Curtain goes up on $28m Harlem theater.

A ribbon cutting ceremony yesterday marked the completion of the 135th street Gatehouse--and Harlem community members wandering through the monumental structure hewn of rough granite with an aged belly sunken several stories below the surface were able to sense the true meaning of the word restoration.

The building which was originally a pumping station named for the iron gates that once lifted brought essential fresh water from the Croton River in Westchester to restore a parched 19th century Manhattan population, and laid abandoned for nearly 20 years, had been transformed into a performing arts center for Harlem Stage.

"My biggest hope is that through our art we will be able to restore the place where we gather our humanity and strength. If we aren't able to do that in our lives we just have a sense of depleted and defeated humanity that just wants to give up," said Patricia Cruz, director of Harlem Stage, formerly known as Aaron Davis Hall. "The gatehouse is the perfect place in which to do that. We took what was once a derelict building, a building that was cloaked in barbed wire and old mattresses and of course the ubiquitous shopping cart, where it was dark and dangerous, and we made it into place where there is a sense of light and beauty. Add to that all these artists that will come rushing through and deliver their work to the stage, and we have an extraordinary venue," Cruz said.

The building land marked in 1981 and taken out of service by the New York City Department of Environmental Protection in 1989 when the water system was rerouted lends itself to reverence. The original building was designed by engineer Fredrick S. Crook modeled in the imposing Romanesque Revival style with a bell tower sculpted around an interior nave and apse which bears similarities to churches in the Middle Ages--delivering with it a sense of the sacred to a civic building with no predetermined religious purpose. After entering the building, 19th century residents--who prior to the completion of the Croton Water system marked by the Gatehouse had been dying from water born diseases--were able to stand on a porous floor made of cast iron gratings and hear water rushing through the reservoir. Cast iron railings were built so residents could peer below and see the elaborate engineering network of valves, sluice gates, chambers and pumps, and the way that Roman Aqueduct modeled system used gravity to pull water down hill, and along the sloped wall below.

"Below ground was for function, above ground was for celebration," said Rolf Ohlhausen, partner at Ohlhausen DuBois Architects, the firm that designed the renovation project in collaboration with engineering firm Wank Adams Slavin Asssociates.

Ohlhausen was at the helm of the party planning and completing the $26 million restoration of the building, overseen by the New York City Department of Cultural affairs, and worked hard to carve a new space for celebration as he struggled to "balance the needs of preservation with the needs of theatre." He followed the exterior grain of the building, mirroring old bearing brownstone with new taut skin brownstone to an entrance relocated on Convent Avenue on the side of the building. Expansive modern glass doors wing out of the building, and appear to be supported by a 6-8 feet thick granite walls on either side, reinforcing the image of water and retaining walls theatrically. In the nighttime, floodlights built into the outdoor platform will bounce off steel on the ceiling of the entrance, and give the patron the feeling the space is opening up in a modern way, while still preserving the aged quality of the supporting walls.

After walking through another arched doorway, patrons will enter a modern lobby, then either take the elevator or climb up a carved granite circular staircase which bears the echoes of centuries past and projects the slightly haunted atmosphere of an Edgar Allen Poe story. The stairs lead to the main area of the theatre--a large open black box space that can be arranged creatively with retractable stages and bleachers.

Replicated ironwork and stained glass windows adorn the room. Double plated windows with blackout shades to add to the acoustics.

"That's a paradox," Ohlhausen said. "When this was built people wanted to hear rushing water. Now we are building a theatre where we strive to contain sound, improve the acoustics, and keep the excess noise out."

Initial phases of excavation work included extensive sandblasting of the old walls, and surprised planners with great finds including retaining walls. Ohlhausen there extended his project 30 feet underground, adding two floors of dressing rooms, green rooms, and conference spaces throughout the cavern where water once flowed.

That flavor of history is retained by everyone who enters the building.

"It wasn't that long ago, in the 1890's when this was built and people didn't have enough clean water," Cruz said. "That gives me a sense of history that is immediate, a sense of connecting with the fact that all this happened just a generation or two ago, and to understand what that means."

The civic structure supported people when it was created, helping them to connect with each other in a sacred way. It has helped to connect people today in a similar manner. Planning of the Gatehouse sparked community meetings which lead to the development of neighborhood projects including a large grassy playground where children from nearby Public School 161 can be found playing all day long and community soccer, baseball and track teams regularly practice.

The project helped transform various representatives, including the architect who whole-heartedly devoted themselves to various stages of planning the lighthouse.

"It was probably the most interesting and complicated project I ever tackled," Ohlhausen said,

Cruz hopes that the magic of the building will stretch to all the performances artists will bring to the stage that begin on October24, and remain in the community for years to come.

"A lot of buildings, and architecture, are lost to the people they are intended to serve," Cruz said. "When structures are built in a careful and loving and accommodating way, people react to them in a way that is reciprocal."