Oakland Tribune

Posted on Fri, Apr. 04, 2005

Muralists bring faded carnivals to life
By Cecily Burt
STAFF WRITER

EL CERRITO: MURALIST Dan Fontes has been collecting pinball machines and memorabilia from amusement parks like the old Playland at the Beach for years.

But he knew he had met his match when he stepped inside Richard Tuck's office/warehouse in El Cerrito and came face to face with Laughing Sal.

Now Tuck, chief executive officer and founder of Lander International executive recruiting firm, has hired Fontes and his partner, Ed Cassel, both well-known East Bay artists, for what they call a dream gig: bringing to life through murals the glory days of Coney Island, Playland at the Beach and dozens of other carnival attractions that entertained and delighted families of yesteryear.

The real Playland at the Beach amusement park on San Francisco's Ocean Beach closed after Labor Day, 1972. But anyone who wants to take a trip down memory lane should hustle down to Tuck's offices on San Pablo Avenue in El Cerrito, where the artists are busy creating, painting and, to be honest, having a blast, Fontes said.

There are colorful scenes of Sutro Baths and the old Cliff House, carnival rides and attractions such as Rock-o-Plane, the Big Dipper roller coaster and Tre Bon. There is the clown-bedecked entrance to the Fun House and, of course,Laughing Sal, the garish, gap-toothed character whose cackle enthralled and horrified generations of Playland visitors.

Tuck, who is really a big kid with a very big heart, calls it "Playland Not at the Beach." He has a master's degree in Victorian Literature and taught theater and stage design. He has collected amusement park and Disneyland memorabilia for years.

He opens his home in the hills to strangers and regales them with his "It Must Be Magic" theater and his own amazing magic tricks, as well as hosting conferences on Victoriana.

He rescued from bankruptcy the Circus Chimera, a personal-sized circus filled with jugglers, contortionists, clowns, acrobats, trapeze and balancing acts.

Why should his work space be any different? Tuck likes nothing better than helping adults find their inner child, and he is determined to make the office just as much fun as ... well ... the Fun House.

And fun is catching, he said. As soon as people found out he wanted to transform the back half of the warehouse into a carnival extravaganza, magic started to happen.

Volunteers and some paid contractors have divided the former grocery store into separate theme rooms: Haunted Manor, Disneyland, the North Pole and an old-fashioned Midway replete with shooting gallery, skee ball, milk bottles just waiting to be knocked over and baseballs begging to be thrown, three balls for 50 cents.

Tuck's collection of new and antique carnival memorabilia, games, pinball machines and knick-knacks rivals most museums. But don't call Playland Not at the Beach a museum.

"That sounds dull," Tuck explained, a twinkle in his eye. "We're not history, we're making history."

After haggling with the city over how the building could or could not be used, Tuck and his partner, Frank Biafore, established a nonprofit organization dedicated to educational and charitable events.

Tuck throws open the doors for free to anybody (especially kids aged 1-130, Tuck says) who wants to come down and help, doing just about anything from providing lunch to helping Fontes and Cassel paint the murals.

With frequent breaks to test their skills on the Midway or pinball, it could hardly be called work.

"The idea of Playland Not at the Beach is to depict places from people's childhood, during a more innocent time ... when joy just bubbled up," Tuck said.

The project is taking shape but still very much a work in progress, which is the best part about it, as far as Tuck is concerned.

"We found the real joy is in creating it, so we decided we would never be finished," Tuck said. "When we get close to finishing one, we'll start another one, in Oakland, or Berkeley or San Francisco."

Fontes and Tuck connected by accident. Fontes is also a collector of carnival memorabilia and old pinball machines, and when he heard about Tuck's collection, he had to see it.

They started talking about murals and Tuck's vision for Playland Not at the Beach. They clicked, and Fontes said he knew he had to be part of it, to help him do it right and oversee the volunteers. Cassel signed on as Fontes' assistant, and it has already turned into a labor of love for them both.

The artists have used old ornate ticket stubs, books and photographs to create roll upon curled-up roll of outlines for the murals. The patterns are stenciled onto the walls and then painted. The walls have been painstakingly covered floor-to-ceiling in white canvas, so the murals can be moved if the building is ever sold.

"This is such a dream project, it really is," Fontes said. "Usually clients are so picky and exacting (about what they want), this is just unbridled.

"It's a neat place to work, it's always changing, always in flux," Fontes said.

Volunteers of all skill levels are welcome. To sign up call (510) 232-4264 ext. 25.