![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Syracuse trip
Aug. 22nd, 2013 01:47 pmI left the Syracuse University Campus about noon and made my way to the next items on my itinerary; three theatre buildings. I saw the Brighton (now the home of some kind of community support organization?), the Empire (not very recognizable; the whole first and second floor facade seems to have been replaced), and the Landmark. The Landmark was quite pretty, and the two-story grand entrance, with it's wheel-window at the top and surrounded by detailed terra cotta, reminded me of the Detroit's Michigan Theatre, now a parking garage. I drove from a very run-down looking part of town, with shuttered buildings and economically-disadvantaged-looking pedestrians through to what I'd guess was downtown Syracuse, with expensive stores in beautiful, preserved buildings.
I feel like I could be ok living in Syracuse. I didn't see a lot of it, but though it's only one-and-a-half times the size of Kenosha, it felt like a much bigger city. The college campus may be part of that.
On the way out of town, I photographed a couple sights from my other traveler's bible: Roadside America dot com. I have pictures of a large clock that counts perpetually downward from 24 to 0, which stands in honor of the creation of basketball's 24 second shot clock by a coach in Syracuse. I photographed what may be the only working traffic light in the US where Green is on top and red is on the bottom. (Can you imagine how confusing that must be for color-blind folks?) Near the light was a sculptural group of a family of what I take to be Irish immigrans, by the fact that this is a very Irish part of town. (On St. Patrick's Day, the intersection under the green-on-top light is painted green!) I tried to arrange a composition that made it look like they were pointing in shock at the strange light, but it was difficult to compose. *grins*
---
Next, I drove to Seneca. On the way there, I unexpectedly drove past the Finger Lakes Drive-in, which I, of course, stopped to photograph. Their sign has an old carbon-arc (I think) movie projector perched on top of their now-playing marquee! there was also a vintage Chevrolet parked outside the entrance.
In Seneca, I shot a couple more theatres. First was the Geneva, which has now become something called the "Kidventuredome". It does seem to still be a movie house. The marquee indicated that, as well as it being "the indoor fun kid play space", it shows cult movies. Clockwork Orange is coming on the 30th. "I'm not sure," I commented to Danae as I was going through photos, "that that's an appropriate Kidventure." I photographed a couple other beautiful old brick facades nearby, the moved on to my next destination, Smith's Opera House.
Built in 1894, Smith's may be the oldest theatre I've photographed. The next oldest I can think of is Calumet, Michigan's Calumet Theatre, built in 1900. Smith's is clearly a building of its era, predating the flamboyant deco of later movie palaces, and even the ornate cornucopia of terra cotta that covers theatres of the '10s or '20s. The facade is intricately constructed red brick, full of details like faux-columns with Greek capitals, balistrades across the center peak of the facade, and gorgeous wrought-iron screen over the central window. I would have loved to have seen the inside. Large terra cotta bas-relief portraits of Shakespeare and "E. Booth" take places of honor. How interesting to see Booth; I'm assuming it was Edwin Booth, whose brother assassinated president Lincoln. The whole Booth family was in acting, and Edwin managed to retain his fame even after Lincoln's death. Edwin died in 1893, so perhaps this bust was intended as a memorial to a famous actor.
After that, I photographed a large paint-on-brick mural of a sailboat floating on the surface of a body of water above a series of concentric circles encompassing some buildings, flowers, and a colonial era US flag (I'm not sure what it was all about either!), and a YMCA building signed in a very unusual font in sculpted terra-cotta. Then I was on the road again.
---
My next stop was Palmyra, where Mormonism got its beginning. I found the visitor's center at the site were Moroni buired the golden tablets that Joseph Smith retrieved, but I didn't go in. I photographed a large granite carving of the Book of Mormon that stood nearby, but I misremembered the site description from Roadside America and thought that was all there was to it. As it turns out, if I'd have gone inside, I could have seen the actual hill where the tablets were, and a 1935 statue of Moroni on a 25 foot column of white granite. I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get the full experience. I guess I felt a little intrusive too, walking into a religious site purely as a non-faithful spectator. This may be ironic, given the usual operating procedures of Mormon missionaries. I do wish I'd seen that statue and the hill.
