It seemed like a nice enough day for a boat trip along the Chicago River.
A bright pink, rented kayak in tow, local Cindy Juhasz took to the water with her husband and friend last year. It’s something they did often, but this time was different.
“We were on the river and we heard music, and we all got goosebumps and we’re like, ‘What is this?’” Juhasz says. “We literally followed the sound, and we couldn’t believe what we were seeing.”
In front of them was a large dolphin—a floating, cement structure typically used for anchoring boats.
On top of the dolphin: a full band.
“It’s about, I dunno, eight feet up? And then you get one guy in the boat, one guy on the ladder, one guy on top receiving, and then pass the gear up,” says dolphin-stage brainchild Ben Kinsinger.
‘Just a Random Bridge’
Kinsinger’s “sad cowboy song” group, Lawrence Tome, has been hosting what he calls “secret river shows” for several years. Discoverable by latitude and longitude coordinates, the shows have grown from a few friend-fans to a venue of sorts where music acts across genres appear.
“It’s pretty epic. It’s a whole crowd of folks that are 20, 30 feet out in front of you and there’s a body of water in between. At one of these shows, there’s probably 30-plus kayaker/canoe people out on the water, and other bigger boats,” Kinsinger says. “And it’s surreal. It’s just a random bridge that nothing ever happens at, and suddenly it’s filled with hundreds of people.”
Kinsinger happened upon the river-crossing bridge and underpass maybe four years ago and, like a true artist, thought: Why not?
The shows are collecting community with every gig, Chicagoan Sara Geist says: All sorts of folks show up; an artist has painted a mural on the dolphin; even a barber makes the occasional appearance and offers haircuts (just don’t bob your head too much, OK?)
“I think of it as sort of an important third space. You can kind of always count on there being a secret river show over any weekend in the summer now. And if you go, there are going to be friends there and cool bands … it just feels like this really special part of the community that you can rely on now,” says Geist, who is gearing up to perform at a July 5 show.
Creative Care for a River
Over a century ago, Chicago used the river as a means of runoff. Around 1900, the river’s flow was actually reversed to mitigate environmental impacts. But Chicagoans still battle runoff and pollution, especially during periods of rain.
“In the city, it’s like, ‘Don’t get in the river. It’s gross.’ But it’s not,” Kinsinger says. “I love the river … It still has that desire, I feel, to be just a natural river and it has the possibility of doing it, if we can get people organized around caring.”
Next month, Lawrence Tome will do that the way it knows best, but better: through a river band parade with a slew of performers, pontoons, and buoyant stages.
Because if the river moves and changes, so can its future—with electric guitars and drum kits floating with it.