 AN INSTANT CONNECTION "People said, 'You're crazy.' But the culture of Flagstaff is such that I kind of knew we’d be able to pull this off because people here really appreciate music, appreciate culture, appreciate community." —Chris Scully, Former Co-Owner, Orpheum Theatre Flagstaff has a magnetic pull—something about this place draws you in and makes it hard to leave. Historic hotels and music venues, amazing food, sound baths, listening rooms, and the scent of ponderosa pines in the air: this town is pure magic. What started as a quick stop to catch a show at the Orpheum and spend the night at the Hotel Monte Vista turned into a month-long adventure. Before I knew it, I was negotiating with hotel management to extend my stay. Listening back to this episode, I realize I only skimmed the surface of what Flagstaff has to offer. It’s a place that pulls you into its orbit and makes you feel like you’ve been part of the community all along. ROCK HARD & SLEEP WELL "I needed to bring extra pillows to their room, and I remember walking in and seeing gorgeous instruments just leaning against the walls." —Lindsay, Front Desk Clerk, Hotel Monte Vista The Hotel Monte Vista, located just off Route 66 on San Francisco Street, is no ordinary hotel. Each room has its own personality, which is part of the charm, along with the hotel’s rich history and the parade of famous guests who’ve stayed there. I recorded this episode from two of their most iconic rooms: Michael Stipe’s and Bing Crosby’s. It didn’t take long to realize that this hotel is the heart of Flagstaff. The lounge and adjoining cocktail bar buzz with energy, filled with travelers and locals alike. One of the hotel’s most memorable stories comes from Lindsay, a front desk clerk. She told me about delivering extra pillows to Elephant 6, a band staying at the Monte Vista after performing at the Orpheum Theatre. Moments like that highlight the unique energy of this place, where musicians and guests mingle in the most unexpected ways. RAGED SO HARD THEY BLEW A FUSE "Everything else in the building shut down, including the lighting rig. The emergency lights came on. We went to a cash bar, but the sound kept going and the show went on. It's a legendary night at the Orpheum. I still hear about it to this day." —Chris Scully, Co-Owner, Orpheum Theatre The Orpheum Theatre stands as Flagstaff's crown jewel for live music, hosting acts from JJ Cale and Lucinda Williams to Tyler, the Creator. During my tour with Chris Scully, we explored every corner—from the parking lot to the green rooms—uncovering the venue's architectural quirks and legendary stories. One of the most iconic? The night Umphrey’s McGee rocked so hard they blew a fuse. The entire building went dark except for the emergency lights, but the music didn’t stop. The band kept playing, the crowd stayed, and the night became part of Orpheum folklore. There was even the time a fan crawled through the attic and made it all the way to the green room—just another wild chapter in the venue’s history. THE INFAMOUS MEAT MAN ROOM With nearly a century of stories—spanning speakeasy nights, music legends, and celebrity guests—the Hotel Monte Vista feels alive with history. And with that history comes a few ghosts. Lindsay, the front desk clerk, shared the hotel's eerie tales, which are anything but tame. "They’re not exactly PG. Sometimes kids ask me about the stories, and I’m like, 'How do I tell you that someone robbed a bank, got shot, and then had his last glass of whiskey here in our lounge?’" But the creepiest stories revolve around the “Meat Man” room, haunted by a ghost that leaves even the staff unsettled. While I never encountered any ghosts firsthand, the stories lingered with me long after our conversation ended, giving me chills just thinking about them. IN CONCLUSION: What started as a quick stop along Route 66 became a transformative experience. Between the concerts, cozy rooms, and ghost stories, Flagstaff left its mark on me. It’s a place where music and history intertwine, pulling you into a community that feels both familiar and new. This connection is what I love most about live music venues—the way they connect us to the spirits of those who stood in the same spot, under the same roof, witnessing unforgettable performances. And that’s the magic of Flagstaff: it leaves you feeling connected, not just to the place, but to everyone who came before. LISTEN TO THE FULL ROCKUMENTARY PODCAST HERE
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FROM A BACKSTAGE TOUR TO PUGS AT THE FRONT DOOR: When I signed up for a backstage, daytime guided tour of the Moody Theatre, the home of Austin City Limits, I wasn’t planning to meet the photographer whose work of countless musicians adorns the venue walls. But after the tour, my curiosity to know more about his life and process was on auto-pilot, I felt drawn to him for some reason, coaxed. Within hours of my tour, I was in a taxi on my way to meet Scott Newton. As I walked through his misty garden, I was very nervous but was instantly put at ease when his pug Slugger greeted me at the door. As a lifelong pug person, my heart skipped a beat and I felt kindred. TRAVEL THROUGH TERABYTES: Flipping through his coffee table book of photography and later through his digital