Pardon me for being Captain Obvious, but sometimes the obvious needs to be said: Booking a show is hard. Booking a show was hard before the pandemic, and booking a show during the pandemic is damn near impossible. The logistics are crazy-making. Finding bands that make a cohesive bill is the easy part. There’s also figuring out load-in times, understanding everyone’s sound setup, and problem-solving the inevitable moment when soundcheck goes awry. Now, add in finding a (COVID-safe) location — and don’t forget promo. Most shows (pre-pandemic) are booked four to six months in advance solely because of promo. It takes work to get people at a show.
But, somehow, Shaina Shepherd managed to put together an entire production and raise over $4,000 for that production in (just under) three days.
Shepherd was originally scheduled to headline the second Cleared for Takeoff show at the Museum of Flight on Friday, April 23, but the organizers cancelled the show on Wednesday due to concerns over rising COVID-19 cases and poor ticket sales. Disappointed both that she wouldn’t be able to perform and that she was missing out on much-needed income after over a year of not playing shows, Shepherd decided to organize the show herself in Jimi Hendrix Park — as she put it, out of “righteous indignation.” Appropriately, she titled it The Artist’s Way (the fundraiser is still accepting donations). Beverly Crusher, who was originally scheduled to open at the Museum of Flight, headlined the show while Shepherd opened.
As a beacon of the music community for her confident and captivating stage presence, vocal support of other artists within the scene, and emphasis on Black art, Shepherd was able to pull together a host of community members to make this production happen. The show was streamed live by Converge Media and also featured Black-owned community merchants like Rooted23, visuals by Blazinspace, and an artist panel with Northwest Folklife Managing Director Reese Tanimura.
As Shepherd strutted onto the stage (the amphitheatre area outside of the Northwest African American Museum) wearing a blue and silver sparkly dress she had bought for the original show, a crowd of about 40 people sat rapt, watching her keenly. She opened the show to immediate cheers with a plea for people to keep wearing masks (including a slyly offhanded joke about staying “safe and sound”), a run down of the show, thanks to all of the community members who helped make the show happen, and a promise of a fun evening.
Shepherd, who was known for fronting rock band Bear Axe before the pandemic, has been working on her solo music during quarantine. Her set ran the gamut from soulful singer songwriter tracks to funky, electronic bops — with one major theme: Black representation, joy, and empowerment. The most powerful moment of her set was a throaty, yet jubilant, rendition of Sam Cooke’s “A Change Is Gonna Come.” Immediately prior, she had danced through her original “Suspicious,” a surprisingly upbeat, bass-heavy, trance jam with lyrics like, “They say I look suspicious with my ‘fro pushed back / and I can see you coming with your baseball bat.” The combination of the two was a beautiful moment of Black joy, a reminder that sometimes it’s okay to smile through pain, and that we can all only do what we can — and sometimes that’s singing a joyfully fed-up song about suspicion.
During intermission, I hosted an artist panel (am I allowed to write about events I’m a part of? Here I am, doing it) with Shepherd, her drummer Heather Thomas, Beverly Crusher frontman Cozell Wilson, Freakout Festival Founder Guy Keltner, and the aforementioned Reese Tanimura. Reflecting on the difficulty of booking shows from an artist perspective, Thomas compared the lack of opportunities to play in Seattle to other major cities. According to Thomas, in cities like Atlanta, a gigging musician can expect to play 5-6 shows a week through residencies at hotels, bars, and restaurants. In Seattle, by contrast, it’s difficult to play more than a couple of shows a month. She advocated for more residencies to be created in Seattle post-pandemic.
Thomas also urged music fans to support musicians by sharing their music, buying merch, and coming to shows. Tanimura emphasized the discrepancy in how music is valued: During the pandemic, musicians have been tasked more than ever with bringing the community together, but that hasn’t translated into monetary aid. She urged audience members to write to their city council members and state officials about the importance of financially backing the arts.
By the time Beverly Crusher took the stage, the crowd had grown to about 60 people, and it was already past 9 p.m., which is when the show was supposed to end. The hard-driving, uptempo rock band (which takes its name from a Star Trek character) blew through their set, blasting intricate, high-pitched guitar solos along the way. The audience danced through every tune, and I was reminded of how out of shape I am after a year without shows when I got winded after three songs of jumping.
Fronted by Wilson, brothers Sam (drums) and Max (bass) Stiles fill out the group (although Evan Captain filled in for Max while he’s on paternity leave with his new son, Lev). I had never seen Bev live before, so I don’t know if they normally talk between songs — but they didn’t need to. The highlights of their set were every one of Wilson’s head-banging guitar riffs, an infectiously happy attitude and increasingly dance-able drum fills from Stiles, and a surprisingly steady flow from Captain (who had minimal practice time with the band).
Bev closed the night with one encore song (the only other song Captain knew), and Shepherd urged everyone to go buy jerk chicken from a guy named Andrew (another community member who came through to make this show happen in just under three days) who had set up a grill by the parking lot. Per Shepherd’s request, almost the entire audience lined up behind the spicy plume of smoke billowing into the night air to have a (socially distanced) meal together. It almost makes you think music and food go together, like it might make sense to have musicians play regularly at restaurants and bars. Go figure. (Call me righteously indignant, too.)
Check out our photo gallery below for all the best, feel-good moments. If you missed the show or just want to relive it, you can watch the full stream through Converge Media.
All photos by Danny Ngan.
To donate to The Artist’s Way fundraiser, click here.
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