Harried Potter

My new favorite spot at Gallery Walk is the courtyard outside the Hooker-Dunham building. I've always loved the spot. It seems so European to me, like a village square in an old German or Italian town or something like that. It conjures up evocative, romantic feelings of travel or traveling back in time.

Lately, it has become a place to find fun at Gallery Walk. Last month, we enjoyed listening to the young drummers of Roach's Youth Percussion Ensemble. Last Friday, my two girls, ages 2 and 7, my wife and I found belly dancers. How cool.

After watching these dancing goddesses for a minute or two, both girls started to get into the groove. For my 2-year-old, that meant lifting her shirt a bit to expose her navel (like the women she was watching) and wiggling her hips as best she could. Funny. My oldest got really into it and was given a veil a to work with while she was out there dancing.

I appreciated how welcome they were made, how inclusive this dancing was. It wasn't a performance; it was a communal groove. The organizers billed the event as a call for "Goddesses" to dance. I remember thinking: It's never too early to be a goddess. It also sent me scrambling to my books on mythology to find out what fate has in store for the fathers of goddesses.

How you gonna keep 'em down on the farm after they've seen Lake Wobegon?

The Sweetback Sisters, a honky tonk, 1950s'era country band, are coming to Brattleboro on Saturday to perform at the Hooker-Dunham Theater. They're a band on the rise, and I'l excited about their visit here. I hope they are excited, although the cozy confines of the Hooker-Dunham Theater will keep the audience a lot smaller than the millions they played for in April when they appeared on "A Prairie Home Companion" as part of the show's "People in their Twenties" talent show. They were selected as one of six to perform from more than 700 applicants, so you know they have chops.

They've performed in town a couple of times before and have strong ties to the area in the form of their percussionist, Stefan Amidon, who grew up here and should be well known here through performances with his talented family members and with groups like Assembly. On Saturday, the Sweetback Sisters will be joined by Brattleboro resident and bassist extraordinaire Corey DiMario of Crooked Still.

If you aren't in Bellows Falls on Saturday night enjoying the music at the Roots on the River Festival then I recommend you check out the Sweetback Sisters. For information, call the Hooker-Dunham at 802-254-9276 or visit www.hookerdunham.org.

"I came in dead last. That's OK."

Those were my brother's words after the adventure he had this past Saturday night. They were more than the words of a gracious loser.

My brother is legally blind. He has retinitis pigmentosa, a congenital condition that is robbing him of his sight. It's incurable. His vision is 20/400 or worse.

And yet on Saturday, he donned a fire suit and helmet and climbed behind the wheel of a race car to compete with other blind drivers.

Yes, you heard me right. My brother drove in a race of blind drivers. Madnesss? No. The thrill of a lifetime and for a good cause? That's more like it.

He took part in the Eye Rock race at Lebanon Valley Speedway, a fundraiser for Camp Abilities, a summer camp for blind and deaf-blind children in New York State. The race pairs blind drivers with professional race car drivers for a few laps around the track. The blind drivers are behind the wheel; the pros ride shotgun and tell the drivers what to do — turn left, turn right, hit the gas, hit the brake, etc.

It seems unfathomable to me, but it's a great program, and it really works. It means so much to the drivers. My brother's eyesight began to fail him in his late-20s. He stopped driving around 1998. For a few minutes on Saturday, he was behind the wheel again. "Here's something I was told I could probably never do again, and I did it," my brother said. Some of the drivers have been blind since birth and have never driven. Imagine the feeling of moving through space at 40 or 50 miles per hour after a whole lifetime of measured, careful steps.

I have to give a lot of credit to the pro drivers who volunteer to help these blind drivers. Race car drivers are never short on courage, but it must take a certain amount of courage and a high degree of generosity of spirit to do this.

After a few laps in which my brother got clipped by another car once and almost veered into the wall once, the race ended. My brother was dead last, but he didn't care. He said for most of his turn behind the wheel, he was too focused on what he was doing to be scared. Lost in a moment he thought he would never experience again. That's why last place was good enough.

One of the upcoming events I'm most looking forward to is the Actors Theatre Playhouse's revival of its production of "!2 Angry Men."

ATP closed its season in 2006 with it, and it was a smash hit - so successful that many people who wanted to go couldn't get tickets. With what amounts to an all-star cast of seasoned local theater veterans, it's little wonder the play was successful. I'm glad they've decided to revive it, because I'm one of those people who missed it the first time. I won't make that mistake again.

I have a great respect for the Actors Theatre Playhouse. With most so-called "local" or "community" theater outfits, you have to check some of your high expectations at the door. There's always some actor who, bless their heart, is trying but is just not up to snuff. I've never run into this with ATP. The quality of the acting is consistently high; you never have to accept second best.

