special features the Sunday daily on diversions iber2O Night Editor: Dan Zwerdling January 18, 1970 4 new Canterbury gospel according to Rev. Hammond By LANIE LIPPINCOTT LAST SUNDAY at Canterbury House, Craig Hammond,. the freaky minister who is responsible. for running the whole show, stuck his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans, looked down at his shoes and quietly proclaimed the Apocalypse. It is not unusual for a Christ- ian sect to predict the coming of the end. But the regulars at Can- terbury House are not some neuro- tic sect tuned onto mysticism; the end they are talking about is a dramatic reorientation in the way Canterbury runs. Indeed, t h e Canterbury House regulars, have been pacesetters, not doomsayers. They are "the people who book- ed Janis Joplin and Neil Young last year and the Byrds and Com- mander Cody last night. They are the. ministers of a new culture. And they are the people who have housed Resistance and t h e Argus and the White Panther press conferences. They sponsor- ed a panel discussion on Marxism with Polish writer Jerzy Kosin- t!i. They gave refuge to the Liv- ing Theatre after, Ann Arbor police arrested the actors last year. And they hold "multi-media" worship on Sundays. This peculiar blend of booking agency -- half-way house and church -- constitutes Canterbury.. It is as if the house has synthe- sized all the elements of a stu- dent populism manifested in such diverse movements and currents as the Port Huron Statement, the Peace Corps, the Chicago demon- strations, and the McCarthy cam- paign and created a counter-cul- tural center for the disaffected. jN ATTEMPTING to nurture a spontaneous community, Can- terbury House studiously resists succumbing to elitist direction. In- stead, Hammcnd and Canterbury regulars see their movement as a revolution; 'and it is a pro- foundly traditional revolution- a reaction against modern organi- zation men and an attempt to create a small unit of the global village. The intellectual currents a r e exemplified in Hammond himself, a minister within the most con- servative of churches and a man immersed in a turbulent society. But neither Hammond, nor any one person controls Canterbury House. For if that were to happen, Canterbury might easily be thwarted in performing what the regulars see as its function - to break people out of 'socially as- signed roles and discover them- selves together. Though the Sunday service is Episcopal, it attracts all denomi- nations and races - Jews, WASP, blacks, Catholics. Hammtond explains that the Sunday worship often draws a straighter crowd than the con- certs and weekly activities. H e' prefers to describe the Canter- bury H o u s e constituency as a "grass roots thing" and wants to keep it that way. "There's no specific member- ship I can call up," he says. "When we want to change things, we just get a bunch of people together and try to get, a sense of where they are." CANTERBURY HOUSE tries to be a completely open society, one which encourages people to participate and respond to e a e h others' needs. Hammond believes that society can be humanized by "Something as insignificant as the way people experience entertain- ment." But in spite of Hammond's con- viction that the small changes of Canterbury House contribute to a movement which will change the texture of society there is a fear of the future. There is an urgency to his words; for "the movement" must take hold before our society becomes a repressive totalitarian state. Last Sunday Hammond read a statement he and other college ministers wrote in Cambridge. Mass., this December. Though of- ten couched in a style reminis- cent of William Butler Yeats' "Se- cond Coming," the new American they envision sounds a lot like the same one Walt Whitman pro- claimed in "Song of Myself." "A new political man is com- ing into being. He is no longer the rapist of the world and its people. He demands the creation of a new order, and for the real- ization of that order he is committing his life. "We awake from the dream of American innocence, taught in the schools and reinforced by our parents, to a nightmare: the American Empire. Out of our histories events flash across the screen of memory-Greensboro, Bay of Pigs, Port Huron, Berk- eley, Selma, the Pentagon, Chi- cago, and Song My. Sleepers awake. Awake! The gods of the cold war mythologies and an uncriticized American Dream are dead, and everything h a s become possible and impossible at the same time .. . the old is breaking up, indeed MOST of it must break up, and the new is just begining to emerge." THE STRUCTURE of Canter- bury House itself has changed during the 1960's - a time when most of the old order has been challenged. Just five years ago, the Can- terbury House was located in the Episcopal mission - five blocks off campus - in a large old house next door to the St. Andrew's Episcopal Church. Its function was limited to being a forum for occasional study groups. Few traces of the earlier Can-' terbury House are outwardly ap- parent these days as the small coffeehouse wedged in the alley between Gold Bond Cleaners and the Salt Box Gift Ship fills to ca- pacity for concerts three to four nights a week - serving cider and folk music to three to four thous- and people. But Hammond believes that the popular crowd drawing concerts are only one function of Canter- bury House and should not be al- lowed to dominate its role on the campus. "Our effectiveness 'is not determined by numbers of peo- ple," he notes. THUS, Canterbury House tries to give people something more than entertainment. Though this fall was a monetary success, it was not a spiritual one. "In subtle ways Canterbury House was be- coming; part of the insane sociali- zation process. The place was turning into a store where people assumed the role of consumers just as they assume the role of a passive congregation or submis- sive students," Hammond says. "The entertainment has to be a full experience not only for the