lonesomebeehive

The Henry Art Gallery Auditorium on the University of Washington campus has all the majesty of a Hyatt Hotel conference room circa 1987. A boring, vapid “venue” that would be best utilized for storing mops, this so-called auditorium stands as a testament to the corrosive effect of insipid architecture on our collective soul. Jesus Christ himself could appear in this room and have his message fall flat. The brown carpeted walls, the white tiled curved ceiling, the laminated wood backdrop: more thought goes into preparing a package of macaroni and cheese than went into this room’s design. As each second ticked by, I could feel a kernel of cancer sprouting in my brain. In Ted Leo’s defense, it is hard to imagine anything transcendent ever occurring in this sterile, awful space.

Not so long ago, universities and government buildings were beautiful, reflecting the highest aesthetic values of their time, encouraging all who entered to reach for even greater heights. Sadly, now as our culture rots, buildings have devolved into being strictly utilitarian in function, their form an afterthought. Where once a great university’s buildings inspired spiritual and intellectual growth, now they only inspire suicide.

Of course, Ted Leo deserves much better. He’s an energetic performer with an infectious sound. Seeing Ted Leo should be fun. It’s hard enough playing solo to a seated, sober crowd. But to do so in a venue completely devoid of character – a place that could be anywhere – is essentially an impossible task. And last night, he might as well have been playing underwater. The same show at, say, The Tractor probably would have been a good time, but at the suffocating confines of the Henry Art Gallery Auditorium, I felt like I’d just been at anonymous funeral.

The Henry Art Gallery Auditorium: Sucking the Soul of All Who Enter

Ted canceled much of this tour because he had reportedly been going though a “bad time.” Apparently, he has been having some problems with the economics of touring, presumably why the Pharmacists were not with him. It’s a shame – and I will refrain from reviewing the show as I was clearly unable to get beyond the venue – but it should be mentioned that Leo, like most performers, benefits greatly from his band. Being a solo troubadour is no easy task and Ted Leo is a guy that thrives on interplay, whether with other musicians or when he’s a guest on Tom Scharpling’s “The Best Show on WFMU.”

While I missed the Pharmacists last night, for their sake, I am glad they weren’t there. They’re a great band and they earned their name well, adding the intoxicating element that makes Ted Leo such a treat to see live. Up against the incredible line-up at Matador 21 last October, their set was a stand-out. But, even the Pharmacists, in all their magnetic glory, would not have been able to bring the tomb that is the Henry Art Gallery to life. 

Now, I fear that if Leo is truly considering retiring, his fall into the vortex of this soul-sucking auditorium may leave him looking to move on. It would be understandable, but a great loss to indie rock. Hopefully, Leo can somehow forgive Seattle for the University of Washington’s sickening contempt of the performing arts and return soon to one of the city’s many excellent rock emporiums, preferably with his band.

Buy the Brutalist Bricks.