Live Outposts: Alternative Venue Space in Boston
Boston thrives as a city in many respects, with burgeoning investment in biotechnologies, robotics, and a hearty university-based populace to funnel higher education into contemporary innovation sectors. The history is there, as many of Boston’s chief exports have sat in the realm of academia, as the portal to American knowledge and investment. As investment in the new future of Boston grows, the side effects are clear to any resident: new housing and accompanying crane on every horizon, prominent city development gating and iconography, as well as a shift in where people are spending time.
Though the city itself has a deeply ingrained pedigree for live music, the history books don’t extend much further than the late 70s. It even took until early last year to uncover how Boston’s unusual arts community fostered the birth of Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks, a uniquely important album to folk music’s development (Goodwin 2018). Places that helped contextualize much of the music scene are now gone as well, continuing the venue flip that has turned into something of an epidemic. Much-chattered spaces such as The Rat (Kenmore) and Ryles (Inman) are intangibles of a past movement, shuttering amidst rising rent prices and shifting neighborhoods. In some instances, these venues are self-sabotaging the continuity of live spaces altogether, as S&S (local owners of Ryles at the time), restricted the sale of the venue’s deed to prohibit future zoning as such for up to 30 years (Mason 2018).
In August of last year, local outlet Vanyaland found the squeeze of Boston venue space to be so immediate that they published a survey of past haunts, a list almost too robust to believe it could be referencing the same city. These venues, including storied names such as The Abbey Lounge, Avalon, Boston Tea Party, Psychedelic Supermarket, and The Catacombs portray an array of diverse and widespread public appreciation for live music. These "traditional non‐traditional" (Robinson 2013) venues, built on the support of localized artist communities and movements, were crucial to the development of greater arts appreciation within the city of Boston. For many performers, alternative spaces “offered a quicker, easier way to plan a concert” (ibid), where there were less external pressures related to financing and revenue splits.
When searching for the roster of potential spaces to host shows, I wasn’t expecting to find a necessarily robust list, but hopefully to be surprised in the slightest—places that had evaded my deep dives and internet scrowls over the years. At this point, I had been attending and interacting with the underground music scene in Boston (known colloquially as DIY) since I started college. Throughout many concerts attended, I had forged meaningful relationships with artists, show promoters, photographers, and other musicians. I have even graced basements stages a few times, backing up friends and further blurring the lines between audience member and musical instigator.
I considered my understanding of the DIY scene to be clear and comprehensive—there were either houses or legitimate professional venues to book, and not much room in between to be flexible. When searching for a location to further explore the practice of mindfully supporting underground music within Boston, I came upon one of a few rare “traditional-non-traditional” spaces made available. In the heart of Inman Square, about 10 minutes from the Central Square red line stop, Outpost 186 exists as a hybrid gallery and (traditionally) jazz club for residents of Cambridge’s eclectic arts community. Run by local stalwart Rob Chalfen, the brown three-flat serves as an arts, media and performancevehicle, promoting off-kilter poetry readings, improvisational jazz concerts, and happening showcases. Only with the recent squeeze of accessible spaces, highlighted by WBUR, has Outpost gained a soft spot in the hearts of many members of the underground music community. The report released via WBUR in joint by the TDC and City of Boston cites that the “imbalance [of space] is exacerbated by suppliers of arts facilities lacking adequate funding to offer their spaces at affordable rates” (Gray 2018), making Outpost—at $100 dollars per show (and $75/show for a series of three)—unique in offering.
It was a little rough to gain initial contact with Rob, who coordinates dates for Outpost through a facebook page, explicitly promoting entry on exploratory means when I added a friend who had inquired about hosting a show: “Don't add people by recommendation, but you can suggest that your friends apply to Outpost themselves.” Via email, Rob is curt and concise. There is a certain intimidation to the lowercase quips of his information, which made any interaction (and only online interaction) all the more jarring.
Rob runs Outpost with a level of professionalism that encourages talent buyers to approach their shows with the same respect. He appears to hope the space can continue into the foreseeable future, but understands that this is not only done by making a large profit, but by creating traffic, audiences, and regulars. Though Gray asserts that most Boston “venue owners can't afford to subsidize their spaces” (2018), Rob seems not to be concerned. He has a family renting out the side unit (who are away on performance dates), while a Psychotherapy office holds the second and third floors.
Rob runs Outpost with a level of professionalism that encourages talent buyers to approach their shows with the same respect. He appears to hope the space can continue into the foreseeable future, but understands that this is not only done by making a large profit, but by creating traffic, audiences, and regulars. Though Gray asserts that most Boston “venue owners can't afford to subsidize their spaces” (2018), Rob seems not to be concerned. He has a family renting out the side unit (who are away on performance dates), while a Psychotherapy office holds the second and third floors.
With Outpost 186 confirmed for a date (3/10), I quickly made the transition from analytic and passive to full participatory field work. Through existing connections talking to many people at past shows in the space, I was able to slowly piece together artists. The show focus was more folk-oriented, and served the greater Cambridge area’s strong historical propensity for the genre by stringing together two singer/songwriters with a harp performer. I decided to make this first concert more representative of its locale, based partly on information gathered through an analysis of Western Australian touring music industries, where researchers discuss the fact that “many smaller communities have particular musical tastes, and extending these tastes with unfamiliar acts presents a financial risk for the limited number of venues” (Ballico & Bennett, 2010). I settled on serving sustaining community arts scenes with mindful community programming in hopes that the show I had developed would not simply exist on its own.
