Under the presidency of John Murphy, who with his wife Shirley had been connected with the Operatic Society for nearly 30 years, the-society took control of the theatre in 1971. But it could not raise enough money to pay for it. In fact, as payment date fell due only about $7000 had been raised towards a total requirement of $60,000. The Opera House Company extended the society's option, but a year later it was still a long way from the target. At the end of 1972 the society called a public meeting and asked for help. Practical people who attended decided to throw their weight behind saving the old theatre. Two committees were set up: one to get the building up to the standards required by the city council before it would issue a licence to operate as a public place; and the other to go into the legal and financial implications of buying the theatre. After much negotiation the council agreed to advance $75,000 over 15 years; the ANZ Bank agreed to lend $46,580 and the Arts Council gave $10,000. A trust was set up to take over the administration. Early in 1976 the public voted to make the renovation of the Opera House a major borough centennial project, aiming to raise $100,000. Ian Russell was made voluntary director of a campaign committee under the chairmanship of the Mayor, D. V. Sutherland, and in a few months a total of$214,000 was collected from private individuals, business firms, local bodies and service groups, with the Arts Council giving $30,000. On August 11, 1976, in celebration of a century of progress under town, borough and city councils, a gala opening of South Pacific produced by Dome Arthur for the Operatic Society, was presented to a crowded house with guests of honour the Prime Minister, R. D. Muldoon, and his wife. During the first six weeks after the grand opening 27,643 people went to concerts and shows, and in the fours months to Christmas, more than 50 performances had been given. In spite of the recent advance of television and its effect on the social habits of communities, amateur theatre has always been popular in New Plymouth. In the early years of this century it was very much the 'done thing' to like theatre, especially plays. Not music hall, though. That was vulgar. Revues were suspect too. 'There was at least one family in New Plymouth where the father went to see a play first to censor it before the women of the household were allowed to see it. But in the past few decades theatre has increased in strength and quality and has surged into a leisure-time activity engrossing thousands of people of all ages. The New Plymouth Little Theatre Society was formed in 1934, evolving from a YM- YWCA drama circle, with Evie Atkinson as its driving force.
It began life in a room by the railway station, but the noise of the shunting just outside the windows was too much and the company moved to an old building in Petticoat Lane (Upper Pendarves Street, and now closed). The society remained there during the war years and donated all profits from its many productions to the war effort-and the war drained it of most of its male members. One of its keenest supporters from 1943 to 1946 was Allan Highet, later Minister for the Arts. After the war the tiny building proved to small for increasing audiences and productions were staged in church halls, and later the Opera House. In 1955 it acquired its present premises-a converted furniture factory-in Aubrey Street, and with subsequent alterations and additions-it has built not only a delightful intimate theatre, but also a reputation for quality productions. But it has had opposition-from within its own ranks. In the mid-50s, before television began keeping people at home and when amateur theatre was at its peak, young newcomers to the town, as well as some of the older members, began to feel that Little Theatre was rather behind the times with its leaning towards 'nice' plays. So the New Plymouth Repertory Society was formed, with its headquarters in Broadmore Street, then on the outskirts of the town. Cydie Strang, a charismatic figure who for more than 30 years was an outstanding producer of plays, musicals and operas in the town, commented that the breakaway was inevitable. 'All clubs tend to break up when they become too big to handle.' But in spite of initial bitterness and major financial problems, time has revealed that there was indeed room for two amateur 'little' theatres, and both have thrived. In 1980 Little Theatre raised $120,000, to extend its theatre into a theatre-restaurant. In response to an awakening need for an organisation to promote fully professional performances in various fields of entertainment, after the virtual dearth of this activity during the war years, the New Plymouth Community Arts Service (later the Music Federation) was formed at a public meeting in 1954. Its patron was former Mayor E. O. E. Hill and the first president W. G. Watts. Its aims were to 'sponsor, manage or assist the exhibition or performance of art and other displays, exhibi- tions, plays, operas, ballets, concerts, musical, literary, dramatic and dance recitals, and performances of any kind'. Over the years it promoted many fine professional visits, but by the mid-1970s its function was almost exclusively the promotion of chamber music. Keith Adams was elected president in 1960 and under his administration the federation has prospered. Its greatest success was bringing to New Plymouth the Warsaw Philharmonic Chamber Orchestra to perform to a crowded Opera House in 1978.
By 1980 almost everyone's dream seemed to be the possessor (after a house, a car, a television set, a washing machine, a dishwasher and all the other 'mod-cons') of the latest in hi-fi stereo, or quadraphonic 'sound systems' , in his living room.
