I can’t imagine that another industry was impacted as deeply by the COVID-19 pandemic as the live performance industry was. Thousands upon thousands of performers, production specialists, venue owners and service workers who relied on live entertainment to support themselves suddenly found themselves out of work when complications from the pandemic prevented audiences and artists from gathering safely. As a long time musician, promoter and attendee of gigs, I was deeply affected; the void set in place by the absence of live music was at times unbearable.
But if this pandemic has shown me anything, it’s that art is resilient. Despite the challenges set in place, art finds a way. And it did. Through chaos and madness, I witnessed beauty. Online communities popped up on Facebook, giving artists a platform to livestream their performances and generate revenue. Fundraisers to save venues and struggling musicians popped up left and right. New and exciting forms of expression were born out of the limitations set in place by the pandemic, like Joshua Gelb’s Theatre in Quarantine, a YouTube series that sees the actor/director performing theatrical works within the confines of his closet. Even though we were all out of work, alone and struggling, it felt like there was a sense of unity within our local music scene.
And then after months of uncertainty, live music began to return to public venues as the weather got warmer. I was one of the first in my community of local musicians to begin performing again. A place called Claremont Distillery in Fairfield, NJ, had a wide-open outdoor space and warehouse that allowed for us to begin performing safely. Needless to say it was a success: folks came out in droves, starved of the energy and social interaction that a live performance offers, ready to feast on art.
After a few well received performances, some involving myself, I realized that there wasn’t much else going on around me. Some venues had closed and many independent promoters in our communities had ceased operations, opting for a different career path in a post-COVID world. Artists were eager to perform, audiences were eager to get out and so I thought it a good idea to begin running some local showcases on a more consistent basis. So at the beginning of the year I bought a PA system, put out an open call for artists, and just like that “Johnny Knollwood Presents,” a venture of mine that seeks to provide an outlet for local musicians to perform, was born.
At first, things went well, fans came out to support the artists, and artists delivered stellar performances weekend after weekend. But then, as restrictions were lifted and life became relatively normal again, the local music scene began to regress to a state potentially worse than the pre-pandemic days. Slowly, attendance numbers began to dwindle and there was less money in the tip bucket. Many bands were less gung-ho about promoting their gigs, showing up on time and putting on a good performance. Merch and bar sales also began to suffer. There are still great nights, they are just fewer and further between.
I fear that we in the local artistic community have taken the live performance industry for granted. There is an oversaturation of artists, but less people willing to support art. Seeing the recent disconnect within the local scene can at times be disheartening, but it makes the good nights all the more worthwhile. I believe this should serve as a reminder to artists and patrons of the arts that we must be here for each other, to uplift one another, sister, brother, and everyone in between. Go check out your friend’s act, stay for the rest of the bands, buy a CD or a t-shirt, schedule those weekly rehearsals, hand out flyers…take the extra step.
At the end of the day, you only get out of your local music scene what you put into it. If you say to yourself “next time,” keep in mind that as technology advances and attitudes surrounding live performances continue to shift, one day there may not be a “next time.” We can’t just say we care about our scene, we have to show it.
I play, I write, I play, I write...