ATP's vision is to put the focus on actors, directors and playwrights ... to strip plays back to their essentials and to focus on the steak instead of sizzly technical effects or plays that talk down to their audiences. That's refreshing.

That vision is supported by its theater space, which places the audience in very intimate relationship with the actors, up close and around nearly three sides of the stage. This, I imagine, is particularly compelling in "12 Angry Men." The audience must really feel like it's in the jury room, too.

At any rate, I intend to find out. "12 Angry Men" runs Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays, June21-23 and 28-30, at 8 p.m. For reservations, call 877-233-7905. For information, visit www.actorsplay.org

This Sunday marks the 232nd anniversary of the Battle of Bunker Hill (you knew that already, right?), and that's as good a time as any to reflect on the extraordinary accomplishments of one of its heroes - John Stark - a man who shows up time and again at key moments in the American Revolution, yet is now largely a forgotten figure.

A new book by Ben Z Rose, "John Stark: Maverick General," attempts to address this oversight and largely succeeds. It is well-researched and makes a compelling case for Stark to claim his rightful place as one of the key figures in American independence.

Born in 1728, John Stark grew up in New Hampshire when much of it was still largely frontier country, survived capture by Indians as a young man and went on to serve on the British side with an outfit called Rogers Rangers, a tough special forces outfit which pioneered a guerilla-style of warfare. For a time, Stark commanded this unit and participated in the Battle of Ticonderoga.

When war broke out between the British and her colony in America, Stark, though nearly 50, signed up again, becoming a colonel in the New Hampshire militia. A savvy tactician and hardened leader, Stark's timely action helped shore up the left flank of the Patriot army during a critical moment of the Battle of Bunker Hill.

Stark played a pivotal role in another key battle a year-and-a-half later when he led troops at the vanguard at the Battle of Trenton on Dec. 26, 1776. It was Washington's masterstroke, it may well have staved off disintegration of the Patriot army, and there was Stark, in the thick of it.

Appointed brigadier general in 1777, Stark was, literally, Johnny on the spot again, playing key roles in the Battle of Bennington in August of that year and a short time later at the first Battle of Saratoga. He shows up as a key figure again as head of the military tribunal that tried John Andre, the British case officer for turncoat Benedict Arnold. He continued to serve throughout the war and remained an influential figure throughout the rest of his remarkable 94-year life. In correspondence with citizens of Bennington, Stark coined the phrase "Live Free or Die," now the New Hampshire state motto.

Yet he remains a forgotten figure. Why? Though Stark's relative obscurity can't be pinned on any one thing, Rose does a good job at suggesing some possible clues. One factor may be Stark's personality. A maverick, staunchly independent figure, Stark emerges as a man who had trouble "playing the game" of politics needed for career advancement. Quite frankly, Rose's research reveals him to be a prickly figure, who resigned his position several times over slights, both real and self-perceived. That, coupled with the fact that many of his military achievements were overshadowed or simply key roles in larger successes, and you have a man who fails to get his due.

Rose's book is an interesting read for fans of American history, and a valuable contribution to a complete understanding of our region and of that time. "John Stark: Maverick General" was published in April 2007 by TreeLine Press, PO Box 79118, Waverly, Mass., 02479, ISBN: 978-0-9789123-0-7.

For me, the Stockwell Brothers are the sound of summer, pure and simple.

That feeling dates back almost a decade when I had a magical summer of love, and their cassette "Stobro" was on a lot in the car as I went from bluegrass festival to bluegrass festival just about every weekend.

That relationship ended, but my fondness for the Stockwell Brothers never has, and their music just seems like summer to me. It's the music of hanging out on a blanket, chilling out, dancing, picnicking, playing with children and laughing.

Which is exactly what my family and I were doing last Friday on the Putney Common. The Stockwell Brothers were playing for the Twilight on the Tavern Lawn series. This is the first time we've gone to this free concert series, but it won't be the last. It's a very family friendly scene and a nice place to catch up with friends and enjoy a picnic. The Stockwell Brothers sounded good with a nice mix of new and old songs.

The series is held every other Friday at 6:30 p.m., on the Putney Tavern Lawn. It's well worth it. Next up for music is Jazzberry Jam on June 29.

Gillies attracted a large crowd for its ongoing Tuesday night jazz with Howard Brofsky — and with good reason. Cornetist Brofsky was joined by an old friend, pianist Eugene Uman, artistic director of the Vermont Jazz Center, who had been away, teaching in Colombia, for the better part of a year. I'm happy to say he has returned with his chops intact with a clean-shaven head the only noticeable change.

