Category: Retro (page 1 of 6)

October 29, 2020

Monster Mashup

Originally published in COLUMBUS ALIVE

Ask any band what frightens them most at the moment and it’s probably the prospect of empty stages with no end in sight. It even scares the members of Mummula, whose spooky shtick should be selling out gigs right now instead of lingering in the shadows.

“With all the uncertainty with the virus, it became a question beyond whether venues were going to be open and more about if they would be safe for the people we care about,” confessed Eric von Goosebump. “We don’t want to have our fans, friends, and family come see us and then get sick. I think we collectively decided let’s just play it safe and kind of tap out for a while.”

With all the grit of a garage band, the members of Mummula perform horror-inspired hits and credible covers dressed in matching black capes and bandaged heads. Loyal fans are already in on the gag, but the uninitiated are often left wondering whether these four guys are for real or just a ghoulish gimmick intended to hide a bunch of retro rock wannabes.

“People are genuinely surprised when they listen to us because we do a really nice punk show, but we have some garage rock elements in there as well as the surf instrumentals which really resonate when it all comes together,” explained Mark Hovthevampyre. “It’s like a full-package, variety, Scooby-Doo kind of show singing about monsters and aliens.”

Mummula is very real, and any doubts are settled as soon as they take the stage, hitting predictable power chords at a break-neck beat with catchy tunes like “My Baby’s Turnin’ into a Wolfman” and “Ed Wouldn’t”. Every song is unexpected, with members trading traditional instruments and vocals, and the occasional cameo from a keytar or kazoo. They even have their own fan club cleverly called The Wrap, keeping their growing legion of followers hip to their happenings throughout the Midwest, even as the pandemic persists.

From traditional club gigs to tiny charity performances, Mummula defies description or easy categorization. They’re surf meets snark, punk meets parody — as if Dick Dale founded Devo, or Joey Ramone and Weird Al conspired to create the genetic lovechild of Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi.

Sadly, several annual events were cancelled or delayed indefinitely this year, like the local Fraternal Order of Moai’s Hula Hop and Point Pleasant, West Virginia’s Mothman Festival. In fact, Mummula’s last show before everything wound down was the Horror Prom at Spacebar, a Valentine’s Day “paranormal formal” for ghoulishly attired couples. It was an unintentionally ominous milestone just as the thin line between dark fantasy and harsh reality was about to blur.

As if their signature swag and pseudonyms don’t give it away, there’s obviously some deft design and branding expertise among the members, more than a subtle hint to their day gigs. Like most bands, moving music and merchandise online instead of at shows has become the standard, but they’re also spreading some goodwill as the chill of fall settles over Ohio. The band launched Mummula face masks earlier this year with all proceeds going to the United Way Worldwide’s COVID-19 Community Response and Recovery Fund, and an upcoming release to benefit the Movember Foundation next month builds on a prior EP to raise funds for the men’s health initiative.

“One gig that stands out for me was when we played HorrorHound Weekend several years ago. The crowd was huge. That was probably our biggest show so far, so it was kind of terrifying,” recalled El Santos. “But we were in our element, connecting with a bunch of horror fans, and we got to end the day with a lot of bigger bands in the horror punk scene.”

There is indeed a “horror punk scene”, but hardly obscure or recent. Though Mummula’s origin technically grew out a running monster mashup gag among the founding members during a road trip to a horror convention, the story actually goes back to the late 80s. The Canadian band Forbidden Dimension so captured their imagination, when Mummula eventually released their debut album in 2016, they asked the lead singer (and fellow graphic designer) to create the cover. The relationship came full circle when both groups shared the same stage in Nashville, illustrating the unique genre’s ability to connect fans and bands despite the distance and decades between them.

“Mummula hits all of these different communities — people who love surf, people who love punk, people who love monsters,” noted Kevbot 2. “I think that’s the thing I miss most, when you go to a show and you play for someone who hasn’t seen Mummula and they dig it, they’re surprised, and it completely makes their night.” ▩

For more on Mummula, visit them on Facebook and Bandcamp.

October 21, 2020

Hammer Time

Originally published in COLUMBUS ALIVE

Whether mending a hem or making your own pizza, the pandemic has pushed many to hone practical skills at home, often at an accelerated pace. Remember how quickly folks went from baking sourdough to brewing their own beer?

But there are still some skills you can’t learn on Youtube, those that require a steady hand that only comes with experience, especially with arts quickly fading away amid advancing technology. So if blacksmithing is on your bucket list, Adlai Stein is your mentor for all things metal.

“I used to go to the Met in New York with my grandfather and look at the arms and armor. I loved history, but was also fascinated by Tolkien and tales of King Arthur,” Stein recalled. “That sense of adventure was always in my head, and I joined a medieval reenactment group called the Society for Creative Anachronism. That’s what got me started in blacksmithing, and I’ve been doing it ever since.”

The artistry of ancient weapons that captivated him as a child inspired the hobby that eventually overtook his occupation as a paralegal. Despite taking off his tie for the last time and picking up a hammer, it still took Stein years beforehand to master the tools and techniques to become a full-time blacksmith.

Classes at the Idea Foundry in Franklinton soon outgrew the space, so Stein relocated his studio, Macabee Metals, to a larger shop off of Central Avenue and started the Central Ohio School of Metalwork. In addition to private lessons, workshops have opened to door to those whose interest may be tempered by apprehension. From sand casting to railroad spike knives, everyone leaves with skills and an individual experience you won’t find elsewhere — and a finished memento forged with their own hands.

“The maker movement has really changed the perception of products that are made by hand, and the people who make them,” he noted. “Things that used to be viewed as inferior unless they were mass-produced are now in demand. People want to know how things are made, and who makes them.”

