Scott Levy, producing artistic director of Penobscot Theatre for the past four years, calls it “imperative” the arts not diminish in an area like Bangor.

“The arts contribute to the sense of place. I’m not an outdoorsman, but imagine, what if Cadillac Mountain went away? It’s the same thing,” said Levy, 33, of Bangor.

Community support is high, but at this time, “the arts are not first on anybody’s mind,” said David Whitehill, the BSO’s executive director for the last year and a half. Whitehill, 30, of Bangor, said nonprofits such as health and human services are more popular for donations than arts at this time. “I can absolutely understand that, but that doesn’t mean that arts and culture shouldn’t be considered in the same breath. We do a lot for this community as far as quality of life.”

George Kinghorn, 41, of Bangor, director of UMMA since June 2008, feels similarly: “It’s important that the arts hold their strength in the state. We’re in an economic downturn at the moment, but it isn’t always going to be like that. We have to hold the boat steady. The arts are typically always the first to get cut, but they’re the most lasting bits of civilization, really.”

Practical corners were the first to be trimmed for these three Bangor bastions of “the most lasting bits of civilization.”

To save on expensive heating oil costs, the Penobscot Theatre did not perform in January and February. Levy worries the coming fiscal year will be tough. The theater will need to create a budget with 20 percent less expenses, a task he calls difficult but not impossible. The nonprofit theater employs a 10 to 12 person staff year-round and roughly 100 employees through the year. Everyone is paid. Penobscot Theatre has not closed any existing programming but has postponed new ideas. The theater puts on eight productions per season.

“How the organization operates will change. It has to change. We can’t sit back and wait for the economy to turn around. That’s ludicrous,” Levy said. “The productions next year are all smaller. One of the shows we did this year had 14 actors in it and five sets. That’s just too much.”

Levy’s plan echoes the attitude across the nation. According to a National Public Radio report last week, the Theater Communications Group surveyed 200 theaters and found 30 percent said they planned to produce plays with smaller casts.

Kinghorn said UMMA’s budget impact has not been dramatic this year. The museum’s only tangible cut thus far is four to five summer teaching positions. Kinghorn said the elimination will mean more work for the museum’s five-person staff. He continues to pursue earned income work to bring money into the museum, speaking with corporations about the benefits of supporting the museum.

To “slim down to where we become as efficient as possible,” internal overhead costs for the BSO were the first to go, according to Whitehill. Four years ago, the BSO paid five salaried employees and three contracted employees, a number that has reduced to two salaried employees, with only one working full-time, and two contracted employees. The orchestra transferred its box office responsibilities to the Collins Center for the Arts at the University of Maine and moved its office from a visible presence on Main Street in Bangor to Husson College.

“I don’t have a photocopier anymore. We use Husson’s,” Whitehill said. “We have to balance the budget every year now, and we’ll have to make some sacrifices. But mostly we’ve taken out some of the overhead and administrative expense.”

He doesn’t think the BSO has seen the worst of the recession.

“We are not in an economic crisis,” said Whitehill, formerly an Orange County director who worked multiple Southern California orchestras. “A crisis has an end. I think this is a condition we’re going to be in for some time. I think we have to brace ourselves.”

To combat a potentially dragging Bangor arts scene, Kinghorn, Levy and Whitehill meet regularly to discuss their situations and share ideas, often with executives from Bangor’s Maine Discovery Museum and the Bangor Public Library.

“We’re not in competition. We realize there’s a lot to be had by sitting around a table and talking, because each of us might have a different perspective,” Whitehill said. They can openly discuss their revenues – as long as they’re trend together in success or lack thereof, there is solace.

“I think it’s important to be in the company of other good colleagues who are trying to do really good things for the community,” Kinghorn said. The group recently proposed a project to the Cultural Arts Commission for the City of Bangor to help package and promote all Bangor’s cultural organizations with arts district signs and an “annual printed marketing rack card so that visitors can know what is going on at the various cultural venues,” Kinghorn said.

The BSO will collaborate with UMaine’s Collins Center for the Arts to bring two artists – violinist Chee-Yun and cellist Alisa Weilerstein – next season, something neither organization could afford solo.

“We have done everything we can to not take away from any bit of our artistic product. The art is the core of our organization,” Whitehill said. “We haven’t brought the economy into the artistic discussion.

“We still should be moving forward. We’re investing more in the artistic product because that’s what we’re about. Sometimes that’s where people cut first, and that,” he said, banging his hand on the table, “is not an option, as far as I’m concerned.”

While pulling through the recession may be taxing, Kinghorn intends for the audiences to be exempt from the troubles.

“Even in this economic climate, our supporters see the value in the arts as playing a big role in the vibrancy of a city,” Kinghorn said. “We will continue to provide a really quality product. The impact on our audience is not going to be noticeable.”

“We still look as strong as ever,” Whitehill said. He referred to the cross-organizational idea of a “sacred cow” – a cherished tradition or program organizations continue to support every year, although it may not be well-funded or well-supported.

“We never question it, we just do it,” he said. The symphony’s sacred cow was a sixth classical performance in its season, which has been nixed for an easier-to-manage pops concert.

Several musicians have returned paychecks or offered their services for free, fostering a “What can we do to help?” attitude, Whitehill said.

Levy, who lived in New York City and produced on Broadway prior to coming to Maine, is on alert but not in despair for the future of the 35-year-old Penobscot Theatre.

“We have to be cautious in this time, absolutely. Do I think Penobscot Theatre is ever really going to go away? No. I’m not convinced the community would allow that to happen,” Levy said. “I’m more concerned for communities that house more than one professional theater company.”

