Today marks the sixteenth anniversary of a tragic nightclub fire in Rhode Island.
At the time of the event, I remember being dumbfounded about how such a tragedy could occur in the modern era. In the weeks and months that followed, the investigation made it clear that the fire was a disaster just waiting to happen. The manner in which the conflagration began was highly controversial, but it could've just as easily been caused by an overloaded extension cord, faulty wiring, or an improperly-discarded cigarette butt.
Last weekend, I played a gig where the band had to load into a multistory building by freight elevator. After arriving on the designated floor, we had to traverse several long, dimly-lit corridors to arrive at the performance space. We set up, did our sound check, and then everyone but me converged upon the buffet that had been set up for the band and crew. My priority was not nourishment, but rather finding a way out of the building that differed from the way we came into it. In my wanderings, I saw just two illuminated "EXIT" signs, and neither were helpful in determining the location of the nearest stairwells. I finally asked an employee. Call me paranoid, but the need for self-preservation is hard-wired into most advanced organisms. Fortunately, the gig went off without a hitch, but I felt better knowing that I had a plan in reserve.
My point here is: Be aware of your surroundings at all times. As a musician, in the event of an emergency, the way you loaded into the venue may not be the best way out. As a concert-goer, your view of the stage might not always be the best criteria in selecting your seats.
At the time of the event, I remember being dumbfounded about how such a tragedy could occur in the modern era. In the weeks and months that followed, the investigation made it clear that the fire was a disaster just waiting to happen. The manner in which the conflagration began was highly controversial, but it could've just as easily been caused by an overloaded extension cord, faulty wiring, or an improperly-discarded cigarette butt.
Last weekend, I played a gig where the band had to load into a multistory building by freight elevator. After arriving on the designated floor, we had to traverse several long, dimly-lit corridors to arrive at the performance space. We set up, did our sound check, and then everyone but me converged upon the buffet that had been set up for the band and crew. My priority was not nourishment, but rather finding a way out of the building that differed from the way we came into it. In my wanderings, I saw just two illuminated "EXIT" signs, and neither were helpful in determining the location of the nearest stairwells. I finally asked an employee. Call me paranoid, but the need for self-preservation is hard-wired into most advanced organisms. Fortunately, the gig went off without a hitch, but I felt better knowing that I had a plan in reserve.
My point here is: Be aware of your surroundings at all times. As a musician, in the event of an emergency, the way you loaded into the venue may not be the best way out. As a concert-goer, your view of the stage might not always be the best criteria in selecting your seats.
