals set the Totem Pole on fire were sent back to Alaska, where Tlingit craftsmen graciously carved a reproduction."

Why am I not surprised that the Native Americans were bigger men than the idiots from Seattle's Chamber of Commerce?

(Detail of the totem pole.)

Steps away from the totem pole is a statue of Chief Seattle.

A Native American, Seattle (or Sealth) was born in 1786 and died in 1866. "While known as 'Chief Seattle, there were in fact no hereditary chiefs among the Puget Sound tribes," according to this biography. "From time to time leaders arose who distinguished themselves by their actions or particular skills, and were respected and followed." Seattle, per the biography, wanted the natives and the white settlers to live in peace and harmony. As such, he worked with David Maynard, who is considered one of the founders of what became Seattle, to realize that goal. Obviously, some Native Americans at the time rejected this accommodation; others went along. Chief Seattle's legacy is therefore a bit complicated.

"Though many people see this cooperation as a lesser of two evils, some individuals have a different opinion," per this post on Indians.org. "Some have criticized Chief Seattle claiming he was cowardly and it cost the tribe their land and their way of life. However, the other Native Americans who chose to fight for their lands eventually lost."

A few more steps away from Chief Seattle's statue and the totem pole is the Iron Pergola, which sounds like a heavy metal band or a medieval torture device but it's actually neither.

Erected in 1909 as a stop for the Yesler and James Street Cable Car Company, the fancy shelter was "the most lavish of its kind west of the Mississippi with ornamental iron columns, wrought iron ornamentation and a large underground restroom," per the PioneerSquare.org web site. It was restored in 1972 and today serves as a place for tourists to hang out, and for homeless people to gather, as you can in the above photo.

The Lippy Building went up in 1902, built for T.S. Lippy, who made a fortune in the Klondike gold rush. I'm guessing the mosaic entryway below had been touched up more than once in the ensuing 117 years.

Too bad this building wasn't named for Zippy the Pinhead's square brother, Lippy.

The State Hotel doesn't exist anymore at this spot along 1st Avenue South, but somebody was smart enough to save and restore this fantastic neon sign. Not sure the history of the hotel.

You may be starting to understand just how excited I was for Pioneer Square, what with the beautifully restored old buildings, the funky statues, the neon signs and the ghost signs. Well, when I saw the building below, I about crapped my pants.

I've shot ghost signs all around Greater Boston (and will even be featured in an upcoming Boston Globe article about these advertising relics), but I've never seen anything as amazing as the Buttnick Building. I thought I was looking at a movie set. I'd never seen ghost signs that were so easy to read, and that featured multiple commercial products: Buttnick Manufacturing, Driftwood Sportswear and Paul Bunyon (not sure why the spelling is different than the lumberjack of folklore) Outerwear. The building dates to 1908 for the Brunswick Balke Collendar Company, which made billiard equipment.

By this point in our walk, I was lagging well behind my wife and kids. Often I wasn't even on the same side of the street as them as they wandered along, chatting, looking at their phones, whatever. But there was no way I was going to miss the opportunity to snap photos of as many of these fabulous places as I could.

The J&M Cafe & Cardroom dates to 1889 as a hotel, and as a bar to 1892, when it served the men of the Gold Rush. The ceiling is tin and the bar-back is made of Austrian mahogany, per the web site.

Walking through Pioneer Square, I felt like I was on a movie set. No more so than when I saw the Bread of Life Mission building.

Founded in 1939, the mission has been in this building since 1942. The charity offers "a bed, food clothing, and a safe environment for those who are in need. Bread of Life reaches beyond the physical needs by offering an opportunity to make a life-changing decision to accept Jesus Christ. Bread of Life is interdenominational and is supported entirely by individuals, churches, businesses, and foundations that believe in giving hope to Seattle’s homeless."

Built as a hotel in 1890, the building was once home to a brothel; the name "Matilda Winehill" just under the cross at the top of building refers to a former madam or prostitute, according to the mission's web site.

Built as a warehouse between 1903 and 1905, the Schwabacher Hardware Building is now home to, among other businesses, Flora and Henri, which offers bespoke products for children, women and home, per its web site.

