​At Parachigo, existence is resistance: artist collective fills Fargo’s need for the extraordinary

By Tylar Frame

tylarframephoto@gmail.com

To the Ashtagrama community in the Karnataka region of India, “Parachigo” means “a group of little stinkers.”

Anjali Karna — local activist, artist and community organizer — learned the word from their father. When it came time for them to choose a name for downtown Fargo’s newest DIY venue, nothing felt more fitting. After all, what better word could describe a small group of people willing to do almost anything to keep local art alive and well in their community?

It all started when the building that used to house the Red River Women’s Clinic became vacant after Roe v. Wade was overturned, forcing the business to move across the river into Moorhead. Karna was working with a non-profit at the time that was in search of a new location. The clinic building wound up not being the right fit for that specific organization, but Karna knew the space was too special to let go.

“With gentrification and all of the things that move into downtown, if you’re offered a building in downtown to represent the people, it’s like you have to take it,” Karna said.

They managed to cobble together a group of artists and rent the place out for a year. Suddenly, the empty building was teeming with life again. Office cubicles were repurposed into artist workspaces. A stage was installed in the waiting room. One artist collaged on top of the kitchen cabinets, while another painted a beautiful mural on the main floor.

Parachigo’s existence felt like a reclamation of sorts. The music and art scene had taken several big hits over the past few years, namely with the closure of The New Direction, the only other music venue in town that regularly hosted all ages shows.

“I think we have an isolation issue and a drinking issue in Fargo, and those two things are intermingling all of the time,” Karna said. “So I think it’s important to have a space where it’s safe for kids to come in and experiment with art and music without being worried about being in too ‘adult’ of an environment.”

As a teenager, Karna was a frequent visitor to Fargo’s third places. They were “too shy to make friends,” but this eventually pushed them to learn how to play an instrument so they could become more involved in the community. Making music is something that’s still vitally important in Karna’s life, 16 years later.

“To me, this is, selfishly, sustaining the way that I grew up and found magic in the world,” they said. The fight to keep that magic alive has not been an easy one.

“We didn’t have any savings when we started, and we opened in a short period of time,” Karna said. “That’s kind of been a downfall to figure out.”

Unexpected bills are a life or death matter for a place like Parachigo. It’s volunteer-run, meaning nobody benefits financially from the work they put into the space. Everything is done out of passion and every penny that’s made is put right back into the space.

“Every nest egg we build is at risk of going away with the next problem,” Karna explained. “Perhaps the heater goes out or something, then you have to fix that. But then you can’t have any more failures.”

After the lease at the Women’s Clinic expired, Parachigo searched high and low for an affordable space downtown that allowed live music performances. The pickings were slim and they had to take what they could get — a cement-walled storage room in the interior of a building became their new music venue, with the artist studios in a separate space on the second floor.

The year-long lease at this location was full of struggles. A gaping hole in the ceiling of the venue exposed water pipes from the apartment unit above, which eventually began to leak all over the art in Parachigo’s storefront. Air conditioning had to be installed, which cost thousands of dollars. There was no direct access from the street, so people got lost when trying to attend events. They weren’t allowed to paint or hang anything on the walls.

Despite all of the obstacles, they made it work for a year. Then when it came time to move, what seemed like the ideal location happened to be available; 14 8th Street S. in Fargo. It had previously been a tattoo parlor, which meant it had decently-sized half-walled cubicles that were the perfect size for artist studios. They were able to paint and decorate how they pleased again. A large window and a door right off the street allow for easy access to patrons.

After getting settled in at this new location, the group was feeling like they’d finally gotten a handle on the financial side of things when suddenly they were notified that they had two weeks to come up with $7,500 or risk being evicted. It felt like an impossible goal to meet.

Thanks to the help of the community, they surpassed their goal just in the nick of time. Some generous people were able to contribute larger sums of cash. But what really pushed Parachigo across the finish line were the hundreds of small donations from hundreds of people who might not have the money to spare, but sent what they could anyway.

It’s a place that’s “by the people, for the people” as Karna says. So it makes sense that Parachigo can only live to see another day thanks to the community that it’s built.

“In a way, it’s preserving the culture of the people in a society with increasing advertisement, and increasing social isolation and misperceptions of what emotions are,” said Karna. “It’s a real thing in a world where it’s hard to be real.”

Local musician Nashat Khan, who performs under the name ShottytheBeam, is just one of the people that Parachigo has helped along the way. Khan is 23 years old, but has been making music for several years. For a while, he struggled to find places to perform due to some venues’ age restrictions. Either he was too young to perform, or his fans (who tend to be around his age or younger) would be unable to attend his performances. On top of that, he knew that his fans might not have a lot of money to spare, and venues often require a certain amount of money to be split between themselves and the artist performing.

“It’s really accessible and affordable,” Khan said. “People that have never made music before can somehow get involved, and that’s so important. There’s usually a lot of hurdles to jump through when booking a show, but when it comes to Parachigo, it’s very easy.”

It’s become increasingly harder in recent years to find places to gather where you aren’t expected to spend money in order to socialize. Parachigo has implemented a policy that many third places employ, called NOTAFLOF, which stands for “no one turned away for lack of funds.” This ensures that anybody, no matter their financial situation, can enjoy spending time with people who share their interests.

“It’s a place for people to meet people and learn their trades and learn what brings them joy in a society where it’s increasingly getting harder to have free time, or afford places, or not be isolated,” said Karna. “It’s an art gym. It’s really easy to try out an event idea here, or play your first show here. Never be afraid to send us an e-mail no matter how weird the idea. That’s specifically what we’re here for.”

Khan goes so far as to say that “Parachigo’s existence is resistance,” especially in a state like North Dakota where people aren’t always welcoming to those that are different from themselves.

Parachigo has evolved into something greater than it once was. No longer an idea, it’s a real, important part of Downtown Fargo.

It’s a sober space that welcomes people of all ages. It offers affordable rentals for community members looking to host an event, artists that want a studio and musicians who need somewhere to practice. There’s a storefront where local artists can sell their work.

Across three locations, the collective has hosted countless events both large and small. Open mic nights, talent shows, how-to classes of all kinds, queer support groups, drag shows, movie nights and more. For the past couple of years, they’ve even been the host of a huge multi-day noise music festival, bringing people from all over the country to play on Parachigo’s humble stage.

For many in the Fargo/Moorhead area and even beyond, it’s become an absolute necessity. A lifeline. It’s proof that, no matter the hardships, community can, and will, prevail. Because it must.

“It’s my ‘Eraserhead’ baby,” Karna laughed.

While the word “Parachigo” may refer to a “group of little stinkers,” it has also become synonymous with community, safety, and defiance. In a city that preaches being “north of normal,” Parachigo is a beautiful testament to just how weird Fargo can get.