Author: Camille LeFevre

  • Cabin For the Uncommon Man

    "Log cabins are a dime a dozen,” said Richard Olson, lighting up yet another Marlboro. “We looked at some of those. They were junk. They were put together by amateurs. Some of the logs had separated; you could see right through them. All these trees here, tip some of them on the side, and you’ve got a log home … logs, logs, logs.” A suggestion is put forth: Is a log home in the woods, well, redundant? “Yeah,” he agreed, clanking his spoon around in his coffee cup, “something like that.”

    Richard was sitting with his wife Debbie on the patio of their cabin in the woods, a couple of miles from Ely. This is certainly no nostalgic log structure, but rather a striking example of modernist simplicity and Scandinavian restraint. It’s actually a one-level ensemble of buildings: a garage and a two-part cabin, composed of a square and a rectangular form, all dressed in a very un-cabin-like blue-black stain. Situated across the patio from one side of the living-room end of the cabin is a white brick “unchimney,” or flueless outdoor fireplace—a design signature of the home’s architect, David Salmela.

    When the Olsons bought the cabin, on a wintry St. Patrick’s Day six months ago, they had never heard of Salmela, despite his international reputation and local celebrity. They certainly would not have considered themselves design aficionados. Nor were they necessarily the kind of buyers that Salmela and developer Brad Holmes, from Gilbert, Minnesota, had in mind. (Holmes has built sixteen of Salmela’s residential designs over the years, including Ravenwood, photographer Jim Brandenburg’s compound at the edge of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.) Yet Richard and Debbie Olson’s immediate attraction to the cabin speaks to the broad appeal and understated artistry of this simple, small, and modestly priced project.

    The Fergus Falls couple discovered the cabin while searching the Internet for a vacation home; it was the first of five to be completed in a development owned and planned by Holmes. Richard Olson drove over, had a look, and purchased it immediately. “I didn’t analyze it when I bought it. I just liked it,” he said. “When you drive up to this place, it says, ‘I’m separate and distinct from the surroundings.’ I like that it’s different. It’s not something everyone has.”

    Lake access is not something every cabin has, but it’s an amenity many second homeowners in Minnesota automatically associate with “cabin.” The Olsons, however, prefer their wooded seclusion. “We can drive out of here in any direction and be on the water. There’s water all over here,” Richard pointed out. “But if you’re on the water, you’re next to someone. It’s like living in an apartment. There’s no privacy.”

    Unlike the other cabins he looked at, Richard continued, this one is “solid, well-built. You could tell that the minute you walked in. The place is super insulated, with all the latest technology. Everything is done correctly, the way houses used to be built.” He also enjoys the novelty factor of Salmela’s architecture. “Everybody that comes in here says, ‘Wow.’ An old guy picked up my lawn mower the other day and said, ‘I had no idea this was down here. What is this?’ I had to explain it all to him. He just shook his head. He’d never seen anything like it. That’s what I like about it.” Built in 1995, Ravenwood is a cluster of living, working, and studio structures, which Salmela designed to accommodate the needs and desires of Brandenburg, arguably the country’s foremost living nature photographer. In the book Salmela Architect, published earlier this year, author Thomas Fisher describes this six-thousand-plus square-foot complex as “an ancient Scandinavian village, forgotten deep in Minnesota’s northwoods, as if the past had taken a quantum leap forward into the present.” After building Ravenwood, Holmes was inspired to take a somewhat entrepreneurial approach to residential development. He wanted to undertake a project in the Ely area that involved smaller, year-round homes—homes that would be designed by Salmela without input (or interference) from clients.

    “I wanted to enjoy building something with just me and David,” said Holmes. “The way he uses light with all of the windows, you feel like you’re outside among all those beautiful trees when you’re inside. David knows how to do that in every project.” Holmes purchased a wooded property outside of Ely and divided it into five seven- to nine-acre lots. He then planned to build the cabins one by one, in his spare time. He asked Salmela to design a low-profile dwelling that “looks like it’s been there in the woods for a hundred years,” he said. “Everybody wants those huge log cabins. I told him, ‘Let’s try something different.’” Salmela agreed. The architect drew up the cabin design, which totals fewer than a thousand square feet, and in exchange, Holmes built wardrobes and cabinetry for Salmela’s own home that are similar to those in the Ely cabins. The Olsons bought the prototype cabin for $195,000; a month later, a younger couple bought the second for $185,000 (it’s the same plan as the first, but flipped, and it has no built-in furniture or exterior stain).

