Screen Savers by Edizioni ETS

Susanna Caccia

The volume focuses on the situation of the cinema in the international panorama. A repertory of architectures that materialize technical, spatial and visual requirements, controlled in every single detail, from furnishings to design and art. Such a heritage is today threatened by abandonments, alterations and even demolitions. The book does not only intend to highlight the need to safeguard the cinemas that are still preserved today but also to raise new considerations on restoration and new compatible uses. With contributions by:

Screen savers

Susanna Caccia (editor) Evinc Dogan Kjell Furberg Marta García Falcó Maria Adriana Giusti Ezio Godoli Richard Gray Patricia Méndez Pierre Pageau Marc Zimmermann

Screen savers

Cinema’s preservation in the international scene edited by Susanna Caccia

€ 22,00

ETS

Edizioni ETS

architecture landscape international heritage

Collana ALIH

architecture landscape international heritage

Maria Adriana Giusti (director)

Image cover: The Fontänen, Vällingby, Sweden (photo by Kjell Furberg)

www.edizioniets.com

Screen savers

Cinemaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s preservation in the international scene edited by Susanna Caccia

Edizioni ETS

CONTENS

Foreword

Cinema halls in Buenos Aires a XXth century heritage

Marta García Falcó, Patricia Méndez From the Volta to the Light House: re-evaluating Dublin’s Architectural Cinema Heritage

Marc Zimmermann A Future of Heritage Cinema Buildings

Richard Gray The Remaining Cinema Gems of Sweden

Kjell Furberg Canada (Québec)

Pierre Pageau Cinema Architecture at risk. Experiences and conservation projects

121

Susanna Caccia Rediscovering Cinema Architecture and its value in Malta’s social landscape

139

Marc Zimmermann Cinema Architecture in Italy

157

Maria Adriana Giusti From arcades to shopping malls: preservation of Beyoglu cinemas

169

Evinc Dogan The architecture of northern Africa cinema theaters from their origins to the second world war Ezio Godoli

189

FOREWORD

For too long a time our movie theatres have represented a heritage that seems doomed to disappear. For over thirty years now they have shown signs of irreversible decline, with buildings torn down or altered for other uses. Despite the repeated warnings of scholars and movie-lovers all over the world, despite the publications and conferences they have produced, an important part of our cultural heritage is being lost. This is why we have felt the need for the present volume, in which a series of contributions are brought together, starting out from Quebec, as told by Pierre Pageau, to lap the shores of movie theatres on African coasts, as described by Ezio Godoli. These writings have been deliberately chosen for their reference to a variety of spatial and socio-cultural contexts, not only to offer as broad as possible a panorama of the current situation, but also to trace the paths that can lead to saving our cinemas. They are essays that reveal both the importance of this problem on an international scale and also ways to find new directions and strategies for conservation. Though, as Maria Adriana Giusti shows in her contribution, Italy unfortunately lags behind in this search, not only as regards the literature on the topic but also in the paucity of concrete measures of conservation, some interesting situations do exist. In this context, we need only think of the associations created almost all over the world, of which an outstanding example is Londonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Cinema Theatre Association, associations that for many years have been carrying on a vast project of cataloging and conservation. It is especially the English cinemas described by Richard Gray that show us how such associations can play a decisive role in the survival of theatre architecture. Examples of these masterpieces include the Swedish movie theatres described by the historian Kjell Furberg, who recreates for the reader the golden years of cinema with an evocative series of illustrations to accompany the text. Another text offering important insights is the contribution of the Cinema Heritage Group, under the guidance of Marc Zimmermann, the author of two dense essays here included, one on particular aspects of the situation in Malta and the other about the city of Dublin. Other essays that contribute to our understanding of the importance of historical research aimed at a meticulous analysis of the situation of a specific geographical area include the

