“Obviously, at first, music and libraries seems like a head-scratcher because libraries are quiet,” says local promoter, artist manager and record-label owner Jim Thomson. But for the past six months, Thomson has been helping change expectations about what goes on inside D.C.’s public libraries.

On behalf of scrappy theater nonprofit Capital Fringe, Thomson has been programming “Fringe Music in the Library,” one of two series bringing live music to the D.C. Public Library system. The other series is strictly punk rock, presented by the library’s D.C. Punk Archive. DCPL has been hosting those noisy gigs since October 2014 to help promote its growing collection of D.C. punk ephemera. The latest show takes place downtown tonight — with D.C. bands Give, Puff Pieces and The Maneuvers — then Friday it’s back to Thomson, who’s bringing in D.C.’s CooLots under the Capital Fringe banner.

For the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library — D.C.’s central library downtown — these shows help it build a reputation as a cultural center. It’s a rebranding for a facility that’s been dogged by systemwide budget cuts and criticism of its Brutalist architecture. (The District is planning to overhaul MLK Library in two years and add an auditorium.) DCPL has also had to confront complaints from residents who openly — many would say crudely — gripe about homeless residents who utilize the library’s amenities. Then there’s the bigger picture: Libraries all over the world are facing questions about their role in the 21st century. Could it be prudent to focus on libraries not just as information warehouses, but cultural beacons?

“One of our primary goals is to establish the library as a go-to place for local culture.” —Linnea Hegarty, executive director of the D.C. Public Library Foundation

Linnea Hegarty, the executive director of the D.C. Public Library Foundation, seems to think so. She says the foundation covers the costs of both D.C. Public Library concert series — including fees to the bands — and says they’re now funded through 2016. “One of our primary goals is to establish the library as a go-to place for local culture,” Hegarty writes via email.

Capital Fringe is best known for its annual performing-arts event, the Fringe Festival. But last year, under Julianne Brienza’s leadership, the organization hired Thomson to take over music-booking at the festival, then asked him to handle the eclectic library shows she had set into motion. Those events overlapped with the D.C. Punk Archive’s basement shows, which Martin Luther King Jr. Library music librarian Maggie Gilmore says were “designed to increase attention to and support of the D.C. Punk Archive,” its ongoing effort to document the District’s three-chord rock scene.

Michele Casto, one of the librarians who helped get the D.C. Punk Archive off the ground, says DCPL wants to show that the punk archive isn’t just about long-gone history.

“Having shows that feature current local bands helps reiterate the point that the archive is 1976 to the present, that we’re documenting local music that’s happening now not just local music of the past,” Casto writes in an email.

The punk gigs also aim to support the next generation of D.C. musicians. “For every show, we’ve tried to include a band that’s either just getting started, or that consists of kids — i.e. bands that might have a hard time getting a gig in a club,” Casto writes. “This gives them a place to get experience performing.”

The punk shows take place every other month and have included raucous performances from Joy Buttons, Hemlines, Flamers and Priests. Under Thomson, the Fringe gigs have dabbled in punk, too — roping in punk provocateur Ian Svenonius multiple times — but they’ve prized diversity, bringing in the rarely seen soul singer George Smallwood, Afropop vocalist Anna Mwalagho, jazz/poetry act Heroes Are Gang Leaders and the Ethiopian Jazz Quartet with Feedel Band‘s Araya Woldemichael.

“I hope that the citizens will come in and get inspired by seeing an Ethiopian jazz quintet and go, ‘Wow,'” Thomson says.

Some younger residents, it seems, have already found that inspiration. When guitarist Anthony Pirog performed at the downtown library with his surf band, The El Reys, librarians projected the film Endless Summer while kids bopped around. They were “dancing and bouncing around wildly, full of excitement for the music,” Gilmore emails. “That put a smile on everyone’s face.”

Now, if only more people would come to the shows.

Woldemichael guesses that at his recent library gig, “50 percent of them were curious folks and the rest were my friends, family members and fans.” Thomson acknowledges that a recent performance at the Benning Road library only brought a handful of people. “The branch libraries are a little more challenging to get attendance,” he says. “Mainly location, location, location. It’s hard to get interest in it, or to publicize it.”

The promoter hopes that momentum will build over time. “I know from when you are working with regular venues, you don’t get a slam dunk in the beginning, always,” he says. “You have to plant a seed and let it have a chance to germinate. We are really in a very early stage.”

Meanwhile, artists seem appreciative of the series’ benevolent mission — even if the room doesn’t fill up.

“Heroes Are Gang Leaders really felt that this performance [at Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library] was a special opportunity to reach out to and interact with longtime D.C. residents, amidst the city’s advanced stages of gentrification, displacement and widespread oppression of many Washingtonians,” band member Luke Stewart writes in an email.

Plus, it gives residents a chance to absorb culture — for free — that they wouldn’t normally come across, Thomson says. In a way, that’s the role of a library in the first place.

“For me, the side benefit is to go into libraries that are in parts of the city that are not part of my everyday life,” the promoter says. “It helps you interact with the city. I like to see these different things that makes the city as an organism come to life.”

Give, Puff Pieces and The Maneuvers play the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Library at 6 p.m. June 11. The CooLots play at noon on June 12. For a complete schedule of Capital Fringe concerts at D.C.’s libraries, consult this calendar. The Punk Archive basement shows are usually publicized on the D.C. Public Library’s Facebook page.