    With its lap siding and a wood truss projecting from beneath the slightly peaked metal roof, the Olsons’ cabin recalls houses lined up along a picturesque seacoast in Norwegian travel brochures. The trio of structures—the garage and the two cabin components—were all built using fourteen-foot trusses. The garage is large enough to accommodate racks of canoes or a sauna, while the main living/dining/kitchen space is a modest fourteen by twenty-four feet. A wood-plank walkway connects the garage to the living space. Visible outside the floor-to-ceiling windows is the patio, with its pergola and unchimney. The other “wing” of the cabin is situated off the kitchen, where a long corridor links a series of simple, square rooms—sleeping quarters, bathroom, and laundry room.

    This compound-like arrangement is found in much grander manifestations throughout Salmela’s work, from Ravenwood to the planned community of Jackson Meadow, outside Marine on St. Croix (which Salmela designed in collaboration with the Minneapolis landscape architecture firm Coen & Partners). In his book, Fisher describes the arrangement of homes, garages, fences, and walkways in Jackson Meadow as “recalling the small yards of historic towns”—an effect present in his Ely cabin design, albeit on a much smaller scale.

    The cabin has other Salmela markers, as well, such as a string of square windows marching along the exterior of a long, narrow form, which is also found in the Jackson Meadow homes, the Wild Rice Restaurant near Bayport, Wisconsin, and at the Jones Farmstead near Nerstrand. Another characteristic is the blurred distinction between inside and out. The feeling of being outdoors while inside the home is such that the Olsons can watch fires in the unchimney from inside the cabin, as well as from the patio.

    While Salmela’s work has a distinctly modern feel, it’s far too traditional, despite being occasionally whimsical, to fall into the modernist camp. “This is what I perceive modernism to be today,” said Salmela, sitting in the office he keeps in his 1920s home on a hill in Duluth, surrounded by awards, publications, models, and drawings. “It’s the warmth of things you’re familiar with, like forms and materials, and the planning and efficient way a structure goes together. It doesn’t have to look super modern, like the minimalist things done to prove they’re really modern. I’m trying to use common sense about how something goes together. These cabins are so easy to build, so simple when you look at them on paper, that you can’t perceive there’s anything really unique about them.”

    The architect tore a length of tracing paper from a roll and started sketching squares and rectangles. “See, it doesn’t look spectacular,” he said, “and the chimney isn’t very high.” At twelve feet, unchimneys at the Ely cabins are shorter than the monumental versions at the Wild Rice Restaurant or the Golob-Freeman cabin, also known as “Two Black Sheds,” on Madeline Island. “But when you start to build, this becomes quite dynamic.” The forms, windows, and walls are both functional and visual devices, he adds. The metal roof, wood siding, and outdoor fireplace recall the vernacular of the northwoods. Salmela alludes to his own heritage in suggesting that the cabin “looks like 1960s Finland. It’s really a very pure, straightforward, mid-modernist era structure, with no pretension.”

    For Salmela and Holmes, the cabin is also an experiment in creating ready-made architecture. All a buyer needs to bring are the essentials of daily living: bedding and towels, groceries, kitchenware, clothes, sports gear. Included with the cabins are appliances and cabinets, a built-in couch (whose angled cushions, when flipped, make a guest bed), a wood dining table (the Olsons bought their own chairs), slate floors, and built-in beds and wardrobes. “Traditionally, cabins are a lot of work,” Salmela said. “Here, everything is already done for you, and in a more sophisticated way.” Of course, there’s also the added cachet of purchasing a cabin designed by a noted architect, one whose star continues to rise, without paying an architectural fee.

    And the wooded, lakeless setting? “Canoers don’t need to be on a lake, because if you’ve got your canoe, you can go anywhere you want,” Holmes says. “We figured not being on a lake wouldn’t be a problem.” Buyers of the cabins, Holmes and Salmela concur, would get out their boats every day, venture to a different lake to paddle, then return home to read, relax, work, and have a fire. These expectations imply a certain type of buyer, as well. “The concept, from my standpoint as a designer, was to create an affordable, environmentally sensitive, development, with a simple, modernist set of structures that satisfy the needs of people living outside the area, within a natural setting of woods—versus being on a lake—that becomes a statement in itself,” said Salmela.

    However, the five-cabin development, as originally envisioned, may not become fully realized. A few months ago, a man from the Twin Cities called Holmes about purchasing one of the lots. “I told him I’m not selling, because I’m doing five cabins in there,” Holmes says. But the caller was persistent. “So I threw out a ridiculous price and he didn’t blink an eye. I didn’t know what to do. I guess in the long run, money talks.” The lot’s buyer hasn’t decided whether or not he’ll construct a Salmela cabin. “It’s the lot on the far end,” says Holmes, implying that he minimized the potential for the development’s disruption. “The other four are still grouped together.” Nevertheless, the sale threatens the pair’s architectural experiment.

    “It’s a neat idea,” Salmela said of the Ely cabin development, “but the odds of it succeeding are a long shot. It’s necessary to have a continuity to complete these things. If you break it, you can’t repair it. That’s the experiment. Brad knows he needs to keep an integrity to the project. But does he have the perseverance? If we can’t get beyond the two cabins, then we say the notion was good, but it was a concept that failed.”

