We don’t play a lot of museums, so getting asked to be part of the Kewanee Historical Society’s 50th birthday party already felt a little different in the best way. Instead of a stage or a corner of a bar, we were set up on the mezzanine, looking down over the main floor while people came in, grabbed food, and found old friends.
Playing from the mezzanine “kitchen”
The spot they put us in usually holds a recreated early-1900s kitchen, so our piano, guitar, and PA ended up right where the stove and table usually live. From up there, we could see the whole room—people being greeted at the door, laughing at the first display that caught their eye, lining up for food. It felt like we were half band, half extra set of eyes on the party.
Tom’s been to the museum a bunch with his family, but this was my (Greg’s) first real wander through. There’s a lot to take in—old storefront signs, photos, tools, and a bunch of 70s-era stuff that made us both say, “Wait, we had that exact thing!”
The orange couch and the Hawaiian painting
The star of our setup area, though, was this bright orange vintage sofa under a painting of a Hawaiian woman who is… let’s just say, not overdressed. The painting used to hang at the old Waunee Farms restaurant, and once we saw it, we knew there was no way we were getting through the night without a photo or two.
Tom immediately went into Seinfeld mode and started telling the story about the episode where Elaine accidentally sends out Christmas cards with a nip slip. He’s halfway down the stairs re-enacting it when we both realize everyone on the main floor has gone quiet and is listening, so he kind of trails off mid-sentence. We told them we were talking about a Seinfeld episode but didn’t have the courage to speak of it aloud, and we all had a laugh.
The funny part: a few minutes after we come back up with more gear, we hear people downstairs talking about Seinfeld. So in a way, Seinfeld ended up being the unofficial third member of Bell & Field for the night. Greg even tried his best George Costanza pose on that orange couch under the painting. Not sure he nailed it, but the intention was there.
Music for a museum birthday
From a music standpoint, this was one of those “background, but not really background” shows. People were eating, talking, and checking out exhibits, but we could feel a lot of ears tuned in. Every time we finished a song, we’d catch clapping from different pockets of the room.
Tom’s voice was a little tight for the first 20–30 minutes, but it loosened up as we went and from there it was smooth sailing.
We leaned into the storytelling side of our set list—songs that feel like they belong in a room full of photos and old documents. Our take on “Borderline” keeps evolving every time we play it, and this one felt especially dialed in. The big standout for both of us, though, was “Slip Slidin’ Away.” As soon as we hit the last chord, we looked at each other and said the same thing: “That’s the best we’ve ever played that one.” It’s a good feeling when you both know it without having to say anything first.
Giveaways, history nerds, and a tip jar downstairs
Throughout the night, Mike—who was juggling host, MC, and museum ambassador duties—would hop on the mic between a couple of songs to announce raffle winners. So the flow kind of became: two or three tunes from us, a cheer from the crowd, then someone heading up to grab a prize. It kept things loose and made it feel very much like a community birthday party, not just a concert dropped into a museum.
The board members and volunteers—Mike, Marci, LeeAnn, Marianne, and others—could not have been more welcoming. The food table stayed busy, people lingered at the displays, and we got to talk to a few folks who clearly love Kewanee history as much as Tom does. (He’s actually certified to teach social studies, so this kind of gig is right in his wheelhouse.)
At one point Mike also reminded everyone that there was a tip jar downstairs for the “live acoustic duo performance” happening above their heads, which was very kind of him. From our balcony perch, we could see people wander over, drop something in, and then tilt their heads up to see where the music was coming from.
Why this one stuck with us
We say this a lot, but it’s true: no two Bell & Field gigs are the same. This one really played to what we do best—mixing familiar covers and a few deeper cuts that reward people who are really listening. Being up on that mezzanine, surrounded by old kitchenware, an orange couch, and that infamous painting, made it feel like we were part of the exhibit for a night.
For Tom, it was also a reminder to get back to the museum more often just as a visitor. The place is packed with the kind of hands-on details that help you understand what it was like to live in Kewanee decades ago, and it was cool to be the soundtrack for people reconnecting with those stories.
Huge thanks again to everyone at the Kewanee Historical Society for having us, feeding us, and trusting us not to knock anything over with a guitar case or piano shell. If you’re looking for Kewanee Historical Society entertainment ideas or just want live music in Kewanee that can fit around conversations and celebrations like this, we’d love to chat about it.
Curious what Bell & Field could bring to your event, party, or gathering? You can reach us through this page.
