Recently, at a show at Seattle's Moore Theater, the boyfriend and I were discussing whether the theater could actually be haunted, as it is often said to be. He thinks no. I think I'm not sure.
Here's what I've experienced. In 2004, I attended an Iron and Wine show with my good friend Mike. Our seats were general admission for the top balcony. We were running late, and by the time we arrived, Iron and Wine had just started their set. It was already dark in the theater, and the ushers were unwilling to help us find a seat in the mass of people. The rows at The Moore are steep, and the seats are packed in tightly. It's not the kind of place where you want to go wandering around in the dark. So, we decided to just stand along the wall at the front of the top balcony and watch the show from there.
The theater crescendos in a dome shape that is punctuated with several statues of women, almost Grecian looking. Midway through the show, one of the faces of the women began to look populated to me—that's the only way I can think to describe it. Then, after a few minutes, the face seemed less like that of a Grecian lady and more like a crusty sailor, with a beard and hardened features. It wasn't so much like the statue transformed as it gave off that impression. I elbowed Mike to ask him if he was seeing what I was seeing, without telling him what I was seeing, and he said, very deadpan, "Yes."
The "populated" statue just looked at us for the rest of the show. It wasn't frightening. In fact, I don't even remember having any particular emotion about it, except maybe curiosity. After the show, we compared notes, and it seemed like we had indeed had the same experience.
This could have been a shared hallucination based on the play of light, stress, you name it. We could have both imagined it. There are all sorts of ways to poke holes in our experience. And I'm not saying I stand behind it 100%. I'm just sharing what happened.