Burden of Dreams

 

How Dana Keith Brought Arthouse Film Culture to Washington Avenue

It began as a glimmer in the mind’s eye. In that movie playing in his head, Miami Beach Cinematheque (MBC) founder and director Dana Keith envisioned an intimate space in which South Beach’s increasingly sophisticated cinema lovers could come together to see the best and most provocative international and American independent titles without having to endure the impersonal multiplex experience. That dream of having this communal arthouse setting entered an exciting new phase on February 27 with the opening of the new MBC on the ground floor of the Historic City Hall on Washington Avenue and 11th Street.

It’s precisely in this location where Keith sat down with SunPost on a rainy Saturday afternoon to chronicle how he was able to secure this prime piece of real estate, and also to reaffirm his devotion to South Beach. “This is a very unique little neighborhood, and it deserves to have world-class culture,” says Keith, who cited the New World Symphony’s Frank Gehry Campus and the renovation of the Bass Museum of Art as recent landmarks in the development of the local arts scene. “What was missing was a world-class cinematheque,” he adds.

The new venue is an upgrade from the cozy Española Way location that was home to MBC from 2003 to 2010, one that architect and longtime supporter Scott Weinkle likens to “being invited into someone’s living room where the host introduced the film.” “Then afterwards,” Weinkle continues, “people actually discussed the film and often went to the café A La Folie [next door].”

Even though the new MBC has earned nothing but rave reviews from journalists and patrons alike, the journey to get there proved to be, in Keith’s words, “a long, long, convoluted, complicated process.” In cinematic terms, think of Brian Sweeney Fitzgerald, the Irish rubber baron portrayed by Klaus Kinski in Werner Herzog’s Fitzcarraldo. This grueling ordeal did, indeed, feel like attempting to pull a steamship up a steep hill in Peru, and it began with the realization that the Miami Beach Film Society, the nonprofit organization behind MBC, was outgrowing its original location.

“[The Española Way space] was charming, and it was perfect for that time and place, but it was [also] limiting in the accessibility, for new people to discover what we were doing,” he concedes. The rising rent in his building and a lack of parking for audience members who drove there from the mainland prompted Dana to start looking for a more suitable venue. “Imagine us, over on Española Way, [in] this Gothic revival, very cool little space, trying to determine where to move to, what could potentially be the next step.”  He didn’t have to search very far to find it, and in 2008 his attention was drawn to the City of Miami Beach’s seven million-dollar renovation of Historic City Hall.

“I had a particular appreciation for this building because I really, really appreciate Spanish/Mediterranean revival architecture, and when the scaffolding came off I saw the Parking Department [on the ground floor] sitting there,” Keith reveals. He took a look at the abandoned offices, which were in disarray. “The space itself was a mess. It was as if the administrative use was temporary. The walls in here came two feet from the windows,” Keith says. Even in its chaotic state, he realized that this space could fulfill MBC’s potential to give Miami’s arthouse crowd the kind of experience that he often had during his modeling days in Europe in the 1980s.

“A lot of times I was going [to the movies] by myself, between jobs, going to see [films like Andrei] Tarkovsky’s Stalker way across town, and I was one of five people [inside the theater], but those five people shared a deep, deep appreciation for what they’re seeing, like going to a museum and seeing a painting on the wall” he recalls. While he roamed the streets of Paris, on the other side of the Atlantic a video revolution was taking place. Film aficionados were choosing to stay home and appreciate classic cinema from the comfort of their own homes, a situation that Keith will never accept as an alternative to the theater experience, no matter how elaborate and sophisticated your home theater might be.

“The art of cinema, to me, should be shown on a screen where it controls you rather than you controlling it. [Watching films] on television, you’re in control. In the cinema you’re allowing the artist to take control. and that’s very important, because to me these are creations by an artist,” Keith says.

His involvement with the fashion industry, which included representing Versace Couture, led him to move to South Beach in the fall of 1992, right after Hurricane Andrew. During the two decades that followed, Keith witnessed the changes in the city’s artistic community. “That’s exactly the reason why it’s so important to retain and continue this desire to keep something like [MBC] going. There’s been a lot of movement from the [local] artists off the Beach, to the Design District first and Wynwood second,” he says.

