INDY'S WEEKLY ALTERNATIVE NEWSPAPER HIGHLIGHTING ARTS, ENTERTAINMENT AND SOCIAL JUSTICE
In the Spotlight
Jethro Easyfields
During time-outs, however, they turn their attention to the stage. There, Holly Reinhardt strums chords and sings in a trilling, jovial voice that recalls Maria Muldaur’s “Midnight at the Oasis.”
When the game comes back on, however, there they go again, watching the mute television, leaving Reinhardt and her ethereal voice to perform to a bar half-filled with somnambulant 20-somethings and quirky, anxious-eyed musicians armed with lyrical stories they hope to share when it’s their turn on the open stage.
Except for the television, this could be a scene from virtually any era. Open stages have been around for ages, one way or another. Whether it was an ancient Greek playwright testing his newborn drama in a sixth century Athens amphitheater, or a 19-year-old accordion player in 21st century Toledo, the concept of the open stage is part of our cultural DNA — a limelight-loving appendage growing in the Petri dish of humanity, ready to sing and dance in the light-saturated, beckoning stage.
Of course, not every performer enjoys pangs of enthusiasm at the prospect of jumping up in front of 20 people and chortling out some kooky ballad. Rookies often see the open mic night as an evil necessity, a sometimes painful, deflowering affair that, if approached haphazardly, can fertilize the seeds of stage fright. Others regale these bawdy, impromptu events as opportunities to develop the comfort necessary to perform in front of large crowds. Those who play on open stages regularly, however, view them as valuable tools for both novice and veteran performers.
Keeping the chops up
Holly Reinhardt is relatively new to the open stage experience. But, having performed as a high school and college thespian, she’s no stranger to the stage. “This is what I do for fun,” the blonde-haired, blue-eyed 23-year-old says. “I’m trying to start a band and this is what I do to keep my chops up for live audiences.”
She’s well-known at Locals Only, her favorite open stage. Man Super, another Wednesday night regular, invites her on stage during his 15-minute set. She obliges him, dishing saccharine harmonies onto his stammering, jilted ode. Reinhardt clearly relishes the chance to perform, even if it’s for five or 10 people, which is sometimes the case on a Monday or Wednesday night. A clerk at a Northside vitamin retailer by day, Reinhardt admits it’s not easy to maintain a regular open stage schedule.
“I try to come to [an open stage] once a week. Sometimes I’m too tired from work to do it,” she explains. “Sometimes I wait until I have a new song, so I can contribute more to the night than just my regular stuff.”
100-proof proving ground
Musicians, comics, poets and actors all seem to agree that the open stage is a prime place to test new material and shed the layers of discomfort many people experience when speaking or performing in front of groups. One man who shed that skin long ago is Jethro Easyfields, Locals Only’s 38-year-old open stage host. Easyfields started out performing on open stages 15 years ago as a way of developing his own, unique sound.
“Even when I was young, under-age, I played open mics and I always looked forward to them,” Easyfields recalls. “It was like my set for the week and I used to hang out in the back of the bar and watch the other musicians because I was too young to hang out up front.”
The fact that these open theaters take place largely in bars lends itself to the “liquid courage” phenomenon evident at a karaoke event, for example, where the “Backbone Meter” edges further into the red with every alcoholic beverage consumed. Both Easyfields and Reinhardt affirm that alcohol consumption often goes hand-in-hand with the open stage format.
“I think whether someone drinks before they go on stage depends on the person’s outlook,” Easyfields says. “Are they doing this as a hobby, or are they trying to be professional? The open mic is a great chance to get comfortable, to try new material. But sometimes people need a little help getting up there.”
A performer’s evolution from shaky-kneed rookie to confident veteran is something Easyfields has seen time and time again. “People build confidence in what they’re doing and in turn they enjoy it more often,” he says. “They come back because of the response from the crowd or they’re just happy with what they did. It’s up to the person.
“A person who wants to play and comes in and gets loaded, and then gets up there and embarrasses himself — well, maybe the next day he won’t remember it being as bad as it seemed at the time,” he explains. “Sometimes this is like therapy. I’ve given away too much information in songs before and gone home and cried afterwards, drunk or not. Some people feel healed after they do this. It lets off a little stress. It feels good. Sometimes it’s kinda like exercising, a release.”