---
I headed toward Rochester, but happened to drive by a small park focused on a portion of the Erie Canal. I stopped to wander and found what signage described as one of the oldest iron bridges in the country. It had been moved from its nearby place over the canal at one point in time and set up with between a couple of ramps allowing access to walk under and over it. In the same park were stone supports which once held the large wooden trough that carried the canal over a gap, and lock and dam number 29 on a still-functioning portion of a newer canal. I'm not quite sure which canal it is; perhaps the New York State Barge Canal? I'll figure it out when I have more time to investigate. It was a neat park, and I spent a while photographing the various water features, including an old dam that made a nice two-tiered waterfall and what might have been a hydroelectric generator building, where water flowed under and in on one side and rushed noisily out a much lower tailrace below it on the other.
---
From there, I drove to Rochester, where I photographed a few more theatres. I saw one that seems to simply called "Cinema" (a small single-screen house open since 1915), the Monroe (its auditorium is demolished, but the facade stands), and the Little. The Little was one of the most visually striking theatres I've seen. It's polished black terra cotta facade reminds me a lot of the Rivoli in Cedarburg, Wisconsin. Only superficially though. The Rivoli is all black vitrolite, whereas the Little is black terra cotta. At least, that's what it's Cinema Treasures page says. I don't know that I've ever seen black terra cotta before. Certainly not so much of it. But the whole effect is really sharp, and very '30s Moderne. I'm really glad I stopped to see it.
I'd planned to stop and see the table that The Fox Sisters used in their seances. The infamous trio played a major role in the creation of the spiritualism movement in the 1800s, and when one of them finally admitted that they'd been perpetrating a hoax for decades it did little to dissuade other practitioners. But the table was on display in the public library, and it would have been very difficult to find parking and it wasn't clear the library was open. Instead, I drove on to a monument erected nearby in honor of the same sisters. Erected in 1927, the granite obelisk now stands near the door of something that might be a half-way house or long-term low-rent hotel. A group of four people were hanging out on the benches on either side of the monument. I said hi and shook hands with one man as I worked. A woman asked if I knew what the monument was for, and I told her that it was for the Fox sisters, who'd done seances and things back in the 1800s. She nodded, saying "Yes, spritualism." The first man seemed astonished at this, commenting that he'd been around for years and had never known what it was! It reminded me of a theatre I photographed in Syracuse. I'd been shooting a pretty terra cotta eagle detail near the roofline, and a passer-by looked up and commented "Cool, I'd never noticed that before!"
---
From there, I drove to a cemetery that holds the body of a man who, by some theories, might have been Jack the Ripper. He was a doctor who moved to Rochester from England after the murders happened. But I couldn't get to it; the cemetery was closed. I seem to have bad luck with famous graves; in Metropolis, Illinois, I got in to the cemetery but was simply unable to find the grave of the Birdman of Alcatraz.
Anyway, my next stop was High Falls. This is an 80-foot waterfall on the Genessee River that once served as a power-source for the major early industry of Rochester. There's a foot bridge out over the gorge that provides a very nice view of the falls and the area below, as well as a railroad bridge that spans the river just upstream. I got a nice shot of a group of locomotives crossing the bridge as I meandered across, photographing falling water, industrial remains, and rainbows in the mist. Before making it to the bridge, I'd wandered out onto a fenced-off viewing platform (the fence was down at one corner which I took as an invitation) with hopes of seeing a good view of the falls. It turned out not to afford such a view, so I was glad to find the bridge later on. What was neat about the platform was a fenced off pit that dropped down several stories, past a channel admitting a rush of water, and down to a far below floor. A sign indicated that this was a tailrace for a water-powered mill, back during the days of water-powered industry. I ended up spending quite a while walking around and photographing the site.
I should mention, too, the amazing Times Square building that has enormous, powerful Art Deco wings reaching high up toward the sky. When I first saw it, I was awe-struck. I pulled over to the side of the road immediately to take a few shots. I wish I'd had more time to see it, and the architecture of Rochester in general. It was a really beautiful place!