His concern is valid. The Christian Science Monitor reported in March that the National Endowment for the Arts researched to find the national unemployment rate of artists is roughly double that of other professionals. The Portland Symphony Orchestra cut jobs, reduced salaries and artist fees, canceled performances and scaled back educational programs to cope with a $220,000 deficit, according to a February article by the Portland Press Herald.

“We are doing more programming with less budget,” said Kinghorn, who has worked in the arts for 15 years, the last decade in museums, most recently as director and curator at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Jacksonville, Florida. UMMA now hosts events like a fashion show, a photography scavenger hunt in Bangor, and lunchtime talks.

“We’re doing a heck of a lot,” Kinghorn said. “It’s not good enough just to have the art on the wall. You have to find ways to connect with diverse audiences.”

Innovation, flexibility and “making the museum a more lively place” are key, Kinghorn said. Finding new audiences through community outreach is one of his priorities. UMMA hosted an evening “art walk” in the museum and welcomed more than 300 visitors – the most the museum has seen in a single day. Art walks will become a quarterly happening.

The BSO initiated a voucher program for students in March. Students with vouchers can attend for free, bring a sibling or friend for free, and buy tickets for any other family members for $10.

“You can’t tell me that’s not affordable,” Whitehill said. He strives for cost effectiveness and large attendances, but perhaps most important, as with Kinghorn, is a broad audience connection. Whitehill uses the symphony’s revamped image as an example: The logo change added more prominence to the word Bangor and less to Symphony Orchestra.

“It’s not necessarily about the symphony – it’s about our community,” he said.

Levy corroborated the need to broaden audience appeal for Penobscot Theatre. More well-known plays will be one strategy, although keeping the theater’s aesthetic mission intact is critical.

“Noting that discretionary income is less than it was, what is going to get people to say they need to come to the theater, as opposed to ‘I’d like to come to the theater’? It has a lot to do with name recognition. But that doesn’t mean I would ever do ‘Cats,’” Levy said.

The theater recently enjoyed success with “On Golden Pond” and “Little Shop of Horrors.”

Levy sees Bangor as full of opportunities, particularly for arts activities.

“If the people want all of the arts and cultural opportunities that are here to stay here, to help improve the quality of life in the area, they have to attend,” he said.

Whitehill said BSO attendance is a problem, and he is willing to do nearly anything, including dirt-cheap ticket prices, to fill the seats.

“Inflation goes up, the cost of what we do goes up, but ticket sales have stayed the same. Every year the gap gets bigger. But we have all these empty seats. Why don’t you put somebody in that seat? Sell it for $5, get them in. Would you rather have no money, or some money?” Whitehill said.

Machias Savings Bank sponsored UMMA in 2008 and 2009 to underwrite free admission. Kinghorn is hopeful the museum will remain free in 2010.

“That sends a particularly strong message in the current economic situation as people are looking for ways to spend their leisure time without spending a lot of money,” he said, adding the museum’s attendance has increased substantially in 2009.

Penobscot Theatre’s contributed income, which makes up for roughly half its annual budget, is down 20 percent to 30 percent, Levy said. Government, foundation and corporation support are the biggest drops, with severe declines Levy called troubling.

“Box office is down, but not as down as I would’ve expected,” he said. It’s dropped 5 percent after the company’s most successful year ever. Earned income for the Penobscot Theatre – the other half of its budget – comes from ticket and concession sales, educational programming and renting out the Bangor Opera House, which the organization owns.

After July 1, 2008, nonprofit organizations lost immunity from overtime and minimum wage labor laws. The law change was a major budgetary hit for the Penobscot Theatre.

“It’s long hours, long nights, a lot. And if you’re getting paid for that, it’s beyond our ability,” Levy said.

Whitehill recalled stories of organizations across America with endowments sinking 40 percent to 50 percent. The BSO draws 5 percent from its endowment each month, an amount that has lessened with a decreasing endowment. He called individuals the core of the donor base.

“The good news is people are giving. People are attending. People are still sticking by us and giving whatever they can afford to give,” Whitehill said. While foundation and corporate giving has plummeted, “endowments have been almost obliterated,” Whitehill said of the national scene. He said the BSO has more individual donors this year than last.

Nationally, museums are also hurting from anemic endowments. The Los Angeles Times reported in March that the J. Paul Getty Trust, “envied as the economic Goliath of the museum world,” would face a 25 percent budget cut amounting to $1.5 billion. The Times added this week that 205 jobs would be sliced as well.

“We don’t have that situation here,” Kinghorn said. Like the BSO, UMMA relies greatly on individual support. In this respect, UMMA benefits from its smaller size as a museum; larger institutions critically reliant on annual endowments have struggled. “This is a situation where small, like our museum, may be better. In this particular economy, big is not better. Running a lean and mean operation can be very beneficial.”

Until six months ago, Levy witnessed an economic growth in Bangor. Now he’s seeing it decline in the empty Main Street store fronts.

“That’s concerning to me. [Penobscot Theatre] operates as an anchor to downtown. So if downtown starts shrinking, then only in turn will our work shrink,” Levy said. He cited historical economic development of downtown districts thanks to entertainment venues.

“Every person who buys a ticket and comes to see a show of ours will probably spend an additional $24 in the community, via shopping or eating or drinking. That’s the actual figure from Americans for the Arts for every ticket sold,” Levy said, adding if there are less places to eat and shop, the entire experience is lessened. The economies of arts and business go hand in hand, Levy said.

“It’s all about the whole experience. The play in the theater is the main course, but we’ve got to have the appetizer and the dessert,” Levy said.

It’s three in the afternoon Saturday and I’m at a friend of a friend’s house. Before it even got off the ground, the yearly underground romp in the woods has been busted or called off, depending who you talk to. This group is sitting on couches and lawn chairs in their yard, drinking beer and throwing a Frisbee. A piece of printer paper hangs above a brown, furry pelt and not-so-boldly proclaims this Kangaroofest.