The first show I booked was meticulously planned out, partly due to help and direction from local talent buyer Elizabeth Markow, a friend I had made initially attending other Outpost shows. At first, Elizabeth did not come to the practice as a self-motivated actor, but rather on the behalf of artists she was working with on other projects—as a marketing or social media consultant at first, and then a pseudo-booking agent to further spread the word. She herself used Outpost for the same reasons that many others, like myself, had identified.
I think it's halfway, in the middle of a basement and more traditional type of venue. You still have that like autonomy of "okay, I'm going to make it look this way and I'm going to put this many people in the room," and where [you say] "I'm going to make this the door [fee]," you know? You pretty much have control over everything and at the end of the night, there's the room fee and then whatever else you make is want to do with that. Whereas like other venues, there's percentages and guidelines to give you a more structured way. [Outpost] is just more equitable. -Elizabeth Markow
I was rather affected by the connection she had to booking shows in spaces that she could have full control of. Since a lot of DIY venues also serve as people’s homes and apartments, it becomes difficult to transfer administrative ability to the individual booking a show on site (which may not be someone within the residence), so having a neutral site like Outpost proves to be uniquely important. Elizabeth’s need to treat each each equally and with the same attention to detail is what made her stand out to me as an exceptional member of the live music community.
Together, we set out to craft a successful show, first reaching out and commissioning custom designed poster artwork from a local artist. I had grown a list of direct actions that were deemed required to develop a show in an alternative space, all from fieldnotes taken during performances as either an audience member or performer in the few alternative venue spaces in Boston.
- Poster design, preferably custom designed. Not too sloppy, not too corporate
- Facebook event up, all bands and venue contact as hosts
- Group message with all bands for coordination
- List of gear needed for live sound at venue
- Detailed day-of schedule, including soundchecks and show times
- Payment sharing service (like venmo) set up for collecting donations
- Good and engaging promotion for high turnout
It's not a basement. Because there's not that established professionalism, but you've booked the space through someone else. It's not just someone's house where people are living like existing all the time. There's added amount of importance and imbued respect, and I think respecting the space is really important. Not to say I don't respect people's basements, but it's different. -Elizabeth Markow
The result, through careful execution (and a lot of improvising), was a well attended show, lasting a total of five hours from arrival to teardown and departure. The process was challenging for me, to see through a project that is only the manifestation of the energy and attention to detail that one puts in. As Elizabeth and I discussed the talent buying community after the show, the importance of fair payment was discussed as another hallmark of successful concerts. For alternative venue spaces, this is also something the artists and talent buyer have full autonomy over, not having to relinquish any finances to other stakeholders or entities. As Robinson mentions in relation to (le) poisson rouge in Manhattan, “artists can try new things with relatively low risk to their budgets and reputations in alternative venues” (2013), helping them focus solely on the performance. Elizabeth seemed to agree, never taking a cut from any shows she’s booked unless it was unprompted.
I've never asked for a cut. Given? Okay. But I've never been like, "this is what I'm going to take." It was like, "we made this. We're splitting it this many ways.". And then at that point, I was lumped in with the band. The band that you help book, they kind of treated you as another member. But I've also done shows there where I haven't taken anything because it didn't feel like. -Elizabeth Markow
After the process of booking has become more internalized, I see that the way to sustain use of similar spaces and promote the growth of resources is through direct engagement and patronage—building out shows in these “traditional-non-traditional” venues to help bolster audiences, and drive more traffic financially for support. For Boston and beyond, alternative space is truly the space to promote the arts. In a full multidisciplinary fashion, the reality of full control allows organizers to provide and promote safe and equitable spaces for all, serving the wholistic community rather than a selection. Non-exclusive attendance policy helps breeds diverse and loyal crowds and establishes a relaxed atmosphere overall. If Boston is to see a revival in the arts, it must work towards identifying and supporting these spaces the way that I have seen work at Outpost 186, for a more sustainable future.
A collection of Outpost musicking taking place during a show in late February (2019)
(the above audio clip features a conversation with local talent buyer Elizabeth Markow on alternative space use in Boston)
Works Cited
Ballico, Christina, and Dawn Bennett. "The tyranny of distance: Viability and relevance in regional live music performance." The UNESCO E-journal of Interdisciplinary Research in the Arts 5 (2010).
Goodwin, Jeremy D. "In 'Astral Weeks,' A Tale Of Van Morrison's Time In The 'Weirder' Boston Of 1968." WBUR. March 08, 2018. Accessed February 25, 2019. https://www.wbur.org/artery/2018/03/06/ryan-walsh-van-morrison-astral-weeks
Gray, Arielle. "Report: Performing Arts Spaces in Boston Are Still Inaccessible To Artists." WBUR. December 03, 2018. Accessed January 25, 2019. https://www.wbur.org/artery/2018/12/03/report-performing-arts-spaces-in-boston-inaccessible-to-artists.
Mason, Amelia. "Remembering Ryles, A Storied Jazz Club That Lit Up Inman Square For 40 Years." WBUR. August 09, 2018. Accessed February 29, 2019. https://www.wbur.org/artery/2018/06/29/ryles-jazz-club-salsa-cambridge
Robinson, Sarah May. "Chamber Music in Alternative Venues In the 21st Century US: Investigating the Effect of New Venues On Concert Culture, Programming and the Business of Classical Music." (2013).
Additional References:
- https://www.bostonglobe.com/magazine/2017/06/06/closed-years-ago-but-rat-rollicking-echoes-reverb/Y4Zf8mlZ83mQ65veK1JB3O/story.html
- https://www.bostonmagazine.com/restaurants/2018/02/27/ryles-jazz-club-will-close/
- https://vanyaland.com/2018/08/30/boston-gone-the-sites-of-rock-clubs-and-music-venues-no-longer-with-us/