War of the Worlds opera logo
I am freakishly obsessed
with the 1940s air raid sirens that still dot
L.A.’s urban landscape. Erected during WWII and active through most of the Cold War, they were a major part of my
childhood, when we had to practice ducking-and-covering under our school desks every time the sirens were tested (at 10AM the last Friday of the month).
Although decommissioned many decades ago, a majority of the sirens continue to quietly stand guard today. Most people don’t even notice them, but I think they’re marvelous: rusting artifacts of a time when America knew exactly who its enemies were.
No wonder, then, that I was thrilled to hear that three air raid sirens were being reactivated as part of a new public performance based on War of the Worlds, Orson Welles’ infamous radio play. Staged as an opera at Disney Hall, in downtown Los Angeles, the concert was interrupted by live radio interviews, detailing a Martian invasion around the city. The interviews were being remotely broadcasted from sirens located within one mile of Disney Hall. I immediately reserved tickets for one of the sites.
Although decommissioned many decades ago, a majority of the sirens continue to quietly stand guard today. Most people don’t even notice them, but I think they’re marvelous: rusting artifacts of a time when America knew exactly who its enemies were.
No wonder, then, that I was thrilled to hear that three air raid sirens were being reactivated as part of a new public performance based on War of the Worlds, Orson Welles’ infamous radio play. Staged as an opera at Disney Hall, in downtown Los Angeles, the concert was interrupted by live radio interviews, detailing a Martian invasion around the city. The interviews were being remotely broadcasted from sirens located within one mile of Disney Hall. I immediately reserved tickets for one of the sites.
Site 1: Olive and 1st
Site 2: Main St. between 3rd and 4th
Site 3: Hill St. between 7th and 8th
Anxious to see how the
sirens had been retrofitted for the performance, we scoped-out the three
remote sites last weekend. Sure enough, the sirens got a fresh coat of paint and new up-to-date
black speakers. We also got to see puppeteers rehearsing with one of
the Martian aliens—very exciting! This looked to be a fun event and indeed it
was.
Puppeteers rehearsing with mechanical Martian
Tim, Karen and I were
greeted by three soldiers when we arrived at our assigned site yesterday
afternoon. They told us to remain calm, even though they themselves were visibly
nervous about something. The “stage” was setup in an empty parking lot on Hill
St. About 200 white folding chairs faced the small platform as well as, of
course, the air raid siren, which ended up being the centerpiece of the
production.
Soldiers, General Lansing (one of the opera singers),
and air raid siren in the background
After a short while, we
heard an orchestra warming up through speakers placed behind us. The narrator, actress Sigourney Weaver, was introduced and the
opera began. The music was suitably eerie as we listened and waited.
Soldier taking aim at the menacing air raid siren (no!)
About five minutes into
the concert, Sigourney politely interrupted with news that “incandescent gas”
from Mars was hurtling toward L.A. at “an enormous velocity.” She advised that
there was nothing to worry about, but reminded the audience to take note of the
nearest exit in case we had to suddenly flee. Soon there were reports of
“cylindrical objects on poles in the sidewalk” doing strange things as our
siren started emitting high-pitched noises. Turns out L.A.’s innocent-looking
air raid sirens had been hiding dormant Martians for 70 years and now they were
coming to life! Sure enough, we were soon joined by a large mechanical creature,
crawling along the sidewalk and threatening our space.
Under attack!
Not only was it fun
hearing our siren “speak” again after all these years, but the actors’ dialog
was very L.A.-centric. Lines like “a loud, metallic bang was heard as far north
as Tarzana” and “enemy tripod machines over the Cahuenga Pass” had us howling
with laughter. In the end, music—and the controversial “titanium” skin
covering Disney Hall—saved the day. But we were warned that “our world [is]
being watched closely/With envious eyes/By a great intelligence.”
Disney Hall and its titanium skin
So. Much. Fun.
