"The Tower Theatre is a beloved cultural landmark in our community and has been for nearly a century."
Prescott Muir, the architect leading its restoration, said that back in March. He was talking about a 98-year-old movie house at 876 East 900 South that has been closed since 2020. He was also, without quite meaning to, describing the same corner where the neighborhood throws its biggest party of the year.
On Saturday, September 19, the 9th & 9th Street Festival returns to the intersection of 900 East and 900 South, the corner that gives the neighborhood its name. Vendors, food trucks, a returning kids' art and activity area, and a full day of music will fill the streets from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., organized as it has been for years by the East Liberty Park Community Organization. Less than a block away, the Tower Theatre is sitting behind a construction fence, mid-facade, with pieces of its 1950s exterior removed to see what's still underneath from 1928.
That timing is not a coincidence anyone planned. It is just where the calendar landed this year. But it means this particular festival weekend, more than any in recent memory, is a chance to see two different eras of the same block at once.
What's Actually Happening To The Theater
The Tower closed in March 2020, the same month an earthquake shook the Salt Lake Valley. It sat empty for two years until the Salt Lake Film Society bought the building outright in December 2022, then announced a full restoration in August 2023. That plan turned into visible work this year. In March 2026, SLFS filed a permit to begin what it calls "preliminary facade deconstruction," and crews from Big-D Construction began the actual removal work on July 6, continuing through the summer, to answer a specific question: how much of the original 1928 exterior, designed with two towers inspired by the Tower of London, is still there underneath the 1950s remodel that replaced it.
The practical details matter if you live nearby. Work runs 7 a.m. to 5 p.m., Monday through Saturday. The alley next to the theater closes during those hours and reopens each evening. The construction fence sits roughly 18 feet back from the main entrance, and by design it does not touch the sidewalk or the bike lane, so foot and bike traffic along 900 South keeps moving normally. If you have walked past the Tower this summer, you have already seen this. If you haven't, the festival gives you a reason to.
What nobody can tell you yet is when the theater reopens. SLFS has said the building's design and fundraising phase runs through 2026, with major renovations projected to finish "later this decade," but the actual date depends on donations, architectural decisions, and construction schedules that are still being worked out. That uncertainty is the point of this piece, not a caveat to it. The Tower has been closed for more than six years now, and it will likely be years more before it reopens as anything resembling a functioning theater. Right now, for a matter of months, its facade is partially opened up so architects can study what's original and what's not. That is a specific, narrow window. It closes once the next design phase locks in a direction, and it will not reopen once the building is finished. If you want to see the actual bones of a building that has anchored this neighborhood since before air conditioning was standard in movie houses, this fall is close to the only chance.
The Rest Of The Block Is Also Mid-Change
The theater isn't the only thing shifting shape around the intersection this year. A 1,600-square-foot retail space at 1058 East 900 South, split evenly between a main level and a basement, went back up for lease in late February 2026 at $33.48 per square foot. It had been a clothing boutique for several years. Before that, the owners of Uinta Brewing tried to turn it into a wine bar in 2022 and ran into the neighborhood's zoning, which restricts alcohol-serving uses along roughly 850 East to 950 East on the south side of 900 South, and a bit further on the north side. That zoning line is one reason this particular stretch tends to cycle through boutiques, studios, and specialty food concepts rather than bars, even as blocks a few minutes away in Central 9th have filled in with breweries and cocktail rooms. The listing description calls the space suited to "boutique retail, specialty food or beverage concepts, fitness or studio uses, or experiential pop-ups," which is a fair summary of what tends to actually land here.
Meanwhile, the neighborhood picked up a new weekend ritual without anyone building a new storefront for it. Pete Souvall, who runs Bedlam Baking Company, has started setting up Bedlam Coffee in front of The Stockist on Saturdays and Sundays from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. It's a pop-up, not a lease, which means it can exist inside a business the neighborhood already has rather than waiting on a vacant space to fill.
None of this displaces what's already anchoring the food scene here. Pizza Nono and Mazza remain two of the neighborhood's most consistent draws, Mazza having run as a Middle Eastern and Lebanese kitchen in the area for more than 12 years. Tulie Bakery and La Barba's pour-over program are still the answer if someone asks where to get coffee or a pastry before wandering the festival. The point isn't that 9th & 9th is reinventing itself. It's that a handful of small, specific changes, a theater under study, a storefront back on the market, a coffee cart that didn't exist a year ago, are all happening on the same three blocks at the same time, and the festival happens to fall right in the middle of it.
What The Festival Actually Looks Like
The mechanics are simple. It's free. It's kid-friendly and dog-friendly. The children's art and activity area is back for 2026, and there will be face painting and other activities scattered through the vendor booths. Food vendors need to carry a temporary event permit from the Salt Lake Valley Health Department, and food trucks need fire safety approval from SLC Fire, standard requirements for any street festival of this size, but they explain why the food lineup tends to skew toward vendors who already do this circuit rather than one-off pop-ups. Musicians and local makers fill out the rest of the day. It's the kind of event that has run long enough to feel like a fixture rather than a discovery, which is exactly the appeal for people who already live here and aren't looking for a new place to be. They're looking for a reason to be outside on their own street.
A Way To Spend The Day
If you're local and want to make a loop out of it: start with coffee, either Bedlam's weekend setup at The Stockist or a pour-over at La Barba, then walk the festival booths along 900 East and 900 South before the crowds build. On your way past 876 East, take a minute at the Tower's fence. You're looking at a building mid-question, torn between two facades and not yet committed to which parts of its past it's keeping. Loop back for lunch or dinner at Pizza Nono or Mazza, both of which will be busy but used to festival-day traffic. If the boutique space at 1058 East is still on the market by the time you walk past it, that's one more small sign of a corner that keeps changing shape without ever quite becoming a different neighborhood.
That's really the thesis here. 9th & 9th isn't undergoing some dramatic transformation. It's doing what it has done for decades, which is absorb small changes one storefront and one weekend at a time, while the things that make it recognizable, the festival, the theater, the corner itself, stay put. This September just happens to be a good weekend to notice.
If you're curious about what any of this means for property values or timing on the block, or you're weighing a move into 9th & 9th and want a read on the market beyond what a listing photo can tell you, Align Complete Real Estate Services knows this neighborhood block by block. Contact us when you're ready to talk specifics.
