2B — Thursday, March 12, 2015
the b-side
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

While the current owner made

the room what it is today, the Blind
Pig has always been wildly success-
ful. Previous owners sold the Pig
not out of financial concern, but out
of diverging aspirations. The first
was big into espresso machines
and left Ann Arbor to pursue that
business; the next started Blind
Pig Records with recording artists
who were booked at the time. Soon
after, that venture moved to San
Francisco, allowing Betty to pur-
chase the Pig for Roy.

“If you talk to anyone who knew

the Pig back in the day when it was
a blues bar, everyone will say it was
fucking packed every night. This
was where you bought all your
coke, so that didn’t hurt. It wasn’t
like the Pig was ever not profitable,
it was just that the owners were off
to different shit and they wanted
to sell. The Pig has always been
blessed like that,” Berry said.

The Pig has had continuous suc-

cess over the past 40-plus years,
though that doesn’t mean it hasn’t
faced a few challenges. Berry
recounts the drop in sales fol-
lowing September 2001. He said
if a club was doing live bands and
guaranteeing funds to bring them
in and business was cut in half due
to public fear, it ran a serious risk of
going out of business. Quick on his
feet, he booked solely local bands
for the remainder of the 2001-2002
academic year.

“For the first time we saw

something affect the bar busi-
ness because people drink when
they’re up and they drink when

they’re down, so we are recession
proof. So when that happened and
people were afraid to go out, all of
our numbers were just cut in half,”
Berry said. “The rest of that school
year there was just a pittance of
tours. People were like, ‘What the
fuck, man? Put some real fuck-
ing shows in there.’ I had to listen
to that for a while. Then we got to
summer …” He mimes pushing a
throttle forward, “and we are so
badass and we were just back.”

Aside
from
the
post-9/11

slump, Berry chalks up the Pig’s
financial stability to owner Betty
Goffett. At age 87, she is frugal-
minded and does not live beyond
her means. Her financial outlook
works to keep the Blind Pig ral-
lying through tough economic
times.

“Honestly, she does not fuck

around. When a beer cooler goes
down, she replaces it. She doesn’t
play with money. It’s really bor-
ing actually, but it’s through her
leadership that we haven’t strug-
gled.”

Frugality aside, the Pig is not

afraid to spend for what it needs.
By now we are done at the post
office, and are heading back to
the 8 Ball. Berry begins telling
one of his favorite stories about
Betty. Last month, New York DJ
and producer Kap Slap head-
lined the Blind Pig, but they did
not have turntables compatible
with Kap Slap’s USB hub. Two
hours before show time the staff
was looking for CDJ 2000s, the
newest,
top-of-the-line
turn-

tables, but no one had them
because they’re so expensive.
Finally a friend of Berry called
and said Guitar Center in Canton
had them and you could return
products the next day. Without
the 2000s, the show would have
to be cancelled and money would
have been returned to over 200
ticketholders.

“Without
missing
a
beat

(Betty) was like, ‘OK, cool. Let’s
go.’ She calls ahead and has them
stay open for her to make this
purchase. She bought $7,500
turntables to return them once
their check cleared, so they

didn’t think we were playing
them,” Berry said. “There’s no
owner like her. That’s Betty.
She’s progressive and passion-
ate about groups, people and the
quality of the experience.”

That experience starts with

the shows’ lineups. Berry brings
in a mix of local talent and
national tours to Ann Arbor, and
between the wealth of local tal-
ents and the national recognition

of The Blind Pig as one of the
best college-town clubs. Local
bands are begging for shows, and
agents send national acts to the
Pig as a proving ground.

“Pound for pound, in terms of

sound quality, experience of the
patron and consistency of what’s
happening there, we are often
told we are one of the best (clubs)
for our little size,” Berry said.
“The reality is in the Detroit
market we are the smallest of the
clubs we compete with. We are
competing with The Crofoot, St.
Andrews and the Magic Stick.
Every one of these rooms is big-
ger than us, so our advantage is
that we are the college town.”

Musicians come to Ann Arbor to

tap into the college-student demo-
graphic. The booking process dif-
fers slightly between local bands

and national tours. Local bands
either e-mail the Pig looking to play
a lineup, or Berry is aware of a band
through word of mouth and looks
into them before offering them a
spot. They start on a Wednesday or
Thursday, and once they get a fol-
lowing they’ll move to a weekend.