archive, Scott shares stories about some of the artists who sing from the glossy pages. You’ll hear about Willie Nelson, his best friend who he has been photographing since the 60’s and you’ll never believe who called him up to ask to use one of his photographs as an album cover! Scott talks about his technical approach to photography (he’s a Nikon guy) but it was his philosophy on the art of photography itself that brought me to tears. His concepts and viewpoints on the muse, the creative process and on spirituality will take you deep inside and outside yourself. MEDIA TIME CAPSULE OF MUSIC MAGIC: “Ostensibly, we're bringing through the very best musicians of the world really these days, and it's the place where everybody goes to show their A-game. And so we're laying down an anthology of the very best the culture has to offer.” Scott Newtown With humble roots, Austin City Limits is the longest running music series in American TV history. The concert experience is a unique one, because the show is being taped for tv. This affords artists the luxury of re-doing songs; sometimes more than once. Scott talks about an artist who might have taken the luxury a bit too far and shares spiritual viewpoints on what a venue means to our society. IN CLOSING: Anne Geddes says that, “The best images are the ones that retain their strength and impact over the years, regardless of the number of times they are viewed.” And I now believe the same can be said about podcasts. Thank you for reading, for listening and for being here - I sincerely hope this podcast episodes brings you joy and newfound appreciation and perspective for the work you practice. I can’t help but wonder, was this pop concert the culmination of my healing journey through heartbreak, or rather, the start of a new love cycle?  LISTEN TO THE AUDIO FIELD NOTE VERSION HERE Click to listen The heartbreak journey that takes you down many emotional paths. Depression, displacement—for me, denial that I would ever want to be in love again. And during each stage of my process, the perfect breakup song would seem to serendipitously appear and like a lyrical blanket, insulate my cold heart. Starting with Carol King lamenting, "It's too Late," transitioning into Little Dragon’s, “No Love.” Then it was Peter Tosh bellowing, “Why Must I Cry,” and as of late, “Last Goodbye” by Jeff Buckley. And many, many, other songwriters were there for me too. Yet, these songs are a double-edged sword inadvertently reinforcing despair. The truth is, they made me kind of calloused towards love too. But when I ventured into the Maine Savings Amphitheater at the waterfront in Bangor, Maine to photograph contemporary pop stars JAX, MAX, and Big Time Rush, I feel giddy and carefree, and dare I say, start to see love through a sparkling lens of optimism again. And I can’t help but wonder, was this pop concert the culmination of my healing journey, or rather, the start of a new love cycle? ----- When I arrived at the newly renovated amphitheater to grab my photo pass, chunky clouds were crawling across the sky, the glowing summer sun was dipping behind the galvanized fence, and a cool breeze was coming off the nearby Penobscot River. Hundreds of young people, adorning handmade shirts and clutching bedazzled signs requesting songs or kisses, were patiently sitting, while countless others, wearing perma-grins, continued to stream in. I pulled out my Canon 5D, double checked my batteries, and slid into the photo pit in time for Jax, a 27 year old singer/songwriter from New Jersey who cut her teeth in the pop industry on “American Idol” and as of late, has blown up on TikTok. She bounced onto the stage wearing a ‘90s-inspired tracksuit, giant black platform boots from Hot Topic, and a blonde ponytail with a life of its own. Her songs range from the joys of babysitting and mentorship, slaying ex-boyfriends, and to finding new love. One of my favorite photos that I captured was of Jax and her guitarist, singing back to back, the Forrest Gump and Bubba of power pop. Even her stage banter was wicked fun. But the highlight came when she brought her performance down into the audience. Like a moth to a flame, she was drawn to Michael, a 24-year-old from Boston with a sign that read "I want to sing Victoria's Secret with You!" She sauntered off the stage towards him and together, her and Michael, who had retro Happy Day’s glasses, sang into the mic her hit song, “Victoria’s Secret.” A 21c pop anthem that criticizes the company and its concept of beauty. When I caught up with Michael afterwards he was shaking with joy. Elated. When I asked him why he loved Jax he said, “Because she is so body positive and I just love her genre." Modern pop isn’t typically my go to style of music or genre, but having this new experience lifted my spirits in a way I didn’t expect and I was only one band in, needless to say, I was excited to see MAX perform next. Named a “top popstar to watch” by Billboard magazine, MAX models, acts, and collaborates with K-pop stars like BTS's Suga. He's been on hit Nickelodeon TV shows and movies and recently headlined Seoul Jazz Festival in South Korea. As the roadies plugged in the final XLR chords, the giant screen at the back of the stage lit up in yellow with black MAX lettering. Like a magnet, the