Entering the Egyptian Theatre invites reverence sprinkled with awe. Voices from 125 years of performing artists whisper through the hand-painted Egyptian-themed hieroglyphics and motifs embellishing the lobby and theatre interior. On Main Street, the colorful marquee is a landmark that symbolizes the history of performing arts in Park City.
When the Park City Opera House opened in the late 1800s, it represented an occupational shift in the city. The town was no longer ruled by bachelor miners’ recreating in brothels and bars; it was now a place for families and culture. The Park City Opera House was an icon destroyed in the devastating fire of 1898, which consumed 120 businesses on Main Street. Residents immediately began construction of a new theatre and cultural hub.

“They had all these men who were able to work and do the rebuild,” Jenn Silva, the Egyptian Theatre’s Director of Operations, shares, her zest for the theatre’s history evident in every word. “They were so quick to do it, and it wasn’t completely up to code. The Dewey Theatre only lasted a very short time.” Opened in 1899 on the site of the current Egyptian Theatre, the Dewey Theatre collapsed under the weight of snow in 1916.
“The Dewey Theatre was my favorite theater. It was gorgeous. That’s where we got this stage,” she gestures, facing the 300 stadium seats. Images of Park City from over a century past showcase the Dewey Theatre as the tallest building on Main Street. Fortuitously, the part that enabled live theatrical performances remained intact when the building collapsed. “If that stage had collapsed, this probably wouldn’t be a theatre. Or they wouldn’t have built it with a fly system,” Silva explains. The design of the fly system, the space behind the stage that allows for moving components during the performance, hasn’t changed over the decades. “That one structure [the fly system] is why we’re still a live theatre.”

After a decade of careful construction, the Egyptian Theatre opened its doors on Christmas Day, 1926. The theme reflected the nation’s infatuation with King Tut’s recently discovered tomb. “It was a fad of that period. They found King Tut’s tomb, and every city wanted its own Egyptian theater,” Silva giggles. “There were probably 100 theaters across the country around that time. And now I think five to seven Egyptian theaters are still active.”
The structure endured 100 years of ever-changing eras in Park City. When the city was recognized as an official ghost town in the 1950s, the struggling theatre changed ownership and names, becoming the LuAnn. In the 1960s, with help from a federal loan, Park City began to discover its identity as a ski town. The theatre changed its identity too, and became the Silver Wheel, specializing in melodramas. New ownership in 1975 brought back the name Park City Opera House.

Five decades after the Christmas Day grand opening, the Egyptian Theatre desperately needed repairs and renovations. Neighboring business, Mrs. Fields Cookies, rallied with the Park City community to raise funds and preserve the iconic building. In 1981, the Egyptian Theatre became the non-profit Park City Performances. When foreclosure threatened to destroy Park City’s entertainment hub in the 1990s, zealous locals came to the rescue once more. They formed the building’s current owner, Save Our Stage Foundation, and initiated an extensive remodel celebrating and restoring the 1920s theme.
The Egyptian’s rich story is what initially enticed Silva. “I fell in love with the building the minute I saw it,” she recalls. “I kept showing up and dropping off my resume. I finally got in and started to work part-time at the box office.”
Seeking ways to be more involved, she used her expertise in digital communications to create backdrops. Then, she embarked on a mission to organize—from physical and digital history to posters to costumes. “I kept wanting to learn more and more about this building and this theater. I got my promotion officially to Director of Operations in 2019.”

The world closures a few months after receiving her new title didn’t halt Silva’s vision for the theatre. Collaborating with long-time theatre manager Randy Barton, they hosted private tours and catered dinners to continue bringing in revenue. “When I started, we probably had 500 Pharaohs, and now we have 1,300 Pharaohs.” The Pharaohs, or annual donors, are the theatre’s backbone. “Keeping this theatre thriving means so much to a lot of our community,” Silva explains. “We couldn’t do anything that we do on just ticket sales or concession sales. We couldn’t bring these artists without those donations.” She adds being a sustaining donor comes with a handful of perks, like access to the best seats in the house and reserved tickets for sold-out shows.
The Egyptian’s latest official expansion came in 2016 with the remodel of the old Main Street Mall. For years, the performing group Park City Players utilized Mrs. Fields Cookies’ abandoned basement office, a donated space. With the remodel, the basement had a $2 million purchase price. Parkites rallied again and raised well over the asking amount, resulting in a home for YouTheatre. “Save Our Stage Foundations owns both spaces [the Egyptian Theatre and the YouTheatre],” says Silva. “YouTheatre is now in its third year of free tuition. Every child is scholarship-based. There are no dollar signs to hold anyone back. We do stage makeup and music video classes, how to audition, and musical theater. The most popular class right now is Dungeons and Dragons.”
The YouTheatre space is akin to a traditional theatre, which goes dark between performances to allow time for set creation and rehearsals, while the Egyptian Theatre is an anomaly, offering a different live performance every weekend. Talent that graces the stage is as diverse as the theatre’s history: traveling plays, musicians, comedians, and its first cirque act scheduled for December. Silva is quick to credit the more recent year’s success and growth to the operational team. “We have a drive. That’s what keeps us here. We have a passion for theatre and a passion for our work.”

