Mayor John Fernandez has said the Buskirk-Chumley is "more than just a theater." \nJudging from Saturday evening's Leo Kottke concert, he'd be right. With tickets going at $17 a pop, the virtuoso folk guitarist packed the house. \nA sea of heads -- some nestled on companion's shoulders -- focused on the unassuming figure on stage as he deftly navigated the dozen strings of his guitar. Decked out in faded jeans and a crisp blue dress shirt, the quirky solo act rambled between songs in his signature way. \nAll over the map, Kottke wended from reminiscing of how he used to crush June bugs on the neighbor's porch as a kid to non sequitur quotation of Isaac Bashevis Singer. He joked that the "only thing he has in common with Ludwig Von Beethoven" is a love for macaroni and cheese. He complained that the high E string always goes either sharp or flat, suggesting he "might as well go hang himself." \nKottke delighted the crowd, sparking laughter like a brush fire on an arid summer day. It seemed to feed on itself, flaring up even when only a select few first saw the humor in some off-beat remark. On the balcony or below, there wasn't a pair of wilting lips or hollow eyes to be seen. \nLike any show at the Buskirk, an intermission was held for ten minutes or so of the two-hour set, allowing patrons to stretch out a bit and chat about the evening's entertainment. \nSome perused the CDs and tour memorabilia on sale in the lobby. Others waited in lines snaking to the restrooms or headed straight to the concessions stand. A good many filtered outside beneath the lit awning to strike up cigarettes and conversations. A gaggle of genial words hung inside the lobby and just outside like the billows of smoke exhaled in the night air. \nLike any show at the Buskirk, there was a strong sense of community. \nA staple of a Bloomington weekend for many, the Buskirk has only been around for little more than a year. \nBut, burdened by deepening debt, its future is already looking bleak. \nStill known by many as the Indiana Theatre, 114 E. Kirkwood Ave. was originally home to the first movie house in Bloomington. In 1922, when cinema was still fledgling, Harry and Nora Vonderschmidt decided to open a theater on the downtown stretch. It was the first theater to bring "talkies" to town and is now in the National Register of Historic Places. \nTo promote its opening, the Vonderschmidts didn't buy up billboards or airtime. In a more pastoral age, they paraded a mule bearing a stenciled placard about town. Quaint advertising or not, people flocked to the theater to witness the novelty of the motion picture. By all accounts, the Indiana Theatre was a smashing success, featuring all of the early classics such as "Ben-Hur" and "Gone with the Wind." \nBut now those days seem as distant as nickel cups of coffee and shoe shines on the street. The Vonderschmidt family sold the theater to Kerasotes in 1975 after a half-century of private ownership. In a bid to increase commercial viability, Kerasotes altered the theater's interior, blocking off the original balcony to add an upstairs screen. \nYears later, it opened a pair of multiple-screen cinemas near the mall, and patronage of the downtown movie theater dwindled until it was closed in the mid-1990s. In 1995, Kerasotes donated the theatre to the Bloomington Area Arts Council on the condition that it not show films. So the BAAC decided to use the space as a performing arts center, embarking on costly renovation. \nThe original balcony had to be entirely restored, and the costs skyrocketed. A not-for-profit group, the BAAC relies entirely on donor support. \nWhen the dust from the renovation had cleared, the arts council was left holding a bill of about $3.5 million. \n"We had to bring it up to date," said Maureen Friel, president of the BAAC's board. "We had to take care of handicapped accessibility and other things." \nAt first the prospects of the theater seemed bright. Opening in April 1999, it regularly sold out, featuring such diverse acts as local folk artist Carrie Newcomer and national alt rock band The Flaming Lips. It wasn't solely a place for musical acts, though. It has lent a stage for plays like the contemporary comedy "Beau Jest." And it provided a venue for many of the ceremonies during the Dalai Lama's Kalachakra. \nThe theater has done wonders for the local music scene. Monica Herzig certainly thinks so. Herzig is a founding member of Jazz from Bloomington, a local jazz society that tries to spread the good word. Since its inception in 1999, the JfB has released a few CDs and booked national acts such as John Scofield and Danilo Perez. \n"We wouldn't even exist were it not for the Buskirk," she said. "None of it would be possible." \nWith the acclaimed IU School of Music in its midst, Bloomington has always been a great town for jazz. But Herzig said the Buskirk offers so much more than other local venues, such as Bear's Place and the Encore Cafe. \n"It has an actual concert atmosphere," she said. "You have real sound and a real professional feel. It's put us on the national touring map." \nPatronage has been consistently high at the Buskirk. And at first, money poured in. Many companies and well-off families made sizeable contributions, including a sum total of $600,000 from its namesakes, the Buskirks and Chumleys.\nBut donations -- large ones at any rate -- have since disappeared. The Buskirk now stands more than $800,000 in debt to the Monroe County Bank, where it has taken out a mortgage and a loan. The $400,000 mortgage went into effect in May, and the interest off the loan has been climbing steeply.\nWithout many shows or much student and faculty patronage, the summer proved especially harsh for the Buskirk. Payrolls had to be deferred and positions cut or made part-time. \n"Things are picking up," Friel said. "We've been able to meet payroll and make due with a reduced staff. It's just a matter of balancing income and expenses."\nMany took the Buskirk's financial woes as a call to action. Renowned violinist Corey Cervosek accompanied the Bloomington Symphony Orchestra for an early September benefit show. Cervosek graciously performed the works of Vivaldi, Paganinni and Rossini with rapturous gusto before a sold-out house.\nA week later, members of the Bloomington Music Works belted out Broadway tunes for a "Divas 2000" benefit concert. And BAAC members have hastened to renew their annual memberships earlier than usual. \nBut their efforts have only amounted to a scant trickle of income. \n"We very much appreciate the community support," Friel said. "But the big donations have just trailed off." \nFriel said the recent show of community concern didn't come as a surprise to her. \n"In this city, arts are very visible and highly supported," she said. "It's a big part of Bloomington." \nThe municipal government has even stepped in, taking up the Buskirk's cause. Fernandez appointed a commission to help develop a business plan that would "restore donor confidence." \nThe commission first met Friday, assessing what needs to be done. Chair Ted Najam, an Indiana Court of Appeals judge, said the commission would try to accomplish its goal in as prompt a fashion as possible.\nWhen all is said and done, the Buskirk simply needs a solid business plan.\n"We need to introduce fiduciary responsibility," Friel said. "That's the obstacle we face right now." \nAnd much rides on the Buskirk's fate. With the June closing of the Von Lee and the imminent departure of the Book Corner, many fear the downtown is losing its character. And if the Buskirk buckles under debt, it's likely that the BAAC would be forced to sell the John Waldron Arts Center. Located on South Walnut Avenue, the Waldron is a hub of theater and visual arts in Bloomington. It also offers seminars and classes to aspiring artists.\n"It's just my five cents," Herzig said. "But I hope people come out of the woodwork with financial help"
Buskirk on the brink
Historic theater facing increasing debt
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