detailed study of Buenos Aires done by Marta Garcia Falco and Patricia Méndez, or that of Istanbul by Evinc Dogan. Though unfortunately in many instances we witness a series of uncoordinated initiatives and a lack of consistent policy-making, we can also find a stimulating counter-example in France. There, various initiatives promoted by Mission Cinéma, created in 2002, are part of a project aimed on the one hand to safeguard and give new life to historical movie theatres and on the other at an intelligent envisioning of new containers designed to create more geographical balance in the presence of cinemas. A primary role in the battle against the loss of cinemas has been played by citizens who in response to local situations have rallied against closings and demolitions. Sit-ins, petitions and other forms of local protest were, for example, the means used to prevent the loss of Adalberto Libera’s historical Cinema Airone in Rome. This book hopes to join the actions of local communities. Its objective is to recognize the centrality of the architectural heritage of movie theatres and the desire to link knowledge to social action and conservation. It is for this reason that a comparison and interchange with what is happening on the international scene has seemed indispensible. This comparison has its foundations in a common goal: safeguarding movie theatres and with them a piece of the history of the twentieth century, for they are at once icons of modernity in its various junctures and the expression of forms of citizenship that differ according to time and place. With an important final comment: a work like this once again proposes to the historian and the restorer the occasion for reflection on and memory of the various temporalités urbaines.

CINEMA HALLS IN BUENOS AIRES A XX CENTURY HERITAGE MARTA GARCÍA FALCÓ, PATRICIA MÉNDEZ

In Buenos Aires, film entertainment called up public attention from its very outset, at the first exhibition at the Odeon theatre on July 18th, 1896. Although the first films showed in Argentina shared buildings with theatre plays – for they were exhibited in existing theatre halls –, in a few years this technological innovation required special locations capable of housing the necessary devices. Thus, in 1900 the National Cinematograph, in downtown Buenos Aires – Maipu 471/79 –, began operating. This was the first hall equipped for film screenings, refurbished to that end inside a private house of the time. The creators of this new cinema hall were Gregorio Ortuño – owner of a photographic equipment shop –, and the Puppo company with Mr. Rodriguez Melgarejo, all three promoters of this first cinema hall in Argentina. The cinema boom was such that, in 1909, Buenos Aires already had more than thirty cinema halls, apart from the forty theatres that showed, alternately, films and plays. Also, in 1909, the Cine Teatro Ateneo (later Empire Theatre), opened at the corner of Corrientes and Maipu streets. The building was the work of the French-Swiss architect Jacques Dunant, who was also one of its owners, and was considered the first truly luxurious cinema hall in the city. Quickly, cinema halls started their decentralization, accompanying the growth of the city and the consolidation of districts, areas with functional structures and identity of their own, sometimes arising as the expansion of the central area (Barrio Norte, Balvanera, Constitution, Palermo), and others deriving from the inclusion inside the city limits of ancient villages of the surroundings (Flores, Belgrano, Colegiales, Caballito). Less than a decade spanned between the opening of the first cinema hall in the family house on Maipú Street and the specially designed places for cinema pioneers. The specific requirements of this new functional program produced architectural and spatial aesthetic results closely related to theatre ones, but with more inspired and imaginative designs. Thus, the Buckingham Palace was a real Moorish castle opening on the very Spanish-styled Avenida de Mayo, the New Palace was a strikingly decorated almostcircus, while, later, other cinemas such as the Hindu or the Renaissance, honored their 9

