They say you begin to truly notice things only when you are asked to. I did too, in journalism school, while completing an assignment for my ‘Basics of photography’ class. As I hunted for themes, I noticed her — red-bricked, withered, and abandoned, while changing trains between Chennai Central Station and Park Town. I photographed her under the “architecture” subhead, as many must have before me, except without ever learning her story.
At my viva exam, the external faculty, after seeing her picture in my final submission, asked me what her name was. I had never imagined the stretch of the EVR Road without her. She had always been there in my peripheral vision, as I paused to admire the lit Ripon Building and the bustling MGR Central Station. Yet, I had never bothered to learn as little as her name. The disappointed examiner said, “Victoria Hall”, adding that it is an important landmark of theatre and the arts and the site where Chennai first watched motion cinema. From then on, I truly noticed her. Her damaged roof, pigeons nesting freely, lush vegetation taking root within her walls.
But over the last three years, the scene has changed — construction workers replacing pigeons, stacks of tiles replacing wild growth, and, slowly, even her roof finding repair. In December 2025 came the announcement: Victoria Public Hall, restored to its former glory by the Greater Chennai Corporation, was open to public.
Driven by curiosity, I visited on a weekday afternoon. Entry required scanning a QR code and booking a slot online. Each slot lasts ninety minutes and includes reserving a seat in the audio-visual room.
As the gates reopened post lunch, the heat had begun to settle in. From the outside, the building looked stunning. Freshly planted grass and greenery lined its edges, dotted with small yellow flowers that stood out in contrast. A short walk led to the main entrance, where a large stone slab bore the names of the trustees who funded the hall in the 1880s.
Inside the retrofitted and now disabled-friendly building, history was carefully exhibited. The displays traced the vision of architect RF Chisholm, explaining his design philosophy and the way the structure emerged as a distinctive blend of Romanesque style infused with Gothic and Mughal elements. The exhibition also detailed the role of Namberumal Chetty, the master builder of Madras, and explained the materials and techniques used in the construction.
Above all, the exhibition illuminated the life the building once housed. It spoke of Pammal Sambanda Mudaliar and his troupe, who began staging plays within these halls, transforming the space into a vibrant centre of theatre. It recalled how the first demand for Adi Dravidar entry into temples was raised inside the same halls, and how the space became a meeting ground for the social justice movement.
The exhibition also revealed lesser-known facets of the building’s cultural legacy. A snooker table stood as a reminder that the hall had introduced snooker to Madras’s audiences, while displays noted that the building had screened the city’s first motion pictures. Together, these details painted a vivid portrait of a space that had been an architectural landmark, cultural crucible, and social forum all at once.
A quick audio visual film also summed up the information, and doubled into a time capsule that allowed us to experience old Tamil cinema hits through bioscopes.
On the first floor, games were laid out. An almost life-sized game of chess and a large board of snakes and ladders invited audiences to break away from passive viewing and step into play. Beyond this, the beautiful main hall had been completely reworked. The stage, seating, and balcony seats were all restored with care, creating an ambience so regal it felt ready to host a royal ball. Descending the old, retrofitted staircase led into the audio room, where the sounds of Madras unfolded, immersing visitors in layers of nostalgia and memory.
Together, these spaces transformed the visit into more than an exhibition, offering instead a journey through the cultural, social, and everyday life of Madras itself.