Blacksmithing was already enjoying a bit of renaissance even before the COVID crisis. The History Channel series Forged in Fire has emerged from cable television curiosity to become a top-rated show entering its eighth season. Stein competed himself in the third season, and later helped prepare another local contestant for the unforeseen challenges of the competition. He’s also been a featured speaker at TEDxColumbus, sharing his journey from artist to educator.

“Blacksmiths are such a tight-knit community of people, we’ll really don’t compete against one another. We’re all doing our own thing,” Stein explained. “You may go to a knife show where you know everyone there making handmade knives, but they’re all unique. It’s kind of like going to the Arnold [Sports Festival]. You don’t get mad because someone enjoys the same thing you do. It’s a chance to learn from one another.”

When you’re swinging a hammer and moving hot metal from a forge to an anvil, social distancing is second nature instead of an afterthought. Slowly shaping an abstract slab of steel into a purposeful profile, quenching the blade, then grinding and polishing it to a refined finish takes about four hours. But much like Forged in Fire, it’s time that goes by faster than you think. Beneath the controlled chaos there’s a sense of Zen to the entire process, equal parts art and science. What may have started as a one-time indulgence might just become your new favorite past-time.

Though Stein admits the perception of blacksmithing, somewhat perpetuated by the show, is “40-year-old white guys with beards”, interest doesn’t fit a predictable mold any more than two knives turn out exactly the same. Exhibitions at events like Summer Jam West cast a wide net, and his students for private and group classes have leaned decidedly younger and more diverse over time, some of whom are considering becoming blacksmiths themselves someday.

“I have 16-year-old girls who come in and kick ass, and 40-year-old men who get tired and walk out. Some people think it’s all about strength, when it’s really about accuracy and patience,” revealed Stein. “It takes someone who is fearless to be able to look at 1800 degrees of metal to say, ‘I going to move this with a hammer.’ It’s a different kind of strength, the strength of character.” ▩

For more on the Central Ohio School of Metalwork, including upcoming workshops, visit cosommetalwork.com

August 17, 2020

Wonderful Wizard of Za

Originally published in COLUMBUS ALIVE

Columbus style pizza is an enduring enigma struggling for distinction among a dozen or so signature styles in Central Ohio, both celebrated and obscure. Thin crusts and square cuts are the obvious attributes, but maybe even that widely-accepted definition is dangerously narrow?

Spencer Saylor didn’t set out to cause a stir, but his homemade Sicilian pies did anyway. If you haven’t heard about Wizard of Za, you’re not alone. Saylor’s underground pizza empire has been inconspicuously operating for months exclusively on Instagram. But the improbable backstory of how a singer-songwriter from Youngstown ended up with a list of thousands of strangers waiting to try one of his handcrafted creations has been equally elusive.

“When I was a kid, I loved making pizza with my dad. He’d make the dough and I’d help put on the toppings,” he recalled. “You might go out for pizza on a Friday night or for someone’s birthday. But homemade pizza was just part of growing up in Youngstown.”

Music was also a family tradition. Saylor’s father played guitar, an instrument he likewise pickup at an early age, and his mother loved to sing. His grandmother was a music teacher and his grandfather used to tour with Johnny Cash. So when Saylor pursued songwriting, it wasn’t exactly non sequitur. But getting invited to open up for John Mayer caught even him by surprise.

“I used to sit in my bedroom listening to his songs since I was probably seven. I never thought in a million years we’d be sharing the same stage,” he confessed. “I hoped I might see him someday from the nosebleed seats of an arena. Opening for him was actually the first time I saw him perform.”

Like many professional musicians, Saylor also had a steady gig. Event planning afforded him the opportunity to travel a lot, which was the original inspiration for Wizard of Za, a visual diary of exceptional local pizza discovered along the way. But when the pandemic cancelled nearly everything in March, he started to hone another craft from home, reinventing the comfort food of his childhood and chronicling that journey on Instagram instead. Saylor pulled back the proverbial curtain and more than a few folks started to take notice.

“The more photos I’d post, the more people asked to try one of my pies. Once friends and family got their hands on it, they started posting to their Instagram accounts. The next thing I knew, I had people I didn’t know reaching out wanting one as well,” he explained. “I’d thought about maybe opening a restaurant two or three years from now. It’s hard to believe it’s only been four months.”

Time somehow moves slowly and quickly during a crisis. Though opening up a restaurant right now while so many are struggling to stay open may seem half-baked, Saylor’s savory side hustle isn’t. Buckeyes and Blue Jackets players whose seasons were sidelined were among his earliest unofficial endorsements, as were a surreal mix of celebrities who happened to pass through Columbus and heard rumors about this random guy slinging serious slices, from Chef Robert Irvine to John C. Reilly.

Their curiosity and enthusiasm are entirely deserved. The crunchy focaccia crust is covered in sesame seeds on the bottom instead of a dusting of corn meal, giving it an unexpected nuttiness. The spicy homemade sauce and cup-and-char Ezzo pepperoni are balanced by bubbly mozzarella and provolone in-between. Saylor then hits every pie with a drizzle of hot honey, grated Pecorino Romano, and a little fresh basil. His vodka sauce variation with fresh mozzarella he also makes himself is a culinary case study on how simple, yet sophisticated, pizza can be.

Is it the classic Columbus style pizza? Definitely not. But if that definition is distilled to something more essential — singular and authentic, steeped in family history, and a passion for people and the city they share, then yes. Wizard of Za is everything we love about pizza in Columbus.