barricade attracted so many wiggling fans, including myself. Through the eye of my lens, I could see that every step he took across the stage was deliberate, as if he was savoring the energy of the moment. His outfit was incredibly stylish and his smile was the epitome of charming. He was decked out in bright orange pants, an abstract Rothko-esque tricolored nylon top that hugged at his biceps, white kicks, and black crescent moon shaped glasses. Within seconds of arriving at the center of the stage, he leapt into his first pop song. I knew that he was going to be an energetic performer, but wow, my shutter speed could not keep up with him! He was high kicking, spinning, jumping, dancing, all while maintaining a focused vocal range, pitch and tone. Many of the songs on his forthcoming studio album, spread a message of being true to who you are, wearing what you want, loving who you want, and creating a safe space where everyone can feel accepted. The heartfelt anthem, "Lights Down Low," was his breakout hit, garnering millions of streams and, according to Yahoo News, has become a universal expression of love. MAX says that he wrote ‘Lights Down Low’ soon after he began dating a woman named Emily. “And I knew I was just gonna write a song that I wanted for her,” he confesses. “I just wanted to dedicate something to her. I just knew she was it, and I knew I was gonna marry her. It was wild. I just literally knew.” In fact, he proposed to her by singing it. Love takes center stage in every aspect of his artistry. From his heartfelt lyrics to his electrifying performance and genuine dedication to connecting with his fans. At the end of his set, he announced that he would be at the merch booth signing autographs. In my experience, when a band makes this promise, it is met with a laissez faire audience response, but not here. Within seconds, young people were flying towards the merch booth. The line formed screaming fast, extending almost back to the stage and I was floored by how quickly Max appeared. Within seconds of announcing the autograph session, he magically jumped onto the merch table, waving to his adoring fans. After a quick towel off, (he was dripping with sweat), he began signing autographs one by one. I stood in line with his fans, giddy as hell. The excitement to see a pop star up close is adrenalizing. Being amongst the hoards of happy fans made me feel so young, carefree, and alive. It’s wild how cute boys, energetic music, and new friends can have this effect. As I made my way back towards the stage to prepare for the headline performance, MAX and two bodyguards zoomed past me with a trail of excited girls in hot pursuit. It was a sight to behold. I had no idea what to expect when getting ready for Big Time Rush (BTR). When the venue went dark and spotlights beamed down onto an LED paneled platform, silhouettes of the singers wearing matching outfits gradually ascended from beneath the stage. That’s when I knew I was in for a boy band ride. In a “Star Trek”-like formation, they stood together, beaming with gratitude, the crowd’s anticipation mounting like the Second Coming. I zoomed in to get a closer look at the guy and was sucked in by Logan Henderson's celestial dimples. Swoon. A hot boy serenade is enough to send you to the moon! With the drop of the booming beat, the band exploded into a choreographed dance, and when the smoke machine blew off, I climaxed. The combination of documenting such an fun performance with my camera, the unbridled energy of the fans, and my proximity to the band, made me positively euphoric. I let go and screamed full-throated my M***&^% face off. Who cares if I broke professional photographer protocol? It was absolutely cathartic to break into a new phase of love with such abandon.I was a teenager again screaming in support of love and possibilities. And, let’s be real, for hot guys singing to me! From dance rock hits to ballads, BTR covered the spectrum of love songs. I’m no expert on boy band culture, but in my opinion the band lived up to tradition and expectations. I mean, everyone was simply sublime. After a few songs in the pit, I made my way to the back of the amphitheater where lasers painted the night sky. I watched from afar a group of young people twirling to the show. It was as if the music had unlocked a hidden door for me, one that I haven’t walked through in years; where inside, innocence and open hearts dance freely. I fully acknowledge that I experienced this show through bubblegum-colored glasses, but we all know that the dark night of the soul through heartbreak is intense. So to have this new feeling felt dizzying. And The energy exchange between bands and fans was a rejuvenating reminder that love is meant to be playful, naive, and downright fun. With renewed enthusiasm, a newly thawed heart, and a reaffirmed belief in the power of music, I took a sizable, if trepidatious step forward to join the dancers, eager to embrace the potential of falling in love again, just like the kids these days. Special thanks to Danny Schneider, Nicole Rosiak and Jessica Peterson and to all the musicians in this episode for making music that lifts us up to where we belong. For more rockumentary podcasts exploring concert culture, listen and subscribe to Concert Cast on Itunes or wherever you listen to podcasts.
