Sound Judgments

Nostalgia, varnish and acoustic doors: tuning Verizon Hall to the Orchestra -- and expectations.

by Peter Burwasser

The key to understanding the process by which a new concert hall and a resident orchestra find the right acoustic balance can be summed up in one word: patience. It is a quality that is generally in very short supply these days, no less so in the city of Philadelphia. Due to a remarkable combination of factors -- including the uniquely adjustable acoustics of the hall and a phenomenal buildup of expectation -- patience has never been a more desired quality than in the case of Verizon Hall.

The Philadelphia Orchestra's new home at the Kimmel Center did not have a stellar first month. The first time the Orchestra played there -- on Dec. 11, 2001, before an audience of friends and press members -- the results were decidedly mixed. A movement from a Prokofiev piano concerto sounded particularly troublesome, with soloist Lang Lang's playing muddy and submerged. More than a few were left wondering where the emperor's new clothes were, leading to a raft of bad reviews early on.

Simon Woods, vice president for artistic planning and operations for the Orchestra and a key member in a team of musicians and acousticians adjusting the 101,000-square-foot, cello-shaped hall, admits that the "acoustic test was a bad night." But he quickly adds that it would have been absurd to make any long-term judgments so early. With all those high-tech "controllable acoustics adjustment chambers," motorized "sound-absorbing banners" and "sound-reflecting timber canopies," not to mention that "mechanized concert platform extension," getting the hall in tune with the Orchestra is a process. Besides, the Verizon was not exactly ready to go on day one. "Not all of the seats were in, there was plastic on the floor, and the Orchestra only had 30 minutes to rehearse in the space. The acoustic doors were not working. But I heard what the hall could sound like, especially in the [Stravinsky] Firebird."

In a design where every possible effect on the acoustics was considered, these were crucial problems. There was the varnish, for example. Woods is positively obsessed with varnish. "The stage varnish was not done for the first season. There were [for the second season] four coats applied, with drying time in between. It takes weeks. The varnish is critical for the proper reflection of sound."

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And what of audience preconceptions? This is a particularly curious case in Philadelphia. Tateo Nakajima, the senior consultant for Artec Consultants (the designers of the acoustical adjustments in Verizon, led by Russell Johnson), is keenly interested in the historical aspects of hall acoustics. "Everyone hears rooms in their own way. In Philadelphia, everyone came into the hall with high expectations."

He may be speaking of the peculiar evolution of the image of the Academy of Music, the Orchestra's old home, which was built in 1857. Philadelphians of a certain vintage, who can recall the glory days of the Ormandy era, and may even have heard Stokowski conduct here, were brought up to believe that the Academy was a great-sounding hall, one of the world's best. Then came Riccardo Muti, the music director from 1980 to '92, who despised the sound of the Academy and publicly rallied for the construction of a new hall. His condemnation of "the Grand Old Lady of Locust Street" was echoed by prominent critics around the world.

The truth about the Academy probably falls somewhere in between the two extremes of false nostalgia and vilification. But this was the sound to beat: very dry, bottom-shy, and tending to remain trapped on the stage. Verizon was supposed to liberate the "Philadelphia Sound," with the Orchestra placed among the audience, rather than compartmentalized behind a proscenium arch. Never mind that the "Philadelphia Sound" was probably largely created in the recording studio by producers such as Thomas Frost, who oversaw the huge catalog from Columbia Records of the Orchestra's output under Ormandy -- when the Philadelphia Orchestra was one of the most recorded musical ensembles in the world. In any case, Nakajima comments that "trashing the Academy of Music as an excuse to build a new hall is sad."

False or not, this set of expectations has placed immense pressures on the Orchestra and music director Wolfgang Sawallisch to get the sound right at Verizon, as it were. "We are learning how to listen better," says principal timpanist Don Luizzi. "We are reacting to our individual sounds in relation to the group -- the entire sound. Verizon has a lot of bass, so I have to go lighter. My first reaction to the sound was ŒOh my God, it's a boomy hall.' We need more definition and cleanliness. The wild card is our individual and collective memories of how the pieces sound." Of course, while the musicians work to find a new sound, this process must be essentially invisible to the audience. Luizzi says he speaks for the other players when he declares, "Last year was exhausting."

Luizzi's observation about the variability of sound depending on the performers is echoed by almost everyone close to the project. He agrees, for example, that Sawallisch is especially comfortable with the music of Strauss, and therefore produces a more relaxed sound with the Orchestra that projects more deeply into the hall. He even notices differences from night to night with the same music.

Violinist Barbara Govatos noticed a significant difference in the hall sound from different guest conductors. "Simon [Rattle] was one of the few conductors who had experience with an Artec hall." Sir Simon was the music director in Birmingham, England, where Artec built a hall with many of the adjustable devices found in Verizon. Like Luizzi, Govatos is invigorated by the challenges posed by their new home. "I felt like we were in a cocoon at the Academy. In Verizon, there is no place to hide." This is, she explains, somewhat daunting, but also exciting. "There is more of a sense of occasion in the Kimmel. But I came to the realization that we still have to play the same way, with passion and intensity, which is our hallmark."

The potential greatness of Verizon derives from the complex mechanical flexibility of the acoustics, which are meant to replicate the sound of "100 different rooms," says Tateo Nakajima. Ironically, that potential for versatility, a signature characteristic of Russell Johnson designs, is also prolonging the break-in period. Both Simon Woods and Nakajima admit that they are fiddling with the adjustments more than they expected to. There was an early announcement that the hall would not be adjusted much at first, so that the Orchestra could get used to a consistent acoustical environment, but that notion was quickly discarded.

Perhaps the most dramatic change, and one that indicates that acoustic design is as much art as science, is in the arrangements of the canopies over the stage. The original configuration, in which the central canopy was set low, with the two outer rings progressively higher, has been completely inverted. And there is the very basic question of whether or not a large hall really needs all of this elaborate mechanization of acoustics. Such well-regarded venues as New York City's Carnegie Hall, for example, seem to work equally well as a space for both orchestras and solo recitals. But Verizon is what it is, and at least the primary tenants, the Philadelphia Orchestra, are game to be a part of the process. It may be three seasons before a sense of comfort, among musicians and audiences alike, truly gels.

That the acoustics for the Orchestra went from somewhat funky to very good in the course of a few concerts says as much about the consummate professionalism and experience of the ensemble as it does about the hall. The Philadelphia Orchestra has a rich tradition of international touring, and they play together in many different halls. Woods also credits the long and varied career of the music director. "Sawallisch has played in a lot of halls. He has the ability to adjust the balances in the sound he manages." The Orchestra, it is safe to say, has worked hard and effectively to fulfill their role in the process.

For Nakajima, who makes his living listening to the acoustical properties of concert halls around the world (and is himself a professionally trained conductor), the order of priorities for the listener should be first the music itself, then the performance and finally, and only if it is an issue, the acoustics of the hall. He calmly dismisses the naysayers. "We're off to a great start. There have been a lot of great concerts by great musicians. The Orchestra is getting comfortable at a good pace. The people who come regularly know this the best." We'll be checking in.

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