Saturday, January 31, 2026

Echoes of Antiquity: Unveiling a Rare 1930s Glimpse of Syracuse’s Greek Theatre

 There is a specific kind of magic found in holding a piece of history in your hands. As a collector, few things rival the tactile experience of a "Vera Fotografia" postcard—an actual silver halide photograph printed onto cardstock rather than a mass-produced lithograph.

Today, I’m diving into a stunning acquisition from my collection: a sepia-toned view of the Teatro Greco in Siracusa (Syracuse), Sicily. This isn't just a souvenir; it is a time capsule that captures the intersection of ancient engineering and early 20th-century archaeology.


Dating the Artifact: A Clue in the Ink

One of the most frequent questions I get is, "How do you date an unused postcard?" While there is no postmark to provide a definitive day of mailing, the reverse of this card (the "verso") contains a wealth of forensic data.

Looking closely at the circular logo for Fotocelere Torino, we see the name of the publisher: A. Campassi. Crucially, the text around the rim includes the date 1936-XIV.

The "XIV" refers to the fourteenth year of the Era Fascista (Fascist Era), a dating system used in Italy during the regime of Benito Mussolini, which began counting from the March on Rome in 1922. This places the production of this card precisely in 1936. This was a pivotal time for Italian archaeology, as the government heavily invested in the restoration and promotion of classical sites to link modern Italy with the grandeur of the Roman and Greek past.


A high-angle, sepia photograph of the ancient Greek Theatre (Teatro Greco) in Syracuse, Sicily. The image shows the semi-circular stone seating area, known as the "koilon," carved into the hillside. In the background, there is a small stone house on the left, open fields, and the distant skyline of the city under a clear sky. Italian text at the bottom reads, "SIRACUSA - TEATRO GRECO - IL KOILON VISTO DALL'ALTO."

The back of an unused postcard featuring a cream-colored surface with a vertical dividing line and four horizontal address lines on the right. At the top center, there is a circular black ink stamp that reads "FOTOCELERE TORINO" and mentions "A. CAMPASSI." Small text at the bottom left reads "G. C. di A. - Rip. interdetta" and the bottom centre reads "Vera Fotografia."

The View: "Il Koilon Visto dall'Alto"

The front of the card features a breathtaking high-angle view of the theatre, captioned: “Siracusa – Teatro Greco – Il Koilon Visto dall’Alto” (The Koilon seen from above).

The Koilon (or Cavea) refers to the semi-circular seating area. What makes this 1936 image so striking is the raw, weathered state of the stone. Unlike the pristine, reconstructed versions of ancient sites we often see in modern travel brochures, this photograph shows the theatre as it sat for centuries—carved directly into the white limestone of Temenite Hill.

In the background, you can see the sparse development of Syracuse before the post-war building boom. The small structure perched on the hill to the left is the Casetta dei Mugnai (The Miller's House), a historic building that stood above the theatre, reminding us that for centuries, this site wasn't just a monument; it was a functioning part of the landscape where water mills once harnessed the power of the ancient Galermi Aqueduct.


A Brief History of the Teatro Greco

The theatre pictured here is one of the largest and most significant in the Hellenic world. Its history is a masterclass in architectural evolution:

  1. The Greek Origins (5th Century BC): The first theatre was built here under the tyrant Gelon. It was where the famous playwright Aeschylus premiered his plays, including The Persians.

  2. The Roman Redesign: When the Romans took control of Sicily, they modified the Greek structure. They adapted it for gladiatorial games and circus acts, which required removing some of the lower seating tiers to create a high protective wall around the orchestra.

  3. The Renaissance Strip-Mining: Sadly, in the 1500s, Emperor Charles V used the theatre as a stone quarry. The high-quality limestone blocks were hauled away to build the fortifications of Ortygia, which explains why the upper tiers of the theatre look more like a natural rock formation today than a finished building.


Why "Vera Fotografia" Matters

Collectors prize the "Vera Fotografia" (Real Photo) label seen at the bottom of the card. Unlike standard printed postcards that use tiny dots (halftone) to create an image, this is a real photograph developed from a negative.

When you look at this card under a magnifying glass, the detail is incredible. You can see the individual cracks in the limestone and the texture of the vegetation encroaching on the ruins. The sepia tone isn't just an aesthetic choice; it’s a result of the chemical stabilization of the silver during the printing process in the 1930s, designed to prevent fading.


