In the daytime, the two-storied bright blue dwelling is just another charming addition in a long row of college homes. There’s no hiding the signs of life that grace the colorful facade; stringed lights dangle from the covered porch, decorative pumpkins sit idly on the steps. To any unassuming passerby, this house is just that. A house.
But when the sun goes down, the modest residence is swallowed up by bright lights, crowds of eager showgoers, and the faint tuning-up sounds of varying instruments, all catalysts to the ultimate transformation. Bluebird House is alive, and a force to be reckoned with.
If you were wondering how a DIY venue is born, you’d need to look no further than Sebastian Hagman and Sam Ashkenazy, the two masterminds behind the Bluebird project. First introduced back in middle school, the friends reconnected years later in Bellingham over a shared love for music and the community it creates.
In their first few years at Western Washington University, Ashkenazy and Hagman quickly realized that there was a key element missing from the current scene. Discouraged by an abundance of low-quality, thrown-together shows, the two began looking toward the same goal shared by many Bellingham creatives: fostering a comfortable space that allowed their passions to flourish. Armed with a deep knowledge of music and the drive to produce something their freshmen selves would be proud of, the early planning of what would soon become Bluebird House began.
Gazing around the completed basement studio, it’s almost impossible to believe that not long ago, the venue itself was just a distant dream. The space is bursting with personality; funky lamps line the blocked-out windows, old Halloween decorations grace the tops of equipment. Even the two individual workspaces have identities of their own: Hagman’s boasts warm-toned light and open windows, while Ashkenazy’s is dark, cool, and bright blue.
The space is a pure reflection of the two men, individualistic yet cohesive, a perfectly entangled amalgamation of the talent and skill each half brings to the project. Walking down the steps into the basement, it’s obvious that Bluebird simply could not exist without all of the life poured into it by its very architects. And as we sit down in the middle of the very dream they’ve brought to life, the pride of the two is nearly palpable.
The engineering of the Bluebird project began over a year ago in July of 2020, after finding the perfect house and securing a future for the venue. Yet, it wasn’t until July 9th of this year that the house debuted with an electronic bill featuring local artists CHRVNS, Glitchlette, and King Salmon.
When I asked the two friends to tell me about their very first show, both broke into a smile.
“We didn’t know if anyone was gonna fucking come,” Hagman laughed.
“Especially that first hour,” added Ashkenazy. “You’re getting really close to start and you’re like, ‘Oh shit, is anybody gonna actually come?’ But the energy was great. Too many people came, which is not the worst problem to have.”
Three months later, Bluebird House regularly hosts an average of 130 people per show, an undoubtedly impressive amount for a DIY venue. And with the continued success of the performances, Ashkenazy and Hagman have been able to turn more of their attention to the aspect that really sets the Bluebird project apart: the basement studio.
Standing inside Bluebird’s main stage room, you’d never guess that beneath your feet lies any musician’s fantasy, an unfinished space consisting entirely of decorative rugs, mismatched lighting, and all the equipment needed to produce anything imaginable. However, the venue’s best-kept secret is actually not a secret at all, and instead regularly serves as a rehearsal space, recording studio, and film set for local acts around town.
As current and recently graduated audio technology students, Ashkenazy and Hagman have transformed the basement into a place to hone their craft while offering accessible production to other members of the community. Without a substantial budget and connections around town, finding a place to mix a record can be virtually impossible for some local musicians.
“If you want to make a decent record, we’re here,” commented Hagman. “We can make it happen pretty easily. If you have your stuff together, so do we.”
If completing a record takes a village, Ashkenazy and Hagman will be the first people in line to help with their guitars slung over their shoulders. The two friends know just how difficult getting off the ground can be, especially for solo acts.
“We like the idea of being studio musicians,” said Ashkenazy. “We also know a lot of other musicians around here. For example, if you were working on a track here, and thought, ‘Damn, I would love a horn section,’ just call in Analog Brass! You can bring all your favorite people to the house.”
But even if you aren’t a band forging an album, or a songwriter looking for some instrumentation help, Bluebird House prides itself on still being a place for everyone involved in the scene. From the concert photographers to the budding musicians, and even the freshmen off the street needing a place to feel at home, there’s space for you. You don’t have to know anyone to belong there.
There’s no denying the wreckage a year of no live music has had on the DIY community. But as we begin to move forward once again, Bluebird House is promising to be a steadfast pillar in the scene, a place where anyone and everyone can begin to feel free once more. And as for Ashkenazy and Hagman, that’s all they could ask for.
“My favorite thing about doing these shows is just seeing everybody hanging out together and having a good time,” said Ashkenazy. “If I were just a random ass freshman and I found a place like this, I would be real happy.”
“We’re trying to make the place that you’d want to find,” concluded Hagman. “Making people feel like they have a place to look forward to going to, where you can smoke your smoke and drink your drink and hang out and have fun, but ultimately, there’s a purpose to it.”
For more information about Bluebird House, follow @bluebirdsounds on Instagram.
Photos by Thomas Hughes