Kewanee has quietly become part of our late-summer routine, mostly because of one backyard on West Central where David Guzzardo keeps inviting us back. This will be our third time setting up in his yard before the parade rolls through, and at this point it feels less like a “gig” and more like dropping back into a tradition he’s built with his friends.
We’re playing midday again, two hours before the parade starts. It’s that window where people are drifting in with lawn chairs, someone’s checking the time for the parade lineup, and the excitement is brewing all through the neighborhood. By the time the sirens and marching bands kick in, we’re usually packing up cables and finishing the last bit of coffee or whatever’s in our cups by then.
One thing that always stands out about David’s place is how thought-through he is as a host. The first few years he surprised us with a bottles of wine. This year he mentioned he’s got a shade canopy ready for us, which tells you he understands what it’s like to play two hours in the September sun. Hopefully the weather will be great that day!
Musically, these yard shows always tend to be a blast. A bunch of friends together enjoying each others company, good weather and the parade. It never feels like we need to “put on a big show”; it’s more about keeping the afternoon moving and giving everyone a soundtrack while they get ready for the rest of the day.
The Basics
- When: Saturday, September 5, 2026, from 12:00 PM to 2:00 PM
- Where: Private event at David Guzzardo’s place in Kewanee, IL
- Who: Bell & Field (piano, guitar, and two voices)
- What to expect: A two-hour backyard set before the parade, with a mix of familiar covers and Bell & Field originals, shaded under David’s new canopy and folded into his annual gathering of friends.
About Bell & Field
We’re a piano-and-guitar duo that builds each set around the room we’re in, or in this case, the yard we’re in. For David’s party, that usually means keeping things tuneful and easy to follow: some classic songs people know the words to, some newer ones people recognize from the radio, and a handful of our own that fit that same lane. If the group leans in and starts calling out requests, we’ll chase those down too, as long as they’re somewhere in our mental songbook.
The Room & The Neighborhood
David’s yard sits right along the path of the Kewanee parade, which gives the afternoon a built-in timeline. When we start, the street is usually already filled up with people finding spots along the curb. The yard itself has become familiar to us: same patch of grass for the speakers, usually the same group of friends who remember at least one song from last year, and now a new shade canopy that should make the midday stretch a little easier on everyone.
It’s always good to be invited back to the same yard. We’ll do our part to make these two hours before the parade feel easy, tuneful, and worth showing up a little early for.
Then Greg and Payton performed Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. A few nerves showed through, but the performance was sublime. Payton did great on both songs, and she is looking forward to learning more material with us and making more appearances.
Before we left for this private party, we ran through A Horse with No Name one more time.
Once the sun was out of the way, the lighting setup got to do its part. Greg does not simply run one sound-synced program and hope for the best. He has different scenes arranged for different kinds of music, so he rotated the lights throughout the night.
Sunday afternoon shows are starting to grow on us. There’s something about loading out while there’s still daylight that feels like we’re getting away with something.
When we arrived, Lisa welcomed us, recorded a quick pre-show welcome video (Tom handled the talking; Greg did his usual “stand there and try not to look awkward” routine), and showed us where to pull the cars around back so we could unload right next to the performance area. We will never stop appreciating an easy load-in.
We’d played the night before, and Greg’s voice had already taken a beating. He’d slept badly, got up around 7:00 a.m., and by the first song at Tres Rojas, it was clear his voice was mostly air.
Tom also took a few solo turns, including “Heart of Gold” and an original called “Our Time,” which Greg hadn’t heard him play in ages. There’s a different kind of focus in the air when we play an original. Covers tend to trigger shared memories; originals ask everyone to lean in and listen to a story they’re hearing for the first time.
We’d heard about Tiny Acres out near Monmouth, but driving down that long country road for the first time felt a little like we’d taken a wrong turn into someone’s private farm lane. Then the trees opened up, the pond came into view, and suddenly there was this whole little event world laid out in front of us.
