‘I can still see the bones of old Hermosa’ Garrison Frost

by Garrison Frost

Not all the seats in the Bijou directly faced the screen. The owners of the theater at some point had cut the large auditorium in half with a wall down the middle, creating two theaters that could show different movies simultaneously. But they had been too cheap to reorient the seats, so the further you sat away from the new wall the more likely you were to get an oblique view of your screen. And of course, a lot of the seats were just broken.

Regulars knew where to sit, and in ‘90s, I was one. Usually on Wednesday nights when, exhausted from putting The Beach Reporter to bed earlier in the day, I was eager to collapse into one of the seats of the Bijou to watch one or two weird, independent movies. Dinner was often popcorn and peanut M&Ms.

That was an interesting time in Hermosa Beach. You could still drive your car on lower Pier Avenue. Either/Or Bookstore was still open. The town’s economy was not exactly healthy, but the city’s alternative culture, cultivated since the 1950s, was still in full character. I paid cheap rent in a studio apartment on Monterey Boulevard, edited one of the two, robust, local newspapers, scratched out guitar in a surf/punk band, played beach volleyball every day it wasn’t raining, and drove a mostly-operable 1965 Ford Falcon convertible. Life was good, and my Wednesday nights at the Bijou were part of that.

The Bijou of the ‘90s was the latest incarnation of the original Metropolitan Theatre, built in 1923 by architect Richard D. King. In subsequent years, it was called the Hermosa Theatre, Fox Theater, the Cove (where my older sister caught midnight showings of the “Rocky Horror Picture Show”), and then the Bijou. It closed permanently in 1996. It sat for a while, then became an art gallery. Now it’s mainly a Chase Bank, with some offices and a pilates studio upstairs.

“The Manhattan Pier,” (detail), by Garrison Frost.

My latest poster captures the theater in its original incarnation, as the Metropolitan. It’s one of several pieces I’ve created that capture these South Bay monuments, some of which are gone, have evolved, or are holding strong. 

I’m fascinated by how significant buildings change or disappear, and the spaces they leave behind. The Bijou is still significant on the corner of Hermosa Avenue and 13th Street, but in a different way. The Biltmore Hotel once dominated The Strand, which is now dominated by another hotel. I can still see the bones of Either/Or Bookstore on the south side of that curving incline up Pier Avenue. The pier is still there, but gone is the dingy shack at the end where dad used to get clam chowder while I hauled in mackerel.

If you’ve spent some time around here, you feel these places, even when they’re gone.

Garrison Frost, former editor of The Beach Reporter, now splits time between the South Bay and northern California. Instagram @thegarrisonfrost. His posters are available for sale at etsy.com/shop/GarrisonFrostArts. ER