    Then there are the Olsons, who don’t fit the yuppie environmentalist type of buyer that Salmela and Holmes had in mind. Richard is a gruff, gravel-voiced, chain-smoking retired business representative for the Machinists Union. Debbie works as a bookkeeper in a plumbing store. They don’t own a canoe or kayak. They’re not likely to bring laptops or copies of Dwell (which recently put a Salmela home on its cover) along on weekend visits. And in an artful pile of rocks behind the unchimney, Richard has “planted” bouquets of silk flowers, a decorative statement that Salmela calls a “major violation.”

    Richard was quick to justify his décor. “My wife hates them. But I’m colorblind, so to me it’s colorful.” Besides, he added, the floral facsimiles won’t be there forever. “We’ve got stuff planted,” he said with a huff and a sigh. It’s entirely possible that the fake flowers are a sign of Olson reveling in his own irreverence, making use of his relentlessly wicked sense of humor in a place he was immediately attracted to but had never imagined living in before—a place he now appreciates on a deeper level, especially after reading up on architecture (including Fisher’s book on Salmela) and spending the summer there.

    The Olsons clearly are enamored with their cabin, which is otherwise free of decoration inside and out. Debbie tells of waking up to deer peering through the floor-to-ceiling bedroom window and her delight in low kitchen cabinets that don’t intrude on outdoor views while preparing meals. They keep their eyes peeled for foxes and chipmunks. And they love firing up the unchimney; Richard especially enjoys the reactions from visitors who’ve never seen the cabin. “Strangers came in one day to buy something I was selling and thought the unchimney was a giant refrigerator!” he says. “People don’t believe it will work. But it does work. It works beautifully.”

  • Outside the Lines

    Last summer, the “Space T.U. Embrace” project performed for the first time at the Southern Theater in Minneapolis. Space to embrace? Space tee-you embrace? Why so cryptic? There was definitely buzz around Toni Pierce-Sands (“T”) and Uri Sands (“U”). They had launched their experimental project the year before, at the University of Minnesota, and the rumor was that the couple had created something unusual and captivating.

    That was immediately clear at the Southern, as the muscular Sands powered across the stage with weightless precision and god-like intention. He was a revelation, effortlessly sculpting space with an original blend of African and Indian, ballet and modern dance, symbolic and ritualistic moves.

    His perfect complement, Pierce-Sands was long, lean, and lithe as she gathered the space around her; then she turned loose-limbed goddess as she and Sands became the core of “Lady,” with the project’s entire cast—fifteen dancers of varying skin tones, ages, and sizes—engulfing them in a celebration of grace and generosity. Little question remained as to what space the dancers were embracing. This was a performance of uncommon openness, and the audience reciprocated with emotional enthusiasm.

    In the year since that performance, “T” and “U” have transformed their experiment into a proper dance company, complete with nonprofit status and new name, TU Dance, which debuts with a program of premieres this month (June 16-18 and 23-25 at the Southern Theater, 612-340-1725). Just as one of the Twin Cities’ most beloved companies, Jazzdance by Danny Buraczeski, was performing its final concerts and closing a remarkable fifteen-year chapter in local dance history, TU Dance was making a commitment to some kind of longevity. Coincidence? Perhaps. More likely the turn of events is a testament to the fertile ebb and flow of creativity in the local dance community.

    Still, it’s not every day that dance companies get founded here, and so the question remains: Why start a company? Why here, and why now? Sands and Pierce-Sands have enjoyed fruitful, high-profile careers as performers, in the U.S. and abroad. Sands’ choreography is in the repertories of numerous dance troupes. “We wanted to grow as artists and individuals, and to bring that growth into our community,” says Pierce-Sands of their decision. “The dance world has given us so much,” Sands adds; creating a company is a way for the pair to give back.

    But behind that contribution is a mission. “The Twin Cities is at a point where art isn’t reflecting the cultural richness that exists here,” Sands says. “So we decided to create a company that demonstrates that diversity, as well as the expertise of this area’s dancers. We think audiences, even people new to dance, will gravitate toward that.”

    The pair trace the origins of TU Dance back to Johnye Mae Pierce, who, according to her granddaughter, Pierce-Sands, was the first African-American woman to work in downtown St. Paul (she operated an elevator). Grandma Pierce’s support was unwavering as Toni grew up at Minnesota Dance Theatre, joined the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre in New York, moved to Paris to dance with Company Rick Odom, came back to St. Paul to have a son, returned to Ailey, and, eventually, began dating the company’s charismatic star, Uri Sands.

    “I met Uri twelve years ago in Philadelphia. He was dancing with Philadanco, and I was visiting a friend who was the rehearsal director,” recalls Pierce-Sands. “He was topless and wearing black spandex jazz pants,” she adds, laughing. “I honestly thought he was a little cocky at first.”

