125 years ago, a yellow brick church was built on Atwood Street in Oakland, a Pittsburgh neighborhood known for its universities. The house of worship has hosted a variety of congregations over its lifetime, from Byzantine Catholics to hookah enthusiasts. Today, six decades since its last formal worship service, the church is brimming with a different kind of spirit: the spirit of DIY.
Despite the emphasis on its singular pronoun, the phrase DIY (do-it-yourself) evokes a connotation of community, especially when it comes to DIY music scenes. Under the yellow church’s new moniker, Haven, community is foundational, because the independent music venue is operated by a completely volunteer-based creative collective called Post Genre. Utilizing a rotating cast of more than 100 dedicated people who exchange their skills in the pursuit of the fleeting musical moment, Haven’s opening in 2025 breaks a 20-year dry spell for music venues in Oakland.
Three years ago, Post Genre was only an idea in the mind of co-founder Eli Alfieri, 24, a musician and music instructor native to Pittsburgh. It didn’t take long for his desire to “unite people through community-oriented programming and live events” to guide him to the people he needed to make this a reality. He revealed his method of finding compatriots, which mostly relies on trusting the universe’s mysterious centripetal force.
“All you need is a couple of crazy friends… and if you don’t have them right now, just start doing crazy things, and you’ll make them.”
For Eli, those crazy friends included his bandmate, Mark Riggio, 21, another co-founder of Post Genre. Mark, a Philadelphia native and owner of the production company 8Trak Entertainment, brought a lot to the table. He’s been obsessed with audio and production equipment since he was a young child, so when he moved to Pittsburgh and started playing in the underground scene, he wanted to create the best show experience wherever he found himself.
“I was like, ‘How can I make this basement sound as good as I possibly can with the resources I have right now?’” Mark said.
Connected by a mutual friend, Mark and Eli quickly bonded over the idea of hosting shows, events and the dream of opening a venue. Their jam band, Wild Blue Yonder, would eventually lead them to Black Lodge, an underground house venue run by the third and final Post Genre co-founder, Adam Klenovich, 22, from Beaver, PA, about 30 miles northeast of Pittsburgh.
One of the inclusive aspects of the DIY music scene is that you don’t actually need to play music to be involved. This is what Adam realized as a high schooler when he started willfully navigating Pittsburgh’s five-and-a-half-foot-tall basements containing hazards like “pipes and beams and sewage leaks” for the thrill of live music. As soon as he moved to Oakland to attend the University of Pittsburgh, he started hosting shows at the house he rented.
“I eventually met Eli and Mark as they were playing shows in my living room,” he laughed.
Haven, a 2,500-square-foot building equipped with professional lighting and audio systems, a 24-by-14-foot stage, a green room for performing artists, air conditioning and a clean, fully operational bathroom, is a far cry from what you would expect from a DIY space. More importantly, it lacks the spectre of a potential visit from law enforcement. Although the added thrill of illegality might make for an adrenaline-filled evening, this was another aspect of DIY music that the co-founders wanted to overcome.
“Our idea was: how do we take the DIY scene and actually elevate it to a point where we could do it legally? [Where] we can’t be shut down because it’s in a living room or in a backyard where there’s noise complaints,” Adam said.
To do this, they needed a space of their own. With his sights set on the church on Atwood Street, Eli reached out to its current owner, Oakland Real Estate Company, who then referred him to Pittsburgh Innovation District, a “next-generation, public-private partnership” that primarily serves the start-up community in the city. In the fall of 2023, Pittsburgh Innovation District allowed Post Genre to host a series of shows at their office space in Oakland, which quickly sold out.
“We ended up selling a little bit over 400 tickets and proving that there was a demand for people who wanted to enjoy live music, and also enjoy live music without alcohol,” Adam said.
At Haven, there’s no bar in the back of the room where senseless chatter drowns out the sound of someone singing their heart out. In fact, there’s no alcohol allowed in the building at all, which was a point Adam drove home.
“There’s been many studies on it now that a lot of Gen Zers don’t drink as much and don’t go out to bars as much. And we want to offer a space where people can meet people, and it’s not all just oriented around drinking and having to get drunk,” he emphasized.