And that was about the end of my trip. I had a few more things on my list, but it was getting dark. I called![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lisagems to catch up a bit since I was in the states, then drove westward toward Canada and Hamilton once again. The border crossing was easy. Oddly enough, I was passed by the same customs agent who saw me on the way east. Do they work both sides of the border? Traffic was horrible on the QEW due to road construction and added an hour or so to my trip, but I finally made it home around eleven and flopped into a warm bed with my wonderful kitty.
I feel like I could be ok living in Syracuse. I didn't see a lot of it, but though it's only one-and-a-half times the size of Kenosha, it felt like a much bigger city. The college campus may be part of that.
On the way out of town, I photographed a couple sights from my other traveler's bible: Roadside America dot com. I have pictures of a large clock that counts perpetually downward from 24 to 0, which stands in honor of the creation of basketball's 24 second shot clock by a coach in Syracuse. I photographed what may be the only working traffic light in the US where Green is on top and red is on the bottom. (Can you imagine how confusing that must be for color-blind folks?) Near the light was a sculptural group of a family of what I take to be Irish immigrans, by the fact that this is a very Irish part of town. (On St. Patrick's Day, the intersection under the green-on-top light is painted green!) I tried to arrange a composition that made it look like they were pointing in shock at the strange light, but it was difficult to compose. *grins*
---
Next, I drove to Seneca. On the way there, I unexpectedly drove past the Finger Lakes Drive-in, which I, of course, stopped to photograph. Their sign has an old carbon-arc (I think) movie projector perched on top of their now-playing marquee! there was also a vintage Chevrolet parked outside the entrance.
In Seneca, I shot a couple more theatres. First was the Geneva, which has now become something called the "Kidventuredome". It does seem to still be a movie house. The marquee indicated that, as well as it being "the indoor fun kid play space", it shows cult movies. Clockwork Orange is coming on the 30th. "I'm not sure," I commented to Danae as I was going through photos, "that that's an appropriate Kidventure." I photographed a couple other beautiful old brick facades nearby, the moved on to my next destination, Smith's Opera House.
Built in 1894, Smith's may be the oldest theatre I've photographed. The next oldest I can think of is Calumet, Michigan's Calumet Theatre, built in 1900. Smith's is clearly a building of its era, predating the flamboyant deco of later movie palaces, and even the ornate cornucopia of terra cotta that covers theatres of the '10s or '20s. The facade is intricately constructed red brick, full of details like faux-columns with Greek capitals, balistrades across the center peak of the facade, and gorgeous wrought-iron screen over the central window. I would have loved to have seen the inside. Large terra cotta bas-relief portraits of Shakespeare and "E. Booth" take places of honor. How interesting to see Booth; I'm assuming it was Edwin Booth, whose brother assassinated president Lincoln. The whole Booth family was in acting, and Edwin managed to retain his fame even after Lincoln's death. Edwin died in 1893, so perhaps this bust was intended as a memorial to a famous actor.
After that, I photographed a large paint-on-brick mural of a sailboat floating on the surface of a body of water above a series of concentric circles encompassing some buildings, flowers, and a colonial era US flag (I'm not sure what it was all about either!), and a YMCA building signed in a very unusual font in sculpted terra-cotta. Then I was on the road again.
---
My next stop was Palmyra, where Mormonism got its beginning. I found the visitor's center at the site were Moroni buired the golden tablets that Joseph Smith retrieved, but I didn't go in. I photographed a large granite carving of the Book of Mormon that stood nearby, but I misremembered the site description from Roadside America and thought that was all there was to it. As it turns out, if I'd have gone inside, I could have seen the actual hill where the tablets were, and a 1935 statue of Moroni on a 25 foot column of white granite. I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get the full experience. I guess I felt a little intrusive too, walking into a religious site purely as a non-faithful spectator. This may be ironic, given the usual operating procedures of Mormon missionaries. I do wish I'd seen that statue and the hill.