    Two years later, they met again at Ailey. “It took time for us to get to know each other, because we were both involved with other people at the time,” Pierce-Sands says. “Uri very much kept to himself and wrote a lot in his journals. He’s a thinker and that’s what attracted me to him.”

    The true test of their devotion came when Pierce-Sands returned to St. Paul to raise her son and be close to the rest of her family; she also had offers to join the faculties of the Minnesota Dance Theater school and the University of Minnesota dance program. Sands followed for two reasons: “Toni and walleye fishing,” he says. (An avid angler while growing up in Miami, Sands fishes Minnesota’s rivers and lakes, often with his stepson. Last year, his wife bought him a fishing boat for his birthday.)

    After briefly dancing with James Sewell Ballet, Sands became a Minnesota Dance Theater company member and resident choreographer. In 2002, he signed on as a dancer and choreographer with North Carolina Dance Theatre in Charlotte, where he’s been stationed about half of the year. “It’s a lucrative situation for me and my family,” he explains. But after a couple of years of watching the couple run hither and yon, Grandma Pierce sat them down. “She told us, ‘Why don’t you guys try to work for yourselves and make your own stuff look good, instead of making everybody else’s stuff look good?’” says Pierce-Sands. “That really inspired us.”

    The duo started off with research, assessing foundation support, opportunities for performances, and the variety of dance artists and companies already in the Twin Cities. “We were looking for something we could piggyback on, some way to enhance what the community had started,” says Pierce-Sands. While they’re hesitant to say they discovered an unfilled niche, the couple did find one characteristic troubling. “The Twin Cities has one of the most diverse communities I’ve ever seen,” Sands says, “but its audiences are segregated.”

    Audiences, he argues, are loyal to specific niches—ethnic, ballet, modern, improvisation, dance theater, or even ballroom—but they rarely cross into other disciplines. TU Dance aims to attract those various niches, in part by featuring dancers schooled in a variety of disciplines, who “reflect the cultural diversity here in the Twin Cities,” he says.

    ***

    Among the company’s eighteen members are guest artists from Complexions in New York City and Alonso King’s Lines Ballet in San Francisco—both of which have African-American artistic directors and repertories with work inspired by the African-American experience—and from North Carolina Dance Theatre. For local representation, TU’s founders cherry-picked from Twin Cities companies, including Venezuelan charmer Abdo Sayegh, a longtime company member of Minnesota Dance Theater; Stephanie Fellner, the petite powerhouse from Ballet of the Dolls; and Penelope Freeh and Peggy Seipp-Roy, who are dynamic regulars with James Sewell Ballet. The exquisite Mary Ann Bradley was a Jazzdance member, and also performs with the postmodern troupe ARENA Dances.

    In other words, TU Dance may aim to draw together and integrate audiences, but it will not sacrifice artistic excellence. “They [Toni and Uri] are driven to be an exemplar of high-quality dance performance,” says Jeff Bartlett, curator of programming at the Southern Theater. “Actually, they’re somewhat intolerant of a mindset that allows for anything less. For them, that’s not okay.”

    A third component of TU Dance’s strategy is accessibility. Pointing to the long-term success of their alma mater, Sands says that Alvin Ailey’s shows consistently sell out because the company’s works “speak to the human experience.” Similarly, the pieces he has choreographed for TU Dance “reference particular cultures, social situations, or life events. Accessibility comes through work that taps into the emotional, spiritual, and psychological aspects of our being.”

    Audiences may find other ways into TU Dance’s work, adds Pierce-Sands. “One of the lessons we learned at Ailey was that you could bring your father, who doesn’t know anything about dance, but he enjoys the music. That’s making dance accessible. We don’t have any expectations on how some
    one should look at dance. We just try to give audiences as many opportunities as possible to grasp something meaningful.”

    Sands and Pierce-Sands didn’t just look locally for dancers; teachers, choreographers, company managers, and presenters throughout the Twin Cities offered advice, especially on the mounds of paperwork necessary for incorporation and tax-exempt status. “As we launch this endeavor, one thing in particular we’ve found is that nothing in life is done on your own,” Sands says. “The dance community is helping us form this company.”

    The Southern’s Bartlett has been instrumental. “They have good heads on their shoulders,” he says of the couple, “and part of why they do is because of their experience outside this town, specifically in the Ailey company. A life in that company educates you about the reality of the dance world, it provides a lot of tools, and gives you a glimpse of what success looks like.”

    Danny Buraczeski also played a critical role. “He’s an incredible artist and mentor, whether through advice or example,” says Pierce-Sands. “Does his company folding make us apprehensive? No. Actually, we feel even more compelled to continue.” Her partner sounds equally determined. “The only way we know to start a dance company is like the only way we learned how to swim,” he says. “Just jump in the water.”

