A cozy night at Prototype 237: the venue that feels like home

Crowd members link arms for the final set of the night, LKFFCT.

On the first night of tour in June 2023, we stuffed all our gear and bodies into our bassist’s car and trekked from Brooklyn to Paterson, New Jersey, a city I’d never been to before. We pulled up to a five-story red-brick warehouse across the street from a dog park, gas station, and food truck. Other than that, the warehouse appeared to be in the middle of nowhere.

Members and friends of the band Blanket Approval in front of the warehouse.

The warehouse used to be a garment factory, but today, it’s Prototype 237: a creative co-living and performing space. From load in, I knew this night would be unlike any other show I’d played. 

Resident Communications Director Eric Saltzman treated us like friends from the moment we met in front of the gear elevator. With plenty of helpful hands, from Eric and other bands playing that night, we lugged our guitars, amps, and my drumming equipment into the massive elevator. At the top, the elevator opened to reveal an L-shaped kitchen with a stacked washer and dryer. I thought it looked cozy and lived in. 

One side of the kitchen had a curtain, and beyond it was the venue — a wide open space with avant-garde sculptures and decor filling the walls and hanging from the ceilings in true maximist style. According to Eric, the art in the space comes from many sources, including the residents and other New Jersey-based artists. 

On the left side of the room was an open door leading to Eric’s quarters: a small room with a bed, couch, and TV inside. He said it’s the most spacious bedroom he’s ever had, and he can watch concerts from the comfort of his bed. 

Eric told Through the Monitor that he has been living here since Prototype began in 2020. 

“After spending the larger part of my 20s testing my limits and community building in the remote Central Pacific, inner-city Belize, and rural India and Sudan, I fell into a relatively sheltered existence guiding bland-by-design federal public health initiatives in DC,” Eric said. 

But he just couldn’t get into it. 

“It was the platform of a lifetime for many in my line of work, whereas for me it was void of any of the edgy and evocative approaches that enticed me about the potential of my field,” Eric continued. “I left my position in search of more latitude to independently address societal and business challenges far from the bureaucracy.”

That’s when he joined his friend and “honorary brother,” musician Alex Pergament, in a quest to transform an old warehouse into an artistic communal space to uplift local and emerging performers. And with that, Prototype 237 was created. 

Alex was the second resident I met at Prototype. He was on sound, and I was impressed with his professional technical skills paired with a breezy demeanor. In my experience of performing over the last 12 years, I’ve found that my rapport with the sound person plays a crucial role in how comfortable I am on stage.

Alex Pergament on sound.

And just like Eric, Alex greeted my band like we were old friends hanging out and making music purely for fun. I thought our sound check was as relaxed as it was thorough. I wasn’t sweating through my shirt putting the drums together. I didn’t feel rushed, or like I was burdening the venue with my attention to detail. I was able to set everything up perfectly. And once we were done, I felt confident about our upcoming set. 

I later learned that this vibe is all a part of the “Prototype persona,” defined by Eric in a recent case study about the project: “a composite representing the space and its residents that says, ‘we don’t take ourselves too seriously and can be whimsical and irreverent, but we always take seriously our sound+production quality and artist-first mission.’”

My bandmates and I in Blanket Approval aren’t the only artists that have felt this combined level of good vibes and necessary professionalism in the one-of-a-kind venue. 

The NYC-based band Blanket Approval performs at Prototype.

Through the Monitor spoke with another band, Joy On Fire, who has returned to the space more than any other artist. 

John Carillo, bassist: Prototype 237 brings to mind the excitement of the NYC loft scene of the 1970s—where adventurous music, visual art, and poetry came together. At Prototype, the arts are connected through the residents of the space themselves — musicians, dancers, poets, painters, film and multimedia artists.

Alex Pergament, musician and mastermind behind Prototype 237, has put together a really nice sound system, and always gets the bands sounding good. Bands from all over come through Prototype, and the diverse styles that can be heard are connected by quality, vibrancy, and a sense of exploration. 

Anna Meadors, saxophonist: Prototype is one of our favorite venues; from the first time we played there, we felt so welcomed and supported. The community is enthusiastic about music that pushes boundaries and doesn’t fall neatly into genre lines, and they make us feel truly heard.

At Protoype, I felt like I was at home. The night began with performances from Monograms and Night Gallery. Blanket Approval was third on the bill followed by LKFFCT’s closing act. 

The New Jersey-based band Night Gallery performs at the venue.

Audience members took off their shoes, layed on the floor, and I did, too. As the sets went late and the night lingered on, I was in no rush to leave. I felt completely content right where I was. 

During the final set, the entire audience, myself included, was dancing in a semi circle — wrapped in each other’s arms. I started stomping my foot to the beat, and before I knew it, everyone was following my lead. We were all stomping in sync using nothing but eye contact, smiles, and the music around us to communicate. I felt so connected to the friends around me. There were no strangers here.