Muny Opera
In the impressionable years of adolescence, growing up in St. Louis in the thirties, one of the most enjoyable activities I recall fondly was in the summer attending the Municipal Theater. It is commonly referred to as the Muny Opera. Going to the Muny Opera in Forest Park was one of the highlights of the season for my siblings, for the Greek American children on Aubert Avenue and for me.
The Muny Opera is an amphitheater, set on the side of a hill, reminiscent of ancient Greek theaters. The theater was established in 1919, and seats over eleven thousand people. The stage was huge, and at that time, at each end of it was a huge-branched, leafy tree. Since there were no curtains on the stage to hide the workmen changing the scenery, we were always fascinated by the method that accomplished that task; in the center of the stage there was a revolving section that was turned by a machine hidden below the stage. Thus a change of scenery was achieved very quickly and efficiently.
Light opera productions and Broadway musicals were prominently featured with the leading roles played by nationally known stars of the theater; the rest of the cast was local talent. The presentations were accompanied by a full orchestra. Each week there was a new offering, and among them favorites like the Desert Song, Naughty Marietta, Gypsy, Show Boat and others. The Muny Opera operated from mid-June through August. We rarely missed a performance.
Our group from Aubert Avenue, was made up of about ten to twelve youngsters, boys and girls, from the ages of eight to sixteen. The girls always wore a dress, which was the appropriate dress for all girls of that period of time, regardless of ethnic background. Shorts or pants were not available for the female gender; no one of our sex even possessed such an article of clothing. The boys always wore long legged pants.
We would assemble at a prearranged time in front of someone's house in the early afternoon for our half hour walk to the Muny Opera. We would always walk the three miles to the theater, we had no other transportation. To go by bus was out of the question since most of the parents couldn't afford the expense, and with the exception of my parents and one other family, no other Greek family on Aubert Avenue owned a car. Actually, we enjoyed walking to the Muny Opera, because there were interesting and beautiful things to see on the way.
Our itinerary would start with a walk south down Aubert Avenue to Delmar Avenue, turn right, go a block to Kingshighway Boulevard, and turn left. This was the beginning of an area of private streets and luxury apartment buildings, and also outstanding religious architecture. Walking through this area made us feel special, to feel we could be near homes and religious buildings where the upper middle class and wealthy people of St. Louis lived and worshiped. The residents belonged to elite clubs, owned automobiles, had servants do their housework and gardening; sent their children to private schools like Mary Institute, Smith Academy, and City House.
As we walked down Kingshighway Boulevard, we would pass the "Holy Corners", at Washington Avenue. On each corner was a religious building; on the northwest side, was Temple Israel. On the same side of the street, on the southwest corner, was St. John's Methodist Church, and directly across the street, on the southeast corner was the Second Baptist Church. Going to the next block, we would wonder about the building that was occupied by a private men's club, called the Racquet Club. We would stare at the valet who stood at attention by the driveway to assist members entering or leaving the building, wondering which of these men were the ones who controlled the future of the city in their hands; which of these men were the Busch's, Danforth's, and other wealthy men of our community.
Continuing our walk, immediately adjacent to the Racquet Club, and for about a mile, were private streets, on both sides of Kigshighway Boulevard, sheltering the large, magnificent homes of wealthy owners. Needless to say, we were very impressed by them, gawking at structures built in the 1890's, as we went by. How to compare those homes with the brick two-family flats we lived in on Aubert Avenue?
From there it was a short distance to the entrance of our beloved Forest Park. On June 24, 1876, the year our nation celebrated its centennial anniversary, at a large public ceremony, Forest Park was dedicated. It consisted of 1,370 acres, and today it is still one of the largest urban parks in the country. The park was originally four miles outside of the city limits, but by the thirties the city had grown so much it enveloped the park.
Since it was still early afternoon, our group would head for the Pavilion, which was about a mile further in the park.
The Pavilion had been built in 1909 as a gift to the city from the 1904 World's Fair Board of Directors. It sat high on top of Government Hill, overlooking a fountain that shot straight streams of water very high into the air. We loved to sit and attempt to guess how high the streams of water went. The older members of our group hazarded several guesses, and those of us who were younger would respectfully agree on the estimates. On particularly humid days, we would venture close to the base of the fountain, and run back and forth through the sprays of water, hoping to get some liquid relief from the heat. There was a shelter and refreshment stand at the Pavilion, but none of us had any money to patronize it. The Pavilion was a favorite sight of my parent's when we would go to Forest Park.
Across the road were picnic tables, and although as a rule none of us would bring any food with us, there were rare occasions when we did pack a picnic lunch. We usually assembled there.
One thing the boys were sure to bring with them were a stick, and a corkball, for playing corkball. Both boys and girls made up the two teams. Playing corkball with the boys was a treat for the girls, because corkball was the boy's domain, and waiting around to get into the Muny Opera to get free seats was the only time the boys would condescend and allow girls to play on their teams. We played corkball in the afternoon, until about six o'clock.
By then the group had had enough of the game of corkball so we would walk the short distance through the park to the Muny Opera theater. The management had a policy, in existence to this day, of allotting about ten rows in the back of the theater as free seats to the public. Since the performance was to begin at eight o'clock, the gates would be locked with a padlock and chain. Undaunted by this obstacle, one by one we would climb over the iron gate, giving assistance to those who had difficulty scaling the locked gate. Even though the girls wore dresses, climbing over the gate posed no problem. At that early hour, our group were the only ones there, so we joyously scrambled over the seats, picking and choosing where we wanted to sit. We each had a front row seat, by the fence separating the free seats from the reserved paid seats. Our group was thrilled to be sitting in the free seats in the back of the amphitheater, and with anticipation and excitement were prepared to wait for the evening's performance.
Oftentimes, we were fortunate to witness the rehearsal of the forthcoming week's performance. We would scrutinize the actor's on the stage, hoping to recognize and catch a glimpse of a well-known stage or screen personality. Some of us would softly shriek, and giggle, when we thought we saw a famous celebrity. It was interesting to see how the actor's rehearsed.
At seven o'clock the iron gates would be unlocked, the ushers would take their places by the appropriate entrance, and the patrons would start to arrive.
Attending the Muny Opera was enchanting. We were transported to different worlds by the action on the stage, and saw behavior and life very different of what we knew, or at our age, had ever dreamed existed. The music of the Desert Song took us to the sands of another country and continent. Naughty Marietta took us to Europe as we watched the actors show us life in the eighteen hundreds. Each light opera was a cultural awakening for our group, that broadened our intellectual capacities, and made us aware of life in other places. These were wonderful cultural experiences.
About eleven o'clock, when the performance was over, tired but excited from the day's activities, our little group would assemble again in front of the theater, and start on our walk home to Aubert Avenue. Even though it was dark, and we would have to go through Forest Park, to Kingshighway Boulevard, north to Delmar Boulevard to Aubert Avenue; past the private streets with the wealthy homes, past the Men's Club, past the "Holy Corners", we had no thought of being afraid. Many people leaving the theater to go home, were walking, or in cars, in the park and on the busy streets. Some of the girls would sing songs we had heard that evening; some of us would discuss the show and talk about the actors we had seen. We would arrive to our homes on Aubert Avenue safe, if exhausted, but very happy, invigorated, thrilled with our attendance at the Muny Opera.
© 2003 by Jennie Constantinides Vlanton
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