Taking Local Arts Seriously -- Really

Dan Chartrand owns Water Street Books in Exeter’s stylish and historic downtown. But Chartrand says, even if the town has all the charm in the world, when it comes to culture, it's like Rodney Dangerfield – outsiders don't give it respect.

CUT: We were trying to work with an organization to get them to do more events in Exeter and they said they would prefer not to do any events here in Exeter and I said, “Well, I think you’re missing something. And this was my reaction.

Local culture crudsader: Dan Chartrand holds the line at his shop window (Jon Greenberg, NHPR)

Here's what he did. One day last spring, Chartrand looked at his shop. He saw posters for lots of shows, shows in Portsmouth, Newburyport and places beyond. The places that drew more attention. He tore those posters down. After the purge, all that remained were notices for shows in Exeter or near Exeter.

CUT: And it was wonderful. It looked full and vibrant and it was like Wow! There’s a lot happening here. It was an education for us to see how much was happening here that was getting lost in the shuffle of the blizzard of other announcements and posters.

Chartrand made this his cause célèbre. He says he has nothing against culture that happens elsewhere. It’s just that he wants to nurture creativity in Exeter and he can’t do that by steering people away. It’s the artistic equivalent of the local food movement, carried to nth degree.

Chartrand found himself at odds with some of his most loyal customers. They had events they wanted to promote but they took place outside of Exeter and Chartrand was adamant.

Hunter Farnham plays tuba in the Seacoast Wind Ensemble. He respects Chartrand’s motives but thinks his method works against local arts -- when the reality is, culture needs all the friends it can get.

CUT: There’s always quite a lot of publicity on sports events for children and adults that goes on. Would that there were as much publicity for cultural events that go on.

There’s no bad blood here – more a difference of opinion among friends. Chartrand enjoys the debate. At first he worried about what he would say; he almost hoped he could slide by. Now he says he leans into these conversations. He calls them teachable moments when he must explain his reasons to a fellow -- if less locally focused -- culture lover. It's become his role -- to help people in his town see what's right under their noses.

The view from the balcony at the Ioka (Ryan Howell)

CUT: If someone doesn’t take that first step and say “Hey wait a minute. This isn’t quite right. Let’s focus on what we have here, focus on having fun in our own backyard, then no one else is going to do it. I’ve had conversations with people and this thing is beginning to pick up a little bit of momentum, a little bit of steam.

CUT: There’s been a lot of work going on here lately. I mean obviously, doors are taped shut and everything like that.

There is a place where Chartrand's hopes could blossom. Right now, a lot of people are worried about the Ioka Theater, a turn of the century movie house that just went out of business. Ryan Howell, a soon to be unemployed projectionist is helping mothball the Ioka. This theater is right in the heart of the old downtown, It’s a glorious old building with an ornate lobby, 400 seats, a full stage and lots of history.

CUT: 5:38 we have the what you call, everything from the fly system when vaudeville was done here. I'm not sure the lights. // climbing steps

The fly system, in case you didn't know, is used to raise and lower screens and sets. In recent years, Howell says the theater brought in money by keeping with the vaudeville tradition of variety.

CUT: who would ever think, live concert, next night, comedy, next night ultimate fighting.

We go from high above the stage to a large room underneath the theater.

CUT: once we get to bottom of stairs, that's when we will not have light.

By the beam of a single flashlight, we walk into Club Ioka, a night club. In the darkness, you can barely make out a sumptuous carved wooden bar. This was a great a venue for stand -up comedy. It was also the setting for an activity that is a lot more risqué. Something that fits in quaint downtown Exeter about as well as a Wal-Mart would. Some people knew about it. Some people didn't.

CUT: I didn’t know for a couple of years.

Carol Aten is part of group that wants to turn the Ioka into a community run nonprofit. Aten is one of those people who makes nonprofit things happen. She’s been doing that for a while and a few years ago, that's how she learned what was going on at Club Ioka.

CUT: We had held a fundraiser at the Ioka with the comedy club and I had a resident in the community after saying, how did you dare do a fundraiser there. And I said, what do you mean? I’m thinking I’m supporting the local theater. And she said, you know about the sex club in the basement. And I said, what sex club.

Carved with Mayan figures, the Club Ioka bar was found in a barn in Sandown (Jon Greenberg, NHPR)

That would be Club Sinz, a separate organization that rented the downstairs bar some Saturday nights. On the web, Club Sinz promotes itself as New England’s largest and fastest growing lifestyle club. Lifestyle is a euphemism. It means couples who are interested in having sex with more than one person. One slogan on the web site is “When two won’t do.”

The closing of the Ioka got a lot of attention. A Facebook page, Friends of the Ioka, quickly had over 15 hundred members. But Aten says, some people had reservations.

CUT: I got private notes saying we'd be supportive but we don't want to see some of the same business practices being continued.

It seems that most people in town, even if they didn’t like the club, looked at it as a business deal, a revenue stream. The patrons had sex on their mind but they didn’t do it at the club. You could say the same thing about a singles bar.

At one time, this neon sign hung in front of Club Ioka (Jon Greenberg, NHPR)

Aten says all that can be left behind as one of the more colorful chapters in the history of the Ioka. She's a lot more worried about what lies ahead. Hundreds of people used the Facebook page to post suggestions of how to use the space and to offer their help with time and money. Aten says, that’s all good/// but if you can’t

CUT: Aten: But if you can’t make a viable business out of it, that’s the trick. And I think history has shown here that owner after owner has really struggled to find that magic ingredient to make it work.

So what is that magic ingredient? Maybe it's what Dan Chartrand and all the other backers of arts and theater in any New Hampshire town have taken to heart. Maybe it's the need for local people to take their own culture scene a lot more seriously.

I asked Chartrand a pretty basic question. Why does he care so much about the performances and shows in Exeter. He had a basic answer.

CUT: Chartrand: I believe those are expressions of our innermost feelings and dreams. And if we're not doing that in our town, then we are incomplete. And I want the town I love to be complete.

Chartrand wants to get as many people as he can to march behind that banner. His message is not just for Exeter. If everybody did that in their own towns too, he thinks that would be great.

For NHPR News, I’m Jon Greenberg.