Oak Cliff People has the full interview with DISD board trustee Jerome Garza.
The Dallas Opera has announced its 2010-2011 season, and though I thought Jonathan Pell told me last summer that Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde would be included, the final list contains no Germans – much to Wick’s delight and my chagrin. Next year’s season will include Mozart’s Don Giovanni (a personal fav, if I may say so), Donizetti’s Anna Bolena (at least it’s not Lucia di Lammermoor), Gounod’s Romeo and Juliet (a Frenchman not named Bizet, how novel), Verdi’s Rigoletto (get ready for that La donna é mobile aria), and Mussorgky’s Boris Godunov (which we will refer to as next year’s Moby Dick).
In related news, the wife just told me she had a dream about the Moby Dick set. The whale was a giant submarine with a white face and black body that was angular and Bauhaus-looking. The whale swallowed my entire family, and it dragged us under the water, deep into the whale’s body, which was comprised of countless sub-stage floors. This likely means my wife is nuts, she is having flashbacks from her theater design days, or I’m working too much. She’s also pregnant and due in two weeks, so come to whatever metaphorical conclusions you want. It could also be prophetic, so I thought I’d post it and hedge my bets.
After the jump, the release from the opera:
I got this note about an hour and a half ago. I assume the attempt is still underway.
Those interested in setting a record for largest snowman ever assembled should visit the now closed Hank Haney driving range in uptown.
We’ve got the play-by-play on today’s court hearing over here on our new Oak Cliff blog. Consider it your link to the “right side of the river.”
Are all you Trinity-Project-hating, Calatrava-bridge-poo-pooing commenters ready to get your hackles up and your fingers flying? Because an alert FrontBurnervian points us to this Fast Company story all about how awesome Santiago Calatrava is. If you don’t have much time, skip to the end. That’s where it discusses how the Margaret Hunt Hill Bridge will save West Dallas, “a poor, largely Hispanic neighborhood of heavy industry, gun shops, and small houses.” Ready to comment? Go!
Standing outside the 68th Civil District Court, attorney and past president of the Old Oak Cliff Conservation League, John McCall Jr. announced a small victory in the fight to save Oak Cliff Christian Church from demolition.
“We got what we came here for and that was time,” said a hopeful McCall. “We actually got more than what we came here for and we’re going to get records.”
District Judge Martin Hoffman put his seal of approval on McCall and DISD attorney Robert Luna’s Rule 11 agreement to halt demolition of the church until Feb. 5 — that’s when they’ll meet again at Hoffman’s court (10 a.m. sharp) to hear arguments for and against a temporary injunction on demolition. Part of that agreement will also include a 5 p.m. Jan. 29 deadline for DISD to hand over financial documents that prove more than $21 million in federal relief funds weren’t used to purchase the church and other properties being acquired for a new Adamson High School. Luna said DISD used funds from a 2008 bond money. [Here's why the federal funds angle is a no go for DISD]
In sports terms, the preservationists — the Old Oak Cliff Conservation League and Preservation Dallas — got some time put back on the game clock. Just enough time to throw one last Staubachian pass and hope to find their miraculous Drew Pearson game-winning touchdown catch in the form of DISD’s violation of the The National Historic Preservation Act.
Jump if you’re like me and you enjoy hearing lawyers discuss strategy and other “inside baseball” tidbits. (more…)
If you haven’t noticed, we love Main Street Garden around here. And why not? Unlike a lot of Dallas parks, it actually functions as an urban park – a happened-upon green space. It is close to work, surrounded by a somewhat elegant sky-scape, and the kiddos love it. It sweats potential – warm spring days on the grass with a packed lunch and a beer poured discreetly in a travel coffee mug. (I know, who wants their beer in plastic? I think Dallas should offer drinking in public permits for the non-homeless, but I digress.) The blogger “lachlion,” who writes on “Living Car-Free in Big D,” isn’t as enamored with the park, and posts his rather lengthy complaints here and then follows up here. They are really worth a read. Jump for a reaction.
1. I like the idea of the convention center hotel funding the much-needed second downtown DART alignment. If that deal was on the table at the time of the vote, it would have influenced this voter, at least. Only, please, everyone stop talking about urban renewal around the convention center. Loads of makeup salespeople traveling through underground tunnels directly into a hotel, whose design is already at odds with the surrounding streets, is not going to do anything for downtown street life. Really, it’s not.
2. If you talk to the heads of local arts organizations you hear an often repeated complaint: it’s difficult to raise money in this town now that the AT&T Performing Arts Center has turned out the pockets of Dallas’ philanthropists. How hard is it out there? Now the PAC itself is faced with stagnant fundraising.
