Hume is at it again, from the Star:
Nothing to sing about
You get what you pay for, and Toronto's new opera house is no exception
Christopher Hume laments a lost opportunity to create a symbol of greatness
Jun. 8, 2006. 01:00 AM
CHRISTOPHER HUME
In its own way, Toronto's new opera house, the Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts sums up this city.
It is a good facility but not grand, functional rather than flamboyant, much too modest to be marvellous. It does the job, but little more. Though it wants to be remarkable, it settles for less.
Despite having been designed for opera, it isn't operatic; it's more recitative than aria, competent rather than exciting.
At least Le Corbusier would have approved; here, finally, is a machine for performing opera. Indeed, it might well be the first facility of its kind designed more by acousticians (Soundspace Design) and theatre planners (Fisher Dachs Associates) than architects (Diamond & Schmitt). The consultants seem to have been in control of most of the big decisions, especially those concerning the hall. The acoustics have been praised to the skies, but mostly by people who have yet to hear a note either played or sung in the hall.
Whatever role architecture might have played, it was restricted for the most part to the lobby, or as it's called here, the City Room. It's the one feature that is truly engaging, much more so than the hall itself, an exercise in beige blandness.
For the most part, however, the design of the Four Seasons seems to have been largely a question of how cheaply can you build an opera house? Perhaps after the last go-round in the 1980s, when Toronto briefly flirted with the possibility of building a great hall but decided against that at the last minute, it's not surprising we're content with the ordinary.
You get what you pay for, of course, and as is so often the case in this city, we decided we were too poor to build something spectacular.
Not that's there's anything wrong with the Four Seasons; it's just that it should have been so much better. Even those elements not affected by budget, the facades, for example, are underwhelming. The decision to use a dark blue-grey brick has prompted much discussion. Some admire the subtlety of a material that changes with the light; others think it gives the opera house an unfortunately industrial appearance. Interesting to note, masonry was chosen after limestone was rejected.
More important, however, is the failure to bring life to two of the four facades. The building, bounded by University Ave., Queen St., Richmond St. and York St., is a major addition to the downtown landscape, yet the only evidence of architecture is on University and Queen. Richmond and York are write-offs. Obviously, there need to be delivery entrances and stage doors, but the architect's job is to make even these prosaic functions part of something larger.
The Four Seasons' one great gesture to urbanity is the City Room, a huge glass box that turns the audience into performers with Toronto as the backdrop. The stairwells become their stage, passersby their viewers. At night, lit from within, it becomes a lantern, beautiful, animating and entertaining. The lobby will also hold casual lunchtime performances, which should make it one of the city's most popular spaces.
The fact that the building contains a subway entrance enhances the urban feel of the opera house wonderfully, as does the small square that has been carved out of the corner of University and Queen. Though not large enough to change the intersection, the space will also bring life to the area, and help make it more public and celebratory.
The Queen side does have a relationship with the street; the sponsors' lounge on the second floor includes some memorable views east and west along the sidewalk itself. At ground level, a café will be installed, which will also enhance the sense of connection.
But then there's the hall itself, a 2,000-seat horseshoe-shaped room that rises vertically five storeys. With its brown/beige colour scheme and lack of decoration, it looks strangely unfinished, almost naked. The energy here seems to have gone into the backstage facilities — the huge stages, flytower, lighting and the pit. This hall will be a treat for performers, if not visitors.
To be fair, the sightlines are uniformly good and although the quality of the acoustics remains to be seen — or rather, heard — no effort has been spared. The interior surfaces — hard, soft and stippled — curve, undulate and shift, all in an attempt to provide the complete acoustical experience. Whether or not all this work pays off only time will tell. The fact is, however, that acoustics are still something of a voodoo science; if they weren't, every hall would be sound perfect. Certainly, one hopes the listeners like what they hear at Four Seasons; it has little else to fall back on.
The irony in Toronto is that the best acoustics are still in Massey Hall, which sits dark most nights, and the most beautiful (new) hall is the Princess of Wales. The latter offers a lesson in how a theatrical building must itself be theatrical. The interiors — hall, lobbies and even washrooms — are thoroughly enticing and the back facades brought to life through an enormous mural painted by Frank Stella.
The final irony may be that the Four Seasons will never be the architectural equal of the building it replaces, the Hummingbird Centre. Even if the acoustics turn out to be superior, as a piece of pure architecture the Four Seasons will never be significant.
If the Four Seasons is important to Toronto it's because the city has made an opera house a condition of maturity, even of its own coming of age. That's all very well, but if we're going to invest so much meaning in a single structure, shouldn't we have built something that can bear the load of such expectations?
The Four Seasons, for all the good intentions, never rises to the occasion. That's not to say it fails, but neither can it be considered a success. To those for whom an opera house is simply a venue for musical theatre, it will be welcomed with open arms. To those for whom an opera house is a symbol of civic greatness, it will be a disappointment.
AoD