Tractors and Tribulations

Old-timers hard at work

Ostrobothnia is Finland's breadbasket.

The "Näpparit" group of young fiddlers tunes up for their concert.

During "Folkskandia" week, folk musicians came from
Norway, Sweden, and Denmark
to teach workshops and perform in area schools.
Here, Geir Eigil Larsen demonstrates Norwegian herding instruments.

LynnAnne returns from a training ride / shopping trip
to Southern Ostrobothnia.
She found the people in the neighboring province reasonably friendly,
despite their reputation.
She has been riding her bike quite a bit now that it is only dark for a few hours.
This photo was taken about 9:30 in the evening;
the sun goes down around 11pm.

Bike Pictures

I bought this twenty year-old Italian road bike in December.
Here it is under a bridge in Kokkola.
The saying in French means something like:
"One is not born a woman; one becomes one."
Or: "Women aren't born; they become."

This is a familiar sight for Ely people: late season snow.
We had it here too, but with 16 - 20 hours of daylight,
it would be difficult for anything to accumulate.

It is easy and free to take bikes on the Helsinki metro,
and is allowed during non-rush hour times.

We rode our bikes one day on a "tour des museums"
in Central Ostrobothnia.
The meteorite museum in Lappajärvi shows how the very deep lake
was formed by the impact of a meteorite 73million years ago.
Here is the ski factory museum in Vimpeli;
the same complex also has a museum dedicated to Finnish baseball, "pesäpallo."

My road bike got a flat tire, so I rode my one-speed trusty rusty bike
for three days while I learned how to repair a sew-up tire.

We actually do go to class sometimes!

Our World Music class this semester includes a presentation by each student about a topic of choice. Here, Eli discusses the details of Tuvan throat singing. LynnAnne presented the polyphonic vocal music of Corsica, a type of singing related to Gregorian chant that has been preserved on this isolated mountainous island.

"Close your eyes and open your mouth!"

Some people appeared in some quite unusual costumes for dart-skiing. Maybe they wanted to conceal their identity?

Then there were the more-or-less normal people.

Everyone threw darts at the same board.

Greetings from Finland!
Judging from the feedback from the last Finmail about sledding, way too many of you out there think that our lives are all fun and play. Actually, a lot of the time it is just play, and play, and play. We actually do have academic class obligations, but up until now we figured that other non-academic aspects of our experience would generally be more interesting. So now you're in for it: we're going to tell you about music theory. Run...hide:) Additionally, we will lighten the message by sharing some of our unusual extracurricular experiences related to Easter.

We have had music theory class almost every school-week since we started in September. The idea of music theory for many people seems very theoretical and mysterious. But here, when applied to folk music, it seems much more accessible. One of the main topics is what musicians commonly call "church" modes. The easiest way to think about modes is to think of the white keys on the piano. In a "normal" C-scale, you play the white keys, starting on C. The modal scales use the same white keys, but the scale starts on a different note. For example, if you start on "D" and play a scale on the white keys, you play a Dorian scale. The Dorian mode is the most common mode in Nordic folk music; Scarborough Fair (though not nordic), is a relatively popular example of a tune in the Dorian mode. The "feel" of this mode could be described as "melancholy, but with a silver lining." This might explain why the Dorian mode is so popular in Scandinavia, where people annually experience pronounced periods of both darkness and light. The other modes used in folk music are Phrygian (starting on E), Lydian (starting on F), Mixolydian (starting on G), and Aeolian or natural minor (starting on A). We have also learned about some special minor scales: harmonic minor, melodic minor, and gypsy minor.

There is an individual mode corresponding to each of the seven individual white keys (CDEFGAB). Some of them basically sound major and some minor. In regards to composing and arranging music, the use of modes opens up a relatively alternative, yet systematic way of constructing both melody and harmony. For those who have previous theory training, the modal harmonic alternatives mainly involve "dominant" chord alternatives (minor "V" or replacing an inherently diminished "V" with major "VII") and "dominant preparation" chord alternatives (unconventional dominant preparation progressions). We find the modal fiddle tunes of western Swedish-speaking Finland to be particuarly interesting, as they often cleverly blend two to three different modes into one tune. One particularly gifted late 19th-century Finnish-Swedish composer of fiddle tunes was Johan Taklax.

