On September 17, 1904 the Real Estate Record & Builders’
Guide noted that the Colonial Theatre at Broadway and 62nd Street,
was under construction. It was architect
George Keister’s first endeavor at theater design; and the first step in what
would become a specialty for him.
Simultaneously, the Yorkville Theatre was rising on three 86th
Street plots—Nos. 157 through 161--commissioned by developer brothers Arlington
C. and Harvey M. Hall. The ornamental
ironwork for the ground level front and interior spaces was executed by Harris
H. Uris, at the time the preeminent ironworker in the city. Although owned by the Halls, the Yorkville
Theatre project (as well as the Colonial) was the brainchild of Meyer R.
Bimberg; who closely supervised its interior design. He would eventually be responsible for five
Manhattan theaters.
The 42-year old Bimberg had made his fortune in a most
unusual way. During the 1896 St. Louis
political convention, he came up with the idea of picturing the candidates on
tin buttons. Hearing that McKinley and
Hobart would get the nomination, he had 100,000 buttons made—the first
political campaign buttons in history.
When Theodore Roosevelt returned from the Spanish-American
War and was urged to run for Governor, Bimberg took a gamble and made up
thousands of buttons depicting Roosevelt in his Rough Rider outfit, with the
slogan “Our Choice for Governor.” He
gave the first to Roosevelt. Then,
according to The New York Times later, “They went like hot cakes.” Bimberg earned the nickname “Bim the Button
Man.”
The Yorkville Theatre was completed just in time for the
season of 1904-05. It opened on October
3, 1904 with Henrietta Crosman in Sweet
Kitty Bellairs. The New-York Tribune
said Henrietta was “as charming as ever” and commented “The maiden performance
of the new theatre drew an enthusiastic crowd, and throngs packed the sidewalk
and street long before the doors opened.”
Theater goers filed into an auditorium capable of seating
1,372. There were six boxes and two
balconies. The Tribune called the façade
“colonial” and said “its interior is ivory white, gold and pale blue. The seats and carpets are a bright red. The chief decorative feature is a group of
five large panels over the arch, representing, respectively, Comedy and Tragedy
at the extreme sides, while in the centre is a reproduction of Sir Joshua
Reynolds’s picture representing Mrs. Siddons as the Tragic Muse. On either side of this centre panel are two Shakespearean
scenes.”
The newspaper’s description of the façade as “colonial” was
a stretch. Keister clad the building in
sandy-brown brick, trimmed in white terra cotta. The angled piers which rose from the marquee
level to the top floor were capped by Art Nouveau female busts influenced by
the Vienna Succession movement. The center
figure, which rose into the peaked parapet, was backed by an explosive fan—an unintentional
foreshadowing of the overblown headdresses of Follies girls of the years to
come.
The New York Times called the opening “a great occasion for
Yorkville and a greater for Bimberg. The
old residents of the neighborhood blossomed out in all the glory of first
nighters to such an extent that standing room was sold out long before the
curtain rose. “Bim’ made a speech at the
end of the third act.”
Bimberg told the audience “The old-timers in Yorkville have
been talking about a theatre for forty years and I’m proud and pleased to have
given ‘em one they needn’t be ashamed of.”
The Times was pleased.
“The decorations are extremely pleasing, and the temperature is
regulated and fresh air supplied by the latest mechanical devices.”
Like the opening production which had earlier played at the
Belasco Theatre, Bimberg’s initial offerings would be restagings of shows that
had opened elsewhere and proved successful.
Such was the case, for instance when the Tribune announced that Miss
Percy Haswell and Robert T. Haines would appear in The Darling of the Gods for
one week only. The newspaper noted they
would perform with “a company of the same proportions as characterized the
original Metropolitan production.”
And on January 22, 1905 the Tribune announced that Henrietta
Crosman “and her associates” would revive Sweet Kitty Bellairs for a week. The article pointed out “Special attention is
called to the fact that the best seats will best sold for $1.50.” It was a substantial admission price—equal to
more than $40 in 2016.
A week later a young man shocked New Yorkers (and his
father) by choosing the stage as his career.
Young Harry Carey had graduated from New York University where he
studied law. He was the son of former
Judge Henry D. Carey and on February 1, 1905 the New-York Tribune noted “It was
expected that young Carey would begin the practice of law to-day.”
