S 1.11' 1 - I-* ° a }T( I' ' '" 'Y . '' . . Pa6ne Eight-w-a - THE MICHIGAN DAILY Sunday,January]15,11956 uyL "y,,, The Saga of a Theatre BOOKS, FEATURES, FASHIONS, SPORTS S irii!Mn a1133 From Opera to Door Prizes: The Downfall of the Whitney Sunday, January 15,1956 THE MICHIGAN DAILY FITZGE RALD & FOOTBA The Disappointed Football Hero Who Found His Glory Ir Almost Half a Century of Catering-to Ann Arbor Audiences fBy DAVID KAPLAN Daily Feature Editor AFTER bringing a galaxy of entertainment stars to Ann Arbor in plays and movies, the Whitney Theatre is now a memory. Nondescript rubble covers the ground where' the theatre once stood. It's age a detriment to its safety, the building was torn down last spring. Now, plans for a pew theatre are in the talking stage and construction is expected to be- gin in the spring. The theatre that boasted plays with Edwin Booth had its origin in a two story building at the corner of North Main and West Ann Streets. The ground floor had food and clothing shops and upstairs was the Athens Theatre. Erected in 1871, the building was later taken over by Bert C. Whitney who owned opera houses in Chicago, Detroit and Toronto, and who renamed it The Whitney Theatre. AT A COST of $60,000 Whitney rebuilt the theatre and the en- tire building. On January 18, 1908 an opening night audience paid up to $25 a seat to see "A Knight for a Day" produced by the Chicago Whitney Opera House Company. From then on, greats of the theatre world played the Whitney as partof their road tour be- tween New York and Chicago. James Murnan, whose father own- ed the Whitney Theatre and Wh t- ney Hotel from 1915 until 1929, recalls some of the stars he saw in plays at the theatre. Among them were Richard Bennett (father of Joan and Con- stance), John Drew in "The Chief," Mrs. Leslie Carter in "The Circle," Francis X. Bushman and Ethel and Jbhn Barrymore in many appear- ances. One of Murnan's old playbills announces the appearance of Ed- win Booth in "Julius Caesar" on May 7, 1888, but most of Murnan's collection dates from 1905 through 1925. Perfume Spray AT THE CORNER of Main and Ann, over the stores of two buildings, the Whitney Theatre provided Ann Arbor with a range of entertainihent that included the Barrymores, Westerns and egg-rolling contests. The old Whitney has now bowed to the times - and a cinemascope, stereophonic sound movie theatre is being planned for the site. THE FOIBLES{ prima donna spected then and an incident when of a theatrical were more re- Murnan related the theatre was sprayed with perfume. "They thought this would give it atmos- phere," Murnan says. The play was Sacha Guitry's torrid "Sleeping Partners" and it starred Irene Bordoni and Wallace Eddinger. Murnan is still in "show business" and runs the box-office at the Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre in the League. Sir Harry Lauder appeared 'at the Whitney during one of his many "farewell tours" of the; United States. Not to neglect ballet and the dance, the Whitney stage was also the scene of performances by Pavlova and Nijinsky. The tragically magnificnt diva Nazi- mova also brought her vehicles to town. Movies, which later took over the theatre entirely, appeared for the first time at the Whitney in September 1914-on Sunday; only. They were three, four or five part Alco productions running up to five reels. Admissions were five and ten cents. B EFORE MOVIES were inter- spersed into the stage programs, such shows as George M. Cohan's "The American Idea" starring Trixie Friganza on Nov. 1, 1909 and one of the perennial versions (Stetson's) of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" Grace George, still a leading act-. ress in today's American theatre, appeared at the Whitney on Feb. 8, 1910 in "A Woman'-s Day" and prices for the performance ranged from 35 cents to $1.50. As part of the Klaw and Eix -n- ger Booking Circuit, the Whitney received plays with such stars as Billie Burke, Elsie Janis, Maude Adams, Lillian Russell and Ann Arbor's own Frank McIntyre, who was Cap'n Andy in the original stage version of "Showboat." Full-length plays were not the only legitimate fare for theatre- gors. In the fall of 1916 Lyman H. Howe brought his "Travel Show" of pictures and commen- tating to th Whitneey. The audi- nce was admittd on a price scale