My previous posted highlighted the two live music gigs we have coming up in the Spring – Iona Lane on 27 April and Sam Sweeney on 6 May. These will be our last gigs – well, there is one more that was half way through being booked so I will see how that shapes up, but no more.
It was a very tough decision. I have tried to stop hosting live gigs before and always gone back to it – the main reason being that I love the musicians we host and want to support them as much as I can, albeit in a very small way. We are a convenient location for a musician on tour, and at the very least the fee we pay can help cover expenses on the road as they travel north to south or east to west. I have been hosting live music for nearly 10 years – we opened on 26 July 2013 with a live concert of jazz and storytelling.
I think the reason it feels different is that in the past I have given up because it all felt too much, but now I am giving up because I want to. It IS too much for one person – I don’t think anyone really knows the ins and outs of regular bookings unless you’ve done it, and doing it entirely alone for 10 years has been exhausting and, above all, intensely lonely. I can cope with the exhaustion but can no longer cope with the loneliess. I get lovely help on the nights of the gigs, don’t get me wrong, and a few people have been incredibly supportive on that front much of the time. I have also hosted a lot of them on my own – which involves setting out chairs, moving bookcases, providing food for musicians, making sure musicians have everything they need, checking tickets, dealing with people spilling drinks and more. I am so thankful for the times when others have helped with this practical stuff.
But the process of booking and dealing with all the emails and the stress of making sure we sell all the tickets (we have been out of pocket several times, the best we hope for is to break even in terms of paying the musicians) is something I have always done without anyone to bounce stuff off, talk anything over with, share in any way, and I don’t want to do it any more. I have even stopped enjoying the evenings themselves as much as I used to, because I spend the whole evening full of the remnant of how hard it’s all been and no one there who has a clue about how I feel about any of it.
People have spoken about the legacy of the pandemic and lockdowns in various ways, and the way it has left me feeling is that I am hugely reluctant to do things in the evenings. I miss that first lockdown, which was heaven to me – I make no apology for that, I like many introverts live all our lives under the pressure of a sociable society, and I hate it. But I am now determined to spend more time at home – I used to spend almost every evening at the bookshop – and think very carefully about what else I might put on in the evenings.
It’s been an indescribable privilege to host these events and to meet the musicians and to listen live to their incredible music in our tiny venue – we can seat 32 max. We used to be able to seat 40 but now we have a treehouse! Live music in an intimate space with a good acoustic is the best. And we have built up a great audience – a strong core of regulars and always new people. Audiences have been fabulous. There have been very poorly attended gigs, but fewer in recent years, and the atmosphere is always lovely. They laugh at the jokes, they applaud and cheer, they sing along when invited to do so (and sometimes when not invited) and it’s been a lovely thing to have in our little town.
So thank you to all those who have come to our gigs, and to all those musicians who have stopped off in Kenilworth on their national tours and enriched our lives and the life of the bookshop with their music and their personalities. I am heartbroken, despite saying I wanted to give up, utterly heartbroken, it’s a kind of grief. But I will cherish all the memories, and I won’t say never again. Our lovely landlords have just offered us a new 6-year lease (the lease was due to run out in April), so Kenilworth is stuck with the Tree House a bit longer, and maybe I will find some new way to host live professional music. We still have our open mic for local musicians who want to come and play a song or two. The rest I leave to the amazing Temperance in Leamington and Rye Piece Barn in Ettington – two fabulous venues who are able to cope better than me, chiefly through having a team.
Come and hear Iona Lane at the bookshop and Sam Sweeney at the United Reformed Church, to celebrate the end of this very special chapter in the life of the bookshop and of our little town. Book tickets here. (There will be some available in person at the bookshop soon.)
The Tree House Second-hand Bookshop 