Print
E-Mail
tool name
closeTuesday, Nov. 03, 2009
The Ridglea Theater narrowly avoided bankruptcy, but the future remains uncertain
The historic theater narrowly avoided bankruptcy last week, but the question of whether it will rise to its former glory or play its final refrain is yet unanswered
By PRESTON JONES
dfw.com
Star-Telegram/Ron Jenkins
Star-Telegram/Ron Jenkins
Star-Telegram/Ron Jenkins
The Fort Worth metal band Morbosity is typical of the Ridglea’s current bookings. Star-Telegram/Ron Jenkins
Star-Telegram/Ron Jenkins
Fans make their way inside the Ridglea Theater, which opened in 1950 on Camp Bowie Boulevard in Fort Worth. Star-Telegram/Ron Jenkins
Star-Telegram/Rodger Mallison
Wesley Hathaway and her husband, Richard Van Zandt, have leased the Ridglea since 1998. Star-Telegram/Rodger Mallison
Just before 10 p.m. one recent Friday, Fort Worth guitarist Michael Lackey stands onstage at the Ridglea Theater.
A small knot of people gather near the foot of the stage, watching as his liquid riffs spill out into the cavernous, dimly lit space. The rippling, keening sound echoes off the elegant, aged stucco walls. Other audience members order shots from the bar, or smoke and talk or play pool.
There are perhaps 100 bodies milling around a venue that can comfortably hold 10 times that number, an embarrassing turnout for a Friday-night show in a city of Fort Worth’s size.
It was not always this way.
For the past decade, the Ridglea Theater, owned by the R.K. Maulsby Family Trust since 1976 and leased by husband/wife team Richard Van Zandt and Wesley Hathaway since 1998, has undergone profound change. Artists like Willie Nelson, Stereolab and, as recently as 2005, Death Cab for Cutie once populated a bustling concert calendar, often drawing sellout crowds.
Now, the stage frequently hosts little-known local hard-rock and metal bands, with a smattering of touring acts, country groups and local-boys-done-good like Bowling for Soup and Toadies.
What happened?
Plenty. The economy, which has body-slammed hole-in-the-wall clubs and gigantic arenas alike, made an already tight financial situation for the club even more unforgiving. Add the arrival of corporate competitors to the east, the tenants’ lack of resources, an ownership situation that could charitably have been called turbulent and persistent rumors of the theater’s imminent demise, and you begin to understand that the Ridglea’s rapid slide from relevance is no ordinary rough patch.
No surprise then that the Maulsby Family Trust filed for Chapter 11 protection in July and, with the clock ticking, was facing the possibility of foreclosure.
Then on Thursday, six days before the bankruptcy court’s deadline, Dallas-based investment company FixFunding LLC bought the Ridglea Theater for $1.85 million. The property was acquired via a deed in lieu of foreclosure, which, according to an Oct. 29 Star-Telegram article, is "a less-costly process that allows a borrower to return the property to the lender. The borrower is released from the defaulted loan and avoids the public stigma of a foreclosure, while the lender avoids extra time and cost involved in repossession."
It’s not yet known what FixFunding LLC, which could not be reached for comment, intends to do with the property, although sources say that representatives from the investment company have recently toured the building.
Regardless of what turn this saga takes next, the Ridglea sits at a heartbreaking crossroads.
"[The] Ridglea has a lot of character and importance in Fort Worth’s musical culture but has lost the majority of its importance as shows have moved to smaller, more intimate venues," says the Burning Hotels’ Chance Morgan. "In the past, I enjoyed going to the Ridglea, but no one goes there . . . unless it’s to see metal shows. It’s a venue of the past."
That’s an especially brutal assessment coming from the likes of the Burning Hotels, rising stars who might once have considered a Ridglea gig a major achievement. But Morgan is not alone. A number of musicians and local-music promoters I spoke to about the Ridglea echoed these sentiments. No one wants the Ridglea shuttered, but some suggested that Hathaway and Van Zandt — who have two years remaining on their lease — should hand off the Ridglea to an entity that can better manage the space. Others pointed to the rise of venues like the Palladium Ballroom or the House of Blues, which can afford to take losses on shows without fear of missing rent payments.
"I’ve always hoped that it would one day put Fort Worth on the map for national touring groups — so much character compared to the antiseptic Nokia or the bland Palladium," says Chris Plavidal of Stumptone.
It’s a no-win situation: Fort Worth loses out on terrific bookings that go to other cities, and a historic venue struggles to keep its doors open by filling its calendar with less-than-inspiring offerings.
But Hathaway and Van Zandt aren’t exactly rolling over in the face of all these challenges.
"One of the things that keeps us coming back [is] we have become a home for so many wonderful people in bands," Hathaway says. "[There’s also] the wonderful audiences who are so loyal to the Ridglea. That is part of what keeps me going down there."
And yet, as sincere and even admirable as these sentiments are, it’s hard not to wonder: Is sentiment enough to restore the Ridglea to prominence?
Glory days
The Ridglea Theater opened on Fort Worth’s west side, on Camp Bowie Boulevard, in December 1950. First owned by the Interstate theater chain, the space went through several configurations (a first-run movie theater, a "movie grill" where patrons could order food) and numerous owners before tenants Van Zandt and Hathaway spent more than $100,000 in 1998 to mount laser-light shows and host the occasional rave.
