
Stephen Porter (www.stephenporterpiano.com) played Chopin and Liszt at Andover's Memorial Hall Library yesterday. Polonaise Fantasie was my favorite piece, perhaps because it is most familiar to me, from years of hearing similar Chopin works played by our reproducing Ampico piano. Now, thanks to Andover-based artist and friend Pat Keck (www.patkeck.com), we have a Steinway grand for husband Bob to play. No one played it at Pat's house anymore and she wanted more room for her sculptures. Our Ampico is now at the Morris Museum (morrismuseum.org) in Morristown, New Jersey.
In past posts, I have talked about Memorial Hall's first librarian, Ballard Holt, who doubled as its janitor. His Civil War photo is behind a glass-fronted case in this room, along with other 19th-century "Andover Faces." On the walls are plaques (one shown) listing the names of the town's war dead. When, years ago, I walked in with writer Andre Dubus (1936-1999) -- we were doing a program together -- he noticed the plaques immediately, as a former Marine -- or, probably, any veteran -- would.
Having seen Frederick Wiseman speak about his film Ex Libris on Saturday, I found myself on Sunday even more grateful for this library than I might otherwise have been, even though, judging from the excerpts he showed, the Wiseman film is as much about New York City as it is about its library or libraries in general. Each library in the country or the world reflects its community, and mine reflects mine. I can't change that, nor would I want to. In these politically difficult times -- Wiseman could not help but make derogatory comments about Trump and I can't blame him -- I have found it best to dive deeply local. Eat locally? I am writing locally, and it has made all the difference in achieving peace of mind.
In past posts, I have talked about Memorial Hall's first librarian, Ballard Holt, who doubled as its janitor. His Civil War photo is behind a glass-fronted case in this room, along with other 19th-century "Andover Faces." On the walls are plaques (one shown) listing the names of the town's war dead. When, years ago, I walked in with writer Andre Dubus (1936-1999) -- we were doing a program together -- he noticed the plaques immediately, as a former Marine -- or, probably, any veteran -- would.
Having seen Frederick Wiseman speak about his film Ex Libris on Saturday, I found myself on Sunday even more grateful for this library than I might otherwise have been, even though, judging from the excerpts he showed, the Wiseman film is as much about New York City as it is about its library or libraries in general. Each library in the country or the world reflects its community, and mine reflects mine. I can't change that, nor would I want to. In these politically difficult times -- Wiseman could not help but make derogatory comments about Trump and I can't blame him -- I have found it best to dive deeply local. Eat locally? I am writing locally, and it has made all the difference in achieving peace of mind.