Our other classes are: Finnish Folk Music History, Modern Finnish Folk Music, World Music, Folk Singing, Folk Dance, Kantele History, Improvisation, Studio Equipment and Recording, and Work Life for the Musician. Each student also has a private lesson each week (Eli on violin and LynnAnne on kantele this semester). One characteristic of Finnish folk music today is that musicians draw inspiration from many sources, not exclusively Finnish ones. The material many of our classes (folk song and folk dance especially) includes music from other Finno-Ugric areas such as Estonia and Hungary, and other Nordic countries, mainly Sweden and Norway.

All that studying makes us hungry! When last we wrote, we were enjoying the sweet buns called laskiaispulla. A different food is eaten in Finland during Lent, and we have to say it is not nearly so tasty, but oh, so Finnish. Before Easter, our classmates were very eager to have us taste mämmi. "It's very traditional," they told us. "You should try it," they insisted. Curiosity got the better of our suspicions, and we agreed to meet our classmate Maarit at her place for mämmi tasting. Mämmi is made out of rye meal that is fermented with malt and baked. In traditional times, it was valued as a very nutritious food eaten during Lent (when animal products were forbidden). Mämmi takes little effort to prepare, so it was also commonly eaten on Good Friday when no cooking was to be done. Maarit took a rectangular box from her refrigerator. When she opened it, we got our first glimpse of the dark brown, nearly black, paste. Mämmi is about the consistency of chunky peanut butter, and Maarit, with a certain sadistic flourish, used a spoon to transfer the dark fiber to our bowls. "Mmm, this will be good," she assured us. She also offered us cream and sugar, which is how mämmi is usually eaten in Finland today. In the several days following our first taste of mämmi, a quick poll among our circle of friends and acquaintances in Finland revealed that most of them like mämmi, and most of them agree that it is probably an acquired taste. Oh, and we did like mämmi enough to get our own, and we definitely value its taste as a part of our cultural experience. We put lingonberries in the mixture, much to the horror of those Finns we told about it. We still don't know why this was objectionable -- it made the dish quite palatable. Has anyone heard of this food before? If anyone wants to know more, Wikipedia comes through again with some interesting historical details: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M%C3%A4mmi

One chef in the Helsinki area has collected about 50 recipes featuring mämmi, many of his own invention. Tunisian-born Ahmed Ladarsi, former chef at the Italian embassy in Helsinki, founded the Finnish Mämmi Society a few years ago. His book, titled appropriately, Mämmi, was published in February of this year (in Finnish). How about mämmi pizza, anyone?

We have been doing more than eating and studying. On the day before Easter, we participated in a traditional local fest. "Tikkahiihta" translates to something like "dart-ski." We had heard about dart-skiing from our teacher, who conveniently went out of town for the weekend. The event is a competition, but it is not a test of speed, and not really of skill. The dart-ski course consists of a 1.5km groomed ski loop and a dart board. Each participant skis the loop and then throws 5 darts at the board, completing the cycle three times. An alternative walking loop is available for those who don't prefer to ski. Competitors start individually, at 30-second intervals. Before the start, each competitor has to declare how many minutes it will take him to complete the event. (One's estimate should allow time to spend in line to throw darts.) Timepieces are not allowed. The person who finishes closest to his or her declared time is the winner (a good dart score can be used as a tie-breaker, or a deciding factor if two individuals have the same timing). All the other prizes are awarded as door prizes (by lottery). This annual event is organized by the local "Pelimanni" restaurant / bar, and at 1:30 in the afternoon, we were in the minority because we hadn't yet had a sip of alcohol. We were actually casually admonished for not "doping" sufficiently when we first arrived. A few of the participants fell down before they had skied 100 yards. Several participants came clad in costume, and it seemed like a lot of local residents save their oldest, rattiest pair of skis just for this event every year. Before the event we saw one competitor smoking and waxing his skis by dripping candle wax on them from a lit candle. Then he used a caulk gun and smeared them with a bead of silicone. (Don't get any ideas, Wintergreen people!) The authorities turn a blind eye to this fairly harmless revelry, and we thought it was great fun. LynnAnne finished 4 minutes slower than she said she would, and Eli turned in a stellar performance, only 35 seconds off of his stated time of 50 minutes. We spent the rest of the afternoon socializing with the sound engineer we will work with during a recording session in a few weeks.

We hope each of you had a restful Easter holiday. Now we have to get back to composing a schottische in the Phrygian mode!

