We took a sneak peek inside Ministry of Awe. It’s extremely chaotic, in a good way.
What happens when you put Pig Iron Theater actors in the former Manufacturers National Bank building whose six floors are covered in art and pulsating lights? We can't wait to find out.
What does a bunch of actors do inside a 8,500-square-foot structure built in 1870?
On a recent afternoon, The Inquirer encountered Pig Iron Theater performers filling up the top floor of the former Manufacturers National Bank building in Old City.
They scaled its newly-illuminated walls, which are covered in landscape paintings, pulsating lights, and colors that change hue by the turn of an electric dial.
Some sat atop the room’s angular pews, their eyes transfixed on the atmospheric murals around them, staring at images of dog-headed birds, goat-headed men, and other extraordinary creatures.
The band of actors and performance artists were rehearsing for Saturday’s opening of the Ministry of Awe, an immersive, six-story attraction created by renowned muralist Meg Saligman.
Rehearsing for venue’s opening, the performers roamed around the space, nicknamed the Heavens. Armed with a loosely written script, they put their acting and improvisational skills to work.
In the Heavens, these performers are the high priests and priestesses. Dozens welcome visitors, or “account holders” as they are called, who enter through the Ministry’s doors, with an equal sense of curiosity and wonder.
Back in November, Saligman said the building found her and she discovered the Ministry of Awe was already inside. In the lore she has created, the Ministry is “an entity that’s been around since the beginning of time.”
South Philly artist Rose Luardo, who plays a high priestess in the Heavens, said adopting the lore of this immersive space is “pure joy,” and she’s excited for visitors to spend a day walking through the six floors.
“[It feels like] when you’re standing on the edge of something and you don’t know what’s over the edge. I’m going into that water, and I don’t know what’s in that water or how deep it is,” she said.
Saligman sold two of her garage studios in South Philly to purchase the 19th-century bank in 2022 for $1.65 million, with support from the city, the state, and the federal government. In the last year, she and her business partner Lizzie Kripke have transformed the bank space into a place of curiosity and wonderment.
The Ministry of Awe promises to be an ever-evolving space, filled with works from more than 100 Philadelphia artists, that range from large-scale murals to sculptures, digitized objects, soundscapes, and more.
Last week, Saligman and Kripke were still placing the final touches on the 8,500-square-foot venue. Large-scale sculptures and fixtures were being installed as the paint on several murals were drying. Some areas were cordoned off as works in progress.
It’s all in the process, this reporter was told, of becoming the wildly ambitious and enthralling project Saligman and Kripke envisioned when they conceived the idea four years ago.
Upon entry, guests are welcomed by a bank teller, who “smells” them and directs them through a path of discovery. (Readers, this reporter was assured that sentence would make sense after Saturday.)
The “account holders” then have free rein to explore the various tunnels, murals, labyrinths, soundscapes, and large-scale installations. There’s no map through the Ministry, which means there’s no wrong or right way to explore its terrain. As guests venture along the various staircases and entry points, they are welcomed with new and evolving surprises. Drawers laden with clues to unknown adventures wait to be opened.
The historic architecture of the building — designed by famed Victorian architect Frank Furness — also becomes part of the story. And somehow, the artworks filling the building are also woven into tales of financial sustenance, reincarnation, capitalism, and the value of humanity.
Kripke said it’s a concept she believes will resonate with visitors, one that will be elevated with Pig Iron Theater performers serving as extensions of the story.
“They come from a school of dramaturgy that has a relationship and a commitment to the audience, which drives the improvisation that feels like a beautiful fit for us as a work that is about discovery,” she said. “It’s such a deep improvisation beyond the typical improv show that people are familiar with. It’s pure artwork.”
Pig Iron Theater actors will station themselves at specific areas to entertain and help guide visitors through the maze of interactive technology and performance arts.
Unlike attendants in museums and galleries, they will encourage guests to get closer and immerse themselves in the artwork and installations.
“You can come and experience certain parts for five minutes, or you can experience it for 60. But it’s always open to you,” Taj Rauch, an immersive artist whose work is displayed in the Ministry, said.
In time, Kripke said, each of the venue’s floors will undergo alterations or creative shifts, making for an ever-evolving space of attractions and creative works for new and returning guests to enjoy.
“This is a generative work that will, we hope, live for years. [But] when you come and see it in March, it should be very different from if you come to see it in November,” Kripke said.
Eva Steinmetz and Dan Rothenberg, co-artistic directors of Pig Iron Theater, said the direction they give to their performers will also be tweaked based on visitor reactions.
“What people see at the opening and what they see in a month will be different,” said Rothenberg. “We need to learn what people bring to the stage, and what this space makes audiences do.”
Steinmetz is open to toning down performances, or amplifying them, if needed.
“If performers are too interesting, and people are staying and watching them for 30 minutes, that might be a bad thing,” Steinmetz said. “We may [have to] encourage people to keep looking at visual art.”
While the “open-world” performance structure presents its challenges, for performer Joshua Kachnycz, it’s like a role-playing video game. The walls of engagement are completely broken down and he’s excited to engage with visitors in this boundary-less medium.
When the Ministry of Awe officially opens, Kripke is hopeful audiences leave with a renewed sense of discovery and humanity from this chaotic and immersive experience.
Kachnycz, on the other hand, wants visitors to simply come out “thinking and feeling.”
“I don’t want to impose a particular meditation on them,” he said. “This is a meditation on the value of the human experience.”
Ministry of Awe opens March 14. Tickets are $29.99 at moaphilly.org.