A typical concert venue relies heavily on alcohol sales to stay afloat, so without the revenue from booze, Haven has to be creative with its income sources. Tickets are sold at an affordable rate of $13.75 presale, and $15 at the door. They retain a small percentage of ticket sales to put towards rent and other operational costs, and the performers split the rest. And, the 225 capacity church can be rented out by the public for private events, rehearsals and audio recording sessions. But, the real cost saver is the staff of volunteers.
“The community and the team, that’s our greatest asset,” Mark said.
They might not be making any money from it, but by contributing to a live production at Haven, the collective’s members gain hands-on experience doing event photography, videography, graphic design, marketing, lighting, sound, security, ticketing or any other aspect of the show day that piques their interest. The true return on investment isn’t tangible, anyway, as the collective produces raison d’etre, first and foremost.
After their successful run of shows, Oakland Real Estate Company couldn’t deny the credibility of Post Genre’s mission, nor the dedication of local musicians and the swath of community that supported them. The realtors gave them a chance to host a series of concerts in the church itself, and again, people came out in droves to champion live music in their neighborhood.
“We were able to use that as the basis of, oh, we’re actually able to run this and sell tickets and operate this as a real venue,” Adam said.
Post Genre spent the rest of 2024 raising funds and expanding its team by hosting events like the Oakland Indie Fest. Over the span of a day, 14 local musical acts performed on the green cascades of Schenley Park, and the team raised more than $5,000, which afforded them materials for a stage, new speakers and other needed equipment. Finally, on Friday, January 10, 2025, Haven opened its doors to the public, and they’ve been putting on shows every week since.
When you first step into the church, you’ll be greeted by its sterile, white walls. In an effort to market the church as potential office space, Oakland Real Estate Company covered every last inch of the interior with white paint, which erased some of the church’s historic character. But, this left Post Genre with a completely blank canvas, and artists like Chloe Simpson, 22, are eagerly transforming the sanctuary into a totally eclectic but “comfortable space to vibe in.”
Originally from Baltimore, MD, Chloe came to Pittsburgh to study Urban Studies and Film Production. On most show nights, you can find her working on a piece of art in a cozy corner of the elevated choir loft beneath a wall adorned with tapestries. She joined Post Genre’s team about two years ago after recognizing how the collective’s work matched her ideals of community placemaking.
“We all feel good when we’re there, and we all feel good when we’re working together to basically create an experience for other people to enjoy,” Chloe said.
Under Chloe’s purview, Haven’s interior is being pasted with original artwork, collaborative collages, string lights, trinkets, weird lamps, disco balls, fake plants, paper chains and two massive gold eagles that used to stand guard at The Decade (a shuttered Oakland venue that hosted the likes of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and The Ramones). The goal for the space is clear as light shines through the intricate stained glass windows onto a captivated audience focused on engaging performers, surrounded by colorful ephemera.
“I want people to feel excited. I want them to feel safe. I want them to feel at home. I want them to feel like they’re getting an experience that they couldn’t really get anywhere else,” Chloe said.
When the world (re: rust belt cities) around us is being knocked down, flattened into parking lots, and rebuilt with indistinguishable ticky tacky, it’s a blessing to step into a space that feels genuinely authentic. In this regard, Haven lives up to its name.
Ultimately, your life is what you make it; what you do. That’s how Post Genre pays homage to the DIY scenes of the 1980s, when people rejected the corporate auspices of the music industry and took power into their own hands. The collective actively chooses to uplift local music, and they’re willing to make sacrifices for it. And they serve as a reminder that it can be done anywhere, as long as there are people who value art and are willing to do the work it asks of us.
“Who cares if there’s like five people at a show, or if there’s like a hundred people at a show. I think the metric should be just, ‘Whoa, that was an amazing performance,’” Mark stated.
Right now, there is at least one person in your town, city or unincorporated collection of streets, making art for the sake of art — music for the sake of music. Hearing interpretations of life from local voices allows us to better connect with ourselves, and that reflects back outward in our ability to connect with each other. This directly correlates with the meaning of Post Genre’s name.
“I think that you create something based off of the emotions that you’re feeling and how you’re trying to work through them… and that’s not really a genre conforming thing,” Eli explained.
There is no genre for the feeling of joy in your heart when you’re surrounded by both friends and strangers, caught in the present moment, a moment that’s sustained by creativity and vulnerability. There is no genre for a community with a purpose.
This is the higher power of DIY, and you can find it at Haven.
Photos by Colin Tierney & Anya Hammer