Instead, he had secretly been rehearsing his part in When
Knighthood Was in Flower at the Yorkville Theatre for several weeks. The Tribune reported “it was only on Sunday
that his father discovered it. He was at
first displeased, but later gave his consent.”
Not only did Harry Carey succeed in his stage debut at the
Yorkville Theatre; he went on to be one of America’s most famous actors.
Bimberg scored a theatrical coup when he introduced a new
production in 1905 starring the popular actress Odette Tyler. The Times reported on March 12 “To-morrow night, and for the first time on
any stage, Odette Tyler’s new Du Barry play, ‘The Red Carnation,’ will be
presented at the Yorkville Theatre. Miss Tyler will appear in the principal
role, and this will mark her reappearance on the New York stage in the
legitimate drama.”
Odette Tyler -- from the collection of the New York Public Library |
In March 1908 Meyer R. Bimberg was stricken with tonsillitis. He refused medical attention, and when his
condition worsened a few days later, he took to his bed. He told the family “Do not disturb me until I
awaken. I feel as though I would like to
sleep.” He never woke up. The 46-year old button-man and theater
builder died in his sleep on March 25, 1908.
Bimberg’s death would take a substantial toll on the
Yorkville Theatre. A little over a year later, on October 1, 1909,
the New-York Tribune reported that Bimberg’s estate was foreclosing on the
$40,000 mortgage held by the Hall brothers.
Mildred Holland's (center) appearance here in A Royal Scandal in January 1909 was among the last of the legitimate dramas. The Theatre, January 1909 (copyright expired) |
The estate wasted no time in leasing the theater. Just two weeks later it was announced that
the International Vaudeville Co. had signed a five-year lease at $25,000 per
year. Meyer Bimberg’s offering of
high-class theatrical productions gave way to a more pedestrian
entertainment. Admission prices dropped
dramatically to 5 and 10 cents. The
Tribune noted that “vaudeville and pictures” would make up the attractions.
Moving pictures had firmly taken hold by now, threatening
live entertainment. While the
International Vaudeville Co. held the lease, The New York Times reported “The
Yorkville Theatre will become a motion-picture house next week, under the
management of Marcus Lowe.” Lowe would
find the venue so successful that in 1914 he erected a more opulent motion
picture theatre across the street, the Orpheum.
But in the meantime motion pictures and vaudeville shared the stage at
the Yorkville.
Vaudeville entertainments were wildly popular for the
variety of acts—jugglers, singers, comedians and animal acts among them. On December 17, 1914 things went horribly
wrong at the Yorkville Theatre. The
auditorium was filled with more than 1,000 men, women and children who thrilled
at the lion act of Madame Marie Andree.
The petite and beautiful lion tamer put her six lionesses through their
paces to the amazement of the audience.
When the curtain lowered, a quartet, The Four Harts, came on
stage to sing “Follow the Crowd.” Behind
the curtain Marie Andree supervised her staff as they herded the animals into
their “shifting den,” a light-weight cage used to transport them from the stage
to permanent cages.
Marie Andree poses with her lionesses. At the lower left is Sgt. Daniel Glenn, who was shot in the incident -- New-York Tribune December 18, 1914 (copyright expired) |
But, as reported in the New-York Tribune the following day, “Instead
of marching sedately in single file to the gate, the six lionesses, Belle,
Alice, Queen, Grace, Lady and Lina, made a concerted rush. In the scramble to get out of the narrow
gateway, the shifting den was upset.”
One lioness, Alice, found an opening in the curtain and
walked onto the stage. “Those in the
audience who noticed the cringing yellow beast as it stole forward toward the
centre of the stage took it for part of the performance, and held their breath
in delicious horror.”
When the Four Harts noticed the carnivore, they found the
situation less delicious. When they
started off the stage, a police detective ordered “For God’s sake, go back
there and sing!” And they did.
But when one of Marie Andree’s workers came on stage with a
whip and tried to induce the lioness backstage, the audience realized their
danger. Panic ensued and 1,000 patrons
tried to get through the exits at once.
The chaos aroused the lionesses, who struck out in several directions,
several heading directly into the audience. One man exhibited his bravery simply by
playing dead.
