Behind “Behind the Porchlight”
In my work with Porchlight, I’ve had the pleasure of speaking to hosts around the country for this blog series. Mostly we talk about their hosting experience: the initial planning, their home and setup, interactions with the artists, and what they learned from the night. While each interview is unique, common threads spool them together. Of these, three are constant: a rooted love for God, a commitment to serve others, and the belief that music is an ordained catalyst for both.
Their stories have served to strengthen my faith. In these polarizing and isolating times, it’s life-giving to hear how others are welcoming the stranger and feeding the hungry (both physically and creatively) with the first fruits of what they have: their homes, kitchens, friend groups, sound equipment, stages, and most valuably—their vulnerability and time. They offer whatever they have, as they are.
But like all experiences, it’s one thing to learn about it and another to do it yourself. Watching Rick Steves’ tour of Rome just isn’t the same as standing in the front of the Trevi fountain.
The Brothers McClurg
My housemates Hannah, Katy, and I hosted our first Porchlight show, a Christmas carol singalong, last December. We welcomed The Brothers McClurg, an incredible folk band from nearby Buffalo, New York and somehow managed to cram thirty people into our small city apartment. After tacos (it was a Tuesday, after all), the Brothers weaved carols and original songs into their set, including a Rich Mullins cover that wrecked me.
Their performance came to a close with a candlelit chorus of ‘O Holy Night’, the final chords of which found not a dry eye in the room. We host gatherings in our home weekly, but that night was special. We were hooked on house concerts.
Opening your home to strangers and friends alike is a vulnerable thing. But the togetherness it cultivates is sweet and true. New local connections were made and familiar ones strengthened. We even fit in an impromptu jam session as the evening came to a close.
On a cold December evening, The Brothers McClurg filled our small city apartment with holiday melodies, tight harmonies, and lots of Christmas spirit. Pork carnitas were also present.
Fitting thirty people into a small apartment is a challenge, but a flight of stairs can easily turn into stadium-like seating. Maybe.
Then Porchlight offered to power a tour for my band The Local Hang-Ups. Having spoken to hosts, and hosted ourselves, we had to see how the other half lived. We were in.
The Local Hang-Ups
Katy and I started our duo at probably the worst possible time to start a band: March 2020.
When you’re a new band, the first things you want to do are write songs and play them for other people. We had plenty of the former but scant opportunities for the latter. While the height of the pandemic provided ample space to collaborate, concert booking was virtually nonexistent, and those first few shows are vital for any young band. To remedy this, we turned to the usual live streaming options but found virtual performances predictably lacking. Nothing can replace the presence of listeners, their company, conversation, and faces.
The Local Hang-Ups are Abbey Sitterley (left) and Katy Martin (right): an ‘oldies indie’ duo from Rochester, NY.
So as we packed our bags and planned our trip, we decided to dub our journey #FaceToFaceTour2022. Now that the pandemic has waned, we play regularly here in upstate New York. But the prospect of meeting new faces and getting to share our music with unfamiliar listeners was a golden opportunity. More than anything, we wanted to create occasions for humble connection amid ever-widening social chasms.
First Stop: Cheverly, MD
Our first show took us just outside of Washington D.C., to the home of Austin Smith and family. As we set up our equipment, I got happily lost perusing their bookshelves— a habit I maintained at every home we visited.
We had time to chat with the Smiths and their guests (some of whom drove the beltway for two hours to catch the show) around our performance and found some real kindred spirits in the room. Some told us they would be praying for us as we traveled to the next stop. They followed up with us through encouraging emails. And Austin makes one heckuva cocktail.
The Smiths and The Local Hang-Ups.
It was fascinating to see so many of the same books on our hosts’ bookshelves. Shared copies included The Gospel Comes with a House Key by Rosaria Butterfield and assorted works by C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, and Wendell Berry.
Second Stop: Raleigh, NC
The next day, we headed to Raleigh. Snagged by a long traffic jam outside of Richmond and a four-hour drive on top, we pulled into the Breges home around 4:30 pm more than a little tired. But the cobwebs departed as Cary Brege and her sons met us in the driveway, offering to help us bring our gear inside.