  • Fancy Foot Work

    They came out of nowhere. Or so it seemed to those of us who think we’re hip to the Twin Cities’ dance scene. They surfaced—or maybe the better word is “erupted”—last November at Choreographers’ Evening, Walker Art Center’s annual smorgasbord of classic, offbeat, up-and-coming, or just plain zany talent. Ten Foot Five caused a commotion even before their actual performance began, with five boys bursting through the back doors of the auditorium and lurching down the steps. Gathering onstage in their baggy low-slung pants, cowboy shirts, and multicolored tap shoes, with their long hair tucked under caps, they looked like a motley crew of…well, it was hard to say. All I remember next is the feeling of being hit with a testosterone tsunami: a wave of tap dancing and bucket drumming delivered with such raw energy that it made me absolutely giddy.

    These young men are part of the newest generation of performers that has been bringing tap into the mainstream, from Savion Glover’s paean to the old guys, to companies with an industrial edge like Tap Dogs, to percussive troupes like Joe Chvala and the Flying Foot Forum. But what Ten Foot Five was doing was less slick than Stomp, more visceral than Tap Dogs, narrative-free compared to the Flying Foot Forum, fresher than Savage Aural Hotbed, and grungier than David Van Tieghem. There was breathtaking footwork marked by speed, grace, and pile-driving force, right alongside frat-boy antics. They tore off their sweat-soaked shirts, dumped water over their heads, and splintered drumsticks before they snapped their performance shut with a communal shout: “Britney Tongued Madonna” (the title of their piece).

    The auditorium went wild. Young women jumped up and down. People walked out dazed and delirious. I asked a Walker staff person, “Who are these guys? Where did they come from?” He said, “I think they’re from some dance studio in Maplewood. They just showed up at auditions.” Whatever their origins, here was a group worth keeping tabs on, a refreshingly raucous addition to the dance community.

    Ten Foot Five surfaced again last June at Laurie Van Wieren’s monthly “Dance Lab” event at the Bryant-Lake Bowl. Van Wieren says she added “this tribe of guys with great energy” to her lineup “because they’re so much about the show, about interacting with the audience.” By this time, the troupe’s lineup included Kaleena Miller, a quiet woman and intense dancer who dropped the testosterone level several degrees. But the troupe’s irrepressible energy and exhilarating footwork were still out in force—as was the insouciant attitude.

    Van Wieren typically asks her performers to talk with the audience and answer questions after their show—one of those bonuses intended to give aficionados “insider” info and to demystify things for newcomers to the dance world. But the lanky, blond Ausland brothers—Rick and Andy, the core members—were clearly trying the patience of their host. Rick waved incense under his nose to bring himself “out of the zone.” Andy ignored Van Wieren’s entreaties to take the microphone, then used it to deliver a few brief words before bursting into mouth percussion. “I think they were a little uncomfortable talking about their work in a more serious way than they’re used to,” she said later.

    That onstage attitude, however, fused with the dancers’ full-bodied, even spiritual immersion in tap, is what makes their performances so galvanizing, without being slick. The Auslands may be young (Rick is twenty-six; Andy, twenty-three), and they may be unpolished newcomers to the concert-dance scene, but they’re players in this area’s small but vital tap community. Rick’s emails to Ten Foot Five fans, for instance, include notices about performances at Heartbeat Dance Studio in Apple Valley featuring Jeni LeGonow, the first black woman to sign a long-term contract with a major Hollywood studio; and Dianne “Lady Di” Walker, who appeared in the film Tap with the late Gregory Hines.

    The troupe has performed and taught at the St. Louis Tap Festival alongside such legends as Jimmy Slyde, and the Ausland brothers teach at local tap studios like Heartbeat and the Lundstrum Center for the Performing Arts in Minneapolis. A fourteen-year-old Rick also tapped during the Super Bowl XXVI halftime show in Minneapolis and danced in Crazy for You at the Chanhassen Dinner Theatres. Yet what the Auslands are mostly doing right now is drumming, on the streets of downtown Minneapolis, often near the Metrodome. “Keep your eyes and ears open,” one of their emails read. “There’s no tellin’ where they might pop up next!”

    The Fringe Festival was where they popped up next. A last-minute addition, their Buckets and Tap Shoes was selected Best of the Fringe (from nearly two hundred shows) and went on to play for three weeks at the Loring Playhouse after the Fringe Festival closed. The group—the Auslands, Miller, and original Ten Foot Fivers Ricci Milan and Nick Bowman—literally ripped up the floor (divots flew!) with propulsive tap rhythms and exuberant antics, when they weren’t hammering on paint buckets, cowbells, and metal cans. They also formed a funk quartet with Rick on drums, Andy on guitar, Jeremy Mundth on bass, and Dan Kusz on saxophone. The group suggested readings on its performance program that offered further clues to their passions and proclivities, ranging from the autobiographies of Malcolm X and Gandhi to Carlos Castaneda and John Robbins’ Diet for a New America; suggested listening included Parliament Funkadelic, Radiohead, and Stevie Wonder. Clearly, it was time to talk to these guys.