The eminent opening of his still secret brick and mortar location in Clintonville will maintain the speakeasy mystique, absent any obvious signage outside. And though some may dismiss such a strategy as shrewd marketing or simply pretentious, it’s actually quite the opposite.

“I’m a one-man show, and the only reason there is a list is so I can keep up. But even with a restaurant and doing this full-time, I still want everyone to feel like they’ve discovered something new and unique,” Saylor noted. “Columbus has solid pizza all around. But I think Columbus has the power to make its mark like some of the better known pizza destinations in the country — like New Haven, New York, and Chicago. To be one of those places people come to Columbus to visit, that’s the kind of list I’d like to be on someday. ▩

To get in line for your own pie, and for the latest on his brick and mortar endeavor, follow the Wizard of Za on Instagram

August 1, 2020

Newfangled Kitchen

Originally published in the August 2020 issue of (614) Magazine

Comfort food is always in style, though not necessarily in season. Salads and soups seem to oscillate with our celestial orbit, and even the temperature of coffee and tea tends to change with the autumn leaves. But maybe meatloaf is the exception, or should be?

Newfangled Kitchen in Bexley gives more than a nod to approachable cuisine and southern hospitality, one that started with signature sandwiches celebrating the hamburger’s hefty cousin, but certainly doesn’t end there.

“We draw a lot of inspiration from the South — the small towns in the Carolinas where you’ll stop for a bite to eat and the food and service are homemade and genuine, not canned,” recalled Eric Dennison, who started Newfangled Kitchen with his wife Laura and their son Ethan. “We wanted to create comfort food favorites with a modern twist.”

Despite the unassuming menu, Eric’s previous stints at Katzinger’s and Lexi’s on Third reveal a refined understanding of humble ingredients and their precarious balance. From the low-country Southern Melt’s spicy pimento cheese, tomato, and red onion on grilled marbled rye to the ominous Lucifer’s Hammer, with pickled jalapeños, pepperjack, and house “diablo” sauce on an egg-washed bun, the star is still the meatloaf.

“We ate so much meatloaf trying to get the recipe right. It took months, and sometimes we just had to take a weekend off,” he laughed. “I’d change one thing, certain this would finally be it, and it would be the worst one yet. We were still working on the perfect recipe when we signed the lease.”

Perhaps the only thing that brings families closer together than a quarantine is a family restaurant, and the tiny kitchen and dining room next to Drexel Theaters is just the right fit for a curated menu of sandwiches, salads, soups, and specials. Though currently closed for dine-in, takeout patrons can still peruse their peculiar vending machine, stocked with 80s artifacts: like PEZ dispensers, a deck of UNO cards, and Top Gun on VHS. Everything about Newfangled Kitchen invites another visit.

“Ethan is so stellar when it comes to service, he’s just gifted with that gene. And my wife is so great with the guests and really understanding what it takes to market on social media. Then I handle all the production stuff in the back,” Eric chided. Much like meatloaf, the right recipe holds everything together. “We decided when we reopened that it was best if it was just the three of us, and we reduced our hours to make that work knowing we were going to be spending literally every hour of every day together. Financially, it made sense to stay lean, but we also knew it would be more safe for our guests.”

There are undeniable advantages right now for restaurants that can practically calculate their overhead, labor, and food cost on the back of a napkin. But when your signature product’s primary ingredient is unaffordable or unavailable, even the best bootstraps may not be enough. When Wendy’s announced in early May even they had run out of hamburger, it was a gut check.

“It’s really, really important that we have the right grind, the right fat content, which makes the sourcing more difficult. When we found a good price, we’d buy it, and fortunately, we were so busy when we opened back up, we weren’t forced to freeze anything. We’ve never done that, and I don’t know how that would work with our meatloaf,” he revealed. “There was about a day and a half when we didn’t have meatloaf. I just couldn’t get ground beef anywhere, and when we did, it was almost three times as expensive. We just had to take the hit.”

Recent additions include a Valentine’s Day throwback. The Pretty Girl offers more of a sweet heat featuring those same jalapeños, but with a milder cheddar, red onion, and smoky “fang” sauce. Meanwhile, the Back Step Slide combines bacon, bleu cheese, and balsamic aioli. Both are perfectly served between thick slices of grilled marbled rye. And if a killer “Kitchen Kobb”, a fried slab of bologna, portabellas and roasted red peppers, and egg salad cleverly billed as “barnyard caviar” are also your style, skip the basket and grab a sack on the way to your favorite park for a picnic feast without the fuss.

“We’re seeing a lot more repeat business now that everyone is staying closer to home. So we broadened the menu a little to keep everything fresh,” Eric explained. “Sometimes we see the same people three days a week. It’s also a bit more fun on our end, to be creative. It isn’t always easy to smile behind a mask. But it becomes exponentially easier when you have the kind of clientele we do, and the outpouring of support we’ve received has been so heartening. Failure for us just isn’t an option. ▩

For more on Newfangled Kitchen’s current hours and specials, follow them on Facebook, and visit newfangledkitchen.com

July 24, 2020

Sexy Supper Club

Originally published in (614) Magazine’s digital daily, 614NOW

Restaurant openings have become rare recently, and nightclubs are almost an afterthought. Which is precisely why Ivan Kane’s Forty Deuce deserves your undivided attention, even if a little striptease wasn’t on the menu.

“We’ve adapted our burlesque show to more of a supper club, to keep everyone comfortable and safe. We’ll still have our live trio and performances, but it will be a little more exclusive to ensure social distancing,” explained Ivan Kane, whose previous ventures in Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and Atlantic City helped put corsets, fishnets, and risqué routines back into the mainstream. “It’s really not a compromise. It’s just a different experience.”

