The Starting Five, 2/3/2015

 

Somebody has to say it, so it might as well be me:

Carmel's new Palladium concert hall is the architectural equivalent of a boy

soprano whose voice changes at the very moment he reaches for a high note.

This

is not to take away from Carmel mayor Jim Brainard's determination to make the

arts and design the fulcrum for his strategy to turn what was once a poky town

center into a legitimate metro destination. Those of us who understand how the

arts contribute to a community's character and identity cheer Brainard for

taking the arts seriously. Brainard has gone beyond the recitation of talking

points and actually used his political leverage for the creation of a

significant new cultural resource.

The

result, whether Indianapolis is ready for it or not, will in all likelihood

expand our sense of what the metropolitan area includes. That this is both an

opportunity and a challenge for those of us who want to see Indianapolis grow

into a more fully developed urban center is something we should be happy to

come to grips with.

I

also have no quibble with The Palladium's highly touted acoustics. From what

little I was able to gather during a Community Day visit, the place sounds

pretty good. Indeed, as an enthusiastic greeter confided – and I was able

to confirm to my own satisfaction – the best sound in the building may be

at the top level where, it's worth noting, the cheapest seats are found. I

liked the view up there as well.

My

problem with The Palladium is with the way it looks.

According

to reports, The Palladium cost $126 million. That's a respectable sum for a

project of this kind. It might have inspired an international competition,

generating creative ideas from talented architects around the world. The goal

here, as it has been with many other recent cultural building projects, from

Frank Gehry's Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles to Zaha Hadid's

Contemporary Arts Center in Cincinnati, could have been to make architectural

news.

Although

those of us who live in these parts might be excused for not knowing it,

contemporary architecture actually is news. Innovative new buildings make for

headlines and cover stories. Tourists undertake pilgrimages to see the latest

designs. The only thing many people know about Columbus, Indiana, is that you

can find a lot of buildings by big name architects there. And every year,

visitors show up at the Indianapolis Art Center because Michael Graves designed

it.

Bold

contemporary architecture makes news not only because the buildings themselves

command our attention. Their presence in a community sends a message about that

place's ambition and readiness to entertain new ideas.

So

the fact that Carmel built a concert hall that looks as if it were concocted by

somebody's Victorian Aunt Hattie represents, at best, the squandering of a

major opportunity. Sadly, it might also indicate just how shallow Mayor

Brainard's cultural aspirations really are.

The

intention behind The Palladium's faux approach to architecture is apparently to

evoke the mood or aura of great buildings from other times and places. We're

told its dome is inspired by Palladio, a Renaissance architect.

But

the outcome turns out to be something that seems like a crisis of confidence in

the community's willingness to actually respond to a building that reflects its

time and place, let alone the artistry supposed to be presented there.

The

great halls in Europe were authentic expressions of aspiration and

accomplishment. They didn't just honor fading traditions, they built upon and

extended them while, at the same time, unabashedly celebrating the prosperity

that makes many expressions of public culture possible.

The

Palladium, on the other hand, places the arts, and the great traditions on

which they stand, in a kind of over-sized dollhouse, where decorum trumps

creativity. The effort here has not gone into imagining a place where the

shape-shifting character and quality of contemporary performing arts might be

expressed and experienced, but into a project seemingly intended to appeal to

the nostalgia of an otherwise apathetic public.

The

overheated emphasis on The Palladium's acoustics reveals the project's failure

to comprehend the way architecture informs and affects peoples' experiences.

Superb, quality sound in a concert hall should be a given. But when they

started thinking about what came next, the collective imagination of Mayor

Brainard and his team defaulted in favor of a grandiose cliché.

In

its Epcot-like approach to hygienically replicating a bygone cultural totem,

The Palladium is, however, at one with the rest of what passes for design in

the new Carmel. While the place's emphasis on pedestrian friendliness and mixed

use should be applauded, it seems most new buildings have had all the real

architecture systematically squeezed out them. It's hard to imagine anything of

importance being created there.

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