 At 4 pm sharp electronic doors opened, (think haunted house at the Magic Kingdom), and we were ushered into a very lavish living room. Much like the haunted house ride at Disney World, we're surrounded by picture frames on a digital carousel, swapping out photos of music legends every 10 seconds or so. I took a seat and within minutes, a 3D version of Garth Brooks and his wife, Trisha Yearwood appeared. This was not a video, not a hologram, but the in between version of hologram and standard video projection. They dove into history of the Opry with carefully edited clips assembled to pull at the heartstrings. The music, the choreographed lights and the script were so emotional, I was both moved by the history of live music and also the production value. But in the same moment it felt like I was being force fed the importance of the venue. I had already bitten the lure and was on the line. I could see the value of a sparkly marketing piece to attract me, but they already had me onboard. Over done or was I already overthinking? After the emotional lubricant was applied, came the tour. Another set of animatronic doors swung open and we were now in the lobby of the theater watching... more videos. If the first video didn’t impress the importance of what we were about to do, this video made sure to do that for us. Then we were ushered by a very perky guide with perfected punchlines and an even perkier rhinestone belt. And you know, that is one reason why I enjoy these kinds of tours. They are bottled up and packaged just right. Homogenized and safe. Embracing experiences designed for tourists allows me to not think too hard, rather just go with the flow. However, I indulged in considering my own podcast paradox. Concert Cast was created to evoke deeper feelings of concert culture by talking to people at the heart of the industry, or, like the backstage tour does, to lift the veil on magic. The inquisitive nature of Concert Cast and heartfelt curiosity, like this backstage tour, is what keeps me producing. But now I have something new to consider: where should the curtain fall? We walked through another set of doors and were officially backstage. The lighting was more sterile, and the ceilings so high you could barely see the top. Some stagehands were pacing, waiting for musicians and I wonder if they feel like animals in a cage when tourists come through. We turn a corner and are ushered into a TV studio where Hee Haw, a country-themed television variety show was filmed and where new TV specials are now too. There was a huge drop screen and a balcony for a TV audience along with lighting rigs and tresses. And then, you guessed it, another video explaining the importance of the room. From there we were ushered into the dressing room area which felt like the lobby at an office complex, complete with a guard behind a desk checking IDs. What caught my eye was a little post office where members of the Opry receive fan mail. There were the plaques of all the country stars and so many great pictures. We walked down a long hallway as the guide explained to us how each dressing room is designed differently, and mentioned musicians who prefer which room and why. (By the way, Dolly Parton loves the purple themed room with crystals.) Each room had its own vibe and decor with a multitude of colors and patterns. And they were super clean and appeared barely used. Honestly, they felt more like a hotel room and I was a little disappointed they didn’t have more marks of the musicians who used them as sanctuary before a show. There was no sign of grit, no sign of a story. From years of interviewing bands backstage at venues, there really is a sense of magic in the walls, but the backstage area here felt superimposed. I was fascinated by the mystery of what they were covering up. What party stains did a cleaner spend hours removing? What is the real narrative of the venue? If country music is known for antics, these backstage areas felt a bit too polished. When I asked the perky guide with a rhinestone belt about any shenanigans, she had a bottled answer that I am sure is partly true; the artists are on their best behavior because they want to be invited back. Now the backstage area held a narrative of privilege and success – and reverence like a place of worship. She then showed us the main lounge area where The Archie Campbell Mural was the centerpiece. The painting was drawn in 1966 for the cover of a souvenir book and then installed as a mural in 1981. The image depicts a night at the Opry where a bunch of cartoon characters, similar to a Where’s Waldo setup, are dancing all over the stage and having their own little life. This mural was the only relic that truly showed character of the backstage area because there was no sheen, and the guide explained how it was water stained from the 2010 flood. That detail, more than anything else she shared, grabbed my attention. The waterline was about 4 feet off the ground indicating that the stage upon which we were about to walk was once underwater. Bouncing back from that disaster is a true testament to the power of this place and its people. And that it is memorialized in a mural depicting joyful cartoon characters is unexpected. This was the realness that I was