Long on character

With plenty of material from '50s-built dome, arts center boasts 21st-century look

By Jeanne Claire van Ryzin
AMERICAN-STATESMAN ARCHITECTURE CRITIC
Tuesday, May 06, 2008

Our present times nuzzle the architectural past in the Long Center for the Performing Arts.

Sure, the civic center, which opened in March, is the newest major mark on Austin's cityscape. But the $77 million, two-theater venue also delightfully whispers its history while simultaneously announcing its contemporaneity. In a singular way, the building writes its own biography for every new visitor. And now that thousands of visitors have flocked to the Long Center for multiple shows — from symphony concerts to opera to mariachi legends — Austin's new home for the performing arts, despite parking problems, has proved its mettle with moxie.

While preserving some major features from the original design of the old Palmer Auditorium — which the Long Center replaced — the design team led by architect Stan Haas of Nelsen Partners Architects also adds a refreshingly new profile to Austin's urban landscape. It's a profile that's at once sleek and funky, smart and lively, sophisticated and welcoming. And it's absolutely, utterly distinct.

There's the zoomy ring beam and its parade of pillars, a monumental remnant of the structure's mid-century modernist origins, which now embrace a sweeping plaza and frame breathtaking views of downtown. Nicely echoing the circular movement of the building, a ground-level exterior wall swoops along the east side, gesturing toward the circular driveway and also opening up the lower level of the building to reveal the box office, nicely tucked under a balcony that extends off the gracious new City Terrace. And then there are those aluminum panels — once such a defining element atop Palmer's dome — that now dress the exterior of the Long Center's boxlike main form.

The architectural challenge in designing the new Long Center, after all, wasn't a matter of whether elements of the original building were to be used. It was a matter of how.

From the project's beginning almost two decades ago, backers focused on ways to reuse the municipally owned Palmer Auditorium on the south shore of Lady Bird Lake. And why not? It had an ideal central location with a site already a long-standing entertainment destination. Palmer's stagehouse still reigned as one of the largest in the state and the building's footprint still workable on the site. When it opened in 1959, Palmer represented the height of mid-century modernist civic flair with its space-age forms.

Without a doubt, the building's environmentally sensitive features and construction methods merit much praise. No less than 65 percent of the materials from the original Palmer were used in the new structure. And of the total 44 million pounds of debris — steel, concrete, dirt, glass — resulting from the demolition of the old building, a whopping 97.6 percent avoided becoming landfill and was reused either at the Long Center or elsewhere.

The repurposed materials make important symbolic gestures. Glass from the Palmer's curtain wall of windows was reformed into panels that now bear Long Center donor names. The massive ring beam — the support structure at the top of Palmer's signature dome — was kept intact and re-outfitted to be a playful lighting element set in the lawn at the tip of the plaza. And that black-and-white marble harvested from the Palmer's restrooms and reused in the Long Center's? That's not just common-sense sustainability, it's downright fun.

It's a downright easy-to-use building, too. Notwithstanding the considerable shortage of city-operated parking available to Long Center visitors — a problem that has come into dramatic example just since the opening two months ago and one that threatens the viability of the venue and the arts groups that use the it if city officials do not address it soon — the Long Center proves to be a comfortable public venue. The comparatively small lobby areas immediately ringing Dell Hall are nicely augmented by two second-floor lounges that jut out under the ring beam. The enclosed Kodosky Donor Lounge and the west-facing open air lounge both offer captivating views while also presenting engaging, lively places for casual congregating. And in perhaps the greatest democratic gesture the building makes, the least expensive seats in the balcony are serviced by a third-floor lobby with the best urban views in the house. With the rows of seats Dell Hall nicely segmented by multiple aisles in a typical classic concert hall configuration, patron traffic to and from the seats, even when the house is full, flows as efficiently as possible.

The 30,000-square-foot City Terrace gives Austin its newest outdoor public living room. Hugged by the ring beam that defines the Long Center's profile, shaded from the south by Dell Hall, the plaza proved its functionality during the Long Center's public open house in March when it played — all at once — a stage to multiple performances, a food court to temporary vending booths and a festive, and comfortable, party place.

Certainly, the project gets props for its overall thriftiness. Compare the Long Center's total cost of $77 million with that of the Dallas Center for the Performing Arts, which will bear a $338 million price tag on total project costs when it opens in 2009.

For all the recycled materials and economical measures, the Long Center manages to feel rich — at least the kind of richness that jibes with a populist-minded Austin. Inside reigns a cool palette of greens, blues and grays reminiscent of the Central Texas landscape. Cherrywood paneling hugs inner lobby walls. In Dell Hall — the Long Center's 2,400-seat signature venue — the cool, muted colors and cherrywood features continue. This is a very 21st-century hall, combining all the best qualities of classic concert halls (seats arranged in curved rows, the mezzanine and balcony hung closer to the stage) with modern elegant touches (clean, simple lines, softly burnished plaster walls, sage-green velvet seats). No fussy red velour and gilded ornamentation for Austin.

Sure, the Long Center is architecturally different than what's come before it in Austin; it's even a bit quirky. But isn't that fitting for a city so besotted with its own self-proclaimed weirdness? We've reclaimed an important architectural moment in Austin's urban history and turned it into a striking new destination that's bound to become a symbol of the city.

In the end the Long Center speaks to a certain kind of common-sense elegance and fun, a sharp rethinking of what design and architecture can do — must do — to remain relevant.

jvanryzin@statesman.com;

445-3699