The continuing story of the house Joe and Mary Ann Scott lved in for over sixty years and the families that have lived here since.
The Scott’s had a phone by 1924 and a television by 1958 and in between many of those other items which landmark the growing prosperity of ordinary people.
Theirs was a generation born before the first motor cars, aeroplanes and radios. During their early adult life they would have mastered first the radio, and then the telephone and no doubt one of the still rare motor cars.
And at some stage in their newly married life they may have sat in a darkened hall and been mesmerized by the moving images on the giant screen and still later by the mix of sound and pictures. I have no way of knowing if they went to the Pictures but I guess so. There were enough of them here in Chorlton. Some like the Palais de Luxe Cinema on Barlow Moor Road had opened by 1915, while the Rivoli which was the last opened its doors in 1937.
It is difficult today in the age of the multiplex to fully appreciate the novelty, magic and sense of luxury of “going to the flicks.” The very first picture houses may have been in small assembly rooms or converted music halls, but by the 1930s they were sumptuous almost decadent places. Everything about them was designed to lift the cinema goer into a different world.
Here was a sort of comfort few could enjoy at home, which ranged from the rich carpeted floors and plush seating to the bright lights of the foyer and the clean crisp lines of the kiosks. The interiors were bright with reds, blues and gold and the large curtain in front of the screen was always of a thick rich material which would have looked so wonderful in your front room.
And it started at the door, with the uniformed attendants who marshalled and welcomed the queues of cinema goers. Remember few buildings remained lit up at night and the cinema was a beacon of coloured electric lights and many retained their wrought iron canopies which sheltered you from the rain, advertised the show and was the first contact with the picture experience to come.
They were also warm and smelt clean, all of which made you feel special. And there was the class thing, like theatres you got what you paid for. The cheapest seats were downstairs the most expensive upstairs in the balcony. Even in the 60s there was a choice to be made. If you were out with your mates, it was the cheap seats and if it was a Saturday and a special date then you splashed out for the balcony. Forget all that stuff aboutthe back row which I cannot deny I did but a special date meant a special seat.
I doubt that Joe or Mary Ann would have bothered with the back seats; by the time the Savoy on Manchester Road and the Rivoli up by the bridge over the Brook on Barlow Moor Road were opened I think their main preoccupation would have been watching the picture.
And of course there was so much to see, from the “feature” and the B movie to the short news reel. We forget that before the television these short news slots were the only visual way most experienced the events of the day. And my generation still had that odd practice that because shows were continuous you could go in at any time, picking up the film from that moment and watch round to the point where you had come in, which today I find a bizarre way to see a film but then was quite normal.
Ida has told me of the restaurant at the old Rivoli which was opened to coincide with its restoration after it had been bombed. The first day the owners issued special vouchers and there after it remained a wonderful place to eat.
Of all our cinemas I have to say the Palais de Luxe Cinema remains one of my favourites. Smaller and less grand than the others its designer had managed to add something quirky with the large circular windows which I guess reminded you of eyes and its green and white glazed tiles.
But for me the saddest image is the transformation of the Savoy on Manchester Road which in a way sums up the decline of the old cinema houses. Looking at the 1930 picture by Harold Clarke all the wonderful elements are there, from the twin dooms and the ornate stone frontage to its wrought iron canopy. And compare it with its appearance in 1958. In keeping with the 50’s look the ornate fiddly bits have either been taken down or hidden by the wooden panelling, and the entrance canopy banished to some scrap yard.
I suppose it was all part of the picture houses adapting to new times, and there was plenty of life left in them, after all some of the great spectacular movies ranging from Cleopatra, Spartacus and Lawrence of Arabia had yet to me made, not to mention James Bond, but the telly had arrived.
The Scott’s had theirs by 1958 and the idea of going out on a cold winter’s night to seek entertainment may not have been as attractive. And cinemas were not as inviting as they had been. Some were looking shabby while others suffered from that craze to slash the cinema seat with a flick knife which created that whoosh of air as you sat down in the chair.
In 1972 John Lloyd the historian lamented the passing of the cinema and much that had been the cultural life of Chorlton. It was he wrote ”painfully obvious that Chorlton in the evening is dead,” concluding that at “about eleven o’clock those who have been out shuffle back and a few more ghostly blue shadows flick across the curtains to join the many more that have been flickering all night.”*
But things have a habit of going full circle and the wide range of cultural and educational activities which Lloyd so missed are returning. I mentioned these in an earlier posting http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/2011/11/chorlton-history-group.html
In 1910 there were 36 such organisations including seven tennis clubs, three lacrosse clubs, nine football clubs as well as cricket, drama groups and political parties.
I have no way of knowing if Joe and Mary Ann got involved in them but I will be returning to these later in the year.
Pictures; Palais de Luxe Cinema, H. A. Downes May 1959, m09248, Savoy Picture House, A.H. Clarke 1930, m09290, and Gaumont Cinema, A.H. Downes November 1958, m09220, Courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council
*Lloyd, John M, The Township of Chorlton cum Hardy, E.J.Morten, 1972, pp 108-109
The Scott’s had a phone by 1924 and a television by 1958 and in between many of those other items which landmark the growing prosperity of ordinary people.
