The place had been neglected for a very long time. Though once rocked by cheers raining down from enthusiastic fans, now it was an architectural shipwreck. As we entered the structure, the ravages were shocking. Somewhere in the rafters, pigeons had set up housekeeping without regard for the indignities they heaped on the remains of this once grand shrine.
Now the death sentence had been passed. The building was condemned, and barring an extraordinary series of events, this landmark would soon be erased from the Detroit neighborhood it had graced for so many years.
But unlike the melancholy fate of an abandoned ballpark, this time the cavalry won. The execution was stayed. The wrecking ball was recalled and the building was redeemed. Today it flourishes beyond the wildest dreams of those who had it built in the first place, and even beyond those who dared to hope in those dark days that an acoustically splendid concert hall could be saved.
Today as the demolition crews continue to take down Tiger Stadium. I found myself thinking about the long journey back from the edge of oblivion that resulted in the extraordinary Max M. Fisher Music Center. It was a dank Autumn evening in 1971 when Paul Ganson led me in to Orchestra Hall for the first time, and it was like walking into the ruins of an awesome tomb. It really was reminiscent of those eerie undersea pictures of the wreck of the
Titanic.
In those "Save Orchestra Hall" days, the task seemed overwhelming, but bit by bit an extraordinary group of Detroiters kept at it. They made phone calls. They held rallies. They put on concerts (dodging the puddles from the leaky roof, and worse). They hung on and ultimately they prevailed.
Like most Detroiters, I'll miss Tiger Stadium, too, but I think it's helpful to remember that this city was able to get it together to not only preserve but expand another of its architectural gems into one of the finest concert facilities in the world. All it takes to appreciate the magnitude of this accomplishment is the most cursory look at the maddening, decades-long struggles to fix acoustical problems in less fortunate cities. Places like New York and Philadelphia.
Or put another way, there are only about 650 known Stradivarius violins in existence today. There are far fewer concert halls in the world of that caliber, and one of those precious few is right here.
Thanks to the cavalry.
Orchestra Hall pictures courtesy of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra
It was the summer of 2007. The Detroit Symphony Orchestra was courting (and being courted by) potential music directors to fill the post vacated after 15 years by Neeme Jarvi. Following a powerfully effective subscription concert in Orchestra Hall, the DSO and maestro Leonard Slatkin were clearly smitten. A "second date" was being eagerly arranged at the Meadowbrook Music Festival to test drive some more repertoire and make sure the sparks that flew earlier in Orchestra Hall weren't a fluke.
