Letter From L.A.: The Making of a Cultural Landmark, Walt Disney Hall

Jim Farber on October 2, 2013
Disney
Disney Concert Hall
Photo by Jean-Luc Mege

For those of us who lived through the entire saga of the Walt Disney Concert Hall, Monday’s 10th anniversary gala proved to be an emotional and musically charged experience. On paper the program looked like the traditional mix-and-match of compositions you expect at these events, designed to showcase the orchestra, spotlight a high-profile soloist and get the blue-ribbon audience out in time to enjoy the flowing champagne and tasty delicacies of the gala feast.

But that’s not what happened. Whoever had the clever idea to open the celebratory concert with a “performance” of John Cage’s 4’ 33” (in an “arrangement” for full orchestra with Gustavo Dudamel on the podium and cellist Yo-Yo Ma in the soloist’s seat), was brilliant — because as anyone familiar with the piece knows, the real star of 4’33” is the hall. And with its pin-drop acoustics (designed by Yasuhisa Toyota), the effect was palpable as Dudamel, Yo-Yo Ma, and the orchestra “played” the piece full out.

At the same time the first of a series of black and white video projections, designed by Natia Jones, appeared on sail-like screens suspended from the ceiling. Out of Cage’s silence emerged the glimmer of Frank Gehry’s idea for the hall. Then as the concert progressed, to the Prelude from Bach’s Cello Suite No. 3, to Variations on a Rococo Theme by Tchaikovsky, to Thomas Adès’ These Premises are Alarmed, to the Rondo from Mahler’s Symphony No. 9, to the climactic movement from Saint-Säens’ Organ Symphony, the projections depicted the evolution of that idea from a glimmer, to drawings, to models, to headlines proclaiming the agonizing struggle to construct the hall, to a time-lapse sequence showing the towering, shimmering hall take shape.

And when the thunder of the organ and the thunder of the orchestra was melded to images of Esa-Pekka Salonen, Pierre Boulez, MTT, Simon Rattle, Zubin Mehta, and ultimately Dudamel conducting, the effect was unquestionably moving. I teared up. I admit it.

Disney Hall

Those of you who only know Disney Hall in its completed form, have no idea of the battles that went on to get the hall completed. From the original 1987 gift of $50 million from the Disney family; through the presentation of the competing designs (including Frank Gehry’s); through the economic rollercoaster of on-again, off-again funding; to actually seeing the great spider web of I-beams rising toward the sky; to the grand opening concert on Oct. 24, 2003, the hall was the subject of intense scrutiny, discussion, and behind-the-scenes maneuvering.

Today the Walt Disney Concert Hall is a Los Angeles landmark, rivaled only by the Hollywood sign and the Santa Monica Pier.

I’ll never forget, during one of the dark moments when it looked like all Los Angeles was going to get out of this project was a new parking lot, I was walking by the site and saw a construction worker pouring concrete.

“Do you think they’ll ever actually finish it,” I asked him. He looked at me like I was a nutcase. And with a cock-eyed optimism I will never forget he said, “Of course they’ll finish it. They’ve only got to raise $80 million.”

And he was right. The money was raised and the hall began to rise. And as it did, (legend has it) the steelworkers whose job it was to create this building unlike anything Los Angeles had ever seen, were so proud of their effort they signed their names to every I-beam as it was welded into place, knowing they would never be seen. I’m sure there are similar signatures carved into the highest reaches of Chartres Cathedral. Today the Walt Disney Concert Hall is a Los Angeles landmark, rivaled only by the Hollywood sign and the Santa Monica Pier.

Beaming couples pose in front of it for wedding portraits, as do thousands of visitors from near and far. Even the super-elite audience that paraded up the red carpet Monday couldn’t wait to have photos taken of them in front of the hall to post on Facebook for their friends. Finally, as a little coda to the proceedings, after the tumultuous climax of the Organ Symphony, and the equally tumultuous ovation for Frank Gehry, Dudamel returned to the podium, acknowledged the role played by the Disney family, and conducted a sweet rendition of “When You Wish Upon a Star” as a rain of glittery stars fluttered down from the rafters.

Happy birthday Disney Hall. Here’s to the next 10 years!