by Paul Klemperer

The Ebb and Flow of Venues

As a jazz musician I was disappointed but not surprised to learn that another live music venue here in Austin has decided that jazz doesn't sell enough drinks. The club shall remain unnamed, but the story is older than I am, and nobody needs to hear another rant about the lack of support for creative music. It's just one less gig. Let's look instead at some of the ways creative music is being supported here. Generally speaking, venues are either commercial or non-commercial. In a commercial venue, music is foremost a product to be sold, like food or alcohol. Just as a restaurant usually has a set menu or style of food, commercial music must fit into designated labels. I've been to a couple restaurants where one would ask: "What's on the menu?" and the response was, "I don't know. I'll see what the cook is making." These experiences, however, are few and far between. If chefs cooked like jazz musicians play (and some of them do) we might get some incredible cuisine, but those restaurants invariably do not last long.

Occasionally some creative people are able to use a commercial framework without losing their joie de vivre. We see this most often in commercial settings that have a longstanding connection to more artistic parts of the community, for example coffee houses, art galleries, book and record stores.

A good example of this creativity in action is the silent film series put on by the Alamo Drafthouse, incorporating local musicians to provide original live music accompaniment. The shows tend to be sold out, reflecting definitive community support, and they have been going on for some time now. I was fortunate to catch the showing of the 1925 version of Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World recently, for which accompaniment was provided by a 15-piece orchestra made up of members of Brown Whorenet and The Golden Arm Trio. The evening was a feast for eyes and ears, but more than that it proved once again that commercial enterprises do not have to sacrifice creativity in the pursuit of profit, and that our greatest resource, human talent, can be harnessed to create a product which the community will buy, without the whole process becoming exploitive and unpleasantly bourgeois.

Non-commercial venues may include publicly supported institutions, such as college theaters, museums, and the like, but there is also the range of unfunded and often short-lived spaces, things like jamming in the park or at private parties, underground raves and whatever strategies people come up with to reinvent their musical communities. The most vibrant times seem to be when both sectors (funded and unfunded) of the non-commercial environment can interact. All too often academic institutions are self-enclosed worlds lacking consistent contact with the less learned community. Musically, this has led to a distinction between academically trained musicians and those with street or "real world" experience. Both camps can benefit from each other's knowledge and create more vibrant music. There are indications that we are in such a period here in Austin. At least there is more recognition that young "street" jazz players are infusing the local scene with their energy.

Austin has a history of creating venues for young experimental players. The only problem is that these venues don't pay (well, maybe beer money), and have a brief longevity. Two recent exceptions to the longevity rule are the concerts at Movements Gallery, and the shows and in-stores at 33 Degrees record store. The Tuesday jazz concerts at Movements have consistently provided some of the most creative music in town for more than a year now, and 33 Degrees regularly hosts national and international experimental music groups. Our own DiverseArts Sunday Salons also should not go without mention.

For jazz and other experimental musicians, it is an unfortunate truth that age makes conservatives of us. Partly this is because our tastes tend to stabilize as we grow older, but I think it is more the result of economic factors. Youth has the time and freedom to experiment, whereas aging geezers like myself have to make a living and if we do it through music, we tend to genuflect before the tastes of the marketplace. All too often this means that young players have to reinvent the wheel when it comes to promulgating experimental music.

But this is not always the case, and every example of aging artists (and business people working with them) who don't lose their youthful flexibility is a crack in the wall of monolithically monotonous mainstream 'Merica. It also shows that Austin is not a typical college town where experimental art is essentially an extension of transient student culture. One of the best examples of this that I can think of is the Creative Opportunity Orchestra (CO2), possibly the oldest creative music group in our city. The musical love child of trombonist Randy Zimmerman and singer Tina Marsh, the C02 provides a consistent clarion call, encouraging artists to pursue their vision, and bringing together supporters of creative music from different parts of our community.

Venues come and go, but Austin's creative music tradition continues to survive. At times it seems we are on the verge of a renaissance; other times it's back into the trenches. Realistically, jazz has always faced these cycles. What is perhaps more encouraging is the appearance of new types of venues which not only showcase creative music, but expand the function of the venues themselves.