of 25, 35 and 50 cents. Later that year the Washington Square Players from New York made their visit to town. The small and unknown repetory group had as one of its mmbers a soon- to-be-acclaimed actress, Her name was Katharine Cornell. Movies Take Over IT WASN'T until the spring of 1917 that movies alone were shown at the Whitney as THE en- tertainment. The event was David Wark Griffith's monumental epic and the first of the colossally lavish pictures. The picture was "Birth of a Nation," starring Lillian Gish, and it was given lush treatment as' was customary with the "spectac- ulars" of that day. There were only two perform- ances a day for the two-day run on May 18 and May 19. With a top admission price of $1.50, the per- formances boasted a 20-piece sym- phony orchestra for a movie that cost $500,000 to make, employed 18,000 people and 3,000 horses. Eight days later on May 26, 1917 another of D. W. Griffith's pic- tures was given the two-perform- ance treatment. This time the epic was "Intolerance." The four stories of intolerance through the ages were tied together with a poignant picture of Lillian Gish gently rocking a cradle symbolic of the cradle of time. Now the theatre and production budget had been raised. Admis- sion price was $2, but now for your money you would hear music by a symphony orchestra of 30 members and see a film employing 125,000 people and 7,500 horses. The stepped up production and cost in all areas seemed sudden within the space of eight days, but distribution methods had also been stepped up. "Birth of a Nation" which had been filmed in 1914 and released in 1915 took two years to reach Ann Arbor."Intolerance"' was filmed in 1915, released in 1916 and had its local showing in a little more than a year after. Road Shows POPULAR STAGE stars of the day were coming to town and performing at the Whitney more than a decade after its opening night. Films had not, as yet, be- come such an important enter- tainment media. May Irwin ap- peared in her comedy "On the Hiring Line." In the cast was an unknown actress now a noted stage, motion picture and televizion actress-Nydia Westman. Road shows of popular successes also made their stops at the Whit- ney. The Chicago company of " Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" was in town on Nov. 10, 1926 and was followed eight days later by the Windy City's company of "Abie's Irish Rose." Continuing the solo and dance show tradition set up before the first World War, Ruth St. Denis and Ted Shawn performed their joint program at the theatre on Jan. 15, 1927. Legitimate plays or professional companies were not the only ones to use the Whitney. Several sea- sons of Junior Girls Plays were performed there as were several Union Operas, such as "Culture," "Michigenda" and "Cotton Stock- ings." The versatile theatre was well equipped for the varied forms of entertainment it presented. Acous- tically it was probably the best in the ity. Its seating capacity was slightly larger than that of the The Whitney's 1500 chair seats' were divided into 593 on the main floor, 408 in the balcony and 475 in the high gallery whose seats were rows of pew-like benches. There were also six seats in each of the six side boxes. Fancy Parlors & Prisons LIGHTING WAS produced from 183 16-candle power lamps for footlights and 415 three-colored lamps for general'stage lights. Its sets were unprecedented for a* house running one-night stands. Since most road shows did not carry sets with them, each theatre provided common backdrops to perform the play against. The Whitney had nine sets which in- cluded a fancy parlor, a plain chamber, kitchen, cottage, prison, garden, woods, street and a hori- zon. On the stage-level dressing rooms, well-fitted with lights, tables, couches and sinks, there were-solitary stars on each door. All together there were 25 dressing rooms spread out on the three levels backstage. K What the audience saw before the curtain went up was an inter- ior of dark oak woodwork, red upholstered seats, carpets and draperies. The ensemble colors were gold, sky blue, light green and pale yellow. Upon entering the lobby, the theatregoer was flushed with light from three French-finished chan- deliers which flooded the Italian- tile floor of a "very mild and mel- low color" and the paneled