The Glass House

The Kimmel Center celebrates a decade.

by Peter Burwasser

As the Kimmel Center observes its 10th anniversary this fall amid various and sundry controversies, it is impossible to deny it one high tribute: It has become the vital, beating heart of the Philadelphia classical music community. Inevitably, financial challenges have affected the range and size of programming, and yet the Kimmel continues to provide as rich and deep a range of music as has ever been heard in Philadelphia.

What of those controversies? The fiscal problems reflect a crisis in the nonprofit world that continues to rage, except they're magnified by the sheer scope of the Kimmel's operations, which include the management of the Merriam Theater and the Academy of Music. Sure, it was grand when, in the early days, we would get the Berlin Philharmonic and the Vienna Philharmonic in one season. But this year we will get to hear three excellent European orchestras, and the overall programming will be considerably juiced up in April with the ambitious debut of the Philadelphia International Festival of the Arts, featuring hundreds of performances around the city, with 13 at the Kimmel.

Then there is question of the acoustics. I did an extensive examination of the situation eight years ago for City Paper, including numerous interviews with musicians, administrators and designers. It turns out to be a highly variable condition. I have heard lousy sound in Verizon and magnificent sound. It is a tricky space, for sure, but tamable — rather like a highly tuned sports car — and similarly capable of great performance.

Oddly, visiting orchestras have an easier time with the space than the home team. I suspect that it took the Philadelphia Orchestra more than a few years to adjust from a century of making music in the very different environs of the Academy of Music. In any case, there is no controversy about the smaller Perelman Theater, which delivers crisp, colorful sound to every seat in the house.

On the non-musical side of things, the appearance of the place has stirred commentary, as well. I agree with those who find the Broad Street facade to be forbidding and even un-civic. But once inside, the magic carpet ride begins. Maybe it's because the bold asymmetry of the interior massing of space is so refreshing in what is a solidly stodgy urban landscape, but after countless visits, I still get a kick out of walking into the soaring cathedral. I certainly doesn't hurt that I usually get to hear great music, as well.

(p_burwasser@citypaper.net)