The dream that crashed
David Spaner
Province
It was supposed to be a museum for the ages.
Besides chronicling B.C. history, Storyeum would become a Vancouver landmark — a major tourist destination and the key to Gastown’s revitalization.
Instead, Storyeum was fated for the dustbin of history, its door closed after a scant two years, owing more than $5 million to the taxpayers of Vancouver.
How did Storyeum honcho Danny Guillaume’s big dream turn so sour so quickly?
The plan was to mix the corporate world with the art world to create the first link in an international chain of museums focused on local histories. The Gastown museum was the template, bringing B.C.’s history to life with live performances, multimedia, high-end effects — all in close proximity to the city’s major hotels.
These days, Storyeum’s Barkerville Street looks like a ghost town inside a ghost, the museum itself as ghostly as the one in the Ben Stiller movie Night at the Museum.
But the activity was frenetic at this massive former parkade at 160 Water St. in the months leading up to Storyeum’s opening in June 2004.
Filmmaker Tony Pantages recalls finishing his 10-minute Storyeum film while theatre actors rehearsed their show and construction continued relentlessly. There was so much excitement about the project that employees such as Guillaume’s executive assistant, Riki Lewald, were eager to invest.
For Lewald, and many others, it was difficult not to believe in Guillaume. He was a man on a mission and the cast of contributors he assembled was impressive. Beside Pantages, Storyeum’s designer was esteemed architect Al Waisman. Its First Nations consultant was native leader Leonard George. Its theatrical production was created by the acclaimed Electric Company.
Spread over 104,000 square feet, it included elaborate underground sets where actors depicted B.C. history, from Barkerville to rain forests to a Native Indian longhouse.
But as opening day approached, it was becoming clear to many that something was amiss. Too much seemed to be too last-minute. Pantages was hired in March to have an ambitious film project ready for the June opening. The Electric Company was hired in late fall 2003 to research, write and produce a sprawling, complicated theatre production for the following spring.
“That’s not enough time to create that show,” says the Electric Company’s producing manager, Cindy Reid. “I don’t know that they understood that.”
For others, including Waisman and his assistant Leonie Harvey, the lack of promotional money and differences within management had them doubting it would work — “long before it opened,” says Harvey.
Says Guillaume: “We were eating more money than budgeted because of a tight timeline — construction costs were going crazy.”
Guillaume had been vocal about his goal of 5,000 visitors a day.
“When we learned this was the vision, it seemed impossible,” says Reid. “To promise that from the get-go, it just seems like too much.”
As Storyeum’s marketing head, Graeme Drew was worried that construction delays had caused Storyeum to miss its planned March opening, which would have left time to attract schools. “We missed the window, plus we had a half-assed experience. It didn’t have the wow factor,” he says.
When the crowds didn’t show, says Guillaume: “We knew we had to improve the product. In hindsight, you could say maybe we should have left the product and spent the money on marketing.”
Many Gastown shopkeepers had figured this would be the project to trigger the bonanza that had been hoped for since developers turned to the historic district in the 1960s.
“When the hype started, I bought into it and thought it would help business,” says Sheena McLaren, proprietor of House of McLaren, a kilt specialty shop across from the street from Storyeum. “They just didn’t get the crowds they thought they’d get. That was the word around the neighbourhood.”
Tim Strang, marketing manager at Hill’s Native Art store, says: “The first show I saw really needed tweaking, but when I saw it later, I liked it. It’s an attraction we don’t have the like of in Gastown.” He blames the city, saying that it was the only creditor not prepared to give Storyeum more time.
Finally, last year, with Storyeum owing the city more than $5 million for building improvements and back rent, the city took action. Some were angered by the decision, including Ed Henderson, who composed the music at Storyeum. “It could have been an important icon to recognize Vancouver, not unlike the Tussaud in London,” he says. “You need support from the city. What does the VSO pay to use the Orpheum?”
Elizabeth Ball, city councillor responsible for cultural affairs, says: “The VSO is a nonprofit organization. No one is personally profiting. I don’t think it’s the city’s responsibility to keep a private operator alive that long. You don’t expect the taxpayers to underwrite that.”
Ball says the city was “extraordinarily supportive of Storyeum.” It provided Guillaume with a rental rate of some $3 a square foot per year, while the going rate in the area was $15-$20.
“Unfortunately, the owners, who were commercial, not nonprofit, were unable to meet their rent obligations — over and over and over,” says Ball. “The marketing simply wasn’t there to meet the guarantees that were made. Lots of promises were made but unfortunately were not met. I think the city gave them as long as they responsibly could. It’s sad the plan wasn’t thought through totally.”