Cinema halls in Buenos Aires. A XX century heritage

Cinemat贸grafo Nacional

Buckingham Palace , c. 1906

FROM THE VOLTA TO THE LIGHT HOUSE: RE-EVALUATING DUBLIN’S ARCHITECTURAL CINEMA HERITAGE MARC ZIMMERMANN

Transience and Destruction “Who the hell wants to hear actors talk?!?” H.M. Warner – of Warner Bros. studios – famously misjudged the scene in 1927, at the advent of the ‘talkies’. Soon everyone wanted to hear them and cinema evolved yet again. One might also ask ‘who the hell wants to preserve historic cinemas?’ Evidently, an increasing number of heritage-conscious people do. As mass-entertainment venues, cinemas have been treated as transient structures throughout most of their history. This is hardly surprising, as this transience – an elemental character of architecture of any kind – is particularly pronounced in film venues, as they have sprung up, prospered, been reshaped and replaced throughout twelve decades of film exhibition. The question we need to ask is: which examples do we need to preserve for future generations, as an integral part of our shared, socio-cultural heritage? Cinemas’ lifespan has always been limited by their adaptability. During the first half of the 1900s this related almost exclusively to new requirements and technologies, including sound, sightlines and widescreen facilities. Following the sweeping closures of singlescreen venues in the face of dwindling audiences during the latter half of the twentieth century, cinema structures’ suitability to new uses became one of the deciding factors in their survival. Similarly to the once numerous public indoor swimming pools in Britain1, former Dublin cinemas’ large open-plan interiors – with their inherent limitations – often restricted their use to supermarkets (such as the 1934 Drumcondra Grand), furniture warehouses (e.g. the 1912 Phoenix Picture Palace), or bingo halls (e.g. the 1954 Whitehall Grand). However, just like film exhibition before it, bingo has seen a substantial decline in recent years, leading to permanent closures and demolitions of several of the venues it had helped survive. Widespread during the 1880s-1930s, see Dr. Ian Gordon, Simon Inglis, Historic British Indoor Pools, London, English Heritage, 2009.

From the Volta to the Light House: Re-evaluating Dublin’s Architectural Cinema Heritage

1. Artist’s impression of the neon-lit Adelphi, c.1939 (CHG Collection)

2. Olympia auditorium (now heritage-listed) and safety curtain with small screen inset, 1979 © Irish Architectural Archive

A FUTURE OF HERITAGE CINEMA BUILDINGS IN BRITAIN RICHARD GRAY

In Britain cinemas started closing back in the 1960s and 1970s and thereafter, typically, bingo often took over in the disused buildings. In more recent years bingo has also started to fall from favour and in certain cases local people have agitated for a working cinema again or a performing arts venue. This is a ‘grass roots’ process involving the formation of a building preservation trust; the most successful of such ventures have the support of the local council which will, on occasions, help trusts by acquiring the cinema outright or issuing a compulsory purchase order. The importance of having local authority support, even if non-financial, cannot be over-stressed. To date only one British example dating from the ‘great cinema age’, that is the period separating the two World Wars – namely the years between 1918 and 1939 – has been totally restored to its original appearance. This is the Plaza in Stockport, a part of suburban Greater Manchester, a major ex-industrial city in the north of England. The Plaza opened in 1932 and has an interior which is a good example of the Parisian inspired Art Deco style of zigzags and chevrons combined with classical motifs, while externally – which in terms of cinema architecture usually means only the main façade – there is more restraint, in the form of a stripped classicism derived from 1920s Sweden and the USA. While other British cinemas have been restored and come back into use, in many instances their rebirth has been compromised to fit a new purpose, mostly theatres or churches, with the result that, for instance, in the former, lighting gantries can dominate the auditorium, or in the latter, the proscenium drapes will have been dispensed with. But at the Plaza the overwhelming emphasis has been to reproduce every detail of how it appeared when first opened, with the minimum of modern intrusions. This philosophy dominated the thinking and can be illustrated: firstly – the decision over some of the internal doors many of which had been lost – suitable contemporary doors salvaged from a nearby demolished cinema were available but the preference was to reproduce original doors in facsimile. Secondly, the lettering on the external canopy over the entrance announces: ‘Orchestra, Talkies, Variety, Organ, Café’. This was the entertainment offered at the Plaza in 1932 and while the café has been resurrected, only at different times were