Reinhardt says her worst open stage experiences have come after drinking too many beers prior to performing. “I was just having fun, trying to get a little loosened up before it was my turn on stage,” she says. “But, I must’ve been having a little too much fun — and too much beer. When I got up there, I forgot the words to the songs. I forgot the chords.”
I been so lonely, baby
Too much booze isn’t the only thing that can cause a musician to forget song lyrics. High anxiety and blinding spotlights apparently have as much amnesia-inducing ability as six pints of pale ale. Plus, spectators can be less than accommodating and sometimes outright rude.
While a performer sweats it out on stage, some in the crowd, oblivious to the crisis of ego playing out before them, may engage in loud discussions, heckle and even boo. They are occupational hazards, so to speak, according to Reinhardt. “I can either take it in a bad way and get kind of self-conscious and just sort of half-ass [my performance], or I can just go into my own little world and do it for myself,” she explains. “I just try to remember why I’m up there, why I do it.”
Although the reasons “why they do it” seem myriad, Reinhardt claims her soul-searching open stage performances have, as planned, led to other opportunities inside the Indy music scene. “A couple of times I played during a band’s break between sets. They’d seen me at an open mic and they needed someone who could help them fill up some time. That kinda helped me there,” she says, laughing. “It was their gig and I think I made about 10 bucks.”
Ever an essential music business tool, networking is, of course, an underlying motive for her frequent open stage participation. “You meet somebody who knows the owner of this bar or that,” she explains. “Maybe he has a friend with a recording studio. Also, there are a lot of people around who know the Indy music scene and I’ve found that they can really help you and give you advice. I’ve met a lot of really great people who’ve helped me a lot.”
Breaking through
Off-nights, empty bars and rude crowds can make a lonely debut for these weekday warriors who beat their fears into submission and lovingly perform before empty barstools.
But there are also clear moments of success. Unabashed pride meets apologetic reluctance. Stage fright gives way to sudden limelight comfort. A closet guitar shredder overcomes his basement-bound fear of playing out and triumphantly kicks the shit out of four original songs that, before that moment, he’d only played for his basset hound. So what if only three people heard it? He did it! And for 15 electric minutes his rock didn’t fit in the basement anymore. It was Mt. Rushmore, awash in spotlights.
The evil specter of humiliation, however, is never far off in the open stage format. The venues may change, but the scenes inside and out are often similar — and haunting, especially if your name is next on the list.
A young guy in a grimy Cubs hat stands outside, under the bar’s eave, quietly playing his six-string and struggling to remember the words to a song he would perform 10 minutes later. His guitar chords rang true, but the music of his countenance sang a chorus all its own. It says, “I know I’m gonna screw this up.”
Even if one does botch a performance, no one in the crowd should be able to detect anything but the most obvious blunder, according to Reinhardt. “I think the big thing about performing is if you make a mistake, or if you start to feel embarrassed about something, you have to forget it right away. You can’t dwell on it at all, because people can see that. And that really hurts you as a performer,” she says. “Getting into that ‘improv’ attitude is what it’s all about for me.”
It’s all good
Reinhardt admits that her favorite, most memorable stage experiences came upon receiving live performing’s most coveted currency: an impassioned round of applause from an attentive and responsive audience. “That’s a great feeling,” she says.
But, while the crowd pays its way with appreciative feedback, and performers, in turn, cash spectators’ checks and pocket the confidence, who gets credit for the open stage experience in general? According to Easyfields, credit goes to those who own the venues at which these events take place. He says many musicians regard these events as public service projects undertaken by bars and coffeehouses. Just as visual artists appreciate even the smallest studio willing to display their works, musicians, comedians and poets dig each venue’s willingness to open their stages to unknown performers.
“A public service — that’s a good way to describe it,” says Easyfields, who hosts Locals Only’s open stage, but doesn’t own the establishment. “I mean, I don’t give free guitar lessons when they come in. But, some people want information about this to keep their dream going. ‘Where do I go to play? What songs should I play?’ Any of these people that keep on coming, you know, it feeds their confidence and their ideas. They feel they can actually do this. They have fun and it touches people.”
These events, while sometimes attended by only a handful of patrons, sometimes draw dozens of onlookers — some on hand to see their friends perform live, others simply to witness the spectacle of rookie performers during their first painful moments on stage. Either way, the musical variety show amounts to entertainment. Plus, they buy drinks and food and they boost what might otherwise be just another lackluster weeknight for club owners.
