A man and a guitar bring an otherwise busy room to a standstill. People say rock and roll is dead. I say the kegger is dead—well maybe not dead, but damn boring.
No beer pong here. No Guitar Hero. No red solo cups. No (celebrated) binge drinking. Just a small house. About 80 people. Lots of music. No set structure. No fuss. Something different.
What I experienced is referred to as a Wonka House party, held at the home of Christopher Luxem, Topeka senior, and Kent Szauderbach, Wichita sophomore. The party gets its name from the physical build of their house.The house is a straight shot.You can see from one end to the other,and as you walk through,the ceiling slopes and—over the span of four rooms—drops three feet. No two
door frames are alike—there are five different kinds of wood paneling—it's got that Willy Wonka feel.
The party gives people the space for a night to listen to and play live music. The event has no structure and everyone is welcome to play, including the audience members who are supplied with various auxiliary percussion such as shakers and tambourines, which lie about the house.
Photo by Ryan Waggoner
Mellow out, dude; Tyler Gregory, Lawrence resident, performs "Ain't No Sunshine" for a crowd at the Wonka House on January 18. A wide range of musical acts and welcoming atmosphere drew a crowd of around 18 to the house that evening.
"There's no reason that we all can't work together and achieve this mass counterculture," Luxem says. "A counterculture that celebrates life, celebrates experiencing our senses and enjoying ourselves through music and visual experience."
FOR THE WATCHERS
12
February 12,2009
When I entered the party, the house was vacant enough to actually walk around in it. About a dozen people were already there, but within an hour and a half, at about 10:30 p.m., close to 80 people packed in the two-bedroom house. No one was collecting money at the door, and the traveling musicians earned gas money by passing around a hat after a set.
I watched four different performers' sets spanning acoustic folk to full band pop. Every set involved a give-and-take with the audience. Performers opened their occasionally clenched eyes making eye contact with the audience—made some of them blush, made some of them sing along. There wasn't a feeling of,"I'm here to entertain you." It was a feeling of,"Oh, you like this too?"
Even after the house filled up, it was so quiet you could hear the appliances in the kitchen. The sets performed were at a comfortable listening level. In the background one could hear the slow hum of the fridge and the sink running in a bathroom two rooms over. It was packed, but intimate.
"It's much more, 'Here's my music. Let's have a night,'" says Andrew Frederick, Shawnee junior, and singer and drummer for Frederick and the Six Angry Telephones."We'll have a night and we will remember the night. We have many passing nights in the Wonka House, I guess you'd say."
It's less of a concert to the audience and more of an event, a happening; something participatory that pulls you in. It's not that underground. It's not that weird. It's just people having a good time.