Posted by I’ve mentioned before that when the tribute-band bug bit me, I started frequenting local pubs, clubs and stages throughout Long Island.
At the time, I was still discovering just how extensive the local music scene really was. Facebook played a surprisingly important role in that discovery. I began following venues and musicians, looking at who was playing where and trying to figure out which shows might be worth bringing my camera to.
One of the venue pages I started following was 89 North in Patchogue.
I had no idea at the time just how important that little venue would eventually become to me.
It Started With Fleetwood Macked
One of the first shows I wanted to see at 89 North was Fleetwood Macked, a Fleetwood Mac tribute. I was excited about seeing them, but more importantly, I was excited about photographing them.
There was only one problem.
I hadn’t checked my camera battery.
When I turned my camera on, I discovered—to my dismay—that the battery was already half dead.
Not exactly the way I wanted the evening to begin.
Bad Animals were the first act, followed by Refugee, a Tom Petty tribute. I managed to photograph nearly the entire Refugee set before my battery finally gave up.
And there went Fleetwood Macked.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to photograph them.
I probably would have disappointed myself even more if I had gone through that entire evening, only to discover just how good Fleetwood Macked was after my camera had died!
Lesson learned.
Always check the batteries.
It’s one of those early concert-photography lessons you don’t forget.
But something else happened that night that was considerably more important than a dead camera battery.
I discovered 89 North.
A Very Different Kind of Welcome
When I first walked through the doors, the ticket taker naturally asked who I was there to see.
“Fleetwood Macked,” I replied.
Once I paid my admission, I noticed Daniel Welsch standing nearby. Dan was the General Manager at the time, and he warmly greeted me and made sure the appropriate personnel knew that I had permission to photograph that evening.
There was no complicated process.
No feeling that I was some outsider trying to get into a venue.
I was simply welcomed.
That would become a recurring theme for me at 89 North.
As I continued returning, I began recognizing people. They began recognizing me. I followed Bad Animals, Refugee and Fleetwood Macked on Facebook, hoping to catch them at their next performances. In doing so, I discovered even more bands and tribute acts that I might never have known existed.
Before long, 89 North began to feel less like a venue I was visiting and more like a local neighborhood hangout.
People knew each other.
Musicians knew the regulars.
The staff knew the musicians.
And eventually, they knew me.
That feeling of community is something I don’t think you can manufacture.
A Stage Built Around The Music
There’s a reason 89 North has always felt different.
The building had sat unused for more than a decade before it was transformed into a music venue. When 89 North opened in April 2012, the former Moose Lodge had been given a completely new identity. The roughly 5,000-square-foot space featured a large dance floor, raised seating and a substantial bar.
But the physical transformation wasn’t the most important part.
The people behind 89 North wanted to address something they felt was missing from the Long Island music scene: a place where the music itself wasn’t an afterthought.
Dan Welsch described the concept simply: “a music venue first and a bar second.”
That philosophy is important because Long Island has plenty of bars and restaurants that feature live music. That’s not necessarily the same thing as having a venue built around the music.
89 North was designed to give performers a real stage, professional production and an intimate environment where the audience could get close to the action. The venue itself still describes its mission as combining the atmosphere of a hometown bar with the stage and equipment necessary for a premium concert experience.
And perhaps that’s why I connected with it so quickly.
It’s intimate.
It’s energetic.
And when the room is packed, you aren’t merely watching a concert.
You’re in it.
The Photographer’s Classroom
Someone once told me that if I wanted to become a better photographer, I needed to challenge myself by putting myself in difficult shooting situations.
89 North became one of those classrooms.
When I first began photographing there, the lighting was essentially what it was. I had to learn to work with it rather than expect it to work for me.
I was eventually told that the sound man was responsible for running the house PA, the stage monitors and the lighting console.
Think about that for a moment.
One person was responsible for making sure the band sounded good for the audience while also handling what was happening visually on stage.
As someone jokingly explained it to me:
“Do you want the band to sound good, or look good?”
For the people who paid to hear the band, there was really only one correct answer.
And honestly, that’s how it should be.
My job as a photographer was to adapt.
I couldn’t always wait for the perfect lighting cue. I had to anticipate moments, understand where I could position myself, work with whatever light was available and make the most of it.
Those challenges forced me to become a better photographer.
Sometimes the best photography lessons don’t happen in perfectly controlled environments.
Sometimes they happen when the lights aren’t exactly where you want them.
The Faces Behind The Music
Over the years, 89 North became a place where I had the opportunity to photograph an incredible variety of musicians.
Among the tribute and cover acts I’ve photographed there are Generals Gathered, Shoot 2 Thrill, Bad Animals, Sticky Sweet, Rock of Ages, Refugee, NY to Boston, Live After Death and others.
Then there are artists such as The Iron Maidens, a nationally recognized and touring tribute to Iron Maiden. They aren’t simply another local tribute act; they’ve built a reputation that extends well beyond Long Island.
