Reflections from the Stage
A photo essay of Salt and Steel
Happy Friday! I know I just posted yesterday, and this week of shares are a bit out of sync. Thank you for understanding. The other night at my mom’s birthday show, she paused during a song for some water and said, ‘I need a moment. Something I’ve learned is when you need a moment, take it.’ She also said, ‘my version of rock ‘n roll is one where you’re allowed to f*** up as often as you need to.’ Both of these made me so proud, and reminded me of the lessons I’ve learned through my mom and the band and crew, this family I was born into as any other. So while I might still be getting my footing with the scheduling of weekly Substack posts, and while I might need to take a moment or I might falter here and there, you can know that I am still here, and we will always pick up where we left off before.
Salt and Steel
As I mentioned in a previous post ‘Numbers and Legacies,’ my mom and her band have historically always played 3 shows at the end of the year, December 29, December 30 (her birthday), and December 31, New Year’s Eve. A few years ago they took the New Year’s Eve show off the annual calendar, but they added in December 27, Lenny’s birthday. So the shows remained a fleet of celebratory dates, this wonderful thread between Christmas and New Years, where we all could count on seeing each other, exchanging gifts and hugs, laughing and talking under the umbrella of focused work - our own brand of holiday gathering before the year’s end.
This year the shows were December 27 in Chicago, where my mom was born, and December 29 and 30 at Brooklyn Steel, same as last year and the one before. As always, our friends and family joined from near and far, new friends and old friends, familiar regulars and new faces.
The Chicago show was at The Salt Shed, a new venue that just opened in 2022, and served as the Morton Salt facility for almost 100 years. I loved that because it reminded me of my Grandma, (my mom’s mom) as I always associate the iconic packaging of the ‘Morton Salt girl’ with memories of her and the classic decorations of her kitchen in New Jersey. I’ve been thinking of her a lot lately, and it’s nice to be reminded of her in unexpected ways and in unexpected places. It was a perfect hello since we were passing through the town where her own daughter was born, where she became a mother herself.
Looking at the map while we were there, I felt a little sad to be so close to Michigan without hopping over for a visit, though it was also grounding and comforting somehow to know it was so physically near. It’s nice how the place where Jackson and I were born is so close to where my mom was born, and my Dad was born in West Virginia, just a couple hops away. I was also happy to be in Chicago as I got to spend some time with my cousin who I don’t get to see very often. He took me to a Chicago Bulls Game at the United Center the evening we arrived, and our faces ended up on the Jumbotron!! Has that ever happened to you?? That was a bran new experience for both of us, definitely surreal and exciting. A memory to keep for a lifetime.
Arriving at The Salt Shed was so nice, seeing everyone together, the band and crew, catching up after the holidays, spending time with my brother. Listening to the band.
‘Chicago! The place of my birth!’ - PS
My mom sounded strong, the band played great, and the crowd, ‘the people’ as my mom says, over 3000 people, had loving and boundless energy, singing and dancing throughout the show, welcoming and celebratory. And of course, as tradition, we sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to dear Lenny and brought a cake onstage for him. The year of 77.
After the show, Tracey, the lighting designer, arranged a gathering at a spot where his band The Waco Brothers were playing, inviting Lenny onstage to do a few songs for continued birthday celebration. I sang his song, ‘Crazy Like a Fox’ as an excited audience member, not having heard it live since we played it together at my birthday show in 2017. It was fun and joyful, and I’m sure we all felt like locals.
The next day we made our way back to NYC to get ready for the Brooklyn shows.
These shows are deeply special and significant to me, and always have been. At some point I will write and share more in depth about what these end of year shows and all the shows throughout the years have meant for me - my mom’s performance and stage presence, the band, the crew. I have written at various times a little about all these things, about all that I have learned and experienced through touring and traveling, through production and performing, and how the meaning has changed over the decades. I will write and share more and I will go more deeply into it all. I look forward to doing that, to really spending some serious quality time in reflection, processing everything, moments and memories, lessons and life long friendships. I’m not quite ready at the present to delve into it as completely as I will in the future, but now I want to highlight some nice and special moments from these recent shows, and share some beautiful pictures captured by our talented photographer friends.
My mom called this trio of shows, ‘Salt and Steel,’ named for the venues. Weeks before in November, she wrote everyone’s names in her beautiful handwriting with her inkwell and pen. We made a small batch of t-shirts printed on vintage black fabric for steel and vintage white fabric for salt. We also made another shirt printed on those same colors with our dear friend Steven Sebring’s photo of the band backstage in Cincinatti. Our friend Rich screen printed them by hand for us in Brooklyn.
I loved standing over my mom’s shoulder watching her process, seeing her hand flow so nicely. It reminded me of when I stood over her shoulder in the same way watching her write the wording for the cover of my song in 2019. She has such a strong focus in everything she does. It’s always authentic, and always this mix of power and delicate grace. Not delicate as in frail, but delicate like a spiderweb. It’s strong, intricate, occasionally urgent, with planning and craftsmanship behind it. Like a piece of fine hand painted china. Looking at this picture, I can hear the nib of her pen. I love the sound of writing - of her writing, like an extension of her speaking and singing voice.
