Red 23... the Locarno, Tiffany's, the casino and Cooper & Co.

            In 1953, the Chinese population of Glasgow was all of three families. They were soon to be joined by more Chinese in the 50s and 60s, most of whom were from Hong Kong which was then, of course, a Crown Colony. The Imperial Act of 1914 declared that everyone born within the allegiance of the Crown in any part of the Empire was a British subject and, as such, had the right to freedom of movement to other parts of the Empire. The benefit of this to England meant a great many more people would be available to fight in the First World War.

            Hong Kong had been a British Colony since 1841 following the Opium War, when Britain enforced concessions on China. Selling opium from India to China was a lucrative business and when the Chinese tried to end the trade the British acted like any other drug-dealer whose income is threated and used force – gun-boat diplomacy.

            The 1950s and 60s was a prosperous time for Britain. With more money to spend people began to treat themselves and the number of restaurants increased, including Chinese restaurants which became very popular and were usually staffed by migrants from Hong Kong. The popularity of Chinese food was such that Chinese families with less money to invest came to Britain to open take-away restaurants as these required less capital to operate. The Chinese, as the earliest Jews had done, established their community in Garnethill. By the early 1990s there was around 3000 Chinese in Glasgow. Their numbers increased due to variety of political events in China and also prior to the return of Hong Kong to China in 1997. In recent years the Chinese population of Glasgow has dramatically increased with the influx of students to the city, 1,500 studying at Glasgow University alone and living, mostly, within the west end. The resident Chinese population of Glasgow is now estimated to be around 10,000.

            Let’s talk about gambling. The Chinese have always been famous for a love of gambling. A Chinese man I once met at the horse-racing in South Korea told me there was a Chinese saying: If you don’t gamble, you don’t know how lucky you are. I watched him pass a stack of ten-thousand won notes the size and thickness of a brick to the woman behind the counter who used a machine to count them. As he watched the race he was perfectly placid and by the expression on his face I couldn’t tell if he had won or lost until I asked him. He had lost. He took another brick of notes out of his bag and went back to the counter. The Chinese have a strong and ancient belief in luck, fate, fortune and numerology, and, as a result, winning and losing can be seen as a reflection on the self – a person lucky in gambling is considered to be blessed by the gods. Just as important though, is the fact that in China gambling is seen as a social activity far more than it is in the west where gambling, unless it is around a card table, is a far more solitary and furtive affair as though there were something shameful and secretive about it – like wanking. I’ve been in a lot of bookmakers but very seldom had a conversation with anyone in there. They are there to gamble, not to talk. An Asian-American psychologist, Dr. Timothy Fong, is of the opinion that migrants are more likely to gamble than non-migrants because to move hundreds or thousands of miles from home is in itself one of the biggest gambles a person might make and any person willing to take such risks is more psychologically more predisposed to gambling than the stay-at-homes might be. He admits he can’t prove this and has no statistical backing to support his hunch but is convinced of his theory given the patients he has treated for problem gambling, who are predominantly Asian-American.

In the 1980s, my father had a Chinese friend who owned the Amber restaurant on Byres Rd. One weekend, he no longer owned the restaurant. He had lost it in a game of cards. ‘Don’t worry,’ he told my father. ‘I’ll get it back soon.’ And he did. The head waiter in the restaurant was also a very heavy gambler… and I’ve known a few heavy gamblers. On occasions, he lost not only his money but his car and his home. He would win them back again only to lose them a few weeks later before winning them back again and… the cycle continued. In the early 90s I was in the habit of visiting a casino on Sauchiehall St. Given its proximity to Garnethill, it was popular with the Chinese community and probably still is. If you were to visit the place in the late afternoon or early evening you saw an odd sight. Any Chinese there were predominantly women. After the women left, the men came in. It seemed to be an arrangement they had between them. After the casino I’d often visit the Canton Express, a Chinese restaurant on Sauchiehall Street. Anyone who was a regular at the Canton was accustomed to it changing ownership on a regular basis, and often the staff changed with the owner, as did the quality of the food. A delicious dish you had the week before was entirely different under the new owner and cook. The Canton is now gone, converted into a bookmakers, appropriately enough, but the casino is still there and one of the croupiers told me it is very popular with Chinese students.

