Come Together
The Last Open Mic Night at Wähfles Cafe
A shaggy-haired, six-foot teenager named Seth is sitting in the corner, menacingly hunched over something. He flicks his black hair off his shoulder to reveal a bass guitar.The instrument’s paint is peeling and it’s covered in sticker residue. This thing has been through some intense jam sessions by the looks of it. He starts strumming away, playing some indistinguishable tune as people begin to settle in for this evening’s show. Square, dark, wooden tables are pushed up against the walls while tan, round tables fill up the middle of the spacious building. The wall is filled with artwork ranging from kindergarten finger paintings to amateur replicas of Van Gogh portraits speckled with paint and oil pastel colors. Despite the mismatched decor, the entire place feels inviting and warm, like your best friend’s living room where you could settle in with something to read and have a shot of espresso on the side. Only, they don’t have espresso here. But they do have Scarlett Johannsons, Lucky Charms hot cocoa, and Wookie cookies.
So, order up a specialty waffle and have a seat at Open Mic Night at Wähfles Cafe.
Wähfles is a tiny establishment in sleepy Chino, offering tasty and uniquely named desserts. This is one of two locations, the other being in college town La Verne. Often overlooked because of the Irish pub across the way, Wähfle suntil recently hosted of an “open mic” show once a month. Why an open-mic night at a dessert cafe? Good question. It’s not big enouch to hold more than 30 and there are enough chairs in front of the “stage” for an audience of about 15. Not to mention, Chino is boring and most of its inhabitants would rather drive 10-minutes to shady downtown Pomona (home of the Fox Theater and The Glasshouse) than stay in their own city. Many Chino residents complaing that there is simply not much to do. For Wähfles’ the idea was pretty simple — though business had been steady, it wanted to drive more traffic to this location and not just rely on the one in La Verne.
The open mic was the brainchild of a friend of the owners who went by the name “Miss Ryan.” She started it here in 2014,wanting to create a space for aspiring poets, artists and musicians. Wähfles wanted more people to know about the cafe. Since then, this quirky, intimate setting allowed performers to fully showcase their work in a “non-judgmental” place. In 2015, Ryan could no longer take charge of the event as she was running off to college and eventually responsiblity for the event landed in the hands of a young musician from Diamond Bar named James Conci.
Conci, has always had a passion for music and performing. In high school, he would win top places in talent shows and perform in musicals. Charismatic and stubborn, Conci took on the task of maintaingin the open mic. To promote the events, Conci constantly bombarded invitations through Facebook to all sorts of characters. Conci says a growing awareness of how special it is to share one’s passion and craft inspired him to take charge of the event. “It doesn’t have to be music. Poetry readings, miming, and even just talking into the microphone is acceptable,” he says. “As long as you’re having a good time, and the people are too, then it’s a success.”
To emphasize this, Conci has kept the setup for the show simple: a Macbook, 2 small black amps, two microphone stands. Everything about it says “casual.” The walls are painted in warm browns and beige and the dim lighting almost makes the room seem sleepy, just like Chino. It’s the perfect place to open up about one’s feelings, whether it be about school problems or serious issues, such as rape. It’s small enough to be intimate, but also claustrophobic and pleasantly uncomfortable at times. This gives everyone a chance to vent or have a few minutes of “fame.” You never know when or where the next Taylor Swift or Sam Smith will be discovered.
It happens all the time. A loving, doting mother beckons her 13-year-old boy who has little-to-no interest in being there to take the “stage.” A gray, folding chair on a carpet seems to hold the same importance as the elaborately lighted American Idol stage to this mother. This one takes a seat at one of the brown, soft leather sofas surrounding the performing area. The boy smiles, the orange bands of his braces matching his bright personality. Conci lowers the mic stand level with his head and the show begins. For several minutes, the boy tries to tune his new guitar but to no avail. Plucking and strumming, it’s completely out of tune. His mother, balancing an avocado waffle on a plate on her lap while, beams and takes snapshots on her iPhone. At first the entire audience seems more interested in mom’s balancing act than the kid’s pending performance, crossing fingers that her white blouse won’t soon be sporting splotches of green and mayo.
Screeeeeech!
“Hi everyone! I’m Ryan and I wanna sing this song. I sang it to my crush not too long ago. I’d like to sing it for all the ladies in this place.” Suddenly everyone was interested in the young performer. Carelessly and roughly tugging on the strings, the kid plucks out the Plain White T’s sappy love song, “Hey There Delilah.”