Our second Father’s Day at Tuggers in Port Byron looked pretty different from the first one. Last year it was all sunshine on the patio and people hanging out by the river. This year: nonstop rain, temps in the upper 50s, and us hauling gear inside instead of out to the deck. Still, by the time we finished playing, it felt like exactly the kind of Father’s Day we both needed.
This show had an extra layer for Tom: his whole family was there—parents, kids, significant others, Malissa—taking over a couple of tables and making it very clearly a Father’s Day thing. Somewhere in the middle of the set, Tom took a short break to open his gifts. From Greg’s vantage point, it looked like a mini living room scene right there in the bar, which fit the mood of the day perfectly.
This was Tom’s first gig since turning fifty the week before, and that milestone was definitely in the back of his mind, as he reflected on his appreciation for family, life, and music.
About Bell & Field:
We’ll be at Coal Creek Brewing Company in Princeton on Tuesday, July 21, from 5–7 PM.
Rams Riverhouse is starting to feel like our own little experiment in how many tiny things can go sideways before a show and still add up to a really good night.
Kewanee has one of those downtowns where you can still picture what it looked like a few decades ago just by walking a block or two. The Historical Society sits right in the middle of that, with the murals and old storefronts close by and the museum quietly holding all the details the sidewalks don’t show anymore.
Some Saturday nights are for squeezing into a crowded room and shouting over the music. This one at Tiny Acres is the opposite. It’s a work thing, a corporate night out, where people will probably be trying to finish a conversation they started in a meeting three months ago.
The drive over set the tone. The forecast was calling for heavy rain and possible storms, so we were half-joking, half-serious about whether this was going to turn into an “adventure gig.” Somewhere along I-80, we passed a red pickup that Tom thought might be his parents. They took an off-ramp, we kept going, and we didn’t think much of it.
About half an hour in, the skies just opened up. It poured for what felt like an hour. You could see sheets of rain pounding the patio and, in a few spots, water started sneaking into the room. The Cedar Ridge staff hustled with squeegees and towels, pushing water back out the doors and toward the drains while we kept playing.
Tom’s parents made it to the show, along with his mom’s cousin and cousin’s husband from Cedar Rapids. It had been a long time since Tom had seen them, so having them in the crowd added another layer to the day. After the set, we caught up, and that’s when the full “red pickup / side-of-the-road pee / mystery honk” story came out. That spiraled into Greg telling the story about making his wife, Noriko, stop at every floor in a Japanese elevator years ago when she really needed a bathroom. “She did not think it was funny then,” Greg said, “but 20 years later it’s… kind of funny. Maybe.”
Paul and the crew had us dialed in before we even opened a case. They’d set up a big canopy over the patio “stage” area, plus the camera feed that sends our set inside the bar. From a musician’s point of view, that setup is gold — you feel like you’re playing to two rooms at once.
One of our favorite parts of the afternoon was a couple who drifted over to this little corner lounge area just off to our side and a bit behind us. From the stage, that spot almost feels like backstage seating. They were grooving, hanging out, and applauding between songs.
Edison’s was packed on the patio from the first song, and it looked just as busy through the windows inside. A lot of folks stayed with us the whole three hours, which we don’t take for granted. Between sets and song changes we had a steady stream of conversations, requests, and people just coming up to say hi.
We’d been talking about this one for a while. The Kewanee Farmers Market decided to gamble on an evening version of their Wednesday market, and we got to help kick off the season. No fee, just us under a big shade tree, some lights, food trucks, and a whole lot of “let’s see if this actually works.”
Earlier in the week, we’d asked on social media if anyone had song requests. You all delivered. We had people specifically come up and ask, “Did you play ‘Garden Party’ yet?” Ricky Nelson’s “Garden Party” and Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon” both landed right where we hoped they would—recognizable from halfway across the street, but still quiet enough that you could hear someone next to you talk about which tomatoes looked best.
One of the best parts of nights like this is who you bump into. We got to talk with friends we’ve known for years and meet new folks who just happened to be walking through the market. Greg met Steve for the first time—a committee member for Hog Days—who had already hired us to play later this year. It was good to finally put a face to the emails and meet his wife as well.
Tuggers has snuck up on us and turned into one of our favorite places to play. Kicking off their Pon-Tunes series on the patio, with the Mississippi right there and that late-May weather in the sweet spot (warm, but not swampy) felt like exactly where a piano-guitar duo should be on a Saturday night.
