Benaroya Hall: 25 Years and Counting

By Bekah Sandy

When Jack and Rebecca Benaroya sat down to read the newspaper that fateful summer day in 1992, they weren’t expecting to learn that their beloved Seattle Symphony was haunted. But that’s just what Seattle Times music critic Melinda Bargreen asserted in her article about the orchestra’s persistent poltergeist. 

“The nonexistent symphony hall haunt(s) ... like an uninvited ghost,” she wrote. 

Those words set off a chain of events that would culminate in the construction of a venue that has won awards for its architectural design, achieved global recognition for its acoustics, been dubbed “a world-class establishment” by The New York Times, and hosted guests ranging from Itzhak Perlman to Sir Mix-A-Lot to Seu Jorge. 

“No room at the inn … ” 

This September, Benaroya Hall — and its incalculable impact on Seattle, the Symphony and the classical music industry as a whole — will be celebrated on the 25th anniversary of its grand opening. But more than three decades ago, when Bargreen penned her piece, the orchestra had neither its own space nor the funds to construct one.  

While the Benaroyas recognized that the Symphony’s specter might be metaphorical, the havoc it wreaked was quite real. At the time, Seattle was one of a few major American cities boasting the coveted artistic trinity of its own major symphony, opera and ballet — but it was the only city where all three shared a venue.  

There wasn’t anything necessarily wrong with the Seattle Center Opera House (now McCaw Hall). “[It was] a wonderful place to go and enjoy opera and ballet,” said Bargreen. “What it is not is a symphony hall, and even if it had been … there was just no room at the inn, so to speak.”  

Two main problems plagued the Opera House: an overburdened schedule and acoustics “so quirky a triangle could drown out the string section” (USA Today).  

With the opera, symphony and ballet jockeying for a single stage, cultural gridlock ensued. By some accounts, the facility was booked 360 days of the year, but even such a crammed calendar failed to meet each group’s needs. As a result, the Symphony could only offer a shortened season, often on weeknights, on a stage where musicians never got to rehearse.  

And they wanted to rehearse there, as the acoustics on the Opera House stage were notoriously and drastically different from those of other concert halls. According to late Seattle Times arts writer Tom Keogh, the space “favored the human voice, making for a ‘dry’ sound with little or no reverberation for the musicians to hear themselves. It was impossible to play softly.”  

Between problematic acoustics and a packed calendar, the Symphony also struggled to attract visiting performers. A famed violinist was once so upset about the Opera House’s sound that he vowed not to return until a new hall was built, and the Vienna Philharmonic was just one of many orchestras who sought to play in Seattle only to be turned away due to the Opera House’s saturated schedule.  

As avid Symphony attendees, the Benaroyas witnessed all these struggles firsthand. But there was something about Bargreen’s article that galvanized them to schedule a lunch meeting with then-Music Director Gerard Schwarz and ultimately present the orchestra with the $15 million gift that set off an extensive, multi-year fundraising campaign for a new concert hall. 

“The idea caught fire” 

When the Benaroyas presented their donation to the Symphony that summer, they’d hoped their gift would inspire the generosity of others. And it did. Only eight days later, The Boeing Company announced it was adding $3 million to the effort.  

While the Benaroyas and Boeing served as some of the cause’s most visible champions, they weren’t the first. As early as 1909, Symphony leaders tried to drum up funds for a new facility. Their closest brush with success came in the late 1950s, when conductor Milton Katims implored the community to replace the Opera House he referred to as “that big barn.” Instead of the new construction, however, the city approved a $6 million Opera House renovation in preparation for the 1962 World’s Fair. 

When Schwarz accepted his post as Music Director in 1985, he realized that the road to building a real symphony hall would be uphill. In 1991, King County citizens rejected a levy to fund a new hall across from the opera house, prompting The Atlanta Journal Constitution to declare, “The symphony’s credibility, and its credit, [are] shot.”  