Miami Beach’s commissioners, as well as Mayor Matti Herrera Bower, were all on board to make the new MBC a reality in Historic City Hall. “Everyone wanted this to happen, [but] the process itself involved two commission readings in order to get a space in a historic property, or any property that the city owns,” Keith informs. The commission readings took place several months apart, and thus Keith entered the initial phase in his journey: negotiations. “When you have the city as the landlord, you’ve got to make the rent viable and attractive for both sides,” he says.

Six months and several city commission hearings later, Keith was ready to move on to the next level in his quest: permitting. It was at this point that he began to assemble a creative team of local professionals that had never collaborated on a project before. The first name on his list: Scott Weinkle. “I had already designed the proscenium at the old Cinematheque and had designed other film-related spaces like the Jonas Mekas Visual Arts Center in Lithuania [and] The Stendhal Gallery and the New York Film Cooperative, so we both felt it was inevitable that I would be the architect for the new Cinematheque,” Weinkle writes via email.

Rhythm Foundation Board Chair and MBC patron James Quinlan suggested to Keith that he add interior designer Jeffrey Barone to the mix, and his background couldn’t be more different from Weinkle’s.  “Scott comes from a modernist approach, and Jeffrey, on the other hand, is a designer who integrates a lot of antiques and reclaimed objects in his projects,” Keith says. A fierce admirer of early 20th Century real estate titan Carl Fisher and original Historic City Hall designer Martin L. Hampton, Barone favors wood and various concrete textures. Thus, when he refers to his approach as “green,” he’s not referring to the color. “I have a love for, a need for, reuse, and just as importantly, negotiating what is going to our dumps,” Barone says.

With the union of these gifted craftsmen, Keith was sure he’d found the balance between classic and contemporary styles that he was looking for. “To me, the combination of Scott and Jeffrey was perfect. We didn’t want to duplicate this building exactly how it was in 1927 because, as a museum [-like venue] you need a modernist-type angle, so we created this space almost as if it were a sculpture in the middle of the historic shell of the building,” he says.

With a common goal as to what the finished product should look like, Keith began to break the news of MBC’s impending move to his Miami Beach Film Society members and regular MBC patrons. To achieve this purpose, Keith and his graphic designer came up with a video that gave viewers a virtual tour of the new MBC, one that he played at every screening prior to closing down the Española Way location in June of 2010. Keith also organized several fundraisers throughout the year, including a “Community 5% Day” at the South Beach Whole Foods in which five percent of that day’s net sales was donated to MBC.

In August, two months after leaving Española Way, Keith embarked on the third and most arduous part of his journey: construction. Weinkle remembers how each day would bring a new obstacle. “It seemed everywhere we turned – from digging into a 82-year-old concrete slab to working with existing air conditioning systems, fire standpipes and lightning grounding wires – we were looking at

an uphill battle,” he reveals. Keith winces at the mention of this period. “All of these construction issues seemed to be endless and, to me, they became quite painful. I laugh about it now, but at the time it wasn’t what I wanted to be doing.”

Keith remains diplomatic when discussing his collaborators’ differences of opinion. “In any project where you put two artists together there are going to be disagreements, and of course, there were,” he says. Case in point: the vaulted ceiling Barone wanted to build. “He was very strongly interested in bringing that aspect into the project, and Scott was pretty much against it, mainly because of the budget, and the complications [that would have involved] doing it, so we ended up with a simple, streamlined kind of ceiling,” Keith says. Barone uses a culinary metaphor to describe the creative process. “Dana put sugar and salt to the mix to get an unusual flavor, and with that comes two completely different ingredients which ultimately makes the cake,” he says.

It was Barone’s idea to make the new MBC an environmentally responsible space, and on this matter everyone was on the same page. “Our construction was a green process: recycled cement, the green way of disposing trash. That was more expensive and it took longer, [but] all of these elements were there because we wanted to do it right,” Keith says. Barone also suggested adding the type of black-and-white tile that Carl Fisher would have used. “I have been working with a real historical Cuban tile maker, who has had a shop in Miami for the past 50 years,” Barone reveals. “Not only do I use his local shop, which makes these hand-pressed tiles out of local materials. I take it one step further, and only use overrun products that have already been made for other clients who either order too much or changed their minds.”