For national acts, agents offer a

night to Berry, and, if available, he
gives them first hold, meaning that
if no one is currently booked that

night, they get first opportunity. He
then sends in an offer, most times
a flat rate plus a percentage if prof-
its hit a certain mark. Agents may
accept immediately or negotiate
for more. After the show is booked,
announced and on-sale production
is taken over by the staff, the gen-
eral manager or manager on duty
pays the band, and Berry is already
looking for the next show.

“It’s really smooth. Every club

has the same procedure, but
every club has its own tweak on
it. The Magic Stick’s process has
far many more people involved
in it than we do, but that has to
do with their size,” Berry said.
“Coming from The Blind Pig
and seeing that, it gives a nice
perspective on how well the Pig
is actually doing what they’re
doing.”

While the playing field is

somewhat leveled by the Pig’s
status as a college-town club,
they also have money on their
side due to the affluence of the
Michigan student body and Ann
Arbor residents, so they are able
to spend a lot to bring in acts the
community wants to see.

Berry recounted how they

began to shell out for big shows.
Lee Berry, then-Blind Pig talent
buyer who is now chief devel-
opment officer at the Michigan
Theater, and then-newly hired
Jason Berry began hosting dance
nights featuring international
DJs. Back in 1998-99, flying DJs
in from Europe was a revolution-
ary idea. He recounts that a club
on Main Street would play ghet-
totech every Wednesday, but
only feature Ann Arbor DJs.

“We were like, ‘Fuck that,’” he

said. “We spent money, but it was
because Ann Arbor. We could do
that and charge 25 bucks to get
in, which would have been ludi-
crous, but because of the affluent
student body, we could just go for
it. And now it’s the norm. People
would be surprised if that wasn’t
happening now.

“The Pig is fucking great. As a

talent buyer I can just sit there. It’s
like painting.” He motions mov-
ing a paintbrush across a canvas.
“The club is so solid, and it has a
magnificent owner who rolls with
the punches and understands the
nature of the live music industry.”

The Blind Pig’s backlog of

shows is impressive. Jason Berry
has brought in John Mayer, The
White Stripes and Wiz Khalifa’s
first show in Michigan. Prior to
that, Lee Berry brought in Pearl
Jam, Smashing Pumpkins, Dave
Matthews Band and Nirvana, who
famously stated the Blind Pig as
their favorite venue to play in an
MTV interview.

Nirvana’s legendary show took

place in 1990 on its Bleach Tour.
The tour was receiving lackluster
response until the Monday before
they were set to play; Soundgar-
den
frontman,
Chris
Cornell,

told a sold-out Blind Pig crowd to
come back next week for Nirvana.

Between that shoutout and some
momentum built from opening for
Tap and Screaming Trees, Nirvana
took the stage to a sold-out crowd
instead of the expected half-empty
venue.

After the show, Nirvana didn’t

have a place to stay, so the band
crashed the Prism Productions
offices on Fourth Street. Lee
Berry walked into his office the
next morning only to step over
Krist Novoselic’s legs and see Kurt
Cobain passed out on his sofa and
in his plush office chair.

“I booked a bunch of great shit

for my little 17-year tenure, but Lee
booked all that famous shit,” Berry
said. “But he’s got Dave Matthews
and Godsmack. He is the Don
Dada.” (Urban Dictionary: “A com-
bination of Don and Dada. Meaning
the top pimp, the biggest player and
even one step above mack daddy.”)
“He booked everything the Pig is
really famous for, including every
damn time Nirvana played. He is
the man.”

Step one: buy your husband

a blues club. Step two: host all
types of bands. Step three: profit.
It was the perfect storm that has
led to the local goldmine called
The Blind Pig. It feeds off the
vibrancy of Ann Arbor and the
affluence of its inhabitants to put
on legendary music shows.

“The point of it all is to sell

beer, and we are just very good
at selling it the way we sell it.
It could be simpler, but that’s
what the 8 Ball is for,” he said.
“That’s just a beer and shot bar
and the Pig is some complicated
bells and whistles to sell a glass
of beer. It all just works really
well.”

VIRGINIA LOZANO/Daily

The Blind Pig caters to the college student demographic.

