A Refreshing Conversation with Pete Mason

A teacher and writer living outside Albany, NY, Pete Mason is the Publisher of NYS Music and, through PhanArt, promotes artists and vendors highlighting music-inspired fan creations while supporting The Mockingbird Foundation and Groovesafe. Pete has self published the books The Grateful ABC Book of Letters and The Alphabet Book for Little Phans: From Antelope to Zero with illustrator Ryan Kerrigan, with whom he previously published A Well Traveled Dog, a children's book following the life and travels of his dog Halley. Also, he has self published PhanArt: The Art of the Fans of Phish, Volume 1, Part 1, and Counting Down the Number Line.

I had the pleasure of asking Pete how the PhanArt book came about, how, as promoter of PhanArt, he promotes fan-related artists, how shows can possibly help with mental health symptoms, and so much more.

UZOMAH: Could you share a personal anecdote about how PhanArt started and what has been the most rewarding part of your journey in creating PhanArt?

PETE: Well, I was leaving the last Phish festival, and we all thought it was the final Phish show in Coventry and Vermont. With that, it ended up being a very emotional run of shows. Then, we ended up on a long drive home. All I could do was reminisce about what we would miss, what would be different, and what would be the end. For us, we thought life was about to change quite a bit. It might be the last time we see some of those folks. One of the things I started working on was with art. I knew right away what it was.

U: How did the PhanArt book come about?

P: Well, I collected images of various merchandise that people made in the past and this was all done by folks to afford to stay on tour. I only saw the tip of it. I didn't see it all. So, I immediately started trying to collect it all, not physical items, but just the images. I thought, "All right, I'll put it into a book, do all this." It took a while. After four years, people caught on. People were very open to the book and supportive of it. In the long run, it took some time to compile it and ensure we had everything. When I knew I had enough items, it was what I was looking for. When the amount of art that was coming in that we were still seeking was winding down, and it was getting to a lower number, it was like, okay, so we're at the end of that side of the bell curve. All right, we're good. Let's publish. And that was where we were in 2008.

This led me to eventually start PhanArt shows, designed initially to promote the artists, make them center stage, and give them the focus they needed rather than needing them to be the second banana to the band they're seeing. It became much more about the artist and making a lineup with them on it, making a lineup with them as the draw. This turned out to be where the artists were the draw. And we've stuck very well to that mantra, making sure that the artists are the ones people are coming to see. Not that I'm in town for the band now, but it's like, oh yeah. "What's this over here"? There is some cool music-related art.

U: What has been the most rewarding part of your journey in creating PhanArt?

P: The most rewarding part is seeing artists become small businesses, and small businesses become staples, sustaining folks and enabling them to live their lives without breaking the bank. Some folks go to one show or spend more than just a week, and they make a small life out of it, but they end up with what could have been an opportunity to make it affordable. Nobody can do this for more than a couple of shows when tickets are expensive. And that's a very big aspect to everything, which is that things are getting more expensive, and we need to highlight the small; if we all want to praise small businesses, that's fine, but you need to actually get out there and support them too, instead of just being like, oh, "we got to support small businesses." All that is what makes me happy or satisfied. That's what tells me that I did something successful.

U: What is your most cherished memory within the Phish community?

P: It was a Big Cypress for the millennium. Phish had done something nobody else had done and put on an excellent and remote event. Initially, they were looking into doing it in Syracuse at the Carrier Dome, but I'm glad that didn't happen even though I lived there then. So yeah, that was great because we all got to ring it in perfectly, just as they intended. And occasionally, you hear a little more about it, making it even deeper and more meaningful.

U: How would you describe the art community within music as a whole to someone who has never been to a show, the whole PhanArt experience?

P: It's like a little bit of Comic-Con. It's a lot scene. It's a pop-up art show. It has a temporary aspect; you must be there to see it. It's not going to exist after the show. It's not going to exist the next day or the next week. There'd be no evidence that it was there. That's the experience that I love about that: A temporary autonomous zone of art and everything that's related to Phish culture, vendors, and nonprofits. There's a lot, nothing like you see anywhere else.

U: How can shows help with symptoms of mental illnesses that people would not think of, or how would they help beyond the classroom?

P: There's a level of socialization unique to Phish events. For those who are socially awkward, who were full of anxiety, who are anxious, who are the quiet ones in school, or the ones who were diagnosed with ADHD or autism or depression or anxiety or whatever, they all find a home because Phish has this freeing nature to it because the community's always been welcoming and acceptable, accepting of outsiders. They encourage new folks to come in and try new things. I don't mean drugs; I mean, "Hey, we'll go over here for a bit. Come over. All right, good." And then we'll go to the show—small things that take you off the beaten trail that are not your standard concert fare.

For Phish fans, it's an all-day affair. You don't have to participate all day, but it certainly doesn't hurt because you're not, so what's the downside? And a complete experience and more of a community. It became our safe space in the sense of, "Hey, we can all still look out for each other. Hey, we all risk those silly things". That was wild.

So, in terms of education... I might sit there and open up and start talking about special education. And it's treated like anything else. It's just a conversation. It's just a small thing. It's just a discussion, not a, oh, what's that? I don't like you or what you are dealing with. No, no. Everything's welcoming. Everybody's accepting. It's understanding. And if you're not doing that, you're just marginalizing yourself.

