Ellery Stimulus

We’re embarking on a lovely experiment as the year draws to a close: The Ellery House-Show Tour. Want to host? If you’re in the Midwest (or perhaps just beyond), get in touch!

Want to know what this House Concert thing’s all about? Keep Reading!

We’ve wanted to spend the dusk of the year making music in midwest living rooms: Creating fine evenings when folks can get together and feel warm, human, creative, inspired, maybe even loved.

Many Ellery friends/fans are new to the house concert thing– But never fear! We’ve gathered “house concert facts” from other artists’/hosts’ websites, and added our own “direct from Ellery” notes.

Take a look and see if a house show ignites your creative and/or social fires– We hope it does! Then send us an email and we’ll make it happen.

:: :: House Concert Facts! :: ::

WHAT IS IT? A House Concert is a show that’s presented in someone’s home or private space. Helpful descriptions here!

HOW MANY PEOPLE? A host will want to fill at least 20 chairs for a show; more would be even better. ROOM SIZE: People who regularly host House Concerts are able to seat 20-50 people, though concerts can be much larger if a home is big enough to accommodate more. CROWD SIZE: Before moving forward with a House Concert, a host should feel confident that they can not only set up, but fill at least 20 chairs for the show. Listening bodies are important, because the artist’s pay depends on admission charges and/or donation tips from a happy audience. Plus, a crowd creates great energy; everyone will enjoy the show that much more!

ADMISSION COST? Typical admission for a House Concert is $10-15. If you feel uncomfortable asking your invitees to pay to get in, a “Suggested Donation” box or jar (with a lot of “Please make sure you donate!” encouragement) can also work. Your sign by the collection might read, “Suggested Donation $10-15; all donations go directly to the artist!”
If you’d like to pay the artist a set amount and then make your show free (no admission or donations), let the artist know when booking so he/she can give you details.

***Direct From Ellery! WHERE DO GUESTS COME FROM? We’ve publicized house shows before, but this Fall our hope is to connect with some new listeners and to energize an intimate gathering in a new way. So the idea is that our hosts will fill their living rooms with 20+ friends, family, coworkers, etc… Basically, people who are invited by you and by your guests- Like a lovely widening web. If you’re not sure you can do this, let us know and we’ll talk about options & ideas!

IS THIS LIKE A PARTY? A House Concert is different from a party with live music. At a house concert, the music is the focus; the guests come to listen and engage with the artists. If you’re considering a House Concert as part of a celebration or other life event, consider that your guests will not be mingling/conversing during the Concert. However, you can certainly create mingling time before/after the music, or between two shorter music sets.

WHAT ABOUT FOOD/DRINKS? A House Concert host is not required to provide food or drinks for guests. Many hosts encourage guests to bring their own food/drink to enjoy during the show. Many others make the evening a potluck, and still others work with a few friends to provide enough snacks for all the guests.

OTHER? Some House Concert hosts provide a meal and a guest room for the artist. This is certainly not required, but it can be a nice gesture depending on your location and the artist’s travel plans. If you’d like to offer this to your artist, let him/her know when booking.

DAYS OF THE WEEK? Weekdays and Weekends are both appropriate for House Concerts. Earlier show times are often better during the work week; but truly, the best day for a House Concert is the one that works best for you and your guests.

***Direct from Ellery! WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE between this & the “Ellery Stimulus“ House Concert? …Ah, so you’ve read about the Ellery Stimulus concerts, which come with a $500 donation to the new record! What’s the difference? The Stimulus donations contribute specifically to the new record and come with extra goodies– like a pre-released copy of the new CD, a DVD, name in liner notes, etc. If you’re interested in donating to the Ellery Stimulus at the House Concert level, ask for details– and/or you can order at the link above! Some Stimulus donators do charge admission to recoup a portion of what they donated; others donate and then put on a free event. The option you choose (Stimulus house concert vs. regular) is entirely up to you; if you’d like more details before deciding, send us a note!
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If you have ANY questions, concerns, ideas, etc, please send them our way. As formulaic as some of this sounds, we’re really two happy artists who’d LOVE to work with you to make something great come together in your space. The next step? Send your thoughts/ideas, and include some dates that would work for you!
Thank you for your Hosting Love!