Take care and have fun!
LynnAnne and Eli

Laskiainen and recent gigs

Helena, Eli, and LynnAnne

Eli, LynnAnne, Helena, and Saija sing a Norwegian song during a performance on the all-folk-music "Folklandia" cruise between Finland and Sweden

Now the sun comes up at 8:45am instead of ten o'clock.

Greetings from Finland!

We hope that this message finds you all well. We heard that you got no surprises on Groundhog's day. Finns also mark this time of year in some unique ways. We would also like to tell you about the highlights of some recent performances.

As we were consulting our crispy-fresh 2008 bought-in-Finland calendars, we noticed "Shrove Tuesday" on the calendar for this week. After some figuring, we guessed that this day is the equivalent of Mardi Gras. Lent, the season of fasting before Easter, has occasioned various pre-fast excesses in different parts of the Christian world. In some countries, the festivities are called "carnival" which means something like "good-bye to meat." Traditionally during Lent, animal products like butter, milk, and eggs were not to be eaten. So, if you weren't allowed to keep these items in your house, would you throw them out? No! Party!!! Many traditional pre-fast foods use large proportions of these items. The traditional Shrove Tuesday meal, for example, is pancakes. In Finland at this time of the year, people celebrate "Laskiainen" by eating a certain excessively-delicious pastry and sledding excessively.

A "laskiaispulla" is a softball-sized sweet cardamom roll with the top cut off (think - like a pumpkin), and filled with either almond paste (common in Sweden) or raspberry jam (more common here), and a large dollop of whipped cream. Then the top goes back on, and the whole works gets dusted with powdered sugar and drowned in warm milk. We are getting fat on our own homemade ones today. (Well actually Eli is as skinny as usual, and LynnAnne looks forward to the excuse to ride her bike more.) Here is more interesting information about them, including a recipe:
http://www.axis-of-aevil.net/archives/2006/02/laskiaispulla.html

Has anyone heard of the annual Laskiainen sledding festival held in Palo, MN? We didn't realize until now that the sledding festival is part of the pre-lenten festivities in Finland. So after they eat fattening pastries, Finns assuage their guilt by burning off the calories while sledding. Maybe sliding down a hill was the most festive thing that Finns of old could think of. Or maybe they thought it was "all downhill from here" until Easter. A sauna must be involved somehow. Finns take their sledding very seriously, as the photos on this website attest: http://www.2camels.com/photos/laskiainen.php Our class is planning our own sledding outing on Wednesday.

Finns go sledding on plastic disks for fun, but they use a different type of sled to get around town. We have noticed a recent proliferation of kick sleds ("potkukelkka"). On a typical jaunt around town, we might see one outside the library, two outside the grocery store, and three rosy-cheeked ladies happily kicking along the bike path. Finns take this type of transportation seriously; when people kick along the secondary roads like the one outside our house, they always go on the left side of the street, like a pedestrian. The roads have a nice hard-packed icy surface since the secondary roads are not sanded or salted. Most of the snowplows in this area are farm tractors with snowplow attachments. Drivers usually drive cautiously so as not to skid or hit any kick-sledders. It is not surprising that many people have stored their bikes for the winter and gotten out the kick sleds. In fact, Finns like their kick sleds so much that during the snow-free part of the year, some ladies go to the grocery store on a four-wheeled version. If you want to know more about kick sleds, here is a link:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kicksled

The most kick sleds we have seen in one place was outside the "Pelimanni" restaurant / bar after our gig there last week. When we got there (early for our performance), one bike and two kick sleds were parked outside. When we left, only two more bicycles had joined the original one, but at least eight kick sleds were lined up in a neat row right outside the door.

So our bar gig went well. For a typical gig, the two of us, our two classmates, and our teacher perform all together or in different configurations for different songs. In addition to playing Finnish fiddle music, we also sing ancient Finnish poetry in song form, often to the accompaniment of the kantele or jouhikko. All of us take turns playing the stand-up bass. Some of our repertoire comes from Sweden and Norway, and LynnAnne has been learning to make and play the overtone flute which has a long Norwegian tradition. One of the people in the audience at the bar was Pehr Henrik Nordgren, a well-known Finnish composer who has lived in Kaustinen for many years and has found inspiration from the region's folk music. He was particularly intrigued with the nyckelharpa since he had never seen one up close, and he and LynnAnne looked at it and talked (Swedish -- his first language) after the concert. Eli was invited to play as a special surprise guest during a concert on Saturday. Eli has learned to replicate the local style so well that people are often surprised and amused to learn that Eli is not from here after hearing him play.