1. Plaza, Stockport, Greater Manchester, auditorium

A Future of heritage cinema buildings in Britain

2. Plaza, Stockport, Greater Manchester, faรงade the re-created pay box

THE REMAINING CINEMA GEMS OF SWEDEN KJELL FURBERG

Sweden is renowned for still having many well-preserved, magnificent cinemas – but for how long? Some of them are world-famous, such as the Skandia in Stockholm, with its stunning interior designed by the architect Erik Gunnar Asplund. The law on listing and protecting cinemas is not very useful. Under Swedish law it is difficult to protect unique and valuable buildings, as well as interiors and environments. However, the County Administrations’ cultural departments were given a chance to list by stating that cinemas were worthy of protection on account of their special historical interest. Yet the law is powerless: if property owners are afraid of not being able to convert the premises for some other business in the future, they can request compensation. As there is no state funding for this purpose, property owners actually have a right of veto. There have also been cases in which the authorities simply did not bother to examine the applications that were made. In other instances, the County Administration rejected applications on erroneous grounds, such as the seats and stage curtains prior removal, as a protection order does not cover furniture and fittings. Swedish television made its final breakthrough in 1958. Most cinema proprietors persevered until about 1960, when it was clear that audience figures had dropped drastically. Cinemas started closing down and many were demolished. In the 1960s and 1970s, the remaining cinemas were often subjected to poor renovation, which were often less sensitive than in the 1940s. One of the most interesting cinemas from the pioneering period is the Svea in Sundsvall designed by the architect of Stockholm’s City Hall (nowadays best known as the venue for the annual Nobel Prize banquet), Ragnar Östberg, and opened in 1912. It is probably no coincidence that a significant volume of Swedish film production commenced in the same year. It is one of the earliest examples of the more extravagant buildings, which were purpose-built to be used solely as cinemas and, consequently, features spectacular exte77

The Remaining Cinema Gems of Sweden

1. Svea, Sundsvall, 1912 (photo by K. Furberg)

CANADA (QUÉBEC) PIERRE PAGEAU

Situation de la restauration de salles de cinéma Dans l’ensemble il y a eu un très grand nombre de destructions des belles salles de cinéma des années 1915-1945; principalement des palaces. Cet article ne tentera pas de faire l’inventaire de ces trop nombreuses pertes. Nous essaierons plutôt d’identifier les cas de restauration qui témoignent d’une volonté, et réussite, pour préserver une partie de notre patrimoine culturel.

Lois sur le patrimoine: Le Québec ne s’est jamais donné une loi spécifique pour protéger les salles de cinéma. Il y a eu une première «Loi du Patrimoine» en 1972 pour tenter de sauver un certain nombre de lieux patrimoniaux, mais il s’agissait principalement de maisons de personnages importants de notre histoire. Mais cette loi a pu servir, on le verra par la suite du texte, pour sauver des sales de cinéma. En 2010 le gouvernement dépose une nouvelle version de cette loi: «Loi sur le patrimoine culturel». Cette loi vient tout juste d’être adopté, en 2011, en session parlementaire. Pour l’essentiel cette loi est plus sévère que la précédente. Lorsqu’un bâtiment, ou lieu patrimonial, a été classé par le gouvernement, il est très difficile de changer les règles du jeu. Le gouvernement, avec l’aide des municipalités, a élargi ses pouvoirs. Je vais décrire ici quelques-uns de ces beaux cas de préservation de notre héritage culturel. Le cas le plus actuel est celui du cinéma Rialto.

Les palaces de la rue Sainte-Catherine: Comme un peu partout dans le monde c’est au centre-ville, et sur les grandes artères, que sont construites les premières «vraies» salles de cinéma. À Montréal, l’artère 99

Canada (QuĂŠbec)

