Carnegie Hall recently made a momentous announcement during a news conference called at the last minute. First, critics received phone calls asking them to be free the following afternoon, but sorry, no details. The next morning, hand-delivered letters stamped ”confidential” arrived with word that Carnegie would be announcing some acoustical experiments that afternoon.
”After a period of time,” read the note from Judith Arron, the hall`s general manager, ”we have decided to experiment with some minor acoustical adjustments in the form of absorptive panels, approximately 3 feet 6 inches wide by 5 feet 6 inches high, set into freestanding screens.”
What a strangely mixed message: The apparent urgency of the news conference suggested that something big was afoot, and few music lovers would argue that a plan to experiment with the acoustics of the country`s most famous concert hall was anything less. Yet, describing the adjustments as
”minor” seemed to undercut the importance of the announcement, which was, arguably, a belated admission that the hall`s legendary sound was adversely affected during the $50 million renovation of the hall in 1986.
The panels Arron describes are designed to absorb some of the sound in the frequency range between 400 and 3,000 cycles, as a way of addressing complaints from some critics and musicians about the hard-edged character of the hall`s post-renovation acoustics. If the panels work as the Carnegie administration hopes they will, a major improvement will have been effected. But several critics of the hall`s sound have maintained that a far more drastic solution is necessary.
That Carnegie is agonizing over its acoustics should surprise no one, for the criticism of the sound has continued since the opening concert, in December, 1986. Among the qualities most consistently listed as objectionable are a stridency of the treble sound, a mushiness in the sound of the lower strings, and an echo in certain areas of the hall. It also has been said that the sound of a large orchestra seems not to move from the stage into the hall with the same power and punch it used to have.
Musicians also have noted the hall`s new glare.
”I think it`s a little harsher than it was,” said Murray Panitz, the Philadelphia Orchestra`s principal flutist, after that ensemble`s first performance in the renovated hall. ”There`s still some warmth in the sound, but not the same basic warmth there used to be.” And though most orchestra and chamber players have been diplomatic in their public pronouncements, some members of the New York Philharmonic, the Boston Symphony, the Cleveland Orchestra, the Vienna Philharmonic, and other orchestras have complained in backstage discussions that they cannot hear one another well during performances at Carnegie. This is a crucial point: It transforms the argument from one about sonics into one about music and music making.
Complicating matters has been the realization among many critics and musicians that the hall`s sound can be quite good if the performers take its quirks into account. For example, orchestras that have moved toward the back of the stage have sounded fine. And counterbalancing the comments of players who dislike the hall are those of the conductors Riccardo Muti and Dennis Russell Davies and the pianist Alfred Brendel, who have spoken glowingly of the hall`s new acoustics. As Isaac Stern, the violinist who also is president of the Carnegie Hall Corp., put it at the news conference: ”If you ask 50 musicians, you`ll get 60 opinions.”
Still, one is hard pressed to find a listener or performer willing to argue that the acoustics are exactly as they were, and the consensus has been that the change has been for the worse.
Carnegie`s response, these last two years, has been defensive. Its principal spokesmen-among them, Stern; James D. Wolfensohn, chairman of the board; and Lawrence P. Goldman, who oversaw the renovation-have insisted that critics of the hall`s sound are victims of faulty aural memories, or that the hall`s cleaner, brighter look creates a psycho-acoustical effect that makes listeners merely think the sound is brighter. They also have pointed out that the new plaster, paint, wood, and fabric used in the renovation will take time to settle, and that, as they age, the hall`s sound will mellow.
Now it turns out that the hall`s administrators have been collecting comments from musicians and doing some listening of their own, and that they have agreed since about a year ago that adjustments would be necessary. Given that, one has to wonder why they`ve maintained their defensive position rather than just admitting that the sound needs adjustment and that they were working on it. After all, the critics who have written harshly of the new acoustics have done so out of love for what was one of the world`s most glorious-sounding halls, and in the belief that the damage was not irreparable.
Many would argue, in fact, that in restoring Carnegie to its original 1891 configuration, the hall`s administration did the correct and logical thing; no one has challenged their intentions. What was discovered in the process is that while the restored Carnegie, with its high, open proscenium, is a treat for the eye, the sound we have all known and loved may have been partly, or even largely, the product of the false ceiling and curtains added to the stage area decades ago.
Some theorize that the lower ceiling and curtains will have to be replaced for the hall to sound as it once did. Stern and Wolfensohn doubt that; they say that while future administrators will be free to add those elements, it won`t happen while they have anything to say about it. ”Look at this,” said Stern, gesturing toward the uncluttered, majestic prescenium.
”Now it looks like a stage.”
But whether a radical reconstruction is out of the question remains
to be seen: One suspects that behind their natural and understandable desire to keep the stage looking as it does now, those responsible for running the hall understand that functionality must ultimately weigh more heavily than mere prettiness. And Carnegie Hall`s function is to convey a magnificent sound.
What`s important, though, is that the hall`s administration has gotten down to business. Moreover, they`ve done so in a deliberate, judicious way that keeps their options open. If the panels reduce the sonic glare, great progress will have been made (and without the curtains, which previously performed the absorptive function that, it is hoped, the screens will accomplish). But still facing them is a trickier task: finding a way to project the sound more fully into the hall without lowering the stage ceiling. So far, the new panels have been tested in a private rehearsal of the New York Philharmonic, and the word from the orchestra is that the panels reduce the harshness of the string and brass sound, and make it easier for the players to hear each other.
”We think of these experiments as a beginning,” Wolfensohn said during the news conference, ”not as the last word.”
