Ding-Ding, Fill’er Up!

This forlorn VERY old Texaco station is in Healdsburg, CA.

In its day it would have looked something like these. Top, a restored Texaco station in Cowan, Tennessee Photo courtesy of SmallTownGems.com. Below, the toy Texaco station from the late 1950’s or early 1960’s. That’s for sure because I had one!

The Texaco stations were the creation of renown industrial designer Walter Dorwin Teague. His work is some of the most iconic of the twentieth century.

I am particularly interested in the sign. It seems to me an earlier version of what became their best known sign, as seen in the toy above. This particular style I’ve only seen once or twice in various Google searches.

I believe the sign to be very rare, and I hope the folks in Healdsburg can at least save the sign, if not the station itself.

Here is a restored sign at the R.C. Baker Museum in Coalinga, CA. Photo by Dylan Szoshke.

R.C. Baker Museum

Restored historic gas stations ad color and interest to the fabric of our urban landscape. We learn about the changing look of industrial or commercial design over the decades. It points to the rise and dominance of the automobile in our culture. The need for speed and convenience. These are just a few examples of the teaching that historic buildings provide.

Adaptive Reuse.  SIGNAL STATION PIZZA Located at the historic gas station in St. Johns 8302 North Lombard Street (At North Charleston Avenue) Portland, Oregon

Adaptive Reuse. Packard’s in Ramona, is a popular coffee house.


San Diego Historical Resources Board Designation. Johnson’s Wilshire Gas Station 4689 Market Street, San Diego. The resource embodies the distinctive characteristics and character defining features of Googie architecture and retains a good level of architectural integrity from its 1962 period of significance.

The Appeal of Historic Design Features. This Gilmore Gas Station at the Fairfax Farmers Market in Los Angeles helps make this destination popular to locals and tourists alike.

Keeping Community Character. Mike Burnett (jumping) and Craig Abenilla (kneeling) own the Golden Hill architecture firm, Foun-dationForForm. Their plans to develop the site at 811 25th Street appears to utilize the mid century gas station at the site rather than demolish it. Kudos to you gentlemen!

It was a Texaco station with characteristic mid century design elements. Not nearly as old as Santa Rosa’s, but it is good news it won’t disappear. And we look forward to it it looking great, if not better than ever one day.

It should be illegal to paint over natural rock! Midcentury design elements at play here. A thick rock sign blade with circular cut out. Post and beam. Clerestory windows,  Board and batton wall effect.

The former Texaco Station at University and First is a vintage Walter Dorwin Teague era building. It would be wonderful to see great things happen to this resource as we’ve seen in other cases.


Jesus Saves!


Santa Rosa, CA

Jesus Saves, but apparently not the building’s wooden siding or double hung windows. The rotunda windows still look good, but the windows on the far left and right all have that cheap looking plastic white patio chair look. These windows begin to blotch, deteriorate and become uglier and uglier only after a few years. The life span of vinyl windows is relatively short, regardless of the bogus advertising permeating everywhere.

Well adjusted and maintained wooden windows are not nearly as energy inefficient as vinyl propaganda contends. Plus wood is the only truly sustainable window option.

I restored my 75 year old windows. They look great, work perfectly–and they should be good for another 75 years. Unless someone comes along after I’m gone and destroys my good work with crappy vinyl. But hopefully by then most people will have learned the completely awful truth about vinyl.

The tasteless application of stucco over wooden siding as well as the vinyl window craze is doing as much damage to historic architecture as developers and speculators.


Ghost Town

Rhyolite. It was once the third largest city in Nevada. Boomtown it was. Between 1904 and 1908 she was the queen of mining towns. Not just your ordinary canvass and wood makeshift structures. Rhyolite was solidly built with obvious intentions of staying around awhile. It boasted all the cosmopolitan features. Water and power. There were forty-five saloons, an opera house, an orchestra, a number of dance halls, a slaughterhouse, two railroad depots, and three public swimming pools serving as many as 10,000 residents.

Looking out the school house window openings to the town. The Cook Bank building, left. Overbury Building (jewelry store), center. General Store, right.

Two things killed Rhyolite. The gold mines tapped out. City investors pulled out when the national economy turned sour. By 1911 the population was down to 675. In 1916 utilities were shut off. Boomtown became ghost town.

Cook Bank Building

This substantial structure of 3 stories cost $90,000. It had marble floors imported from Italy, mahogany woodwork, electric lights, telephone and inside plumbing. Various interior components and fixtures were sold off when Rhyolite shut down. Staircases, banisters, floors, etc., live on today as parts of various buildings scattered through the region.



General Store
.

Rhyolite is perhaps the best known of all ghost towns. Likely the most photographed. It has served as a set for numerous motion pictures and music videos.