You’ll still find red velvet seating in an intimate setting, but with a deliberate attention to the practical realities of operating during a pandemic. Discrete cleaning during club hours and ultraviolet lighting after the doors close are among the added measures Kane demanded before he was ready to open the latest addition to Easton Town Center.

Shows are also limited to just 55 patrons spread across the club with inclusive pricing for drinks, dinner, and dessert—currently craft cocktails, bottle service, a selection of signature items from the café downstairs that is the counterpart to the club, well-hidden behind a freezer door at the back of the kitchen. Evenings offer two shows during the week, with a later cocktails-only show on the weekends.

“Forty Deuce is actually one of the safest rooms in the city because of these extra precautions we’ve taken,” he noted. “It’s a challenging time for everyone right now, and I hope we can provide a little respite from all the pressure.”

Performers Michelle Mejia and Tori Kent recently relocated to Columbus after auditioning in Los Angeles earlier this year. Both were already professional dancers, having worked with recording artists from Iggy Azalea to Janet Jackson. But the allure of burlesque and the chance to be part of something new drew both to Forty Deuce.

“People seem to think burlesque is another form of stripping. But it’s a performance with a live band and extravagant costumes,” Mejia explained. “We tease, but don’t take it all off, and that’s what makes the dance exhilarating, for us and the audience.”

Forty Deuce feels more industrial than the average nightclub, and distinct from the diner motif of the café below. But the design is intentional with bar tops and banquets connected by catwalks that turn the entire establishment into a stage. Pipes become props for inverted performances and an inconspicuous zipline carries dancers over patrons heads.

“I also have a background in gymnastics and Taekwondo, but this is actually my first experience with burlesque,” revealed Kent. “There are a lot of jumps and splits, and hanging upside down in our performances, so it still intertwines with that training.”

Columbus may not seem like the obvious city to open a sexy supper club. But May would have marked the return of the Midwest Burlesque and Rockabilly Weekend if not for COVID cancellations—and the Ohio Burlesque Festival in Cleveland, was forced to push their annual event from August to October. Our speakeasy scene is hardly a secret either, with basements and back rooms hosting bootlegger-inspired bars that are legal, but still mostly known only to the locals.

“I hadn’t thought about the Midwest to be perfectly honest, but it wasn’t a hard sell,” Kane confessed. “Once I saw what an incredibly sophisticated, diverse demographic is here, how vibrant and forward-thinking the city is, it was a no-brainer.”

Kane is somewhat notorious as a hands-on operator, and Forty Deuce is his passion project. His wife, better known by her stage name Champagne Suzy, deserves a degree of credit for the burlesque revival. Both will likely become more familiar faces around town having procured a place in the Short North, while still splitting time managing venues elsewhere.

“I don’t develop projects and move on. I’m on the floor involved in the choreography, the costumes, the lighting, the menu. So it’s imperative to be here,” Kane noted. “Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and Atlantic City are sexy. But Columbus was hands down the best decision I ever made in terms of viability, in terms of the community. I just love it.” ▩

Additional details on dining, showtimes, and tickets at fortydeuce.com

June 1, 2020

Special Delivery

Originally published in the June 2020 issue of (614) Magazine

It isn’t easy to outhustle Amazon. The point-and-click purveyor of everything certainly hasn’t been hurt by the current pandemic. It may be the only business immune to it.

Meanwhile, small shops struggle to survive until they can reopen their doors. For many, the shift to direct delivery was born of necessity. With taprooms closed, local breweries were among the first to offer to-you-door service. But they aren’t the only ones rapidly reinventing the way they reach customers outside their retail space.

Spoonful Records | spoonful-records.myshopify.com

The beloved local record shop never needed a robust internet presence, pushing off the prospect of online expansion for years. They assured patrons the reason their selection was so exhaustive was because you had to come into the store to shop. Unlike digital downloads, records aren’t really commodities. Condition matters and trusted curators who inspect and clean each album by hand are even more rare than some of their elusive inventory.

“We stayed open by appointment for about a week, while I worked on the website, which was finished the same day the governor shut everything down,” explained Amy Kesting, who owns and operates the bustling album emporium with her husband Brett Ruland. “I think there were only 20 items, but every day we add a few more things. Our customers know they can have the same confidence buying from us, even online.”

Kesting isn’t an amateur when it comes to the logistical challenges of online sales. Though Ruland focuses on trends and follows new vinyl releases, Kesting concentrates on collections, acquiring the balance of classic and obscure albums that define Spoonful Records. A dot-com era stint processing artwork damaged during shipping also gave her more than a little apprehension about the prospects of making such fragile merchandise mail-order only.

“From the get-go we had to figure out the right shipping price. A box cost $1.50—a good box, not the single-fold ones—and most media mail is like $3.50 to $4.50. So we’re charging $5.85 for shipping, and if it was close by, we just started delivering them ourselves,” she explained. “I was like, I can drop this off in Bexley, or go to Upper Arlington today. No problem.”

Local deliveries started by bicycle, but soon moved to excursions outside 270. They hired a driver to ensure same day deliveries when possible, but they still make extended record road trips themselves.

“We let everyone know on Facebook when we’ll be in their area, and they can just add to the order. One day, we went to Marysville, Delaware, and Powell and made a huge trip of it, like 15 deliveries,” Kesting recalled. “It rained the whole time, but was totally worthwhile. It was kind of like couples time, listening to music together along the way.”

Early enthusiasm has helped offset uncertainties about the future, particularly Record Store Day, the industry’s most notable annual event, already delayed twice. The retail closure has also afforded the opportunity to sort through a couple of recently acquired collections, not that Spoonful Records isn’t busy.

