Keller Auditorium, the grand old dame of Portland’s formal concert scene, is long overdue for renovations, both technical and cosmetic. However, revelations from the past 10-15 years, about an increasingly likely major earthquake in the Cascadia subduction zone, mean that such a project will need to dig deeper than the upholstery.
The venerable venue—which was last updated in the late ‘60s—is still structurally dependent on brick masonry walls from the original construction in 1917. And so, like many of the city’s approximately 1,600 unreinforced masonry buildings, the Keller is expected to crumble whenever the much-awaited “Big One” hits.
But while some structures can get by with a visible plaque that nobody reads about the dangers therein, the Keller could take with it over 3,000 theater-lovers and thespians if they happen to be inside. That’s bad business for the home of any ballet-loving family’s annual Nutcracker sojourn, or the increasingly satisfying touring Broadway productions, like this
season’s Wicked.
Beyond its seismically-unstable foundation, the Keller is showing its age—with a sound system and acoustic design that isn’t on par with its contemporary institutions in other cities, as well as space limitations backstage and even the no-longer-to-code loading docks.
To solve that problem, city leaders have been funding research and proposals to renovate the building from the bones out—or replace the structure entirely, likely in a new location.
That might seem like an opportunity in the making—and it is!—but because this is Portland, the fate of the Keller has become mired in indecision and fears of a major disruption to the region’s still-recovering performing arts scene.
The Keller—with its double mezzanine, wood-paneled walls, and semicircle red-velvet seating arrangement—remains the crown jewel of Portland’s performance scene. In fact, it’s the only venue in the metro area capable of hosting the aforementioned traveling Broadway shows and other large-scale performances, including those by the Portland Opera and Oregon Ballet
Theatre.
Located at 222 SW Clay, the Keller is situated across the street from the cascading waters of its namesake fountain, and serves as one of the logical endpoints of what I’m legally required to refer to as the Portland Open Space Sequence. (Normal denizens know it as the sadly little-used mid-block pedestrian pathway linking a bunch of empty office buildings a
few blocks off the waterfront.) Those who are fans of keeping and renovating the Keller, point to the fountain and walking path as reasons to renovate. And detractors point out that closing the Keller for a prolonged retrofitting would lead to a major disruption, as
well as hundreds of lost jobs.
Enter Portland State University, who had hoped city leaders would pick their squat and uncharming University Place Hotel, located next to a little-used MAX stop at 310 SW Lincoln, as the site of a brand new performing arts center with all the bells and whistles.
Most of the major questions about the Keller’s replacement rest on which metaphorical forest road City Council chooses to take.
When we planned this issue, we thought there would be a more solid direction in place; City Council had scheduled a vote for mid-August on the last two proposals standing. However, City Hall kicked the can down the road instead, telling the two top proposals they were looking for a “cohesive” compromise, despite their visions appearing diametrically opposed.
“The unforced error of blindly moving forward as two separate projects is over,” Commissioner Dan Ryan said at the August 14 Portland City Council meeting. The rival proposal groups were given 56 days—until October 9—to now “explore the potential of a joint project to replace or renovate the Keller Auditorium.”
Granted, at that time, all that’s really demanded of them is to update the Council on attempts at merging their proposals. One can’t help but notice the Council is burning daylight, perhaps running out the clock until a greatly-expanded council is seated next year and decides to start over from scratch.