–Tasha & Justin // ellery

If you’re still curious, more seriously cheesy videos about house concerts are available here!

Autumn is rich with meaning for us; it’s like the very earth turns into poetry: All rainy, sobering, haunting… Romantic and bitter, and a whirlwind of stunning beauty. October begins what I’ve come to call the dusk of the year: Everything starts folding in on itself, deep and dramatic.

I’m inclined to believe we’re all new with every moment, each of us a glorious dynamic swimming thing… But this time of year creates such curious meetings with who we were last year, and the year before, all our Autumn seasons contracting and huddled in with each other like bellows of an accordion. And of course the wild world starts hovering over things like leaves, fireplaces, coffee, wool, books, cider…
(Hmm, at least after the skeletons and jack-o-lanterns. We are, after all, still pre-Halloween.)

Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m still that girl who hates being cold, wears knit hats all year long, and has some undeniable seasonal depression. (Thanks Winter!). Nevertheless, there’s a delicious haunting to this season that I don’t care to escape. We feel ourselves leaning already into the early sunsets, into family, nostalgia, dreams, and *ahem, forgive us* songs about snow.
Thus begins the end: the year yawning, exhaling into December.

I was born in the morning of the world,
So I know how morning looks…
Morning looks like people look,
like a cornfield wanting corn,
like a sea wanting ships.
Tell me about any strong beautiful wanting
And there is your morning, my morning,
everybody’s morning. From Timesweep

On October 11th, 2008, we were driving down I-26 in North Carolina when we spotted a sign for (poet) Carl Sandburg’s historic home, located off the next exit. This writer is monumental to me, so we immediately exited the highway and found ourselves in one of the most delicious afternoons I can remember… I wrote about the experience here.

So. On October 13th, 2009, we were driving across I-74 from Des Moines to Cincinnati, when we spotted a sign for the Carl Sandburg State Historic Site in Galesburg IL, coming up at the next exit. On this trip we deliberated only a moment; it was getting late and we had hours to go… But- seriously.

We made our way through Galesburg’s rainy windswept streets lined with old houses, warehouses, small shops… Train tracks intersected this way and that, trains coming and going every few minutes, creaking and rumbling.
We pulled down the relatively quiet street where Sandburg grew up, and slowed in front of the house where he was born.

I was born on the prairie and the milk of its wheat, the red of its clover, the eyes of its women, gave me a slong and a slogan… –From Prairie

At this point we hadn’t made the connection with our previous Sandburg excursion almost exactly a year earlier. But there was a familiar sense of lush mystery as we rolled down the windows and peered into the cold.

The home & museum are only open for tours on Sundays, so we were limited to the grounds. Justin parked; we took it all in. It was a bitter cold day for October; it had rained all morning and the wind was up. I wrapped a blanket around me and the light coat I was wearing, and we huddled down the walk, around that tiny house, to the back lawn where Sandburg’s ashes are buried.

We had no idea this was here, and it was a bittersweet surprise. We stood and listened to the trains. Leaves fell.

We tried and -oh, regretfully- failed to remember any of Sandburg’s words, too pulled by tasks and long drives, by the unexpected intersection, the strange quiet everywhere.

So here, what I wish I could have said over Mr. Sandburg’s stone of remembrance:

I speak of new cities and new people.
I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes.
I tell you yesterday is a wind gone down,
a sun dropped in the west.
I tell you there is nothing in the world
only an ocean of tomorrows,
a sky of tomorrows.
From Prairie

(Where will we see you again? These chance October meetings have stirred our souls.)