From a distance, the new Steppenwolf Theatre at 1650 N. Halsted St. signals its presence with a marvelous 47-foot-tall vertical sign spelling out its name in steel and red neon letters.
The sign has a 1920s look, but more to the point it has a thoroughly urban, slightly harsh, almost industrial character that speaks of Chicago. This is, after all, a city that has never shucked its big shoulders image even if it does occasionally put on fancy architectural airs.
Steppenwolf`s link with romantic toughness even extends to some members of its ensemble, notably John Malkovich, who can persuasively portray characters capable of prying off beer bottle caps with their teeth.
And so it was that the architects who designed the new theater eschewed any sissified suburban glossiness. If the gritty work they finally produced falls short of distinction in some respects, the Steppenwolf still ranks as an impressive new venue for legitimate theater-far outclassing its cramped former quarters further north in the booming Halsted Street corridor.
John Morris of James, Morris & Kutyla was point man in this architectural effort. Other key members of the team were Richard Pilbrow, a British theater design consultant now based in Connecticut; Kevin Rigdon, Steppenwolf`s resident designer; and Lisec and Biederman Ltd., shell construction architects.
The big Steppenwolf sign has become a kind of instant landmark on the Halsted nightlife strip, and the building`s telltale profile (showing its tall flyloft at the rear) also helps sharpen its functional identity.
These two identifying characteristics are particularly important because the concrete and brick, big-windowed east facade facing Halsted is a rather nondescript composition. The streetside wall is closer to ugly than stolidly urban, and could have fit the context of nearby buildings with a touch more specificity.
Moving inside the building,with Morris as one`s guide, it becomes clear that as a machine for the production of plays, so to speak, the Steppenwolf is a sophisticated piece of work. With a couple of small exceptions, it also ranks quite well as a pleasant environment for its audiences. The needs of stagecraft and audience comfort are not mutually exclusive, of course, but budget constraints made some tradeoffs necessary.
Surely the most important thing to understand about the building from a purely structural standpoint is that it is in effect two buildings butted up against each other almost invisibly to block traffic-generated vibration and noise.
Morris explained that experts used delicate subsoil probes and measuring equipment on the Steppenwolf site to detect vibration sources.
Three distinctive sound ”signatures” were recorded. One resulted quite obviously from buses and other vehicles pounding their way down potholed Halsted, while a second, less powerful, was traced to the nearby CTA elevated. The weakest signature in the vibration stream was puzzling for a while, but the experts finally realized it was originating in the subway that undercuts the neighborhood.
To defeat most of these rumblings, engineers devised an isolation joint that cuts through the entire building, parallel with Halsted, at the point where one steps from the lobby into the auditorium. The joint is inconspicuous but clearly visible in many places, and prevents streetside rumblings from passing into the performance area. It also blocks vibrations from
Steppenwolf`s own mechanical gear, notably air conditioning chillers on the roof.
Another major sound problem was posed by the fact that a rehearsal room directly above the 500-seat mainstage auditorium will eventually be converted into a 120-seat ”black box” studio theater, yielding a potential of simultaneous performances. To prevent any noise trickle-down from upstairs, designers employed a ”floating” floor system with special fiberglass fittings and an air space barrier.
Silence during performances is insured in still other ways. Ducts carrying seasonally chilled and heated air are extra large, but taper down as they become more distant from the fans that provide propulsion. This prevents the disturbing sound of air rushing through tight spaces, which at its worst in some theaters can muffle the words of actors. Even the light dimmers at Steppenwolf emit no hum.
The new Steppenwolf has other features which enhance its stagecraft capabilities. Among these is ”trap” space beneath the stage floor, which simplifies use of such devices as the turntable that carried a grand piano around the stage in ”Another Time,” Steppenwolf`s first production in its new home last spring.
Other technical and support facilities unseen by audiences appear well thought-out and efficient. Morris himself came into the practice of architecture out of a background in stagecraft. He delights in showing special visitors everything from the dizzyingly high catwalks above the stage to electrical vaults, dressing rooms and the surprisingly large amount of office space necessary to keep Steppenwolf running smoothly.
The bottom line for playgoers, of course, is the mainstage auditorium, which already has served the likes of actor Albert Finney and accommodated a wild Sam Shepard play in which high-tension power line towers marched across the set (try to do that in a tiny black-box theater with low ceilings).
Ticketholders seeing the new Steppenwolf for the first time will be most aware of the rough-edged look that carries inside from the building`s exterior. The big-shouldered urbanism rationale was applied to the auditorium on the initial recommendation of Pilbrow, with strong support from Morris, and is manifested chiefly in exposed masonry surfaces.
In a few places, artificial rust streaks were applied to interior sidewalls when those which normally occur did not suffice. Likewise, poured concrete wall surfaces were left with the rough spots that always result when forms are stripped away.
One can make an esthetic case for such things, but in the case of Steppenwolf the approach did not fare particularly well. Drywall has been applied to some sections of the rear walls, in lobby areas and elsewhere as the result of a compromise between the architects and theater executives of more conservative taste. The mixture of finishes presents itself ambiguously. Yet even all of this is in a sense tangential to the basic experience of settling into one`s seat to watch and listen to the actors on stage. Measured in this narrower if crucial sense, the mainstage auditorium fares well.
It was on Pilbrow`s insistence that box seating was extended out from balcony level along the sidewalls, close to the stage, to enhance the dynamics of being part of the audience. It is a keen if subtle touch.
Sightlines in the theater are excellent from even the back row of the balcony to the slightly thrusting proscenium stage-a distance of less than 40 feet. Acoustics are good, although fine tuning of that factor is still possible as a few reports of mild trouble continue to be monitored, according to Morris. The seats are comfortable, despite armrests that are too short and impossible to share with one`s neighbor.
It bears repeating that as a machine for producing plays, as well as an audience environment, the new Steppenwolf is more than praiseworthy. The new building on Halsted Street also reinforces one`s feeling that a proscenium theater`s virtues are considerable, indeed. Pilbrow observes that at a time when so many traditionally configured theaters have been torn down, it is good to see Steppenwolf returning to the past for inspiration. Certainly many Chicagoans, possibly a bit tired of black-box venues, will agree.