3. Oh, and classless? Doesn’t matter.
Mark it on your calendars: Saturday, February 20. That’s when the University of Texas at Dallas and their artists’ residency, Centraltrak, will host Kinetics of Urban Sprawl: Cybernetics and the City in the 21st Century. If that drool-worthy title isn’t enough to get this on your calendar, then check out some of the works by the heavyweights they’re bringing in for the symposium. Robert Bruegmann, you suburb-dwellers will be happy to know, defends the lifestyle of the car and garage in Sprawl: A Compact History. Peter Hales has written about the architectural and social structures of atomic testing towns. Me, I’m going to read Mitchell Schwarzer’s German Architectural Theory and the Search for Modern Identity as a primer because I think that title contains six of my eight favorite words. See you there sprawl lovers. (Release after the jump.)
The Los Angeles Times offers the Wyly Theatre a two-for-one compliment (albeit qualified): it ranks it among the top ten architecture moments of 2009 – and gives the theater an always welcome comparison to Lincoln Center by bestowing the number two spot jointly on the Wyly and the Alice Tully Hall at Lincoln Center. From the L.A. Times: “If neither one was transcendent as architecture, together they helped breathe new life into the design of spaces for the performing arts.” (h/t Dallas Voice)
When I talked with Tammy McLean on Friday, as Adamson High School students prepared for winter break and the news broke that DISD already had a demolition permit for part of the school’s new home, the journalism teacher and AP coordinator brought up a simple but unignorable point: (more…)
We’ve wondered before in this space about what we need downtown, and my old online haunt once ran a piece with a similar mental exercise. It always struck me that many of the small ideas – bookshops, cafes, grocery stores, laundry – would follow if one big idea was brought into the downtown mix: a university. That’s why when the rumblings began last week that momentum may be building behind the Statler Hilton redo (emphasis on the maybe, via Wilonsky), the first idea that popped into my head was student housing. Here’s why: as I wrote in this D CEO piece some time back, one of the big obstacles facing a Statler redo is its inflexible floor plates and cramped room designs. Without massive interior demolition (which never makes it easier to pencil out a project – c.f. Lake Cliff Towers), you can’t easily pull off a condo / apartment / hotel project that fits today’s tastes – tall ceilings, large open living spaces. But with a UNT law school potentially opening cattycorner to the former hotel and UNT’s main offices moving into the building on the opposite side the park, perhaps the city should focus part of its efforts on encouraging one more university program downtown (an architecture school, anyone?) to help build a critical mass of students that could support the Statler – and the bookstore, laundry, and beer garden.
Several weeks ago someone who has been a big shot in Dallas long enough to know where all the bodies are buried told me that it’s not generally known that the remains of Russell Johnson – the acoustician responsible for the Eugene McDermott Concert Hall – are interred in the Meyerson Symphony Center.
This source refused to let me attribute the information to him, but indicated that he was convinced of its veracity. Smelling the possibility of hidden, arcane burial rites carried out on Flora Street by a secret society of city elders (and the chance for me to parlay the story into a Dan Brown-esque bestseller and blockbuster film), I decided to investigate further.
To peek inside the mind of Russell Johnson, and hear more about his final resting place, take the jump. (more…)
This weekend Woodall Rodgers will again be closed to demolish another bridge. We can watch this activity from our 21st-floor windows, high atop St. Paul Place. It’s been interesting. So this morning I checked in on Common Ground, the blog for the Woodall Park, to see what was what. Maybe some pics. I don’t know. But something.
We’re all struggling to do more with less. It’s hard to keep blog populated with good content when there are other matters demanding your attention. But the last post on Common Ground, as of 9:54 this morning, was from October 25, announcing that Woodall Rodgers had just reopened. Let’s go, people. Ask Fingers of Fury to help out, if necessary. I’m sure he could throw you a few words.
D Magazine contributor Willard Spiegelman sure gets around. Today, he can be found in the Journal, where he critiques the architecture and setting of new performing arts center. While Willard looks at the outside, Journal opera critic Hollie Waleson focuses on what’s happening inside.
One nice benefit of having the nation’s major critics in town for the PAC opening is that Dallas opera music director Graeme Jenkins and his orchestra are finally getting the due they deserve after toiling for years in the sound-eating Music Hall. From Waleson’s review:
The most exciting musical experience came from the orchestra, expertly led by Mr. Jenkins. It filled the hall with a rich, full-bodied sound, whipped up the furious opening storm and projected melting, pianissimo tenderness in “Già nella notte.” The glittering antiphonal trumpets that heralded the arrival of the Venetian ambassador in Act III rang out brilliantly, and the plaintive woodwind opening passages of Act IV breathed out into the hall with warmth, definition and character.