But after the Benaroyas and Boeing offered themselves as co-signers of sorts, then-Mayor Norm Rice stepped in with a suggestion to seal the deal. Whereas all previous efforts revolved around constructing a new facility on the Seattle Center grounds, Rice proposed the Symphony move downtown. The Seattle Art Museum (SAM) had opened on First Avenue only a year before, and Rice was convinced a concert hall nearby would breathe new life into the struggling area.  

He wasn’t the only one. According to The Seattle Times, “the idea of building a world-class hall across the street from SAM caught fire.”  

For the next several years, project proponents fanned those flickers of excitement into a blaze. By the campaign’s end, the nearly $118.1 million raised in public and private funds for the Benaroya Hall project set a record for the largest amount ever raised by an arts organization in Washington State, with more than 3,000 donors contributing gifts of all sizes. At the time, it also placed the Seattle Symphony second in the nation among arts groups attracting private support. 

As impressive as it was, the fundraising was only the first step. The next steps would be much trickier to navigate.  

“This is where not to put a concert hall” 

The city had set aside an entire block for the 187,000-square-foot project. The problem? “If you were to pick a site in downtown Seattle where not to put a concert hall, [this] would probably be it,” said Jon Magnusson, the principal structural engineer for the project.  

That block was surrounded by four busy intersections. A major bus route ran along one side, and the entire site sat right atop the Great Northern Tunnel, through which nearly 50 freight and passenger trains rumbled daily. 

For the orchestra to contend with this symphony of unwanted sounds, a phalanx of designers and acousticians would need to strike the perfect balance of external noise cancellation and internal sound enhancement.  

The community paid for quality, and it got exactly that when Cyril Harris signed on as the project’s acoustical designer. Not only had the Columbia PhD literally written books on the subject, Harris also designed the acoustics for such iconic venues as New York’s Metropolitan Opera House and the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington D.C. The Symphony also engaged Loschky, Marquardt & Nesholm (LMN) Architects, a Seattle firm that would go on to oversee other vital projects in the city, including the Museum of History and Industry, the Washington State Convention Center and the Seattle Asian Art Museum.  

With Benaroya Hall’s construction team assembled, the work began.  

“Awash in champagne bubbles” 

The year was 1998 and Bargreen was writing another article. The only spirits mentioned in this one, however, were those imbibed by the more than 2,500 people gathered to celebrate Benaroya Hall’s opening.  

On September 12, the music critic joined some 100-plus members of the press, including reporters from Russia and New York. They described a crowd “dressed to the nines” and “awash in champagne bubbles.” They detailed how “cameras and bright lights sprouted like high-tech mushrooms all over” and how “flashbulbs and TV cameras followed the patrons.” They listed the visiting performers (including Gladys Knight and Yo-Yo Ma) who would christen the newly constructed concert hall, and they quoted Gerard Schwarz when he declared the opening “worthy of our orchestra and of Benaroya Hall’s stature as one of the world’s greatest concert venues.”  

News articles also laid out the components of the venue: the 2,500-seat S. Mark Taper Foundation Auditorium that would serve as the main stage; the 540-seat Illsley Ball Nordstrom Recital Hall for smaller ensembles and solo artists; and the Samuel & Althea Stroum Grand Lobby, which showcased sweeping views of the city’s skyscape alongside art installations by such virtuosos as Dale Chihuly and Robert Rauschenberg. 

​​​​Those same dispatches marveled at the measures employed to ensure auditory acclaim, describing the “box within a box” design that protected the Taper Auditorium from external noises. (The stage and floor rest atop a sub-structure built from giant rubber pads to absorb unwanted vibrations.) They chronicled the high-tech ventilation system and specially designed air-lock doors to assist in keeping the acoustics pure. They shared how even the seats had been tested for optimal sound. 

Each paper reported these details in distinctive ways, but every single one dedicated several column inches to the question on everyone’s mind: How does it sound?  