The red brick building was once home to the Seattle Quilt Manufacturing Company, which was founded in 1915. The company was bought and sold a few times over the decades, and I believe its brands are now dead.

The Washington Shoe Building was built 1892 as the Washington Iron Works Building. It was remodeled, with the addition of two floors, in 1912. I'm not sure if the ghost sign across the top reads "DAGG DURNEDEN" OR "DAGO DURNEDEN." I've seen both interpretations online. Whatever it was called, the company manufactured "green hood shirts," which I assume are the same as hooded sweatshirts.

When I saw this, I assumed this was where our underground tour would begin or end, but I was wrong. I'm sure this stairway leads to something cool.

This is the former Occidental Park station for the George Benson Waterfront Streetcar Line. To answer your questions: no, not that George Benson; the line operated from 1982 to 2005 using vintage streetcars.

Located in Occidental Square, this sculpture depicts Tsonqua, a mythical giant from Northwest Indian lore. Created by Duane Pasco, the statue was displayed at the Kiana Lodge restaurant until 1985, per this Waymarking web page. In 1985 restaurant owner Richard White donated the totem to the City of Seattle. Pasco refinished the totems and they were placed in Occidental Square in 1987.

Located on the back of the previously mentioned Buttnick Manufacturing Building is this ghost sign for local favorite Rainier Beer.

A city has really made it when it has not one, but two (and possibly more) Schwabacher buildings. This one dates to 1884 and is just down the street from the previously mentioned one.

Upon its opening in 1914, Smith Tower featured 540 offices, six retail stores, two telegraph offices, and a public telephone station in the building, in addition to a thirty-fifth-floor observatory, per the building's web site. Today, Smith Tower is home to the famous observatory, thirty-fifth-floor bar, Legends of Smith Tower exhibits, ground-floor retail store, special events space, and office leasing.

Merchants Cafe calls itself Seattle's oldest bar. Established in 1890, the saloon also for a time featured a brothel upstairs for the local loggers and Gold Rush maniacs heading to and from Alaska.

With Merchants Cafe, we completed our circle and were back in front of the Pioneer Building, where we would shortly do our underground tour. While we waited, I noticed this amazing building, which served as a nice backdrop for an oversize chess set.

Now home to Magic Mouse Toys, this stunner of a building rose in 1891 as the Mutual Life Building.

The amazing Barney McCoy sign I saw as we left the underground tour stopped me in my tracks.

Located in the former Elgin Hotel/Traveler's Hotel building (circa 1913), McCoy's was a pre-Prohibition bar, according to this account I found online. The bar offered lunch, cigars and Olympia beer "in cartons."

Continuing our way toward the waterfront, I spied this cool pair of neon signs.

The Pioneer Square Hotel (a Best Western facility) dates to 1914; it was formerly the Hotel Yesler. I'm not sure if the signs are vintage.

Last, but not least, is this impressive old heap.

At its construction in 1893, this power plant was owned by the Seattle Steam Heat & Power Company. "The company was granted a franchise to lay pipes under city streets to provide steam and hot water for various uses," per this web site. Since 2014 the facility has been owned by Enwave Seattle, which uses renewable biomass as its primary fuel, per the company's web site.

OK, so that's (most of) Pioneer Square. Make sure to come back for the fifth and final installment of this Seattle series, which will cover the Lower Queen Anne neighborhood where my family and I stayed during our visit.

Here are links to the previous three installments:

Part III: Underground Tour

Part II: Discovery Park

Part I: Pike Place Market

A Peek Behind the Curtain of Boston's Vaudeville History

From Dave Brigham:

Like the vaudeville magicians who once entertained the masses in theaters along Tremont and Washington streets, this little building across from the Boston Common almost pulled off a coy illusion. But after a few peeks behind the curtain, I figured out the truth about its history.

I think.

