Rochester is not always loud about its cultural shifts. More often, they show up in patterns only noticeable once they have taken hold. Each June, that pattern becomes easier to see during the Rochester International Jazz Festival. The city absorbs thousands of visitors, stages multiply across down town and music becomes one of the main ways people move through space. What looks like a festival is also a snapshot of an existing system — musicians, venues, educators and audiences already linked through a year of smaller, less visible exchanges. What is even less visible is how much of that system depends on informal infrastructure. School programs, neighborhood rehearsals, pop-up performances and community spaces that rarely register as part of a larger cultural network, even though they are. That gap between visibility and daily practice is where the Local Sound Collaborative has been building. During a recent phone interview with CITY, Ray Mahar described the work in practical terms. He does not frame it as an arts initiative, so much as a structure that keeps musicians active and connected. Over the past four years, new programs have been added, participation has widened and the range of musicians involved now spans early learners to working professionals. Two years ago, the Collaborative established a base in the Rochester Public Market neighborhood. That move increased exposure and changed how the organization functioned day-to-day. Activity became more consistent. Programming became easier to access. Growth followed. Now, the next step is geographic: downtown. “We can make a move somewhere central,” Mahar said, “where our stakeholders and constituents can see us.” The plan is the East Avenue and Alexander Street corridor, where entertainment, foot traffic and cultural activity already overlap. The model is a flexible performance space built around a pop-up stage, designed to shift depending on programming needs rather than fixed programming schedules. Initial funding of roughly $20,000 would support equipment and setup; the scale is intentionally modest. Inside the organization, programming already runs across multiple levels. Early childhood music classes, informal performance spaces and intergenerational ensembles all operate within the same structure. Participants often move between roles over time. “We are not a music school,” Mahar said. “We are a music hub.” The distinction is important operationally. Instruction is only one function, and the larger goal is sustained participation across different points of entry. That approach also shapes internal culture. Staff meetings begin with brief icebreakers, a practice Mahar carried over from earlier work as a summer camp counselor. “They pick on me for it,” he said, “but I keep it.” The purpose is to establish basic connections before moving into logistics. It is a small structural choice, but one that reflects a broader concern about fragmentation in community-based work. At a city level, Rochester’s cultural output is often measured through external benchmarks. One national arts vibrancy index ranks it 19th among large U.S. cities in supply, demand and institutional support for the arts. The ranking places Rochester in a notable position, especially given its population size relative to other cities in the same category. But the challenge is that these measurements capture output more easily than cohesion. They reflect how much activity exists, not how connected it is over time. Mahar returns often to the idea that cultural systems only hold when they become part of everyday life, rather than isolated events. His previous career at Foodlink shaped that view. Food, he said, is not abstract. It is immediate. He believes music functions in a similar way. “Everyone can get around the idea that people need to eat,” he said. “But people (also) need music. People need art. It draws people together. It is essential.” The question becomes not how to expand cultural programming, but how to embed it more deeply into everyday systems. That often means smaller, more distributed forms of access like pop-up performances, neighborhood ensembles and recurring community gatherings that allow people to enter and exit cultural participation without formal barriers. Mahar compares it to the early growth of the microbrewery sector. What began as a scattered set of independent efforts eventually became an integrated cultural and economic identity in many cities. The key shift was not scale alone, but consistency over time. The comparison becomes clearer when looking at musicians working within the local system. Percussionist Wilfredo (Freddy) Colón is part of the Collaborative’s 2025 cohort, which received monthly grant stipends toward musical work. His career includes performances with Aretha Franklin, Tito Puente and Philip Bailey, as well as ongoing work as a performer, educator and bandleader with Freddy Colón and The Latin Jazz Quartet. His entry into the Collaborative was low stakes. “I got referred by a friend,” he said. “I filled out the application. I was like, ‘let’s give it a shot.’” Like many working musicians, Colón describes the financial realities of the field in direct terms. Wilfredo (Freddy) Colón. PHOTO BY ROBERTO FELIPE LAGARES. “It is pretty tough being a musician in this area,” he said. “The money helped me buy sticks, drumheads, things of that nature. But the support they offered was big.” What he emphasizes most is the consistency of engagement, not just the funding. “I went to events and I saw the great work,” he said. “They were extremely supportive. Ray is doing a great job.” Colón also points to the Collaborative’s presence in schools and the involvement of musicians like Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra third trumpet Herb Smith on its board as part of a broader support structure for younger players. For Colón, music carries a responsibility that extends beyond performance. Afro-Caribbean and Latin jazz traditions, he said, are not just styles but histories in motion. “I am responsible for a person who has never heard that music before,” Colón said. “When I am playing, I want them to leave with a nugget of knowing.” He referenced educational settings where younger audiences encounter forms like bomba and plena for the first time. “A lot of younger Puerto Ricans have not heard that,” he said. “It was grandpa’s music and now it is mainstream.” He traces similar shifts in bachata, a genre that moved from cultural margins in the Dominican Republic to global circulation. “Now, (as) a DJ, I play it at parties,” he said. “It is very requested.” These movements between tradition and visibility mirror the broader dynamics the Collaborative is trying to work within — how cultural memory is maintained, adapted and passed forward. That context also reframes what happens each June during the Rochester International Jazz Festival. The festival is not the starting point; rather, it’s where existing networks become visible at scale. This year, Colón’s presence at the festival on June 26 reflects that continuity directly. “(You) will see me at the Jazz Fest twice (that day),” he said. “I will open up with the Mambo Kings — we are going on 27 years. I will close out the night with 5 Con Swing, my salsa band.” 5 Con Swing began in 2017 as an informal ensemble and gradually became more structured through repetition and performance. “We do not rehearse,” said Colón. “We just create at all times. We have an amazing chemistry.” That chemistry reflects a larger point about how musical ecosystems function. They are built less through isolated performances and more through sustained relationships over time. From that perspective, the Collaborative’s downtown move is not only about location. It is about making those relationships more visible and more connected within a shared space. “What if we just give people money?” said Mahar. “Not a hundred artists. Maybe five.” So they do. The idea is not broad distribution, but concentrated support that allows stability to form. Mahar points to other cities where sustained investment in music infrastructure has shaped long-term identity. “Twenty-five years ago, Nashville was similar in size to Rochester,” he said. “Now, it is a huge city. And when you think of Nashville, you think of music.” The difference, he suggested, is accumulation over time. The Collaborative’s move downtown places an existing network into closer proximity with the public spaces where culture is already happening. The question is whether that proximity can strengthen the system as a whole. Because the issue is not how much music Rochester produces; it is whether the systems around it are built to sustain what already exists. thelocalsoundcollaborative.org  George Cassidy Payne is a writer and journalist exploring the intersections of art, culture and social justice in Western New York. He also works as a crisis counselor and community organizer, bringing a deep commitment to storytelling and human connection. The post The Local Sound Collaborative follows the music to East and Alexander appeared first on CITY Magazine. Arts. Music. Culture.. ...read more read less