“The merest whisper … ” 

Robert & Clodagh Ash Piccolo Zartouhi Dombourian-Eby was among the musicians who delivered an answer that opening night. Twenty-five years later, her voice still sparkles with excitement as she recalls the momentous event.   

“I remember being thrilled that the audience was going to hear the orchestra as it really sounded … as so warm, so present, capable of a whole range,” she said. Where the Opera House’s multi-purpose room acoustics struggled to capture the orchestra’s dynamics, Benaroya Hall celebrated them. “It was just so much truer to our sound.”  

That sound sent audiences to their feet for more than a half dozen standing ovations on opening night, with one lasting as long as six minutes, according to some accounts. “The audience was just so, so pumped,” Zart recalled. “It seemed like an immediate impression was made, and everybody loved it.”  

That included the musicians themselves. “Everybody was ecstatic. We knew we had reached new heights, that we were moving into a new part of our history,” she said. “It sounds corny to say, but [Benaroya Hall] launched us into the 21st century, almost literally. It really put us on the map.” 

Retired Seattle Symphony Trombone David Lawrence Ritt also played that opening night and recalls the pristine acoustics. “The merest whisper could be heard, while somehow filling the entire hall,” he said. “I realized that the hall itself is an instrument.” 

“A city other cities envy” 

After 25 years, there’s no doubt this particular instrument changed lives — and a city’s outlook.  

The desired downtown economic boom happened. According to Visit Seattle, up to 40 percent of all nonprofit arts attendees in the county travel from outside of King County, and the tourism organization said the Seattle Symphony and its space deserve much of the credit.  

“Cultural tourism is a significant driver of visitors to Seattle and having a truly exceptional venue like Benaroya Hall within walking distance of our convention center and close to more than 70 hotels in our downtown core is a noteworthy advantage,” said Tracey Wickersham, Senior Director of Cultural Tourism for Visit Seattle. “This acoustically gorgeous performance space is a major draw for downtown Seattle.”  

The numbers confirm it. With around 500,000 visitors attending some 450-plus events annually, Benaroya Hall emerged as the most visited performing arts venue in Seattle. Many come solely for the Symphony and the sound it can produce in the hall. But the venue houses more than just the orchestra.  

With multiple stages under its roof, Benaroya Hall also serves as home to several other organizations, with regular events held by such groups as the Seattle Chamber Music Society, the Seattle Repertory Jazz Orchestra, and Seattle Arts & Lectures. 

But no organization evolved more than the Seattle Symphony itself. In the first season after the hall’s opening, the orchestra saw a 50 percent increase in subscribers, countless sold-out performances and increased revenue. Where the previous stage struggled when it came to big name guests, Benaroya Hall has welcomed such public figures as Nelson Mandela and Barack Obama. The Symphony has also been able to expand on its community outreach, concerts and programs, honoring its vital partnership with the City of Seattle by giving back to the community — via free and discounted tickets, educational and community activities, and discounted venue rentals that add up to more than $2 million benefiting local schools, nonprofit groups and underserved populations — as well as building upon established recording capabilities and launching its own label, Seattle Symphony Media. 

The venue has not only proved an undeniable success. It has withstood the test of time. “The opening of Benaroya Hall was a defining moment for the city of Seattle, anchoring it and the Seattle Symphony as an essential part of the much-needed urban renewal of downtown,” says Krishna Thiagarajan, President & CEO of the Seattle Symphony. “Twenty-five years later, Benaroya Hall is one of the finest halls in the nation. We look forward to sharing more inspiring performances with new audiences, hoping to spread the profound impact music can have on our lives and community.”

While Bargreen’s​ reporting from three decades earlier might have ignited the push, she eschews any credit. “It was an idea whose time had come. To me, [Benaroya Hall] is Seattle’s dream come true, and the result is that Seattle is a city that other cities envy. I go into the hall, and I feel like you do when you enter a cathedral or an important place of worship. It still feels like a privilege to be [here], because it’s so beautiful and the sound is so rewarding.” 

The ghost has well and truly been banished.