Music to Our Eyes
At so many landmarks of note, we hear America singing.
BY DWIGHT YOUNG
At the National Preservation Conference
in Cleveland, I paid my first visit
to Severance Hall, which may be the most gorgeous
concert hall in the country, and the Rock and Roll
Hall of Fame, which is now firmly lodged near the
top of my personal favorite-places list. Since then,
Ive been thinking about music and buildings
and preservation.
From George Gershwin to Janis Joplin, from bluegrass
and the blues to rap and the Broadway show tune, popular
music is Americas biggest and best-known export.
Millions of people in other countries dont know
a thing about daily life in the United States, but
they sure as heck know how America sounds. Maybe we
didnt (to quote that old Coca-Cola commercial)
teach the world to sing, but we certainly
gave the world a bright, newand distinctively
Americansong.
Music is the soundtrack of our livesand our
buildings. When Goethe called architecture frozen
music, he knew what he was talking about. Art deco
sounds like jazz. A glass-walled skyscraper plays
a Henry Mancini tune, exuding sleek sophistication
from every spandrel. Think cathedral and
your head fills with the thundering chords of a Bach
fugue, and I defy anyone to drive through a ranch-house
subdivision without hearing the peppy theme from Leave
It to Beaver.
Its not surprising that music-related buildings
are getting considerable attention from preservationists.
Right now, the Trusts Save Americas Treasures
program is helping preserve the historic Chess Records
studio in Chicago. Like the Sun Records building in
Memphis (where Elvis made his first recording) and
Detroits Hitsville usa (the original home of
Motown Records), the Chess studio isnt much
to look atbut who cares? Songs recorded here
by artists such as Muddy Waters, Bo Diddley, and Aretha
Franklin have become part of mankinds musical
language. Chess records have traveled the world and
beyond: The Rolling Stones immortalized its address2120
South Michigan Ave.in the title of a 1960s instrumental,
and Chuck Berrys Johnny B. Goode
was included on a record sent far into the solar system
by nasa in 1977.
Given all of this, it was a pretty big shock to learn
recently that one of Washington, D.C.s musical
landmarks had bitten the dust last summer before anyone
knew what was happening. In the 1920s, a ragtime pianist
named Louis Thomas opened a popular cabaret on the
ground floor of a turn-of-the-century row house at
Ninth and R streets. A young Washingtonian named Edward
Ellingtoneveryone called him Dukefrequently
played piano there when he was just getting started
in the music biz. As the launching pad for Ellington,
the building could have become a major attraction
in the reviving Shaw neighborhoodbut that wont
happen now, because theres nothing left of it.
Citing its deterioration, the city told the owner
to fix the house or flatten it, and the ownerdespite
Washingtons tough law against demolition by
neglect and last-minute efforts to call off the bulldozershad
it leveled. Preservationists and city officials engaged
in the requisite handwringing over the unnecessary
loss, but the fuss, like the dust at Ninth and R,
eventually settled down. The owner plans condos on
the lot, probably adorned with one of those On
This Site Formerly Stood
signs.
In 1970, Simon and Garfunkel recorded a wistful and
adoring little love song called So Long, Frank
Lloyd Wright:
Architects may come and architects may go,
And never change your point of view.
When I run dry,
I stop awhile and think of you.
Oddly enough, its the only song about an architect
that I know of. No one, it seems, has gotten around
to writing Moonlight and Roses and Henry Hobson
Richardson or Hey Hey, I.M. Pei.
No matter. Though there may not be much music about
buildings, there are lots of buildings about musicbut
not so many that we can afford to let the wrecking
ball silence the melody.
Read more from our current
issue online, look for the January/February
2003 issue of Preservation on newsstands,
or e-mail
us to purchase a copy.
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