After 100 years and thousands of lessons, MacPhail Center for Music finally gets a home equal to its impact
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FOR MUCH OF THE DAY, the corner of LaSalle and 12th streets in downtown Minneapolis sounds like any other urban streetscape. But by afternoon, bursts of cello and piano, drumming and singing drift down to the sidewalk from the open windows of an old brick building. The churning is like that of an orchestra tuning up, with so many random snippets—Handel here, jazz there, rock kicking through the brick walls—that you wonder how many musicians could possibly be inside. Thirty? Forty? A hundred?
In fact, every night some 550 students pass through the building that has housed MacPhail Center for Music since 1922. They take lessons on 35 different instruments from some of the Twin Cities’ best-known musicians, including pianist Nachito Herrera, trumpeter Kelly Rossum, former Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra cellist Peter Howard, and rockers Chris Osgood and Chan Poling. MacPhail is one of the largest music-education centers in the country. And that’s exactly the problem. The building, designed to house retail in case the music school failed, is now overflowing.
The center has opened branches in Apple Valley and White Bear Lake, and holds some classes in the basement of a neighboring building, next to the kitchen of Temple restaurant. (When Tiburón occupied the restaurant space, its shark tanks leaked into the music rooms.) But space isn’t the only problem. The 85-year-old building has never been significantly upgraded (it lacks even air conditioning). For nearly six years, MacPhail directors worked with some of the area’s top architects to conceive a new building, but none of the designs seemed to capture their vision of a space that is not just a school—corridors of classrooms sealed up like a junior high—but a true center for artistry. Something that would say: This is where music is made.
The new MacPhail, rising on the riverfront near the Guthrie Theater, was designed by James Dayton, a Frank Gehry protégé (and fifth-generation scion of the department-store family). When it opens to the public the first week of January, the sleek, silvery space will not only feature many more music studios for lessons—56 of them, stocked with 90 pianos—but a couple of things the teachers currently go without, such as phones and computers.
Courtesy of James Dayton Design
MacPhail president David O’Fallon hopes the new building will demonstrate that MacPhail’s classes aren’t just for the rich, or even the musically gifted. That its students include not only prodigies primping for conservatories but also adults rediscovering the cello they stashed after high school. “The perception that we still run into is that it’s for a few talented kids, and probably just for piano and violin,” says O’Fallon. Dayton, who also designed the new Minnetonka Center for the Arts and is the local architect executing Gehry’s plans for the Weisman Museum addition, says MacPhail’s current facility kept its work under wraps. “You could walk around the outside and not have a clue as to what’s going on inside,” he says. “This is like taking a Fabergé egg and splitting it open.”
MacPhail began as a violin school in 1907, founded by a former member of the Minneapolis Symphony. By the time Lawrence Welk attended in 1927 (presumably for accordion lessons), it was the MacPhail School of Music and Dramatic Arts—the “Juilliard of the Midwest.” It offered classes in music and speech—longtime WCCO reporter Bill Carlson and actress Helen Hayes were MacPhail speech students. Instructors taught theater and radio-announcing. There was even a class on bird-calling.
When William S. MacPhail died in 1962, his family donated the school to the University of Minnesota, which dumped everything but the music component and ran it as part of its continuing-education program. In 1994, when the U cut MacPhail loose, it became an independent nonprofit, concentrating on widening its reach without courting thespians or ornithologists. Just music—for everyone.