audience but for the ticket peo- ple, the doormen, the janitors here at night," he says. This semester Canterbury House is scheduling only f o u r concerts a month in order to keep its schedule flexible, to enable it to respond to spontaneous camp- us events. Hammond was upset this fall that a performer w a s scheduled the weekend of the Nov. 15 protest, preventing Canterbury House from contributing fully to moratorium activities. JOR THE first time in several years there was no profes- sional entertainment Friday night. Instead, Hammond said, Canter- bury House would open its doors to all comers, and let those who would venture in create their own entertainment. "We're trying to open up phy- sical and psychic space." he says. Here, he says, "no rules are pre- scribed, Everyone defines their own bounds." However the casual passerby drifting over after a movie Fri- day night found Canterbury House dark and the door locked. But if one way doesn't work, Canterbury House will be quick to shift to some other alternative to maintain its responsiveness to the campus. E mainstay, of course, is the Sunday worship service. Peo- ple sit at small round tables drinking coffee and talking when suddenly rock music explodes from overhead speakers and t h e service begins - a collage of Old and New Testament readings, communal singing usually led by a guy up front with electric gui- tar, and perhaps some poetry or a movie or a group discussion of why everybody decided to come. And there is Holy Communion. The bread is home-made, baked by someone in the crowd who likes to bake bread. It is passed from hand to hand and you tear your- self a hunk. The wine too is pass- ed around and there's usually enough for second helpings if you want it. IN THE basement of Canterbury House in his wide office which is just wide enough for pacing, Hammond marches back and forth talking about the future. "T h e Church is losing its shirt financ- ially" he says. Apparently it is, judging from a letter decorating his wall in which the Washtenaw County Council of Church de- mands that Reverend Hammond immediately remit the 8 cents due on his Blue Cross Policy. Meanwhile, Hammond is looking for alternate and co-operative ways of funding for Canterbury House. He's now toying with the idea of education. For $15 p e r semester, people would enroll in courses taught by Joan Baez or Carl Rogers. He envisions a course in Marxism and musicology taught by Dave van Ronk, and a class in child development taught by children. In the near future, Canterbury House would like to attempt a town meeting, harking back to one of our earliest forms of parti- cipatory democracy. Hammond says that people everywhere from rural North Da- kota to suburban Detroit, are ach- ing to ask questions about where our society is going. "One ques- tion starts them off and they're in orbit," Hammond says. And he sees Canterbury House as harking back to the real tradi- tion of Christianity. "We're more faithful to the tradition than what is usually referred to as tradition," he says. Hammond says that the attempt of Canterbury House is "a commit- ment to a consistent and rhythmic way of life where making live is no different from going to work. But Hammond is the first to ad- mit that the people at Canter- bury House are still looking for this alternative society that none of his ideas may work out. "We haven't become set - we haven't found the way," he says with a poetic intensity that tells you that he's going to devote the rest' of his life to trying to find out. s, 0'. -Daily-Andy Sacks -Daly-Andy Sacks s A coffeehouse with politics: The Alternative thatfi zzled By TIM BRANDYBERRY AFTIER NINE happy but hassled weeks, the Alternative coffeehouse died a natu- ral death last summer and not even the students who bought shares in the enter- prise seemed to mourn. The student-faculty owned and operated coffeehouse opened in June in the IHA of- fice of the Student Activities Bldg. It closed In mid-August and hoped to re-open in the Union at the start of the fall semester. It hasn't re-opened and its managers have declared the informal corporation defunct. The pitfalls of a business operation run by amateurs seem obvious enough even with- in., the umbrella of the University corn- -munity, but last year at this time the pos- sibilities for the success of an alternative place to socialize seemed full of promise. Students in the fishbowl hawking $5 shares to their peers and interested profes- ors explained that the coffeehouse could be a center for extracurricular intellectual activity on campus, much as European cof- feehouses serve as political action centers. 1H-E IDEA for a coffeehouse was conceived in the fall of 1968, physics Prof. Marc Ross says, to help counteract frustration generated during the presidential election "between tweedledee and tweedledum." Hopefully, the coffeehouse would become a place for keeping alive the spirit of polit- ical protest which has mushroomed in re- cent years. The name "Alternative" was chosen as a tribute to Sen. Eugene McCarthy's attempt to provide an alternative to the politics, and leadership of the major parties. However, Ross, a McCarthy backer, says people could interpret the name any way they wish. Ross's idea caught on. Students turned out in numbers to sell the concept and the Uni- versity administration provided moral sup- port. "I like the idea of a place where stu- dents and faculty can meet in an informal atmosphere, where there is some kind of intellectual programming involved. This was the original idea of the place," explains Acting Vice President for Student Affairs Barbara Newell.. When it opened in June, however, the coffeehouse fell short of these great ex- pectations. It became difficult to arrange find the Alternative an easy and pleasant place to catch lunch or a snack. The coffeehouse managed to break even in August, but it was still nearly $2500 in debt (excluding capital) when it closed. Joel Rosenberg, who helped operate the