There are so many moments during these shows that I look forward to and hold special to my heart. Singing harmonies on the side of the stage with Barre. The instrumental section of Southern Cross and my brother’s guitar solo. When the lights come up and the audience put their hands in the air. Moments of communication between the band. Funny moments, serious moments, moments when I laugh or cry.
Stories in between. Songs like Pissing in a River or Free Money or Ain’t It Strange when the vocal comes back in and my mom’s voice sounds stronger than ever before.
The nights were full as they always are, with beautiful remembrances and tributes. My mom read an english translation of the Italian aria, Vissi d'arte in honor of Maria Callas for her 100th birthday celebrated on December 2. The white screen behind the stage changed every song with a different image - of friends, family, places, people. Tom Verlaine during Guiding Light. A friendly captain. Cupid and Psyche. A rose.
My Dad during Because the Night and People Have the Power. He is always with us.
Each night the band also did two special tributes to Shane MacGowan who died on November 30, and whose birthday is Christmas Day. Tony sang a version of ‘Dirty Old Town,’ with a photo of Shane projected on the screen, and during Southern Cross, which my mom dedicated to both Shane and Sinead O’Connor, Jackson and Tony played an instrumental bit of ‘Fairytale of New York,’ which brought tears to my eyes. It was so heartwarming and beautiful, especially tucked within the energy and message of Southern Cross, as my mom says before the song begins, ‘‘as we think about death, we sing a song of life and remembrance’.’
Each night during Southern Cross, sharing words of urgency with the crowd in this powerful moment, hands raised collectively in the air. In Chicago she called to the audience, ‘Raise your arms. Feel your freedom. We are free, people. People. We must be diligent. We must rise up. We must unify. For the sake of our planet, for the sake of our future, for the sake of our children, for the sake of our peace. For the sake of our f***ing freedom!’ - PS
Mommy’s Birthday
My mom turned 77 on December 30, and watching her onstage, with more energy than one could imagine having at any age, I felt proud and inspired, as everyone else did, too, I’m sure. She has special power. Her ability to tap into the energy of the crowd and give to them exactly what they are needing. She has a great sense of humor, witty and sharp, and gives so much of herself. She deserves 500 birthday cakes.
Our dear friend Steven Sebring took another really great video of this ‘happy birthday’ moment you can find here on his page, but I wanted to include this other one from Janine Bub because you can see us all onstage together. Here is another fun moment:
And a few more:
Yesterday I researched the symbolisms of both salt and steel. I knew there would be many meanings, but I expected to find that salt represents purity and steel stands for strength. I had trouble finding many varied results for steel, as other metals were favored and gone more into depth on. I did find the expected words of ‘strength and invulnerability,’ nods to Superman, and the definition of the word as a verb, ‘to mentally prepare (oneself) to do or face something difficult.’
Here are the results that showed up for salt:
‘In ancient civilizations, salt represented purity, preservation, and incorruptibility— qualities deemed sacred. The reverence for salt stems from its life-sustaining properties, a vital element for human survival.’
‘Salt signifies permanence, loyalty, durability, fidelity, usefulness, value, and purification.’
‘In some cultures, giving salt to a person meant the desire to preserve the relationship whether that be for friendship, family, or romance.’
‘Salt symbolizes new beginnings and a separation from the past.’
‘The salt symbol consists of a large, unfilled circle, the diameter of which is defined by a solid, horizontal line.’
Salt symbolizes a long-lasting friendship and relationship between people.
Thank you so much for reading this. <3 Thank you to everyone who shared with me their images and videos to include in this post. I wish I could have included more, there are just so many beautiful ones that I will cherish and share with the band and crew. *If I accidentally confused any photo credits, please let me know and I will edit right away.*
Here is a slideshow video by Lynn Goldsmith
Some more pictures by Karen Sheinheit
And some by Leah Bouchier-Hayes
And a mix of pics and footage from Brandon Dinklage
And don’t forget a kitty with the setlists and some other fun things
Thank you to all of our family and friends, and thank you with all my heart to the band and crew for everything always. Thank you to my brother, and thank you to my Mama.
Love you all. <3
I am moved beyond words, Jesse…you are an amazing writer. Your words had such depth, love, power. The visuals added to the words…the combination leaves me speechless,,, I love reading your descriptions of the audience response to the show, the comradery of the band members. Your feelings for one another are evident. I especially loved the photo of you and your mom hugging…her joyful expression of love for you touched my heart, deeply. I appreciate the time you took to write this, to insert photos that underlined the emotions expressed by your words. Thank you so much for so generously sharing these moments. Today’s post was a priceless gift. ❤️❤️
Thank you so much, Jessie , for sharing these beautiful photos and videos of the end of the year shows. Loved seeing them all!!!