During this period, Keith held several screenings at the ballroom of the Raleigh Hotel on Collins Avenue, which became MBC’s temporary home and was also the site where the Miami Beach Film Society first started screening movies before it found its first home on Española Way. Among the movies Keith screened were Alain Resnais’s Wild Grass and a digital restoration of Jean-Luc Godard’sBreathless. The original goal was to have the City Hall space open by October, just in time for Art Basel, but rising costs and labor delays forced Keith to miss that deadline. “These structural engineering [issues], these inspections, these back-and-forth reviews just went on literally for almost a year, and at one point, I was wondering, like Klaus Kinski [in Fitzcarraldo], ‘Is this going to happen or not?’”

Just when the future seemed uncertain for the completion of the new MBC, Keith’s determination received a boost from some of the city’s philanthropists.“Thank God we had a combination of individuals, foundations and corporate sponsors. That’s what really made this [endeavor] come together: passionate Founding Circle members with connections to foundations,” he says. Keith singles out Robert Crane and his wife Shirley Munoz as instrumental allies. “He’s very well connected to the New York foundation world,” Keith says. When Nespresso signed on as a corporate sponsor, Keith realized he’d  found the last piece of the puzzle. “It’s great to have someone on the corporate side who gets the project, who gets the complications and the struggle.”

That struggle officially came to an end on February 27, as MBC became, as it has for several years, the only venue in Miami selected by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences to host and be the beneficiary of Oscar Night America. The difference this year? The glamour offscreen threatened to match Hollywood’s red-carpet blitz. “In short, [the new MBC] is more glamorous, more glorious and now one can see the subtitles,” says Weinkle. “Also, all of Dana’s incredible archive of books, posters and film memorabilia is now fully on display, which heightens one’s appreciation of the art of filmmaking [while] still maintaining the cozy living room feel of the old Cinematheque,” he adds.

That night also marked the launch of MBC’s first art exhibit in the new venue’s gallery space, which is located on the side that faces Washington Avenue. The aptly themed Frank Worth: Hollywood Legends featured never-before-seen black-and-white photographs of Elizabeth Taylor and James Dean taken on the set of Giant. The exhibit was a collaboration with Miami’s Rudolf Budja Gallery, and it was the first in what Keith hopes will be an ongoing series of artistic showcases. Upcoming events in the horizon include opening an outdoor café and preparing to host the Black American and Brazilian Film Festivals this summer.

In the first two months at the new space, Keith has programmed films like Gaspar Noé’s controversial, sexually explicit Cannes Film Festival sensation Enter the Void, as well as tamer Oscar-nominated fare like Mike Leigh’s dramedy Another Year and the documentary Waste Land. This weekend he screens the Argentinian neo-noir Carancho, which enters its second week at the Coral Gables Art Cinema, and last year’s cerebral romance Certified Copy, which nabbed Juliette Binoche the Best Actress award at Cannes and is screening concurrently at the University of Miami’s Bill Cosford Cinema. Keith declares that premiere status is not an issue for him when it picking release dates on his calendar. “We’re are so far apart from each other, and that’s what’s so good about the new arthouse cinema placement. We all have our own territory, so to me it doesn’t matter if we open a film first or a couple of weeks later or at the same time, because our support group is here in Miami Beach,” he says.

MBC was actually the only theater in Miami that showed Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, the avant garde ghost story from Thailand that won the Palme d’Or at Cannes last year. Keith wasn’t sure how the experimental film would go over with his audience, but he needn’t have worried. “I think that if I’d shown that film four or five years ago, people would have been a bit puzzled, but I was very pleasantly surprised with the crowd each night it played. People were very patient, because that film is not easy, very slow for a Western audience. I was very happy to see that they were opening their minds to something different,” he says.

While he discovers a new generation of film buffs with whom to share his passion for the moving image, Keith is still trying to get used to being in a more exposed location. “I look out the windows all the time and see South Beach buzzing around, and I’m so happy to be right in the middle of everything but [also being] an escape from everything,” he says. This oasis for cinephiles has come a long way since it was conjured as a figment of Keith’s imagination. “The little Miami Beach Film Society accomplished what it set out to do. Here we are.”