looking for and aim to tell in Concert Cast episodes. The challenges that a venue or artist endures is where the story starts and that shared, human condition is what I love about podcasting. The magic is in the story - the real story. As we walk towards the stage and turn a small corner, we are met with a massive auditorium filled with rows of cushioned church pews. And while we are not performers, I think we all understood the wow factor musicians feel as they step onto the stage and take in the majestic scene. Now I get what Garth and Trisha shared in their moving welcome video. Blocked off sections of instrumentation on stage hinted of a museum, less the do not touch signs, and then we were, at long last, steps away from the infamous “circle” that was explained to us ad nauseam in the videos. This 4X4 circle is where so many artists stood at the Ryman, the former home of the Opry, and then they moved this patch of wood to the current location in the 70’s. There is a stark difference between the circle and the stage. This and the cartoon mural were the only elements in the house that showed its age. The wood grain in the circle was light and weathered, like a high school gym beaten down by years of basketball playing, the history of the piece of wood dazzled in the lights. It’s funny how we make regular objects into metaphors, projecting our own wishes, hopes and dreams onto something that has no heartbeat. But it is this that makes the live music experience so fascinating to me, imagining all the people that once stood in our shoes and will stand there once again. Venues are mythological, and we personify the building to better connect. But again, this is a contradiction of live music venues, because to many people, venues are considered just a building, there is no mystery or magic about it. While on stage, I did feel like an imposter, there is a sense of getting too close to the magic, and, like the static electricity of being shocked back into reality. Do these tours take away the magic, or enhance it? As a podcaster who is inspired by moments like these - I do penetrate the 4th wall by taking listeners behind the scenes and sharing the realness of being backstage before a performer goes on. Because to me, the magic is in the mundane but it is also in the mystery of what goes on backstage. But on a tour like this where we feel like we are at a zoo or museum, it can feel like sacrilege or something, cheapening the experience. However, for many, it will be what they tell their friends about when sharing travel stories about Nashville. I am not a musician, so I did not feel worthy to stand in the circle. But I stepped inside to absorb the creativity; the collective feeling of humans longing for a moment to be seen and heard, and to share their passion. After a stop at the gift shop and dinner in Opryland, I'm back in my pew for the show. More videos played on the monstrous big screens, driving home the history of this place but this time, it was out of context and unnecessary. The videos hijacked our imagination, replacing it with their own narrative. Concerts are subjective and showing too many videos that curate a feeling aren’t fair to people who want to experience things on their own terms. A bit deflated and with no real choice, I sunk into the videos and waited for the music. The Opry is a long-standing radio performance, so the host comes out to introduce each band and then in between their acts, which are only 3 songs or so each, stagehands come out to reconfigure the set up for the next band. That was super cool to watch. And I love how the entire night was like scanning the radio, where different genres of country were heard, and before you know it, you were onto the next band. It was definitely a great experience in this day and age of short attention spans. But the real magical part of the night for me was knowing that my parents once sat in the audience, back in the 90’s when both Clint Black and Garth Brooks performed on the same night. Sitting on the pews, transported me through time. I love that venues are a connective thread across generations and l got lost thinking of my mom and dad, being here together at my age enjoying music. Like an apparition going back in time, my mind's eye watched as they walked through the door, found their row and then watched the musicians step onto the stage for their moment in the circle. This unexplainable feeling is enchanting. The feeling of unity and togetherness is hypnotic, it moves, it breathes, it is invisible. When I left the venue, my system felt shocked, not by the bitter Tennessee winter air, but by a mini revelation of how cynical I can be. People enjoy the backstage tour and, truly, so did I. There is a reason that 20 of them run daily. The joy of being a tourist, letting go and being swept up in the lore is to be open and curious, and that is also what I aim to offer through Concert Cast. To talk with people who live and breathe live music. Sharing stories and reflections doesn’t demystify, rather it makes a connection and brings the listener inside the magic. I think that works when the story revealed is real and not pasteurized for preservation. Moonshine, mushrooms and a mythical night of music. |
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