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It’s an impressive commitment to the environment, and to other social causes, that Larry Bloch brought to a Chinese-food warehouse in a most unglamorous corner of downtown Manhattan.
When Bloch took over the space in 1989 and established his own business, he incorporated into his business plan an expenditure for the not-for-profit Activism Center that he established at the same time. Bloch says he considered the expense in the same way he thought of rent and office supplies — as something that needed to be paid, no matter what.
During off-hours for the primary business, the space was available for various left-leaning organizations. When Bloch sold his business in the late ‘90s, the deal included a stipulation that the new owner would continue to fund the Activism Center. Bloch even gave his operation the unlikely but appropriate name, Wetlands Preserve.
The primary business of the Wetlands was not ecological, but musical. The Wetlands was a funky, tie-dyed and notoriously sweaty live-music club that was instrumental in launching the jam-band scene. While the club, which hosted its last performance Sept. 10, 2001, welcomed hard-core ska and hip-hop, and can boast of being the first New York venue played by Pearl Jam and Rage Against the Machine, it was first and foremost a place for the hippies and the post-Grateful Dead scene. Phish, Gov’t Mule, moe., and the Dave Matthews Band all played there in their early years; Wetlands was practically a second home for the New York-based Blues Traveler.
As told in the documentary “Wetlands Preserved: The Story of an Activist Rock Club,” Bloch’s musical endeavor was as noble an effort as were his social causes. Just getting the club up and running was a task; the space he found, well-removed in both location and amenities from any of New York’s entertainment hot-spots at the time, was a scourge for neighbors. And while New York’s reputation is for being the city that never sleeps, these were the Giuliani years, when loud, funky and smoky were being systematically shipped off to the outer boroughs. Preserving Wetlands as a music spot required constantly fending off neighbors and city inspectors.
Bloch, the recipient of family wealth, clearly wasn’t in it for the money; the musicians once threw a benefit for the club itself, to ensure they’d have a place to play. The capacity of Wetlands was officially just short of 400, though it was common to squeeze twice that number in. (In one of the film’s more humorous moments, it’s pointed out that the number of tickets sold had to do not so much with a particular band’s popularity, but the body-size of its audience. Gov’t Mule, which attracted hefty bikers, could fit far fewer bodies than a ska show, which drew skinnier fans.)
“Wetlands Preserved,” directed by Dean Budnick, the senior editor of the music-oriented Relix magazine, tells the story with maximum affection. (Note that the DVD release date is today, Earth Day.) Musicians, former employees, Bloch himself — and even one neighbor who was firmly opposed to the club, and finally persuaded to see it as a neighborhood amenity — line up to tell of unforgettable nights, the insane measures taken to keep the club going, and the ancient VW van inside the club that served as the merchandise stand. (It is on exhibit at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.)
These recollections, funny and vivid, raise the film above the realm of a vanity project. (The film’s producer is Peter Shapiro, the young man with an endearingly innocent look who bought the club from Bloch.) The visual element (psychedelic, of course, but not in a dated, ‘60s style), the wise-cracking characters (especially Blues Traveler’s John Popper), the wealth of vintage footage, and the broad range of perspectives are all commendable.
And the sound track, naturally, is outstanding.
stewart@aspentimes.com
When Bloch took over the space in 1989 and established his own business, he incorporated into his business plan an expenditure for the not-for-profit Activism Center that he established at the same time. Bloch says he considered the expense in the same way he thought of rent and office supplies — as something that needed to be paid, no matter what.
During off-hours for the primary business, the space was available for various left-leaning organizations. When Bloch sold his business in the late ‘90s, the deal included a stipulation that the new owner would continue to fund the Activism Center. Bloch even gave his operation the unlikely but appropriate name, Wetlands Preserve.
The primary business of the Wetlands was not ecological, but musical. The Wetlands was a funky, tie-dyed and notoriously sweaty live-music club that was instrumental in launching the jam-band scene. While the club, which hosted its last performance Sept. 10, 2001, welcomed hard-core ska and hip-hop, and can boast of being the first New York venue played by Pearl Jam and Rage Against the Machine, it was first and foremost a place for the hippies and the post-Grateful Dead scene. Phish, Gov’t Mule, moe., and the Dave Matthews Band all played there in their early years; Wetlands was practically a second home for the New York-based Blues Traveler.
As told in the documentary “Wetlands Preserved: The Story of an Activist Rock Club,” Bloch’s musical endeavor was as noble an effort as were his social causes. Just getting the club up and running was a task; the space he found, well-removed in both location and amenities from any of New York’s entertainment hot-spots at the time, was a scourge for neighbors. And while New York’s reputation is for being the city that never sleeps, these were the Giuliani years, when loud, funky and smoky were being systematically shipped off to the outer boroughs. Preserving Wetlands as a music spot required constantly fending off neighbors and city inspectors.
Bloch, the recipient of family wealth, clearly wasn’t in it for the money; the musicians once threw a benefit for the club itself, to ensure they’d have a place to play. The capacity of Wetlands was officially just short of 400, though it was common to squeeze twice that number in. (In one of the film’s more humorous moments, it’s pointed out that the number of tickets sold had to do not so much with a particular band’s popularity, but the body-size of its audience. Gov’t Mule, which attracted hefty bikers, could fit far fewer bodies than a ska show, which drew skinnier fans.)
“Wetlands Preserved,” directed by Dean Budnick, the senior editor of the music-oriented Relix magazine, tells the story with maximum affection. (Note that the DVD release date is today, Earth Day.) Musicians, former employees, Bloch himself — and even one neighbor who was firmly opposed to the club, and finally persuaded to see it as a neighborhood amenity — line up to tell of unforgettable nights, the insane measures taken to keep the club going, and the ancient VW van inside the club that served as the merchandise stand. (It is on exhibit at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.)
These recollections, funny and vivid, raise the film above the realm of a vanity project. (The film’s producer is Peter Shapiro, the young man with an endearingly innocent look who bought the club from Bloch.) The visual element (psychedelic, of course, but not in a dated, ‘60s style), the wise-cracking characters (especially Blues Traveler’s John Popper), the wealth of vintage footage, and the broad range of perspectives are all commendable.
And the sound track, naturally, is outstanding.
stewart@aspentimes.com
