Greetings! I write to you on a wintry November night, drizzly and windy and chilly and dark. In other words, it’s 2:30 pm here in Port Townsend. I tried going for a walk just now and made it about two blocks before turning back for the warmth of home.
Yes, the indoor season is upon our hemisphere. It’s a good time for writing long blog posts, reading fat novels, tackling ambitious baking projects (like bagels!), and dreaming of what we’ll do once light and blossoms return. This season can be challenging, for sure, but on balance, I’m a fan.
(Since I wrote those opening sentences last week, the sunshine has returned—what a stunning change!)
First, some cold hard facts about my upcoming gigs. (You can always find this info on my events page, too.) Note that there are shows in Bremerton, Port Townsend, and Seattle!
1) Monday, November 20 @ Brother Don's Bar & Grill • w/ the Chris Bickley Quartet
6:00 to 9:00 pm • 4200 Kitsap Way, Bremerton, WA • All Ages • No Cover
I'm honored to be the featured guest with the CBQ. Chris is a phenomenal saxophonist who I had the pleasure of meeting and playing with last month in PT. Also in the band: my old friend Osama Afifi on bass, plus Dave Cohen on drums.
2) Saturday, November 25 @ The Uptown Pub • w/ Uncle Funk & the Dope Six
9:00 to 11:00 pm • 1016 Lawrence St, Port Townsend, WA • 21+ • No Cover
My second show with Port Townsend's favorite cover band. Expect a range of tunes—from funk to soul to rock, ubiquitous hits to obscure gems. More to the point: expect to dance.
3) Saturday & Sunday, December 2 & 3 @ The Bishop Hotel • Holiday Market • Solo Piano
5:00 to 7:00 pm Saturday & 3:00 to 5:00 pm Sunday • 714 Washington St, Port Townsend, WA • All Ages • No Cover
Browse unique gifts from local vendors while sipping wine and listening to live jazz piano. The market runs from 1 to 7 on Saturday and 12 to 5 on Sunday; I'll be playing keys for the last two hours each day.
4) Wednesday, December 13th @ The Bishop Hotel • Reading Night • Solo Piano
5:00 to 7:00 pm • 714 Washington St, Port Townsend, WA • All Ages • No Cover
Just like it sounds! Inspired by a similar event at Seattle’s Sorrento Hotel. Bring a book, settle in, and I’ll provide the soundtrack.
5) Saturday, December 16th @ a house in NE Seattle • Solo Concert
7:30 pm doors • 8:00 pm show • RSVP for Address • All Ages • Pay What You Choose ($20-30 suggested)
I love playing in this gorgeous space on a fine Boston grand piano. I'll be doing a mix of originals and covers, vocal tunes and instrumentals. Email me if you're interested in this one.
6) Thursday, December 21 @ The Maple Leaf Music Space • Solstice Open Mic & Art Night
7:00 pm doors • 8:00 pm show • 1060 NE 100th St, Seattle, WA • All Ages • Pay What You Choose ($20 suggested)
I'll be hosting a semi-curated open mic night at Ev Stern's Maple Leaf Music Space. Magic routinely happens here. Come listen, eat, drink, perform, make art and new friends!
Okay, the business part is out of the way. If you’re up for some rambling, pour yourself a tall drink and proceed.
A lot has happened in the three months since my last dispatch. I’ve got a bunch of new students, and I’m starting to get called for gigs. In September, I played with local favorites Uncle Funk and the Dope Six at the Wooden Boat Festival—there must have been three hundred people in the crowd, dancing, hollering, delivering endless beers to the stage. (I got to feel like a local celebrity after that show, getting recognized all around town—and even, more than a month later, in Seattle! Hey, didn’t you play with Uncle Funk? Why yes. Yes I did.) I also had my first solo show, at the Bishop Hotel in October. The turnout was strong and the vibes were excellent. I played there again last Tuesday with my new friend Jonathan Doyle, a fantastic saxophonist and clarinetist here in town. (Here’s a short clip from our show.) Meanwhile, Naomi and I are making friends so fast we can’t remember half of their names. Port Townsend is starting to feel like home.
At the same time, I’m re-establishing my Seattle connections, and scheduling regular visits to the city to perform there, too. It would appear that, after two years out of the game, I’m diving headfirst back into professional musicking.
