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.