1. Ste-Catherine Est (Ouimetoscope et Nationoscope)

2. Condo Ouimetoscope, 2013

100

CINEMA ARCHITECTURE AT RISK EXPERIENCES AND CONSERVATION PROJECTS SUSANNA CACCIA

That cinemas are buildings at risk is shown by the numerous resounding appeals for their conservation that we hear all around us. These heartfelt appeals come from nostalgic film personalities, actors and directors, who take turns in lending their faces to campaigns aimed at making people aware of the need to safeguard these pieces of our history. But how can we prevent the slow decline of what seems by now an industry doomed to failure, how can we convince the owners and managers of thousands of movie houses all over the land not to close down businesses that appear to be completely unprofitable nowadays? Despite the repeated alarms of scholars and cinema-lovers worldwide, alarms that in the past have taken the form of exhibitions, publications and seminars, we are losing this important part of our cultural heritage. Cinemas are being closed and in their place we find supermarkets, malls, bingo halls and who knows what else. Shelves covered with tshirts, long walls full of shoes on show and frozen foods have replaced the stuccoes and decorative panels on the walls of these buildings. So while in Italy we are struggling to prevent the film industry from breathing its last breath, the same thing is happening to its cathedrals. An awareness of this risk does not mean trying to save the cinema-building at all costs, but it does seem necessary to recognize the importance of this precious architectural heritage: ours is the obligation to find a way to an understanding of what we must do to safeguard and conserve this 20th â&#x20AC;&#x201C; century icon. More than thirty years had passed from the official rise of cinema to the Olympus of the arts when in the thick of cultural debate an article by Carlo Ludovico Ragghianti, Cinematografo rigoroso, conferred the dignity of figurative art to film1. And in the same lapse of time this new art found places for it projections, the cinema buildings which had by then achieved perfection and specialization in form and function and populated the urban scene. Cinemas became an organizing element of the urban space, modern ago C.L. Ragghianti, Cinematografo rigoroso (1933), in C.L. Ragghianti, ÂŤCinema arte figurativaÂť, Einaudi, Tourin, 1952, p. 18. About Ragghianti, see M. Scotini, Carlo Ludovico Ragghianti and the cinematogrphic character of vision, Charta, Milan, 2000; R. Bruno (a c. di), Ragghianti critico e politico, Franco Angeli, Milan, 2004. 1

121

Cinema architecture at risk. Experiences and conservation projects

1. Rome, Airone Cinema (A. Libera, E. Montuori, 1953)

2. Tourin, Ghersi Cinema (C. Ceresa, 1916)

ràs, meeting-places for social exchange, even “cathedrals” in the contemporary city2. Cinema and City. Cinema and Architecture. Relationships that criticism has thoroughly investigated, in all their reciprocity, their infinity of possible co-penetrations. A close tie this, between filmic space, architectural space and urban space, which the Lumière brothers themselves had made evident from the start in the majestic Cinèmatographe Géant that they set up in the Champs-de-Mars for the Paris Universal Exposition in 1900, proving that architecture can become a filmic object and cinema an architectural object3. The encounter between cinema and the city has witnessed exemplary moments in movies like Buster Keaton’s The Cameraman (1928) and Dziga Vertov’s Man with a Movie Camera (1929), which have contributed to making cinema one of the most significant vehicles for shaping the collective image of the city. Films like Fellini’s Rome and Woody Allen’s New York4 recount cinema as a typically urban phenomenon, which as such has “a privileged place in the city-form, making a decisive contribution to qualifying the modern and post-modern popular imagerie in a prevalently urban, or better metropolitan, sense”5. The cinema/architecture relation can in fact be viewed from a different angle, specular and complementary to the one consolidated by now in much of the critical literature. This is a perspective that aims at understanding how the “cinema is in the city”, how F. Zeri, Architettura. Le cattedrali del cinema. I favolosi templi moderni, in «L’Europeo», XXXVII, n. 36, 1981. E. Toulet, Cinématographe, invention du siècle, Gallimard, Paris, 1988. 4 Among the literature on the subject, see the volume contained in the series «Universale di Architettura» edited by Bruno Zevi: A. Licata, E. Mariani-Travi, La città e il cinema, Laboratorio Morseletto, Vicenza, 2000. 5 A. Costa, Il cinema e le arti visive, Einaudi, Turin, 2002, p. 117. 2 3