A year later, spurred by Fort Worth Weekly’s annual music-awards ceremony, Van Zandt and Hathaway enlisted Melissa Kirkendall to begin booking concerts at the Ridglea. For the next four years, Kirkendall, along with Robin Phillips (now with AEG Live) and others, brought everyone from Bo Diddley to Fugazi to the Ridglea stage. It was a glorious time for Fort Worth concertgoers; no longer forced to make the drive to Dallas or Denton, Cowtown residents could enjoy hip indie bands and legendary performers in the comfort of the 817. Kirkendall believes that Hathaway and Van Zandt succeeded by understanding their own limitations.
"They knew they didn’t have the connections to do it on their own," Kirkendall says, "so they were smart enough to surround themselves with people like me that did know."
Except the glorious run didn’t last very long. Dallas’ Granada Theater began booking shows regularly in 2002, steadily stealing away acts that might have played the Ridglea. Kirkendall moved on to become a filmmaker and briefly book other Fort Worth venues, like the now-closed Wreck Room, leaving Hathaway and Van Zandt to press on. In 2005, Lance Yocom’s Spune Productions hosted the inaugural Wall of Sound festival at the Ridglea, perhaps one of the last times there was a concentration of buzzworthy local bands appearing at the venue.
Yocom hasn’t booked much at the Ridglea since then, but he, like so many others, feels that the theater’s potential has yet to be fully tapped.
"With some money and a little love, it’s possible all those assets could be successfully utilized and have the potential to be a competitor among the other midsized concert halls in D-FW," Yocom says.
Heavy on the metal
Van Zandt laughs ruefully as he tells of first-time visitors being amazed at the Ridglea’s existence. "Even though we’ve been there for 11 1/2 years, we’re still one of the best-kept secrets in Fort Worth. There’s so many times people come in and go, 'Wow, this is the first time I’ve been here.’ "
One of the reasons the Ridglea’s profile is so low, though, is because of the bands that have been booked there.
"We’ve focused on metal — that’s what keeps us open," Van Zandt says.
It’s an unfortunate Catch-22: These shows may keep the place afloat, but they don’t endear a venue to a broad audience. By their nature, metal and hard-rock circles are practically hermetically sealed — very close-knit and supportive, but not exactly easy to dip into on a whim.
And while Kirkendall makes the valid point that Fort Worth and the surrounding region have a history of supporting heavy music (see: Pantera), comparable venues like the House of Blues and the Palladium Ballroom book a variety of artists, which can drive up attendance and also attract the curious.
"We do a big variety, [but] we do have a reputation for doing a lot of metal, and that happened because after 9-11, those were the only bands that people would still come out for," Hathaway says.
There’s one other factor preventing the Ridglea from raising its profile: the seemingly constant threat of closure. When concertgoers constantly have to ask themselves "Is that place still open?" before heading out on a Friday night, pretty soon they’ll stop wondering altogether.
Hathaway and Van Zandt stress that closure is not on the horizon. "[The Ridglea] pays its bills," Hathaway insists. But they do admit that the venue’s large overhead, along with the laundry list of fixes (largely cosmetic) they would like addressed, make it impossible for them to employ a booking agent.
And, as the vicious cycle continues, not having a booking agent makes it impossible to get new acts that might draw new crowds.
Rocking on, for now
Sadly, it appears that the status quo will continue, although some kind of transition will happen.
Neither one of the Ridglea’s caretakers wants to see it disappear, and it’s unknown whether the new owners will make a move to tear down the historic theater.
"What I wish would happen — this is totally idealistic and I know it can’t happen — but I wish all the local bands would get together and buy the place and keep it forever, because it’s a wonderful place for music," Hathaway says. "It’s just fabulous, and it’s a beautiful building."
They’ve begun working with Fort Worth-based promoter Rock City Concerts to bring some shows to the Ridglea.
But more needs to be done.
A city’s music scene lives and dies by the strength of the indie bands; if those acts have nowhere to perform, you can kiss visions of being like Austin; Portland, Ore; or Omaha, Neb., goodbye.
"Competition makes us as club owners or promoters do a better job, [and] the public and the bands benefit from it," Kirkendall says.
"I’d like to see more Fort Worth bands opening for these traveling bands," says Chad Sones, bassist for the Cut*off. "[The] Granada has done this for us, the Burning Hotels, Black Tie Dynasty and several others. This would expose these local acts to new, larger crowds and help to promote the local scene. Down the road, it would help to get some repeat customers when these same local bands play Ridglea."
That would be a start, which is all the Ridglea can do. Try something and see if it works, because no venue can bear too many more nights like that recent Friday.
For now, though, what Hathaway and Van Zandt might need most is a jolt of self-confidence: a belief that their club is something bigger, better and more important to the Fort Worth entertainment scene than they’re allowing it be.
Says Hathaway: "It’s a shame we didn’t know more about business and could’ve maybe found a partner who had more business sense than we do — and money. How we’ve ever stayed open all this time — it’s astonishing. It really is."
Material from Star-Telegram archives is included in this report.
Preston Jones is the Star-Telegram pop music critic, 817-390-7713
DFW.com is pleased to be able to offer its users the opportunity to make comments and hold conversations online. However, the interactive nature of the internet makes it impractical for our staff to monitor each and every posting.
Since DFW.com does not control user submitted statements, we cannot promise that readers will not occasionally find offensive or inaccurate comments posted on our website. In addition, we remind anyone interested in making an online comment that responsibility for statements posted lies with the person submitting the comment, not DFW.com.
If you find a comment offensive, clicking the exclamation icon will flag the comment for review by the administrators; we are counting on the good judgment of all our readers to help us.
