Nova Ahead 19
It’s mid-March and I am on the Atlantic coast, already sunburned; warm weather sneaks up on you, and it’s hard to turn away from the sun. I think we’re coming up on a year that I’ve been writing these weekly essays, regularly working on building this bridge between us. That is ultimately what we hope Nova Arts will become and remain: a series of paths connecting you with a world of art, music, and ideas, available whenever you may want. It’s tricky to do something like this as a business, because as you may already know, championing and presenting potentially unknown, little known, or even strange music is not a particularly lucrative practice. Furthermore, prioritizing diversity (in everything from artist to genre to medium) over profit is usually not on the agenda of people wanting to make money. Case in point, The Thing in the Spring, which is an annual celebration of music and art normally occurring in Peterborough, and a labor of love of mine, has never made money. None of the people that put it together have ever taken a dime, and when you get right down to it, it has lost money every year, only covering its cost through the generosity of donors and underwriters. The fact that there is rarely money in this work means that it is as hard to find opportunities for audiences to be exposed to these new ideas as it is for the artists to find chances to perform. These connections, as well as having a place to present them, have an immense value, and the more that I have put on shows and engineered these kinds of opportunities, the more evident that has become. An important part of the growth and sustainability of a space like Nova is to be able to communicate and educate folks about that value, and to bring in as many partners and participants as possible so that each person can take ownership of that stage, and it can truly become the community resource it was envisioned as.
Playing basement shows and diy venues for the past twenty years has really helped me to redefine what success is. Most people, when they start playing music or making art, dream of connecting with an audience on a grand scale, aka “making it.” There is an unimaginable gap between playing a show to your friends and being on MTV, it just seems like at some point, that jump must be made in order to realize the indefinable dream of success in expression. Of course on one hand, expressing something is merely releasing something from inside yourself to outside of yourself, so once that has been done, the process is complete; a feeling or idea is transmitted beyond you. But does it really exist until it hits another person? That’s more of a philosophical question, though for my part, I would say it isn’t enough until it gets to someone else. The world is a loud, scary place, and if you can make something that cuts through the noise of six billion people and makes a single person stop to listen or consider, that is a substantial validation. Nova needs to be a place where ten people in the space is a success, because it really is. Ten people listening is more powerful to me than a packed club of people talking and drinking. To be clear though, the packed club is as much a part of the community as the more modest turnout of listeners, and of course is successful in other ways. Also some groups would revel in that kind of vibe; my goal is to equate these two ends of the spectrum and to say that we should all be working toward this redefinition of success. If we don’t, then only something popular will survive, and how can something unheard, new, uncultivated, challenging, or weird ever have a chance? What fun is art if you always know what is going to happen next? We have gotten to the point as a society where it is possible for us to fully control our intake of new ideas; I read in the Times recently that songs have gotten shorter as a reflection of folks’ diminished attention spans. Now, I love a short song, but I think it’s interesting that popular music is reacting to our culture’s ability to skip whatever, whenever; to satisfy a need with myriad choices, or access an infinite palette within seconds. I would invite you to stay tuned to what the Nova space will become as it blossoms out of this pandemic winter alongside a new cultural awakening. Embrace the opportunity to connect with new ideas, sounds, and people, and maybe even cultivate something inside of yourself that you might share. Let’s stop mindlessly scrolling and see if we can manifest our dreams and share them with one another. That might sound a little hokey, but isn’t that essentially what we all want to do?
So this one turned out to be potentially highfalutin, but the sentiment is real: do get in touch with any ideas or if you would like to find a way to help or get involved. I’m going to keep banging out these essays, and we’ve got another month or so of livestreams coming down the pipe, but very soon, the world will start turning again and we’ll be happy to welcome you to Nova, and in turn, help you to welcome others.
Eric Gagne is the Programming Director at Nova Arts, and has spent the last thirteen years booking The Thing in the Spring. He also played many shows over the past decades with Death to Tyrants, Sisters and Brothers, and Redwing Blackbird, and is actively recording and performing with his band Footings.