In addition to performing at the bar and in several school concerts, we have also attended several concerts this past week during Kaustinen's 30th annual Chamber Music Festival. The Festival organizers, wisely suspecting our need to spend money cautiously, encouraged our class to participate by acting as ushers for concerts held in the Folk Arts Center. Several of the concerts featured string or woodwind quartets. We also enjoyed hearing the Central Ostrobothnia Chamber Orchestra. We had already seen them once in concert. An enormous dynamic range of expression, superb intonation, and meticulous ensemble sensitivity are but a few of their qualities that we appreciate. On Sunday, Finland's "Meta-4" string quartet performed works by Alban Berg, Haydn, and Grieg.

By far our favorite performance of the week included more than music. A dance company from Helsinki produced "Suur Perhe," ("Big Family"). The performance featured a mix of theatre, dance, and circus with a message. Inspired by the works of renowned Finnish artist, Outi Heiskanen, the production emphasized the connections between people all over the globe and the human connection to the natural world. Many of the artist's works are dream-inspired. We found the message to be very timely and down-to-earth, and the dance company brought the message to life in a way that compliments the visual art. We were also happy to note that no Finnish was spoken on stage (aside from some babble from the monkey at one point), so we could understand just as much as the rest of the audience. At one point, the bear sidled up to the three musicians and started playing the violin. That got us thinking..... maybe...... not. We have been humbled by the world-class level of talent circulating here this week, and we are also grateful for the inclusion of many forms of musical expression.

We are also enjoying the return of light to Finland -- now we have daylight about like in Minnesota during December. Finns have a rhyme that goes with this time of year. It starts: "Aurinko, aurinko lettuja paistaa, hauska on auringon lettuja maistaa..." We don't understand all of the words, but we think there is a connection between the sun (aurinko) and pancakes (lettuja) beacuse the Finnish verb "paistaa" means both "shine" and "fry."

Happy Shrove Tuesday and don't eat too many pancakes.
Eli and LynnAnne

Rossin Bike

Here is a bike I found in Kokkola (actually Eli found it). It's an Italian entry-level racing bike from about 1989. It seemed to be in good shape for how old it is. I plan to ride it a lot as soon as the snow melts, and possibly do a tour after school ends. If I can get it home, my mother will ride it since the frame is a little too small for me.

How we spent our Christmas vacation

The joulupukki goes to great lengths to make sure he visits every apartment in Helsinki.

Raili was a professional caterer for 30 years. Can you tell?
Is that lutefisk I see on the table?

This church is a familiar sight to many Helsinki tourists, the underground stone church.
Here it is during the Christmas peace.

One of Ritva's hobbies is making dolls and doll clothes. She recently had an exhibition of her work at the local library. Here are two of her handmade treasures.

Eli played to a "packed house" of Risto and Ritva's friends two nights in a row at New Year's.

Greetings from Finland!

We hope that the content of this Finmail will be more worthwhile reading than its title suggests. We have been busy preparing for our performances on a cruise called Folklandia (more about that in a later issue), so it has taken us until now to record some of our observations about the Finnish holiday season. We hope that you will enjoy reading about Christmas and New Year's in Finland even though most of us have taken our trees down. A warning to the hurried: despite our best intentions, this Finmail got a little longer than we originally intended.

A few weeks before Christmas, the folk music students from the Kokkola Conservatory invited us to join them for their Christmas party ("Pikkujoulu"). The early part of the party included everyone singing Christmas carols together. (Later, the party got wild with crazy Finnish folk music students having an air-accordion-playing contest and playing other games.) In every culture where Christmas is celebrated, the "famous" Christmas carols are sung in the local language, in translation from Latin, French, and German. Finns also have "indigenous" Christmas songs with both melody and text written by Finns. Many of these songs are in a minor key, so although they sound quite sad, the songs express the joy and peace that is Christmas in a way that only Finns could do. Some of our favorites are "En Etsi Valtaa Loistoa," " Varpunen Jouluuamuna," and "Kun Joulu On." (English translation of "En Etsi Valtaa Loistoa" here: http://www.cpdl.org/wiki/index.php/En_etsi_valtaa,_loistoa_(Jean_Sibelius) Tarja Turunen (the former lead singer of popular Finnish heavy metal band "Nightwish") can be heard singing these and other Christmas songs on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KqFIFkZ-60o We watched her in concert (on TV) on Christmas Eve. She seems very charming on stage and it is hard to imagine a heavy metal band behind her.