Nearly inconspicuous, squeezed between two apartment towers, this odd sliver of Boston likely escapes most peoples' notice. As I walked along the Tremont Street side of the Boston Common, I stopped in my tracks when I saw this place. Why, I wondered, is this Lilliputian edifice wedged between two Goliath residence towers (sorry for the mixed literary references)? Tremont On the Common, located to the left of this little building, is a 26-story apartment and condo building finished in 1969. Studios here start at $420,000, and the prices go up to $650,000+ for two-bedroom condos. Grandview Boston, on the right, dates to 2004, and features one-bedroom units starting at $565,000 going up to three-bedroom condos starting at $1.7 million in its 18 floors of living.

My first thought was that this cute, white-washed building -- trying so hard to bolster itself against being crushed by its bigger and uglier siblings -- was a remnant of the times when Boston's Theater District was much bigger, brighter and bolder. Time was, the district was home to around 50 theaters, with tens of thousands of seats filled for musicals, dramas, comedy shows, movies and concerts. "Was this little place once part of a larger building?" I wondered.

I walked up to the building's clouded-glass doors, which were locked. There aren't any signs on the doors or the building, so I walked away determined to unlock this mystery.

On a subsequent visit to the area, I walked to the back of the building, on Mason Street. Again, no signs and no way in to this locked box.

Now I was really curious.

So first I dug into the history of Boston's Theater District, a search that led me to the city's ties to the vaudeville circuit of the late 19th century and first half of the 20th century.

The district once had three main thoroughfares: Tremont, Washington and Boylston streets. Boston's first theater opened in 1793, per Wikipedia. In 1900, the Boston Theater District had 31 theaters, with 50,000 seats. These days there are 10 theaters in this area, as well as others along Huntington Avenue.

Along Washington Street you'll see the Paramount Theatre, the Modern Theatre and the Boston Opera House, which opened in 1928 as a movie house, was rededicated in 1980 for an opera company, and was totally renovated in 2004 for ballet and touring Broadway shows.

(The Boston Opera House on Washington Street. There are similarities between this facade and the one along Tremont Street. There are reasons; they are explained below.)

Upon its opening in 1928, the Opera House was known as the B.F. Keith Memorial Theatre, according to this excellent history of the building from the theater's web site. It was built on the site of the demolished B.F. Keith's Boston Theatre.

"Designed in a combination of French and Italian styles by Thomas White Lamb, one of the foremost theatre architects of his day, it was erected under the close personal supervision of Edward Franklin Albee to memorialize his late partner, Benjamin Franklin Keith," per the web site. "Because it was constructed as a memorial and tribute to vaudeville’s greatest impresario, it was built with a degree of luxury in its appointments that is almost unrivaled."

I've been to this theater a few times in recent years and I can attest to the grandeur of the place.

Benjamin Franklin "B.F." Keith is considered a father of vaudeville, a type of theater popular from the 1880's to the 1930's featuring comedians, dancers, acrobats, magicians, puppeteers and other performers. From 1894-1925, B.F. Keith's Boston Theatre ran vaudeville shows primarily, alongside other theaters that Keith owned with his business partner, E.F. Albee. Keith died in 1914.

Still with me? Good, because here comes the relevant part.

Where was B.F. Keith's Theatre located? Between Tremont and Washington streets, with entrances on each street. And -- you guessed it -- the little building in the top photo is located approximately where the Tremont Street entryway was located. "....Keith and Albee built an entrance-building annex at 163 Tremont Street so that B. F. Keith's New Theatre could be advertised on, and approached directly from, Boston Common," per this Historic Structures blog post. "The new, narrow annex penetrated the block between Tremont and Mason streets and led by a tunnel beneath Mason Street into the B. F. Keith's New Theatre auditorium behind the boxes at the north side (stage left) of the proscenium."

Here's a picture of the Tremont Street entrance from 1906.

"Aha!" I thought. This "little building that could" might be all that's left of the entrance annex of the old B.F. Keith's Theatre.

Turns out, however, that entrance was torn down, I believe when the above-mentioned Tremont On the Common apartment building went up in the 1960's. I haven't found official confirmation that the developer was forced into recreating the former B.F. Keith entrance, but I did find mention of it on a web site called Jerry's Brokendown Palaces (a Grateful Dead reference). "[T]he Tremont Street lobby building had been recreated on the original site. Although not fancy like the 1895 original, it has a theatrical look. It is possible that the developers for that site were required to recreate the entrance, even though the Opera House no longer has access for audience members from Mason St." Read more and see old pictures at this link.

