By Tom Sime

Published 05-29-1998

ARTS OUT THERE

Russell Hobbs is still dead, but he's back.

Eleven years ago, the pioneering Deep Ellum night spot impresario declared his abdication as scene leader with a garage sale titled "Russell Hobbs Is Dead." It was a goodbye to his old days and, more importantly, his old ways as a boozing, drugging, groupie-happy kingpin of hip.

"That Russell Hobbs is dead - hopefully," confirms the former club guru, now40 and still committed to the Christian beliefs he took up in 1987, to the shock and dismay of friends and colleagues.

His return answers two questions: What ever happened to Russell David Hobbs, and what ever happened to 3202 Elm St.? It's the performing space that Deep Ellum Opera Theatre called home until losing its lease a few months ago. Mr. Hobbs has leased the place and renamed it The Door, "an all-ages art venue. .

. . It's not a bar. It's not a church."

He's done both of those already. Mr. Hobbs' Deep Ellum career began in 1984 with a similarly rough-hewn black room on Elm Street called the Theatre Gallery, and peaked with his presciently named Prophet Bar on Commerce, which became a launching pad for such Dallas rock acts as Reverend Horton Heat and Edie Brickell and New Bohemians.

Then Mr. Hobbs threw the scene on its ear by abruptly converting to evangelical Christianity and renouncing - gradually - his evil ways. The Prophet stopped serving liquor and began featuring more religious acts; the kids stopped coming. He reinvented Prophet as a restaurant with a "prayer wall" and a menu featuring such items as a "Deuteronomy Fish Platter." Despite $170,000 in remodeling, however, the eatery didn't take, either. Most of Mr. Hobbs' old associates felt betrayed, and he eventually withdrew from the scene he'd helped create. He built a retreat in East Texas and did the hermit thing for three years, "living in the woods" on money he inherited after his father's death. "I finally became content with watching the trees blow, and just talking to the old neighbor down the street. It was really cool."

But it couldn't sustain him forever. He considered opening a North Dallas restaurant, but found himself looking around in his old stomping ground. "I really believe that Deep Ellum has a major destiny," he says. "It just seems like God keeps drawing me back here."

The 3202 Elm building appealed to him because "it's a little off the beaten path" - the same reason it often failed to draw audiences for the many theater companies who have worked there, including not only DEOT, but New Theatre Company, Undermain Theatre, Actors Stock Company and Gryphon Players. One problem has always been parking; Mr. Hobbs hopes he's solved that one by arranging for his customers to park on the rooftop lot of a neighboring business.

There's still no liquor on the menu of coffees, snacks, juices and soft drinks, though free beer was handed out at the opening on May 15. ("We don't think drinking is wrong. Jesus turned the water into wine.") Along with a liquor-free menu, The Door features primarily live music and visual art, but Mr. Hobbs plans on bringing in theater, too. "I'm into showcasing inspired artists," he says. "What makes me tick is artists that are totally convicted and inspired in what they do."

But there's a catch. Any artist appearing at The Door must pass spiritual muster. "You can do your art here if your conviction or your inspiration is about God, something that would be scoffed at in other circles," says Mr. Hobbs. "We have a lot of Christian acts here . . . but we also have bands booked that aren't necessarily Christians. . . . I don't want this place to be labeled as just a Christian place, because it's not."

Some confirmation for that seems to come from The Door's first theater offering: Little Blue-Eyed Girl - a play about Bonnie Parker of Bonnie and Clyde - opens June 16. It's a one-woman show written and performed by Dixie Lee Sedgwick of Dallas, who says it's "not a Christian play at all." Little Blue-Eyed Girl will play Tuesday and Wednesday nights June 16-24, with live bands holding onto the more lucrative weekend nights. Thursdays feature "Songwriters in the Round," with musicians playing and critiquing each other's new material. "I don't think underground theater is popular enough to solely be what a space does," says Mr. Hobbs. "This place couldn't survive on just theater."

Can it survive on just Christian and Christian-approved art? "There's so many different kinds of religions, and Christians," he says. "We don't want to be lumped in with the Christians that stand in front of abortion clinics and scream at people. . .. I just want to do something to showcase artists. . . . I want this to be a place where people interact, where they can really experiment and be what they want to be artistically. . . . There's not a bartender/booker saying, "We can't have you on anymore, 'cause you don't sell enough beer.' "

Call The Door at (214) 742-3667 for more information.