A couple of years ago, a Chinese journalist, named Yang Hu, wrote concerning the problems of Chinese students coming to Glasgow. They were, he said, unprepared for the culture-shock of arriving to study in a country thousands of miles from home. Their English lessons in China, while providing them with a qualification, was examination-orientated and did little to prepare them for conversational English. Chinese students, he wrote, not only had difficulty speaking English to other students but could barely follow their lecturers. As a consequence, the students found their studies far more demanding than they had expected and had difficulty socialising, all of which led to feelings of alienation and loneliness. The author quotes a Chinese sociology student: ‘We like to socialise in restaurants, at karaoke, or through late-night snacks, while Westerners mostly socialise in bars.’ Lacking the confidence and experience to visit a bar, and at a loose end, many students start gambling to fill a void in their lives. There is no language barrier in gambling. Casino gambling is illegal in mainland China and, typical of a forbidden fruit, is growing very popular with Chinese students in Britain. One student who lost £20,000 in a night said he just did not know what to do with his spare time. He went to the casino out of curiosity, not even intending to gamble, but after watching his friends he found it ‘wonderful’.

The bug had bitten.

"D'ye want a pickle wi' yer sandwich, Mr Bond?"

The casino on Sauchiehall Street has had a number of names over the years but the building it is located in was once the Charing Cross Electric Theatre, Glasgow's first purpose built cinema, opened in 1910 in what had previously been commercial premises. In 1926 it became the Locarno Ballroom. The Locarno remained a ballroom for many years, popular during the Second World War with American servicemen who were billeted at the nearby Beresford Hotel. In the 1960s it changed name to Tiffany's before being converted to a casino in the 1980s.

The building was constructed in 1898 and designed by Robert Duncan. It is now listed Category B. It is constructed of cast-iron with ashlar dressings and cladding, ashlar being finely worked stone. Duncan was born in 1840 and died in 1928. A number of tenements designed and co-designed by Duncan still stand in Pollokshields at Melville St, Kenmure St, and Albert Rd.


The Charing Cross Electric Theatre was converted to a ballroom in 1926 named the Locarno after a Swiss town in which the European powers had signed a peace treaty the year before, securing everlasting peace in Europe of course. It had a sprung Canadian maple dancefloor, balcony café, revolving stage, showgirls and live bands. Despite its popularity, it was closed between 1929 and 1934. I suspect this was due to the Wall Street crash of 1929 which led to the Great Depression. It was revived in 1934 and during the Second World War became very popular with American servicemen who were billeted in the nearby Beresford hotel. The GI’s, though, were not dancing the foxtrot or the waltzes that had been popular in the 20s. For them it was the Jitterbug and the Jive. An incidental piece of social history that you don’t often hear mentioned concerns why such incredibly fast dance music became popular at the time. The GIs, particularly airmen, were being handed out little white pills to give them energy and keep them alert - it also had the militarily-wonderful side-effect of making them aggressive. It was an early form of amphetamine. Many GIs saved up their rations for a night out and the music and dancing evolved in speed and style to reflect their manic mood. Much of the music of the Jitterbug period was faster in tempo than the dance music of the 80s and 90s ecstasy scene. You can’t beat Government Issue industrial strength speed. Also, the GIs noticed that the little white pills caused them to grind their teeth a lot so they all made sure they had a ready supply of gum, hence the stereotype of the gun-chewing GI.

'Are ye dancing'?'... 'Naw. Am aff ma tits oan speed!'

And you thought your granny had led a quiet life.


In the 60s, the Locarno was looking old and tired and underwent a major refurbishment to become Tiffany’s, a dance hall and a venue for bands such as U2. In the 80s it changed name yet again to the Zanzi-bar disco. That phase lasted a few years and it has been a casino ever since.

Another of his building's is Cooper's corner at the junction of Bank Street and Great Western Road. Cooper & Co. was Scotland's leading grocery shop and founded in 1871 by Thomas Bishop. The building was constructed in 1886 and noted for its French Renaissance façade and clock tower and its beautiful fixtures and fittings. It closed in the 1980s to be converted into a pub.

Not your average grocery shop.

The interior.