March Showcase at the Brown County Playhouse. photo by Nuk Mills
Showcasing The Stream
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usicians. Ask their friends, family, and bartenders about them, and you’re likely to hear words like “creative” and “talented” and “brilliant.” Perhaps—meant in a good way—even “sensitive.” What you may not hear so often, though: “highly organized” or “financially solvent” or “super dependable.” (Full disclosure: I’m a musician myself. Which is why I’m allowed to say this about musicians.) There are exceptions to the stereotype, of course. Such as Kenan Rainwater, thirty-nineyear-old owner and founder of Rainwater Studios, a creative hub east of Bean Blossom, specializing in live and recorded music. For many of Kenan’s peers, music begins and ends with their
ability on an instrument or in their songwriting, and finding gigs. But he sees songs and performances as links in a bigger chain—a chain that secures and protects an entire local music culture. Through his experience, vision, and Brown County DNA, Kenan’s been forging that chain for years now, adding new links as opportunities arise. The result: a mini-empire encompassing music and video production, artist development, internet media, and live performance. Kenan credits his deep roots in Brown County’s musical community with Rainwater Studios’ growth over the years. “I started playing with older guys in living rooms in my early twenties,” he recalls. Before long, he was playing at places like
30 Our Brown County May/June 2021
~by Ryan Stacy
Muddy Boots and Big Woods in Nashville and putting together his own bands (Indiana Boys, Rainwater), negotiating with his brothers for use of the family’s four-car garage they used for working on cars. “Initially, I set it up so that we could convert easily between music rehearsal and automotive stuff,” he says. Always on the lookout for ways to promote his musical projects, Kenan started recording his live shows and streaming video of rehearsals at the garage. “I’d been streaming the band [Rainwater] a little bit on my personal Facebook page, so I committed to streaming every Wednesday night, learning the ins and outs of doing that,” he explains. Sometimes he was joined by the “Swamping Crew,” a bunch of friends who “basically just did a bunch of experimental stuff” as he learned how to work in the
