From Phoenix to Lazarus, the Walton Theatre

WALTON — I grew up backstage in a very old theater family. I can't guess how many times I heard my father remind folks that theater was a religious undertaking for ancient Greeks. I spent much of my life as a member of IATSI, the projectionist union. Film theaters were once so important that they were the downfall of Frank Nitti, who followed Al Capone as head of the Chicago Outfit. Actor Bob Balaban's father and uncle were the target of Nitti's attempted shake down of the movie theater industry, and like Eliot Ness and tax evasion for Capone, the attempt to control this vital industry brought about the end of Frank Nitti.

In the "Wild West" often, among the first buildings that rose from the dust of the Plains was the opera house. In the days before television, theaters were as important to a small town as churches.  Today, I'm sitting talking to Jim Richardson, in the coffee house of the Walton Theatre. He knows the importance of theater to a small town and is one of the volunteers keeping an historic theater alive and bringing groups of people together in that spiritual joy that is the audience.

The Walton Theatre takes root around 1883 when a town hall is built to accommodate village offices, an opera house and ironically, the town's firehouse. The irony of this is born when, on the evening of December 10, 1912, the hall catches fire and is a total loss. Well, not a total loss. The town's fire bell comes crashing through the burning roof and is found cracked in the smoking rubble, it is recast and today hangs proudly in the reborn Walton Theatre's bell tower.  

Under the best of circumstances, keeping a midsized theater alive is not an easy task. It is not a life for those who are looking to get rich and live on the plush. But the story of  Walton Theatre goes beyond the usual dedication to theater life. This wonderfully restored work in constant process is carried out by a fully volunteer band of heroes. 

The most visible of this company seems to be the affable and capable Jim Richardson. We spoke of the history of the theater, the plans for the future, and the struggles to keep up with the wear and tear theaters must endure from hundreds of loving audience member's feet and in the 1950’s  greasy hair. But also, as so many places in the Catskills, the normal wear includes the ravages of, at times, horrific weather, water and wind. Reborn after fire, the Walton Theatre was once again endangered, this time by water. In 1995 and 2006 flood waters reached as high as the stage in the auditorium.

The restoration is a tribute to talent and taste. You are left wondering what is original, what is new old stock. The chandeliers in the auditorium would convince the most knowledgeable visitor that they were either original or discovered unopened in some warehouse from 1914. They are newly made and could not be more seamlessly in keeping with this old theater's original finery. 

Today's restoration committee finds its birth in the theater's survival into the mid-nineteen eighties. As Joni Mitchell sang, "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got ‘til it's gone?" And gone this theater nearly was.

On April 21, 1914, the place was packed to capacity as the touring company of actors supported by local musicians opened the play "Within the law." The opening performance's audience was photographed from the stage. Everyone is in their Sunday best, most looking serious. After all, this was an historic day. In the back of the theater, men are lined up, standing room in the days when gentlemen stood if a lady did not have a seat.

Fifteen hundred patrons packed the theater, many times the legal limit today. The First World War was just about to change the world forever, but that day, Walton was proudly reopening a theater.

From that day to decades forward, visiting companies of actors answered the call of "One minute to curtain," with a chorus of voices chirping back, "One minute and thank you!" Then the controlled mayhem as actors streamed down the spiral stairs backstage or thundered up the wooden steps from the lower dressing rooms to be arranged in the wings for their entrance, that magic moment when they are enveloped by the audience's expectations and attention. But changes were happening in the world of American entertainment. Film became increasingly important, and as the nation poured its every effort into the next world war, audiences escaped into film, but also watched the war newsreels in hope of images of impending victory. 

After the war, film replaced live theater completely, farmers no longer wore their "Sunday best" to crowd into "the movies" after a hard day of work. The grandeur of nights out faded over the next decades until this graceful old lady was host to the wave of X rated films which inhabited many small theaters in the days between the sexual revolution and home videotape, while the world of entertainment sought definition between artistic expression and exploitation. In those days of economic hardship and cultural change, she quietly died. 

She did not rest long in the grave. In 1984, after being listed in the National Registry of Historic Places, Walton Mayor Raymond Baldi created the Walton Restoration Committee, and the Walton Theatre began to rise like Lazarus from the grave. In 1914 she was a phoenix rising from ashes, she now was a neglected old friend whose Sunday best lay under layers of paint and expedient changes made without thought to the splendor they covered. 

Found beneath later construction were brilliant stained-glass windows, art nouveau ceramic tile, and historic ephemera which helped to reveal this grand old lady's glorious younger days. The restored lobby exhibits many of these discoveries, film posters and advertisements of past performances.

But old theaters are not simply relics of the past. The past infuses the present performances with strong ties to community and culture. My father used to say of preserving our theater's past as he carefully and lovingly made improvements that kept alive the feel of Theatre 80's history, "you don't cut out the rungs of the ladder under you as you climb."

They certainly have not done that here. Past and present partner in the experience of attending performances at the Walton theater, and the result is a return to that first day of wonder and expectation seen in the historic photo of opening night. 

One such event of past meets present was the introduction of Kim Hawkey, who was at the time a resident of Margaretville. She had performed at the Walton Theatre with small jazz ensembles, but on this night, came with Dan Gabel’s big band from Massachusetts. As Jim Richardson describes that night, "The crowd went wild. Eighty-year-old music, and this will be the third year we have them back.”. 

Among the many posters on the wall of the Walton Theatre's Coffee House is one for Joanie Madden and Cherish the Ladies. Joanie is often spoken of as one of the finest players in the Irish folk tradition. Among her many awards and accomplishments in 2021 she was awarded the National Heritage Fellowship by the National Endowment for the Arts, the highest honor an American folk artist can achieve. She says of the Walton Theatre:

"We have been performing at the Walton Theatre every Christmas for more than ten years, and it has truly become one of the highlights of our Celtic Christmas program. We love the small-town charm, the beautiful theatre, and especially the warm hospitality we always receive from Jim Richards and the incredible volunteers at Music on the Delaware, whose dedication makes the entire experience so special. People travel from all over the region to attend, and the response from the audience is always electric. One of my favorite traditions is standing outside after the concert to meet and chat with the patrons—it’s moments like that which make the evening even more meaningful. The community always packs the Walton theatre to the gills, and we'll keep coming back as long as they'll have us!!!"

On the third Sunday of the month, from 6 to 8, the Walton Theatre holds its coffee house in an upstairs room. It has loyal regulars and also brings in new audiences with the specific artists from around the Catskills and beyond.