Back at my house, there’s another substitute for the fallen Chickenfest: A neighbor’s parking lot-style driveway is packed with cars, music and people.

My phone beeps with a text message. I look out my window and see the party next door has dissipated instantly.

Chickenfest, a secretive University of Maine tradition going back one or two decades – again, depending who you ask – is back on. It’s a sojourn into the woods where anywhere from hundreds to thousands of people trek out for music, cookouts, fire, camping and intoxication. Who exactly chooses the spot, draws up the directions, sends the text messages? It’s tough to tell. It’s taken me four years of college to actually experience Chickenfest.

This year, the fest started deep in the Maine wilderness an hour and a half from Orono and was forced to relocate to a spot 30-ish minutes away. The drive takes a friend and I down winding roads farther and farther from civilization. When the route turns to dirt, we stop the car and listen for a minute, trying to discern party sounds from the cacophony of crickets and frogs. My friend was raised near a city and has never seen the stars this bright; we’re nowhere near anything – no houses, no electricity, no traffic.

What sounds like a scream cuts into the night. It’s followed by a trace of music. We’re almost there. We get to a parade of parked cars and start walking. We try counting the seemingly endless vehicles at first and are smart to stop; a full count would number well over 100.

After a 15 minute walk in the dark, wondering what to expect from the evening, we’re at Chickenfest. A handful of big fires dot the main gathering area. Several RVs accompany tons of tents. A few dogs amble happily around. Hundreds of people dance in a pulsing mass while local bands and DJs jam on a sizable stage. The music, powered by a gas generator, will continue until sun-up.

I have two beers – a can in pocket and a bottle in hand. This may not be in the spirit of the event, but I want to remember the night – as a senior, it’s my first and potentially last Chickenfest. Accordingly, a stranger toasts my beer and says, “Happy chicken.”

A growing group gathers atop a camper, standing and dancing between two kayaks on racks. As I wander deeper into the swaying crowd of glowsticks and dreadlocks, beards and Birkenstocks, the gargantuan size dawns on me – this is a party only a forest could contain.

Walking around all evening, I see friends at various levels of lucidity; some have been here since early afternoon, and some are in better shape than others.

An enormous grill is cooking food around the back of the stage. These guys not only hauled the apparatus out here, but bought 250 pounds of chicken to throw on it. They charge $1 a piece. I’m starving, and whether it’s the timeliness or the taste, it’s some of the best chicken I’ve ever had.

Dancing in front of the stage, an intense heat hits my back: A couch is on fire. A couple guys are taking turns sitting on it nonchalantly. The couch erupts into a blaze and suddenly, whatever it’s made of – could be polyester, could be dynamite – causes the couch to combust and vaporize. Someone in a yellow chicken suit runs around the inferno to high fives, cheers and a Chickenfest chant. This is anarchy.

By 2 a.m., it’s impossible to take a step without stepping on crinkled beer cans and kicking strewn bottles. We walk by three police cars on the way to our car – they’ve located Chickenfest for the second time in a day, but the event has escalated to a size where the only manageable law enforcement is rudimentary ID checks and sobriety tests. We fold down the car seats and catch a few uncomfortable hours of shut-eye to drive home just before dawn.

Los Angeles Times columnist Steve Lopez (Downey) wants to get a story out of the street musician who plays on two violin strings and introduces himself as Nathaniel Anthony Ayers Jr. (Foxx), spelling out every letter. Nathaniel is a musical genius who dropped out of Julliard 30 years earlier when schizophrenia began to plague him. Now he sleeps on the streets of L.A., worships Beethoven, becomes frantic at the sight of litter and can only transcend his mental illness when he’s channeling the splendor of music.

Downey and Foxx brilliantly inhabit these characters, based on actual people whose account was published in 2008 after a series of Lopez’s columns focusing on the troubled prodigy Ayers. The transformative performances and beautiful cinematography painting L.A.’s cityscape as both majestic and gritty are talking points, but the story can’t decide what it wants to be or what direction to take in arriving at its destination.

“The Soloist” isn’t a buddy movie or a redemption story, but a sad, noncommittal spin on urban homelessness and mental illness. The closing credits enumerate the amount of homelessness in Los Angeles, but to what purpose? To assert that if everyone befriended one homeless person, as Lopez did Ayers, everything would be a little better? It’s never clear, especially with an ending that inadequately attempts to wrap the story’s moral in a bow.

Director Joe Wright, who last helmed 2007′s “Atonement,” takes some nice chances with the movie, like a prolonged, trippy visualization of how the musical wizard Nathaniel experiences classical music. A performance by Nathaniel on cello is also treated beautifully, played from beginning to end in an L.A. tunnel while traffic whirs and pigeons flap to provide the applause – it’s the sound of the city Nathaniel adores. The movie isn’t short of transcendental scenes like this, and it’s stocked with humor from Downey’s quips and Foxx’s off-the-wall wardrobe of sequins and various headwear.

“I’ve never loved anything the way that he loves music,” Downey tells his editor-slash-ex-wife, played by Catherine Keener (“The 40 Year Old Virgin”). That rings true, but similar sappy comments at the film’s conclusion don’t make up for the disjointed two hours that make up “The Soloist.”

Grade: C+

While we never found time to hang out apart from our relationship as editor at the Maine Campus and Student Entertainment maestro, he texted me more than once suggesting we chat over beer.

That’s a long way of me proving the guy was a beer lover. Since last fall, he’d been a fan of Novare Res Bier Cafe in the Old Port – a pub that offers “members” a checklist to keep track of their conquest of 200 beers. When he died last Tuesday, he had 13 down, 187 to go.

