I've almost completed my series of photos of Woodstock's business district. Next, I'll move on to the outlying areas. Today, let's take a look at the Kleinert/James Arts Center and Woodstock Byrdcliffe Guild.
The Arts Center is a small performing space capable of seating (maybe) 60 people. Haven't been there in decades, because the performances are heavily politicized. As you can see, a musician named Steve Reich will be performing soon. Egg head conceptual music is one side of the equation at the Center. The other side is far left propaganda. Every year, you can count on the Center to redo the Beat poets, bring in some “revolutionary” rock band from the 60s and throw a dance party for the pioneers of the hippie communes.
Sorry for the critical tone. I'm just not interested in any of that stuff.
It's no accident that this sign stands at the entrance to the Center. The Woodstock left always believes that it is practicing the higher form of patriotism, which is always dissent. This weekend at The Colony, this works out to a pro-Hamas, anti-Israel rally. The “dissent” favored by Woodstock's far left somehow always means rooting for enemies of the U.S. I've tried to discover the identity of the Robert Hass in question, with no luck.
Of course, painters founded the Woodstock arts colony. The Byrdcliffe Guild takes on the name of the founders. The building to the left of the Kleinert Center was acquired by the Guild only in the past year or two. Previously it had housed a curio shop. The wrap around scroll at the top of the building is a new addition.
The Byrdcliffe Arts Colony started on the slopes of Mead Mountain. Our local historian, Alf Evers, quipped that the artists chose the elevated landscape so that they could “look down their noses” on the rubes who lived below them. Contempt for middle class American life has always been at the heart of this Woodstock cult. To this day, the cult believes that it knows better than middle class America.
Hipsterism lives at the Kleinert Center and the Byrdcliffe Guild. Once, I was hip. I confess. I'm a sinner. My hipsterism slowly slipped away. Now, I'm just a 60 year old middle class guy, limping toward the finish line, hoping and praying that I can somehow manage to maintain that wonderful middle class American existence.