---
I headed toward Rochester, but happened to drive by a small park focused on a portion of the Erie Canal. I stopped to wander and found what signage described as one of the oldest iron bridges in the country. It had been moved from its nearby place over the canal at one point in time and set up with between a couple of ramps allowing access to walk under and over it. In the same park were stone supports which once held the large wooden trough that carried the canal over a gap, and lock and dam number 29 on a still-functioning portion of a newer canal. I'm not quite sure which canal it is; perhaps the New York State Barge Canal? I'll figure it out when I have more time to investigate. It was a neat park, and I spent a while photographing the various water features, including an old dam that made a nice two-tiered waterfall and what might have been a hydroelectric generator building, where water flowed under and in on one side and rushed noisily out a much lower tailrace below it on the other.
---
From there, I drove to Rochester, where I photographed a few more theatres. I saw one that seems to simply called "Cinema" (a small single-screen house open since 1915), the Monroe (its auditorium is demolished, but the facade stands), and the Little. The Little was one of the most visually striking theatres I've seen. It's polished black terra cotta facade reminds me a lot of the Rivoli in Cedarburg, Wisconsin. Only superficially though. The Rivoli is all black vitrolite, whereas the Little is black terra cotta. At least, that's what it's Cinema Treasures page says. I don't know that I've ever seen black terra cotta before. Certainly not so much of it. But the whole effect is really sharp, and very '30s Moderne. I'm really glad I stopped to see it.
I'd planned to stop and see the table that The Fox Sisters used in their seances. The infamous trio played a major role in the creation of the spiritualism movement in the 1800s, and when one of them finally admitted that they'd been perpetrating a hoax for decades it did little to dissuade other practitioners. But the table was on display in the public library, and it would have been very difficult to find parking and it wasn't clear the library was open. Instead, I drove on to a monument erected nearby in honor of the same sisters. Erected in 1927, the granite obelisk now stands near the door of something that might be a half-way house or long-term low-rent hotel. A group of four people were hanging out on the benches on either side of the monument. I said hi and shook hands with one man as I worked. A woman asked if I knew what the monument was for, and I told her that it was for the Fox sisters, who'd done seances and things back in the 1800s. She nodded, saying "Yes, spritualism." The first man seemed astonished at this, commenting that he'd been around for years and had never known what it was! It reminded me of a theatre I photographed in Syracuse. I'd been shooting a pretty terra cotta eagle detail near the roofline, and a passer-by looked up and commented "Cool, I'd never noticed that before!"
---
From there, I drove to a cemetery that holds the body of a man who, by some theories, might have been Jack the Ripper. He was a doctor who moved to Rochester from England after the murders happened. But I couldn't get to it; the cemetery was closed. I seem to have bad luck with famous graves; in Metropolis, Illinois, I got in to the cemetery but was simply unable to find the grave of the Birdman of Alcatraz.
Anyway, my next stop was High Falls. This is an 80-foot waterfall on the Genessee River that once served as a power-source for the major early industry of Rochester. There's a foot bridge out over the gorge that provides a very nice view of the falls and the area below, as well as a railroad bridge that spans the river just upstream. I got a nice shot of a group of locomotives crossing the bridge as I meandered across, photographing falling water, industrial remains, and rainbows in the mist. Before making it to the bridge, I'd wandered out onto a fenced-off viewing platform (the fence was down at one corner which I took as an invitation) with hopes of seeing a good view of the falls. It turned out not to afford such a view, so I was glad to find the bridge later on. What was neat about the platform was a fenced off pit that dropped down several stories, past a channel admitting a rush of water, and down to a far below floor. A sign indicated that this was a tailrace for a water-powered mill, back during the days of water-powered industry. I ended up spending quite a while walking around and photographing the site.
I should mention, too, the amazing Times Square building that has enormous, powerful Art Deco wings reaching high up toward the sky. When I first saw it, I was awe-struck. I pulled over to the side of the road immediately to take a few shots. I wish I'd had more time to see it, and the architecture of Rochester in general. It was a really beautiful place!
And that was about the end of my trip. I had a few more things on my list, but it was getting dark. I called
lisagems to catch up a bit since I was in the states, then drove westward toward Canada and Hamilton once again. The border crossing was easy. Oddly enough, I was passed by the same customs agent who saw me on the way east. Do they work both sides of the border? Traffic was horrible on the QEW due to road construction and added an hour or so to my trip, but I finally made it home around eleven and flopped into a warm bed with my wonderful kitty.
