In yesterday’s photo of the RCA Victor building on Vine Street, it was hard to get a bead on where exactly it stood. Google Maps puts 1510 Vine just north of the corner of Sunset and Vine but the NBC studios took up most of that block. And then I was sent this photo of the NBC studios in the mid-1950s and if we look at the extreme left, we can juuuust see the red “RCA VICTOR” sign of the white building sitting on the corner of Vine and Selma. We can also see that by the time this photo was taken, NBC had fully transitioned the studios from radio to television. And aside from all that, it’s just great to see a color photo of the Sunset-and-Vine corner.
And in this circa early 1940s photo, we’re looking south down Vine Street along the NBC studios. It shows how far the building extended north of the Sunset and Vine intersection.
NBC and RCA were under the same corporate umbrella at the time. That’s how they solved the chicken-and-egg syndrome of color TV later in the ’50s going into the early ’60s. They were able to push out both color content and hardware, and the NBC Peacock logo originated in this era to give viewers using black-and-white sets – the majority of them, certainly at first – an idea of what they were missing out on.
Wow, interesting! I didn’t know that. Thanks for the extra info!
I grew up in San Francisco, but my Grandfather lived in Los Angeles. We came to visit him around 1951-2, so I was 9 or 10. He took us for a tour around Hollywood in his old model A Ford. At one intersection we saw Dick Powell in a low slung black Jaguar, I believe. And when we drove past this building it gave me a huge thrill, almost more so than seeing Dick Powell.
How much fun that tour must have been. What other sites did your Grandpa show you? The magnificent buildings were still there in the 50s and how I wished I could have seen them. It must have been grand in the 50s ( I did not come along until 52) Also seeing Dick Powell Wow. Did he wave?
Hi John,
Sorry I didn’t see this at fhe time you wrote it. No, Mr. Powell did not wave, and my grandfather did not even stop his tour guide spiel as my sister and I squealed about having seen a movie star. He was probably as deaf as I am now. Los Angeles had a different feel then. I’m not sure how to explain it. Everything was like one of those old postcard packs that fold out: Olvera Street was colorful and charming, Hollywood Boulevard seemed magical, the Planetarium was awe inspiring, the Hollywood Bowl was pristine, before the shell was obstructed with sound equipment. It was probably just because of my impressionable age, but it was like going to Disneyland for me. Of course Disneyland had yet to appear. And in those days we were not overly saturated with extremes. We rode Angel’s Flight with delight, in it’s original spot. Another big deal at the time was Forest Lawn. The huge painting that you don’t hear about anymore had just opened not long before and it, as well as Forest Lawn itself, was a big tourist attraction. We had to make a pilgrimage there and my grandfather proudly showed us the plot he had recently purchased. He passed in 1961 and in Sept 1964 I moved to Los Angeles for a ‘temporary’ job and returned to Forest Lawn to visit him once more, not realizing I’d still be here sixty years later.
It would be interesting to know what those walkways were constructed of. Poured concrete seems more plausible than actual brickwork. In the past, bare cement was often seen as ugly such that it was sometimes completely covered with a durable layer of paint. This deep red was common and was also used by people to re-coat those stamped metal outdoor chairs that are seen in many highway motel shots (like on Route 66). In colder or wetter climates, it might not adhere as well and flaking would necessitate regular repainting. But Hollywood & Vine is sunbelt territory so this stuff might have lasted pretty well. With the common white for the art moderne streamlined building, and the green as a complementary color, the dash if red in doors and walkways made this building stand out as something unique. Throw in the tall palms and silver trim and you’ve got a billboard that says, “Here we are in Hollywood!”. Except for those lawn flamingoes, pastels were strictly Florida wanna-be material.
Hard to tell, especially since period photos are difficult to find, but the building on the north side of Selma just across from RCA Victor could be 6277 Selma where Del-Fi Records, Inc. was based from the latter ‘50’s into the 1966-67 closure. It would become Mystic Sound Studio and some images do exist taken after their departure in 1986 or so. From what I can tell, there are four large lower window openings on the side of the structure heading towards Vine, with a lower horizontal window below an upstairs grouping on the eastern end. The building appears pinkish here and we see but two of those windows, and none of the roofline transition. Perhaps more can be spotted in aerials. Del-Fi is associated with Ritchie Valens, Bobby Fuller, and lots ‘o Surf Music along with much more. Johnny Crawford, from The Rifleman TV show, became another recording artist and reportedly the best seller for Keane’s company. A number of the songs from this factory can be found in the soundtracks of major Hollywood films such as Pulp Fiction.