Train Station

Three Railroad lines came through Rhyolite. The Depot today appears in use by someone. The structure seems restorable to me.

Bottle House of 1906.

The walls are completely made of glass bottles. The house has lived on through the years as a tourist attraction. However upon my visit I didn’t see any caretaker. It seemed closed up.

The Campus and The College

Campus Drive In dsoderblog.com

There was probably no landmark more associated with The Boulevard than the Campus Drive In Movie Theatre. From 1948 The Campus Drive In was famous for its 50-x 80-foot neon mural and 46-foot tall majorette complete with twirling baton and Indian headdress. The background scene of the mural included the old SDSU campanile–Hepner Hall– the Hardy Memorial Tower, goal posts and Cowles mountain with an “S” on it.
Tickets were 50 cents a piece. You had the choice of walk in (200 available seats) or drive in (700 cars).

If memory serves me correctly, Sam J. Russo, chief operator of The Campus Drive In, also brought forth the neighboring College Theatre. In its day The College Theatre was among San Diego’s most renown in terms of screen size, seating comfort, and sound quality. I also have this memory of seeing a picture there called The Loved One in 1965, starring Jonathan Winters. A few of the more choice movie theatres offered reserved ticket sales. The days of movie going as an event.

By the time I got my first job as a film projectionist at the College Theatre in 1979, the connection between The College and Campus Drive In was dissolved. Separate owners. The operator of the The College was a man named Herb Krapsi. Apparently bored in his retirement years, he ventured into the film exhibition business. He made the big beautiful College into 4 small “plex” theatres, The College 4. He seemed to consistently demonstrate a tendency to be penny wise and pound foolish. The smaller theatres were not especially well constructed. Sound transfered through walls. The additional projection booth floors rendered footsteps to ears below. And if walking wasn’t done carefully, the projectors jiggled enough to give a shaky or bouncy picture. Intermission music came from the cheapest 8 track tape players made. the J.C. Penny Penncrest. He bought them second hand at a swap meet. The Barbara Streisand tape he insisted upon sounded so bad I heard one customer complain “That’s Moms Mabley singing–DRUNK!”
Worse than that was his automated projection system. The machines were prototypes from a company that went into and out of business overnight. They ran horribly. It must have cost Herb more money to replace damaged film than the cost of buying decent equipment.

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The Classic Pre Automation Drive In Theatre Projection Booth.  This one is the Lackland Drive-In Theatre in San Antonio. Image source: The Top Shelf, A blog about Special Collections at the UTSA libraries. The article, The San Antonio Drive-In Movie Theaters, August 19, 2013

The old fashioned projection booth had two projectors. There was a precise system of alternating between the two for projecting separate reels of a movie continuously and uninterrupted. Under normal circumstances that is. If the projectionist messes up, the audience may see numbers on the screen or “jumps” in the movie. A projection mishap audiences tend to enjoy, however, is when a movie frame gets jammed or stopped in the film gate. The image melts and burns before their eyes evoking “whoops and hollers.” Nothing like a hot and heavy love scene suddenly vaporizing.

KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

Image Source: Big Screen Blog – Celebration! Cinema

One might think of an automated projection system along the lines of an 8-track tape. A bit different though. The above shows film feeding out through a control mechanism in the center. That mechanism precisely monitors and regulates the speed of that platter with the feed rate of the projector. The separate reels spliced together on this platter are discernable as “bands.” The first reel of a movie is wound upon a core ring at the center of this platter. All the reels are spliced together. The core ring is removed, then the film is wound through the control mechanism and over to the projector via rollers and guides. After the film is projected it runs back to a “take up” platter. It winds, again, upon a core ring. And on it goes.

The platter is most typically made of a light alloy or anodized metal designed to be static resistant.

The platters Herb Krapsi installed at The College 4 were plastic. On some days you walked into the booth your hair stood straight up because of static electricity. Or lighting bolts sparked between yourself and objects you reached for.

“I love it,” said Herb. “My projectionists can’t sleep on the job!”

But there were more problems in his projection booths. Those mechanisms for controlling the speed of the platter went hay wire sometimes. For no reason other than the machines were junk, the platters spun out of control whirling and whipping motion picture film every which way through the projection booth. The projectionist had run over and resolve the calamity. Running caused the picture to jiggle and jump on the screen. When the film feeding into the projector broke, an automatic “trip” was set off to close the curtain, bring up the auditorium lights and play music.

Barbara! “The waaaaaaaaay we were.

The man in charge of holding together Herb’s plastic prototype film platters was named Mike Boyer. A man I should be ever grateful to for giving me my first job as a projectionist. But there are two thoughts that come to mind at the mention of his name. First his almost Hitler like mustache. Second his need for “Heads and Shoulders” shampoo. The sight of him scratching his head and “sprinkling” an ice cream cone he ate wasn’t pretty.

