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I f \ i n never felt underdressed attending a
U 4- rock show in Athens, but I felt some
I L pangs of inadequacy as I stepped
through the College Avenue entrance of the
Rialto Club in the basement of the new Hotel
Indigo. My guest and I were grilled firmly upon
entering. Were we staying at the hotel? Why
were we there? Did we have tickets? Who were
we? We waited on the other side of a velvet
rope—the first I can recall seeing in Athens—
before being welcomed graciously inside by the
club director. Admission was understandably
tight as the grand opening was still a couple
weeks away and the club was just finding its
footing with a small show. Even so, the room
itself demanded respect, and there was a sub
tle air of exclusivity in every fiber of the club.
The Rialto Room is sort of a doughnut
shaped space where the stage itself is in the
center circle and the surrounding ring houses
a plush bar and lounge, with the two spaces
joined by two sets of double doors. The atmo
sphere in the lounge is one of warm sophis
tication, like the sitting room in some fine
estate. The tones are rich and earthy, with
reclaimed wood flooring, recessed lighting,
modern chandeliers and chic couches piled
high with pillows. If you take the elevator
down from the hotel lobby and enter from the
other side of the club, you'll be greeted by a
"wall of fame" featuring classic rock artists
like The Beatles, Rolling Stones, John Coltrane
and Bruce Springsteen. It's funny, you almost
half believe that these artists once played
here. The Rialto Room has no history and yet
it already feels important. Even if the artwork
is a bit Hard Rock Cafe, it seems to say "our
stage welcomes legends." Whether the lineup
booked so for actually reflects that caliber of
talent is debatable, but the new-hotel smell
that wafts through the air mingles with a
heavy sense of anticipation.
I ordered a beer at the elegant bar along
with a small group of rowdy, too-drunk-too-
early football fens who were eagerly pounding
shots—incongruous behavior in this setting.
Just then an announcer cut through their
shouts in order to welcome David Smits to the
stage. "Ooh la la," I thought, "he got a formal
introduction!" On my way to the door, I spoke
briefly with the club director about future
plans for the Rialto Room. She says she thinks
of the space as a getaway for visiting football
fans who don't want to spend their time in
Athens socializing under tents. She also men
tioned the Rialto Club membership program
in which subscribers will be allowed exclusive
entrance into the venue on game days, along
with other to-be-determined perks.
I was ready to enjoy the music, but we
were asked to wait until Smits finished his
song before entering. Apparently the previous
week's show was continually interrupted by
doors opening and closing, ao, with "respect
for the music," we waited patiently for yet
another velvet rope to be unhooked. As some
one who is used to seeing shows at the more
dive-y clubs in town, this procedure seemed
totally foreign, but once I was inside the
room it made perfect sense. Everything about
the Rialto Room directs your attention to
the performer. The space is intimate, and on
this night the room was set up with cocktail
tables topped with flickering tea lights (as
opposed to the more traditional theater-style
seats which are also available). Onstage, a
well dressed young man sang lounge-y origi
nals and covers as he tickled a commanding
grand piano backed by guitar and bass. Two
large screens on either side of the stage dis
played his name. The acoustics were clean
and all-encompassing. But most striking of all
was the utter silence coming from the audi
ence. It honestly felt rude to even whisper,
like we were watching a symphony or a play.
The crowd clapped politely in between songs
and, in truth, the sound of the door shutting
was distracting. "So, this is why they call it a
listening room," I thought. If you are inside
the Rialto Room your full attention is on
the artist at all times. I think a full drum kit
might be overwhelming in a space like this
unless brushes were used, but for an acoustic
performer, a jazz ensemble or a piano man like
Smits, the sound and feel are jjst right.
Most venues in Athens cater to one of two
crowds: the student population or the hipster
townies. The Rialto Room is dedicated to nei
ther, focusing instead on tourists with deep
pockets. I imagine these people to be like
the season ticket holders at Chastain Park in
Atlanta—the type of tailgaters that pack a
picnic with champagne flutes rather than Bud
Lights. I am not sure how big that market will
p ove to be in Athens, but I hope the Rialto
Room finds its niche, because this is too beau
tiful and too special a club to go to waste.
For more information including a list of
upcoming shows, please see www.therialto-
room.com.
Michelle Gilzenrat
20 FLAGPOLE.COM • SEPTEMBER 30,2009
KELLY RUBERTO