Curious about the construction I’ve seen outside the Crow Collection of Asian art, on the corner of Flora and Harwood, I asked the museum’s director, Amy Hofland, what’s going on. Says Hofland:
It’s called Snuff Bottle Court (because of the snuff bottle installation) and will have a wisteria arbor (SHADE!); tables, chairs, wifi; an installation of Hokusai’s Great Wave in plant material on the back wall; lighting and very cool ambiance. We’re inviting Teiichi (Tei An) to come down for events (Late Nights with the DMA, Members’ Previews, etc. and on occasional lunch hours) to serve Japanese hand food and tea. Launches at the Late Night (we call it Zen in the City) on November 20.
Hofland says the space is for programmed events, but they are testing the market to see if maybe the space could work as a regular lunch spot. I say huzzah to that. I walk Flora Street every day to and from work. Now that the Arts District is (mostly) built, it’s time for the next step: street-level spaces that cater to daily life. And while I’m at it, I’m tired of looking at the back of the Belo Mansion, too. (P.S. The Crow has inspired me. My new bar is called Snuff Film Alley.)
I had already been to the new Cowboys Stadium once, but that was for a U2 show. I wanted to see how it performed during a Cowboys game. So I went yesterday. Here are some observations:
An alert FBvian points us to this photo gallery of the AT&T Performing Arts Center on Time’s site. (Side note: I’m a pretty fast typer. But it kills me to type “AT&T Performing Arts Center.” See? Right there. I just died. My ghost is now typing this post. So from now on, this thing will be called the PAC on this blog. It has been decreed.)
We were remiss in not mentioning Nicholai Ourroussoff’s interesting and detailed critique today, so here it is. Bottom line:
The no-nonsense approach of these buildings — one cautiously experimental, the other more backward looking — should fit nicely in our new era of cautious restraint, even if they were designed when the excesses were still not over.
Cautious restraint? The description may be accurate, but did you ever think those words would be applied to Dallas?
One Arts Plaza has that big white square on the side, and the Hunt Oil Tower bulges out like a, well, like a giant H. So I guess it makes sense that downtown’s new Dee and Charles Wyly Theatre has a big rectangular hole at the top on its west side (at far left in this pic). At first I thought they just hadn’t finished the building yet. But I’ve learned since that it’s actually an important architectural feature. On the big media tour this morning, I asked the architect Rem Koolhaas–a tall, gaunt Dutchman who kept checking his cellphone–about the thinking behind the big hole. “You have to have some things where your interest can dwell for awhile,” he explained. Then he went back to checking his phone.
You know who else besides Wick has a corner office (well, cubicle in this case)? Our creative director, Todd Johnson. He’s a high-maintenance guy. Demanded to have a view of Reunion Tower. Don’t know why.
Here’s Wick, looking natty in his new office (and impatient with my photo shoot). You’ll notice that he still has some decorating to do. The large mounted fish has yet to find its spot on a wall. You’ll also notice that Wick no longer has a door (that glass panel on the right is all that separates him from the hall). This raises the question of what he’ll slam now when he’s angry.
Christopher Hawthorne is a fine architectural critic, so it was nice the bankrupt LA Times scratched up the money for him to look over Dallas’s new AT&T Peformings Arts Center. That he found nothing to add to what has been already been said (by John King here or by Peter Simek here) does not necessarily betray any lack of imaginative critical acumen. His lack of success didn’t keep him, however, for searching for something, anything, to say:
This month’s issue of D Magazine, which is almost entirely dedicated to coverage of the new performing arts center and the larger arts district of which it is a part, is full of sentences like this one about the developer Trammell Crow: “Crow was the first developer to buy into the proposed arts district, and the 90,000 square feet he purchased in the summer of 1978 for about $20 a square foot was worth $125 a square foot within three years.”
Actually, I can’t find another sentence like that in the entire issue, so it is not “full of sentences” like this at all. And by the way, that one sentence appeared in this article we reprinted from 1982 to give readers a perspective on the 25-year struggle to build the arts district . I’m glad Christopher was even able to find it, much less pluck it out. But it’s a long flight home, I suppose, and he did have column inches to fill.
You can read the full release here. The gist:
Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones is the inaugural recipient of the “Spirit of Place” medal to be awarded by the Texas A&M University College of Architecture for “significant contributions to the built environment” in recognition of the design and construction of Cowboys Stadium.
But what about that couple caught kunkling in the handicapped bathroom stall? No award for them?
By now, surely, you have seen the cover of the October episode of the “print product.” I’ll tell you this was a tough one for us. We went through several iterations of the cover before we settled on the one that you’ve seen on the newsstand. Here’s a version that we almost went with (and that I kinda still wish we had). Here’s to you, 7 of 9. (And for those who are confused, here was my inspiration.)
