A new inductee into the Oregon Music Hall of Fame speaks of how music is central to his life – from his relationships to his career.

By Claire Levine

Because he’s so good at what he does, Steve Reischman’s name is likely unknown to most Oregon music fans. 

You certainly are familiar with what he has accomplished – producing shows by many of your favorite musicians, as well as those who will soon become your favorite musicians. But throughout four decades of producing shows, he largely remained behind the scenes. 

Most of us aren’t aware of the effort, skill and magic that goes into putting on a concert that both delights the audience and pleases the performers.

Steve began working with touring talent in the 1980s, producing concerts for Artichoke Music, then at the Oregon Zoo, and at special events throughout the Northwest and Northern California. He put on shows in every conceivable Portland venue.

He was the brains, heart and soul of The Aladdin Theater, which has been hosting superb performers since he started producing there in 1991. He also was a partner in starting the Edgefield concert series. In 2017, he retired from the Showman/Bear business. 

At Steve’s recent induction to the  Oregon Music Hall of Fame, Terry Currier said, “With him taking over the Aladdin Theater, Portland got a first class music venue as well as an amazing smorgasbord of music . . . 

“The Aladdin is still my favorite place to see live music,” Terry said.

Another largely overlooked aspect of Steve – even by many who worked closely with him – is that he is a great singer and rhythm guitar player. In his retirement, he is always looking forward to the next moment he can sing tight harmonies in a traditional bluegrass band.

At the core of everything. For Steve, “Music is my whole life.” It’s the thing that ties everything else he loves together. He said, “it allows you to communicate and connect beyond yourself.”

Steve remembers music as a bond that brought him closer to his mother. And music was central to the most enduring connection of his life – with his younger brother, John, one of North America’s most respected mandolin players. 

From the time John was born, shortly before their father died, Steve adored his brother. He encouraged John’s musicianship and, of course, teased him mercilessly. John says Steve started his music education by teaching him the guitar chords to Creedance songs. 

Music was his connection to others who, decades later, remain his close friends. It started when he was a teen in Ukiah experimenting with folk and the blues. The pattern continued when he moved to Oregon. Today, he performs in the Sunny South Bluegrass Band with two friends who he knew from the days he helped start the Oregon Bluegrass Association in the early 1980s.

Steve knows that “music is what brings people together” – and has been since prehistoric times when people sat around fires with drums and dancing. Today it still lifts spirits and strengthens courage. 

Having worked in the mental health field, Steve understands music’s power in a way many of us haven’t seen. And Steve has experienced how a music setting can be an opportunity for different types of healing.

Opening the heart. One day, Steve got a call from the road manager of a young band expected to perform at the zoo that evening. Steve learned that they probably would cancel because of a horrifying event from the previous evening’s show. A distraught audience member had climbed onto a light platform and launched himself onto the stage in a public suicide that traumatized musicians, crew and audience alike.

Steve asked the band to come to Portland and determine later if they felt able to play. Steve’s partner, Alice Rose, is a therapist. She called her colleague, Leo Munter, and another mental health professional skilled in trauma counseling. All three arrived at the zoo before sound check.

Leo suggested the therapists wear colorful handkerchiefs in their breast pockets. Musicians and crew could seek out the hankie-bearers if they felt like talking. 

During the afternoon, all sat in the green room. One by one or in small groups, people started moving toward the therapists. Alice said the zoo provided the perfect setting for people to get away from the group for a walk, a talk or a private cry.

The performers later said this was one of the best performances they’d ever given. Steve remembers that as a performing band, “They were emotionally connected before, and the experience reinforced that. They felt better about themselves, about their reactions, and they realized how normal it was to be so freaked out,” about this horrible event.

Opening the mind. Steve also used a zoo concert as an opportunity to educate, in a most engaging way.

Steve had scheduled an Irish rockabilly star for Zoo Nights.

“She thought the zoo was the name of a club,” Steve said. When she found out it was really a zoo, her agent called and said, “She hates zoos, so she’s cancelling.”

Steve shares her dislike of barred cages and poorly maintained zoos. But he also knew well The Oregon Zoo’s value for protecting and rescuing animals, as well as educating people about animal habitat, endangerment and other issues.

So, he set out to win her over – and salvage the concert.

When she arrived, zookeepers met her with rescued animals, including a pygmy owl, an eagle and a porcupine. These opened the door to a conversation about the zoo’s mission and benefits.

The singer learned to respect the zoo – and she put on a terrific show.

It all goes back to music. Without the trust and connections within the music community, none of these endings would have been possible.

Steve has known for years how much joy music brings to him. And for decades he has taken pleasure in spreading that joy to others.

With Steve’s retirement from the production business, he has left a legacy of professionalism, respect and excellence for the state’s music community, professionals and fans.

Please join Steve and share in celebrating The JWF’s 15th year by letting us know what does music mean to you?