To spot The Music Hall, just look for a large red-brick building with tall windows and big vertical black banners reading "THE MUSIC HALL" hanging right above your head on Chestnut Street.
Alright, picture this: it’s the late 1870s, and you’re strolling down a Portsmouth street paved with horse hooves and the sound of laughter drifting out of the old “Temple” theater. Suddenly, disaster strikes-on Christmas Eve 1876, flames engulf the beloved venue, leaving behind little more than smoldering timbers and broken hearts. But no worries! Like all good showbiz stories, this one’s got a comeback-just across the ashes, the Peirce family rallies their friends. There’s a banker, a railroad executive, a lawyer, a housewife, and a clergyman among them, all rolling up their sleeves, determined to give Portsmouth back its stage.
Out of the debris, The Music Hall rises in 1878-brand new, elegant, and itching for applause. You’d hear the scraping of chair legs and the buzzing excitement on opening night, as folks in their finest gather for speeches and two rowdy British farces from Boston. There’s a new rule in Portsmouth: “A community is known to some extent by the character and place of its amusements.” And oh boy, did Portsmouth take that seriously. In the decades that follow, the theater is a whirlwind of Gilbert and Sullivan operas, Shakespearean legends treading its boards, and even Buffalo Bill Cody wrangling up his Wild West inside these walls-though hopefully he left the horses outside.
Just upstairs, the ghosts of the past-those who lived in the almshouse and even served time in a prison on this spot-might still be listening as young actors recite Hamlet or clumsy stagehands knock over the prop cart. Soon, the high society of Portsmouth, the curious, and the community would be sitting where you stand now, marveling as Edison’s brand new “moving pictures” flickered for the first time in 1898. Can you imagine how magical that must’ve looked?
Broadway made a regular stop here-Peter Pan, The Wizard of Oz, you name it! The Music Hall didn’t just serve up drama and jazz hands; it became homebase for local clubs, school celebrations, and groups doing good, like the Masons and The Chase Home for Children, who whipped up benefits and sold-out crowds to raise money for those who needed it most.
Come 1901, a larger-than-life politician, brewer, and railroad baron named Frank Jones gave the place a makeover worthy of a diva. The proscenium arch and stage house-the heart of most great theaters-were added, making The Music Hall the beating heart of downtown entertainment. Imagine the smell of popcorn, echoing applause, and that electric feeling before the curtain rises; you can almost still taste it in the air.
But as the decades rolled on and movies became the new rage, The Music Hall found itself showing the adventures of John Wayne and John Barrymore, slipping into the life of a classic cinema known as “The Civic.” For almost forty years, families, gossiping neighbors, and giddy kids-maybe a little too loud with their candy wrappers-filled the seats for newsreels and the latest serials.
Still, by the 1980s, the story nearly ended. Threats of closure hung heavy-some called her “too old” for movies, and the building changed hands more than a magician changes hats. Yet, just when the final credits looked set to roll, a group of passionate locals-The Friends of the Music Hall-pulled off an encore and saved her, restoring this grand old lady to her original calling.
Today, The Music Hall is Portsmouth’s longest-standing ticket to big city entertainment and small-town heart. Over 130,000 people pass through those doors each year, lured by Grammy-winners, world-class authors, stand-up comedians, and jaw-dropping musicals-sometimes all in the same week! And with every series, every festival, every burst of laughter or hush before a scene, you become part of the living history here.
And you’re standing where American legends like Tony Bennett and local heroes alike have made Portsmouth feel larger than life. Remember, as you head inside or linger outside the glowing marquee, The Music Hall isn’t just a place for shows-it’s been the soul of the city for nearly 150 years, still lighting up Chestnut Street every night with stories old and new. Now that’s what I call curtain magic!
