Some Still Drawn to the Flame

It might not match the thrill of turning up the volume, but for many performers, lighting a fireworks fuse has become a powerful temptation.

Since the 1970s, when the cartoonish rock band KISS pioneered the use of indoor fireworks, many pop music performers have been counting on pyrotechnics to punch up their acts. Fireworks industry veterans say their clients range from rockers to rappers, from wrestlers to magicians to convention planners, all looking to enliven presentations.

It was just such a pyrotechnic show, staged by the rock band Great White in a small Rhode Island club Thursday night, that erupted in flames, leaving scores of dead and wounded.

Industry veterans also point out that pyrotechnics have become standard on televised music awards shows, which would-be stars watch closely for inspiration.

“The more they see it on television, the more they want to do what everybody else does,” said Lisa Zigmont, who with her husband, Steve, has run Zigmont Magic F/X, a Brandon, Fla.-based pyrotechnics business, for 16 years.

“The fans love the fire and we are here to give them what they want,” said bassist Corey Parks, who has been breathing fire regularly over the past seven years as part of her duties with the hard-rock band Nashville Pussy and more recently as a member of Duane Peters & the Hunns.

Parks said she’s never had a problem with fire, and has run into little resistance from club operators. But she also acknowledged that she only realized she needed permits in 1999, on a tour with Marilyn Manson.

“We couldn’t afford the insurance, so we didn’t do flame on that tour,” Parks said. “Ironically, those would have been the safest places to do it because they were giant venues with large stages and high ceilings.”

Robert P. Benoit, the fire chief of Lafayette, La., found how difficult it can be to restrict fiery displays last summer when he refused to allow the rapper Lil Bow Wow to use 20 pounds of propane to make flames for a concert at the Cajundome. Benoit said 5 pounds was the limit.

“It came to the point where I said, ‘If you don’t come in with a 5-pound container, you can’t have a show. I won’t allow it,’ ” Benoit recalled.

In the end, no propane was used. But Benoit, who had earlier put his foot down over pyrotechnics use at a Kid Rock concert at the same arena, said his hard-line stance put him on the hot seat with some local officials and drew derisive chatter on the local radio stations. “I was not a popular person,” he said.

To be sure, it’s still a minority of musicians nationwide setting off sparks, and indoor shows are rarer still. In Southern California, several club owners said they scorn indoor fireworks not only for safety reasons, but also because the idea seems tired.

But among bands and other performers nationwide, pyrotechnics industry insiders say, the lure of a heightened light show can be powerful. And it’s not difficult, some of those insiders say, for an amateur to sidestep federal licensing requirements and buy serious pyrotechnical material.

In many cases, a band bringing a fireworks-punctuated show to a small club poses a particular risk. Apart from the challenges of managing fire in a confined indoor space, industry veterans say, proprietors of small clubs are less likely to be alert to all the local, state and federal regulations that apply to pyrotechnics. And, sometimes, bands don’t tell club owners what they’re going to set off.

“All club owners got a wake-up call today,” Julie L. Heckman, spokeswoman for the Bethesda, Md.-based American Pyrotechnics Assn., said Friday. The association represents 260 companies that make, import, distribute or use fireworks, indoors and outdoors.

The problem, said Steve Zigmont, is that “there are magicians, there are bands, there are many different types of entertainers that just don’t have a sense of the law. They think it’s a God-given right to do fireworks. The mentality is: ‘Do it and ask questions later.’ ”

Although most fireworks sales are made by half a dozen major companies that do business only with licensed pyrotechnicians, Zigmont said it’s not hard to find “underground” companies, sometimes on the Internet, that will sell fireworks without asking too many questions.

Industry standards, set by the National Fire Protection Assn., call for two fire extinguishers to be next to the pyrotechnics display, in addition to the building’s usual firefighting materials; for a distance of at least 15 feet between pyrotechnics and audience; and often for a firefighter to be on the scene.

Compared with those safety measures, Zigmont said, the cost of the fireworks themselves is a pittance. As an example, he cited gerbs (pronounced jerbs), one of the most common devices in the trade. A gerb is a fireproof plastic or cardboard cylinder up to 6 inches long anchored in a metal base and capped with clay. The fireworks erupt when the operator touches off powder inside (usually with titanium or aluminum flakes), which bursts into “a bush of sparks” at one end.

Depending on the power, and the size and shape of the cylinder, size and duration of the sparks vary. Ten-foot, 10-second gerbs are a common specification.

In the heyday of KISS, Zigmont said, a concert might see 200 gerbs lighted up.

“Some gerbs are $15 apiece. But the insurance is $5,000 minimum, for the million-dollar policy,” Zigmont said.

Fireworks experts said the videotape of the Rhode Island catastrophe seemed to show poorly placed gerbs. A flash pot, which usually produces a sudden burst and puff of smoke rather than sustained sparks, is typically a quarter-inch steel pipe, welded onto a plate for stability, that erupts when incendiary powder is mixed within and touched off with an electric match, often known as “a squib.”

At the Roxy in West Hollywood, co-owner Nic Adler said flatly: “We have never, and will never, allow pyrotechnics to be used in the Roxy.” Nikki Sweet, the Roxy’s booking agent, estimated that in the last five years, the venue has only fielded two requests from bands hoping to use pyrotechnics. “It’s something that occurs in an amphitheater or arena situation, or it just doesn’t happen.”

“In the club business, there’s a reoccurring nightmare of people dying in your building,” said Ken Phebus, a booking agent for Southern California clubs for the past 30 years. “You wake up in the middle of the night thinking about it. It’s horrifying.... And the way lighting effects are today, why bother? It’s like holding a sparkler up against a fireworks display. It’s passe.”

Gary Folgner, who operates the 550-capacity Coach House in San Juan Capistrano and the 600-capacity Galaxy in Santa Ana, is similarly wary. “In all the time I’ve been doing this, which is 22 years, I’ve probably had 10 groups that wanted to use pyrotechnics,” he said Friday.

“We’ve never allowed it. Great White played for us about 12 times and has never wanted to use pyrotechnics. It’s never been an issue.”

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Staff writer Ken Ellingwood contributed to this report.