I had a quick look at the facts on the job of movie-house ticket seller that Lovecraft once had in Providence.
The Lovecraft scholarship:
“Brobst has confirmed that HPL [Lovecraft] worked briefly as a ticket agent in a movie theater in downtown Providence” (An H.P. Lovecraft Encyclopedia, pp.24-25)
“I asked Harry K. Brobst about the story, and he confirmed it, stating that Lovecraft admitted to him that he held such a job and saying that he actually liked it at the start but that it did not last very long [this was] in the early days of the [Great] depression, perhaps 1929-30.” (S.T. Joshi, A Dreamer and a Visionary, p.317).
The context:
“In this era [1900-1929] Providence was a great show town, and vaudeville, burlesque, summer stock [theater], and movies rivaled sports for the attention of the populace. The major entertainment houses — all built during this time — were the elegant, all-purpose Albee (1919) […]; Fay’s Theater (1912), a popular vaudeville spot […]; the Strand (1915) […]; the Majestic (1917) […]; and Loew’s State Theater (1928), a splendidly appointed movie house […]. In addition to these, there were a half-dozen smaller, less glamorous entertainment houses in the central city.” (“The Age of Optimism: 1900-1929”, Providence City Archives website).
In 1921 there were… “five downtown Providence theatres: the Strand, the Emery, the Modern, Fays, and the Rialto” that showed the movie Chaplin’s The Kid (Gerald A. DeLuca).
Possible movie theaters in Providence in 1929:
UPMARKET:
MAJESTIC: 201 Washington Street, one of the leading first-run cinemas, wired for sound 1926, and “could seat 3,000″ — so they’d need a lot of ticket-takers.
STRAND: The Strand Theatre was located directly behind Providence’s Biltmore Hotel. It opened 12th June 1915 as a movie theatre […] Briefly known as the Paramount Theater in the 1930’s” (William Charles D’atri). Lovecraft liked the place very much, and had known and patronised it much in the later 1910s.
EMERY: Reopened 1926 on 79 Mathewson Street, “Completely refurnished, redecorated and re-established as a modern theatre, a marvel of the decorator’s art.”
VICTORY: aka Keith’s/Empire. 260 Westminster Street. Upmarket first-run movie theatre, renovated 1924.
RKO ALBEE: 320 Westminster Street, classy Hollywood movies, large and with luxurious decor.
MIDDLE MARKET:
FAYS: 60 Union Street at Fountain Street. Lively frequently changing mix of vaudeville and cinema, seems to have been an “all the family” theater.
CAPITOL: 569 Westminster, ill-fated, in a slow decline over the decades because just outside the downtown area.
DOWNMARKET:
MODERN: 440 Westminster Street, said to have specialised in “sensation” movies.
UPTOWN THEATRE: aka Columbus “[had] a long career as primarily a second-run [movie] house catering to a large adjacent ethnic Italian population in Providence’s Federal Hill neighborhood.” Unlikely, once you’ve read “The Haunter of the Dark”.
BIJOU / EMPIRE: 368 Westminster Street, which until 1930 seems to have been a dubious dive … “In a 1996 Providence Journal article on old Providence theatres, writer Michael Janusonis wrote that “…the hoity toities referred to it as ‘the sinkhole of depravity’ or just ‘The Sink’”.
It appears to have staged scantily-clad “musical revues” in the 1920s. Sometime in spring 1930 it became… “a second-run [movie] house and changed the name to the EMPIRE.” (Gerald A. DeLuca). “‘Cheri’ was one of the last musical revues to play the Bijou. That was in March 1930. Shortly after that Spitz [the owner] converted it into a second-run [movie] house and changed the name to the EMPIRE. It was under this title that the theatre operated until about six months ago [1949] when it was shuttered for good.” (Boxoffice magazine, January 7, 1950, via Gerald A. DeLuca) Not to be confused with the movie theater at 260 Westminster Street.