I have no idea what purpose this little reproduction gem serves now. I hope there are historic photos in there.

In 1965, long after vaudeville died out, the B.F. Keith Memorial Theatre was acquired by Sack Theatres, according to the Opera House web site. After a restoration effort, the building was renamed the Savoy Theatre. From 1973-1978 the theater was divided into two screening rooms and was known as the Savoy 1 & 2. In 1978 the Opera Company of Boston bought the theater and ran shows until hitting tough times and by 1991 the theater was closed yet again, per the Opera House web site.

"With the assistance of Boston Mayor Thomas Menino, Clear Channel obtained the necessary building permits in late 2002 and commenced work to completely renovate and restore the Citizen Bank Opera House on a very tight 18-month schedule," per the theater's web site. In June 2004 the grand palace opened yet again; in 2009 local businessmen David Mugar and Don Law acquired the theater, and it has remained a vibrant part of Boston's theater scene ever since.

For another story about an old theater district site, see May 25, 2018, "Backside of the Globe."

Seattle, Part III: Underground Tour

From Dave Brigham:

This is the third post in a five-part series about Seattle, a beautiful and fun city I visited with my wife and kids back in April. This series is by no means meant to be an exhaustive survey of the Emerald City. It just features a lot of the stuff I saw while annoying my family by taking so many pictures. For links to the two previous installments, see the bottom of this post.

You don't wanna know how many times I sang this song to myself during the course of my 75-minute subterranean jaunt in Seattle. While researching our family trip, I stumbled across Bill Speidel's Underground Tour and I was sold instantly by the web site's tag line: "It’s the only way to tour the interconnecting tunnels of the world-famous Seattle Underground - don't be fooled by impostors!"

I managed to convince my wife and kids to go on this tour, which was a victory in and of itself. We arrived in Pioneer Square a bit early (part four of this series will cover the amazing architecture, ghost signs and restored neon from this old section of the city), so we walked around for a while. I spied this staircase and hoped it would figure into our tour.

Spoiler alert: it didn't.

At the appointed time we gathered inside the amazing Pioneer Building, a "Richardsonian Romanesque stone, red brick, terra cotta, and cast iron building" that was completed in 1892, per Wikipedia.

This fantastic building, like so many others in Pioneer Square, was built after the Great Seattle Fire of 1889. The fire was started due to "an accidentally overturned glue pot in a carpentry shop," per Wikipedia, eventually torching 25 city blocks, including four wharves, the entire business district and its railroad terminals, sez Wikipedia.

While rebuilding the district, the city erected "retaining walls, eight feet or higher, on either side of the old streets, filled in the space between the walls, and paved over the fill to effectively raise the streets, making them one story higher than the old sidewalks that still ran alongside them," per the Underground Tour web site. Building owners, "eager to capitalize on an 1890s economic boom, quickly rebuilt on the old, low, muddy ground where they had been before, unmindful of the fact that their first floor display windows and lobbies soon would become basements. Eventually, sidewalks bridged the gap between the new streets and the second story of buildings, leaving hollow tunnels (as high as 35 feet in some places) between the old and new sidewalks, and creating the passageways of today’s Underground."

So after getting the tour spiel about how we should really, really, really go to the bathroom before going underground, these tunnels are where we started our exploration.

Our tour guide was a short fellow with a booming voice, a corny sense of humor and a great storytelling style. Unfortunately, all these months later I can't remember any of his best lines (or even his worst ones) but trust me he was a master of bad puns, exaggerated tales of woe and actual history (such as the story about how "seamstresses" -- aka working girls -- helped bring in enough money from loggers, sailors and other laborers that their madame was able to finance significant infrastructure that helped the city grow).

Unfortunately, I didn't get enough specific information about some of the things we saw. Or maybe I have just forgotten.

