Op-Ed; Opera House foes hear fat lady sing

THOMAS M. KEANE JR.
857 words
25 September 2002
Boston Herald
All Editions
029
English
(Copyright 2002)

Construction could begin shortly on a massive renovation of Boston's Opera House, thanks to a court decision issued just this Monday.

It's been a long time coming - too long, in fact. And as pleased as city officials are, the delays along the way have posed disturbing questions about the ability of a small, disaffected group to stop projects of even the most obvious public merit.

The Opera House is actually the Keith Memorial Theater, a magnificent 3,000-seat theater on Washington Street in what once was the heart of Boston's Theater District. Originally built in 1925, it got its new name in the late 1970s, when opera impresario Sarah Caldwell took it over. The new name stuck, but the opera did not; Caldwell's venture failed in 1991 for lack of funds. Since then, the building has sat empty, with leaks and falling plaster tearing away at its ornate interior.

The Opera House's heartbreaking state was emblematic of the city's entire theater district. Nationally regarded a century ago, live theater had gone so down hill that the answer to the question, "How do I get to Boston's theater district?" had become, "Take Route 95 south - 200 miles."

Shortly after coming into office in 1993, reviving the theater district - and critically, the Opera House - became a personal cause of Mayor Thomas Menino. By 1996, plans and financing were in place for a project that would restore the Opera House to its former grandeur, making it a stage capable of handling large shows such as "The Lion King."

And then residents of a nearby building, Tremont on the Common, protested. In order to handle large stage shows, the Opera House needed to expand the depth of its stage, taking over part of Mason Street, an alley that ran between Tremont on the Common and the theater. The alley was largely used to service the building - for trash pick-up or moving vans. Residents were worried about how those services would be provided and concerned about access to emergency services such as fire or police.

Fair enough. Those are the kinds of conflicts that regularly happen in densely packed urban areas, where one use often impinges on another. The solution is accommodation, adjusting here and there so the legitimate needs of both sides are met.

Yet it quickly became apparent that the protests about trash trucks and moving vans were just pretexts. Theater Management Group, the company that had optioned the Opera House and committed to its renovation, scaled back its plans, redesigning the stage to lessen its intrusion onto Mason Street. Various city departments came out and examined the site, with each reporting it could provide the services needed. The Opera House even offered to build new loading docks so moving trucks would have easier access.

None of that mattered. Tremont on the Common hired as its lawyer Larry DiCara, a former city councilor. After the city's Redevelopment Authority eventually gave approval, in June 2001 the residents sued. This week, more than a year later, a Superior Court upheld the city's right to allow a partial taking of Mason Street.

In truth, no one can figure out the reasons for Tremont on the Common's obsessive crusade against the Opera House. I've asked; the answers - ranging from paeans to the historic value of Mason Street to diatribes against the evils of for-profit theaters - have been unconvincing. There are some in the city who whisper darkly that other interests, perhaps competitors to the Opera House, are funding the opposition. But so far, there's no proof of that.

And it's not over yet. The residents of Tremont on the Common, reportedly bitterly divided, can still appeal. They have three weeks to make up their minds. If they sue again, any construction could well be held up another couple of years. The hope is that, already owing around $400,000 in legal costs, they will look askance at even more legal bills and that the fiscal realities will somehow clear their clouded minds.

There's a lesson here. The renovation of the Opera House has proceeded despite such strong opposition only because it has enjoyed uniquely strong support within the city. At Menino's behest, Harry Collings, executive secretary of the Boston Redevelopment Authority, has devoted an enormous amount of time keeping the renovation plans on track. Theater Management Group, now owned by behemoth Clear Channel Communications, is enthused as well. It has substantial resources and the ability to persevere year after year.

Even so, prospects for the Opera House are still dicey. Moreover, that kind of support, both political and financial, is rare. There are a host of lesser projects around the city that regularly get derailed because of even the slightest opposition. The sad lesson from the Opera House, regrettably, is that it is easier to stop something than it is to make it happen.

Tom Keane writes Wednesdays and Fridays in the Herald. He can be reached at tomkeane@tomkeane.com.

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