Ohhh it’s what you do to me! Ohhh, it’s what you do to me…
The kid’s singing far off key, the mother is smiling in delight and polite smiles freeze on audience members’ faces. He forgets the first verse, and the second and the third. But none of this matters to his mother, who is already posting his debut on Instagram and Facebook for the rest of his family to see. Everyone claps when he admits he forgot the rest of the song and sits right next to his proud mother. “When he’s older, he’ll understand why I want him to do this,” says his mother, Natalie Brooke, as she combs her son’s wayward hair. “He probably won’t get another shot to get over ‘big crowds.’ It’s hard to get a break when you’re ‘competing’ for a spot with the local band. We need more of these shows.”
Brooke, is an aspiring model and fashion blogger and mother of three who says her work ranges from simple headshots to editorial-style photographs with birds nests and eyeshadow dripping down her chin like tears. Brooke, like so many mothers, wants what’s best for her children and has opened an Instagram account to showcase her children’s talents, specifically Ryan’s guitar playing. However, Instagram can only do so much. And that’s where Open Mic Night comes in. Brooke believes this intimate setting, where her son can perform without judgment, will feed his confidence. We’re all friends, we’re all fellow artists with a variety of talents here and Chino doesn’t have the pull of Pomona or Clarement to draw performances by established or even up-and-coming artists to play. Scenes like this one help keep the creative fires burning.
Russell Silva, a quirky college kid himself, prefers the more intimate setting that the cafe provides. “I wish we could do something like this at Mt. SAC [a community college in Pomona]. If we wanna jam out, we have to go to stuffy places in La Verne or Downtown Claremont. There’s nothing like this in the area,” says Silva, frowning as he fixes a straw hat.
he smiles widely, revealing a pair of rabbit-like front teeth, and pulls a ukelele from behind his wooden chair. “I’ve been playing for a couple years now, picked it up quickly! But how many iHeartRadio artists play the ukulele?” Silva says, stiffling a laugh. “But seriously, I get called the ‘Barbershop Quartet reject’ from time to time. But I like it, this suits my personality more.”
Silva hrugs off any other thoughts and struts up to the carpeted area to perform. Playfully plucking the strings, he delivers bubbly, feel-good love songs that all teenage girls long to hear. He stops playing after three original songs and embraces his girlfriend who’s clapping from the back of the cafe.
Meanwhile, a six-foot man leans against the doorway with a case at his side; it’s too big to be another ukelele and too small for a guitar. His black hair is slicked back, revealing a tiny, gold-hoop earring on his right earlobe. Conci catches his gaze just as he’s about to finish off the show and immediately announces another performance: “Give it up for Stephan Nosrat, the pirate violinist!”
Nosrat, dressed in denim and a blue button up, shakes his head in amusement. In what seems like two steps, Nosrat has made it up behind the microphone stand, where he reveals the mystery instrument — his grandfather’s violin. He rolls up his sleeves and guides his bow onto the violin strings effortlessly. To accompany the violin, Nosrat belts out tunes such as Nat King Cole’s “L-O-V-E” and Sinatra’s “Somewhere Beyond The Sea” as his rich deep voice bounces off the walls.
“I’ve been playing for years, perform here and there. I’m actually from Sweden, maybe one day I’ll move back and start up something like this,” Nosrat says as he daydreams over a cup of hot chocolate following his performance. “I shock a lot of people with this bad boy [look]. They typically think I play the electric guitar and rock all night because of my appearance. It’s nice to shock ‘em from time to time and have people hear me out. Not trying to show off or impress anyone, but I like playing and having an audience. My parents didn’t pay for lessons to have me cooped up at home and I didn’t make the effort to learn just to play for myself.”
Conci calls him up for one last number and the pirate violinist wipes away his whip-cream mustache and heads for the stage.
At the end of the night, like The Beatles, they came together. Ukulele. Violin. Guitar. Bass. Off-key singing. Just jamming out. A chaotic ensemble. One overpowering the other. Silva humming something fast paced; Conci tapping his brown leather shoe slowly; Nosrat furiously moving his bow across the strings in staccato like movements; Seth playing some random chords; even little Ryan joins by clapping along from the front row to establish a beat.
Sadly, Wähfles Cafe closed not long after this night, taking Chino’s weirdest open-mic night down with it and these guys with their busy lives — college undergraduates, future firefighters, and model moms — won’t likely come together again. So different, but the same in wanting a chance to shine, to share the high of performing and this human experience of vulnerability — whether through a song or sonnet. Now, the remnants of the Open Mic are scattered across Instagram and Facebook, the applause and laughter are whispers in their memories. Maybe another cafe in the area will let people like Nosrat and Silva perform from time to time. For now, Chino residents must find a new place for good vibes, new performances and Lucky Charms hot chocolate.
