Beauty and the Beast: How a Rock Show and a Magazine Can Both Feel Like Slaying a Dragon
Musician and magazine publisher Hannah Wicklund discusses the similarities between putting together a set list and a magazine.
I began crafting set lists when I started my band at nine years old, and it truly is an art form. I went from charting out every song on a piece of paper, following it to a tee as if it were a complex recipe I was afraid to mess up, to abandoning it completely and following my intuition in real time on stage by the time I was 12 years old. When performing rock-n-roll, the energy from the crowd is as important to the show as any note or song you might play, and learning to read the room was an invaluable lesson that has come in handy more times than I could have imagined in this wild life of mine…
For example, 20 years later, I find myself crafting and sequencing my very own interactive creative arts magazine, the Strawberry Moon Tribune. I’m still following my intuition, but instead of reading the energy of a room full of people, I’m reading the energy of each piece of art and literature and allowing the colors and the intention behind every word to guide me. To be honest, it’s the most exhilarating step of the project; it’s the ultimate puzzle that is meant to take the reader on an adventure, just like any good show, any good album, or any great guitar solo. There is a beginning, a middle, and an end. This we all understand; but the arc of the experience is far more nuanced than just three parts.
Think back to your favorite conversations you’ve ever had. What made them so enthralling? So captivating? Was it their predictability? Or was it the opposite? Most of my greatest life experiences were unexpected... isn’t that what good art is as well? Something that starts one way but brings you to a place further than you planned to go. A conversation is never just between two people; for there is an inner dialogue that each of us carries alongside whatever we are experiencing in any given moment. As humans, our brains and bodies are constantly digesting, categorizing, and processing the information in front of us. So, nothing is ever simply as it seems––the reader, viewer, or the listener is as much a part of the art as the art itself.
When it comes to my music, I like to start big; each show of mine historically has begun with one epic guitar solo that sets the show up as the dynamic rollercoaster ride it is intended to be. I’ll usually hit them hard with big riffs, heavy drums, and a lot of overdrive, and lead into one or two songs that carry that torch. But then, as if we are taking a left turn, I like to soften things up and lend the audience a moment to breathe. I’ll play a mid-tempo ballad with a cleaned-up tone and keep us there for another two to three songs. By this point, I can feel the audience craving more energy and I ratchet things up to bring forth the end of the beginning; a nice crescendo before dropping the band entirely and entering a more intimate solo section.
It can be deceiving; one person on a stage with a guitar may seem like a light, hollow mid-section, but I fancy it the opposite. In the space, the heaviest and most profound lyrics of the set can make their full impact. The middle is where the deepest reflection and introspection take place; a juxtaposition of sorts to the boisterous rock show it is sandwiched between. The heart of the matter; the reason we are all there together. My words, I hope, invoke something within each listener that reminds them of their greatest dreams and desires and where they may have abandoned them along the way. Hopefully, those same lyrics of mine inspire them to grab ahold and bring them back to life if they so need that invocation.
By the time we reach the end of the set, it’s time to offer a mix of everything and to combine the light with the dark and intertwine all those emotions into a few final songs (and guitar solos!). By the time the night is through, we should all feel as if we have slayed a dragon together; perhaps that dragon is fear. Fear to be ourselves, fear of being seen, of being heard, of being felt…
I find great responsibility in being an artist, for our influence on the world around us is quite profound. Anyone who takes the time to absorb your point of view is forever impacted. So, much like a good conversation, my aim is to engage the recipient and encourage them to touch down to the bottom of their own being and see what there is to unearth. The flow to which you perform, or sequence information directly impacts that experience, and I will forever seek to take us all on a journey together. For that is where the true magic happens.
This magazine I started is no different. Except the responsibility feels far greater, because they are no longer only my words I’m sharing and putting out into this world, but so many others as well. Within the scope of this project I write, sequence, and publish it myself, with the help of an amazing editor, and being this magazine’s shepherd has become one of the greatest joys of my life.
I decided to start the magazine by introducing the song to the readers and providing them the story behind the main message and title of that specific volume, essentially setting the stage. The song’s lyrics then lead into the accompanying imagery, followed by the featured artist, of which there is one per track who have created a piece solely inspired by the song. It’s important for me to follow this deep dive into my music with some hearty information for folks to latch onto; much like after a long intuitive jam section you want to give folks a nice three-minute straight ahead track to easily absorb.
Readers will then find a ritual written by our resident witch, and a breakdown of the astrology happening at that moment in time. In a lot of ways, I’m balancing and sequencing the introspective and personal creations with information-based pieces. Almost like we are zig zagging between expression and education. The mid-section of the magazine holds herbalist wisdom and Ayurvedic recipes, before we enter the reflective, journaling space followed by the poetry part of the equation. Within the poetry section I pair poems with art, and we offer a poetry prompt for the reader to create their own expressions with.
This takes us then to the recurring story; What Blooms Beneath the Moon. There is a chapter within each volume of the Tribune that tells the story of internalized misogyny through a vicious Queen, which I decided to be the final written piece for each volume serving as the anchor in way. This story is an escape from this world, and in a way is the reward for having faced many truths in the pages that proceed it.
After this fantastical portion, we end with some truly needed wisdom and information; a cycle tracker for women to learn about their own bodies and track how their cycle aligns with the moon and the world around them. I felt it was important to have this space easily findable to encourage those using the Tribune to truly track their mood and symptoms and stay engaged with the mind-body connection. Just as with a set list, I aim to take the reader through a journey, hopefully keeping their interest by offering a variety of pieces and styles along the way, sequenced to tell the story of how you can empower yourself and others through knowledge and coherence.
The absolute foundation of this publication is that it is meant to be a container for the ancient wisdom we each hold within. The reader is encouraged to write their own dreams and introspections within its pages and even submit their own work to be featured in future issues if they so desire to be seen. For their inner dialogue deserves to be witnessed, even if only by themselves.
My hope is that within the Tribune, it provides the duality of life’s offerings. The good with the bad, the dark with the light, the beauty and the beast.