Uman is back to stay and has quickly immersed himself in the jazz world. He's teaching at three summer programs, including the VJC's Summer Workshop. It's a real boon to the area's arts community, not just the music scene, to have Uman back, and it was pleasure to see him and hear him play at Gillies last night.

I chatted briefly with Uman in between sets and was full of praise for the team of people who have been running the Vermont Jazz Center while he was away. It's true. Uman was missed, but the VJC rolled on, staging great concerts, teaching students, hosting jam sessions and planning for another summer workshop season. I expect big things from the VJC in the future.

I thought about all that as I watched Tuesday night, but mostly I just enjoyed hearing Brofsky and Uman play.

In the pages of the Brattleboro Reformer last week, I asked readers to give me suggestions for what music I should put in the iPod I was given for Father's Day. I received a number of e-mails and a wide range of suggestions, everything from Mozart to Dylan, Springsteen to gospel. If anyone is listening out here in the blogosphere, I'll put the same call out to you.

This is your big chance ... tell me what music you think I should put on my iPod. Throughout my life, I've always had a musical mentor, someone whose explorations ran much broader and deeper than my own and who liked to share their discoveries. In high school, my friend Jacques filled that role. He was always bringing home interesting records (remember those?) spanning the centuries from the Renaissance to the New Wave. He also sang tenor in our barbershop quartet, but that's another story.

After college, my musical mentor was a friend named T.R., who ran the music department at the Northshire Bookstore in Manchester and seemed to have listened to everything. He was particularly strong in jazz, especially Duke Ellington, but his tastes veered in all sorts of directions. It was T.R. who turned me on to the Seldom Scene.

When I arrived in Bratteboro eight years ago, my colleague, friend and drinking buddy Chris Nixon took over the musical mentorship role. His tastes ran into all sorts of dark corners and edgy nooks and cranies. It was Chris who turned me on to Soul Coughing, the Slip and Medeski, Martin & Wood. I still remember the bleak mid-February night Chris played the Eels' "Electroshock Blues" for me. That CD remains one of the best I've ever heard, definitely one of the 20 CDs I would take to a deserted island (that happened to have an electrical outlet and a CD player).

Chris moved away, and though he still sends me word of music he's heard that he thinks I would like, it's not the same as being there. Anyhow, I thought I would throw myself on the mercy of all you out there. Tell me what you like, what you think I should listen to. I'd appreciate it. You can either talk to me through this blog or e-mail suggestions to jpotter@reformer.com.

I write mostly about the Brattleboro arts scene. It's my job, and it's something I care very deeply about. But my real passion is my family, and that often keeps me at home, instead of at an arts event or concert.

Sometimes, however, my worlds of family and art intersect, and that can be beautiful. Last week, I took my 7-year-old daughter to jazz night at Gillies. I'm not sure how it happened, except that I wanted to go see Eugene Uman in his return the area, playing with Howard Brofsky, and I think my daughter was just curious. Well, it turns out she had a blast, so much so that we went again last night to hear Howard playing with guitarist Draa Hobbs.

It was fun to see that my daughter got all dressed up, complete with gold-spangled purse, and I know she had a blast again. How do I know? I could tell by the way she was singing in the shower after we got home.

I'm under no delusions that my daughter loves jazz. I think the things she likes about going to Gillies on Tuesdays are: 1) The people — my daughter worked the room like an old pro, going from table to table, saying hi to the people she met last week and twirling in her dress; Leah Stuart, a regular there, who often sits and sketches the musicians while she's listening to the music, took the time to sketch my daughter ... what a treat! 2) The chance to eat dinner and have ice cream out ... and way past bedtime 3) Feeling so grown up 4) Spending time solo with dad. These may not be in the right order, but they're close.

I think the jazz itself comes after that, but that's OK. She does listen to the music; she tells me which songs she likes; she's amused that in jazz, you can clap in the middle of a song if you liked the solo; and she got up and danced to a couple of numbers.

Jazz was something my dad shared with me, and I felt like I was being let into his world when we listened to it together. I still feel a connection. Who knows what my daughter will think of the music as she grows up, but I'm glad to share my world with her. That's the pleasure I got.

I think Howard Brofsky knows what I'm talking about. His daughter, Natasha, who just happens to be an accomplished cellist up to spend time at the Yellow Barn Music Festival with the Peabody Trio, was in attendance Tuesday, along with two daughters. I don't know what Howard's grandkids thought of the music, but I know Howard was proud to have them all there. His smile, and the fact that he was playing particularly well gave him away.