I’ve also had the opportunity to photograph musicians such as Joel Hoekstra and Brandon Gibbs, demonstrating another side of what 89 North brings to its stage.
And then there is Emerald Rising.
Although several members of Emerald Rising are also members of Bad Animals, Emerald Rising is an original-music project. That distinction is important because it demonstrates just how broad the musical landscape at 89 North can be.
It’s not simply a tribute-band venue.
It’s a place where musicians can step onto a stage and be themselves, whether they’re performing original material, recreating the music of legendary artists or bringing a nationally recognized tribute show to Patchogue.
Generals Gathered and Tony Garofalo
One of the musicians who stands out from my time at 89 North is Tony Garofalo, whom I first met when he brought his Black Sabbath tribute, Generals Gathered, to the stage.
Tony had the sound.
He had the look.
And he certainly had the rock-and-roll attitude.
With his Gibson SG in hand, he looked every bit the rock star, and that guitar sounded incredible.
He was simply fun to watch—and even more fun to photograph.
Tony was impressed with the images I produced for him, and what began as another night with my camera became another connection within the Long Island music community.
As I would later learn, Tony’s relationship with 89 North went considerably deeper. He was a part owner of the venue for a period of time, making him part of the story behind the stage as well as someone who performed on it.
And Tony certainly doesn’t sit still.
He’s one of the founding members of Strawberry Fields, the Beatles tribute, and also plays guitar with NY to Boston.
He’s one of those musicians who always seems to have something happening.
Tony is also representative of something I’ve come to appreciate about Long Island’s music community: the people you meet at one show often turn up somewhere completely different the next time you see them.
A Stage Bigger Than My Camera
Obviously, I haven’t photographed every artist who has walked through the doors of 89 North—and realistically, nobody could.
Over the years, the venue has welcomed artists whose careers extend well beyond Long Island. I’ve had the opportunity to photograph nationally recognized artists such as Jake E. Lee and Indigenous, while acts such as L.A. Guns have also appeared on the 89 North stage. The venue continues to demonstrate that its intimate size doesn’t prevent it from attracting established touring artists.
Jake E. Lee was particularly meaningful to me because I had previously met him in Fort Lauderdale. Seeing him again at 89 North and having the opportunity to photograph him was another one of those unexpected connections that this journey has provided.
Indigenous was even more personal.
I had previously photographed them at B.B. King’s in New York City, and being Native American myself, having the opportunity to photograph them again at 89 North—and actually meet them—was something I genuinely felt honored to experience.
It was more than simply another assignment with my camera.
It was an opportunity to support artists whose music and heritage carried a significance that was personal to me.
And that’s another reason I don’t want to suggest that my experience represents the entire history of 89 North.
I haven’t photographed every major artist who has appeared there. I couldn’t possibly.
What I can share is the part of that history that I’ve experienced myself.
And that’s really what Long Island Stages is about.
More Than A Photograph
Over the years, I’ve been fortunate enough to become friends with members of virtually all of these bands.
The exception is The Iron Maidens, although I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know Nikki Stringfield.
That distinction may sound insignificant, but to me it isn’t.
When I first started bringing my camera into 89 North, I thought my job was simply to photograph the band.
Get the shots.
Go home.
Edit them.
Publish them.
Move on to the next show.
But somewhere along the way, that changed.
I wasn’t simply documenting shows anymore.
I was getting to know the people making the music.
The musicians became friends.
The venue personnel became familiar faces.
And the audience became people I recognized from one show to the next.
That is something I never expected when I first walked through those doors with a half-dead camera battery.
More Than Just A Venue
Looking back, 89 North played a much bigger role in my evolution as a concert photographer than I realized at the time.
It was one of the places where I learned how to work in challenging lighting.
It was where I discovered bands I might otherwise never have encountered.
It was where I began developing relationships with musicians.
And it was one of the places where Long Island Sounds began to feel less like a Facebook page with photographs and more like a community.
There are larger theaters on Long Island.
There are venues with more seats, bigger productions and elaborate stages.
But 89 North isn’t trying to be any of those things.
And perhaps that’s exactly why it works.
It’s intimate.
It’s accessible.
It’s loud.
It’s personal.
The band is close enough that you can see the expressions on their faces. The audience is close enough to become part of the performance. And for someone standing in front of the stage with a camera, there is very little separating you from the moment you’re trying to capture.
That’s what I think makes a great music venue.
Not necessarily how many people it can hold.
Not how impressive the building looks.
But how it feels when the lights go down and the band walks onto the stage.
For me, 89 North feels like home.
And maybe that’s because somewhere along the way, I stopped being someone who simply came there to photograph a band.
I became part of the neighborhood.
And it all started with a Facebook page, a Fleetwood Mac tribute, and a camera battery that I probably should have charged.
Long Island Sounds 