The Here and Now

History was reviewed and made, all in the same evening.

"Age of Kennedy," a black and white 1966 documentary was being shown in 16 mm at Studio Two Three as part of their Film & Video series to commemorate this 50th anniversary of the assassination.

After reading countless articles this week about every aspect of Camelot and Dallas, my interest was piqued by a film made so soon after it all.

And what a film!

Probably due to the Kennedy patriarch having been an early financier of Hollywood, there was an incredible amount of footage of JFK from the '30s, '40s and '50s, back before most people had home movie cameras.

Family winter vacations in Miami, while a student at Harvard, fishing on a boat, during his junior year of college abroad.

And speaking of that year in Europe, while over there for eight months he dutifully wrote a report on every country he visited to send back to his father.

There was fabulous footage of him as a 23-year old who'd just had his senior thesis, "Why England Slept," published as a book, showing him on a lounge with copies of his book surrounding him while he alternately made amazed and self-deprecating faces.

And may I just say, the amount of charisma and charm that emanated from those movies of him was palpable.

Because the film had originally been made for TV, it had two parts, "The Early Years" and "The Presidency."

The first reel left off with him as a delegate and the second one picked up with him already elected President; it was as if the filmmaker assumed that all the viewers knew the in-between parts because they'd happened so recently.

Still, it was odd.

We saw JFK covering the founding of the U.N. for Hearst newspapers, smoking and wearing sunglasses while watching weapons testing as the President and as a Daddy with his very young children.

This was rare stuff; I'd never seen a single one of the images before.

The progression of him from an always-smiling, slender young man to a solidly-built man of middle age with wrinkles and life experience written all over his face was fascinating to see.

I told the organizer, James, something I never thought I'd tell anyone: that he needs to be on Facebook so he can let people know when he's doing something unique like tonight's screening.

I couldn't help but think that there were other people out there - film buffs, history geeks, pop culture slaves - who would have come if only they'd known about it.

On the other hand, it's truly impressive to meet a 20-something who eschews social media.

He agreed to consider it and I said my farewell.

As a hired mouth, I'd already done my eating earlier, so my next stop was Bainbridge Collective in Manchester for a house show.

I'd been to this group house once before back in April for an evening of music and Virginia wine so at least this time I knew where I was going.

Things were just getting set up when I arrived and found music-loving friends already there.

Considering it had been billed as an evening of ambient, experimental and drone, I was surprised to see single mattresses being put in the two windows to absorb sound and a DJ friend lamenting that she'd left her earplugs at work.

I hadn't anticipated that things might get loud. Turns out, they didn't.

Once everything was good to go, people settled down on sofas, a sturdy wooden table and on the floor; it was all very communal.

First up was Counterspark, the solo project of a guy named Johnny, who used a turntable and knobs to create experimental soundscapes that fused song and words, in one case a recording of astronauts talking about their voyage.

That part of it reminded me a bit of the Books, while another girl pronounced at the end of his set, "That was very relaxing."

Part of that vibe is the big black and white wall hanging between the windows, behind which are strung colored mini-lights which twinkle through the cloth's design.

Very groovy.

Parties, the traveling band, showed up short. One member had fallen asleep and missed his flight from Raleigh so we had to content ourselves with two thirds of Parties.

"This is a band where none of us live in the same place," Andrew from California explained. "P.D. missed his flight and he should be arriving at the airport right about now. So this is for him."

With two guitars and many knobs and pedals, he and Joe sat on the floor under the twinkling lights, making hypnotic and beautiful music even without P.D.

Everyone was surprised to learn afterwards that they don't do any work together over the internet, choosing instead to get together when they end up within a reasonable distance of each other to play. This was the first night of a short tour.

Tonight's finale was Source of Sorcery, the new collaborative project of Dave Watkins and Nelly Kate, truly two of Richmond's most talented.

She had already said that the coolest part of tonight would be that she and Dave would be experiencing the music for the first time, just as the audience would.

With a blue light bulb hanging beneath for mood, they had a small table set up between them for Nelly's knobs while Dave's mammoth pedal board sat below it as they faced each other, he with dulcitar in hand.

Dave said they were going to improvise and Nelly explained that the lyrics she would be singing would be from T.S. Elliot's "Four Quartets."

Love is most nearly itself
When here and now cease to matter

Music and poetry? Could this night get any better?

As they began improvising, two different photographers (as in people with cameras, not people with phones) each took a side and began madly photographing the very first Source of Sorcery show.

I've seen both Dave and Nelly play individually many, many times but hearing them come together was an other-wordly experience.

I looked around at one point and saw others reacting in their own ways. Some closed their eyes. Others, no doubt first-timers, watched in amazement as they laid down multiple tracks, layering their sounds until it sounded like a half dozen people were making music.

The lush, dense soundscapes they were creating were a virtuosic give and take, with Dave taking off on intricate dulcitar parts that then gave way to Nelly's hushed vocals rising up out of it.

It seemed like everyone sensed we were seeing something truly magical.

The spell was broken only when they stopped and one of the Bainbridge residents said, "Talk about making love to your music!"

If you like to watch, it was pretty heady stuff.

Thanking everyone for coming, our hostess closed out the evening by saying, "There are a lot of new faces in the room tonight. Take a few minutes to talk to somebody new and make a friend. Or make love."

People started looking around.

"Just don't do it in the bathroom," she amended. "Just in case someone needs to use it."

Some nights, it's all about experiencing everything together. Very groovy.