Musicians Enrique Leon, mariachi singer and guitarist
don’t knowhowother artists have made it.”
At about the same time, police in Minnesota murdered George Floyd, and Wilson— who has a background as an organizer— stepped into thatworld once again, protesting alongside other activists and using his growing online platform to speak on social justice. HIs most notable piece of music this year, “Fight Like Ida B& Marsha P,” was created to be both a protest anthem and a celebration of Black women activists.
As the pandemic continued to prevent live performances, however, Wilson eventually had to conjure up some income.
“I helped raise a lot of money for a lot of people this year, and I didn’t really make (expletive),” he said. “So as this season’s coming around, I need to do that, and it’s not justme. There are family members that need help with the bills, you knowwhat I mean?”
The summer “uprising,” asWilson calls it, inspired his new line of merchandise, which doesn’t feature his name anywhere but rather liberatory declarations: “ABOLISH IT ALL” on tote-bags, and “Trash TheHate, Bring The Footwork” on shirts.
In a year of so much change, Wilson said he has been lucky to have some constants: his family and his home recording setup, plus some royalty checks, a savings account and his accountant.
“Thank God I had a good accountant,” he said. “Iwas able to write off a bunch of (stuff ). People don’t realize that artists are technically independent contractors.”
Sadly, many performing musicians are not in the same position.
“Luckily, I’ve done tours, I’ve done the festival circuit, so I have at least a little bit of savings and I was able to go live withmy family,” Wilson said. I can’t imagine if thiswas like a year or two ago, and Iwas just starting and hadn’t had all those gigs. Iwould have missed out on a bunch of chances that really, really changedmy life.”
Little Miss Ann, children’s musician
Before her transition to being a children’s musician full time, Ann Torralba, aka “Little Miss Ann,” was a teacher in Chicago Public Schools. While that background has always been part of her musical success, it has helped create new opportunities for her since the pandemic began.
“I’m definitely notworking as much, but the things that I’ve been doing predominantly sinceCOVID have been a lot of online virtual concerts, mostly for libraries,” Torralba said. “The educational aspect of my career has really allowedme to keep doing music post-pandemic.”
Libraries have long been among Torralba’s best outlets. During a normal summer, shewould play as many as three shows per day at different libraries throughout Chicagoland. Despite the shift to digital performances, many libraries continued to offer children’s programming this year.
“I have to give it up for
librarians,” she said. “They’ve been advocates for continuing this kind of programming in their communities.”
As pandemic conditions have lingered into the fall and winter seasons, however, she has pulled back on those shows.
“Kids, especially, are Zoom-ed out with school,” she said.
Digital performances are still part of her schedule, typically short performances— either live or prerecorded— or instructional videos. Torralba teaches through the Old Town School of FolkMusic and, during the summer, transitioned some of those classes online.
Torralba will deliver a presentation about the value of music in children’s education and classrooms at a large upcoming teacher’s conference, and she has continued to collect some income fromplacements, either for educational use, SiriusXMpayouts and others.
She’s currentlyworking on her sixth album, something she’s able to do without leaving the house or being in a crowd. She said that COVID-related relief grants for artists— including one fromthe Old Town School— have allowed her the time and energy necessary to create a new album. She also applied for and received grants from the Grammys’MusiCares and Illinois 3Arts funds.
“I have another in the household, so that definitely helps, but I also have the responsibilities: a car, a kid in college, amortgage,” Torralba said. “I’ve been very fortunate. but I know there are a lot of musicians and music venues and people connected to music who have had it very rough. Most musicians get the money andwant to continue doing that, butwe just like to play music, you know? We justwant to play music.”
For better orworse, a musician’s job description has always been more complicated than that, and the pandemic has only increased the difficulty of those professional gymnastics.
For 30 years, mariachi player Leon has shared in people’s lives with his music. The changes to his work this year offer a
uniqueway to measure of the pandemic’s human effects: Leon has played more “serenatas” for couples getting engaged; played fewer shows at nursing and group homes for senior citizens; and played at “a lot more” funerals— for both strangers and friends.
“People alwayswant to serenade their loved ones (who have passed), but that’s definitely been one of the main revenues this year,” Leon said through his daughter Areli, who translated for him during the interview. “It’s dark.”
Leon heads upMariachi Mexico Vivo, his mariachi group based in Pilsen. Prior to the pandemic, his schedulewould consist of select shows during theweek and weekly performances at bars and restaurants on the weekends. Those promptly vanished, and for the first few months of the pandemic shutdown, the band “basically stopped playing.”
Leon soon began performing livestream shows, then eventually private performances of specific songs for people. Hewould often pre-record the shows so that he could deliver a festive message to the recipients. Still, Leon misses the in-person connection with his audiences.
“One of the biggest changes that I didn’t really enjoywas that I like feeling theway people feel when they hear live music,” he said. “I miss that connection, and I didn’t like when Iwas just singing to a screen.”
Specifically, Leon misses being able to bring his music into nursing homes.
“I feel sad that I can’t bring a connection to those people because I knowhow lonely it can be to live as a resident, but also not to be able to see their families,” he said.
This year, for the first time, the oncoming cold weather will have a dramatic effect on Leon’swork. He has already performed a few chilly serenatas for outdoor engagements and, with the help of an outdoor tent and amplifier setup, he plans to continue for as long as theweather allows.
“It’s harder to physically play becausemy hands aren’tmoving aswell with the cold air,” Leon said. “It becomes more of an issue.”
But he doesn’twant to enter people’s homes, so providing this service would be the safest for everyone.
“Overall, as a musician, it’s been a very sad year,”
Leon said. “Aside froma lot of people passing, a big part of the performance is that connection with the audience. I enjoy the energy, I enjoy the good vibes, and that’s why I’ve been amariachi musician for so long.”