BLIND PIG
From Page 1B

Abraham.In.Motion
dances social justice

By GILLIAN JAKAB

Daily Arts Writer

What does it mean to dance

social justice? This question
occupied the hour-and-a-half
“night
school”
session
this

past Monday led by Prof. Clare
Croft with choreographer Kyle
Abraham as part of Abraham.
In.Motion’s weeklong residency
in Ann Arbor, culminating in its
University Musical Society debut
of The Watershed on Friday and
When the Wolves Came In on
Saturday.

Abraham
doesn’t
dance

around the issues of race and
identity that he has set out to
explore with these works, but
rather charts a collision course
with them in multi-media form.
With the layers of choreography,
music, visual projections and
theatrical elements of drag, the
mind and body are roused into
perpetual motion as Abraham
propels us through the history of
civil rights to confront our con-
temporary social climate.

Abraham visited Ann Arbor

last spring to do some workshops
including a “You Can Dance”
community
program
at
the

YMCA, but this is the first time
we get to see Abraham.In.Motion
perform. The Pittsburgh-born
choreographer has been praised
for his refreshing and eclectic
post-modern style — a blend of
his immersion in hip-hop and
rave cultures and his classical
training in music, visual art and
dance. After studying modern
dance
at
SUNY
Purchase

and
NYU
Tisch,
Abraham

began dancing professionally
and founded his company in
2006. The dance world has
certainly noticed his talent;
Abraham has been invited to
work
with
long-established

choreographers such as David
Dorfman and Bill T. Jones, and
was commissioned to create a
piece for Alvin Ailey American
Dance in 2012. Recognition and
funding is essential to power
a choreographer’s work and
a MacArthur Fellowship in

2013 and residency with New
York Live Arts from 2012-2014,
among
other
awards,
have

been key planks in Abraham’s
launching pad.

Abraham comes to UMS with

nine dancers from his company.
One of them, Matthew Baker, is
a native of Ann Arbor who went
to Western Michigan University
and grew up seeing shows at the
Power Center and Hill Auditori-
um. Baker remembers being awed
as a 13 year-old dance student see-
ing Baryshnikov perform solos on
the stage of the Power Center. The
realization that he will take the
same stage this weekend is deeply
meaningful to Baker.

“UMS, and the Power Center

and all that has been a part of my
life and my family’s life — it’ll be
great to go back,” Baker said. “The
programming is always really
wonderful. I’m excited that our
company is going to become part
of that.”

This
weekend,
Abraham.

In.Motion is performing the two
pieces created over Abraham’s
tenure as resident artist with New
York Live Arts, both of which pre-
miered in September 2014. The
pieces correspond to the 100th
anniversary of the Emancipation
Proclamation and the 20th anni-
versary of the end of Apartheid
in South Africa. Abraham drew
inspiration from the 1960 Max

Roach album We Insist! which,
in Saturday’s program, When the
Wolves Came In, is reinterpreted
by the Robert Glasper Trio. Fri-
day’s program, The Watershed,
is an evening-length piece that
mixes imagery from the Emanci-
pation Proclamation period, the
American civil rights movement in
the 1960s and contemporary race
relations.

“(The Watershed is) drawing

some then-and-now comparisons
and … (puts) questions out in the
air and in people’s minds,” Baker
said. “It’s really interesting the
way that he uses dance and theat-
rical elements to do that — to start
a conversation.”

This was a collaborative pro-

cess for Abraham, working with
Glasper on musical interpreta-
tion of the Max Roach album
and visual artist Glenn Ligon to
curate film projections and over-
all set design to complement the
live art. Not only was the process
collaborative across artistic dis-
ciplines, but the choreography
itself emerged from conversations
with, and contributions from, the
dancers. Baker reflected on the
ways in which race is represented
and performed in the pieces:

“A lot of the presentations of

race, the race of a certain dancer
and the relationships (among
them) I think sometimes are very
intentional to draw attention to

TRAILER REVIEW

If Wes Anderson had a

twin brother it would be Noah
Baumbach. Many of Baumbach’s
films
–

especially
“The
Squid

and
the

Whale”
and

“Frances
Ha” – exude
the
same

cleverness,
tactfulness
and cinematic poise. In fact,
Baumbach and Anderson have
co-written two movies together,
and have undoubtedly attended
many of the same dinner parties
(which
is
more
important

anyway). They are storytellers of
the same stylistic vein: singular,
insightful,
memorable.
With

“While We’re Young,” however,
Baumbach seems to be taking
a more personal turn, one that
promises to grapple with the
struggles and challenges of aging
in a world that’s increasingly
dependent on young people.