Andrew Gerke’s friends and family made a pilgrimage to Novare Res on Saturday night to finish what he started, just as Christopher Tolkien finished the work of his father, J.R.R., in chronicling Middle-earth.

—

At 9 p.m., I find the brick pub and proceed to wait 15 minutes for a beer; a side bar is completely mobbed with people chipping away at Andrew’s list. Novare Res and its spacious beer garden are swarmed with people wearing both red and blue Red Sox hats reading, “In Loving Memory: Andrew Gerke: 8/8/84 – 4/14/09.” Later, upward of 40 people gather for the event to sing a boisterous rendition of the Maine “Stein Song” outside.

When I finally get my hands on the list, there are hardly any beers left. According to Andrew’s friend Brandon Aaskov, a separate group from Team Gerke heard what was going on and pitched in, purchasing some of the more expensive beers.

Cory Sims, Andrew’s sister’s boyfriend, orchestrated the event. Cory is quick to downplay his role.

“It’s all in the name of Andy,” Cory says. After hearing Andrew was a fan of the establishment and that he’d hoped to finish all the beers, Cory spoke to the Novare Res manager.

“He’d never done anything like this before, and he was ready to just do it,” he says.

Cory left with Andrew’s sister, Katy McAlister, at seven for dinner at Margaritas.

“At that point, the bartenders were like, ‘You know, if you guys don’t finish it tonight, we’ll keep it going. You’ve got a long ways to go.’ And we got back here at nine and they’re like, ‘There’s only about 12 beers left,’” Cory says, laughing. “So people did a lot of work.”

The beers range from $5 to more than $30 and come from all over the world, with a big chunk hailing from Belgium and Germany. With no method, I pick a Belgian Augustijn Ale from the menu; the bartender ducks into the bottle room and returns with a green monster reminiscent of a wine bottle, cork and all. I’ll find out later it costs $21. I’m okay with it because I know why I’m here.

“To finish his list, to finish his goal? I think this is the perfect tribute, because no matter what Andy and I were doing, we had a blast. No. Matter. What,” says Kyle Norris, punctuating each word with a slap of his hands. He’s known Andrew since age six. “Bringing all these people together – from his fraternity, from high school, from drum corps, from bands, everyone together in one place, to celebrate the life of one of the most amazing people I’ve ever known – is incredible.”

He goes on to tell me stories unfit for print, but fit to make me laugh until my face hurts – one memory ends, “that was the best $10 I ever spent.”

That’s the vibe of the evening – there doesn’t appear to be much sad drinking. “Commemorate Andy Gerke” is the name of the Facebook event, and that’s what is happening.

“By the time today came around, we’d gotten a lot of our tears out,” says Dennis Boyd, a 2005 UMaine alum and one of Andrew’s many Sigma Phi Epsilon fraternity brothers. He was at the hospital with Andrew when he died.

“He wouldn’t have wanted a bunch of people sitting around crying about it. He would’ve wanted all his friends to get together, raise a glass, here’s to you,” Dennis says. “This is how I wanna go out. Line ‘em up at the bar.”

Boyd has done his fair share working through Andrew’s list. He estimates 25 Sig Ep brothers came to Novare Res to do the same.

“We had people come incredible lengths just to say goodbye,” Dennis says. Andrew’s friends traveled from Massachusetts, New York and Colorado.

Novare Res is a pub for beer lovers. They serve beer in more than 35 styles of glasses. They decorate the tables with makeshift beer-bottle vases filled with baby’s breath. Empties of prestigious brews line every spare inch of shelf space.

A guy I’ve never met toasts my glass and says, “To Andy.” Photocopies of Andrew’s list float around – “Gerke, Andrew, November 14, 2008,” is written in his handwriting.

At 10:13 p.m., Andrew’s sister Katy buys the last beer. It’s an Allagash, from Maine.

“We are here for one man,” someone yells as a toast. Glasses clink and tears are shed.

Each person who finishes the 200-beer list is given an engraved chalice and a spot to keep it in a locked room.

“There’s one person that’s awarded with a key,” Cory tells me. He holds up a small, ordinary silver key. “Whenever we want, we can open up the gate with this key, grab the chalice and just commemorate Andy Gerke.”

We do just that. Cory removes a large link of heavy chain from a formidable metal gate, and we go into a room full of cubby holes; less than two dozen belong to champions of the challenge. The room is peaceful and quiet, even with the roar of the bar audible in the background.

Cory and Katy say the chalice will be engraved with Andrew’s name, his birth and death dates, and the word “commemorative.” They’ll also put a picture of Andrew in the cubby. They’ve been drinking from Andrew’s chalice – they give me a sip before setting it in his cubby and showing me his completed list.

The list is like Andrew’s life: You show up, it’s astonishing, and you can’t wait for it to go on and on. Then all of a sudden, it’s over with three hours till last call. And it’s still a hell of a way to be sent off. There’s no question everyone here will remember the night and tell the story for ages. The Beer Police will certainly be back, thinking of Andrew and sipping one in his honor.

The council was “stalemated” in an attempt to cast a vote to possibly revoke 103 Ultra Lounge’s special amusement permit and victualer’s (food) license.

“We’ve never done this before,” Gordon said of the council’s license revocation hearing. 103 Ultra Lounge faced difficulties obtaining a license approval from the council in February – two meetings, hours of deliberation and a detailed plan from Snow were required for the eventual green light.

A compliance check on March 21 involving various local law enforcement and state agencies reported 845 patrons – an excess of the club’s 526-occupant capacity. Owner Robbie Snow reported 513 patrons that evening, monitored by a computer. The check was conducted by more than a dozen officers from state police, state fire marshal’s office, state liquor licensing and Orono, Old Town and Veazie law enforcements.