“We try to be humble and realistic, but April was our best month in at least the last two or three years that wasn’t a Record Store Day month or holiday sales month,” she noted. “We actually did more in sales through the website than we do normally in our brick and mortar. We’re so grateful everyone has been willing to support us through this, we wish we did it sooner.

Roll Bicycle Company | rollbicycles.com

Launching a new location in the midst of a crisis may seem risky, but Roll is hardly a traditional retailer, offering the expertise absent from typical online sales experiences. With three Central Ohio locations and a fourth already scheduled to open, shifting gears was essential to meeting the needs of customers in an entirely new way through curbside service and at-home pickup and delivery.

“We made the decision right from the outset to close our showrooms to the public out of an abundance of caution for the safety of our team and the community. It was a values-based decision for us,” revealed Stuart Hunter, founder and CEO of Roll Bicycle Company. “But that allowed us to quickly move to determining how to continue to best serve our team and our community while preserving our business.”

The closure of gyms coupled with the inherent social distancing of outdoor activities actually increased interest in cycling for fitness and riding for recreation. It was a surge that came the right time for Roll, which was already preparing for the beginning of their busy season.

“At the time, no one anticipated a boom of people wanting to get outside and exercise. People were still reeling from the implications of what was happening and there was a lot of concern about whether we’d actually have a business coming out of the other end of this,” he confessed. “So we launched a brand new web platform within a space of four days from start to finish where we took our entire inventory online.”

There was never a debate about whether bike shops were considered essential. Much like auto mechanics, selling and servicing bikes was a business that helped maintain transportation. But meeting customers at the door instead of inside and creating a pickup and delivery service from scratch were all unfamiliar terrain.

“Another challenge that was unanticipated was just how much strain the change would take on our team, just the speed of adapting so quickly. Everyone was working really hard, but we were also burning out really fast,” Hunter recalled. “So we decided to close our stores briefly and give everyone a paid break to just go home, ride a bike, and take a pause before we came back.”

Roll’s new Dublin store opened alongside existing locations in Bexley, Westerville, and Upper Arlington, but with new safety standards still in place. Though shortages have hit many retailers, regardless of industry, Roll’s evolution three years ago as a manufacturer of their own branded bicycles also helped smooth out supply chain disruptions of their signature product line.

“Like any small business, there was an incredible amount of anxiety about our ability to survive. I was wondering whether the past 15 years of my life were coming to a close. We are fortunate enough to be in a category that has high demand,” he noted. “But we fully recognize not all of our peers in the entrepreneurial community are in the same situation. I look around and see great people having a hard time right now, and I’ve been really pleased to see how the community has rallied around local businesses we hope will return and thrive again soon.” ▩

June 1, 2020

The Parlor

Originally published in the June 2020 issue of (614) Magazine

When The Parlor celebrated its first anniversary earlier this year, it came and went without much fanfare. After all, you can’t risk raising a ruckus over the concert venue equivalent of a speakeasy. Now, the quietly-promoted proof of concept may offer an unintended road map for the future of live music.

“We had the whole season booked, so when the situation quickly started progressing toward cancellations, I was calling the health department every day. Based on their advice, we stayed open until the restaurant ban hit,” explained the host of The Parlor, who prefers to maintain the same secrecy as his clandestine concert series. (Anyone who has received one of his cryptic messages or been to a show simply knows him as “The Man in the Black Hat”.) “We couldn’t quite tell what was happening or what was coming. Even though we’re not a restaurant, we decided to follow those protocols for the safety of our audience.”

For the uninitiated, The Parlor isn’t invitation only, but it is somewhat exclusive. Intrigued would-be attendees are vetted before they’re offered tickets to shows barely publicized beyond the close-knit community of recurring concert goers. Imagine the intimacy of a house show, but not knowing the address until an hour before the band takes the stage. That’s The Parlor. But it’s also not a clique. The audiences are as unassuming as they are anonymous, strangers in the same secret society who actually sign the stage to seal their pledge of silence.

From perennial favorites like The Floorwalkers, Mojoflo, and Willie Phoenix to notable locals like Josh Krajcik and Chris Jamison, The Parlor creates interaction often absent from the concert experience, and offers artists compensation from ticket sales more commensurate with their talent.

With restaurants reopening, but most live music events on hold, The Parlor is ready to parlay their unique niche, rescheduling events and forging new formats that still meet strict guidelines for social distancing. Stadium shows and lawn seats are still a long way off, but small and simple gets artists back on the stage in short order.

“We’ve been trying to get in touch with national acts who may have cancelled tours through Ohio and pair them with local artists in a house show format,” he revealed. “But there are also local artists who need gigs now. So we’ve been ramping up to do different types of experiences than we’ve done before, featuring pairings with local restaurants.”

Plenty of musicians are reinventing their relationship with fans, hosting Facebook concerts from home, hoping to make enough in online tips and selling a little merch to hold on until the industry figures out what’s next. But any degree of real recovery could be months away, maybe more. Arena shows have additional obstacles, leading some to worry whether they’ll return at all, or if the venues themselves long survive.

“I’ve been considering guarantees versus percentages of sales and how to structure those arrangements. But at the end of the day, I think there’s a great opportunity to continue to pay artists really well, just like we always have,” he opined. “Honestly, I hope promoters in town who currently can’t work with traditional venues reach out, because house concerts could really emerge right now as a way to make gigs happen.”

That’s the edge The Parlor has over typical venues. Now those smaller audiences seem safer and the larger cut of ticket sales sound even more appealing to performers. But that’s also why everyone from concert halls to the club circuit have been quietly conspiring to shut down house shows and their organizers for years — and why the man in the black hat is just fine remaining under the radar.