122

REDISCOVERING CINEMA ARCHITECTURE AND ITS VALUE IN MALTA’S SOCIAL LANDSCAPE MARC ZIMMERMANN

Intrinsic Links and Unchecked Losses Many fond recollections of ‘the talkies’ (as they are still affectionately referred to in Malta1) are childhood memories. Whether it was a first date or a memorable screen kiss, managing to sneak into a show undetected, or treating oneself to long-since vanished sweets, falling in love with the hero/ine on screen, or deciding to become a cowboy when we grew up, anything could happen at the cinema. In darkened auditoria we watched films the way they were meant to be enjoyed, as part of a rapt audience, delighting in entertainment that was often ‘mass-produced’ but never meaningless, cocooned in a venue that formed a crucial part of the overall experience, as much as the film itself or the shared experience. Whether it was a lavish Golden Age cinema in Valletta or Sliema, a neglected neighbourhood ‘fleapit’, or a parish hall, the unique feel of cinemas and their characteristic interiors has formed an indispensable part of enjoying movies since their arrival in Malta in 1897. As a key facet of this shared heritage, permeating many aspects of everyday life, cinemas have always played an important role, even though their fabric was often neglected and discarded. The ravages of war2, and subsequently the interests of mass tourism, have been exploited as excuses to further scar the architectural landscape. Without a structured approach in their preservation, many of the buildings surviving today may vanish rather sooner than later. There remains a distinct and widespread lack of consciousness – among both decision makers and the general public – of the fact that built heritage as a whole is a precious, finite and non-renewable resource. Consequently, considerable sections of the islands3 have been irreversibly altered through unchecked property speculation. The Art Deco Locally this is spelled tokis in a Maltese corruption of the English colloquialism ‘talkies’ (abbr. from ‘talking pictures’). During WWII Malta suffered sustained bombings that obliterated numerous cinemas and theatres, including the Gaiety (Sliema), Regent and Opera House (both Valletta). 3 Of the islands comprising the Maltese archipelago, Malta, Gozo and Comino (as well as several uninhabited islets), only Malta and Gozo sustain(ed) cinemas. 1 2

139

Rediscovering Cinema Architecture and its Value in Maltaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Social Landscape

1. Carlton (Sliema) screening The Mikado and Bulldog Drummondâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Peril, c.1939

140

CINEMA ARCHITECTURE IN ITALY MARIA ADRIANA GIUSTI

For most people the word “cinema” recalls the “movie”1: stories, tales, emotions. Not so clear is the knowledge of where these movies were seen, in other words their “container”, the architecture which developed together with and for the cinema. Till now the history of architecture has carried out few studies in the field of cinema architecture, except for some rare monographic contributions. Apparently, the difficulties in facing this theme are mainly due to the ambiguity of its name: in the Italian language, Cinema (abbreviation of cinematograph), means both the screening appliances – that is the art, technique, cinematographic industry – and the place where the screening takes place: content and container together. For this reason, it is necessary to analyze those peculiar aspects of this kind of architecture, that especially developed between the first and the second half of the 20th century and is now going through a critical period. Today the cinema is delocalizing, preferring commercial and suburban areas to the city centres; the cinema hall is transforming into a multiplex, and is being used for different purposes, thus abandoning its original function. The situation is even worse due to the lack of knowledge of this phenomenon, which would be essential for its preservation and enhancement. For this reason, these studies on the Italian cinemas represent only the first step, the starting point of a research effort which aims at assembling, analyzing, organizing and finally resetting the state of the art, while denouncing the preservation level (state of decay, alteration, destruction) of such cultural heritage. The collected case studies are the result of a documentary research, certified by direct surveys carried out by research groups of various Italian universities; a sample selection of still ongoing research, whose final aim is a systematic, computerized and sharable knowledge, even at the international level, such as what was created by the Cinema and Theatre Association of London. We recall, in the introduction, some significant stages of the process, from the late nineteenth century, embraces the next century: from pre-cinema to cinema, from silent 1 Italians use the word “film” instead of “movie”, see: Maria Adriana Giusti, Susanna Caccia, Cinema in Italia. Sguardi sull’architettura del Novecento, Maschietto Editore, 2007.

157

Cinema architecture in Italy

1. Palermo, Astoria Cinema (S. Caronia Roberti, 1953)

films to sound, from black and white to color, each period has seen featuring some central places, in which the cinema has emerged as the idea of modernity, new technologies and communication strategies, transforming images and rituals of the city. Because the cinema hall is the most visible sign of a production cycle that begins in the halls of pose, with mounting, special effects, sound, set design, the camera. Beyond cinema, the profile of the structures that specialize more and more in film production. In the early days, Turin is the reference of the Italian and European cinema, for the film industry. Where, at the theater “Vittorio Emanuele”, in 1914, is projected for the first time “Cabiria”, the film by Giovanni Pastrone, with intertitles by Gabriele d’Annunzio. The film industry germinates in the flow of media production of the fascist regime that pushes to a autarchic product able to juxtapose to the success of American cinema. In the 30s we developed a series of sites: the cinema establishments Tirrenia Film made in 1933 on plan of Antonio Valente, which produce propaganda films and since 1937, Cinecittà Studios, a complex of studios located along the Tuscolana in Rome. From 1940 he moved to Rome also the Company’s film production and distribution, (Italian film company Lux), founded in Turin 158