Boyer and I were standing in the lobby with a number of people milling about the snack bar.

I asked “doesn’t Herb give consideration to the number of complaints he must get about film breaks here?”

His reply was “Herb worry about complaints? That’s why he doesn’t care about complaints.”

I looked to where he was tipping his flaky head. A woman with her hair up in big rollers was eating out of a tub of pop corn as a dog would eat except she wasn’t on all fours or eating off the floor.

Mike sensed I hadn’t observed completely. “You didn’t look at her hair, did you?”

A second look revealed several six legged creatures with long antennae crawling in and out of her curlers.

“That’s why Herb doesn’t care,” Boyer finished his ice cream cone.

Interesting though, Mike Boyer noticing someone’s hair but not his own.

Herb Krapsi was especially excited with the release of Scanners in 1981. “This is going to make us a lot of money,” he said. “Run the preview in all four theatres.” Only problem was it was an “R”rated film. The trailer or preview was to be used appropriately. We pointed out previewing Scanners for the audience watching Disney’s Song of The South might not be a good idea.

“F___k ’em,” he said. “Run it!”

Below is a link for the preview. You’ll see what mothers and young children watching Song of the South were presented with. The outrage was fierce and intense among the people storming out of the auditorium to complain. Herb pleaded ignorance. He said his projectionist failed to inform him about the horrifying subject matter.

Yep, that’s right. I did it.

. . . . photo San Diego Reader, 7/6/06, “Field of Screens,” p.26

The Campus Drive In closed in February 1983. The College Theatre carried on awhile longer. The Majorette Portion of the Campus Drive In mural was preserved. It can be seen today at College Grove Center. I wondered with all the new construction at SDSU over the years why a wall of one of those buildings couldn’t have been dedicated not only to the majorette but the entire mural. Precious little of our past landscape survives. Those imaginative elements with colorful and unique detail seem so easily discarded. And replaced by what?

Scanners Preview

YouTube featurette shows a projectionist at work.

Wiener Secession

As mentioned in my previous entry on Ljubljana, the Slovenian architect Jože Plečnik was a student of the Austrian architect Otto Wagner (1841-1918).
Wagner produced not only fine buildings but urban plans as well. In 1890 he produced a new city plan for Vienna. The ambitious work, however, only materialized in one phase. The Stadtbahn, Vienna’s urban rail network. The stations he designed are still in use today. Functional as ever; beautiful to look at.

The Karlsplatz Stadtbahn Station is the most recognized and iconic jewel of the system.

Karlsplatz Studtbahn Station (1894-1902) Detail


Karlsplatz, detail

Karlsplatz, detail

In 1897 Wagner co-founded the Vienna Sucessionsts, a group of designers, architects and artists dedicated to a new modernity of design. Pure, simple functional lines. New materials and new forms with a strong tendency to naturalistic motifs. Art Nouveau architect Josef Hoffman was also in this group along with designer Kolomon Moser, and painter Gustav Klimt.

Here is the Majolikahouse Wagner designed and built, 1898-1899


Majolikahouse, balcony detail.


This is a sister to Majolikahouse. The two buildings stand side by side on Linke Wienzeile, Vienna. Back in the day both structures were commonly regarded as “hideous beyond measure.”

Another Vienna Sucessionist co-founder was architect Joseph Olbrich. He designed the Sucession Exhibit Hall, above, in 1898.

Frank Lloyd Wright biographer Brendan Gill spends more than a few pages of essay about this building’s relationship with Wright’s 1905 landmark Unity Temple in Oak Park, Illinois.

Wright was never one to say “I took someone’s great idea and improved on it.” He rarely tipped his hat to any influence on his work. As a Guest Of Honor before a gathering of renown architects in Berlin, 1905, Wright must have bristled upon being introduced as “The American Olbrich.” His only outward reaction was to say this aroused his curiosity and that he’d have to discover what Olbrich and his work were all about–knowing full well Olbrich’s stature.

Olbrich died at age 41. Wright still had 50 years of career ahead of him and much of his legacy yet to be written.

Detail, Wiener Sucession Exhibit Hall

Detail, Unity Temple

Olbrich’s signature stone at Sucessionist Exhibit Hall. Wright used a red signature tile on his works.

Unity Temple, Oak Park, Illinois, 1905

Vertical lines, Unity Temple, above; Karlsplatz, below.


Karlsplatz (Wagner). The clock above foyer entrance.

Unity Temple Lighting details. Natural and incandescent indirect light.

Karlsplatz barrel ceiling detail and light element.