    Natives of south Minneapolis, the Auslands studied for more than a decade at Larkin Dance Studios in Maplewood. But they were already tapping and banging on buckets by age three. Their mom, Mary Chismar, was a dance teacher; their dad, Karl Ausland, drummed for twenty years with the White Sidewalls. “So we’ve been around dance and music since we were born,” Rick says. “It was just a normal thing to do tap, ballet, and jazz.”

    Ten Foot Five had its genesis in 1997 after Rick quit film school at Minneapolis Community Technical College. (“Dude, you can do this when you’re old,” he told himself one day.) He and Andy corralled friends they’d made during tap competitions around town. They choreographed a three-minute competitive dance number and did well. Commissions for longer shows followed, including some for corporate shindigs thrown by the likes of Target, Mall of America, Saturn, and Best Buy. After performing at the St. Louis Tap Festival in 1999, Ten Foot Five was invited to a similar festival in Finland and began traveling around the world; in recent years they’ve performed in cities as varied as Washington, D.C., Vienna, and Quito, Ecuador.

    Andy admits he can’t read music and maintained a low profile at South High. “No one knew I tapped in high school,” he says. “I kept to myself.” But he writes what he describes as the “skeleton of the show. I get all the main combos down, then everyone throws in ideas. So it ends up being something I never could have imagined.” The onstage pieces usually start out with Rick and Andy drumming on paint buckets. Jaw-dropping tap dancing follows. Then music-making, mixed with percussive dancing and drumming.

    “I think of a wave,” Andy says. “You want to start off pretty good, let the audience know that you’re here, and maybe take it down a little bit, then build it up and take it over at the end.” But at least one quarter of every work is improvisation. “While we’re doing a tap dance,” Rick explains, “there’s different things Andy’s calling out to signal us into other combinations. It’s different every night. Sort of a page out of the James Brown book.”

    Neither brother feels he is pushing tap in a new direction. “A lot of the things I’m doing have been done,” Rick says, crediting the likes of Walke
    r, Slyde, and Glover with bringing the general public’s attention to tap. And since Ten Foot Five grabbed the public’s attention with their ever-improving performances this year, some dance-community insiders are speculating on what they might be up to next. “There’s something raw about the boys, which we love, but I would like to see them come into their own dance vocabulary. That’s what the genre is about,” says Van Wieren.

    In fact, Rick will venture more boldly into the concert-dance world through a collaborative piece to be performed at “Flying Feats,” the concert series presented this month by Flying Foot Forum at the Southern Theater. FFF, says founder and artistic director Joe Chvala, is all about “encouraging people with percussive-dance technique to use it in a way that tells stories, creates characters, explores ideas,” an arena into which the Auslands haven’t yet ventured. Chvala teamed Rick with FFF veteran Joe Spencer and percussionist Peter O’Gorman from the “visual percussion” group Crash to collaborate on a new piece. “I wanted to put these three really different personalities together and see what they’d come up with.”

    Chvala, who has known the Auslands for more than a decade, says what Ten Foot Five is offering currently is “pretty fantastic. It’s a great style of tap that brings people together to feel a sense of joy and wonder. Anything that can do that is pretty valuable.” From Rick Ausland’s point of view, dancing and drumming is his best form of communication. “We’ve all said certain words, but to put them into a poem that you’ve written, it’s your expression, even though you didn’t make up any of the words. We have a gift of expression through rhythm. And in some deep-rooted sense, people understand what that language is.”

    Hence audiences’ extremely un-Minnesotan propensity to holler out during performances, leap to their feet, and bang on buckets that the Ten Foot Fivers pass out at the end of their show. “I appreciate that people dig it. That’s what allows us to keep doing it,” Rick says. “People talk about how they feel like they were taken away to some other place for an hour, they got away from whatever was on their mind that was bringing them down, and that’s pretty cool.”

    On the streets of Minneapolis, however, the Auslands sometimes encounter people who aren’t so appreciative of their drumming. “You get people who think you’re a dirty street rat, but that’s just the resistance and you’ve got to banish that,” Andy says. “We’re being of service. Because drumming has a provocative power. It gets inside your soul. It makes people dance from the inside out. It’s energy that, if you’re walking around stewing in your head, it snaps you out of it. It’s a transformation.”