(Is this sign for the Northern Hotel vintage? Is this the original location of the sign?)

(Obviously, this sign for the South End Steam Baths wasn't around in the 1890s, or any time prior to the 1950s, I'm guessing. From what little I've found online, the steam baths were a gay hangout. Why is this sign just randomly placed along the underground tour?)

(This sign for "Sam's" looks like it was pretty cool in its heyday, which, again was probably in the latter half of the 20th century. Why is it down here? What was it for? A restaurant? Nightclub? Ice cream parlor?)

(This is a teller's cage. I assume this sign was from a bank, but again I wonder: is this vintage? It just looks like something some guy made back in the 1970s in high school shop class.)

(The Oriental Hotel was evidently popular with the above-referenced "seamstresses" of Pioneer Square, according to this post from The Ghost in My Machine blog. I'll assume the sign is real, although the paneling on the walls looks suspiciously like my family's rec room from the 1970s.)

(These pavement lights are real. We walked over them on the sidewalk above before and during the tour and I wondered what the heck they were. As our wacky guide explained, these glass tiles were one way of bringing light into the underground when businesses were active under there.)

(I don't recall what our guide said this massive wooden case was used for. Storing food or beer or whips & chains for the seamstresses, I suppose.)

(Where did this plush circular banquette come from? Why has it been thrown randomly into the underground? Did any famous people ever sit on it? Did the seamstresses do some of their "work" here?)

(I hate to keep harping on this, but what's the story with these sinks? How old are they? Where did they come from? Does Restoration Hardware sell reproductions?)

Here are the links to the previous two posts: September 10, 2019, "Seattle, Part II: Discovery Park," and September 1, 2019, "Seattle, Part I: Pike Place Market."

Make sure to come back soon for the fourth part of this series, which will cover the aboveground portion of Pioneer Square.

Seattle, Part II: Discovery Park

From Dave Brigham:

This is the second post in a five-part series about Seattle, a beautiful and fun city I visited with my wife and kids back in April. This series is by no means meant to be an exhaustive survey of the Emerald City. It just features a lot of the stuff I saw while annoying my family by taking so many pictures. For a link to the previous installment, see the bottom of this post.

I had no idea what to expect when my family and I visited Discovery Park, a 534-acre sprawl, most of which was home to the Fort Lawton Army base from the 1890s to the 1970s. I figured we'd hike around a bit while taking in some nice views of Puget Sound from this western-most point of the Emerald City, and maybe see an odd remnant or two of military housing or gear.

I certainly wasn't expecting to see a church.

Or a radar installation.

The radar system was formerly part of a Nike missile installation, according to this SeattlePI blog post. During the Cold War, Nike missile sites covered the entire country, in an effort to protect the nation from potential Russian aircraft attacks. Per the SeattlePI blog post, the Nike air defense system was separate from the Fort Lawton base. I guess that's true, even though it's so close to the church, as well as a row of former officer housing, and the building in the photos at the bottom of this post.

For more about Nike missile sites, see January 6, 2018, "Look, Up in the Sky! It's a Bird! It's a Goddess of Victory! It's a Nike Missile!".

The City of Seattle acquired the acreage in 1972; in 1977 the United Indians of All Tribes opened the Daybreak Star Indian Cultural Center on part of the site. For a timeline of the fort and the park, check out this City of Seattle web page.

My family and I explored only a small portion of Discovery Park, which was named "in honor of the British sloop HMS Discovery, commanded by Captain George Vancouver during the first European exploration of Puget Sound in 1792," per the City of Seattle web site. We got our first view of Mount Rainier from the park, as we walked along Puget Sound, as the iconic mountain was socked in by clouds during most of our visit. We also watched from afar as a wedding was under way.

Below are a few photos of the former Army base gymnasium.

In June of this year, the Seattle City Council approved a plan to build affordable housing on part of the site. That plan had been in the works for more than a decade, but city efforts were hampered by lawsuits.

The third installment in my Seattle series will focus on the very cool underground tour we took in Pioneer Square. If you missed it, be sure to check out the first post, from September 1, "Seattle, Part I: Pike Place Market."