“Mark McDermott, of 511 East 84th st., saw
[Alice] coming. She was headed straight
for him and was but a few seats away.
McDermott had heard that the thing to do when you couldn’t run away from
a lion was to play ‘possum. He lay flat
on the floor. In another instant one of
Alice’s paws raked the side of his head as she stepped over him.”
In the end, the one lioness who escaped the theater was
killed by policemen. The others were
recaptured. Among the injured was
Sergeant Daniel Glenn, who took a bullet in the back during the affray with the
escaped beast; and a 10-year old girl who was knocked down by a lion. The Tribune reported “Twoscore women, who
sought refuge in the women’s dressing room of the theatre, were rescued by
firemen with ladders while policemen and trainers were corralling the five
lions which roamed the deserted theatre.”
The following year the Yorkville Theatre received another
make-over. The New York Times reported
on August 8, 1915 that “after completed alterations [it] will open next
Saturday evening as a burlesque theatre, with two performances a day and a new
program each week.” The opening
production was Frank Calder’s The High-Life Girls.
The following week the Evening World explained that The
High-Life Girls was “two one-act burlesques, ‘A Country Vacation’ and ‘At the
Pekin Cabaret.’” The newspaper opined “The
favor with which the performance was received indicates a successful career for
the Yorkville under the new order of things.”
The burlesque offerings were far different from Bimberg’s
vision. Later that month Parisian Flirts
was staged, with Charlie Robinson featured “in comedy characterizations.” Eight months later Florenz Ziegfeld sued the
theater for advertising The Follies of 1916.
The Times reported on April 20, 1916 “Mr. Ziegfeld at once instituted
proceedings to protect his title, which is copyrighted.”
By now Yorkville was the center of New York’s German
population. Many of the productions
staged at the Yorkville Theatre were presented in German. But even in German, burlesque acts sometimes
stepped over the line of Edwardian decency.
Mizi Gizi was a popular actress of the German stage and she
was scheduled to appear in “a program of German playlets” here on May 23,
1916. The Times reported the following
morning that theatergoers were “disappointed because there was no performance.” The newspaper explained that the “Police
Department…notified the theatre management after last Saturday night’s performance
that two of the playlets on the bill would have to be toned down before they
could be given again.” According to Police Commissioner Woods, he had received “complaints
as to the alleged improper nature of some of the playlets offered.”
Mizi Gizi was back on stage on October 24 in a musical comedy, Die tolle Dolly. The Times called it “a typical and conventional German musical comedy as to plot and humor, although its pleasing, if not distinguished melodies are produced more in the Broadway manner than is customary on the local German stage.”
Although German productions continued in 1917 (in November
Mizi Gizi starred in a three-act German language operetta Auto Love; and in December
Johan Strauss’s operetta On the Blue Danube was staged); anti-German sentiments
were high following America’s entry into World War I.
By the following season German productions were halted
throughout the city. The Metropolitan
Opera House banned German operas. The
Times later noted that German plays were barred “from the Irving Place Theatre
and the Yorkville Theatre.”
The New York Times reported “The German company which has
held the boards of the Yorkville Theatre in Eighty-sixth Street for the last
three or four years will give way to an American company this season.” There was little question regarding the
political tone of the country on opening night 1918.
“The opening attraction will be ‘Tell That to the Marines,’
a play by Mr. Philipp and Edward A. Paulton." The newspaper added for good measure, "Philipp is an American citizen.”
It was not until the season of 1925 that German was heard
again in the Yorkville Theatre. On
October 1 that year The Times reported it “will reopen as a German playhouse.” Later that season, in January 1926, Strauss’s
opera The Gypsy Baron was staged and the following month Anneliese von Dessau
debuted. The German operetta was written
by Robert Winterberg.
Heinrich Knote, renowned tenor of the Munich Opera, appeared
at the Yorkville Theatre in May 1928.
His would be one of the last performances here. The theater shut its doors for good that
year and was converted to stores on the first floor, a dance hall on the
second, and meeting rooms above.
Today pseudo-modern store fronts have erased any trace of
the Yorkville Theater entrance. But on
the heavily altered upper floors the dramatic 1904 decorations survive.
photographs by the author
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