walls with their red burlap appoint- meats. Although the. interior and ex- terior remained comparatively un- changed, the bill of fare took a drastic upheaval in 1934. The de- pression had eaten into- show busi- ness and roadshows were unprof it- able ventures. L. C. Mull, manager of the State Theatre and the- Majestic Theatre (which occupied the site of the Maynard Street r1nrr.. n ~. mnnnLa of the WXJhit-. ey Theatre decided to convert ntirely to film showings. DOUBLE features were shown with an admission price of 15 ents until 6 p.m. and 25 cents after 6 p.m. One of the first pic- ures shown under the new policy was "The Scarlet Letter" starring Colleen Moore. Other greats of he 1930's whose films were shown at the Whitney included Shirley Temple, Neil Hamilton, Bela Lu- gosi, Ben Lyon and Will Rogers. In the following decade the bill was usually a western with a second rate film. Pictures such as Roy Rogers in "Rainbow Over Texas" and Eddie Dean in "Song of Old Wyoming" could usually be found playing to gun-toting youngsters. During one such Western, "Devil's Cargo," a high rate of tension was apparent inside the theatre. It was Sept. 23, 1948. The lobby was peaceful until 9 p.m. Then a "tall stranger" walked up to the cashier's cage, drew a revolver out of his pocket and shoved it through the cage. "Check this whileI see the show," he said. The startled cashier gave the stranger his ticket and he disappeared into the theatre. The cashier then called the police who found the gun unload- ed and defective. Policemen watched for the "tal stranger" after the showing was over, but he didn't appear. The gun was added to the collection of confis- cated and unclaimed property at the police station. Gimmicks THE LATE 1940's were the days of the gimmick to attract pa- tronage. The Whitney participated in the fetish by having an egg- decorating contest for March 18 to March 25, 1948 in connection with the theatre's showing of "The Egg and I." Prizes were: $10 to the first-place winner, $5 for second prize, 10 prizes of $1 each, and 10 pairs of tickets. By this time the building was more than 75 years old and age had taken its ruinous toll. The former owners had been told to close the building, but were aLe to stall for two years. Finally or Feb. 17, 1952 the Whitney Theatre was permanently closed. Gone were the plays of the Barrymores and the movies of Roy Rogers. Sixteen years before, in 1936, W. S. Butterfield Theatres Inc. acquired a 99-year-lease on the property, and now planned to build a new movie theatre. For more than three years after its closing, the Whitney stood deserted, un- used and forgotten. On Oct. 8, 1954 WPAG-TV ran a television show honoring the fabulous history of the theatre. LAST WINTER the Butterfield Theatres received notice -from the State Fir'e Marshal and Build- ing Commissioner to raze the building. The theatre group complied and in May the historic building was torn down. At present, legal talks concerning a common wall next to the theatre site are holding up scheduled spring construction. When the case is settled, a 1400- seat theatre will be built. It will have a cinemascope screen, stereo- phonic sound, air conditioning and no offices. Its programs willbe a mixture of "art" and. straight run films. No name has been selected for the new theatre which will stand on the luins of the riches-to-rags Whitnev Theatre. By DONALD A. YATES N the early morning hours of al- most every football Saturday be- tween the years of 1932 to 1937 the telephone in the home of Herbert 0. "Fritz" Crisler would begin to ring. Crisler, during this period head football coach at Princeton Uni- versity, would ultimately reach the receiver, lift it to his ear and listen as the voice of one of America's foremost writers drifted to him over the connection. The call came at times from Miami, St. Paul, Chicago; from Alabama, Hollywood or New York. The distance it covered seemed to make little difference to the caller. Invariably, he was worried. For nearly half an hour, sometimes for longer, Crisler would listen tb an impassioned, often incoherent monologue as it poured forth from the disquieted soul of the man at the other end of the line. Invariably, it was that Satur- day's football game he was wor- ried about. Regardless of whether the scheduled opponent