“I think the hardest part for me is the empathy I have for the artists. When the national unemployment rate was passing 15 percent, the unemployment rate for full-time performers was nearly 99 percent because there was no place to play,” he noted. “I’ve been staying in touch with them just to make sure they’re okay. Some have decided to retire, or take corporate jobs. Others are taking time off hoping things will go back to normal in a couple of months and are just trying to get by.”

One of the only entertainment venues prepared for a sudden comeback are drive-in movie theaters. Outdoor screens from coast to coast have seen a steady increase in interest, and with patrons parked in the confines of their cars, social distancing is in force by default. The Parlor’s latest venture launching this month hopes to tap into that same nostalgic experience.

“The Hidden Drive-In is the first departure from our established format, and will feature live concert performances and modern and classic films on a 30-foot display at an undisclosed location in Downtown Columbus”, he explained. “We want to create socially-distanced events our audience can still enjoy together.”

A launch and a fundraiser, the Hidden Drive-In is scheduled to premiere June 12 and 13, with two shows each evening. Tickets are priced for both bikes and cars, with the added bonus of fresh barbecue served on-site. It’s dinner and a movie unlike anywhere else. But it’s also the less conspicuous launch of an entirely new audio platform The Parlor plans to incorporate into future events, offering a fidelity unrivaled by typical FM transmitters or standard concert technology. True to form, the exact origins and specifications of the audio setup are also a tightly kept secret.

“We knew 80 tickets would cover our initial costs, and spread across four shows, it allows us to spread our audience out as well,” he revealed. “We also knew which space in Columbus we really wanted to present this first, and there are multiple prospects and partnerships where we could present in the future. We expect this to be a magical experience that will help us make decisions on where to host additional events beyond the Hidden Drive-In.” ▩

For details on upcoming performances, including the Hidden Drive-In, visit The Parlor on Facebook.

June 1, 2020

Sound of Silence

Originally published in the June 2020 issue of (614) Magazine

Columbus has always been a creative crossroads, an intersection of ideas. When Troy Stacy opened his unlikely convergence of a record shop, impromptu studio, and craft beer counter, it already seemed like too much to squeeze under one roof.

Yet in less than two years, the long-shuttered hardware store in Grandview has also become a credible concert venue for up-and-coming artists, added an expanded menu of musically-inspired paninis, and even published a book to parallel their famous pairings of classic albums with beers that best suit them. Call it foresight or fate, the inclusive name Craft & Vinyl seems more apropos with each new endeavor.

“The initial idea was to bring together vinyl collectors, music makers, and craft beer lovers, but we didn’t really anticipate bands knocking on the door and asking if they could play gigs here,” revealed Stacy. “The fact that someone would walk into our little space and want to bring their energy and creativity to our environment, I certainly invited it, but it took us a couple of months before we had the opportunity to build the stage, sound, and lighting they deserved.”

Emerging acts often struggle to book shows unless they know the right folks or have members connected to groups that are already established. The gap between garage gigs and even a basement bar can be daunting, especially for those focused exclusively on their own songs.

“It’s really challenging to get those first gigs, even more challenging if an artist or band is all about original music. That’s something that I love, music I’ve never heard before,” he explained. “There are a lot of great bands in our community who can bang out a cover and nail it. But I wanted to invite artists into this space and give them a platform to share music no one knows, an opportunity to engage audiences with something new.”

That enviable momentum came to a screeching halt in mid March, and like every small business, essential or otherwise, the labyrinth of government programs offered more dashed hopes than promised relief. Like most folks in the music scene, his passion was preceded by a less glamorous gig, in his case the insurance industry. So when Stacy started his business in 2018, his insights for finding the right coverage were formidable, and the fight now looming with his insurance company could impact small businesses across the country also trying to recover.

“We reached out to our insurer, Cincinnati Insurance, and our policy is in good standing. I have always paid my premiums,” Stacy stated, noting his coverage specifically includes losses incurred due to “prohibited access to the premises by civil authority”. “In fact days after they denied my claim, they sent me another premium notice. ‘Hey, don’t forget to pay your bill, dude.’ I felt betrayed.”

Point of fact, most commercial policies specifically exclude pandemics for a reason. More than a decade ago in the wake of the SARS epidemic, the industry lobbied Congress about the threat such losses could pose, crafting language to prevent claims during a crisis just like the one businesses face right now amid mandatory closures.

“My attorney said first of all, right off the riff, we know this is going to impact more than a hundred businesses. We anticipate it’s going to affect thousands nationally, and we filed it in federal court,” he explained. “If the case proceeds as a class action, Cincinnati Insurance will have to open up their books to the courts and disclose every single policy holder that has a policy like mine.”

Stacy is hardly alone in this fight. Even before seeking legal representation, he reviewed his policy’s fine print with former colleagues still in the insurance industry. The lack of exclusionary language seems to be an oversight, but a costly one that could serve as a legal precedent. Cincinnati Insurance Company covers numerous notable businesses in Ohio, but similar suits, raised mostly by restaurants, are also advancing in Louisiana and California. Wolfgang Puck is probably the most famous plaintiff so far, and even the White House has weighed in that if policies failed to exclude pandemics, then claims should be covered.

“The denial letter had things in it that I never even discussed or claimed. That’s when I knew they were putting me off, putting all claimants off, as they try to figure out what to do because they didn’t write their policies properly,” Stacy revealed. “They’re still out there taking money. I’m not sure what’s going to come of this, and I hope other businesses with policies like mine join the class action. At least now, Cincinnati Insurance knows my name, and I’m not alone.”