“There’s no way that there was 800,” Snow said. He monitors his establishment with 32 cameras and provided security tapes to the council, asking for a recount. In an interview, Snow’s attorney, Mike Harman, called for a police explanation of the discrepancy. Orono police chief Gary Duquette called the patron overage “painfully obvious” and “shoulder-to-shoulder, wall-to-wall.”

The hearing was circus-like, often with several speakers crowded around a podium, taking turns with the microphone.

Archer’s inability to answer specific questions about the violations until the district court proceedings led to complications. After a break 45 minutes into the hearing, town attorney Tom Russell advised the hearing be continued after the conclusion of Snow’s criminal case.

“It certainly would be improper to proceed without us being able to explore the facts behind these unproven allegations,” Harman said.

“It doesn’t appear we can move forward,” Russell agreed.

The council voted 6 – 1 in favor of a continuance, with councilwoman Cynthia Mehnert voting against.

Harman earlier moved for councilmen Gordon and Mark Haggerty to withdraw from the hearing after a recent meeting at the University of Maine where Gordon called Snow a “f—ing liar,” and Haggerty said he would encourage his daughters not to visit 103 Ultra Lounge. Harman called for the council to act with “the highest degree of impartiality,” twice asking for Gordon and Haggerty to recuse themselves. The council voted unanimously for both councilors to remain.

Gordon stood by his remark.

“My comment was in regard to [Snow's] testimony he gave during his licensing proceeding. I feel that he did misrepresent himself,” Gordon said.

“I did not become biased,” Haggerty said, citing his approval of Snow’s liquor license one month earlier.

Gordon verified with Archer that the state is prepared to monitor 103 Ultra Lounge until the hearing’s continuance, which likely will not occur until summer.

“I’m concerned about responsibility,” Gordon said. “I do not want a situation where we have life safety violations.”

Prior to the 103 Ultra Lounge hearing, Gordon was unanimously voted to continue his post as council chairman. Also, Woodman’s Bar & Grill had its liquor, victualer’s and special amusement permits renewed, and Stillwater One Stop had its victualer’s license renewed.

A Marsh Island deer hunt in October 2009 was unanimously passed after a presentation from the Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife, which indicated the level of deer on the island is a public safety concern. The hunt will be conducted exclusively by the Maine Bowhunters Association and aims “to establish some level of permanency in the deer reduction effort,” said Town Manager Catherine Conlow. University land will be off-limits for the hunt.

Town Planner Evan Richert spoke about continuing plans to redevelop the vacant Webster Mill property. A vote unanimously passed to authorize Town Manager Catherine Conlow to sign a memorandum of understanding with developers Deep Cove II, LLC, a predevelopment company set to explore the property’s possibilities.

“He was one of those people blessed with having a smile that instantly makes you smile when you see it. I’m going to miss that,” stated Brandon Aaskov, a friend of Gerke’s since seventh grade, in an e-mail. Aaskov began a Facebook group, “News about Andrew Gerke” shortly after Gerke’s car crash and admission to Maine Medical Center. The group had 527 members by press time, mourning and commemorating Gerke, who was 24 years old.

“I’m trying to celebrate his life and all the good times we had together instead of mourning his death. He was just too lively and happy a person, I think he’d rather people smile when they think of him instead of cry,” Aaskov said. He set up a PayPal donation system for Gerke’s family and funeral arrangements Tuesday morning after Gerke’s death. At press time, $1,295 had been raised in roughly 36 hours.

“I’m in shock. It’s just been such a whirlwind,” said Katy McAlister, Gerke’s sister. The siblings were two years apart and best friends, she said.

“My brother was an amazing guy. He was a mentor to a lot of people,” she said, adding they closely shared interests and friends. McAlister has been with the family in Biddeford since Tuesday. “We had a hard life together – our parents were divorced, we pretty much only had each other.”

Gerke graduated from the University of Maine in December with a degree in civil engineering. He studied and spoke German. He was a brother in Sigma Phi Epsilon and acted as one of the “naked five” at UMaine hockey games – a zealous group of shirtless fans with the letters M-A-I-N-E painted on their chests. He was vice president of the Sophomore Owls Honor Society.

Gerke was a world traveler. His Facebook shows him in Spain, Italy, Germany, Austria, the Czech Republic, England and Ireland. He volunteered in Chicago for Alternative Spring Break in 2008 and coordinated YouthAIDS events as well as Rock Against Rape at UMaine.

Nearly every personal account of Gerke involved his inseparable ties to music – he was an avid percussionist and horn player.

“That kid lived for music. That’s where he felt the best, was through music. It was so much more than just an outlet for him,” student Jess Long said. She grew up on Gerke’s street and saw him every day in her sophomore year of high school. Like Gerke’s closest friends, she knew him as Andy. “He was a band geek and proud of it.”

Friend Daniel Raphael Cooper in an e-mail called Gerke “probably the most disciplined musician I’ve known,” saying he was a “serious musical inspiration” for him.

Gerke was a member of many marching, jazz and pep bands in his life. He marched with several drum corps, including the Boston Crusaders on trumpet in 2005 and the Phantom Regiment on mellophone in 2006. He traveled to Florida several times with ensembles. On Sunday Gerke told a Maine Campus editor that he was looking forward to seeing Killswitch Engage and Chimaira live this weekend in Portland.

Jamie Reinhold was a percussionist several years behind Gerke at South Portland High School.

“Andy came back every year to help out with our rehearsals and shows. He pushed students hard but in a kind and helpful way, and everyone respected him,” she stated in an e-mail, calling his enthusiasm “contagious.”

“One of my fondest memories is of him walking around our ‘practice field’ – a parking lot, actually – with his clipboard. After a really hard set, he came up to me and told me I had really good marching technique. That compliment from Andy made my night,” Reinhold said.