“I know a lot of people who like to come out to these open mic nights,” Easyfields says. “They may not even know anyone performing; they just like the variety.”
More confidence
Variety is the common thread woven into the diverse quilt of open stage events. The songs and the voices that sing them. The cruddy guitar cases. The pristine new ones. The jaded veteran performers and their giddy, frightened counterparts. Live music, particularly on a lighted stage, draws all kinds of people, some who listen and appreciate, others who create and perform.
That diversity yields a healthy offspring. That offspring manifests itself in a vibrant and growing music scene.
Plus, it’s a great time.
“I have so much fun doing [open stages],” a hopeful, exuberant Reinhardt laughs. “And I think I’m getting better at it. I have more songs to play now. It’s kinda funny … I think when they say, ‘You’re getting better,’ it means that when you screw up on stage, you do it with more confidence.”
Wondrous variety
Open stage nights aren’t new to Indianapolis. They’ve been going on for years, decades even. Regaled by veteran musicians as havens for aspiring musicians, stand-up comedians and burgeoning poets, open stage venues are as diverse as they are numerous. In any given week, one can find at least 10 different open stages in the city. They range from smoky taverns to pristine coffeehouses and even churches. And the material presented therein runs the gamut of creative produce. For example, one can find a musical open stage in virtually any format, from non-denominational stages like Locals Only, to Zanies Too’s metal open stage and the Slippery Noodle’s open stage featuring blues. There are poetry open stages and open mic nights for classical musicians, comedians and performance artists. The opportunities for creative expression in Indianapolis are practically boundless. And, most of the time, that creation can take place before a live audience.
What follows is a roundup of area open mic stages; this is not meant to be comprehensive, but a sample for your performing pleasure. All descriptions are by Carma Nibarger.
Dane Kramer’s
Open Stage Tuesdays
Sportz Bar, 4623 E. 10th St.
Sitting across the street from the Emerson Theatre on the Eastside of Indianapolis is the Sportz Bar. And boy is it ever. With pool tables, a jukebox and NASCAR and Budweiser pin-ups peppering the walls, it’s Tuesday night and you’ve found yourself smack dab in the middle of what’s looking to be a favorite local watering hole.
And on open mic night, no less.
Hosted by Dane Kramer since late June, the open stage has been running steady with a sound that’s a little bit blues, a little bit country and a little bit classic rock and roll.
Providing his open mic-ers with a sound system capable of taking on a full band, Kramer says that all anyone has to do is bring their guitar and they can plug in.
Some other perks for performers to keep in mind are the complimentary drinks and the free tacos.
“The taco bar’s open till it’s empty,” laughs Sportz Bar’s new owner Jimmy Latta.
Truly a musician’s open mic, Dane’s Open Stage (along with the taco bar) starts at 8 p.m. and ends when the musicians decide it’s over, whether it’s just a couple hours, or half the night.
Wide Open Mic
Tuesdays
Tip Top Tavern,
1341 N. Capitol Ave.
The Tip Top Tavern is a recent addition to the downtown bar scene and has only opened its stage for about a month.
But it’s Wide Open — and only two blocks from the Stutz. As long as you’re 21 and willing to prove it, anything goes at the Tip Top. Hosted by bassist Michael (Percy) Paschke, the Tip Top supplies its performers with ample stage space, a beat machine, sound system and two complimentary drafts.
“Diversity,” as Percy simply puts it, is what the Wide Open is all about. “Poetry, comedy, acoustic, hip-hop, off-the-cuff ...”
With a few local barflies making up the bulk of the audience, the mood is jovial and accepting. No one bats an eye when a bearded 50-something takes the stage and starts telling jokes about global warming in synch with the beat machine drumming in the background. And when the psychedelic jams start with finger-picking so intricate it’s like desert magic — well, that’s good too.
For seasoned musicians and rookies looking to earn their open mic wings, don’t overlook the Tip Top’s Wide Open Mic night, every Tuesday at 10 p.m.
Open Stage
Tuesdays
Shallo’s Restaurant and Brewhouse,
8811 Hardegan St.
“It’s a great night to meet people and get blown away by some great music,” says Steve Smith of his Tuesday night open stage at Shallo’s Restaurant and Brewhouse.