FROM ARCADES TO SHOPPING MALLS: PRESERVATION OF BEYOGLU CINEMAS EVINC DOGAN

Introductıon This paper approaches to the relationship between cinema and architecture from the historical perpective for conservation and urban trasformation and explores the spaces of cinema in Istanbul that are located in the arcades of Beyoglu. Most of the arcades together with cinema or theatre buildings in Beyoglu started to be built in the 19th century. Therefore, the essay looks at 19th century Paris and its arcades through the eyes of Walter Benjamin to stress this affinity. In the unfinished Arcades Project of Benjamin, the 19th century arcades in Paris are scrutinized with respect to the architecture, the technology and the consumption culture as the precursors of modernity. Thus, the paper aims to tell the story of Beyoglu arcades starting with modernization and Westernization movements in the 19th century. The transformation of the 19th century arcades in Beyoglu into shopping malls opens the discussion for their use today. At this point, the relationship between the consumption culture and shopping is reified through the example of arcades. The cinemas have significant functions in Beyoglu’s everydaylife. Arcades foster this meaning through the discourse on commodification of culture and space. Thus, the paper firstly gives a snapshot to Benjamin’s notion of arcades in search of common grounds of 19th century arcades, and then gives a portrayal of the Beyoglu arcades and their cinemas, which are chosen as Elhamra Atlas and Emek for this paper. In the last part, the function and use of arcades are discussed taking a closer look at the recent politics on urban transformation and revitalization projects. Walter Benjamin and arcades of 19th Century The rise of art nouveau and the use of iron and glass gave its shape to the arcade and introduced this shopping place to the city life in Paris Benjamin defines the arcade as a small city in the city itself ‘a city, a word in miniature’1. According to him, the arcades are Walter Benjamin, Illustrated Guide to Paris in Arcades Project, transl. Howard Eiland, Kevin Mclaughlin, Expose of 1935, Cambridge, MA, Belknap Press, Harvard UP, 1999, p. 3. 1

169

From arcades to shopping malls: preservation of beyoglu cinemas

‘the most important architecture of the nineteenth century’2. Arcades provided a safe and convenient place for shopping beyond the quality of available public spaces and streets. The arcade was primarily planned to accommodate shops, thus it is a highlight in the evolution of shopping experience. It creates its own rituals as it creates spaces for all seasons’ use, free from vehicle traffic3. In other words, the arcades were the ‘first organized places of capitalist consumption’4. Benjamin considers arcades as a monument of “dream and wish image of the collective” with respect to the shopping experience5. Here the dream and wish is linked to the phantasmagoria of the commodity culture and 19th century spectacle of world exhibitions. The dreams are embodied in commodities. Harvey claims that desire is associated with ‘commodity fetishism’ that is defined in Marxist theory6. Plant interprets the concept not in terms of production and consumption relationship, as defined by Marx, but in terms of experiences, senses, desires, and artistic creativity7. The arcades could be considered as a part of the ‘lived experience of a worldwide’ hence they ‘had been imitated throughout the world from Cleveland to Istanbul…’8. The heyday of arcades lasted till the end of the 19th century. The 20th century introduced large enclosed shopping centres. Although their function and use were similar to those of the arcades they could never replace them. The 19th century arcades became a historical building type but they did not disappear. The corridors of shops, theatres and galleries continued to be used in different ways9. With the rise of shopping malls, the movie theatres have become more modernized, comfortable and equipped with the latest audio and visual technology. Therefore the habit of watching a movie has become a consumption habit as a part of the whole shopping eperience that people go, park their cars easily, shop and eat at the mall and go to the cinema as a leisure activity10. Arcades of Beyoglu Paris of 19th century was emblematic of modernity. Although one cannot think of Istanbul of Ottoman Empire as such, it staged a kind of modernity through the Westernization, social and spatial transformation11. In the 19th century, Beyoglu (or “Pera” referring to Ivi, Do 7, p. 834. Miray Ozkan, Transformation Of The Arcades In Beyoğlu, Middle East Technical University, Ankara, May 2008, p. 2. 4 Ivi, p. 58 5 Walter Benjamin, ibid., p. 4. 6 David Harvey, Spaces of Hope, Berkeley, University of California Press, 2000, p. 117. 7 Sadie Plant, The Most Radical Gesture: The Situationist International in a Postmodern Age, London, Routledge, 1992, p. 12. 8 Susan Buck-Morss, The dialectics of seeing: Walter Benjamin and the Arcades project, Cambridge, Mass., London, MIT Press, 1989, pp. 39-40. 9 Buket Ergun Kocaili, Evolution Of Shopping Malls: Recent Trends And The Question Of Regeneration, Çankaya University, Ankara, January 2010, p. 48. 10 Evrim Özkan Töre, A Wheel for the Cultural Economy in Istanbul: Film Industry, Structural Features, Threats, Opportunities and Policy Implications Research Report in «Istanbul Kültür Mirası ve Kültür Ekonomisi Envanteri 2010». December 2010, pp. 22-23. 11 Nezih Erdogan, The Spectator in the Making: Modernity and Cinema in Istanbul 1896-1928 in «Orienting Istanbul Cultural Capital Of 2 3