U: As a promoter of PhanArt, you promote other fan-related artists in the community. How do you create a positive network where artists can feel safe to be creative and productive in the spirit of the music?

P: I've created that since the beginning and kept things positive, highlighting artists of any stature. "You need to sell this shirt. If you want to try to do this, all right, let's go." And I'll give them an opportunity that they might not find elsewhere. And in doing so, the focus stays on the artist, not me. I'm not an artist. I don't pretend to be an artist. I don't like to call myself a promoter, but I am. And I just had a positive vibe throughout, really, this entire run that I've had. That's the best way to put it. I've just had a perfect run of keeping it positive and focused on the artists, not me. It shouldn't be about the promoter at any point.

U: You've written several books that revolve around the theme music, from children's books like A Well Traveled Dog, Counting Down the Number Line to kitchen-related ones like PhanFood, to books about PhanArt with PhanArt: The Art of the Fans of Phish. How has music been involved in the vast areas of your life where you're not limited to cross-referencing them, discussing other subjects and themes, and relating to them and the music you love?

P: I mean, some of them, the The alPHabet Book: From Antelope to Zero, came together pretty quickly, and so did the Dead one. Somebody saw the first book and said, "Hey, you should do a Grateful Dead one." I was like, "Oh man, I probably should." I laid down in a hammock, and within 20 minutes, I had most of the book written. I have another one I wrapped up at the beginning of COVID-19, and we got that published by the end of 2020 and I have another one that is in the hopper waiting to be published. It's kind of just like they come a little bit easy channeling ADHD to good use.

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Sometime recently, I read something that ADHD rewards curiosity but not completion. I wondered how to spell the alphabet with Grateful Dead songs called The Grateful Book of Letters. And I got curious, and at the end of that curiosity, it was complete. The next book I'm doing is a Widespread Panic book. I wouldn't be doing it if I weren't a Widespread Panic fan.

The music is inspiring because if it's "on" in the background, I know what will drive and encourage me to move forward. Bringing it back to education, knowing how special ed all students are, knowing how all students are different kinds of learners and some, it's like, "Hey, you got to channel that ADHD, you got to try to do this kind of thing and make a difference." I can take my own experiences to get it to work for me and help others have it work for them. And if I'm doing that in the process of writing a book and getting that book out to people, and they're reading that book to their kid, it's goal met. I've met that goal. It doesn't have to be me saying, "Hey, try and do this." It can be me writing something and saying, "You read it, cool. What do you think?" And then they take whatever they take out of it.

U: What was your first concert, and how did you know you'd attend concerts for the rest of your life?

P: Huey Lewis and the News 1989 at SPAC in Saratoga Springs, and I did not know I would go to concerts for the rest of my life, but that's the first rock concert I went to. I went to the home of the Boston Pops in the Berkshires but for some reason I don't count them as concerts. I went to Tanglewood to see John Williams perform with the Boston Pops and play all these themes, Superman and Star Wars, and all the other scores he wrote. But what about some bands when you went to Disney World when you were five, and you danced to them; how does that not count? Or you were ten or whatever. And they just played two songs and then left. Anyways, I went back and saw him a second time two years later on his next tour, and then I started to get to the end of high school and just wanted to keep going to concerts.

U: In the great divide of how Phish and the Grateful Dead are similar and what makes them different, what about these two bands make them two of the Best Jam and improvisation bands and not just the bands of all time? And what are some key similarities and differences between the Dead and the Phish in their improvisation style and methods?

P: To be a tad bit cynical, and straightforward, I don't find there to be many similarities other than the fact that the band has a following that travels around the country with them, that they don't need radio hits, that they don't need mass marketing, and that they are committed to their fans, committed to touring, and have created fans, a lifestyle around them. So, I find the differences between the bands to be far more than a cursory glance from some pop culture wizard.

U: What makes a great light show that goes with the music, and how would you describe the visual aspects of a show as fine art?

P: Some people close their eyes, half the show Some people keep their eyes open and get tickets specifically so they're dead straight on and can see things straight across the arena or shed. I'm all for that, but I don't want to see that. I can see it from any angle. It's a different thing, created in a way for that. I'm looking at a collage of 13 photos from the Baker's Dozen, all different, and some are taken from different angles, some are a little tilted, some are weird, and it's a feast for the eyes as much as it is for the ears. You don't just go for the music; you go for the light show, and if you're watching it from the couch, you really need to see it. You need to be in the building. Your opinion is nearly moot if you do it this way. Visually, Chris Kuroda has expanded his repertoire to the point where he's lighting the Rio in Vegas, which is insane.

U: How does music act like therapy?

P: It's an escape. It cuts out the noise of your daily life. It brings you to a place that you want to be, that will make you feel like you are in control. You can control your surroundings. You can clear your head. You can see your favorite band or a band that'll play one of your favorite songs. It's therapeutic because it's what we can do for ourselves without much effort or much of an effort or much of stress without stress. Music shouldn't be a stressful experience, and that's what it allows you to do.

You can find Pete on Instagram. Pete’s books can be found on Amazon here.

Additional Contributions made by Pete Mason.

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