Located on the Southside of Indianapolis, Shallo’s is the Hoosier version of Cheers. With its rich wooden interior, innumerable varieties of beer and the hum of steady conversation, it has a friendly, laid-back vibe with an open mic to match.
Bringing in music lovers of all ages, Smith’s Open Stage draws patrons out of the shells of their fleece pull-overs and baseball caps and invites them to show off their musical talents. Or at least bob along to the talents of others.
Open less than a year, already this stage has seen classic rock, drum circles, rap and even bagpipes; all music is welcome here.
Cigarettes, however, are not so welcome, as Shallo’s is a non-smoking venue. And, although the stage and restaurant is open to all ages, minors without an adult will be expected to comply with curfew.
As the days get shorter and the SAD sets in, don’t be afraid to shake off the dust and get to Shallo’s. They may not bellow, “Norm!” when you walk in, but then again, your name’s not Norm.
Acoustic Music
Open Stage Sundays
Barley Island Brewing Company,
639 Conner St., Noblesville
What sets the Barley Island Brewing Company’s Sunday night Acoustic Open Stage apart is its all-inclusive attitude. From a skinny teen-ager in suspenders performing bluegrass tunes and jokes of Fozzy Bear caliber, to a folk duo covering Johnny Cash, to a balding and bespectacled man picking out ’70s acoustic psychedelia, you never know what you’re going to get.
“You’re liable to hear anything,” attests music veteran John Renfro.
Performing before an audience of people who look like they have day-jobs, kids and other things going on in their lives besides drinking at brewpubs, the Barley Island Open Stage is a great place for local musicians to polish their chops.
Hosted by Gary Wasson and going on its fourth year, there are no age restrictions or height requirements. All the performers need to do is show up and sign up. Wasson provides the mics and amps and allots 20 minutes per set, 10 sets per night.
All in all, it’s definitely something to keep in mind should Sunday night find you thirsty for a hoppy pint and itching for something free and unpredictable.
Indie Open Stage
Wednesdays
Living Room Lounge,
934 N. Pennsylvania
Where can you go to see a Baby Boomer with a Barbie doll figure shake a rainstick in front of a crowd on a Wednesday night for free? Why, the Living Room Lounge, of course.
Kept open by Percy (of Tip Top notoriety) since the departure of Barrett Welding, the Indie Open Stage has been running solid for about two months. And if things keep going this way, they won’t be stopping any time soon.
Although the term “indie” has developed connotations of hungry hipsters who wear black and are too cool to breathe, this venue is anything but. A little on the rowdy side of things, the Living Room Lounge attracts the kind of people who love life and don’t mind getting into trouble from time to time.
And its open stage attracts musicians who would rather have their knees shot off than stop playing. Limited to a pocket of floor space adjacent to the bar, performers strum out Dylan covers and bluegrass originals.
“[The musicians] here play because they love it,” Barbie (not her real name) explains. “They don’t get paid, they just do it because they love to play.”
All Ages Open Mic
Friday, Nov. 17, 8-10 p.m.
Starbucks,
2902 W. 86th St.
www.BlairKarsch.com
Central Indiana’s only open mic series for youth is headed up by Blair Karsch and features youth performing poetry, rap, song and comedy.
Open Mic Night
Benefiting Improving Kids’ EnvironmentSaturday, Nov. 11, 7-9 p.m. UUI (Unitarian Universalist Church of Indianapolis),
615 W. 43rd St.(just south of Butler University)
$8 (it’s a benefit!); 12 and under free
Now in its sixth season, the Indy Folk Series (www.indyfolkseries.org) is a non-profit venture presenting selected acoustic music in a comfortable, coffeehouse setting. The series showcases local performers and touring artists playing folk, bluegrass, Celtic and other styles. The venue features first-rate acoustics and a friendly atmosphere, putting artists and audience at ease. Refreshments include coffee, wine and a tempting array of snacks.
Improving Kids’ Environment (www.ikecoalition.org) is an Indianapolis-based non-profit, advocacy coalition dedicated to improving children’s health through reductions in environmental threats to children. Environmental threats include lead-based paints, sewage, pesticides, mercury and air pollution. Improving Kids’ Environment as a recipient of a 2004 NUVO Cultural Vision Award.
The Indy Folk Series features an open mic event each November that benefits a local social justice organization.