After the hall had been caged for almost two years by scaffolding and heavy equipment, the cranes and construction workers finally vanished last month, and a landmark was reborn.
The makeover of the concert hall and of the building that houses it and the Juilliard School is the first part of a $1-billion mission, led by the architecture firm of Diller Scofidio + Renfro, to rejuvenate all of Lincoln Center by 2011.
Tully alone cost $159 million. But now it has gun-metal gray seats and a state-of-the-art stage that thrusts into the audience; and swooping new balconies that, from below, resemble the fins of a 1958 Cadillac. And the front of the building on Broadway and 65th Street has a glass wall that offers unobstructed two-way views -- of both the live theater that is New York street life and the action in the lobby cafe that is open even when there aren't performances.
“After months of bad news I feel like the city finally, finally gave me a little break by unveiling depressing old Alice Tully in a pretty new dress," said Cecile Allon, a mezzo- soprano from St. Louis, who came to New York originally to study music.
Before the renovation, she used to attend Tully's free Wednesday lunchtime concerts. Back then, the crowd was mostly retirees -- and a sprinkling of young musicians like the 24- year-old Allon. For the first Wednesday concert after the reopening, Allon showed up, but just for a quick espresso at the curvy bar in the lobby. She wanted to be part of the scene, but she also had to go to work at her part-time teaching job.
“Finally, finally," she said, giggling. “A cool place for the uncool: struggling artists like me."
It wasn't just pent-up curiosity that packed Tully at that first concert.
Yes, it was free, and now that the city feels sometimes as empty as an Edward Hopper painting of a late-night diner, New Yorkers crave free.
At the same time, they seem primed for the kind of optimism inherent in the dreams of artists.