Ben Stiller (“Night at the

Museum”) and Naomi Watts
(“Birdman”) star as a married
middle-aged couple who become
enthralled with the lifestyle
and energy of a younger couple
they counter. Together the two

couples embark on a series of
adventures, including a yoga-like
class in which each participant
consumes a mysterious drink,
hallucinates and vomits their
“demons” out from their system.
If you’ve ever wanted to see Ben
Stiller in a silly hipster context,
this is your chance.

In addition to the strange and

somewhat whimsical situations
the couples volunteer themselves
for, a broader and more serious
commentary underlies the film.
“While We’re Young” is about the
cultural age gap and the strains
it puts on intergenerational
communication. It’s evident that,
although each couple admires
the other for certain qualities or

habits, they all find fault in their
relationships. In this way, the
film is about learning to accept
these marital faults instead of
trying to change or ignore them.
The title obviously implies a
“well, it’s too late” sentiment,
but it does nothing in the way
of condescending to such an
attitude. This will be a smart,
well-written comedy about the
pains and pleasures of age, and
about the ways in which we all
can come to fall in love with
personal flaws.

Plus, James Murphy of LCD

Soundsystem is orchestrating
the film’s music. Need there be
more reason to go and see it?

-BRIAN BURLAGE

A24

CONCERT REVIEW

UMS

That’s not how you spell YMCA.

a certain scene or movement, but
I think a lot of the time they’re
kind of up in the air to allow (an)
audience
(member’s)
personal

backgrounds or what (he or she) is
interpreting in the piece to inform
what they’re seeing,” Baker said.
“I also think a lot of stuff is made
initially qualitatively based on the
blending of two dancer’s different
styles, and sometimes race or iden-
tity or meaning fit in, or layer in,
where it might make sense, or not
make sense, or draw an interesting
parallel. I think sometimes those
things are crafted and sometimes
they come up organically just as
the movement does.”

The workshops and events sur-

rounding the performances — the
night school sessions, brunch
download and post-show Q&As
following this weekend’s perfor-
mances — are of equal importance
and serve as a forum to digest the
heavy material.

“It’s really interesting to hear

back from the communities and
I think it’s important to Kyle, and

I’ve seen a number of times, to let
the communities hear each other,”
Baker said. “I’ve actually sat in
many of the small conversations
where one person will (say) ‘the
dance is so abstract’ and I think a
lot of times people don’t know how
to watch it, so when they’re forced
to talk about it they come up with
all these different perspectives
and I think that revealing some-
thing about themselves helps them
learn something about their com-
munities and each other and how
to change or develop.”

Although not originally con-

ceived as a response to the recent
tensions in race relations, The
Watershed and When the Wolves
Came In could not be more timely
in the wake of the recent awak-
enings of the nation’s awareness
around the killings of Michael
Brown and Eric Garner last year.

“I think the pieces and the work

(as a whole) raise a lot of questions
for people, and starting a conversa-
tion can be a catalyst for change or
for organizing … But I also think

art and artists have a way of com-
municating certain things about
the times that we live in because
they are making art in that time.
I think that Kyle’s voice has devel-
oped and is really being heard
right now — people are taking note
and heeding interest because he
has a lot to say, and he says it in a
really interesting way through
movement,” Baker said.

Kyle Abraham has been called

“the man of the moment” and
“darling of the dance world” by
Dance Magazine He is a rising
star in the dance and performance
world — one to watch in the years
to come. Not only can we start by
watching him this weekend at the
Power Center, but we can engage
in his conversation.

“As dance works,” Abraham

writes in his Director’s Note, “The
Watershed and its companion
piece, When the Wolves Came In
were created to live in a skin well
aware of the cyclical hardships of
our history and the very present
fear of an unknowable future.”

A-

While
We’re
Young

A24

“(The Pig) was

where you

bought all your

coke.”

It feeds off
Ann Arbor’s
vibrancy and

affluence.