NO other mass medium comes close to generating the magical memories of the movies. The telly, the wireless, even the theatre do not evoke the same sense of a communal occasion. Back when people went two or three times a week, every trip to those grand picture palaces was a special event.

That's why we always get such a fantastic response to pieces on York's cinemas. Last week's Yesterday Once More included some of Tim Addyman's pictures of bygone city movie houses. Tim, you'll remember, is researching a history of the subject, and was appealing for more memorabilia.

It has already generated some fascinating feedback.

The article mentioned the mural painted around the foyer in what was the Rialto in Fishergate, now a Mecca bingo hall. It emerged that June Lloyd-Jones, daughter of Rialto owner and impresario Jack Prendergast, had helped the artist paint the work.

Well, now we know the name of the artist himself. Mike Noble contacted Tim and us to say: "My father did it."

He recalled that there were four shops in front of the Rialto, later pulled down. These were a chemist's, a jeweller's, a sweet shop run by the cinema, and a painter and decorator's. It was his dad who ran the latter.

John Noble did all the decorating for Mr Prendergast, at his Fulford home, the Clifton cinema as well as the Rialto, and at another venue which Mike, 63, believes was North Cave, near Selby.

John painted the mural, which Mike recalled was about 4ft in height and depicted York's history from the Romans on, in about 1946 or 47. He would work on it at night after the shop had closed. "He was a marvellous artist," said Mike.

Mike's parents divorced and his mum, Vera, went on to run the shop on her own until Mecca gave her notice to move out in 1965.

The family lived in Heslington Road, York, and she then converted the front room into a shop.

Mike would go to the Rialto three times a week, to coincide with the showing of each new film on a Monday, Thursday and Sunday. His mother would get him in for sixpence. He went to other cinemas on different nights.

Mike, who now lives at Ampleforth, initially worked at Cussins & Light, the York electrical store, after he finished school, following in his elder brother's footsteps. He became a TV and radio engineer and latterly serviced Nokia products before he sold his half of the business to his partner and retired.

These days he rarely goes to the cinema, he watches films on TV instead

But he remembers with great fondness the days when Bogart and his peers ruled the entertainment world.

Someone else who got in touch after last week's article was Derek Atkins. His particular interest is the history of Odeon cinemas and, because he lives in Mount Vale, York, the Blossom Street Odeon in particular.

It is the last movie house from that golden age still showing pictures, and Derek has begun to write its definitive history. And this is where we send out another call for help.

"It's difficult to rake up information," Derek admitted. Do you have any pictures of the Odeon in its early days, particularly of the cinema's interior? Did you work there or have very specific or vivid memories of the Odeon? He would love to hear from you. His number is (01904) 635615.

"I have always been fanatical about film, right from a very early age," said Derek, who has lived in York for six years. "I have very fond memories of the main Odeon in Leeds: I spent many happy hours there.

"Consequently, when I left school I went to work for them when they were owned by the Rank Organisation."

Odeon is an acronym immortalising the name of its founder: Oscar Deutsch Entertains Our Nation. Deutsch, born in Birmingham in 1893, became chairman of the film distribution company he co-founded, Victory Motion Pictures, in 1920.

A few years later he became involved in building new cinemas, always as part of a consortium. The name Odeon was first coined for a cinema at Perry Barr in August 1930.

During the thirties, dozens of Odeons were built up and down the land. The peak year for building was 1937 - and that was when York's was constructed.

Negotiations with the city council were protracted. They were not prepared to countenance a new cinema within the city walls, and only granted permission for the Blossom Street venue once bold architectural plans were toned down.

Designed by the famous architect Harry Weedon, it is an impressive building nonetheless. "The balcony foyer displayed a high-level frieze of figures in costume interspersed with film crew members and studio equipment," writes Allen Eyles in his book Odeon Cinemas (Cinema Theatre Association, £19.99).

The auditorium design was relatively straightforward, but its colour treatment and screen curtains made it stand out.

Mr Eyles quotes James Bettley, who went to York Odeon in the Fifties and later worked there. "A chief projectionist I knew in the 1960s had been an apprentice based at York Odeon at the time of its opening," Mr Bettley wrote.

"He remembered Harrogate as being referred to as 'the garden', Scarborough as 'the rain forest' - and York as 'Hades'!

"At York the auditorium colour scheme was black, red and gold against cream and the striking screen curtains showed two mythical beasts grinning at the audience and approaching centre stage complete with spiked heads and fearsome claws."

It is the art deco architecture of Odeons that Derek loves, and he is campaigning to save the original look of the York cinema.

Rank sold the Odeon chain to Cinven in 2000, and the company wants to rebrand the York cinema, Derek said.

"York's rebranding should have already taken place, but objections to signage, colour schemes and so on has led to a complete stop to these plans until the Odeon and the city council come to an agreement over the Grade II listed building.

"A truly civilised society would restore this key monument back to its original state."

Finally, thank you to Philip Leeman, of Nunnery Lane, York, who dropped me a note to clarify matters.

"One thing that can cause confusion: the Victoria Cinema stood roughly where Andros Caf is now. In the 1920s it closed, and became a dance hall, closing again to re-open as a cinema showing 'talkies' and re-named the Scala and was demolished in about 1938," he wrote.

"The Electric Cinema was renamed the Scala in the 1950s."

Updated: 10:05 Monday, August 19, 2002