The place itself is impressive. There’s the 1850s ceremony barn up on the hill, looking over the pond, with rows of chairs set up like it’s permanently five minutes before a wedding. There’s an overnight cabin, outdoor spaces with grills and picnic tables, and the main event building where we played. You can tell somebody actually thought about how people move through this place.
Once we got set up and sound‑checked, we realized this room was built with sound in mind. No weird slapback echo, no dead zone at the far end. People could be standing at the bar and still hear the music clearly, but we never felt like we were blasting anyone out of their chairs. It’s rare that a long, rectangular room feels that balanced, and this one did.
Somewhere later in the night, someone tossed out a request for “Gin and Juice.” Not exactly in the Bell & Field standard catalog. I gave it a shot anyway—one verse, acoustic, very tongue‑in‑cheek—then stopped, laughed, and admitted that was probably as far as I could responsibly take it. That one verse got a bigger reaction than some full songs, and it reminded me how sometimes you don’t have to nail a request to make it fun; you just have to meet people halfway.
We packed up through that magic load‑in door, said our goodbyes, and headed back down the long road to Monmouth. On the way out of town, we hit Taco Bell, debriefed the night, and started game‑planning our show at Tres Rojas Winery the next day. It’s hard not to feel lucky when your “work meeting” is about playing songs you love and eating bean burritos and tacos.
Late November in Iowa usually means coats in the car, short days, and people deciding whether they’re ready for winter yet. A Friday night at a winery and distillery sounds like a pretty solid way to delay that decision for a few hours.
Going into this one at Coal Creek Brewing in Princeton, we honestly weren’t sure what we were walking into. A Tuesday, 5–7 PM, a private group Jim was hosting, and a room we’d never played before. We didn’t know where we’d set up, how loud we should be, or if people would be listening closely or just chatting over us.
One of those musicians was Payton Schott, who owns West Main Coffee & Books in Toulon. I used to play music with her a few years back. Our side project never totally found its lane, but it ended on good terms, and I’ve always thought the world of her as a person and as a musician. She’s also the one who helped connect us with Jim for this Coal Creek date, so this gig was kind of the Toulon–Galva–Princeton triangle closing a loop.
Between sets and after we wrapped, we worked through that beer flight Tom had ordered, comparing notes like we actually knew what we were talking about. Tom eventually settled on a full 16 oz of a blueberry/blackberry wheat draft called “Plot Twist,” which pretty much nailed the whole night in one phrase. Neither of us expected a Tuesday at Coal Creek to turn into one of our favorite recent gigs, but there we were.
Sometimes you pull into a town, start unloading gear, and you can just tell it’s going to be a good one. That’s how it felt rolling into Monmouth for our Market Alley Wines show on July 11.
Once we kicked off the first set, it felt like the whole alley kind of clicked into place. There was that low hum of conversation, glasses clinking, and then this slow shift as people started actually listening. By the time we hit “I Feel Fine,” Greg was sneaking in some extra piano runs and Tom just looked over and grinned. Those are the little moments that make a live acoustic duo performance fun for us.
We wrapped up, packed the gear, and then hung out a bit with Sarah and Jeff to catch up. They’re the kind of venue owners that make Market Alley Wines entertainment feel like a collaboration instead of just a booking. Monmouth’s got a good thing going with them anchoring that alley.
If you’re the kind of person who likes a low-key Saturday night where you can have dinner, catch up with friends, and still hear the words to the songs, this one is right in that lane.
Outdoor gigs in July are always a bit of a gamble. Heat, humidity, storms – usually at least one shows up. Our live acoustic duo performance for Valley View Club’s 60th anniversary in Cambridge managed to flirt with all three and still let us get through the show.
his whole night was about anniversaries – 250 years of America and 60 years of Valley View Club. The course has been there for about one-fifth of the country’s history, which is kind of wild when you think about it.
We wrapped the main part of the night with “Wild Night,” which is always a fun one to end on, and then closed things out with “America the Beautiful” on the eve of the 4th. Greg and Paul leaned into a version that stays close to the Ray Charles arrangement – soulful, patient, and not rushed. It felt like the right way to nod to both the country’s birthday and Valley View’s 60 years.