Theirs was a generation born before the first motor cars, aeroplanes and radios. During their early adult life they would have mastered first the radio, and then the telephone and no doubt one of the still rare motor cars.
And at some stage in their newly married life they may have sat in a darkened hall and been mesmerized by the moving images on the giant screen and still later by the mix of sound and pictures. I have no way of knowing if they went to the Pictures but I guess so. There were enough of them here in Chorlton. Some like the Palais de Luxe Cinema on Barlow Moor Road had opened by 1915, while the Rivoli which was the last opened its doors in 1937.
It is difficult today in the age of the multiplex to fully appreciate the novelty, magic and sense of luxury of “going to the flicks.” The very first picture houses may have been in small assembly rooms or converted music halls, but by the 1930s they were sumptuous almost decadent places. Everything about them was designed to lift the cinema goer into a different world.
Here was a sort of comfort few could enjoy at home, which ranged from the rich carpeted floors and plush seating to the bright lights of the foyer and the clean crisp lines of the kiosks. The interiors were bright with reds, blues and gold and the large curtain in front of the screen was always of a thick rich material which would have looked so wonderful in your front room.
And it started at the door, with the uniformed attendants who marshalled and welcomed the queues of cinema goers. Remember few buildings remained lit up at night and the cinema was a beacon of coloured electric lights and many retained their wrought iron canopies which sheltered you from the rain, advertised the show and was the first contact with the picture experience to come.
They were also warm and smelt clean, all of which made you feel special. And there was the class thing, like theatres you got what you paid for. The cheapest seats were downstairs the most expensive upstairs in the balcony. Even in the 60s there was a choice to be made. If you were out with your mates, it was the cheap seats and if it was a Saturday and a special date then you splashed out for the balcony. Forget all that stuff aboutthe back row which I cannot deny I did but a special date meant a special seat.
I doubt that Joe or Mary Ann would have bothered with the back seats; by the time the Savoy on Manchester Road and the Rivoli up by the bridge over the Brook on Barlow Moor Road were opened I think their main preoccupation would have been watching the picture.
And of course there was so much to see, from the “feature” and the B movie to the short news reel. We forget that before the television these short news slots were the only visual way most experienced the events of the day. And my generation still had that odd practice that because shows were continuous you could go in at any time, picking up the film from that moment and watch round to the point where you had come in, which today I find a bizarre way to see a film but then was quite normal.
Ida has told me of the restaurant at the old Rivoli which was opened to coincide with its restoration after it had been bombed. The first day the owners issued special vouchers and there after it remained a wonderful place to eat.
Of all our cinemas I have to say the Palais de Luxe Cinema remains one of my favourites. Smaller and less grand than the others its designer had managed to add something quirky with the large circular windows which I guess reminded you of eyes and its green and white glazed tiles.
But for me the saddest image is the transformation of the Savoy on Manchester Road which in a way sums up the decline of the old cinema houses. Looking at the 1930 picture by Harold Clarke all the wonderful elements are there, from the twin dooms and the ornate stone frontage to its wrought iron canopy. And compare it with its appearance in 1958. In keeping with the 50’s look the ornate fiddly bits have either been taken down or hidden by the wooden panelling, and the entrance canopy banished to some scrap yard.
I suppose it was all part of the picture houses adapting to new times, and there was plenty of life left in them, after all some of the great spectacular movies ranging from Cleopatra, Spartacus and Lawrence of Arabia had yet to me made, not to mention James Bond, but the telly had arrived.
The Scott’s had theirs by 1958 and the idea of going out on a cold winter’s night to seek entertainment may not have been as attractive. And cinemas were not as inviting as they had been. Some were looking shabby while others suffered from that craze to slash the cinema seat with a flick knife which created that whoosh of air as you sat down in the chair.
In 1972 John Lloyd the historian lamented the passing of the cinema and much that had been the cultural life of Chorlton. It was he wrote ”painfully obvious that Chorlton in the evening is dead,” concluding that at “about eleven o’clock those who have been out shuffle back and a few more ghostly blue shadows flick across the curtains to join the many more that have been flickering all night.”*
But things have a habit of going full circle and the wide range of cultural and educational activities which Lloyd so missed are returning. I mentioned these in an earlier posting http://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/2011/11/chorlton-history-group.html
In 1910 there were 36 such organisations including seven tennis clubs, three lacrosse clubs, nine football clubs as well as cricket, drama groups and political parties.
I have no way of knowing if Joe and Mary Ann got involved in them but I will be returning to these later in the year.
Pictures; Palais de Luxe Cinema, H. A. Downes May 1959, m09248, Savoy Picture House, A.H. Clarke 1930, m09290, and Gaumont Cinema, A.H. Downes November 1958, m09220, Courtesy of Manchester Libraries, Information and Archives, Manchester City Council
*Lloyd, John M, The Township of Chorlton cum Hardy, E.J.Morten, 1972, pp 108-109
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