Arts
Outside the Bubble: Philip Glass and Dracula
by Tom Shortliffe
The
Allen Theater, built in 1921 as a 3,000 seat movie theater, joins
the State, Ohio and Palace theaters to make up Clevelands
Playhouse Square. The city had big dreams for cinema, but tough
times forced the theaters to abandon cinema in the late sixties
and the Allen remade itself as performance space. Throughout the
70s, the Allen featured such star-studded acts as The Budapest
Symphony Orchestra, The Sierra Leone National Dance Company and
The Boss, Bruce Springsteen. Even after hosting New Jerseys
Prince Springsteen, the Allen almost came down again in the 1980s.
The hall was saved, though, and renovated to become part of Playhouse
Square, the nations second largest performing arts center.
It wasnt out of character for the Allen when, two weeks ago,
avant-garde composer Philip Glass came to perform, attracting a
brood of black-cladden artists as well as popcorn munching grandparents.
Not to mention several city-struck Obies. The Glass Ensemble performed
the most recent score to the movie Todd Brownings Dracula
as the 1937 film played. With this performance of the Cuyahoga Community
Colleges Contemporary Visions Evening Series, the Allen merged
its cinema roots with its modern mission of performing arts.
This blend was echoed within the audience. While some patrons wore
slick clothes and talked of Glasss prolific career, others
wore capes in homage to the Transylvanian count. Under the Allens
corinthian columns the audience mingled together, appreciating Glasss
music, Budweiser in plastic cups and of course, $2 boxes of Junior
Mints.
Although eclectic, the audience was not so large. Of the 2,800 seats
in the theater, it seemed that over half were empty. And while the
space felt as barren as Draculas home, the seats were still
nearly as tight as his coffin.
Regardless of empty seats, the Allen ushers, in shockingly red sport
coats, were difficult to ignore. They were persistent with ticket
stubs and gradually a three-row section of empty seats grew in front
of a full capacity section of another three rows. Soon after the
show began, an usher in her sun-bright blazer forced a man out of
his seat to aid a couple to their seats, though there was an entire
section of empty seats directly across the aisle.
The performance itself kept the crowd on its beer-tipsy toes. The
audience watched, rapt, as the five-piece ensemble and conductor
performed and the film played. At times, the music was too loud,
drowning out the dialogue and sound effects. Beyond these technicalities,
the music worked with the film. I was even half-spooked. The shows
weaknesses came at times when the musics repetitive hypnotic
nature clashed with the suspenseful jolts of the film. That hypnotic
feel, however, worked well in the moments when Dracula was hypnotizing
his victims. Over all, the gradual somberness of the score jibed
with Draculas strong emotional elements. We felt the love,
we chewed extra hard on our Junior Mints when things got scary.
For me, it felt odd to listen to Glass play over a chorus of candy-munchers
and beer gulpers, but thats Glass. All different folks in
the crowd holding on to brass hand rails and shaking their head
at a choppy Orchestra, more black clothes than even Oberlin accommodates,
a few smiles and some tepid beer.
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