A sanctuary in song

The Haven, a small church downtown that supports local artists by providing them a venue, will remind you of your artistic friend’s Spanish Town shotgun house more than it will your place of worship. On a recent Friday night, Peter Simón steps behind a microphone to function as both pastor and confessor. His clear voice is pondering, lamenting, forgiving. “I don’t want to burn any bridges with you,” he sings, “or stay on this side alone.”

Lit by a string of Christmas lights, Simón performs for the whole block—the retired ladies who arrived early to get the best seats in the house (that would be the couch in the back of the room), the young guy capturing the performance on his iPad so he can share it with his friend who got stuck at work, and the high-school ballerina so secure in herself she doesn’t mind sharing an evening with her parents. The other guests—friends I know already and friends I’ll meet tonight—sit, comfortably and attentively, in mismatched chairs. They fill their bodies with beverages and snacks they brought from home. They open their ears and their souls to Simón’s clear, simple sound.

That Simón feels at home in this house of worship is no surprise. His earliest performances were in small evangelical churches. “In that space,” he says, “the spirit ‘moves’ and the band does its best to follow.” It’s a form of improvisation the artist embraces.

Although he ventured beyond religious music in college, he still thinks the art form can provide an avenue to worship. “I believe there are just a few life experiences that we can connect with a higher power, but for sure, music is one of them,” he says.

Inside the Haven, Simón is accompanied by Ben Harrington on accordion, and the music moves from plaintive to joyful and back again. When I leave, my soul has been fed, and loving my neighbor seems less like a command and more like a natural state of being. “That’s the beauty of music,” muses Simón. “There’s no sacred or secular. It’s all sacred.”

petersimonmusic.com