Five Senses: One Worcester

It was complete darkness in the enormous hall with the exception of a single sconce. It was lit up under the cloister-like walkways in the distance like the emergency exit of a movie theater. Bob, the executive director of Mechanics Hall started up what I imagined to be a giant lever, which would light up the entire hall, in the back room as he told me of the history of the building with immense pride.

Four massive chandeliers began to brighten one at a time, lighting the entire space. They were simple in design; each had three gold rings smaller than the next and were lined with short spokes that held a single light bulb on their ends. These four magnificent chandeliers created extraordinary warm lighting against the coffered ceilings, which were painted powder blue and cream with accents of maroon.

With the entire hall illuminated, every fine detail in the decorative molding was easy to see. All four walls of the balcony were covered with stern looking oil portraits of wrinkled and respected old men sitting above all others to enjoy the show. Above each painting was incredible detail of plaster-sculpted leaves with gilt accented painted berries. In between the ornamental architecture of the ceilings and walls were murals of golden Greek goddesses playing ancient musical instruments. On the far right wall, painted in decorative calligraphy, read the words Poetry and Prose on an open book that’s spine was intertwined with pale pink roses.

The stage was disorganized, and filled with red chairs piled in clusters facing senselessly placed music stands. There were subtle scratches on the wood where musicians had shifted in their seats from countless concerts. A brass railing and steps led to the grand organ, which overwhelmed the stage. The Corinthian columns on either side of the organ contrasted the golden pipes with shades of white like the foam of a latte or the shell of an egg. Its elegance made the wooden piano of keys, ranks, and stops below look very plain. Directly above the looming organ was the Greek mural of two women looking out with a telescope, and as I strained my neck to look up above me, I realized that the ceiling’s blue opened up the room much like a sky opens up the Earth below.

As I took my leave from the hall I noticed a wrinkle in the in the edge of the burgundy carpet that covered the entirety of the walnut hardwood floors. I crossed over the molding, down the grand staircase, and out of the silent show.