Backstage With Aimee Mann: Recognition, Validation, and Being Seen
Back in 2011, my band had the chance to open for Aimee Mann at three of her California shows. The one that stands out the most took place at The Center for the Arts in Grass Valley - a thriving community hub where kids take ballet classes, local musicians and touring acts share the stage, and the arts feel woven into the fabric of the town. That night, the place was buzzing. The theatre was packed, everyone was out to see Aimee Mann and even though my band and I were nervous, there was a warmth in the room that steadied us as we got ready to walk onstage.
After the show, as part of our routine when opening for another act, I handed Aimee a copy of our album as a thank-you. When she looked at it, she immediately recognized the artwork. Her longtime friend and collaborator, Gayle Marowitz - who had done the art direction and design for our record - had used pieces I’d made through various media. Gayle had shown Aimee my work before, so Aimee somehow already knew that someone in the band had created the art.
That artwork carried so many threads of my creative life at the time: scans of woven pieces I made in a textiles class at OCAD, a hand-screened repeat pattern on fabric, little hand-sewn figures in plaid, and a painted backdrop of mountains and desert. So when Aimee looked at me and said, “You did this? I really love it, I remember Gayle showing me this!” it was deeply affirming - like my music and my art had converged in the most unexpected way, and had been truly seen by someone I respected and admired.
Earlier that night, Aimee had even called us “f***ing awesome” from the stage - the kind of praise that, for a young band, carried a weight I’ll never forget. I snapped a blurry photo of her from the side of the stage while she was performing - one of those little mementos you don’t think much of in the moment, but later, it becomes proof that you were really there, sharing the night and the music.
This memory stands in sharp contrast to the handshake moment I wrote about the previously. In that earlier story, recognition came only when another man intervened. With Aimee, it was different: she saw me clearly, celebrated my work, and made sure others saw it too. That kind of solidarity and support between women is so powerful - it fuels you in ways nothing else can.
These little artifacts remind me of that night - a mix of nerves, creativity, community, and an unexpected moment of recognition I’ll always carry with me.
That same thread of music and visual art still runs through my work today. My newest project is a 2026 calendar featuring my paintings of women musicians - a way of celebrating the stories, struggles, and triumphs I’ve been writing about here. If you’d like to have one hanging in your home (or gift it to someone who’d love it), you can find it in my Etsy shop.
Have you ever had a moment where someone you admired - especially another woman - saw you clearly and made you feel recognized? Or a moment where someone’s support gave you lasting confidence? I’d love to hear your story. Hit reply, share in the comments, or even restack if this resonates.
Thanks for reading this far!
Meli
Such a good memory