“I’ve had so many tell me that he’s been just such an inspiration to them,” McAlister said. She called her brother someone people could always talk to.

As vice president for Student Entertainment for most of autumn 2008, Gerke booked two high-profile acts, Dropkick Murphys and O.A.R., for one semester. Earlier, he worked on the final Bumstock in 2006, the MTVU Tour, Dashboard Confessional and Ben Folds with a resume stretching as far back as Gavin Degraw in April 2005.

“I think the students are going to love it,” Gerke said in September in an interview about the Dropkick Murphys concert. He prided himself on the cheap ticket prices he’d created for students. He said he wanted to give students and first-time concertgoers “a good time and show them what a concert’s about.”

“He’s bigger than life,” Long said. She characterized Gerke’s impossible-to-pinpoint personality as “a professional young person.”

“He looks you in the eye when he talks to you and he makes you feel like you’re there, and he sees you,” Long said. She continued to shift between past and present tense in remembering her friend.

“He was hilarious, he was fun to be around, but he knew how to get down to business,” stated alumnus Brett Sowerby in an e-mail. “I probably only know him a fraction better than the hundreds of other students Andrew interacted with – I think that was one of the great things about it: He was able to make people feel like they were great friends and truly important to him. I think he really did think they were important to him.”

Director of Campus Activities and Events Gustavo Burkett knew Gerke personally and in a professional capacity, working together to craft student entertainment.

“Just talking with alumni and Sig Ep, I’ve heard more stories today than I’ve heard in years,” Burkett said on Tuesday. “He was always energized about something. He was a very positive person.”

“You would be talking about something very serious, and he would make up a word in the middle of a sentence and you’re like, ‘What?’ Then you’ll realize he just made that up. He had fun with what he was doing,” said Burkett, a Sig Ep alum.

Gerke’s Sig Ep brother and Student Government President Owen McCarthy said 15 to 20 brothers and alumni went to the hospital Monday and Tuesday.

Many Sig Ep members and friends of Gerke spent Tuesday in the fraternity’s library, consoling each other and reminiscing.

“We started telling some stories about Andrew, some funny stories,” McCarthy said. He remembered Gerke’s sense of style – specifically his stylish glasses – as a first impression.

“He made a point when you were new in the fraternity to meet you, get to know you. He really connected with you pretty immediately.”

His favorite Andrew Gerke story is last summer, when McCarthy was living in Ohio.

“He knew I was by myself, so he used to just call to talk. He was like, ‘Oh, I’m coming to Cincinnati,’ and I’m like, ‘Oh, that’s great,’” McCarthy said. “And Andrew’s like, ‘I can’t see you, though. I just wanted to let you know I’d be in the area.’ Oh, thank you, Andrew, thanks a lot.” Like many nice-guy stories about Gerke, McCarthy’s has a comic bite.

“He definitely was the typical ‘salt of the earth’ Mainer that would give you the shirt off his back even if you didn’t ask for it,” Aaskov said.

Civil and Environmental Engineering Department chair Eric Landis was Gerke’s advisor and professor. They were acquainted since Gerke was a first-year student. Landis called him likable and personable with “very diverse interests.” They met at least once per semester.

“He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, but he obviously had many opportunities in front of him,” Landis said.

Aaskov said Gerke attained an almost competitive zeal when he faced adversity.

“I’ve tried pretty hard to take that kind of attitude toward life, and I still have a hard time,” Aaskov stated in an e-mail. “You know when you see someone like Tony Hawk do a trick and you think, ‘He makes that look so easy?’ That’s how I felt about Andy.”

Aaskov said Gerke applied to more than 60 employers recently.

“It was strange how he said it though. He was just commenting on the economy, not complaining or looking for sympathy,” Aaskov said.

Burkett acknowledged it is “a painful time” and encouraged the community to find personally suitable ways to deal with their grief. He recommended UMaine’s Counseling Center.

“Use each other, because there’s no one better than someone who knew the person to help you remember,” Burkett said.

Two funeral visitation sessions will be at Hobbs Funeral Home in South Portland on Friday, April 17 from 2 to 4 p.m. and 6 to 8 p.m.

A celebration of Gerke’s life will be held Saturday April 19 from 2 to 5 p.m. at Cape Elizabeth – guests are encouraged to bring musical instruments. Detailed directions to both events are available on the Facebook group “News about Andrew Gerke.”

Combining the ingredients of burritos and entrepreneurship, the Furths, married 27-year-old Orono residents, have a classic recipe for their new breakfast and lunch joint, The Bean, which will open this August at 2 Mill St., above Dr. Records.

“We want it to be a fun place to hang out,” Mrs. Furth said, adding The Bean will also be a good fit for an in-and-out lunch experience. Burritos will cost $5 or $6.

The niche is fast casual dining, a thriving market spearheading national growth in the restaurant industry, according to fastcasual.com.

Statistics aside, the Furths’ love for burritos shone on a Tuesday morning as they readied a sample of their upcoming establishment’s signature product. After four hours preparing fresh ingredients the night before, Mrs. Furth was almost set to serve burritos for lunch.

“Every single thing that goes into the burrito, other than the tortilla, we’re making,” Mr. Furth said.

The ingredients are basic: homemade salsa and guacamole; sour cream; rice; black or pinto beans; chicken, chorizo, steak or a vegetarian option; and three choices of 12-inch tortillas for “a real fat burrito,” according to Mr. Furth.

“The more simple, the better. You want to have choices, but you don’t want it to overwhelm you,” he said, assisting his wife with the final touches on the ingredients in their sun-lit kitchen as Bob Marley and Bob Dylan provided the background music.

