Austin folk singer Susan Gibson stands on a rug - a place of honor - in front of dozens of attentive fans enveloped in canvas camp chairs. Only her acoustic guitar stands between her and her audience.

"Nice place you got here. Where are all the neon beer signs?'' she asks, joking with James and Katren Coumbe, the smiling and relaxed hosts in the front row.

This isn't a typical venue - a loud, smoky honky-tonk filled with revelers paying scant attention to the band - but a quiet Conroe living room with a nearly reverent audience.

Since 2001, the Coumbes have hosted Piney Woods Performances house concerts, inviting music lovers into their home. On this summer night, Gibson is accompanied by guitarist Gabe Rhodes and singer-songwriter Average Joe Crane, the opening act.

The Coumbes have space for 26 guests in their living room. The rug serves as stage, illuminated by a small spotlight on the floor, bulbs of a ceiling fan and the subtle glow of an aquarium.

The Coumbes decided to open their home to musicians after attending Texas Nights Concerts in Friendswood, where respected Texas-based singer-songwriters Ray Wylie Hubbard, Shake Russell, Eric Taylor and Hayes Carll have performed in Barney and Beverly Goodman's backyard.

Guests are unfailingly polite. ``Even if you're inviting strangers into your home, they are people who are here for the music. It's someone who wants to hear every note,'' Katren says.

Katren enjoys the control the couple have over the intimate listening experience. ``If you are in a club and someone is talking, there's not much you can do. Here, you have control over the noise level - because it's your house.''

She shows off the framed, signed photos they've collected of their rising stars: Carll, Darryl Purpose, Gordy Quist, Cindy Kalmenson, Adam Carroll, Adam Hood, Abra Moore.

Between sets, Gibson heads to the porch to smoke, sip a Shiner and talk with fans, including Kevin and Molly Alvarado of Cypress, who have been to Piney Woods shows four times, including an earlier show by Gibson.

Gibson says house concerts are ideal for making the kind of personal connection she values.

"I'm the kind of artist who loves to make eye contact," Gibson says. "It's such a one-sided conversation when you show up at a bar, set up, start to play and just wait for them to clap. When you're in a small room, you're able to see each person. It's instant gratification."

Gibson, who wrote Wide Open Spaces, recorded by the Dixie Chicks, is able to talk comfortably in the quiet setting, relating stories behind many of her songs. Her favorite, she tells the crowd, is You Came Along, written for her nephew Grant.

"Every time I go to hear someone at a house concert, I just get chills," Molly Alvarado says. "You can see the stars, and you get to meet them, too."

Best of all, you can hear them. As Lindsey Lee of Rouse House Concerts in the Heights puts it:

"There's no drunk in the back yelling, 'Freebird.' "

Texas music is special

When the Goodmans started Texas Nights in 1998, they knew of no house concerts in Houston. They weren't sure such a thing existed.

A search of the Internet found house concerts all over the country, so they contacted hosts for advice.

After 85 shows, the Goodmans' e-vite list has ballooned from 25 to 900.

Meanwhile, at least 21 other house concerts have since sprung up within 100 miles of Houston.

Dr. Kevin Mooney, associate chair for the Center for American Music at the University of Texas at Austin, says house concerts, though undergoing a revival now, are nothing new in the context of musical history. They thrived in Vienna, Austria, in the 19th century among the upper class. There's a long tradition of house concerts in America, as well.

"Before radio, before television, before movies, the main means of entertainment was to entertain yourselves with dancing and live music," Mooney says.

The Internet has benefited house concerts by simplifying mailing and creating a network of house-concert hosts, who learn from one another.

Tom Yeager of Songbird Sanctuary tries to keep track of Houston venues with a list, which he e-mails to interested parties. He held jazz concerts in his Montrose home in the mid-'70s, a few piano concerts in the '80s and began a regular folk series about five years ago. "It's all over the state, all over the nation, but more so here in Texas and around the Boston area," Yeager says. "There's a strong history of what people call Texas music, and it is special, and it is a little different."

How it works

Guests usually reserve seats in exchange for donations of $10-$20, which go directly to the musicians, who also sell CDs and T-shirts.

Guests also bring beverages and food for a potluck dinner. (Yeager stipulates the food be homemade.) Deb Rouse of Rouse House says she sometimes provides lasagna or chili because she likes to cook.

Crane says the house-concert circuit is a good deal for performers. "It cuts out the middle man. You're paid well. It's very win-win for everybody."

The hosts aren't in it to make money. In fact, Goodman says he loses about $200 on each event, in part because he provides paper products. Ice is another expense. Some hosts provide overnight accommodations for the musicians.

To help out the hosts, musicians have donated T-shirts or CDs, which the Goodmans have sold to buy folding chairs and an amplifier.

"Before we knew it, we had 60 folding chairs," Goodman said, many of them autographed by the artists who provided them, including Sisters Morales, Terry Hendricks, Jimmy Lafave, Tom Russell and others.

"We do this because we love what we're doing," Goodman says. "Two hundred dollars to throw a really fun party, that's not too bad."

Hosts usually bring in musicians who reflect their own tastes, thus developing a loyal following of like-minded fans.

Rouse and Lee often book New Folk Award winners from the Kerrville Folk Festival. "We want to do anything we can to introduce people to music that they don't hear on the radio," Rouse says.

They started a concert series this year to continue the tradition of Deb's parents, Bruce and Liz Rouse, who hosted 100 concerts at the original Rouse House in Austin, ending their 15-year run last year when Bruce died.

Yeager prefers strong, finger-style picking and gentle, mature voices.

"We're not going to book anyone if we're not passionate about their music," Yeager says. "But it's a whole lot more than the music to us. We're also going to book almost no one who we can't become friends with."

For the Goodmans' first show, they booked Ray Wylie Hubbard, a favorite.

"He had such a good time that now it's an annual thing: Ray Wylie Hubbard's Redneck Mother's Day Weekend," Goodman says. "Ray's gotten to be a very good friend."

Hubbard says he plays 10 to 15 house concerts a year.

"It's a fun gig, and it's really easy," he says. "Some gigs are hard. You gotta get there and deal with agents, promoters and stuff. This is just like playing for your friends — and they are my friends as a matter of fact."

Only one bathroom

Guests at Texas Nights bring their own lawn chairs. The stage, a deck, is equipped with lights, an amplifier and a Texas Nights banner. "For something you do in the backyard, it looks pretty professional," Goodman admits.

Ideally, he accommodates between 80 and 130 people, but accepts only 70 reservations in case rain forces the show indoors. Neighbors have been patient about parking and noise.

"The limiting factor is the bathroom," Goodman says. "There's only one downstairs, so when we get those big crowds of 100 or more, the line does get kind of long."

Rouse and her husband, Lee, held their first house concert in January, featuring Erik Balkey. The possibility of concerts was one of the reasons they bought the spacious Victorian-style house.

Sara Hickman of Austin is among performers who played at the original Rouse House. "What's not to like about house concerts?" she says. "There's nothing affected about it. You walk in and are chatting with people, you sit at the hearth, tell your stories and sing your songs. You stand around and have pie or chips and sell CDs. It's warm, and it's real, and it's the complete opposite of American Idol."