Long Acre Square, as it was originally known. Says so right on the card, too - which just shows how much you should trust them. This postcard is dated 1910, but the Square had been renamed "Times Square" by 1904. Apparently the vendor did not throw out his stock when the change was made.

In the middle, of course, is the Times Tower; to the right, the Hotel Astor. In the background to the left, the New York theater, part of Oscar Hammerstein's massive Olympia theater.

Long Acre Square, detail. Times Square was originally a smelly district that catered to the horse trade. As often happened, the horse business turned into the auto business. Alongside its new role as the entertainment capitol of the city, Times Square was also home to car dealerships. (Note the Packard sign.) Imagine going to Times Square to pick up a car for a test drive today - you'd never get out of second gear.

The Times Tower. Like the Flatiron Building, this tower occupied a triangular slice of terrain, but did so with much less finesse than the Flatiron. It's rather top-heavy and impractical, but I'd give anything to see it this way again. Unfortunately, it's been smothered under a deadening caul since Allied Chemical ruined it in the 60s. I'm not sure anyone even works there anymore - it's just a gigantic stand for billboards.

To the left, the famed Knickerbocker Hotel.

The Times Tower. A view of the back, looking north. Not the most practical building, really – it’s very narrow, which made for good ventilation in the pre-air conditioning era, but it seems as if you couldn’t type without knocking someone in the side with you elbows.

Hotel Astor. From the inexhaustible coffers of the Astors. Built in 1904, was one of the three great Times Square hotels that helped making the area a social nexus for high society. The Astor was famed for its public rooms and restaurants, with each room highlighting a different style and period. One room was done in an "Indian" style; another was decorated a la Chinoise, another in the Flemish manner, etc. The top floors contained the ballrooms - under that huge mansard roof were the high-ceiling rooms in which the elite danced and dined. It was a good time to be rich. But it's always a good time to be rich.

The Bush Terminal Building. Helmle & Corbett, 1918. As long as we're in the neighborhood of the Knick: brief detour from Times Square, and a brief jump ahead in time, if you don't mind.A peculiar building - 30 stories tall, 90 feet wide. It was designed as a showroom building for displaying merchandise to wholesalers, and was constructed with the assumption that it would eventually be flanked by buildings of equal size. Hence the blank walls. But those buildings weren't built. At least not at press time. It was regarded as an impressive and ingenious building it its time, and even now, standing out alone on 42nd avenue, it commands the street. It just doesn't know what to do with it.

The Hermitage Hotel @ 572 7th Avenue. It already looks like an utter fleabag. The adjacent buildings are dimmed, but you can make out the marquee of the Stanley theater; it says Katherine Hepburn / A Woman Rebels which dates the picture at 1938, thirty-one years after the hotel was built. It was constructed primarily as a “bachelor’s hotel,” and decorated inside in the Art Nouveau style. Must have been rather cool in its heyday, eh?

Hotel Edison. Another mountain range - this one built just as the Depression hit. Clean massing, streamlined setbacks. To give you an idea of the scale of hotel construction in the 20s in New York, the only comment "New York 1930" has about the Edison is to mention it among "the smaller hotels in the Modernist manner" built around Times Square. Smaller? Criminey, but it's big.

The Paramount Hotel. You know, I've stayed here half a dozen times, and I never knew it was this tall. The back of the card informs us that the hotel boasts "circulating ice water!" And it's the home of "Billy Rose's Diamond Horseshoe," New York's Leading Night Club. The hotel had a bad location - 46th, off Broadway. Well, not bad, but inconspicuous.

Now this is one of the coolest hotels in New York. But it still doesn't look this big.

1936 Roosevelt's reelection announced via the zipper, and projected - electronically! - on the building. It's almost as if they skipped tube TVs and went straight to flat screens.

1937 or thereabouts. The marquee says "Helen Hayes, Gary Cooper" - they starred in "A Farewell to Arms" in 1932, but the International Casino - the building in which the theater was located - was built in 1937. So this was a re-release. The International Casino was one of the most ingenious buildings of the era, and demonstrated the ability of humankind to get around any sort of liquor law. The laws specified a maximum of one (1) stand-up bar in any drinking establishment, so the architects built a spiral bar that ran two stories. Brilliant.

But hopeless. The International Casino closed in 1940, and its replacement was - well, you'll see.

1937. The dealerships have been replaced by the gigantic Loews State building (since demolished.) The Calvert’s sign gives you a clue who subsidized this particular card. You clever-headed Calvert caller, you.
 

On the marquee, “In Old Chicago.”

		Red Skelton, Sims & Bailey, Holland & Hart vaudeville. After 60 years, the billing order is justified, since only Skelton hit it big.

		A rainy night in front of the Paramount. "Bluebeard's Eighth Wife" is playing, along with Guy Lombardo and Mrs. Bard-Ella Lugar. (Actually, it’s Guy Lombardo and His Band, with Ella Logan. Photoshop and Google: a wonderful combination.)
		Oooh! "The Stadium Murders!" That’ll pack ‘em in. I’ll guess it’s this, the equally ill-named "Hollywood Stadium Mystery."

Before we continue with the macro-view, let's swoop down and take a look at Toffenetti's restaurant.The more I study the evidence, the more Toffinetti’s starts to look like the Wall Drug of Times Square - a place of pedestrian interest relentlessly promoted until it became an obligatory stop. I’ll bet that the coffee was watery, the burgers quite ordinary, the tomato soup too salty, and the waitresses gave you the high hat all day long.

A fifties view of the exterior, which resembles one of those photorealistic streetscapes by Richard Estes. Below, a 40s view of the interior. It has the usual mishmash of modern and kitschy - note the ceiling lamps.
 

1942. The Camel man wears a uniform. To the left, a close-up of the street. Ah, those fonts. Below: slow year for billboard sales. Not a good period for Times Square.

 

Caruso stayed here, and occasionally ventured onto his balcony to warble at the traffic below. It was a failure as a hotel, and was turned into office space in the early 20s. After a sad period when the building was covered with ads, it was restored to former glory.