An Arts & Crafts Surprise -- No. 6 West 24th Street

Restoration of the street level was underway in 2014.

In the years just prior to the outbreak of the Civil War, elegant mansions rose along Fifth Avenue north of 23^rd Street.  Madison Square had been officially completed on May 10, 1847 and quickly high-end homes began surrounding the park.  On August 23, 1859 developer Amos Eno opened his lavish Fifth Avenue Hotel at the northwest corner of Fifth Avenue and 23^rd Street.

About this same time Phillips Phoenix had his wide, two-story private stable constructed directly behind the hotel at No. 6 West 24^th Street.  Wealthy and a touch flamboyant, Phoenix was well-known in society.  His keen ability to sense financial opportunity and his willingness to adapt would serve him well as the exclusive residential neighborhood was taken over by commercial interests following the war.

By 1879 23^rd Street was seeing the first hints of the entertainment district which would transform it by the end of the century.  That year Phillips Phoenix joined with Amos Eno to erect the Madison Square Theatre at No. 4 West 24^th Street, abutting the stable.  He also commissioned the architectural firm of Kimball & Wisedell to convert the stable, adding a third story.  Instead of horses and carriages, the building now housed theater offices and dressing rooms for the thespians.  One year later the architects obliterated the utilitarian roots of the structure by designing a commercial façade.

The former stable (right) had received an additional floor when this photo was published in 1893.  A Trip To Chinatown, which was playing at the time, would run for over 700 performances.  Kings Views of New York City 1893 (copyright expired)

Sharing space in the 25-foot wide building, at least for one year in 1882, was the publishing firm of G. P. Putnam & Sons.   In the meantime, Phillips Phoenix enjoyed his wealth and social status, maintaining a country home in Tuxedo.   It was there on December 3, 1886 that Phoenix took possession of his new 31-foot ice yacht “to be used this Winter on Tuxedo Lake,” reported The New York Times.

Kimball & Wisedell's new facade for No. 6 can be seen at the far right of this postcard.

Built in Poughkeepsie by ice yacht builder Jacob Buckhout, it was constructed of oak and mahogany with spruce spars.  The Times deemed it “one of the handsomest yachts ever sent out of Mr. Buckhout’s shop.”

Starting around 1891 the Madison Square Theatre was operated by playwright Charles H. Hoyt and manager Frank McKee, known professionally as Hoyt & McKee.  In January 1894 the pair happily announced “that they have succeeded in renewing their lease of the Madison Square Theatre for a term of nine years, beginning the 1^st of October.  From that time the theatre will be leased directly from the owners, Amos R. Eno and Phillips Phoenix.”

The ornate auditorium of the Madison Square Theatre was depicted in an 1886 program. (copyright expired)

Charles Hoyt told reporters “The theatre will be kept open until the 1^st of October.  The theatre will be closed for a thorough overhauling.  I shall spend a large amount of money in refitting it.  I expect to make it as handsome as any theatre in New-York.”

Hoyt’s plans hit a snag, though.  Two months later The New York Times announced “Hoyt and McKee have decided to close their season at the Madison Square Theatre March 31.”  Hoyt’s hit A Trip to Chinatown had already run for 700 performances and the house was still packed.  But the duo could make more money putting the show on the road than keeping it in New York.  And they did not yet have a “proper class of attraction” to replace it. 

“This will be the first time the pretty little theatre has been closed to the Hoyt plays since Hoyt and Thomas assumed the management,” noted The Times on March 19, 1894.

Within only a few years the theater district would move northward to Longacre Square, later renamed Times Square.    The Madison Square Theatre hung on; but as early as 1903 was renting space to at least one small business, S. B. Goodale & Son real estate, in No. 6 West 24^th Street.  In 1906 Walter N. Lawrence ran the theater and that year he paid the $500 fee for a one-year amusement license.  The license covered both No. 4 and No. 6 West 24^th Street.

But the days of light theater here were quickly drawing to an end.   In 1909 the aging Phillip Phoenix, always willing to adapt to changing times and neighborhoods, commissioned the well-known architects Maynicke & Franke to renovate No. 6 into a restaurant with an apartment on the top floor.

The architects turned to the Arts & Crafts style which rejected the busy, over-decorated designs of the Victorian era.  More visible in suburban residential structures, the Arts & Crafts style arrived on West 24^th Street as a delightful surprise.

The gape-mouthed lions' heads originally held the supports of a canopy.

Brick side piers with recessed panels rose to a deeply overhanging cornice supported by truss-like brackets.  They embraced a cast metal façade enhanced by plain, geometric recessed panels.  The openings, three to a floor, were nearly floor-to-ceiling and flooded both the upstairs apartment and the second floor dining room with daylight.  Two snarling lion heads originally upheld a marquee or canopy that sheltered patrons from direct sunlight or bad weather.

William H. Lubold’s restaurant took over the two lower floors.  Variously listed as “Lubold’s Café & Restaurant” and “Barbers Café & Grill” over the years, it was a favorite luncheon destination for the businessmen now working in the bustling Madison Square neighborhood. 