Legal maneuvering and loss of business aside, what bothers Stacy most is still the loss of community. Local bands aren’t the only beneficiaries of his small stage. Students from Capital University Conservatory of Music and Groove U present their capstone projects there, and School of Rock uses their space for recitals. He even offers studio time to students who wouldn’t be able to afford it otherwise. Craft & Vinyl is committed to inspiring the next generation of musicians, now entering an industry where the future remains very uncertain.

“We’ve built a Facebook following, but it’s never been about making money as much as keeping customers engaged. It helps promote bands, and new music, and events like PickTown Palooza or our partnership with PromoWest that don’t necessarily happen at Craft & Vinyl, but exist in our universe,” he noted. “It keeps us connected, but it’s not the same. I miss the bands on my stage, the conversations at the bar. I miss the music, but I miss the people most. We all do, and we can’t wait to see each other again.” ▩

For more on Craft & VinyI, and to reserve your copy of Pour and Play, visit craft-n-vinyl.com

May 1, 2020

Social Distance Cinema

Originally published in the May 2020 issue of (614) Magazine

Though there is plenty of pain to go around, no industry has been more fundamentally disrupted than movie theaters, perhaps permanently. Exactly how bad is it? Studios have all but halted production and box office reporting has been suspended. Instead of celebrating their 100-year anniversary, AMC Theatres, the largest chain in the world, is hurtling toward bankruptcy.

No one wants to get into a contest of who has it worse, but when your entire business model is based on hundreds of strangers sitting elbow-to-elbow, there’s just no way to stay open when most of the country has been ordered to stay home.

But Columbus seems to find new ways everyday to get creative in a crisis, and our independent theater community is no exception. Though there is no shortage of content available from an ever-expanding arena of streaming services, watching a story unfold on an enormous screen as part of an audience is as absent as the aroma of fresh, buttered popcorn. Even though we may be a long way from anything approaching what once was, local theaters are finding innovative alternatives to stay connected to their loyal patrons, even if it sometimes feels like we’ve all been cast in a disaster movie.

“The virtual screening room isn’t new. We’ve been offering an on-demand channel as a way for people to see films they may have missed. Curating films supports our mission and also enhances our community,” explained Chris Hamel, president of the Gateway Film Center. “So when we were forced to suspend our normal programming, we just ramped up these opportunities and added our virtual screen.”

Independent theaters, specifically those that specialize in so-called arthouse features, have always been masters of improvisation without the deep budgets or blockbuster revenues of their mainstream counterparts. Now that notable nimbleness has become an appreciable asset. “Conversations from the Center” was another initiative that required rapid reinvention. The discussion of influential films and industry insights also moved online.

”I think we exceeded our expectations to some degree and we’ve got really great opportunities for the audience to engage moving forward,” Hamel revealed. “It doesn’t replace the cinema experience completely, but it is a nice way for us to continue to engage with our audience.”

For about the price of a typical ticket, you can buy a virtual one through their website, with a comparable percentage of proceeds going back to the theater. The process is a little different depending on the film and the distributor, but is very similar to renting a movie to stream at home with a limited viewing window. Selections aren’t exhaustive, but thoughtfully chosen as always. Features so far have included The Whistlers, a Romanian heist film with more than a hint of the Coen Brothers to the overdue backstory of the breakup of The Band, Once Were Brothers, a fitting bookend to Martin Scorcese’s The Last Waltz. If escape is more your speed, they’ve even offered a fascinating documentary on fungi and a critically-acclaimed collection of cat videos. There really is something for everyone.

“The indie film market was starting to pick back up. In January, we still had Parasite and 1917 and a lot of those films were still very strong and were able to carry through to the Oscars. Our virtual screenings are all films we would have shown anyway,” noted Jeremy Henthorn, theatre director at Drexel Theatre. “Our sci-fi marathon and series are postponed, not cancelled. If there is a bright side to all of this, presuming everyone is able to open by July or August, there will be a lot more options and choices to see later in the year. It’s always good to have something new for audiences.

While still considering virtual screenings, Studio 35 Cinema & Drafthouse recently launched their in-house kitchen, Fibonacci’s Pizzeria, and now serves craft pies, subs, and salads to-go. Both the Clintonville theater and their sister screen, Grandview Theater & Drafthouse, are filling growlers with your favorite craft beer, and will gladly pour some M&Ms over your tub of popcorn. Strand Theatre in Delaware is likewise offering drive-by concessions, virtual screenings, and their projectionist is even posting weekly film reviews and recommendations to keep patrons connected. The South Drive-In is selling discounted gift cards and may be among the first local theaters to reopen. After all, drive-ins are the original social distance cinema.

Motion pictures since their start have always been an art of collective experience. Though there are now a near infinite number of options available online and easy to stream, sitting on your couch still doesn’t replace the immersive intent, nor is that the expectation. But buying virtual tickets, a couple of tubs of popcorn, the occasional pizza or jug of beer, and a few gift cards will hopefully ensure your favorite Hollywood haunt is still around when we can once again gather in in the dark and become part of a shared story. ▩

For more on virtual screenings and other ways you can support your local theaters, please visit their websites and check social media, as details are subject to change.

March 15, 2020

Family Ties

Originally published in the Spring 2020 issue of Stock & Barrel

In 1929, the iconic, art deco skyscraper we now know as LeVeque Tower was more than just a monument of modern engineering. It was a landmark visible up to 20 miles away in the early days of passenger aviation, and why Transcontinental Air Transport chose Columbus as its new Midwest crossroads. Promising travel from New York to Los Angeles in 48 hours through a network of trains and planes, aircraft emblazoned with the “TAT” logo flew low over “Flytown”, a working class community of immigrants who figuratively and literally lived in the shadow of the latest, lavish addition to the city skyline.

