By Andrew Hamlin
NORTHWEST ASIAN WEEKLY
On a semi-sunny day in late April, Tanya Woo, from the Woo family in charge of the historic Louisa Hotel, guided photographer Joe Mabel, and myself, to the murals found along a Louisa staircase, former entrance to the Club Royale jazz club.
Joe moved around those steps with his camera and tripod, looking for optimal shots. Woo cautioned us not to get too close.
I heard a scraping sound behind me, and my heart leapt. No harm done—thankfully. But my backpack had just brushed up against a swath of Seattle’s history.
Woo’s father bought the Louisa Hotel in 1963.
“The mural staircase led into the basement, where Seattle’s first Chinese bakery had its kitchen,” she recalls. “I remember as a child going down the staircase and crying because the hand above the ‘Club Royale’ sign would scare me.”
As repairs and restoration of the building went along, discovery of the artwork happened in phases.
“We knew of the murals on the right side of that stairway. But when crews took down the supply chute on the left side of the staircase, we saw murals that covered the entire staircase. Our architect donated his time to redraw the plans, and resubmitted the permits to relocate the basement exit and save the murals in place.”
The Club Royale basement speakeasy operated from August 1930 until a wild police raid in February 1931, featuring cops jumping onstage to handcuff the piano player. In violation of Prohibition anti-liquor laws, the Club never reopened.
“Club Royale’s clientele was diverse during a time when most of the city was not,” said Woo. “These jazz clubs were a diverse place that welcomed white, black, and Asian communities.
“This jazz scene broke through many color and social barriers and united communities. [But] newspapers in the early 20th century often overlooked black musicians. They would only cover crime and violence. This is why not much is known about these jazz clubs, except when they appeared in the paper for raid reports.”
A second speakeasy, Blue Heaven, held the opposite side of the basement. That space later became the Wah Mee Club. But as Woo emphasized, the Louisa served many functions over the decades.
“The building operated as an SRO (single room occupancy) Hotel. Men would stay here as they waited for their work assignments. Sailors would visit on shore leave.
“We found secret passageways, dead-bolted doorways, hidden doors, stairs inside pillars. If one club or gambling den was getting raided, people could travel to the hotel and stay the night. Not all businesses in the building were illicit! Many were immigrant businesses. The ground floor, at several times, housed restaurants, a tailor, a grocery store, and a pool hall.”
The murals’ origin remains a frustrating mystery.
“The painters are unknown,” said Woo, “but historian Paul de Barros believes the mural staircase may have been painted by Ted or Louella Tagholm, both commercial artists, and children of one of the building’s original owners. We were able to visit the family and see many of Tagholm’s works.”
The diverse figures seem racially ambiguous, with a few same-sex couples thrown in—a rare case of artwork giving off a sense of openness and acceptance from that era.
Those staircase paintings get the most attention, and they’re visible through glass on the street side of the hotel. But additional images, possibly from different artists, adorn walls in the parking garage and the building’s former machinery room.
“During demolition, we found murals of a tropical sunset, with lush leaves and lanterns, behind peeling wallpaper,” explained Woo. “We discovered an old permit set submitted to the City of Seattle that included the layout of the jazz club. According to that old permit set, [the tropical scene] was where the bar was located. The murals were waist-high which makes sense, that a bar would be in front of them.”
A campaign to refurbish the hotel succeeded, despite a devastating fire in 2013. The building now houses seven commercial spaces, plus 84 apartment units.
Still, said Woo, the murals need preservation and restoration.
“While we were able to secure grants from 4Culture, Seattle Department of Neighborhoods, and Historic South Downtown, the work is not done yet. The basement murals’ plaster is crumbling and we need about $4,000 more to save them.”
Woo maintains her own work, business and creative, away from the building. But she remains passionate about the hotel’s history, and the work left to be done.
“I believe more than anything the murals have influenced my activist life,” she concluded. “It helped me find my voice. It was quite a fight to save them, there were lots of heated discussions, and some days when I thought the project was over.
“I remember feeling so depressed, after being first told that there was no way we could save them. Someone pulled me over and whispered, ‘It can be done. You have to fight for it.’”
For more information about the Louisa Hotel murals, and to contribute to the restoration fund, visit louisahotelseattle.com/history.
Andrew can be reached at info@nwasianweekly.com.