Top photo courtesy of Jim Thomson

Moderated by Vox Executive Editor Matt Yglesias (who’s written about D.C.‘s economic disincentives for artists), it found performer and writer Holly Bass, ex-Fugazi drummer Brendan Canty, and Transformer gallery co-founder Victoria Reis expressing familiar concerns about creativity’s chances in gentrifying D.C.

“As we go through the process of bulldozing the city, let’s just leave a little bit for the artists,” Canty said.

Every time another alternative art space closes, it seems to confirm that small plates have supplanted underground arts in this town. But while it’s clear that development and rising property values have deeply impacted the arts community, DIY venues have always come and gone in D.C. Sometimes, gentrification is to blame. Other times, it’s a different story.

Take the late Bobby Fisher Memorial Building, which closed when its tenants reportedly couldn’t renegotiate a lease with their landlord. Basement spot Subterranean A stopped doing shows when its residents decided to move on or move out. Casa Fiesta’s management curbed its punk and metal shows, saying loud music drove away customers.

Meanwhile, D.C. DIY has sprouted branches. The ethos of “DIT” (Do It Together)—a more community-focused take on DIY—is catching on here, evident in the Brightest Young Things column written by Paperhaus’ Alex Tebeleff, in addition to plans for the first In It Together Festival. Local alternative music spaces continue to open. Some of them crop up in people’s houses (like The Dougout and Ft. Loko)—but more “official” alternative spaces exist here, too.

How are they doing, and what are they doing right?

To find out, I talked to the people behind two of those spaces, Union Arts and Back Alley Theater.

Union Arts
Located inside a gray, blocky building on New York Avenue NE, Union Arts has become one of the busiest DIY venues in the city. Its tenants hope it remains that way for a while—even though the building it occupies may be sold soon.

As reported by Washington City Paper last year, after artist hangout Gold Leaf Studios (formerly The Hosiery) shut down in 2012, a core group of members—including owner Mike Abrams—founded Union Arts in the old Warehouse Loft space at 411 New York Ave. NE. Since then, it’s offered relatively affordable studios and concert space to its renters. Its events are now run mostly by musician Luke Stewart, who says that shows are somewhat of a bonus for the space.

“Even though we have shows here, that’s not our primary focus,” he says.

Union Arts hosts events almost every week, but the shows don’t have to make money. The space is paid for by the artists who rent studios there.

Stewart values the diverse artistic output that Union Arts facilitates. Studio members are in charge of booking or approving events, resulting in a wide range of shows, from experimental jazz to hardcore punk to sufi and ambient music. Studio members hold biweekly meetings and maintain email threads about shows and an internal event calendar. Union Arts is also on its way to becoming a nonprofit, he says.

“The way to be sustainable is to organize, get your [act] together,” said Stewart. “When you start there, you can talk about how to sustain. Otherwise you’re flying blind.”

There’s an element of luck here, too. Unlike spaces in more residential areas, Union Arts dwells in a warehouse district, where gentrification and noise-averse neighbors don’t pose a constant threat. The building rests in a commercial and light manufacturing zone. (Union Arts is also known as Union Arts & Manufacturing.)

But 411 New York Ave. NE has been on the market for more than two years now, says its owner, Gail Harris. (Asking price: $7.5 million.) A contract is now being negotiated with a potential buyer, whom Harris says intends to maintain the building as it is, at least in the short term.

Back Alley Theater
Union Arts isn’t the only large D.C. DIY space that doesn’t double as a living room. Back Alley Theater occupies a wide basement of a resident-owned apartment building on Kennedy Street NW in Brightwood. It’s operated by Amanda Huron and Layne Garrett, longtime D.C. musicians and members of the experimental band Weed Tree.

Back Alley Theater goes back decades, according to a history on its website. First a theater company, it started out of a house in Mt. Pleasant in 1967 and later bounced around: to St. Stephen’s Church on Newton Street NW, then Capitol Hill, then finally to Kennedy Street in 1969. Over 20 years there, it staged politically charged plays by Amiri Baraka and others, but quieted down for nearly two decades. Members of the building’s Madison Terrace Cooperative revived the space as an events center a few years ago.

Huron says residents have been excited to have arts events in the building again, and they haven’t complained about noise from concerts and other happenings in the space. She ensured that the space could operate legitimately, obtaining a certificate of occupancy and a capacity placard from the District.

“People are obsessive about wanting a space,” Huron says. “But when you get that space, there’s a [lot] of work that goes into maintaining it.”

The night after the arts panel at MLK Library, Back Alley Theater is getting ready to host a lineup of avant-garde and jazz artists. Garrett and Huron are prepping. Residents come down to greet Huron while Garrett arranges chairs and offers to set up the P.A. The equipment and furniture were purchased with money from the D.C. Diversity Fund.

Huron hangs up a modest sign outside the door with the venue’s name. It’s not glamorous, but that’s never been the point of putting on these shows.

Her and Garrett’s longtime involvement in D.C.’s experimental-music scene might afford them a more optimistic outlook on DIY spaces. Artists who stick around here long enough would begin to see a pattern: when spaces close, there’s a good chance another one is right around the corner.

“There’s a lot of nostalgia for the old days, which can get fetishized,” says Huron. “Some spaces have to die for other spaces to live.”