Italian, Greek, and Lebanese neighbors mingled among the Irish who preceded them, as well as African Americans fleeing the Deep South. Though the community is all but forgotten, ultimately leveled by urban planners in the name of progress, a different kind of monument remains — because this was also the year that Pete and Philomena Corrova opened TAT Ristorante Di Famiglia. Long since relocated to the corner of James and Livingston where Bexley and Whitehall meet, it’s still thriving nearly a century later.

“My father saw the planes overhead with TAT on the side, so that’s what he decided to name his restaurant. About ten years ago I started telling everybody it means ‘Take Any Table’,” said Jimmy Corrova, whose parents’ original restaurant has become part of local culinary folklore. “My father was the first to bring pizza to Columbus. In the old country, you’d take leftover dough, stretch it, squeeze a little tomato on it, add some basil, maybe anchovy, and that was it. Now, you can put anything on a pizza.”

Family restaurants rarely fail so much as fade away. Not so with the Corrovas. Jimmy, his wife Dolores, their children and grandchildren are all part of the TAT legacy. Jimmy still insists on seasoning the sauces himself, and Dolores arrives hours before the doors open every day. Daughters Marianne and Michelle run the front and back of the house, respectively. They know their regulars by name, and often their orders before they’re seated. It’s a passion and consistency that can’t be bought, only handed down from one generation to the next.

The Corrova influence spread throughout Central Ohio, from the former Antone’s in Worthington to Gatto’s in Clintonville, both started by extended family members. Even the Florentine in Franklinton was started by cousins. Jimmy revealed he nearly bought the business back in 2016 when it closed, lamenting the loss of the west side landmark.

“I’ll never knock another restaurant. Everyone has their own tastes, but we prefer to do things the way we always have,” Jimmy explained. “All of our ravioli and spaghetti are homemade. We still seal the edges with a fork and cut our own spaghetti. We roll every meatball by hand.”

The menu is exhaustive and inclusive, and far more than just the classics. From piccata to polenta, salmon to scallops, there are even two kinds of lasagna. The first is exactly what you would expect—expertly executed. But there’s also a “special lasagna” with a recipe modified due to rationing during WWII that proved so popular, they never stopped serving it. The only thing you’ll find that hasn’t been on the menu since before fenders had flares are several gluten-free options, evidence that TAT isn’t opposed to change, but hasn’t lost touch with why it’s still around either. Perhaps the only other item that may seem out of place is their famous “poor boy”. If you want the story behind the signature sandwich, no one tells it better than the Sicilian who invented it, and even has the trademark to prove it.

“When I was in high school, there were a bunch of us Italians and a couple of Irish boys who all sat at the same table for lunch. But we got tired of the sloppy joes and hot dogs they served,” Jimmy recalled. “So Eddie Carfagna brought real deli meat from his family’s grocery, I brought the Italian bread, and we all made sandwiches. We were all poor, so we called it a “poor boy”. After I graduated, we added them to the menu and sold them for 50 cents. We’d sell them by the dozens. We had them on special for our 90th Anniversary last year and sold 2,000 in a weekend.”

Not to be confused with its creole cousin the po’ boy, of which he was unaware at the time, Jimmy had the foresight to trademark the name “poor boy” and its constituent ingredients. They’re still a big seller, and were among the earliest foray into TAT’s brisk takeout business. But success breeds imitators, including a guy who soon started shipping frozen sandwiches made from cheaper cuts of meat to local grocery chains under the same name. Jimmy sent him a cease and desist, and ultimately sued him for $100k.

“Word got out about the lawsuit, and I was at Romeo Siri’s in Grandview when I was asked outside and told to drop the case because it had been fixed,” Jimmy laughed. “I sued him anyway and I won.” The judge awarded Jimmy $96,000, but it took him six years to collect — not counting his own payoffs to “fix” the case previously fixed against him. “I only ended up with $10k. But that’s more than I had, and it’s still my sandwich.”

Everything about TAT is authentic and on-brand. A step inside is a step back in time, from the service to the soundtrack. Loyal staff measure their tenure in decades, and songs from the ‘50s fill the family-style dining room that echoes a bygone era. Jimmy dresses the part of dapper don as though casual Friday was a conspiracy — and if he shakes your hand once, he’ll likely remember your face for the rest of his days.

The family quips they may need to open a drive-thru, noting a car’s recent close encounter with their men’s room wall. But they’re in no hurry to change anything, and that’s probably what customers appreciate most. Their salad dressings are so beloved, they don’t just sell them by the bottle, but ship them all over the country. One faithful patron was so concerned about missing her favorite meals while out of town for several weeks, TAT actually prepared her regular order in advance and froze enough so she could take them with her. When she passed away, they dedicated the booth where she sat and hung her picture next to it. Customers eventually become part of the Corrova family.

There may be no more fitting metaphor for TAT’s longevity than the giant, commercial mixer they still in use in the back of the kitchen. Jimmy bought it second hand for $50 from a local bakery decades ago, but it turned out to be so heavy he needed a tow truck to move it. Then the owner didn’t have the heart to charge him for it, so he ended up getting it free. They’re still using today, but Jimmy honestly didn’t know how old it really was until our interview. Upon closer inspection, we found a weathered brass plaque that read, “Century Machine Company, Cincinnati, Ohio, August 22, 1922”.

The irony did not escape Jimmy Corrova. “If you build it right, it will probably last forever.” ▩

TAT Ristorante Di Famiglia is located at 1210 S James Road. For more on their menu and history, visit tatitalianrestaurantcolumbus.com