So there you have it. Take your pick. My hunch would be he was at the BIJOU/EMPIRE. It was hiring at the right time around March/April 1930 after a rename and makeover, and when the weather meant that Lovecraft was inclined to venture forth from his usual winter hermitage. The venue’s previous very seedy reputation might have meant it needed both brand new ticket-takers, and a certain level of sober “class” behind the glass. On a map it looks like it was a fairly short walk from his home, a walk of perhaps a mile and half.
The Great Depression had started 29th October 1929, and Lovecraft was not inclined to commit himself to venture out in the cold weather of a Nov-March New England winter. So April 1930 seems the likely date for his cinema job. Because he left on a trip to Charleston, S.C. on 28th April 1930 (“Account of a Visit to Charleston, S.C.”). “Lovecraft’s travels for the spring-summer of 1930 began in late April.” (S.T. Joshi, A Dreamer and a Visionary, p.285). One wonders if the cinema job of a few weeks in the early spring of 1930 would have given him the funds, toward the end of the month, to pay for his ticket on the long Charleston trip?
Further reading:
Roger Brett, Temples of Illusion: The Golden Age of Theaters in an American City, Brett Theatrical, 1976. (A “detailed history of all the old downtown area theatres of Providence from 1871 to 1950.” 309 pages).
Flickr set of photographs of 450 Rhode Island theaters and movie houses.
The original name was apparently “The Sink”, according to the contemporary Melvin Ballou Gilbert, in The Director, Volume 1, p.69. He recounts the genesis of the theater as a private venue set up by a group of men as a “midnight smoker”, in which the prettiest of the chorus and ballet girls were brought over in cabs after the show without changing from their scanty costumes…
“This [another membership venue] is the one fashionable organization of its kind in Providence where ladies are admitted to membership. … The younger male members of this flourishing club have set up a little theatre which they call “The Sink,”…”
Sorry, I mis-titled the article. I meant ticket seller, not ticket taker…
Lovecraft won a $25 prize for his review of “Image-Maker of Thebes” from Fay’s Theater in January 1917. RIHS has the papers of proprietor Edward M. Fay (1874-1964) [MSS 409] spanning the years 1928-71 and included payroll records for Capitol (1929-30), Carleton (1937-45), Majestic (later), Modern (1928-29), and Rialto (1934-35). RIHS also has the Strand Theater records spanning the years 1926-59 [MSS 152]. These all might be worth checking to see if Lovecraft’s name appears. It is possible that Fay met Lovecraft in 1917 and would have recalled him later when he was seeking employment. Brown Professor Robert Webb “Pat” Kenny (1902-1983) seems to have been the original source regarding Lovecraft’s job (recalling Lovecraft’s walking downtown to sell tickets). Kenny was a 1925 graduate (B.A.) of Brown having attended there 1921-25. He was an instructor in the English Department in 1925-26, received his M.A. in 1926, and then spent two years at Northeastern in Boston in 1926-28, before returning to Brown in 1928. He stayed at Brown 1928-71, receiving his Ph.D. in 1934. In 1947-52 he served as Dean. He was on leave for military service both during World War II and the Korean conflict. He received an essay in Jay Barry’s book GENTLEMEN UNDER THE ELMS (1982). It might be worth checking Providence directories to see where Kenny lived in 1925-26 and 1928+. Perhaps one of his addresses would have been on the direct route from 10 Barnes Street to downtown. I don’t think it’s likely that Lovecraft held this job after his removal to 66 College Street in 1933. Great graphic for your essay on this topic! I hope more will eventually be discovered on this subject. P.S. Kenny’s son Robert Webb Kenny Jr. (1932-2004) (B.A., Brown, 1955) was a military historian and worked at Brown’s Ann Mary Brown Memorial Library from 1992 onward. I believe there is a grandson Robert Webb Kenny III still living in Rhode Island.
