El cinematógrafo de Salvador Toscano y Carlos Mongrand (Olympia, <26 de agosto-<04 de septiembre de 1900)

El pionero Salvador Toscano, con la colaboración de Carlos Mongrand, va presentando su cinematógrafo en algunas ciudades del sur de Estados Unidos. Estando en Galveston le escribe a su madre:

El cinematógrafo da poco aquí, pero en fin siquiera va sirviendo para ir delante sin gastar. Nunca habían visto los yankees cosa igual, se quedan admirados con las vistas, pero la gente aquí no gasta tanto como en México.

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Salvador Toscano, Carta a su madre, Galveston, 26 de agosto de 1900, caja 1, exp. 10.Citado en MIQUEL, 1997: 21.

La prensa evoca la presencia de este cinematógrafo:

Pictures of Olympia.
The cinematograph picture show at Olympia was repeated last night to a good audience. The pictures shown comprised scenes from the Boer war and other subjects, serious, amusing and comical. The show will run through the week, with change of programme each night.

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The Galveston Daily News, Galveston, Friday, August 31, 1900, p. 10.

Pocos días después se ofrece, en el mismo periódico, una amplia reseña del espectáculo:

A Five Hours' Show.
The management of the cinematograph pictures which were exhibited at the Olympia-by-the-Sea last week played a Joke on the amusement loving public of Galveston Sunday night. The exhibitions all last week were rather slimly attended, in fat, the patronage was most discouraging to the management, which claimed to have an excellent collection of pictures and a fine machine with which to exhibit them. Those who saw the pictures will admit that they were very good and well worth the price of admission. The admission fee was placed at 25 cents and the exhibition advertised. But the crowds filed to come, and at last the arrangement decided to give one grand treat on Sunday night and to give the people a fill of cinematograph pictures. The manager announced that he would show [130] pictures and that the performance would start at 7 p.m. and continue until he had carried out his programme. He also announced that he would cut the price of admission. Olympia was crowded shortly after the show commenced, and for two hours the audience bore patiently. About 10 o’clock some early […] who are accustomed to retiring early started for home. From that hour until 11 o’clock the crowd kept […] out. There was no complaint about the show, in fact, everybody praised the exhibition, and those who left regretted that they had to go before the end of the show. The passion pictures alone were well worth double the admission charged, and there were only seven of them. It was simply a case of too much of a god thing and the audience grew weary. Children fell asleep in their parents’ arms, old men nodded and old women nodded. During the intermissions the audience promenaded around the building. At 11 p. m. the show was still on and about sixty pictures remained to be shown. Many people left to catch the 11 o’clock cars, but about 300 people remained and shifted about for soft spots on the hard benches and chairs. The doorkeeper fell asleep and could’not be awakened by ordinary calling. The Mexican musicians grew weak and weary and played as though they were playing their own funeral dirge. The little boy who attended to the electric light switch board, turning the lights on after each picture and turning them off just before each picture was thrown on the while canvas, almost fainted at his post. He could not keep awake, and two boys had to be hired to keep him awake until the end of the show. But the tired band played on and the pictures came as regular as clockwork and were delightfully good reproductions. The closing pictures were scenes in the Boer war, and they aroused great enthusiasm even in such a drowsy audience. Il was 11.55 p.m. exactly when the last picture faded from the canvas and the lights in the cinematograph went out. It was simply a case of a show which tired out its audience, and yet was pronounced a fin exhibition from beginning to end.

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The Galveston Daily News, Galveston, Tuesday, September 4, 1900, p. 8.

No se sabe hasta cuando se siguen presentando vistas animadas, pero el día 8 de septiembre de 1900, un terrible huracán asola completamente Galveston provocando la muerte de entre 6000 y 12000 personas.

Galveston, 1900 
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