Palace Theatre

Was Minneapolis hiding a secret? A forgotten palace, no less? Right here, at 4th Street and Hennepin Avenue S, once stood the Minneapolis Palace Theatre. Not the one in St. Paul, mind you, but a vanished gem of our own. The Palace Theatre opened in 1914. It was a lavish vaudeville house, boasting 2,400 seats, rivaling the Orpheum and State theaters in grandeur. The Palace Theatre was built on land once occupied by Levi Stewart, an eccentric lawyer who stubbornly refused to sell his property. This plot of land, a green oasis amidst the growing city, was often called Stewart Park. After Stewart’s death in 1910, the Palace Theatre rose on the southern part of his land. Designed by architect John Eberson, with help from the local firm of Buechner & Orth, the Palace Theatre cost a staggering $600,000. Its French Renaissance facade, with Venetian red brick and terra-cotta trim, was truly a sight to behold. Inside, the Palace Theatre was equally stunning, a marvel of marble staircases, arched ceilings, and glittering plasterwork. The Palace Theatre opened with a bang on October 4, 1914. The silent film “The Nightingale,” starring Ethel Barrymore, graced the screen. Live acts included “The Great Mizpah Selbini” and the mind-reading horse, “Don Fulano.” Sadly, the Palace Theatre’s glory days were short-lived. Competition from newer theaters and changing tastes led to its decline. It became a burlesque house (the tamer kind, without the dancers) and later a wrestling venue. In 1938, the Palace Theatre hosted the world’s first ice cream wrestling match, featuring Roughhouse Ross vs. Jumping Joe Reno in a ring filled with 250 gallons of ice cream. The Palace Theatre eventually became a second-run movie theater before closing its doors for good in 1953. Columnist George Grim mourned its demise, remembering the marble staircase as “a touch of the Taj Mahal on Hennepin Avenue.” Today, a parking lot stands where the magnificent Palace Theatre once entertained thousands. Bits and pieces of the Palace Theatre, fixtures and furnishings, were sold off. Perhaps they still exist, hidden away in private collections, whispers of a forgotten era.