The Bean will utilize a few easy tricks: Leave out the lard, steam the tortillas and use “super tender” steak. It’s not right to used canned salsa and taco beef is unacceptable, Mr. Furth said.

Are the Furths crazy to open a new business in this economic climate? They contend that with friendly service, a great product and consistency, business will thrive.

“There’s hardship everywhere, but I feel like there’s a lot less of it in Orono,” Mr. Furth said. He views the recession as an opportunity for quality ventures to lift off. “Banks want to lend money to good candidates at competitive rates, and people need something positive. People are really embracing small businesses.”

“Orono is kind of an underserved market,” Mrs. Furth said. “We just have so many people and not very many businesses.”

“There are great businesses already, but there’s a real need for more,” her husband added. “We were able to start Woodman’s because there’s a lot of opportunity in Orono.”

The Bean will have an assembly line counter setup, as in Subway. Tabletop instructions will show how to properly handle the chunky burritos. Housed in a 161-year-old building, the inside of The Bean will be built from scratch after an interior demolition.

The restaurant will feature free wireless Internet, a couch area and a long, library-esque table. Customers will enjoy natural light with massive front windows. Mr. Furth is pondering an “old-school Nintendo system” in the corner. The walls will be adorned with retro, West Coast-style murals.

The Furths plan for an efficient 30-burrito-per-hour benchmark for The Bean. It will be open seven days a week, 7 a.m. to 4 p.m. The Bean will be staffed by five part-time employees; Mrs. Furth will be manager.

“We get bored when we’re not working,” she said. They haven’t taken a vacation in four years. The Bean will be The Furths’ second business that’s open all week. “For us, our work is fun.”

The Furths, both University of Maine graduates who have been together since their early college days, planned to start a burrito business before creating Woodman’s. They took a road trip to the West Coast in 2001 and became burrito-addicted in the San Francisco area.

“We started eating a lot of burritos because they’re everywhere, they’re pretty cheap, they fill you up and they’re healthy,” he said of the trip. The Furths said although the Orono and Bangor area has several Mexican restaurants, the focus is typically on baked entrees – authentic, West Coast-style burritos are scarce in New England.

In 2008, Mr. Furth returned to the West Coast, traveling to Portland, Oregon on a burrito research expedition.

“We traveled around eating burritos for five days,” he said.

“Eating seven burritos a day,” his wife added.

“Yeah, at least,” he said. “I didn’t finish them all. But I did gain like eight pounds.”

Later on Tuesday, the Furths were set to drive to Rockland to visit Rock City Coffee as a potential coffee supplier. The Bean will feature smoothies, baked goods and coffee in addition to the signature burritos.

“Anything that we can buy local, we’ll buy local,” Mr. Furth said. The Bean will represent its distributors, from local eggs to homemade mugs, with wall decor. The Furths also aim to use The Bean’s prime location and foot traffic on Mill Street as a jumping-off point for the rest of Orono’s downtown, highlighting other stops like Rose Bicycle, Dr. Records and the Black Bear Brewery.

“All things that a lot of people don’t know about,” Mrs. Furth said. “We want to make downtown Orono more vibrant, a place that people want to be.”

As lunch was served, the product spoke for itself. The burritos demand to be eaten vertically, carefully, with the aluminum foil gradually unwrapped with progress, hot sauce continually dashed along the way. Each bite is a mouthful of delectable, fresh ingredients; the dedication is evident in the bursting taste. Flavor and attention to detail powers the burrito from end to end.

The burrito satisfies – now the Furths aim to follow suit with The Bean.

It wasn’t an exhibit from an established painter or a new media whiz – it was the opening reception for the vibrant work of University of Maine student artists. Friends, families, faculty and the community joined the artists for a celebratory night of recognition for the artists’ accomplishments.

The annual juried student exhibition is titled “Making Art” for its 2009 iteration, More than 150 people meandered within a smorgasbord of media. Black-and-white photos hung alongside pieces done in oil, acrylic, charcoal and watercolor. Self-portraits were displayed next to abstracts and mixed-media projects, all capable of gluing viewers to the spot for several minutes while deciphering and appreciating. Three-dimensional art formed from metal, clay, wire and dog hair filled the center of the gallery.

“There was an enormous amount of really great work,” said George Kinghorn, director of the University of Maine Museum of Art. He was one of three judges, alongside art faculty James Linehan and Constant Albertson, to whittle 350 entries down to the 76 most outstanding pieces.

“Many people disregard the visual and performing arts as fluff and an easy major that students slide through college taking. But in reality, studio art, for me, at least, is one of the most mentally and physically demanding subjects I have ever pursued,” said fourth-year studio art and advertising student Katie Conroy in an e-mail.

An awards ceremony bisected the reception, conducted by art department chair Susan Groce. Other presenters included art faculty and Kinghorn. More than $6,000 was awarded to dozens of students for their work.

Conroy won an award to attend Haystack Mountain School of Crafts in Deer Isle for two weeks this summer with fully paid tuition and residency. She will study blacksmithing.

“The process of working and reworking steel is a liberating and fascinating concept that I am just beginning to fall in love with,” Conroy said in an e-mail.

Dean’s Exhibition Awards were given to students whose work will go on display for the next year in Stevens Hall, the home of the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences. Winners were Julia Comeau, Barbara Denaro, Tricia Holmes, Justin Lunn, Dorson Plourde, Blaine Puckett, Elise Robichaud, Kathryn Rowley, Eddie Scott, Susan Smith, Kristen Thibodeau, Katrina Vaughan and Tyson Wardwell.

“I couldn’t think of a better award to have received,” said Blaine Puckett, a senior drawing and digital art student, in an e-mail. “I know my mother is a bit bummed at the prospect of having to wait for an entire year to have the work hanging in her house, but she, as an artist herself, understands just what an honor this is.”

