Be Here Now, Be Now Here

I didn't get kissed, despite tempting fate with garlic breath.

It didn't happen at tonight's "Trio of Troubadours" show at Sponge HQ at the Anderson Gallery.

As the man-about-town quipped upon leaving, "We got absorbed at Sponge tonight."

Come on, that's so bad we have to give him high marks for saying it out loud.

Sponge HQ is the studio of Hope Ginsburg, who teaches felt-making at VCU, so her top floor studio, with its bright green walls, houses felt objects and supplies, art books, a large aquarium and a beehive.

The beehive resides in a screened room at the top of six stairs within the studio.

The wooden box with its slanted sides is home to a good-sized honeycomb and scores of bees. Her beekeeping suit hangs on the outside of the little raised room.

What better place to enjoy a little folk music on a Sunday night?

A wall of windows gave us a view of the roiling sky that deposited next to no rain just before the show.

Attendees brought food to share, including the loveliest baba ganoush, which came with a warning from its maker, a devoted music fan, that serious garlic breath would result after eating.

The kind that would keep vampires away, she said.

"It's not like I'll be kissing anyone tonight," I told her, digging in.

"It always happens when you least expect it," she laughed. Pshaw, I told her I was looking for a garlic-lover anyway.

Hope had put a honeycomb in a bowl and the honey that dripped down from it was enjoyed by those who stuck a finger into the bowl to collect a taste.

She assured us that honey had antibacterial qualities, so we didn't have to worry about cooties (not that I was).

The studio had a window unit air conditioner which had to be turned off for the unamplified show, but the warmth didn't make its presence known until things were almost over.

Jonathan Vassar was up first and began with a couple of songs usually done with his band, The Speckled Bird.

"I don't know why I'm doing all these Speckled Bird songs," he wondered aloud. "The Speckled Bird is here, just without their instruments."

He did one song by his other side project, Ophelia, as well as a song I hadn't heard him play in ages, "See a Man about a Dog" and an even older song he'd written in high school.

That was for his parents, who were in the audience, but he proudly noted that he hadn't teared up at their presence for a change.

A seamless transition delivered Philadelphian Chris Kasper to the front of the room.

Having seen him before, I was looking forward to his set.

He admitted his affection for RVA and its music scene and noted that we should stop by his hometown and "See Independence Hall and have a cheese steak."

Chris is a good songwriter with an engaging voice and those hearing him for the first time were quickly won over.

He spoke of fans who recorded shows, "And it's nice to have the archives, but sometimes it's just about being in the moment. And tonight is like that."

Being there in the moment tonight meant we got to hear several songs as yet unrecorded, so our memories will be the only record of them.

In our 24/7 documented world, I really appreciated his emphasis on the here and now.

Chris brought his musical partner-in-crime Kiley up for a few songs and she added violin, vocals and dimples to the last few songs, excellent additions all.

Favorite lyric: "I will not turn my back when love is speaking."

David Shultz had drawn the closing spot by default.

As I was parking my car, I'd seen him walking down Franklin Street. Rolling down my window, I called to him.

"Excuse me sir, but don't you have a show to perform?"

He allowed as how a guy sometimes needs to clear his head and continued down the street.

But he made it back in time for his set, taking the front stool and asking of Hope if the bees were asleep for the night (they were, she said).

Jonathan provided harmonica and harmonizing for the first few songs, including an Ophelia number.

He covered Paul Simon's "The Obvious Child," inviting the audience to provide the drum parts (some did).

It was great; like Chris Kasper, he played new stuff to an attentive crowd before returning to established material.

Favorite lyric: "Just because you're losing your balance doesn't mean you're falling down."


Just because you spend the evening in a room with bees doesn't mean you'll get stung.

Take it from there.