The second floor dining room was rented out for special parties and groups.  One of these was the Lumbermen’s Club.  The club called itself “strictly a dining and social organization.”  Dues were $50 a year for New Yorkers and $20 for non-residents--rather steep $100 per month expense for the city dwellers by today’s standards.  Although supposedly social, officers admitted that the club helped men in the lumber industry “meet and transact business.”

Although the Lumbermen’s Club moved to the nearby Hoffman House Hotel a year later, other organizations made ample use of the dining room in Lubold’s.   On March 16, 1918 the New-York Tribune reported on the first anniversary celebration of the Erie Club held here.

Founded in 1917 out of a rather odd concept, it was formed “by New Yorkers who came here from that bustling little Pennsylvania city,” explained the Tribune.   “The club meets on the first Saturday of each month.  The next meeting is to be known as ‘Ladies Night,’ and the club wants as many Erie girls as it can locate to be present.”

William Lubold died in July 1920 “quite suddenly…from diabetes.”  His obituary noted “The restaurant was patronized quite extensively by members of the trade in the Fifth Avenue Building and that vicinity, all of whom will regret to learn of Bill Lubold’s passing.”  The article mentioned that the business would be continued by Lubold’s sons, Howard and Wilbur.

The remarkable little building continue to house a restaurant on the first floor throughout the rest of the century.  In the 1970s the two upper floors were used as a photo studio.   A some point the street level was obliterated through misguided modernization.

Somewhat surprisingly, a 2013 renovation resulted in the sympathetic reconstruction of the lost architectural details of the first floor.   A restaurant continues to operate here.  The Arts & Crafts building with its long and varied past, nearly lost among the tall loft buildings on the block, is a delightful architectural surprise.

photographs by the author

The Lost 1882 Casino Theatre -- 39th Street and Broadway

Postcard from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York  http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

In 1882 New York City’s entertainment and theater district was firmly rooted along 23^rd Street.  But that year Rudolph Aronson made a daring and risky move.  He built a grandiose theater sixteen blocks to the north—far too remote to be successful, according to common opinion.

Aronson, who was a prolific composer, had been the manager of the Metropolitan Concert Hall.  Now he sought to create a venue for mostly light musicals and operetta.   He convinced influential Manhattan businessmen—among them Jay Gould, Louis C. Tiffany, Cornelius Vanderbilt and J. P. Morgan—to finance the precarious project.   Architects Francis Kimball and Thomas Wisedell were given the commission to design the uptown theater.  And if the location did not draw patrons, the architecture certainly did.

The fantastic structure sat at the southeast corner of Broadway and 39^th Street and was called by some “the best example of Moorish architecture in the country.”  The description was a bit overstated, but the brick and terra cotta building was indeed eye-catching.

In 1896, when this photograph was taken, the roof garden had been added -- Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York, http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

Horseshoe arches, arcades and a soaring corner tower combined to make the theater unlike any other of the time.  The architects compounded the Moorish theme inside with brilliant metallic colors, a jewel-laced velvet stage curtain, boxes encrusted with carved arabesque patterns, and an intricate auditorium ceiling of fans, arches and filigree details.

The ornate plasterwork was studded with artificial jewels -- Byron Company, photo from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York, http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

Aronson’s forward thinking resulted in firsts for New Yorkers.  The 1,300 seat theater would become the first in to be lit by electricity.  It boasted an attractive café; it too smothered in Moorish detailing.

Opening night was on October 21, 1882 with the Strauss operetta Queen’s Lace Handkerchief.    Unfortunately, it was a stormy night and construction had not been completed.  Well-dressed patrons sat below a dripping ceiling.  Despite the less-its less than perfect debut, the theater endured.

Fancy wicker furniture (albeit non-matching) furnished the orchestra boxes.  An electric fan provided air circulation -- Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

Aronson’s initial productions were lavish adaptations of European and British comic operas.   The gamble paid off.  Later The New York Times would remark that “The Casino became the recognized home of light and comic opera in New York.”  Aronson scored tremendous hits with Nell Gwynn and the enormously successful Erminie which ran some 1,200 performances.

The Moorish motif spread into the cafe -- Byron Company, p hoto from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York  http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

Throughout the years the Casino would be responsible for the stardom of entertainers like Lillian Russell, De Wolf Hopper, Jefferson De Angelis, Marie Dressler and Francis Wilson.  In 1890 Aronson introduced another first—the first roof garden in the country.  The breeze-cooled roof venue meant that Aronson could operate year-round.

The roof garden audience stands to get a glimpse of the performance -- photo by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

That same year unknown Italian composer Pietro Mascagni took Rome by storm when his Cavalleria Rusticana won a competition staged by publisher Edoardo Sonzogno.  The one-act opera premiered on May 17, 1890 in the Teatro Costanzi and was a phenomenal triumph.  It was just the sort of production Aronson looked for.

photo by Bryan Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

On October 1, 1891 The Casino premiered Cavalleria Rusticana in America with a matinee performance.  That evening Oscar Hammerstein opened his house with a production of the same opera.  It created what The New York Times would gently describe as “a famous incident.”