Before you worry too much, keep in mind that head-first dives are generally considered to be proper form. If I were belly-flopping into my new life, well, you’d have real cause for concern. What I mean to say is, I’m trying to do it with a bit more intention this time around.
At 32, I’m just beginning to feel like I know a thing or two about myself. Such as: I like to keep things local. As much as I love to travel, I hate zooming from place to place—which might explain why it took me five months to ride my bike from Seattle to LA in 2018. If I can’t inhabit a place for a good long stretch, then I’d rather not go there. Last summer, I got to live out a juvenile dream: I went on tour with an indie rock band—as a bassist, no less! We did the coast from LA up to Seattle. The music was good. We played Mississippi Studios! Also, it sucked. We drove forever, ate greasy takeout every day, slept on uncomfortable couches, and played for largely apathetic crowds. It made me grateful that my career path didn’t go the touring direction. I think it would have been hard to stay healthy if it had. On the other hand, I’ve walked to a house concert venue in my own neighborhood, played for a deeply-listening audience of friends and strangers, made solid money, and still got a good night’s sleep. What’s not to love?
A corollary: small towns are my jam. I loved my years in Walla Walla and Corvallis. I loved running into friends nearly every time I left the house. Port Townsend, with just over 10,000 residents, is my smallest town yet by far. Here, when you meet someone new, you don’t have to worry about getting their phone number: you’ll run into them, likely as not, the next day at the co-op. More to the point, I feel relaxed here. Less anxious, safer, blessed with more time. Most of my gigs are less than ten minutes from home. I don’t have to think about traffic, let alone sit in it.
Another thing I know by now: I dislike social media. After two years’ hiatus, I recently made a new Facebook page—so I could join Buy Nothing. I check it about every other week. When I moved to Oregon and shut off my accounts, I found I didn’t miss them at all. Truthfully, I didn’t like the way I was representing myself on those platforms. I didn’t like playing the self-promotion game. To be sure, I was always playing it halfheartedly, which is probably why I was never any good at it. Perhaps you have to play it, to some extent, if you’re an independent artist. Still, nothing beats a personal connection. If you're on this list, assuming you aren't a bot, it's because we're friends, or family, or you saw me play once and liked what you heard. That's real-world stuff. I want my music to be in service of community, not a commodity I'm trying to package and sell. Twitter/X, Instagram, Facebook, TikTok—I know these are powerful tools, and for some folks, well worth using. Not for me. Not now, anyway. Though they have occasionally provided a conduit for real connection, mostly, they sucked up my time and spirit. They encouraged me to make myself into a brand. And that makes me queasy.
Back in 2019 and 2020, making an album and playing a lot of shows and trying to get something off the ground, I fear I let myself get caught up in self-promotion. Now that I’m back to performing, I want to approach things a bit differently. Rather than "promoting" myself, I'm thinking in terms of "offering." I'll write these posts to offer my thoughts, in case you’re interested. I’ll tell you about my gigs to offer you the chance to attend, if you like. I’m less inclined, these days, to try to convince people of anything. I have little patience for trying to game the algorithm, to maximize the number of eyeballs my posts reach.
So far, I’ve been a bit quiet about my gigs here in Port Townsend. But I’m starting to sense that this has been frustrating for some of my new friends here. “I would have come if I’d known about it!” they say. “Make sure to tell me when you're playing next time.” I feel bad for letting them down, but more so, I’m grateful for the reminder that this music-making really isn’t about me. I love performing, yes, and it is a selfish act in that sense. But performance is fundamentally an offering to the audience. I perform because people love to listen and watch, just as I teach because people want to learn. This might all sound simple and obvious, but it’s taken me a long time to arrive here.
Which brings me around to another thing I know, more clearly than ever after my two-year hiatus: sharing music (whatever that means on a given day) is a calling. I like that term. I am “called” to do it, implying that someone out there is actively “calling for” my music. And it’s true! People routinely ask me to play music: for them, with them, near them. It’s an honor and a privilege to oblige.
Thank you, friends, for being with me on this adventure! Take care of yourselves, and each other. Community is our wealth!
With love,
Jonas