WHEN THE SAXOPHONIST finishes his howling solo, applause and appreciative hollers rise to the level of the jazz music being shared from the main stage at Whiskey Creek Zócalo. On this Sunday, my family has claimed the last open table in the Arenas Valley restaurant-bar-plant-nursery, which is, above all, a hot music venue.
Announcing a break, the keyboardist confesses that their three-piece band is awaiting a fourth piece: a Kansas City–based vibraphonist whose flight was delayed. Word on the street is that the sax player is a part-time New Mexico resident who plays clubs in New York. The drummer honed his percussion skills in L.A.
“Every single musician that comes here is so excited about the venue, the town, and the community,” says Melanie Zipin, who co-owns Whiskey Creek Zócalo with her son Rafael Zipin and her husband, Jeff LeBlanc. “They’re the ones telling other musicians: ‘You gotta come see this town.’ ”
Garrett T. Capps & NASA Country play the main stage.
Photograph courtesy of @describethefauna.
During the pandemic, the family renovated the former Hurley schoolhouse they’d purchased in 2015. Adding murals and scrap-material installations over their three-year renovation, the trio invested in a stage and top-tier sound equipment. They opened the plant nursery before the restaurant and bar, but creating a space for people to gather around song was their focus all along. “In a lot of markets, music is kind of an afterthought,” Rafael says. “We are a venue first.”
While Melanie, Rafael, and Jeff don’t mind selling plants, slinging pizzas, or serving drinks, their priority is hosting concerts, poetry readings, and workshops, in conjunction with artist residencies. Rafael leverages his background as a musician and working in bars across the West to book friends’ acts at the Zócalo. Many of the artists, including Latin indie rock duo Mint Field and Portland cowpunk band Jenny Don’t and the Spurs, performing in September, ordinarily play for larger audiences. A restaurant offering live music of this caliber is atypical. “It’s an intimate venue to see a really big act,” Melanie says.
Dubbed the Lodge, a small corner room that feels part chapel, part artsy coffee shop is a retreat from the bustle of the Zócalo’s primary space. It hosts monthly poetry readings and allows audience members to escape the crowd by watching main stage performances on a projector while the sound leaks in. The main stage spans the length of the wall opposite the curving cob bar. High tops and lower round tables fill the space between, while benches line the walls. “In the fall, we can open all the doors, so you’ll be able to be out on the deck and still hear the music,” Melanie says.
Nichole Graf’s massive mural adds punch.
Photograph courtesy of Rafael Vigilantics.
