Canvas

The Age

Tuesday July 7, 2009

Ian McDougall

She could at last hear her voice clearly in the performance, a condition denied her in other venues.RECENTLY, I attended one of the Musica Viva concerts at the Melbourne Recital Centre. It was the Tokyo String Quartet. Although I have attended other concerts at the newborn hall, I was a little cautious that night, what with The Age and The Australian's regular updates about problems at the centre. Should I take my own wine? Would the hall be empty? And I remembered a few letters to the editor about close seats. Would I be recognised and shamed? You see, I am in the design team who worked on the hall, designed it and watched over its construction. I must say, when we finished, the whole team - government officials, architects, acousticians, contractors, plasterers, seat makers - all were very proud of what we felt we had achieved.To build a new hall dedicated to the performance of acoustic music, in the age of iPods and video phones, is a miracle. Elisabeth Murdoch Hall is unique in Australia. While there were early equivocations about "multipurposing" and "halls for hire", the Victorian Government committed to making an uncompromised hall with such a reputation that it would attract the world's best musicians to play here in Melbourne. As well, it would act as a crucible for local musicians to perform and practise in, and to achieve the highest standards of their craft.After its opening, the early reports by musicians were very promising. After a concert, I was tagged by a chorister glowing with praise over the fact that she could at last hear her voice clearly in the performance, a condition denied her in other venues. Other musicians, and listeners, began to congratulate the management: the hall seemed to work well as a dedicated space for acoustic music.So I was surprised recently by the criticisms and astonished by the misunderstanding of how a building like this works. The hall must make music that is performed by maybe a single cello listenable, powerful and clear. And the performer has to be seen, watchable, a dedicated teacher of technique.The acoustic performance of the space is locked into the shape and volume of the hall. In turn, that volume relates directly to specific numbers of patrons. Fewer people, smaller room.We work with the acoustician to balance the patron's space with the overall room volume. So we research exemplary venues and, with computer models, test the resulting sound. For example, our hall holds 1000 patrons. This means for that room, the spacing of their seats, row to row, is 950 millimetres. In comparison, in London's Wigmore Hall, which houses 750 people, the spacing is 700 millimetres. The spacing in the Concertgebouw (not a recital hall) in Amsterdam is about the same at 710 millimetres. Hamer Hall's spacing, interestingly, is 970 millimetres. But then, Hamer Hall was not designed specifically for chamber music; it is a concert hall made for full orchestra.We researched a lot of good halls and designed our row spacing to match the standards for the world's best recital venues. Other criteria are important, too: seat type, seat width and aisle length. Our seats are made by one of the world's best makers; our width is within best practice standards; and, yes, our layout means longer aisles.Recently I attended a dinner with colleagues from the University of Adelaide, where I teach architecture. I left the restaurant, walked up to Victoria Square for a cab and was waiting at the lights when I noticed a small group of gentlemen in coats carrying music cases walking towards me. As they came up, I said: "You look like the Tokyo String Quartet." I said that I had seen them before at the Musica Viva concert at the MRC, and complimented them on their amazing performance (Beethoven, Mendelssohn and Vine). The chit-chat continued and I asked about the hall, at which they lit up, saying that it was very, very good. The cellist was particularly effusive, saying it was a great hall, indeed . . . "one of the world's great halls". I told them that we had been the architects, which generated further congratulations: "Such clarity, such warmth", and "We can hear our playing clearly and directly", and "The audience are so close, the intimacy . . ." They were very complimentary. Perhaps they were just being nice.We separated and walked off into the night, and I thought, wow, what a worthwhile thing we had been a part of. And I had just a twinge of regret for my generation's quickness to see fault. As complainants, do we slip into overgratified, importunate consumers?Simultaneously, we seem to have high expectations of our artists - spectators persistently leaving the performers to sacrifice their lives to difficult art while never willing to adjust to the mildest discomfort or accommodation to hear something remarkable.Best not to dwell on that; I prefer to wonder at the privilege of hearing the Tokyo String Quartet, or Gidon Kremer, or some other miraculous performance at the new hall.Ian McDougall, is a director of Ashton Raggatt McDougall, which is a subscriber to Musica Viva.