The coffee tasted just a little better this morning as I slowly sipped on the memories just a day old. I started my Friday by meeting a friend for coffee at a favorite local spot just outside the village. The chatting, easy. Instantly we spoke of art, writing and pottery. As we sank into a trusted comfort the conversation warmed with honest moments.
We sat across from one another at a honey-colored long wooden table with a matching bench. Ample room to seat a community. The fragrance of coffee wafted through the large open area. An appealing spare aesthetic. Vinyl records being played.
Highchairs adorned the ends of neighboring tables. Young families filled the welcoming space. Parents chatted while toddlers scuffled across the smooth cement floor. Winter boots cumbersomely reverberated Vibram sounds. Winter apparel fashionably worn by toddlers and parents alike.
Relaxed we spoke with one another and our fellow patrons. A neighbor of mine stopped in to grab a cup. Are you going to the concert at Artistree, I asked. Chad Hollister? Yes. She was going to check to see if tickets were still available. She and her partner had seen Chad recently and were hopeful to attend.
The art of small talk, delightful. Pleasantries exchanged. Questions of fashion. Vermont functional chic. Bog’s or Blundstone boots? Merits were compared. No one cared or acknowledged the world as close as our cell phones. The import of our brief interactions engaged us wholeheartedly. Generational differences melted away. I adored the roaming toddlers, held my breath for the near misses as a table corner seemed to jump out into their path. Simple agendas and adventures.
My friend and I finished our conversation in the parking lot before heading to our what next. A few errands for me as I excitedly prepared for my son and his wife to arrive later that day. Their dog Frankie too.
The day flowed in a pleasing way and the end of the day was looking equally promising. Chad Hollister’s solo performance would begin at 7pm. A “vintage” mohair sweater that was purchased new, jeans and my Blundstone’s. I was ready!
An art opening at the gallery was wrapping up as Jon and I found our way to the barn. A large red dairy barn that had been converted to painting and pottery classrooms / studios several years ago. Offices too and of course “The Loft.” The structure possesses an embraceable spirit of what once was and is now the fertile space for creativity.
We checked in on the first level before we climbed to the top floor. “The Loft”. An ornamental patterned rug centered under a large square picturesque window. Soft creams bordered with warm muted tones. A microphone strategically placed just off to the left on the carpet. Quietly a still life image was before me. White lights sparkled and decorated an exterior tree that gently illuminated the night and the high-ceilinged room. Red cushioned wooden seats and white hard plastic folding chairs were dabbled in as the show was sold out. A gentle arcing semi-circle four or five rows deep. Wooden beams. Barnboard walls. I ran my small hand over the roughhewn wood. Intimate, warm yet rustic.
A couple of familiar faces appeared as people began to take their seats including a collector and student of mine. A brief review of our holidays before we sat and settled in. We would meet for coffee soon.
Chad Hollister was introduced. He hails from Vermont, but his impressive twenty-year career has brought him musically well beyond our mighty albeit small state. Chad was immediately at ease as he addressed the group. “The Loft” appealed to his artistic soul. He felt at home. We were entertained by an introductory tale and then there was his music. Adjusting a guitar that boasted an appearance unfamiliar to me. The design like the evening, special. I didn’t need to understand the intricacies of his guitar. The only task I had was to enjoy.
Chad started to play with an intensity and strength made evident by the tensed muscles in his right forearm. Impossible not to immediately engage with the talent that had come to entertain us. His voice next to be made known and it was. Vocals that were soulful, playful including some artistic growls reminiscent of southern musical greats. The magic of Ben Kogan on standing bass brought the evening to an unforgettable level.
Chad’s eyes would close and his expression, shifted. Transported as he occupied the enviable space of artists and dreamers. His message, positive. Lessons of love and humanity filled the air and our hearts. Original music leaving the audience wanting more. We learned something of the musician as we were also reminded of why we are alive.
“Stop the world
I wanna get off
because this moment
is too good to be true.”
Chad Hollister
https://www.chadmusic.com/home
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