Origins of the Moving Picture Industry

Our first California adventure was just a bit odd.  As most people know, California is the center of the motion picture industry not only in the USA, but also for most of the rest of the world.  We experienced the beginnings of the billion dollar industry Saturday night in Niles, California.   As the moving pictures captured more and more interest, the phenomena swept the country in the early 20th century, and first thousands and then millions of ordinary people spent their leisure time going to see what quickly became called 'the movies'.  The demand for product was intense since  initially each 'picture' was usually only a few minutes long could only be shown for a few days in the new movie houses before audiences would begin clamoring for different movies.

Chaplin is the second from the left on the first row.

The first moving picture camera was developed by Edison, and he zealously guarded his camera and patents to the point of sending thugs out to beat up and terrorize filmmakers to kick back a sum for just using cameras they had purchased.  Early films were made in New Jersey, New York and Chicago.  Even the very best cameras only worked with consistent quality in strong sunlight.  To escape Edison's thugs, and the winter weather of New York, New Jersey and Chicago, filmmakers began coming to sunny California.  Niles, California was the new home of Essanay Films out of Chicago.    (Essanay, the film company, which set up to make movies in Niles, was owned by a man named Shor and Broncho Billy Anderson - the first initials of their last names are how they named their film company.) Their first year in California, one of their feature players was a young Englishman straight from vaudeville called Charlie Chaplin.  They paid him $125 a week; a pretty good salary in 1914.  By 1915 he was so popular, he could command $500 a week.   The Tramp, one of his most famous films, was made his first year in Niles.  Five years after this beginning, Chaplin was able to write, direct, and star in his own films, and he made more than $500,000 pre-income tax dollars each year.  He was truly the movies first superstar.

In the background of the above picture is the building which today is the  Niles Silent Movie Theater,. This is a non-profit enterprise which shows two hours of silent films every Saturday night.  For $5.00 a ticket plus $1.00 snacks, you can sit on original hard wooden theater chairs, listen to a live piano

player, and watch cutting edge entertainment circa 1914.  This evening was interesting on several levels.  First, I've only seen a very limited number of silent movies on the 'big screen'.  Second, this was the kick-off to 'Chaplin Week' by this struggling non-profit which is valiantly trying to put their organization, their theater, and their projects into the 'big time' of film restoration and reclamation.  Third, this was film presentation interspersed with commentary by a silent film historian.  As Sarah quipped, it was just like TCM come to life with a Robert Osborne clone.  The film commentator was excellent, and we really enjoyed both him and the piano player who improvised her play as the films were running.  

However, it quickly became obvious the people running the organization are their own worst enemy.  The current project is to raise $30,000 to restore Chaplin's 1915 film, The Champ, made by Essanay Studios in Niles.  There were probably 200 people in attendance Saturday night, and the woman who is obviously the 'wheel' in the non-profit announced they had been given Broncho Billy Anderson's honorary Oscar.   As a fund raiser for the Chaplin film restoration, the 'wheel' carrying her TWO chihuahuas , announced, "During tonight's intermission for a $10 donation, you can have your picture taken with the Oscar.  Sarah and I looked at each other, and we both immediately thought, "Oh boy, I want to do THAT!"

Intermission comes, and we wander all over the place looking for where the pictures are being taken.  No soap.  Can't find anyone taking pictures.  I finally corralled one of the people who long-windedly insisted on giving us the history of the theater and the turn of the century film industry in Niles, prior to the start of the films, and asked,  "Where are you taking the Oscar pictures?"
"Oh, well, let's find Mike and see." (Mike was their photographer - a guy with a camera slung around his neck in a faded t-shirt and cargo shorts.)
"Mike, here's some people that want their picture taken with the Oscar."
"Bob, nobody told me in advance we were going to do this.  Let's just move some of these cameras out
of the way, and then we can get started.  I have to find a place to take the pictures."

Ten minutes later, after rearranging one of the 'rooms' of the museum, they were finally ready to take the pictures.  Turns out that I was the only person willing to ask about the pictures, and when they FINALLY started snapping the pictures, several other people formed a line and paid their $10.  That's Broncho Billy Anderson in the background behind Sarah - who was one of the first cowboy stars of the silent era.  I had no idea he actually was the owner of a film company.  That's a real Oscar.  According to Sarah, it was heavy coming in at about five or six pounds.  I guess if I had just shrugged off the picture, they wouldn't have raised a dime for their restoration from one of their biggest audiences.

It was a fun evening, but I must admit we left right after this picture was taken.  What had been billed as a two hour evening was already pushing three hours at the end of the intermission thanks to the lack of preparation of their opening remarks and their intermission fund raiser.  Plus, even with the pillows we brought, our bottoms were numb from those hard wooden chairs.

1967 Lives Again!

It all started with a blue leather recliner; actually, a two toned blue leather recliner.  Furnishing a house with cast off furniture is a challenge I take up with every new location.  It's one of my favorite things to do as we move around.  It is a treasure hunt.  This time, Drake really threw me a curve ball when he fell in love with the very first piece of furniture he saw:  a cobalt blue "Franklin" recliner.  Actually, half of it is four shades lighter.  We finally realized the reason the chair felt so wonderful to Drake was it had been re-stuffed and re-upholstered.  Little problem - the new blue leather doesn't exactly match the old blue vinyl, but....IT'S SO COMFORTABLE.  In fairness, I'm the one who spotted this $25 chair in the myriad of craiglistings, and the owner was one of the people willing to see me the first afternoon we arrived in town.

Now, I'm stuck with a cobalt blue/sky blue recliner.  Yes, sort of like those powder blue tuxes of the 1980's; such a train wreck, and you can't stop staring trying to decide if you like it or not.  When I found the blue plaid sofa, it seemed like kismet, or destiny, or let's face it, just one up-man-ship to show Drake I can rise to any occasion.  The sofa first attracted me because the Craigslist ad was written as if the sofa was talking.  A very unusual approach to be taken by a seller, and a bold one.  It enchanted me enough I kept coming back to it.  My original idea was to downplay the blue recliner by looking for a boring neutral microfiber or leather couch.   In an instance of insane reasoning, I thought I could melt the blue chair into the background by surrounding it with neutral pieces.  Yeah, in a 15 x 15 living area, that would be happening.

As I realized I needed to make the blue monster a 'feature', the more intrigued I became with the idea of creating the authentic post mid century modern look.  Now I have a living room not "from 1957 but from 1967.  It is not 'cool'; it is not 'hip', but it is comfortable and, by gum, it matches!  If you remember, matching was a hallmark of 1967 right down to the wallpaper.  Or, as Drake put it, "coordinated".  The rest of the furniture is pretty humdrum, but my California living room is a beacon of kitsch in a land of hipdom.