Through the Viewfinder With a Photo of the Broadway Arcade Building Los Angeles, 1924, Part Two

by Paul R. Spitzzeri

Following the announcement in late 1922 that Alfred Cleveland Blumenthal was to undertake the construction of the Broadway Arcade Building (also known as the Broadway-Spring Arcade Building, the Mercantile Arcade, or, simply, Arcade Building) just north of Sixth Street and extending from Spring Street to Broadway on what was recently Mercantile Place and, prior to that, the Spring Street School, a competition was held to select the architects.

The 7 January 1923 issue of the Los Angeles Times reported that “the prize-winning design . . . was submitted by MacDonald and Couchot, San Francisco architects” and that “the plan for the improvement of the property calls for the erection of a three-story arcade building, extending from Spring to Broadway, with a twelve-story office building at each end.”

The project was said to entail $5 million in costs and there were a half-dozen other entries, including J. Albert Lansburgh, whose best-known local designs included the trio of 1926 classics: the El Capitan Theatre, Orpheum Theatre and Shrine Auditorium, the Warner Hollywood Theatre (1928) and the Wiltern Theatre (1931); and Aleck Curlett and Claude Beelman, who designed many prominent regional structures, such as the Barker Brothers Building (1925), Elks Lodge (1924), the Firestone Tire and Rubber Company factory at South Gate (1928), and the Talmadge Apartments (1924), this latter mentioned in part one of this post.

Three days later, the paper published the first renderings of the edifice, with the price tag of $2.5 million attached (the purchase of Mercantile Place was said to be $1.5 million). It was added in an accompanying article that Blumenthal and fellow San Francisco capitalists incorporated as the Mercantile Arcade Realty Company, with capital at $5 million. The arcade portion was to have a 40-foot wide pedestrian walk, while high-speed elevators at the center would provide for the second and third stories, as well as convey passengers to the office towers. Tiled showcases were to be promote those upper-floor businesses for those ambling along the arcade.

The twin towers, the same in design and finishing, were to have distinct occupants, with the Spring Street one “for financial and investment banking firms,” as that thoroughfare was something of the Wall Street of the Angel City, and the Broadway sibling for “general commercial offices”—in all, there were to be some 400 suites in the towers. Blumenthal told the Times that the building was to be “the largest building erected by private enterprise in the city of Los Angeles” as well as “one of the finest structures of its kind in the world.” Featured ornamental elements were to be an abundant use of wrought iron and decorative tile.

About half of the shops were leased and some two-thirds of the expansive basement was let for the Leighton Cafeteria, “making it the largest cafeteria in the world,” with a capacity of 1,500 diners. Blumenthal’s firm set up a special department for the management and leasing of the Arcade Building, with construction aimed to begin on the 1st of April with day and night shifts at work until the expected completion date of New Year’s Day 1924.

The Los Angeles Express of the 12th devoted space in its editorial page about the structure, noting that the three-story arcade “will be one of the most attractive structural features of the city” and continuing that,

Los Angeles appears to have reached that stage in its development where the city grows by its own gathered momentum. The ever-increasing confidence shown by heavy investment grows month by month and year by year until the city has come to be looked upon by capitalists throughout the country as one of the most desirable to be had.

There are not lacking conservative businessmen of sound judgment and broad outlook who believe today that Los Angeles in the not distant future will lead all American cities in point of population and industrial growth, with the exception of New York City.

Referring to those who downplayed the future growth of the city because of a “lack of ample harbor facilities,” the Express observed that these were not only possible, but claimed that, as was often said, especially at this period, with 1923 the peak of the latest massive regional boom, “there is no limit to these imposed by nature other than the city’s faith in its own future and the corresponding expenditure of capital in its development.”

These were heady days, to be sure, and the hoopla and hype that were often displayed in the Angel City’s press when a major project like the Arcade was completed and sections of several pages in length devoted to describing, generally in breathless prose, why these were so vital to the relentless and seemingly endless growth of the city.

Not surprisingly, completion was delayed beyond initial projections, though a little more than six weeks was not overly long given the size and complexity involved, not to mention the speed of construction. The Express of Valentine’s Day 1924 observed that “of historic interest” was a comment by architect Kenneth MacDonald, Jr. that he’d learned that “the first arcade building in the world was constructed in London in 1794,” but it named the Burlington Arcade, which was actually finished a quarter century later. Also mentioned was an arcade in Milan, Italy that was about the size of the Los Angeles one, while it was noted that there were five in Cleveland.

As to some of the history of the edifice, the paper reported that

Hidden beneath the artistically finished exterior, which to the laymen may seem to be but little more than a pile of steel and concrete, lies an interesting story of a battle against time—a battle in which the wits and skill of men were pitted against the mammoth obstacles and unexpected problems encountered in the construction of such gigantic buildings.

The construction time of nine months was considered record-breaking and details were provided by officials of MacDonald and Kahn, the contractors, who were hired in January 1923 and then, once possession of the property by the Mercantile Arcade Realty Company took place on 24 April, the steel contract was issued to the prominent local firm of Llewellyn Iron Works. Demolition of Mercantile Place commenced immediately and was done on 11 May. Because removal began on the Broadway side, initial efforts on the underpinning of existing adjoining buildings, involving the lowering of foundations from 10 to 35 feet, began on the 3rd and was finished in a few days.