Like Austin Smith, I had also interviewed Cary for the Behind the Porchlight series. Havenwood, the name they’ve given their home, has been host to a few acts so far. Artists that have graced the stage include Jess Ray, Taylor Leonhardt, and Gabrielle Grace. The Breges don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. Our tour coincided with Cary’s birthday so we were honored to perform in celebration, closing our set with The Monkees’ classic “Daydream Believer” upon request. For dinner: barbecue and birthday cake, a heavenly combo.
The Local Hang-Ups at Havenwood.
After the show, Katy had a blast getting our mascot, a replica rotary phone, to work with Jason and the boys. And then came the ping pong game. A Havenwood tradition, the Breges turn their kitchen table into a ping pong arena after each show, challenging the artists to an epic tournament soundtracked by the best 90s sports jams. We put up a good fight (Okay, Katy did —I’m no competition) but were no match for the Breges. These folks know their ping pong.
Commonality
Cary and I happen to have lots of books and ideas in common, so we stayed up pretty late talking. Though the opportunity to share our songs was the central point of the tour, the conversations Katy and I had with hosts and their guests really took the cake.
To see the work of God in your own life, your church, and your community is a strong testament to sovereignty and grace. But to hear how He is moving in another family, another neighborhood, another state, deepens and widens your wonder. Like Elijah learning about the 7,000 others God has kept for himself in Israel (1 Kings 19), it’s both humbling and encouraging to know we all belong to Christ’s story and are united in Him, no longer strangers (Eph. 2:19).
Next up: Gastonia, NC.
Our tour provided a great opportunity to see family, too, and I was looking forward to reuniting with my cousins, the Moreys. We stayed with them for this leg of the trip. After a brief rest at their place, we headed to the home of Joel and Amanda Peckman.
The Peckmans are my kind of people.
Hospitality can be a daunting concept at first. This is often because we confuse it with entertaining. In her book on hospitality, Rosaria Butterfield writes,
“Entertainment is about impressing people and keeping them at arm’s length. Hospitality is about opening up your heart and your home, just as you are.”
The Peckmans had rearranged their living room into the perfect house show set up, yet not a hint of pretension or hesitancy could be found in their approach. They welcomed us into their home as if we were always meant to visit. Their authenticity, and the love they have for the community that house concerts can build, anchored the evening.
The Local Hang-Ups at the Peckmans
Crowd participation is encouraged at Local Hang-Ups shows.
Wine, cheese, and cinnamon buns were in abundance, and the candle-lit room brought us all closer together. Katy and I were especially blessed to hear an extra harmony or two from the audience during some familiar covers we played, making the night even more special. That’s the thing about house shows. Each one is a unique experience. You never get the same night twice.
Last Stop: Dayton, TN
Our last stop took us to Dayton, TN, and the legendary local eatery Screen Door. Massey and the crew at Screen Door were extremely kind to host us on their day off. So while the kitchen was closed, the company and peanut butter pie were in spades.
The building, an old schoolhouse built in the early 1900s, boasts a great dining area that turns easily into a stage. Around forty people attended— an astounding number of folks willing to see an unknown band from upstate New York (though we did have some former Rochester natives in the house)! Hearty thanks to the Stout family for creating such a buzz.
The door to Screen Door in Dayton, TN.
Bringing It Home
On Sixteenth Model Rd. off TN-269 West, a church sign spelled out the following phrase in vinyl letters: “Give God what is right not what is left.” As I quickly transcribed it into my phone notes, another habit I picked up on our trip, I thought this summarized the heart of hospitality well.
Both hosts and artists likely have tiring day jobs, families to feed, dry tanks of gas, and busy schedules. In my experience as both host and the hosted, what inevitably gets brought to the table are the first fruits. Not out of a dry sense of duty or obligation, but from the joy of knowing we were created for this kind of thing. Whether we open our homes or enter others’, we have the privilege of giving God more than we have left. He will supply everything we need.
Seeing things from both sides of the Porchlight network has only deepened my conviction that house concerts are a vital way to forge relationships, support musicians, and make a difference in your community. In this very weary world, we long for the Good, the True, and the Beautiful to show up in our lives—a yearning that is itself good, true, and beautiful.
The temptation to grow more estranged from each other continues to heighten. Communities such as the Porchlight network are like lighthouses along the coast, helping us go from strength to strength (Psalm 84). Whether you host a house concert or play one, you’re participating in a radical act of imagination, savoring and ushering in what Robert Farr Capon calls “the glimpsed city [the earth] longs to become.”