place, says a certain loss was inevitable, but that much money was wasted because of "bad management." "Informality is one thing. The discount store is an informal outfit, but it has good, solid, together, business-like management. We were all inexperienced in b:-'mess man- agement. We made a lot of errors, like in bookkeeping." "We"eincludes Ross, Rosenberg, student manager Pete Nieto and physics Prof. Har- vey Gould. They hoped the Alternative would. maintain a relaxed and friendly atmosphere, but this didn't always work to the coffee- house's benefit. The Alternative "was really taken ad- vantage of," Rosenberg says, recalling that it was almost impossible to determine who was working, who was ,hanging around and who was getting paid. Furthermore, a num- ber of staff and their friends would take free meals at the struggling coffeehouse, he says. Fran, a red-haired girl who sometimes worked at the Alternative remembers "We kept giving away free food to people who were hungry." It may have been bad busi- ness, Fran admits, but "that's not where the Alternative was at." U NFORTUNATELY, good-heartedness got to the Alternative after a while-espe- cially since the coffeehouse was not sub- sidized at all by the University. The Alternative and Mark's are the only coffeehouses in the city not subsidized in some way and one girl who works for Can- terbury House, which is owned and support- ed by the Episcopalian Church admits, "It would be very tough going for us if we were independent." Without subsidy, without a permanent lo- cation, the Alternative found it tough go- ing .Complying with health regulations alone would have cost the place another $1000. In spite of financial difficulties, the Al- ternative still had a fighting chance of sur- viving. It had arranged a loan from SGC, its net losses were declining and it appear- ed to be a going concern when it closed for "If we had done better, we would have gotten more help." ROSENBERG IS not sure. He b l a m e y Union manager Kuenzel and Vice Pre- sident Pierpont for smothering the pro- posal to move into the Union last spring: "It is naive to think the unfortunate cir- cumstances alone kept the Alternative out of the Union," Rosenberg claims. Frank Kuenzel does not deny charges of prejudice against the Alternative, b u t cites pragmatic reasons for the action. He argues the rent was too low and the food service problem too severe. "My philosophy," declares Kuenzel, "is that the managers of the Alternative could have made the Union Snack Bar into a coffee house or fixed it up in some way, instead of trying to set up an independent operation. "It should have been under Union man- agement, not run by an outside group." Wally Stromberg adds two reasons why the Union and' financial affairs office tried to keep the Alternative out. = First, t h e basement space in the Union can become a money making area and the Union board declined to give it up to thle Alternative. Second, the 'administration was afraid "un- desirable" types might be attracted to the Union during the night. Indeed, the invasion of high school "freaks" in August, came as a final coup to the ailing coffeehouse. "In the beginning, there was a good bal- ance," Rosenberg says. "But later it turned into a freak place, mostly high school freaks. "The atmosphere of the place was good at the start. But as the high school kids took over, the atmosphere became per- meated with airplane glue-literally and figuratively." BUT EVERYONE associated with the Al- ternative realizes the high school kids were hardly snakes in Eden. The Alterna- tive was driven out of the SAB because of shortsighted management and admin- istrative inaction. An audit has been conducted. and the Alternative has paid off part of its debts with proceeds from a benefit film show- ing. Student shareholders can expect to lose their $5 shares; Ross knows he will lose much more than that. Meanwhile, if you ask students whether they would like an alternative place to go 4 I -Daily-Richard Lee would have secured the Alternative a place there before the fall. Now he admits it was probably a mistake to expect this a n d a mistake to open in the summer when few people were around. "It was a question of momentum," argues Rosenberg. "Interest in the Alternative was at its peak in June. It would have died away by the time September came around." We couldn't wait for that. We would have had to start all over again. "Also since we were a pretty inexperienced outfit, we thought it would be a good thing to kind of ease into the business over the summer in the SAB," he says. JEANWHILE, the problem of where the Alternative could go from the SAB be- might have been a first step in that di- rection. In fact, after several months of negotia- tions, the Union board had agreed in March, 1969 to grant the Alternative several base- ment rooms for $200 per month. The Union management made it explicit, however, that the arrangement was temporary, pending resolution of the Union's problems with food service. Indeed the Union has compound problems of its own. For the 1967-68 fiscal year, says Frank Kuenzel, then manager of the Union, the Union food service had fallen into a $200,- 000 deficit. The loss was covered by the Un- ion's subsidy from the University and by the Union's reserves. Understandably hesitant to take on another failing organization, the U n i o n delayed the Alternative's move on the grounds that the food service problem must first be resolved. When it was determined in June that the University would continue to operate the food service, the Alternative had already settled in IHA headquarters. In August when the Alternative again petitioned for space, Wally Stromberg, head of the Union Space Allocation Committee said none was available. That was the end. ROSS IS philosophical about the Alter- native's failure. Although he admits, "It's true we didn't gain very much good will in the administration," he doesn't blame Kuenzel or Vice President and Chief Fin- 4