A Fresh Look: Heinz Hall dazzles during his 'audition'

Heinz Hall was built in 1927 as the Loew's Penn Theatre. Seven years after it closed in 1964, it became the new home for the symphony after a $10 million renovation.

I'm ready for my close-up.

I'm waiting in the wings of Heinz Hall, about to be cheered (and perhaps jeered) by the murmuring mass of 2,769 people who have come to witness my stage debut. I close my eyes and hear the voice: "Alan? Are you ready?"

I make my entrance, standing where Liza stood when she played the hall in 1986, where Joshua Bell wowed the sold-out crowd just a few weeks ago. I open my eyes and am about to take my first bow when reality hits: Just one person has shown up for my debut. He is Carl A. Mancuso, the hall's manager, and he's taking me on a backstage, behind-the-scenes tour.

As a newbie to town and someone who loves live entertainment and the grandeur of old movie palaces, a visit to Heinz Hall was just the ticket. Built in 1927 as the Loew's Penn Theatre, it was known as Pittsburgh's "Temple of the Cinema" and regarded as the most magnificent theater between New York and Chicago. The theater closed in 1964; four years later, Henry J. Heinz II and Charles Denby, president of the Pittsburgh Symphony Society, were out looking for a new home for the symphony. They saw past the seedy and stale and launched a $10 million face-lift to bring the old gal back to life. The dedication was held on Sept. 10, 1971. Since then, the hall has had various nips and tucks, the most prominent in 1995 when it underwent a four-month, $6.5 million restoration.

The Grand Lobby is awfully grand, with its 50-foot vaulted Venetian ceilings, 24-karat gold leaf, plush ketchup-red velvet, Italian marble and one-ton Viennese crystal chandeliers -- I am smack-dab in the middle of a French Court without needing a passport.

Standing on the stage, Carl tells me the proscenium was widened (by 4 feet) and raised (by 6 feet) to "create a better concert hall." Another sound investment was made when the heating and air conditioning units were better sound-proofed so that people sitting in certain seats could no longer hear the low roar during shows. Carl shares an illuminating bit of trivia: It takes nearly 1,600 light bulbs to light the lobbies and inside of the theater -- not counting stage lighting instruments -- and they use 64,000 watts of electricity.

He leads me into various dressing rooms (yes, the conductor's room Manfred Honeck will inhabit when he becomes music director in September is much nicer than the one used by principal pops conductor Marvin Hamlisch) and into the green room (no, it's not green but tan). This is the area the public generally doesn't see, and I can't help but think of the famous faces who roamed these halls.

I ask for gossip.

Carl tells me some juicy stuff. But like the professional he is, he asks me not to mention names. So I won't name the temperamental opera diva who refused to use the rehearsal room because she felt the fiberglass would hurt her voice or the comedian whose huge ego earned him the nickname of "ass----."

I can mention one name Carl has on his wish list of performers he yearns will one day play Heinz -- Barbra.

We're at the stage door. The show is over. I remind Carl that people who need people are the luckiest people in Pittsburgh and that he can always count on me. I'll show up on time and I come cheap.

And I already know "I'm the Greatest Star."

To commemorate Pittsburgh's 250th birthday this year, the Post-Gazette has asked newcomer and longtime writer/editor Alan W. Petrucelli to share his insights with us weekly. He lives in Churchill and can be reached at entrpt@aol.com.

First published on March 3, 2008 at 12:00 am