The mosaic floor of the lobby imitated an Oriental carpet -- Kurtz Brothers, photo from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

In 1894 came another first.  The Passing Show was the first American revue.  Then four years later the roof garden staged the premier of The Origin of the Cake Walk; or Clorindy.  It was the first African-American musical to be presented before a white audience.

The Casino would break ground again in 1899 when it staged the English musical Floradora.  It introduced the chorus line to America and became one of the most famous productions in Broadway history.  The “Floradora Girls” ignited the trend of chorus girl revues that lasted throughout the 20^th century.

Floradora would become on of Broadway's greatest hits -- Byron Company, photo from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

So popular was the beautiful chorus line that a musical, The Casino Girl, was written in 1900, based on the fictitious exploits of one of the girls.

Early in February that year the curtain caught fire from the footlights during a performance.  One patron described the scene.  “The house was packed, with seats all full and hundreds standing in the rear.  As the flames spread and crackled it was almost beyond human sense to hope for safety.” 

Cool heads prevailed however.  “The men on the stage acted with the utmost coolness, and must have credit for their share in averting a calamity, but their bravery would have availed little had not their efforts been seconded by the people on the floor.  At the first sign of fire men in all parts of the house stood up on the seats and urged the people to keep cool and not stampede.

“Women, more excitable, as a rule, attempted to make their way to the rear, but men stood in the aisles and prevented a stampede and panic  It was a spectacle to make every one proud of our American type of manhood.”

Disaster was averted; but five years later the theater, now managed by the Shubert organization, would be less lucky.  On February 12, 1905 The New York Times reported that “Broadway between Herald Square and Times Square was thrown into wild excitement shortly after noon yesterday by a fire in the Casino Theatre, where Lillian Russell has been playing in ‘Lady Teazle.’”

Over one hundred chorus girls were in the house rehearsing, but everyone escaped unharmed.  The theater itself did not fare as well.   Stage hands scrambled to rescue props and expensive sets.

“Seldom has Thirty-ninth Street witnessed such a scene,” said The Times.  “Out of the stage entrance came a line of men, bearing everything, from pink silk slippers to bulky scenery…There were the ancestral portraits which Charles Surface auctions off  in the play and silk goods of every hue.  There were beflowered skirts and powdered wigs, decanters, ribbons, and petticoats, picture hats—and everything else that has any part in the setting of ‘Lady Teazle.’”

Although the magnificent auditorium was not threatened by the fire, it was heavily damaged by water.  “After the firemen turned off their hose it was more like a swimming pool than a theatre,” said the newspaper.  “The red plush seats had become red sponges, the marble floors were three or four inches deep in water, and streams fell from the ceiling to add to the flood.”

The serious damage prompted Fire Chief Croker to tell reporters that “the fire would lead to certain alterations that the Fire Department had long demanded.”  Lillian Russell looked on the bright side.

“Just think of what it would have been two hours later.  Personally, I consider that I got off very light.  Not only was I not in the fire, but my costumes, valued at about $5,000, were all saved. Lillian Spencer, a girl who played with me thirteen years ago, got them out of my dressing room.”

The building was closely examined by the fire department and the main structure was deemed “absolutely perfect.”   Nevertheless it would be ten full months before the renovated theater reopened. 

Over the next two decades the Casino would stage memorable performances like Vagabond King in 1925 and Desert Song the following year.  It was also the highly-anticipated scene every year of the Kiddie Klub Christmas performance.  The management donated the use of theater for free Christmas presentations for New York children. 

The operators of the Kiddie Klub understandably desired to maintain good favor with the Casino.  On December 12, 1922 it reminded its little club members that “There are one or two ways in which we can show our gratitude to Messrs. Shubert for having given us their fine, big playhouse.  The first is to be very quiet and well behaved, another is to keep the theatre clean.”

Ironically, by the time of the Great Depression, the Casino Theatre was again in a remote neighborhood from the entertainment district.  On January 4, 1930 The Times reported that “The Casino, once the furthest north of the uptown playhouses, has seen the theatrical district march by it, until now, with the passing of the Knickerbocker, only the Garrick, of the so-called Broadway theatres, remains below it.”

The theater, which the newspaper said “has housed some of the biggest musical comedy successes of the American theatre,” was doomed.  “Lee Shubert said yesterday that he understood the theatre would be torn down and a large commercial structure erected on its site.”

photo by Bryon Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915#/SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UP1G3M68RH&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915&PN=1

Two weeks later the final performance was held.  The Times reported “With a performance by the American Opera Company of ‘Faust’ last night at the Casino Theatre, the career of that house was brought to a close after almost fifty years in which it had been devoted principally to musical productions.”

In place of the Casino Theatre rose a soaring modern office building.  Before long the theater that introduced the roof garden, the chorus line, African-American casts and electrically-lit theaters to American audiences was forgotten.

photo by the author