Whiteleaf Private Concert Club founder is ready to rock

Barry Weisblatt is banking on the notion that there are 275 people in the greater Sarasota market who will pay $5,750 to $8,750 to attend three private concerts a year. 

Perhaps concerts is not the best way to put it. Upscale music experiences better describes what Weisblatt’s Whiteleaf Private Concerts promises to deliver. 

“They’ll be like a parties,” he says, “way more than buying two tickets and going to a show.”

The program works like this: Each Whiteleaf club member and a guest can attend a three-show season featuring big-name headliners (think Sheryl Crow, Blues Traveler, Train, although no acts have been confirmed), as well as partake in a catered pre-show cocktail party. In certain instances, meet-and-greets with the acts will be available. 

During an interview in mid-August, Weisblatt says he was closing in on enough memberships to begin booking acts for a season that will hopefully begin in “winter ’24-’25.” He has several venues in mind, all of them small and intimate.

Weisblatt, 60, who has lived on Siesta Key for five years, has been producing upscale private and corporate events for decades. But he started out in the trenches, booking B.B. King and other blues acts for a cutthroat agency in New York City. He’s been an agent, a manager (he discovered Joan Osborne), promoter and more.

Weisblatt grew up in Walden, New York, 75 miles north of Manhattan, and lived what he calls a “very idyllic childhood.” He played football, basketball and baseball in high school. At age 16, Barry was at a house party when he heard a live Eric Clapton blues tune. He became an instant blues fanatic. 

While a student at University of Massachusetts, Weisblatt followed and befriended regional bands. He went to work at his father’s elevator and dumbwaiter business in Manhattan, and started booking acts on the side. Weisblatt landed a job in the mailroom at Associated Booking Corp., and from there worked his way up through the entertainment business. In 2002, he formed his own company, Whiteleaf Entertainment Group, producing mostly private events. 

After moving from Westchester County, New York to Siesta Key with his wife and son, Weisblatt quickly noticed Sarasota had an elevated arts scene but could rarely draw touring pop acts at any level. That’s because the vast majority play venues north of the Skyway Bridge. He recognized a vacuum. His first idea was to establish an independent music hall of 750-1,000 seats, but “quite frankly, I haven’t been able to find the real estate,” he says.

In February, Weisblatt launched Whiteleaf Private Concerts, which he modeled after a club in Charlotte, North Carolina. He feels that Sarasota/Manatee’s population is more than affluent enough to support his concept. 

Weisblatt also presents a series of open-to-the-public concerts at McCurdy’s Comedy Club.

Here are some of Weisblatt’s thoughts, reminiscences and insights about his life and career. 

When I was in the eighth grade, I developed a love of disco and R&B through my two best friends, who were African-American twin brothers. We ended up hosting parties in my basement. We charged the boys to get in, and the girls got in for free. So in the eighth grade, I was basically a concert promoter. 

I started booking gigs on my own in Manhattan for a band called Curtis T & the Kick. I was booking them for $100 and making a $10 commission. But that $10 commission was the greatest money I’ve ever made in my life.

I was working in the mail room at Associated Booking Corporation in New York, the proverbial start in the business, and after three months the owner of the agency says, ‘Come here, kid.’ So I followed him down the hallway. He takes me into the office of an agent who had just quit, and says, ‘There’s your phone, there’s your Rolodex. I need half a dozen B.B. King dates booked immediately.’”

At Associated Booking, there was a lot of passive aggressiveness and a lot of shouting and a lot of screaming and a lot of name-calling and a lot of belittling. It’s probably not the greatest example, but I always felt like it was going to boot camp. I stayed a year and a half. I had to get out of there.

You have to learn how to hear, “No,” and keep moving. That’s a critical skill for anybody, at any age, in any industry. 

Photo by Lori Sax

The highlight of my career would have to be hiring Paul McCartney to perform at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York City. I was in the room when he and my client, who is a billionaire, had their moment together. I just listened. I wasn’t star-struck, but I definitely knew that I was standing at the foot of greatness — and history.

My greatest regret in my career is that, as much as I wanted to ask for a photo with [McCartney], I didn’t. I didn’t want to be unprofessional. And I realized what a huge mistake that was because he was taking photos with everybody. Stage hands were calling him over — “hey Paul” — and he’d stop by for a quick photo bomb.

I shook John Mellencamp’s hand, and I don’t know how to explain this, but I am telling you — a bolt of lightning went from my hand right up my arm as soon as he and I gripped hands. I’ve never felt anything like that before or since. But I’m telling you, that happened. It was an electric charge. Some artists are just not of this planet.

I’ve worked with [the magician] David Blaine probably a half dozen times. It’s always kind of the same format when you hire him. He’ll come to a cocktail party or a dinner party and literally just wander around the room and do his hand magic right in front of you. These parties are filled with incredibly intelligent, high-net-worth individuals. And David Blaine is capable of turning them into babbling 12-year-olds in moments. 

The thought of getting in my car, fighting traffic, traveling to St. Pete, Clearwater or Tampa to see a show, looking for parking, then having to be concerned about maybe having an adult beverage or two — it just doesn’t work.