While Guillaume disagreed with the city’s decision, he adds: “I don’t think they were unfair.”
Waisman, who was also an investor, is hard-pressed to blame the city. “I’d like to say that, but I’m not sure that it’s accurate,” he says. “There was a lack of money as well.”
Adds his assistant, Harvey: “There was nothing to attract a family to spend time there.” Waisman says original plans included a restaurant but the two people “fighting for the restaurant” dropped away after a glimpse at the small crowds.
The story of Storyeum raises the questions of what kind of city Vancouver is and who the tourists are who visit. Unlike New York or Paris, it may be that Vancouver doesn’t attract the sort of tourists who put museums high on their list of activities. After a morning of outdoorsy activities such as Stanley Park or a suspension bridge, do many visitors want to spend a summer afternoon inside and underground?
Danny Guillaume grew up the youngest of eight children on a Saskatchewan farm. On a visit to Vancouver, he fell for the city, and stayed to open West Coast Video on Main Street, which he sold to Blockbuster, utilizing the profits to open a pet store. For Guillaume, a small pet shop wasn’t enough. He wanted the big box of pet shops, and the result was Petcetera.
Similarly, Storyeum would be the big-box museum, the first in a chain — think Moscow Storyeum, Seattle Storyeum — a kind of museum equivalent of Starbucks.
Storyeum had its roots just 20 miles from where Guillaume grew up. Started up in 2000, The Tunnels of Moose Jaw was an instant success. (He’s still a partner in the Tunnels. Says co-owner Jeff Gajczyk. “We’re doing great here.”)
In Vancouver, Guillaume put together a management team, worked out a sweetheart rental from the city, and promised to build a landmark. Some say Guillaume was a smooth talker who could sell anything, and in Vancouver he raised $23 million in private funding, quickly enlisting individual investors, the contributions ranging from small-time savings to more than $3 million.
“That was Danny. He’s a sales guy,” says Lewald. “You had to listen to him talk — you’d believe. He just had that charisma. He was really good at selling you on an idea.”
Not everyone bought in. Guillaume met with Premier Gordon Campbell who, politely, turned him down. He was rebuffed by the feds, too.
Drew, who came up with the name Storyeum as a play on Orpheum, had been close to Guillaume, the MC at his wedding.
“We got quite excited about being the Disney of history,” Drew says. But he had considerable concerns about how Storyeum was presented, noting scheduling problems and high ticket prices. “Frankly, Danny was the one who made the [pricing] decision and I think it was the wrong one. Danny made all the final decisions. In some areas, he was brilliant. Unfortunately, one of them was not consensus.”
Drew, who was fired in the fall of 2004, says Guillaume was deeply affected by the failure. “I think he was completely crushed. There was a complete collapse in self-confidence. He was numb.”
Leward says Guillaume would disappear for days on end. “He was not a big administrator. He was more of a visionary. And that may have been part of the problem. Was he the right guy to launch this thing? Probably not. Danny didn’t listen — didn’t listen to the finance guy, didn’t listen to the operations guy, didn’t listen to Waisman, who had created several flourishing businesses. Graham and Danny were really good friends. Their friendship fell apart. It was nasty.”
Adds Waisman: “In the end, Danny was the only one left. The board of directors had left.”
Guillaume acknowledges that he made the final decisions but disagrees there was debate over pricing. “I don’t recall a lot of bickering over anything operational,” he says.
Pantages says the Storyeum experience was often intense and frustrating, but he admires Guillaume. “Danny is a great believer. He has the child inside him, and I appreciate that in people.”
But in retrospect, says Reid: “They didn’t get it right. They tried to be connected to the community, but I don’t think they were successful. Maybe because it was business-centric and the business community is much different than the First Nation community or the artistic community.”
These days, a Request For Proposals regarding the property is open at city hall until Aug. 3. Once the proposals are in, staff will issue a report on its future. “There’s arts-related, tourism-related, social-related, all kinds of ideas,” says Ball.
Guillaume says Storyeum needed more time and money. “We had to keep investing in it.” As for his future, he’ll only say: “I’m looking at other opportunities.”
Meanwhile, Leonard George and others can only reflect on what might have been.
“Vancouverites are very funny,” he says.
“When something new comes along, everyone takes it for granted — ‘We’ll have to come down there and see it.’ But it went away and they never did come down and see it.”