“I was thrilled to even have my piece accepted into the show,” said first-year studio art student Tricia Holmes in an e-mail. She created a self-portrait entirely from magazine clippings. “I’m just flattered and honored that someone likes my work enough to want to put it on display – it’s a huge confidence boost.”

A University of Maine music graduate since May 2008, Sara jammed in southern Maine for eight months with a full band. She recorded her first full-length album, “A Curious Paradox,” last October; she identified the February CD release party as “heartwarming,” possibly her favorite show yet.

Then she moved to New York City.

“I’m kind of starting from scratch,” Sara said. She moved to the Bronx in March to network, promote her music and glean inspiration for new material.

Sara, a 23-year-old native of Washington, Maine, recently earned a spot in the top ten musicians to watch in Maine by the Maine Sunday Telegram and enjoyed successful sales at Bull Moose Music. Despite the in-state success, the opportunity to take a shot in New York “wasn’t going to be there forever,” Sara said.

“When I moved here, I knew it was right,” she said. “Portland will always be there, and I can always come back.” She’s also continuing to promote herself in Maine; she performed at a Ray LaMontagne after-party in Portland on April 10.

She quickly found a receptionist-slash-associate’s assistant job at a medical college in New York. She’s been selling records and singing with New York musician Lauren Zettler. A “kind of pop, folk” radio station wants to work Sara’s songs into its rotation.

Most importantly, she landed a gig within three weeks.

“I felt very welcome,” she said of her first solo performance in the city at Rockwood Music Hall. “One guy told me it took him ten months to start playing in N.Y.”

Joining a giant pool of hopeful artists in a city many high caliber talents call home, Sara wasn’t intimidated.

“You can either choose to be envious and kind of jealous by all of them, or you can choose to be inspired. I’ve chosen to be completely inspired and embrace what they do,” she said.

Sara’s sound is a versatile singer-songwriter hybrid of folk and electronic. Each track on her album tries a new idea – she breezes through more than a dozen vocal tracks on “Penny Castles,” coos over a relaxed acoustic riff on “Lonely Hearts” and simply layers her voice over a recording of her father’s 1970s band on “Sometimes,” to a dazzling effect.

“You can still hear the scratches on the record,” she said of “Sometimes.” She grew up singing the song and surprised her father, Bob Richardson, with her duet interpretation on his birthday. “He was bawling his eyes out,” Sara recalled.

The electronic thread in Sara’s work started at UMaine, with an independent study under music professor Beth Wiemann. Sara began experimenting with electronic sounds on a computer program called Reason, re-orchestrating her folk songs with digital sounds.

She recorded her debut in nine days with Mike Flannery. It was mastered by David Kutch, who mastered Grammy-winner “The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill.”

Sara thinks of her disc as somber and subdued – “very much a winter album.” She would like to write a record for each season, experimenting with sounds and vocal techniques.

She calls Joni Mitchell her No. 1 influence. She also loves Bjork, Sufjan Stevens and Feist. She spent time in University Singers and the all-female a capella group Renaissance as a student. The latter ensemble surprised Sara with a rendition of her “Submarines” at a concert last fall.

Sara hopes to visit Maine this summer to perform at the Live at Five concert series in Portland’s Monument Square. Pursuing the dream of music is a real endeavor to Sara, and her journey in New York has just begun.

“Whatever you want to do, you can absolutely do it. If you want to move anywhere in this, you can go move there. The world is here to help you with that.”

That’s all a long way of saying I went to the Sebago Brewing Company pub in Gorham on Monday night. It was the first time I’d had a bunch of miniature glasses to sample different tap offerings since the Real Ale Festival in Wales and England this time last year. It feels a little strange to drink from several tiny glasses while your friend sips from a tall pint, but if you’re a beer geek and love collecting new tastes, it’s worth it.

Sebago sells one-third pint glasses for $1 each and had six brews on draft when I visited. This brewery showed up on my radar at a Sea Dogs game last summer, when it was Sebago or Bud Light to complement the afternoon ballgame. The brewery picked up steam in my favorites with the Slick Nick Winter Ale. I couldn’t wait to try a slew of their stuff at the pub.

The knowledgeable bartender set the following brews out for me: Northern Light Ale, Runabout Red Ale, Boathouse Brown Ale, Frye’s Leap IPA, Full Throttle Double IPA and Lake Trout Stout. If, as a beer fan, you’re not salivating right now, check your pulse.

I’ve always been surprised to hear friends recommend a light beer as their favorite from a microbrewery. With the Northern Light Ale, I could actually see that. When I write “wicked tasty” in my notebook, that’s a good sign. It was super drinkable with superior hops that barely approached bitter – although bitter isn’t bad, it’s interesting to drink something with a lot of hops and only a little bitterness.

The red and brown ales were both solid. The red’s taste got a little victimized by the onion rings I was scarfing, but the brown only reassured me that this is one of my favorite styles of beer. With this bias, the brown ale was my choice pick for the night.

Trying Sebago’s standard and double IPAs back-to-back was a blast. If, in terms of hop intensity, the standard IPA was like eating an orange, the double was like chomping down on an orange peel. Intense. Unrelated note: Later that night, I heard a guy order an IPA phonetically – “I’ll take an ee-pah.”

This brought me to the Lake Trout Stout, the end of the light-to-dark line of taste testing. A great oatmealy, mellow, thick stout, it proved Sebago doesn’t deal in missteps or weak points.

Before I graduate and light out for the territories (Martha’s Vineyard) on May 15, I’m hoping to make it to Shipyard Brewing Co. in the Old Port and the Oak Pond Brewery in Skowhegan. Don’t hesitate to send me an e-mail at style@mainecampus.com if you have any recommendations for the last one or two columns.

Cheers!