Excavation of 38,000 cubic yards of dirt for the new edifice was done by mid-June, with the structural steel starting on the Broadway side a week later and on the Spring Street side the day after Independence Day. As for Arcade portion, that steel work began soon after the Broadway tower and was done on 21 August, as was that latter tower, while that for the Spring Street tower was finished two weeks later. In all, 2,000 tons of steel were employed.

Then came the pouring of concrete fire-proofed walls and floors, comprising some 14,000 cubic yards, and at the rate of three or four floors weekly. Terra cotta cladding for the exterior was handled by the prominent firm of Gladding, McBean and Company, with openwork tracery on the lower quartet of floors of the towers, this being a first on the west coast. The intricacy meant some delays so that interior work was undertaken to save time, so the unusual circumstance arose in which passersby could see interior plastering and floors finished before the exterior cladding.

MacDonald provided the paper more notable facts about the Arcade Building, including that it contained 38,500 square feet of surface area on the lot and over 300,000 square feet of floor space amid 350 offices and 61 shops. There were nine elevators, 1,100 doors and 1,200 windows installed with 110,000 square feet of plaster, 65,000 square feet of glass and 260,000 square feet of wood utilized. The Arcade skylight alone had more than a quarter of that glass, while floors accessed by the general public were covered by 72,000 square feet of terrazzo and 11,000 lineal feet of a marble base.

While a majority of the basement, as noted above, was devoted to the Leighton Cafeteria, the rest housed the voluminous mechanical equipment including the steam plant for heating and ventilation with supply and exhaust and all 61 stores having their own supply, while the air for the cafeteria and Arcade were cooled and heated mechanically. Though the opening was in mid-February, to allow for changes requested by tenants, the early completion of the Broadway tower meant that some lessees moved in as early as 7 January.

The cafeteria had seating for 1,000 persons, a couple hundred fewer than originally envisioned, in 12,000 square feet, with it expected that there’d be 20,000 diners served daily. A lobby, service space, kitchen and bakery added above 30,000 square feet. The main entrance was from the Broadway side and the space was finished in travertine marble, except the lobby and dining room which were in an “old English” design with marble floors and oak paneling on the walls.

Blumenthal told the Express that, while he was involved in the Ramish purchase, he then pivoted to the acquisition of the Loew’s State Building site, purchased from Arthur Letts, proprietor of The Broadway department store. He added that he was mocked for his rental rate schedule there and, despite that structure costing $1 million more than anticipated, revenue was $680,000 for 1923, which he believed was a record for similar structures. Following that success, “I talked my head off to capitalists” and got one, Mortimer Fleishhacker of San Francisco, to build on the T-shaped property Blumenthal acquired from Letts at Hill and 7th.

The developer offered that “there was no mystery about” how he quickly moved to expend some $75 million in three years on a litany of real estate deals, adding “all that was needed was money to buy with and develop with,” but he also observed,

You people in Los Angeles have boosted the climate, the fact that you can shop here every day in the year and all day, that you have cheap water and cheap power, oil for fuel, a back country that produces millions and millions, a motion picture industry that would make a good sized city alone, and good labor conditions. You have known all these things, but haven’t cashed in on them. It was my good fortune to see that all that had been said about Los Angeles was true and that half had not been told.

The paper also provided the program for the evening dedication with humorist and homespun orator Will Rogers as the master of ceremonies. Some 4,000 persons were expected to be present for a preview; concerts by the Ambassador Hotel Orchestra, Abe Lyman’s Orchestra, two ensembles from the cafeteria and others; three speakers for the “christening,” including Boyle Workman, president of the City Council and acting mayor for chief executive George E. Cryer; the introduction of a galaxy of stars from the film industry including Charles Chaplin, Jackie Coogan (the comedian’s co-star in 1921’s The Kid), Pola Negri, Baby Peggy (Diana Serra Cary, who died in 2020 at age 101; and a wide range of entertainment to conclude the night.

This included 25 “Lilliputians,” or little people, from the Al G. Barnes Circus; the Temple Baptist Church choir singing the national anthem; soprano Constance Balfour and other singers; Sid Grauman’s Egyptian Theater octet and ballet; characterizations from the massive 1923 hit film, The Covered Wagon and recent pictures from Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks (his smash, The Thief of Baghdad); and “Pharoah’s Illusion,” also known as “Pharoah’s Mystery Cabinet,” another Grauman piece to promote his theater and its showing of The Ten Commandments—this latter piece featured a woman named “Roma” and “Professor William Frawley,” who became famous more than a quarter century later as Fred Mertz in the television classic I Love Lucy after an extensive career in vaudeville and film.

A notable novelty in the Express‘ special section concerned the observation that “when the next census takers for Uncle Sam,” this would be a half-dozen years later in spring 1930, “start out to tabulate the population of Los Angeles they will find considerable of a community within the walls” of the new edifice. To visit all 411 offices and shops, allowing for ten minutes per space, would take eight-and-a-half working days, with several hours comprised of walking among the seven miles of space taking 13,000 steps, if done according to Army marching regulations.

With this, we’ll halt our march of progress and return tomorrow with part three, so be sure to join us then!