Lions Den House Concerts

From a New York Loft to the Lions Den House Concerts

In the early 2000s, I was living in New York City, surrounded by artistic possibility. One day, by chance, I wandered into a Soho coffee shop called Spark, run by a warm, progressive couple from Israel. Over a lavender latte, our conversation drifted into the origins of the soul. As the conversation continued, I found out that the coffee shop which was part of an industrial loft , sat empty most nights, and before long we “sparked” a deal: I could use it for a Saturday night concert series; they would gain late-night customers.

Within weeks, I hung a deep purple curtain scattered with stars across the bare space, transforming it into a stage. Every second Saturday, the loft came alive with New York’s rich diversity — modern classical premieres, free jazz nights, improvised dance, live sculpture, spoken word, DJ sets. Much of it was created in the moment, and we left each night high not on drugs, but on creativity and friendship.

Then came September 11, 2001. In the months that followed, the economic fallout hit artists hard. Venues closed, jobs vanished, and the performing arts — already under pressure — entered a period of deep struggle. Over the years, digitization, funding cuts, the pandemic, and other global challenges have only accelerated the decline.

Yet I remain an optimist. I believe something new and more inclusive can emerge — a grassroots movement fueled by individual initiative, sustaining those who create and inspire. Every one of us — parents, seniors, children, educators, politicians, audiences, newcomers — has a role to play.

With that conviction, and the enduring inspiration of my Spark days, I shared an idea with my husband: to open our home for live music. We called it the Lion’s Den House Concerts, named for the majestic Two Lions peaks that rise above us. Then the room transforms. My husband opens the cellar — wines chosen carefully from a private collection of over 1,400 bottles, many of them 90-point-and-above selections from the 2010s, imported from the United States and unavailable anywhere in British Columbia. Poured at exactly the right temperature, the moment the music ends. Hors d’oeuvres are passed. Artists linger. And what happens next is the part I find hardest to describe. The room fills with people who have almost nothing in common except the music they just heard and the glass in their hand — and somehow, that turns out to be everything. They arrive strangers, but depart as friends. 

With Gratitude

None of this would exist without my husband Robert — a devoted music lover who not only designed our home with performance in mind, but who curates the wine, shapes the post-show experience, and brings to every evening the same care and intention he brings to everything he does. And to our young son, who has grown up welcoming artists and audiences into our home with a generosity that continues to move me.

To every performer who has graced our living room: thank you for trusting us with your art. To every guest who has walked through our door: thank you for bringing this community to life.

Gergana Velinova, Artistic Director, Lion’s Den House Concerts