A Blue Ribbon Earning DIY Venue in SW Pennsylvania.
So here’s the situation. I’ve landed in Johnstown during what appears to be a quiet stretch in the local artistic and cultural scene — or at least a quiet stretch I’ve been able to find from the outside looking in. Could be a real gap. Could be I just haven’t located the side door yet. Either way, I’ve been on the hunt for DIY venues and galleries within reasonable Appalachian driving distance.
Turns out, just up the road from my friend’s house in Greensburg — about 45 minutes from me — is a joint called the Green Beacon Gallery. He ran across a flyer for a benefit show they were throwing and passed it my way. Here’s the important part, and I want to make this clear up front: the Green Beacon is not closing. Their current lease is ending and not being renewed, and they’re fundraising to relocate. Shows are continuing at the current location through the end of June. So if you’re reading this and thinking you missed it — you didn’t. Get out there. Support the move.
I read the flyer, saw ten-ish acts on the bill for twenty bucks, and thought, well, fuck. That sounds about right. I am fiending for a close-contact live show. Being surrounded by pure creative energy for a few hours isn’t a luxury for me — it’s a replenishment. So I kicked in the twenty (crazy cheap for that lineup) and made the plan completely blind. I knew the names on the marquee and absolutely nothing else. The way to do it.
Here’s how it shook out.
First, the conditions. This was supposed to be an indoor/outdoor show to fit all the acts, and the weather did not cooperate. Late spring freeze warning, rain on top of it, the whole grim soup. We rolled in a little late and learned that the opener and two other bands had fallen off. Now — let me say for the record, I don’t know any of these folks and I don’t know the particulars of anything that happened backstage. I’m an old dude talking about patterns I’ve seen play out plenty of times before. Shitty weather, outdoor show, bands dropping at the last minute — that’s normally the recipe for a blown event handled badly from a customer’s perspective. People get cranky, schedules go sideways, the staff makes you feel like the inconvenience.
That is not how this went down. Things started a touch late, but factor in punk rock time and the curveballs they were absorbing in real time, and they were honestly spot on. They reorganized the bill, moved the whole damn show inside, and did the thing. Professional in the way DIY gets professional — people who actually care making it work because nobody else is going to.
Now to the music. Going in blind means every set is a coin flip, and on a night like this every act gets to surprise you on its own terms.
Things kicked off with a performance art piece by The Artist Formerly Known as Grant Charney. A keytar warrior with props and a backing track. Genuinely fun set, committed to the bit, the kind of opener that resets the room and tells you the night is going to ask you to keep an open mind. My one piece of constructive feedback — and this is friendly — get some cardio in between shows. Having to stop and breathe broke up the rhythm a bit. Didn’t kill the show, but it’s the kind of thing a little training between gigs would smooth right out.
Next up was Take Me With You. If you enjoy 80s synth pop, you’re going to dig this gothy trio. Passionate female vocalist, a flexy-fingered bassist holding the melody and low end down, and a drum machine drummer who was also running a digital backing band behind the scenes — basically conducting an orchestra from one stool. This is not normally the kind of show I roll out for, but speaking as somebody who came of age in the mid 80s when this was what was — they could’ve toured with any of the bands of the era and you would’ve danced. Tight, atmospheric, real. Worth checking out without question.
Third on the newly merged bill was 2020k, an alternative pop and experimental electronic project. Queer-forward liberal politics, film support running behind, spoken word rant poetry stitched into the digital music. It’s a layered thing — you’re getting message, you’re getting sound, you’re getting visual all at once, and the whole package is doing work. Not background music. You have to show up for it.
Fourth act was El Grosso. Surf rock and garage played heavy and fast, and I’ll say it — they looked like a flock of cops. All the mature adult authority vibes. I mean that in the most affectionate way possible. All excellent musicians and the lead is an absolute technician. Hands like he has practiced 30 minutes a day for 30 years, probably because he has. The kind of set that gets a room moving even when half the room came to see something completely different.
Fifth was Passing Bell. Four piece. I am terrible with actual genre labels, but I’d call it melodic death metal with alternating screamo and spoken word vocals. The energy during the metal yelling is intense — you feel it in your chest, it does what it’s supposed to do. But where this one really shined was the spoken word passages. And here’s the thing — they didn’t actually slow the music down for it. The band kept thrashing melodiously underneath while the singer detached from the pace entirely and just emoted. Not singing. Not screaming. Reading the poems out — words landing on the bars but not matching the tempo of the music around them. You know, like the Doors. At the time I told my friend that it was like the Doors doing death metal. That’s a good look. That’s a really good look. There’s something about a band willing to trust the audience to track two rhythms at once. Passing Bell does it well.
And then, due to an injury to a key player in what was supposed to be the headlining act, the closing slot rolled to Bloody Run. First time I’ve seen them. Will not be the last. I like fast, I like heavy, and I like a strong three piece — when it works it’s pure efficiency, no fat, every player showing their power. These guys put a hard cap on a great day of artistic absorption and healing for me. The night could’ve sagged at the end after everything that got rearranged, and instead it went out swinging.
A couple of takeaways before I wrap this. I’m not going to describe the gallery itself in detail — what hangs in there you’d rather see in person than read me describe, and I didn’t take art pictures either, because I went there to be present, not to document. Enjoy the ID pics of the bands. That’s what’s worth holding onto from this one.
The bigger pattern I’ll note: the Green Beacon Gallery crew handled a difficult night the way DIY scenes at their best always have. Improvise, take care of the artists, take care of the people who showed up, do the damn show. That’s the spirit worth keeping a roof over. They’ve got shows running through the end of June at the current spot and they’re fundraising to relocate after that. If you’ve got a few bucks, kick in. If you’ve got a Saturday night, show up. The infrastructure only exists because people keep showing up to it.
Always support DIY art and music.
Please support the Green Beacon Gallery so they can keep serving Greensburg, Pennsylvania the art and culture that we all need to live. If everyone who reads this gets $5 to them, they will be able to build a venue. Honestly, we should crowdfund that…and then do it for every small city in America.