JeannieTanner, composer, multiinstrumentalist, recording artist
When the bars closed in March, Tanner’s shows went with them. Tanner does a little bit of everything as a musician, but one thing she did a lot ofwas serenading guests in restaurants and bars.
“We lost all of our gigs on the 15th, andwe started livestreaming on the 18th,” Tanner said.
By the end of the same week, Tanner and her performing partner Abigail Riccards had pivoted to livestream performances and launched “Desperate MeasuresMusic Series,” a weeklyWednesday night performance that is now approaching its 37thweek of shows.
Normally, Tanner and Riccards might be behind a piano taking requests, playing the hits, so they decided to apply the same format to their online show. Soon they had a digital audience tuning in locally and internationally, and theywere taking requests and cranking out tunes over the internet.
The swift shift helped Tanner and Riccards to stand out among a sea of livestreaming options early in the pandemic. They were able to establish their showand whowould be their audience. The response has sustained the showfor more than nine months.
“I can’t believewe’re in our 37thweek,” Tanner said. “Butwe have a really good audience. People continue to tune in and are continuing to be very generous in supporting us, and we’re having fun. It’s saving our sanity.”
Tanner, who lives with her partner Susan, is also a recording musician, and royalty payments from placements have also helped herweather the drought of live shows.
She has had songs featured on VH1’s “Single Ladies,” TV commercials andHallmark holiday movies. During this pandemic, she composed music for an originalweb series called “Bong
Zombies.”
Both she and Riccards also perform for private parties or events via livestream. Riccards began offering music lessons to create some income earlier this year, another option Tanner said she might also revisit.
“I used to run a nonprofit music center. People ask me all the time if I’ll give vocal or trumpet lessons, and listen— if this (pandemic) goes on, Imay have to do that again,” Tanner said with a laugh.
For now, she and Riccards will continue the “DesperateMeasures” series everyWednesday. Until she can return to her natural performing habitat, Tanner said she will continue to adapt.
“As creators, we just keep going, and reinvent ourselves,” Tanner said. “I’ve been writing different kinds of music and trying to reach different people.
“You don’t knowwho you’re touching. You just sort of put this out in the ether, but you honestly don’t knowwho you’re touchingweek toweek. … If we can spread a little cheer, that’s whatwe’re here to do.”
Hypno Carlito, rapper and songwriter
Carlito began 2020 on a good note. Carlito, real name Robert Amparan, got a call fromNick Cannon on ChristmasDay 2019 asking him to write an upcoming project, and he soon started the new year with a decent check.
Cannon has been a big fan of Carlito’s andwas actually the one who pitched his music to Spike Lee for “Chi-Raq.” Although Cannon performed it, Carlitowas the one who wrote “Pray 4My City,” the movie’s lead single.
By the start of this year, Carlito had finished writing the Cannon project, which would become “The Miseducation of theNegro You Love toHate” andwas released in January.
“Iwas telling (my friend Moose) Iwant to invest in something, but Iwanted it to be something that I like to do,” Carlito said.
He considered a barbershop or a shoe store, but Moose— akaKevin Layeni, Carlito’s longtime friend— urged him to open a studio.
“Hewas like, ‘You spend too much money at these other studios,’ ” Carlito said. “(He said), ‘Get your
own. Fix it up a little bit, and then just keep going fromthere.’ ”
In a givenweek, Carlito could spend as much as $1,500 booking studio time. He estimated that he spent more than $60,000 in studio rentals during 2018 and 2019.
“That’s what made me be like, ‘(Moose), you right about the studio, bro,’ ” he said.
After finding a secluded location tucked in the back of a labyrinthian industrial area, Carlito got towork creating Forever Legend Studios.
“Literally, Iwent to Guitar Center every day,” he said. “Theywas like, ‘You again?’ ”
Just before hewas about to open the studio, the COVID-19 restrictions kicked in.
“They had said, ‘Nobody come outside’ right when I was (going to) open, so I was like, ‘Oh no, this can’t happen,’ ” Carlito said. “But we ended up making it happen. We’ve just been on some safe (stuff ). …
“I haven’t had a problem booking sessions. The only thing, really, has been choosing which people to have in. There have been times that I’ve had to turn people away because they showed up with five or six people in the middle of a pandemic.”
With Forever Legend, not only does Carlito save money when recording his own music, but nowother musicians are paying him to use studio time. So far, he’s only needed to use his own social media platforms to promote the sessions, and his manager Scott handles all the bookings.
“The best investment (I could have made) was Forever Legend Studios,” Carlito said. “Thiswas the best thing I could have did because it makes money every day.
“When the shows stopped, itwas really no way for you tomake money because when you’re an artist, shows are really what keep you eating, especially if you’re not selling a million records.”
The studio has been a silver lining during a difficult year. During the same time Carlitowas building Forever Legends, his friend — and inspiration for the project— Moose learned that hewould need a heart transplant. He died in March during a failed procedure, just as the recording studiowas nearing completion.
Forever Legend, Carlito said, is dedicated toMoose, particularly since hewas the one who pushed Carlito toward the idea. And, true to the guidance that Moose had always offered, it has been amajor success.
He has continued to support his three children — two sons, aged 10 and 5, and a 7-year-old daughter — and laughed when talking about his daughter learning that “her daddy is a rapper.” When his sister lost her two jobs earlier this year, Carlito stepped in to pay her rent. When he hasn’t been in the studio, he has also hosted food drives for unhoused persons.
“The pandemic hit hard, man,” Carlito said. “Ifmy sister is going through it, then it’s so many people going through it. I think that if Iwouldn’t have had theNick Cannon project, it would’ve been difficult, because then Iwouldn’t have had the business.
“Iwouldn’t have had the income. Iwouldn’t have had the studio.”