For several months last summer, two Pitt students scavenged the streets of Oakland in search of… For several months last summer, two Pitt students scavenged the streets of Oakland in search of couches to tear apart. The two were looking to find the egg crate foam they needed to soundproof the walls of their basement to host regular music nights.

Now the otherwise sparsely decorated basement on Ophelia Street has patches of foam adorning its walls. In the yellow glow of the mismatched light fixtures and naked bulbs, musicians and bands from local colleges use the space in an alcove as a stage every other Thursday.

The home of Pitt seniors Ben Greenwood and Lukas Truckenbrod has become a meeting place for musicians, a laboratory for style experimentation and a party at their casual gatherings that are open to the public.

Though Greenwood and Truckenbrod know of other houses that host music nights, as far as they know, theirs is the only house catering specifically to Oakland musicians, particularly those at colleges in the area.

Greenwood and Truckenbrod were roommates freshman year and played together in a band called Sleeping in Class. The two found it difficult to find a casual outlet.

“We were unable to locate any kind of music scene in Oakland. It’s hard to network,” said Truckenbrod, now a member of the band The Whiskey Holler. “The main motivation was just to provide a place for students to hear what’s going on and [for] new musicians to demonstrate what they’ve been working on.”

This fall, the two roommates decided they wanted to open their house to local musicians. But before they began inviting friends and neighbors, they had to revamp their unfinished basement.

“It was just in shambles, and we spent a few hours down there and organized,” Truckenbrod said.

The pair then began ripping apart couches left out for trash to find egg crate foam to soundproof the walls, something they think will be easy to remove when they move out. Greenwood said buying the same foam in a store would have cost them up to $10 per square foot.

By last September, they were ready to host a music party and invited friends through Facebook. Despite his excitement, Greenwood, who is a member of the band SleepyV, admitted to having some reservations about the parties.

“I’m a little nervous usually before it starts because, on the one hand, what if no one shows up? How embarrassing would that be? And on the other hand, what if so many people show up and smoke in your living room and your landlord yells at you?” he said.

But people did show up. At first 30 or so, then progressively more until, they had up to 70 attendees, according to Greenwood’s estimates.

“It seems — if we tabulated Facebook attendees — [that] it’s a steady rise,” Greenwood said.

Even at parties during the winter when weather was bad, the parties still boasted a good turnout. The bulk of attendees stayed in the basement, where the acts performed.

Walking up and down the steep wooden stairs becomes increasingly difficult throughout the evening as the house fills with people, who cram into the corners of the basement to watch and listen.

The room is long and rectangular. The stage area is a deep alcove in the center with only enough room between it and the stairs to allow for a crowd two or three deep. As a result, the audience and musicians cluster at the sides of the stage, sometimes sitting on the amps lining the stage wall. The locale creates an intimate and social atmosphere.

From sign-ups on Facebook, Greenwood and Truckenbrod schedule about six or seven local acts for the night on a first-come-first-served basis.

One of the performers at a past party was Caitlin Magarity, who studies cinema and digital arts at Point Park. As she played, the singer sat in the center of the stage curled around her guitar with one foot perched atop the other. Her voice quavered in the beginning, her eyes cast toward her guitar strings. At first, they resounded louder than her own singing.

When Magarity stuttered on a lyric, she smiled apologetically as someone from the crowd said, “Just breathe.” Soon her shaking calmed, and she delivered a smooth and melodious performance. In a conversation later, Greenwood said, “Isn’t she great?”

Magarity feels that sometimes the intimacy adds to the pressure of performing.

“It’s just a room full of people I don’t know standing over me … I’m more comfortable when I see the lights, like, blinding me,” she said. The parties have begun to create a community of individuals who support one another in their musical endeavors.

“Generally, no, people aren’t nervous,” Greenwood said.

In addition to providing space to play, these parties have also allowed musicians to influence one another, as well as provided the opportunity for the audience to give feedback, Truckenbrod said. He noted that one of the music night acts, Good/Ease — a combination of spoken word, moments of hip-hop and indie-pop choruses — popped up from someone’s suggestion on the event’s Facebook wall.

“They’re taking active interest in what they want to hear,” Truckenbrod said of the concertgoers.

Greenwood said these collaborations are becoming more common in the community they’ve built.

“That’s something that’s been born out of these open mic nights. That probably wouldn’t exist without open mic night. I’m glad I did it,” he said.

Greenwood said he feels the music nights foster the local music scene in a way that encourages not just creation, but expansion.

“Pittsburgh — and especially Oakland — is a place where I feel like a lot of young musicians and artists think there’s no scene here because there is no scene here … but I don’t think you should flock to a scene, you should create your own.”

For more information, e-mail Ben Greenwood at [email protected].