was Har- vard or Dartmouth or Yale, the writer was unbearably apprehen- sive. He made these after-mid- night calls because he truly needed the consolations of his team's head coach, the only man from whom he felt he could secure reliable confidences a b o u t Princeton's' chances: This was the childishly naive alumnus of Princeton calling for reassurance that all was well with his school's football team. This was the voice of F. Scutt Fitz- gerald. FITZGERALD wrote some of the most significant novels of his time. In This Side of Paradisej (1920), The Great Gatsby (1925), and Tender is the Night (1934), the novels on which his fame is based, he demonstrated a peculiar, two-sighted approach ,o writing which set him apart from his con- temporaries. He seemed able, somehow, to participate in and en- joy to the fullest the experiences of his mature years while main- taining a detached. objectified out- look on the things he and his generation were doing. This singular gift for removed observation is clearly described by Malcolm Cowley: "It was as if 'all (Fitzgerald's) stories described a big dance to which he had taken, as he once wrote, the prettiest girl: 'There was an orchestra-Bingo- Bango Playing for us to dance the tango And the people all clapped as we arose For her sweet face and my new clothes--' and as if at the same time he stood outside the ballroom, a little Midwestern boy with his nose to the glass, wondering how much the tickets cost and who paid for the music." Scott's Loyalties FITZGERALD viewed virtually every segment of his existence through this pair of "interior bi- focals." His loyalties, in particu- lar, always seemed to be under scrutiny. They were attached to many things; and they were char- acteristically intense and virtually undying. Scott Fitzgerald was de- voted to his friends, to his beliefs, to his art and - up to the last day of his life - he was loyal to the image he held of what he thought other people expected of him. But possibly greater than any of these loyalties, for reasons on the haunted period of "emotional bankruptcy," when all his values came crashing down about him, his "football dream" was, for some reason, one of the last illusions to go. Finally, because through an analysis of Fitzgerald and football we arrive at a very distinct pic- ture of one of the major motiva- tions that molded the college boy into the writer. Crisler's Role ONE man remembers Fitzgerald's feelings quite in detail-Fritz Crisler, today athletic director at the University, recalls that the writer's attitude on the sport verged on obsession. "I remember Scott's calls very well," Crisler comments. And with a smile he repeats, "Very well. Be- tween twelve midnight and six a.m. of the night before our games. Not just sometimes, but practically every eve of every home game. It got so I sort of expected him to call. I suppose he just wanted to talk to someone, so he picked up the phone and called me. "Most of the time there wasn't much sense in what he said. Some- times he had a play or a new strategy he wanted me to use. But usually I think he just wanted me to listen while he got some of the Princeton feelings off his chest. "It seemed to me that the fel- low felt an uncommon amount of. devotion toward Princeton, for which he had to find a release of some kind. And for some personal reason of his, as head coach of the football team, I guess I was in line for it. "After a while, though, I began C is i 71 f X F. Scott Fitzgerald, the Recorder of his Generation, lived through a career of inten tually undying loyalties. His "Football Dream" was one of these loyalties - and the illusion had collapsed, his devotion to the team that represented the dream still i PALMER STADIUM AT PRINCETON. THE FIRST GAME PLAYED ON THIS FIELD WAS IN 1917, SCOTT FITZGERALD'S S Cr isler Listened to Him OUnload His At All Hours of .The Night F.SCOTT FITZGERALD Shortly after Princeton . . . still loyal to a dream. which we can only speculate, was the writer's devotion to Princeton and to the Tiger football team es- pecially, for it was a part that ul- timately came to represent for him the whole. Fitzgerald's devotion to football deserves an examination, an ap- praisal which it hasn't yet under- gone. This for two major reasons: first, because when he entered into