Visiting Syracuse Today

If you were to stand in this exact spot today, much has changed. The site is now the centerpiece of the Parco Archeologico della Neapolis. While the "Casetta dei Mugnai" still stands, the surrounding area is lush with Mediterranean flora and far more managed for the thousands of tourists who flock to see the annual performances of Greek tragedies that still take place here every summer.

There is something hauntingly beautiful about this 1936 view. It feels quieter, lonelier, and perhaps more connected to the ghosts of the ancient actors who once stood in that semi-circular orchestra.


Final Thoughts

Postcards like these are more than just paper; they are "paper memories." They document not just the landmark, but the way we viewed the landmark at a specific moment in time. This 1936 Campassi card is a testament to the enduring power of the Teatro Greco—a place that has survived tyrants, emperors, and the ravages of time to remain one of the most evocative spots on earth.

Friday, January 30, 2026

Ascending the "Balcony of the Alps": A Vintage Voyage to Brunate, Lake Como

 There is a specific kind of magic found in the tactile grain of a vintage postcard. For those of us who collect these "postal time machines," a card isn't just a piece of cardstock; it’s a portal. Today, I’m thrilled to share a recent addition to my collection: a stunning monochrome multi-view postcard titled "Saluti da Brunate (Como)."

This card captures the essence of early 20th-century Italian tourism, focusing on the steep slopes of Brunate—a village famously known as the Balcone sulle Alpi (Balcony of the Alps) for its breathtaking panoramic views.


A black-and-white vintage multi-view postcard from Italy featuring three distinct images of Brunate and Lake Como. The largest image on the left shows two funicular railway cars passing each other on a steep incline surrounded by trees. The top right image displays a hillside dotted with houses and villas nestled in lush vegetation. The bottom right image is a panoramic view from an elevated position looking down at Lake Como, showing the shoreline, buildings, and a large mountain in the background. The bottom left corner features the cursive Italian text, "Saluti da Brunate (Como)."
Postcard of Brunate and the Como-Brunate Funicular, Italy

Estimating the Era: A 1930s Time Capsule

When dating a postcard without a postmark, we have to play detective. Looking at the design and production markers on this piece, we can narrow down its origin with surprising accuracy.

  • The Publisher (Cecami): The back of the card features the distinctive oval logo of Cecami (Stabilimento Grafico Cesare Capello). This Milanese powerhouse was founded in 1908, but the specific "Cecami" branding and the typography of the "Ediz. A. Preda - Milano" credit line are hallmarks of the mid-to-late 1930s.

  • The Funicular Style: The left-hand image shows the famous Como-Brunate funicular. Notice the boxy, elegant design of the carriages. The funicular underwent a significant refurbishment in 1934/1935, and the cars shown here match the aesthetic of that pre-war era perfectly.

  • Print Quality: The card uses a high-quality phototype process, common in Italy during the interwar period before the mass-market shift to glossier, saturated colour lithography in the 1950s.

Estimated Date: Circa 1935–1939.


A Tale of Three Views

This "triple vignette" design was a popular way for tourists to show off the full experience of their trip in one go.

1. The Engineering Marvel: The Funicular

The dominant image on the left features the funicular railway. Opened in 1894, this engineering feat transitioned from steam to electricity in 1911. By the time this photo was taken in the late 1930s, it was the height of luxury for Milanese elites escaping the summer heat. The image captures two cars passing on the steep 55% incline—a sight that remains largely unchanged for travellers today.

2. The Village on the Hill

The top-right insert offers a glimpse of the Brunate hillside. You can see the dense clusters of villas and hotels that began to sprout up as the village became a premier holiday destination. The architecture visible is a mix of traditional alpine style and the ornate Stile Liberty (Italian Art Nouveau) that Lake Como is famous for.

3. The Grand Panorama

The bottom-right view provides the "money shot": the view from Brunate looking down onto the city of Como and the western arm of the lake. In the distance, the silhouette of the mountains guards the water. Even in black and white, the scale of the landscape is palpable.


Why This Card Matters to My Collection

What I love most about this specific card is its pristine, unposted condition. While I adore reading the frantic scribbles of travellers from 90 years ago, an unposted card allows us to appreciate the graphic design as the artist intended.

The vertical divider on the reverse, the elegant "Ediz. A. Preda" text, and the minimalist address lines represent an era of "slow travel." Sending a card like this wasn't just a quick check-in; it was a curated gift of art sent across borders.

Tips for Collectors: Identifying Cecami Cards

If you’re hunting for Italian vintage cards, keep an eye out for that "Cecami" logo. Cesare Capello’s company was known for its superior photographic clarity.

