The Old Port

A jug band takes a stand

By Theresa Flaherty

With the holiday season descending upon downtown like a blanket of new-fallen cash flow, the ongoing effort to keep Portland’s quaint, cobblestone streets safe and shopper-friendly has some storekeepers checking their list of unwanted pedestrians twice: punks (check), drunks (check), stray Shakespeareans reciting prose (check), jug bands . . . jug bands?

Yes, that’s right, Emmet Otter’s local counterparts, the Half Moon Jug Band, became the latest addition to that unofficial list of the Old Port unwanted last Sunday when they were politely asked to make way for the annual Victorian holiday parade.

“I asked them to, if they could, move to another park or corner,” explains Amy Krawczyk, marketing director for the Portland Downtown District (PDD), which is contracted by the city to provide entertainment for many downtown and Old Port events, including the Victorian holiday, now in its seventh year.

But band members did not want to leave their prime spot on Exchange Street, in front of the closed-off alleyway across from Gallery 7.

“That spot is the only spot on Exchange Street where we’re not in front of someone’s store, blocking their door or window or menu board,” says jug band frontman Troy Bennett. He says the band was happy to stop playing during the parade but otherwise was staying put.

The PDD’s event license encompasses the arts district and the Old Port, but Krawczyk says there are no easily definable boundaries.

“It’s sort of a roving event,” explains Krawczyk. “As an events planner, you’re basically holding or protecting the space for your event.” In addition to horse-drawn buggies she hires Victorian-garbed carolers to wander the streets, all in the name of creating a hospitable and economic downtown environment. But, like a ghost from a hillbilly Christmas, the jug band, smack in the middle of all this Victoriana, might not quite jibe with this theme of a gentler era, although the band, with its repertoire of Christmas carols, makes an effort to fit in.

“People wave to us and make requests. Victorian carolers serenaded us one time when we were on a break,” says Bennett. “If carolers want to sing in that spot, we’ll finish our song and let them.”

According to Bennett, who, along with band member Jim Roberts, has been playing Portland’s streets for 11 years, this is the first time they’ve been asked to move, although he admits the band has been yelled at occasionally. When asked to move, he questioned Krawczyk about whether she could legally require them to do so; she honestly wasn’t sure.

According to Gary Wood, the city attorney for Portland, there is no legal recourse to force the musicians to move. And this isn’t the first time the issue has come up.

“About five years ago we worked out an informal agreement with a number of musicians who were playing lower Exchange Street,” he says. “They agreed to move to another location if a business or the PDD asked them to. The issue is if they’re playing in one spot all day, it can really drive people in the stores crazy.”

In exchange for moving if asked, the musicians wouldn’t be required to become licensed, as artists who sell their paintings on the street have to.

But for Bennett, the right to perform in public spaces is an issue of free speech that doesn’t change because the band throws down a mandolin case to solicit tips.

“We told her [Krawczyk] that we were willing to go to jail for our right to present alternate music to the state-sponsored Victorian thing,” says Bennett, who thinks the Victorian theme is getting old.

And while Bennett counts cocoa-bearing employees of establishments such as JavaNet among the band’s fans, the aggressive sounds of such classics as “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” issuing forth from kazoos may be more than some people can take.

“The Half Moon Jug Band is beloved by many merchants,” agrees Krawczyk who has hired them in the past to perform. “But anything like that all day feels like noise.” That’s when she gets calls from business and property owners as well as area residents who would prefer to let Krawczyk’s office handle it, rather than call police to complain.

“The onus ends up in our office,” says Krawczyk. “We work for everyone.”

Both the band and Krawczyk say it is a combination of people, businesses, and events that keeps Portland lively. As Portland continues to grow, Krawczyk thinks the city needs to take a look at how best to weigh the rights of performers, pedestrians, and business owners alike.

Wood says he hopes an agreement can be reached with the musicians, but says if they can’t see eye to eye the issue could find its way to the city’s Public Saftey Committee, which could call for a change to city ordiance requiring licensing of street musicians.

In the meantime, Bennett, who is aware of shop owners’ concerns, thinks local businesses should lighten up.

“The shop owners are hypersensitive about who hangs out,” he says. “The city isn’t theirs just because they run a store. It belongs to everybody; that’s why people go down there.”