This dream began in Taranaki before the turn of the century. 'When I was seven, in 1893', records diarist Geoffrey Hughson!" 'the world's most wonderful machine came. A machine that could really talk and sing. Father took me, and the school was packed to hear this latest world wonder. It was housed in a large box sitting on a table. A large trumpet eight or ten feet long acted as an amplifier. The records were cylindrical. Each one announced itself in wonderfully clear words in spite of a real raspiness and said: "Edison Records. Billy Williams will sing". At first I though the operator had a man under the table, but Father explained it to me. I was telling Mother all about it as she sat milking in the open paddock next morning. She said: "Yes, they are very clever with their new inventions but will they ever invent a machine to milk a cow?" , When the Hughsons took over a store at Rahotu in 1905 from Messrs Fraser and Langman 'one of the highlights of the shop was making cylindrical gramophone records. A recording machine was installed and many local celebrities were enticed into making a record. These were left at the shop and played when requested.'15 Such machines were imported by H. Collier, of Devon Street. This, the oldest musical house in New Plymouth and the second oldest in the Dominion, was founded in 1875 and is still serving the province's musical needs from its original site. In 1888 Collier advertised that his 'Music Warehouse' could supply a wide variety of instruments, brass, wind, percussion and string, with 'every instrument guaranteed and may be bought on easy terms'. Later, his stock included gramophones and radios. Then came 'the pictures'. The biograph, the original cinematograph machine, was an American invention first produced in 1897. As with so many other 'modern' inventions it was many years before it came to New Zealand. Garnet Hornby Saunders, an Australian and a shoemaker by trade, began his career in the entertainment field as a bandsman with Fitzgerald Circus. When he came to New Plymouth, he was soon a successful businessman, and his interest in the musical arena continued. He was conductor of Garry's Band, a popular group early this century. In 1909 he introduced Saunders Biograph Pictures in the Theatre Royal, where he projected silent movies such as The Purple Mask, A Trip to the Moon and The Great Train Robbery (not the 1970 version). They were all made before 1900, and all introduced features which will probably last as long as movies themselves-the Western and the chase. The biograph-which Saunders also took to Waitara and Strat- ford-was, in the beginning, a hand-cranked machine. Later it was propelled by a gas-driven engine and later still by electricity. The title 'silent' movies was a misnomer, for it was a noisy contraption and in order not to distract picture goers-and to produce 'atmosphere' for sequences shown on the screen-first a pianist and then a four or five-piece orchestra was installed in the pit.
Mrs Jerssey Jan George, wife of Arnold George, founder of George's Cycle Shop in Brougham Street, had been a music teacher since 1895. She and her children were all prominent musicians in the town. She founded Mrs George's Orchestra, which for more than 25 years gave thousands of performances in the town, in addition to playing for picture goers. During World War One the orchestra gave more than 400 'patriotic concerts' without charge. Mrs George died in 1925, but her orchestra played on under the name George Brothers' Orchestra. This, too was a misnomer, for one of its members was Mrs George's daughter, Mrs Doris Bensl, herself a professional music teacher for more than 40 years. When Saunders introduced his biograph Mrs George and her musicians were employed in the Theatre Royal. They used little sheet music, but interpreted the action on the screen above them with suitable accompaniment. Thus, when Riders of the Dawn, billed as 'a powerful Drama of Love and Adventure in the great West', mood music such as the William Tell Overture would be chosen; A Little Love, a Little Kiss might accompany a love scene. Subsequently, Everybody's Theatre was built by Taranaki Amusements Ltd, and in 1918 People's Pictures, later renamed the Regent Theatre, opened. This was a highly profitable venture for many years, returning to its investors dividends of more than 23%. Then it fell victim to television's influence and for some years it lay idle and empty until it was transformed into the Govett-Brewster Art Gallery. For more than 30 years Caleb Wyatt was its popular projectionist. In 1919 a New Zealand war film, The Kidfrom Timaru, was shown to a crowded audience in Everybody's. Produced by Barry Marshall, of Wellington, it was a film version o fa ballad poem which Marshall recited while the film was in progress. One of the last silent films to be shown in New Plymouth was Journey's End. The introduction of 'talkies' in 1929 brought many changes. Film goers appreciated the new reality of films such as The Jazz Singer and Broadway Melody, and audiences increased. For many weeks there were long queues outside the cinemas, and many people came to town to watch the struggle to be admitted before the 'house full' sign went up. But musicians found it hard to obtain work. The George orchestra was one of the few which continued to entertain at concerts, recitals, pantomimes, musical comedies and as accompanists to visiting international singers and entertainers until television kept people at home. Today the city's two cinemas are the State, owned by Amalgamated Theatres, and the Mayfair, built in 1936, still owned by Taranaki Amusements but operated under agreement with Kerridge Odeon. New Plymouth's Govett-Brewster Art Gallery is the infant of the city's cultural scene. But it has been a troublesome child.