On a Tuesday morning in August 1931, almost 300 out-of-work musicians converged upon the Royal Arcade on Pilgrim Street. They had come to audition for the orchestra at a new cinema and some of them were desperate.
“We try our luck whenever we hear of any vacancies,” one man told the Evening Chronicle, “but when we visit any town there are already crowds of its own people looking for the same kind of work.” Across the country in the last two years, an estimated 15,000 musicians had lost their jobs. And everyone agreed that it was the ‘talkies’ that were to blame.
It hadn’t always been like this. For a decade after the Great War Newcastle had been well known for its cinema orchestras. The most illustrious one was at the beautiful Stoll Picture Theatre (which is now the equally beautiful Tyne Theatre and Opera House). But bands could also be found at places such as the Olympia cinema on Northumberland Road, and the Scala in Heaton. The New Westgate Picture House could boast the Rising Orchestra. And there were musicians at the Grainger Picture House too, and the Globe cinema in Gosforth (now the Gosforth Palace Chinese restaurant).
The city’s first full-length talkie was ‘The Singing Fool’, in which cinemagoers could not only see, but also hear Al Jolson perform ‘Sonny Boy.’ That film was shown at the Stoll in May 1929, and in anticipation of its arrival, all eleven members of the orchestra were handed their notice. The manager, Harry Samson, was realistic: “After seeing and hearing the best sound films,” he told the Evening Chronicle, “the silent picture seems painfully antique.”
Wept at his feet
The premiere took place on an unseasonably warm day, with the head of the chain, Sir Oswald Stoll, present in person. And the best tickets cost the equivalent of £5 in today’s money, which many people considered outrageous. But there were still long queues down Westgate Road. It was, the Sunday Sun announced, the “Triumph of the Talkies.” “Al Jolson Conquers Newcastle,” the newspaper went on. “Hundreds of men and women literally wept at his feet.”
The film ran until July, and then the Queen’s Hall in Northumberland Place began showing a talkie of its own. ‘Black Waters’ was the first British sound film to be shown in the country (even if it had been shot in Hollywood). And the orchestra at the cinema was itself given notice to make way for it. Some members fetched up in Consett after that, at the new Plaza Cinema. Others were offered positions in Whitley Bay. And some even went to a picture house in Aberdeen.
It was difficult to know what to do for the best. The Musicians Union proposed that cinemas be compelled to have orchestras. And concerts were held to raise funds for unemployed musicians or even give them something to do. One of those concerts filled the Empire Theatre on Newgate Street. While at the Grand Theatre in Byker, there was a performance by the Warrington Orchestra. This 30-strong ensemble of displaced instrumentalists had been put together by Charles Catcheside-Warrington, a former music hall star and early recording artist now known for his devotion to the music of the North East.
No more silents
Some orchestras clung on despite the changes. When the New Westgate Picture House went over to sound in November 1929, the musicians there were retained and a notice to that effect was applauded by the audience when it appeared on the screen. The conductor was Anton Rawson, who had lately been entertaining holidaymakers on Great Yarmouth’s Britannia Pier. But he was the exception.
The Duke and Duchess of York visited Alfred Hitchcock while he was making his very first talkie. And Gainsborough, one of the country’s largest studios, announced that it wouldn’t be making any more silent films.
Both the Grainger Picture House and the Electric Palace in Heaton went over to sound in December 1929. When the Grey Street Picture House did the same, it dispensed with its orchestra straight away. And despite its admirable intentions, the New Westgate Picture House found itself dispensing with Anton Rawson only a few weeks later.
By mid-1930, the only cinema orchestra left in Newcastle was the one at the Pavilion cinema on Westgate Road. The conductor there was Max Swart, a violinist, who had been born in Amsterdam. His band was kept on, even after the cinema began showing talkies. But it would now play music between, and not during, the films.
Mechanical music
Then, in early-1931, it was announced that the orchestra would be leaving the Pavilion after all. “It’s the fault of the public,” Mr Swart told the Northern Mail. “The majority of them evidently are quite satisfied with mechanical music. There will soon be live music only in cafés and variety halls.”
The new orchestra, in which all those displaced musicians had hoped to play, was at the Paramount cinema, just up from the Royal Arcade, and it opened a fortnight after the audition, on 7 September 1931. The cinema was a huge and lavish place, capable of accommodating more than 2,000 people. It had a Bechstein piano, a mighty Wurlitzer organ, and its own male voice choir. But the orchestra lasted barely two years before it too was disbanded.
It took a while, but most musicians eventually found other places to perform. Anton Rawson was one of them. He went to the Potteries after he left the New Westgate Picture House and soon became known as the ‘Singing Conductor.’ Max Swart, meanwhile, took his band to the King’s Theatre in Sunderland. And as he had himself as good as predicted, he also became musical director at a restaurant – Rinaldo’s, on Grainger Street in Newcastle, where he played for the diners three times a day.
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