170

THE ARCHITECTURE OF NORTHERN AFRICA CINEMA THEATERS FROM THEIR ORIGINS TO THE SECOND WORLD WAR EZIO GODOLI

In northern African countries cinemas’ closure, transformation for other uses and demolition were mainly caused by the drop in audiences (which, however, did not reach critical European levels) but a significant role was also played by speculation and political motives. The grounds occupied by open-air cinemas, which formed part of amusement parks peculiar to the hotter Mediterranean countries were the first to fall prey to speculation on account of the considerable value of their grounds, generally situated in relatively central areas. The abandon and destruction of these amusement parks, largely consisting of open-air cinemas sometimes equipped with additional spaces for various catering businesses provided continuously during screening, led to the loss of documents of great interest to the history of customs and daily life in Arab countries but also to the study of typologies for shows and entertainment. Malicious – yet plausible – interpretations insinuated that the authoritarian regimes’ concern in eliminating spaces capable – if need be – of accommodating large popular meetings and fostering a free political debate induced them to decree their decision to demolish cinemas of great capacity with suspiciously quick procedures. For example, the demolition in the 1970s of the Vox cinema in Casablanca designed by the architect Marius Boyer and inaugurated in December 1935: a monumental presence in the downtown business hub which, in is sloping stalls and two galleries, could accommodate 2000 spectators on unusually wide, comfortable armchairs. Presented as the “the largest cinema in Casablanca and Morocco and one of the largest in northern Africa”1, the Vox was equipped to also accommodate major music-hall performances, concerts, boxing matches, etc. The absence of an air conditioning system was compensated by the “roof opening halfway down the middle”: this enabled shows to be held in Casablanca in summer; it was cooler at the VOX on the hottest summer evening than in any perfectly ventilated venue”2. Despite its decimation, the northern African cinemas’ architectural heritage, from Egypt Les beaux cinema casablancais. Le Vox. La Plus grande salle du Maroc 2000 places à ciel ouvert, in Edouard Sarrat, «Le Maroc en 1938, Edition de l’Afrique du Nord Illustrée», Casablanca 1938, p. 79. 2 Ibidem. 1

189

The architecture of northern Africa cinema theaters from their origins to the Second World War

1. Casablanca, Cinema Rialto, rue Roget (today Mohamed el-Quorri) and rue Claude, arch. Pierre Jabin, 1929-30, general view (photo by E. Godoli)

190

Edizioni ETS Piazza Carrara, 16-19, I-56126 Pisa info@edizioniets.com - www.edizioniets.com Finito di stampare nel mese di novembre 2013

Susanna Caccia

Screen savers

Susanna Caccia (editor) Evinc Dogan Kjell Furberg Marta García Falcó Maria Adriana Giusti Ezio Godoli Richard Gray Patricia Méndez Pierre Pageau Marc Zimmermann

Screen savers

Cinema’s preservation in the international scene edited by Susanna Caccia

€ 22,00

ETS

Edizioni ETS