By Stephen Palermo, Publications Manager
First things first—Rochester is not New York City, Chicago, or Boston. But much like those iconic megalopolises, it’s jam-packed with all the same stuff. The one thing many people coming to Rochester from outside the Flower City need to understand is that much of what is superficially offered in large cities exists in pockets here.
Sure, there are huge events in huge venues advertised in huge ways. But I suspect there aren’t a ton of Barry Manilow fans reading this. And if they/you are, then sweet, Rochester loves a good Fanilow. It also likes punk-rock vegan kitchens, soft-serve ice cream, polar plunges, Genny Cream Ale, free concerts, and lilacs. Speaking in generalizations, it mostly dislikes film that is not Kodak.
I can only rant on about the stuff I like, so I will avoid the image of Rochester that is often sold in magazines, on websites, and in the media (Kodak; Xerox; faded pictures of Frederick Douglass and Susan B. Anthony; stacks of hamburgers, mac salad, and beans piled into a “garbage plate”).
As somewhat of a music snob, Rochester has been responsible for cultivating my tastes, feeding them, and refining them. I live in a city that brings in jazz darlings like Chris Botti and Diana Krall. I also live in a city where I frequently see avant garde groups like the Vandermark 5 (Chicago), the Brotzmann/Drake Duo (Germany/USA), or the ICP Orchestra (Germany/USA/UK).
The real cultural treasures in Rochester are often hidden, which can be a blessing and a curse. It all depends on who you ask. The smaller venues and dates that go unnoticed by the masses are what I consider the real deal. While some choose to see Interpol, Vampire Weekend, and Arcade Fire at the Armory or Water Street, I’m seeing Melvins, Big Business, and Ken Mode at places like Monty’s Krown and Bug Jar, venues that redefine “intimate.”
Artists have any number of coffeehouses, bars, galleries, and alternative art spaces to show their work, hone their craft, and connect with others who are into the same stuff they are. Networking aside, there is a great deal of exposure to be found for painters, poets, musicians, and filmmakers. On the first Friday of each month, salons, bars, cafes, record stores, and galleries are teeming with people out to see the varied art exhibitions.
As a complete and total cinephile, I sometimes wonder how many cities have a video store as varied as Video Barn. The big cities, sure, but certainly not every town in between. With the advent of Netflix and torrent sites, access to movies is a nonissue—they’re everywhere. A physical location to actually rent movies may mean little to a lot of people. But it means a lot to a city, its people, and its culture. Especially when that shop stocks a near-complete Criterion collection, documentaries not made by Michael Moore, an insane amount of horror and cult titles, and Hollywood blockbusters. Add to the equation the fact that it’s a locally-owned and -operated cinephile’s paradise.
The Dryden Theatre at the George Eastman House is another piece of what makes Rochester what it is. Their calendar is filled every day of the month with screenings and visiting artists. In the last few years alone, I met Crispin Hellion Glover (Back to the Future, River’s Edge, What Is It?), Seymour Cassell (virtually all of Cassavetes’s work in the ’70s, Beer League, Trees Lounge, etc.), and Tom Atkins (Halloween III, Night of the Creeps, Lethal Weapon).
If the above names mean nothing to you, it’s because I’m a nerd—and I’m OK with that, because this city gives me outlet upon outlet to be that particular brand of nerd. It also lets you be a sports enthusiast, political activist, entrepreneur, or late-night garbage plate consumer.
On the topic of transport, it takes little to get anywhere something is happening. Our subway may be closed, but people who want to get somewhere do. Quite easily, too. Rochester students have a bus line that takes them in and out of the city on an hourly basis. You can also drive your car with little worry about overly congested streets or finding a parking space. Some lots cost a few bucks, some are free, and there is on-street parking.
I could go and on for hours about this city. Because I love it. And no, not everyone who is a lifer loves it. And that’s OK. If you’ve read this far, you may know something new about Rochester, something you didn’t care to know, or something that sounds pretty cool to you. That’s Rochester—a lot of things to a lot of people.