I’ve been taking too much space on your blog of late, but you’ve been writing about some biographical issues that fascinate me. I think your thesis that Lovecraft worked briefly at the Bijou/Empire in the early spring of 1930 is as good as any and just wanted to point out some other possibilities. Your point that Lovecraft would have had difficulty holding a downtown Providence job over the winter is well-taken: the hike from 10 Barnes Street is significantly longer than that from 66 College Street and resorting to streetcars would probably have taken a significant chunk out of his earnings. On the other hand, I think Lovecraft customarily did most of his shopping at a market at the foot of Thomas Street even in his 10 Barnes Street days so he probably had to get out on occasional cold days. I doubt that Professor Kenny was an acquaintance of Lovecraft–Kenny merely recognized the man. When L. Sprague de Camp and his wife stayed at The Minden on Providence’s East Side in 1971 to research his Lovecraft biography, he hosted a dinner one night for some of the local Lovecraft people. (The Minden was in its decline as a residential hotel in those days and some people commented that Sprague and his wife were the biggest excitement to hit the Minden in decades. I think It has since become a college dorm.) In any case, at one point, during the dinner, our dour waiter, an older man, observing the general topic of conversation, commented that he used to see Lovecraft on the street all the time. I wish when I was a student at Brown in 1970-72 I had had the time to pursue local links–some of the members of the original Providence Amateur Press Club in 1914-16 were then still living. Instead, I waited to learn this from vital records ca. 2008. Your idea of a Lovecraft timeline or a “Lovecraft Day By Day” is an excellent one & I hope there is software that will make it easier. The gaps in such a timeline might reveal some blanks in our knowledge of Lovecraft. The article on Professor Kenny in GENTLEMEN UNDER THE ELMS has some information about Brown students and “The Sink” in the 1920s. After World War II, returning GIs flooded Brown, and Dean Kenny regularly had to go to the police station in downtown Providence on Saturday nights to bail them out (as a result of too much weekend celebration after a demanding week of classwork). Did a lonely Lovecraft ever visit “The Sink”? The record sayeth not. Barlow wrote of Lovecraft, in a 1950 letter to August Derleth, as the most sexless individual he had ever known, so perhaps the likeliest speculation is that Lovecraft felt no need/desire to visit the Bijou. Despite his limited means, Lovecraft was a fastidious dresser and this probably gave him an advantage over other persons seeking employment as a ticket-seller in the depths of the Depression in Providence. I wonder whether he answered an advertisement or merely responded to a card posted in the theater window. If Lovecraft was known Eddie Fay from his 1917 prize-winning, that would possibly have given him a leg up in getting a job at one of Fay’s movie houses. But enough from me. I enjoy your blog! Ken F.
>”I’ve been taking too much space on your blog of late”
You’re more than welcome, Ken. I’m honoured to have a scholar of your stature here. I welcome more suggestions on essay topics.
In your Lovecraftian research have you ever looked into Charles Walter Stetson (1858-1911)? Lovecraft mentions him once in the letters. Providence weird artist, later a Symbolist and befriended by Elihu Vedder. Have a look at his late “After the bath”, also “Easter offering”, “Misericordia Crossing”, “Moonlight Procession” online via Google Images. He doesn’t ever seem to have been noticed by the Lovecraftians, but I’m interested in how Lovecraft might have known his art (if he did).
>I wish when I was a student at Brown in 1970-72 I had had the time to pursue local links
But if we knew it all it wouldn’t be fun. It’s the way of the world that things get lost, and the next generation has to come along and try to figure it out. It’s their gift to us, in a way, since we grow through striving to reach back to them. They carry on teaching us, not only in the legacy they leave, but also in the tasks they inadvertently set us.
David,
I don’t know of any Lovecraft connection with Charles Walter Stetson. The images which you cite certainly look like they would have appealed to Lovecraft. I know that Stetson was the husband of Charlotte Perkins Gilman (1860-1935), who spent much of her early life in Providence. I sometimes wondered if there might have been some connection between Gilman and the Phillips family.
Awesome post! I’ve often wondered about this phase in Lovecraft’s checkered career history.
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