The Cave of Underground Sounds

The door is unassuming.  Muted and industrial, it stands quietly in the face of a stone wall.  A mixture of gravel and weeds rises in a subtle slope around its shoulders before shooting to a hilltop; a tangle of foliage crowns its stone brow.  We walk in the road, our backs turned against the oncoming headlights.  Whatever sidewalk was anticipated ended some yards back at the concrete foot of a hillside staircase.  This is not a place where one would expect to find the haunting hollow of Louisville’s most peculiar concert venue.  But the humble façade is deceptive; the illusion of disuse plays a masterful trick as I step into the glow of the elusive Workhouse Ballroom.

In an era when the internet is pocket-sized, the web is surprisingly silent on the subject of this mysterious, door-in-a-hill music hall.  Of all the friends, acquaintances and mostly-strangers I interrogated, only one had a vague spark of recognition: “Oh, you mean The Cave!  Yeah…” It is curious that The Workhouse Ballroom has managed to elude the sticky fingers of Facebook.  The murky history of this unusual setting is only further muddied by its legend in local lore; word-of-mouth folk tales spin their yarns and accounts vary neighbor to neighbor.  Reaching out through modern channels of investigation is an empty quest.  This is a place which must come to you.

Visiting the home of owners Mike and Annie Ratterman is rather like exploring an artists’ compound.  A bust of the illustrious DuPont patriarch sports a gold blush and stylish spectacles, adding panache to the gate.  Lines of arranged rock flourish around the beds of trees and flowers.  Their house is dotted with playful surprises, such as a refrigerator coated in chalkboard paint.  The home is comfortable, reflecting the creative personalities of its occupants without sacrificing its character.  And it would just so happen that this inviting residence holds the keys to an underground secret.

“We never really named it officially…” Mike leads casually, as we settle into their kitchen.  Like much of what I learn, the name “Workhouse Ballroom” came naturally into being.  The cozy shotgun is still filled with ample light from the waning sun; the view of Louisville’s skyline is a picturesque postcard in their abundant backyard.  The backyard is the key.  When the Rattermans first settled into their home in 2005, they had next-door neighbors.  A duplex shotgun once covered the now generous grounds, owned by a friendly, if not somewhat eccentric, family of characters.  After possessing the home and its adjoining, mysterious hillside bunker for generations – since the 30s or 40s – ownership passed to the Rattermans when their neighbors moved.  Mike and Annie purchased the duplex one side at a time and originally planned to use the space as art studios; such aspirations were dashed when a combination of structural damage and city penalties dictated its demolition.  The house was razed, and an innocent covering of grass now protects the mystery nestled beneath the feet of their hilltop home.  As new stewards of “The Cave”, the Rattermans would find a similar scene of dirt and detritus behind the bunker door from years of disuse.
The Workhouse Ballroom began its journey carpeted in a field of junk and several feet of mud, the stone floor invisible under the collection of debris.  The process of removal would take the Rattermans three years of dedicated cleaning before the stone visage was fully revealed.  But Mike and Annie realized they had something special long before the initial cleanse was completed.  Local band the Sandpaper Dolls recorded part of an upcoming album in the Ballroom, surrounded by bits and bobs of garbage.  Trickling ground water seeping through cracks added a subtle ambiance to the experience and to the music.  But the Rattermans name their friend Joe Manning as the catalyst in the Ballroom’s evolution from storage to music; Annie adamantly bestows credit: “The first time music played in that place – Joe Manning”.  It was during one of those nights when libation and late hours loosen the spirit that found the Rattermans and a group of friends experiencing the Ballroom’s musical potential for the first time.  “It was Joe Manning who decided we all needed to sing ‘My Old Kentucky Home’,” Annie states enthusiastically.  The rest, as they say, is history.

But what about history?  The Rattermans have planned for the Ballroom’s future; working with an attorney, they treat the legalities of The Workhouse Ballroom very seriously. “We want to take the right way and do it legitimately,” says Mike, “We want to make sure everything is straight.”  Working the straight and narrow path, apart from being the right way to run business, offers them a better chance of receiving historical grant money.  Restorations to the Ballroom, such as rebuilding the front wall, replacing diminishing grout lines, and reconstructing the chimneys will all be a little easier with some spare change.  The Rattermans have a promising horizon designed for their treasure, but its past is still cloudy.  “We have some old articles that relate it back to beer storage – from the 1850s,” Mike reports, but the definitive truth is really anyone’s best guess – or best story.  Marauding myths claim the space as a former debtor’s prison called the Louisville Workhouse, its bars, shackles and perimeter gate all sold for scrap metal in the 1960s.  But no one can be sure.  The Rattermans can’t even be fully certain of the Ballroom’s age.  Historical masons have been to investigate, but their estimates of 150-years-old are not exact.  The muddled chronicle of the Ballroom’s past only adds to the romanticism of its atmosphere.

Charm is a tangible presence with that first step clear of the threshold.  A cavern lies beyond the door, its equals usually haunting the bellies of medieval fortresses.  The blonde, electric flush of lights accentuates the grand arch of the stone ceiling.  Its earthen, almost animal scent a subtle musk in the air.  “It’s a space that deserves respect.” Annie Ratterman feels protective of the Ballroom’s secrecy among Louisvillians; the Rattermans do wish to share their extraordinary venue – maybe around 5 or 6 shows per year – but it’s a place that needs to be personally experienced instead of replicated on every billboard. Standing in the heady ambiance of its intimate corridor, I can understand why.

–Erin Day

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