  • Dance of the Berserkers

    Last spring, while driving down an Arizona highway searching for an alt-rock radio station, I heard a woman’s voice cry out across the airwaves, as if in primeval prayer. A guitar answered, then dropped into a thick growl of minor chords while the melody swelled with the lyrics, before the whole thing sank into the depths of a ten-ton unison riff. My god, I thought, does Arizona have a DJ who’s into Nordic roots music? No, the song was by Melissa auf der Mar, former bassist for Hole and Smashing Pumpkins. Which means that in my mid-forties I’m becoming a headbanger. Or is it metalhead? Anyway, I couldn’t be happier.

    My infatuation with loud, primal, dirge-like music started back in 1999 with Hedningarna, one of the first Swedish groups to fuse traditional Scandinavian tunes with rock as part of a movement throughout Scandinavia. Performing live in Minneapolis to a dance piece by local choreographer Joe Chvala, the band offered up an otherworldly mix of lush, heavy instrumentation and spectral melodies. The long notes of ancient instruments like the Hardanger fiddle, the hurdy-gurdy, and the Swedish bagpipes resonated at my core. And the singers, two Finnish women, were Valkyries, their clear voices slicing like shards of glass through the battle fray, lifting every note as if it were a dead warrior being spirited to Valhalla.

    This music was nothing less than transporting. It took me to some kind of preconscious state: a place of vocalization, not vocabulary, where emotion flashes raw and unadulterated by memory or sentiment, and where instinct isn’t an impulse but a mode of survival. The kind of world created by William T. Vollman in his mythical Viking travelogue, The Ice-Shirt, populated by marauders who revel in, then lose, their ability to don the bear serk (literally, a bear shirt or skin), which makes them invincible in battle. And that was just the music. Hedningarna’s lyrics relate medieval tales of warrior kings and defiant women, of curses and enchantments, loyalties and grudges, of unfettered sensuality; they conjure a time when the boundaries between human and animal could dissolve with results both terrifying and exhilarating.

    I had gone to see Chvala, one of my favorite choreographers, but in the process gained a new musical obsession. Chvala and Hedningarna were part of the first Nordic Roots Festival in 1999. Organized by NorthSide Records, a Minneapolis-based imprint that distributes Nordic roots music throughout the United States, the festival is now in its sixth year and runs September 17-19 at the Cedar Cultural Center in Minneapolis.

    Through the past five festivals, and at other concerts over the years, I’ve become part of a local community intent on exploring the spectrum of Nordic roots music, which has found a hardcore fan base here in the Twin Cities. Its sounds include the goddess-infused ethereality of Gjallarhorn, named for Heimdal’s horn, used to transmit messages between the gods and humans; the disquieting yoiking of Sami singer Wimme; and the Hendrix-like delirium of Hoven Droven (which translates as “helter skelter”).

    Garmarna, named for the dogs that guard the gates of Norse hell, is one group that consistently sells out here. The band’s work evokes a stark, terrifying beauty as electronic instrumentation whips primal grooves around singer Emma Härdelin. The feminine eye at the center of a testosterone storm, her voice pierces the music’s dirges of lamentation and grief, as riveting as her stage presence is calm. She brings to mind the Danish/Inuit title character of Peter Høeg’s novel Smilla’s Sense of Snow: She is urbane, intelligent, and self-possessed, yet governed by fierce aboriginal intuition.

    While those groups have been fixtures at previous festivals, this year two Swedish favorites are headlining: Väsen (an acoustic trio whose name means “essence” or “spirit”) and Harv (“to dig deep”). Väsen concerts are a religious experience, the group’s earthy melodies and supple rhythms conjuring an incomparably joyous heartache; the two young men in Harv play self-described “bad fiddles” and “Harv-ify” every traditional tune they encounter, turning the Swedish three-beat polska and its relative, the Norwegian pols, into music as jagged and stunning as lightning.

    How is it that a half-Scandinavian woman raised on Baroque music and the Bee Gees can listen to Garmarna’s Vengeance or the compilation CD Wizard Women of the North and feel a visceral connection to the soundtrack of her inner life? A couple of people in town have some pretty good ideas about that. “Nordic roots music just has this resonance,” says Bill Snyder, a critic who writes about Nordic music for such publications as Sing Out. “People say they feel like they have this music in their bones, or that they’ve always known it, or that it’s immediately familiar to them.”

    It’s possible that the music’s mythic and medieval qualities—in lyrics, tunes, and instruments—contribute to that feeling. “Most of it has ancient roots in some way or another, even the modern compositions,” Snyder says. “If you believe in a collective unconscious, or that there are certain things in ritual that become part of humanity, then it makes sense that a lot of people have this visceral experience with the music.”

    Snyder’s referring to archetypes: the rhythms, symbols, characters and stories that Carl Jung and mythologist Joseph Campbell employed to explain ancient patterns of experience that constitute our shared human heritage. “People dying from broken hearts. Murders. Folk music themes, whether they’re Celtic, Nordic, or Anglo-American, are very basic,” Snyder says. “It’s pretty bloody, often not happy. It’s about survival under harsh conditions. The specifics are dated, but these themes speak to a human condition—needs, desires, love—that hasn’t changed for thousands of years.”