  • Check the back: Early cards (pre-1905) have undivided backs.

  • Look for the logo: The oval "Cecami" mark generally points to the 1930s through the 1950s.

  • Condition: Italian cards from this era often suffer from "foxing" (brown spotting) due to the humidity of the lake regions, but this example has held up remarkably well!

Wednesday, January 28, 2026

The Gilded Age of Ashford: Unveiling the "Royal Cinema de Luxe" Postcard

 There is a specific kind of magic found in the tactile grain of an old postcard. As a collector, I’ve spent years hunting through flea markets and online archives, but few pieces capture the transition from the Victorian era to the age of mass entertainment as elegantly as this latest addition to my collection: The Royal Cinema in Ashford, Kent.

This postcard, part of "The Nevitsky Collection" under the "Lost Empires and Picture Palaces" series (No. 1), isn't just a piece of cardstock; it is a portal to a time when going to the "flicks" was a grand, formal event.


A sepia-toned vintage postcard showing the exterior of the Royal Cinema de Luxe in Ashford, Kent, during the early 20th century. The building features a grand, ornate white facade with a Dutch-style gabled roof and a prominent marquee reading "Living Pictures - Royal Cinema De Luxe." Several men in suits and caps stand near the entrance alongside movie posters, while a few children gather to the right. The architectural style includes arched windows and decorative planters on a second-level balcony.
Royal Cinema, Ashford, Kent

An Architectural Gem in the Heart of Kent

Looking at the front of the postcard, the first thing that strikes you is the building's imposing façade. The Royal Cinema de Luxe, as the marquee proudly proclaims, was a far cry from the utilitarian multiplexes we visit today.

Located on Bank Street in Ashford, this building originally opened its doors in the early 20th century. The architecture captured here shows a fascinating blend of styles. The Dutch-style gabled roofline gives it a regal, almost civic importance, while the arched windows and symmetrical pilasters suggest a classical influence.

If you look closely at the image, you can see the staff standing outside—men in formal caps and suits, looking every bit like the guardians of a high-society establishment. To their right, children linger near the entrance, perhaps captivated by the posters for "Living Pictures." In an era before television and the internet, these walls held the only window to the wider world.

The "Living Pictures" and the Allure of the Screen

The marquee on the postcard features the words "Living Pictures" and "Cinema De Luxe." The term "Living Pictures" (or Tableaux Vivants) was often used in the early days of cinematography to describe the transition from static photography to moving film.

In the early 1910s and 20s, a trip to the Royal Cinema was an immersive experience. You weren't just watching a film; you were accompanied by a live pianist or even a small orchestra that provided the "soundtrack" to the silent reels. The posters visible in the scan hint at the adventurous serials and melodramas that would have drawn crowds from across the Kentish countryside.

Behind the Card: The Nevitsky Collection

The reverse of the postcard reveals its pedigree. It belongs to The Nevitsky Collection, published by Piccadilly Plaza Postcards. For collectors of "Cinema-tiana," this series is highly regarded for its focus on the "Lost Empires"—those grand theaters and music halls that have since been demolished or repurposed.

The serial number A676X and the designation of No. 1 suggest this was a flagship entry in the set. Finding a clean, unposted version of this card is a treat; the lack of a postmark or handwritten message allows us to appreciate the pristine typography and the quality of the sepia-toned print, which has aged into a beautiful, warm biscuit hue.


The Evolution of the Royal Cinema

While this postcard freezes the Royal Cinema in its prime, history moved on. Like many "Picture Palaces" of its era, the building underwent several transformations:

  • The Silent Era: As seen here, it was the pinnacle of local entertainment.

  • The "Talkies": The cinema would have had to undergo significant acoustic renovations when sound came to film in the late 1920s.

  • The Bingo Era: Like many grand British cinemas, the mid-20th century saw a decline in ticket sales due to the rise of TV, leading many venues to be converted into Bingo Halls.

  • The Modern Day: Today, while the "Royal" name lives on in various forms in Ashford's history, the specific grandeur captured in this postcard remains a ghost of Bank Street, reminding us of a time when the building itself was as much a star as the actors on the screen.

Why We Collect "Lost Empires"

People often ask why I collect these specific glimpses of the past. To me, this postcard is a reminder of the social fabric of Kent. The Royal Cinema was a meeting place, a site for first dates, and a source of news during global conflicts.

When you hold this card, you aren't just looking at a building; you're looking at the collective memories of thousands of Ashford residents. It’s a tribute to the architects who believed that even a small market town deserved a "Picture Palace" of its own.