    Then there are the instruments used by Nordic roots groups—hurdy gurdy, nyckelharpa, Hardanger fiddle, Swedish bagpipes, and even the didgeridoo from Gjallarhorn’s ensemble—that strike a chord within the human psyche. “All of these are drone instruments, which create single notes that are omnipresent,” says Rob Simonds, who founded and runs the NorthSide label. Take the Hardanger fiddle and nyckelharpa. “They have strings that only exist to resonate. You don’t bow them, but they produce a subtle noise with an eerie quality, a natural reverb. Basically the resonance creates the ever-present drone of harmonics.”

    So are those drones like the hum of a tuning fork pitched to the thrumming strands of our DNA? “Now we’re getting into an area in which I don’t have any expertise,” Simonds says, laughing. “But there’s a whole field of study called psychoacoustics that focuses on how people are affected by different harmonic structures and keys.” Aha. Maybe that’s the key to our insatiable appetite for Harv’s “bad fiddling.” Right, Simonds explains: “Bad fiddling refers to melodies and harmonic structure. Harv likes to play these ‘blue notes’ that are quarter tones—not what we’re used to in mainstream Western music. And, well, it does weird stuff to you.”

    For another example, there’s the ever-present, polyrhythmic polska, the basis for a lot of Nordic roots music. This traditional dance is similar to a polka in that it has three beats, but as Simonds tells it, the polska’s rhythm more closely echoes the human heartbeat—and depending on which part of Sweden the musicians hail from, the first beat might be quick or long, with lots of “messing around with the space between the beats.”

    As if medieval lyrics, harmonic drone, and polyrhythmic intensity aren’t enough, those groups with female singers often add to the mix Swedish kulning—the impossibly high-pitched calf-calling that causes the hair on the back of your neck to rise. On top of that, electric instrumentation and a dose of American influence also play roles in creating the Nordic roots sound. For instance, Simonds describes Stefan Brisland-Ferner, who does most of the arranging and composition for Garmarna (scheduled to play the Cedar in fall 2005), as a “studio geek” who grew up listening to Kraftwerk and David Bowie. Kjell-Erick Eriksson, Hoven Droven’s lead fiddler, is a well-known folk musician who, “when growing up, had a poster of some old Swedish fiddle player on one wall, and on the other, AC/DC and Kiss,” claims Simonds. Hedningarna (“heathens”) is among the oldest of the Nordic roots bands. The movement’s genesis lies within the folk revival of the late 1960s and seventies that started in America and then swept the world—an influence that’s reflected in much of the Nordic region’s lush, shamanistic, hard-rock approach to traditional music.

    Both Simonds and Snyder emphasize that Nordic roots musicians consider themselves folk musicians, whether they’re playing new or ancient tunes, whether their sound is electronic or acoustic. “They think of themselves as doing the same thing folk artists have always done: taking the indigenous music of their country and imprinting it with their own personal slant,” Simonds says.

    At a Nordic roots concert, age, race, social status, and cultural background are irrelevant. During a Garmarna concert once, I talked to two preteen boys from Duluth who eagerly explained that they discovered the music through their parents. I’ve chatted with an out-of-town grandmother cruising last year’s festival with her adult daughter. And there’s the night I found myself dancing between two unlikely partners—a leather-clad biker with a shaved head and piercings, and a punked-out kid in a black T-shirt and jeans. The three of us thrashed together, turning toward each other to howl with the delirious invincibility of berserkers.

    If there’s a wild side at these concerts, there’s also nothing dangerous. The audience is unfailingly a peaceable group, assembled to revel in the music. “These bands have a remarkable way of bringing very diverse people together. This isn’t lost on these musicians,” Snyder says. It is, of course, not just the music, but the musicians themselves—unpretentious, devoid of ego, and downright fun—that inspire the outpouring of emotion and camaraderie during their live performances.

    “It’s part of the Scandinavian cultural ethic that there’s just not much ego involved,” says Simonds. “The musicians really don’t think of putting themselves first as a general rule, they think of the group first. When these bands perform, it’s an ensemble psychology.” Conversely, he adds, “the audience is so tuned in and so with the musicians every step of the way, you feel as if there’s no wall at all.”

    In other words, magic happens. The music is the portal through which to enter blood memory and swim back to ancient, raw, and irrefutable truths that lie far beyond our highly mediated, aggressively processed culture. It’s the incantation by which we put on our bear serks and for a couple of soul-satisfying, sweat-drenched hours, shapeshift into a community of dancing warriors at one with each other and the music.

    Camille LeFevre is a St. Paul writer.