We are honored and pleased to say that we experienced a traditional Finnish Christmas with Eli's great uncle and aunt, Tero and Raili, in Espoo, a large city immediately neighboring Helsinki. Finns share a strong collective understanding of how Christmas "should" be celebrated. At noon on Christmas Eve day, the Finnish Christmas Peace (joulurauha) is declared in Turku. This Wikipedia article has some other interesting tidbits about the Christmas Peace: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_Eve#Finland Sometime on Christmas Eve day, Finns go to the cemetery where their relatives are buried. They light large candles and place them in lanterns at the grave, and wish their deceased family members a Merry Christmas. On our drive to the Espoo cemetery with Tero and Raili, Tero pointed out smoke coming from little shacks in several yards -- even in the big city, many Finns have wood-burning saunas.

When we got to the cemetery, it was difficult to find a parking place. Even though a lot of people were in the cemetery, it was quiet. The sky was just starting to get dark (about 2:30). People moved reverently, and the whole scene was very beautiful, with one or several candles lit at every stone. We walked to Tero's sister's husband's parents and lit candles for them, and then to another part of the cemetery where we lit candles for Tero's parents and Raili's parents. In front of the stone church (Finland's oldest), hundreds of candles were lit by people in honor of relatives who were buried elsewhere or by people who didn't know where their relatives were buried. Two soldiers solemnly guarded the memorial for the unknown soldier, and many candles were lit there to honor fallen Finnish soldiers. It was nearly dark when we left, but the cemetery was lit by thousands of candles. If we had had the camera with us, we would have taken a picture, so we hope that you can imagine this beautiful and peaceful Finnish Christmas Eve scene. (This tradition is also practiced in many communites northern Minnesota where Finns settled.)

For many people, Christmas would not be complete without sharing good food with relatives. Raili is an amazing cook, and we watched her with interest as she prepared Christmas pastries and homemade Karjalan piirakka (a Finnish torte with rice in the middle). We asked at every meal if we could help, but she usually refused. (We helped with the dishes.) The traditional Christmas breakfast is rice pudding, and Raili served large portions, much to Eli's delight. A ham is the traditional Christmas meat, and Raili started working on it a day in advance. When we first saw it, it still looked like a pig: there was no head, but the snout was obvious. Other traditional Finnish Christmas dishes include rutabaga hot dish, liver hot dish, carrot hot dish, and potato hot dish. (Honest, we swear! Everyone we know in Finland ate the same thing!) The Finnish word for "hot dish" (that's "casserole" for those of you that don't speak Minnesotan) is "laatikko," which means "box." Raili had also prepared the traditional herring, smoked salmon, lutefisk, and a cold red beet and pickle salad that had whipped cream on the side. Another traditional appetizer is cold salmon caviar in a cream sauce with onions -- mmm! We neglected to take a picture on the big day, but one of the pictures in the blog http://finmail.blogspot.com/ shows the leftover spread the day after Christmas.

Between December 27 - 30, we went to a folk music and dance workshop in central Finland. But we are trying to keep the Finmails from getting too long, and we can see that this one is threatening to get out of control. So we will tell you about our workshop at a later time and skip straight to New Year's.

We spent the New Year's holiday at the home of Eli's "aunt-in-law" Ritva and her husband Risto's home in Espoo. Ritva and Risto were delighted that Eli entertained dinner guests two nights in a row, playing Finnish and American fiddle music. After a lovely leisurely meal on New Year's Eve, we joined Risto and Ritva and their friends for a walk in their neighborhood. Finns (and many people elsewhere in the world) celebrate New Year's Eve by lighting fireworks. At first, the sights and sounds of the fireworks were like an ordinary neighborhood on the Fourth of July. But on the unspoken cue of five minutes before midnight, the firework activity multiplied exponentially. From where we were standing, we could see fireworks being set off by about fifty parties in the field next to an apartment complex. Behind us, we could hear the explosions and see the smoke from another neighborhood. The experience might be described as being in the middle of a non-combative celebratory war-zone. We did not see any "professional" fireworks, but individual efforts definitely made up for this. Whoever sells fireworks in Finland is probably now staying at the most exclusive hotel in the Virgin Islands and sipping a margarita on the beach.

Ritva deserves special mention for her practice of the rare art of creating historical period-accurate dolls and dollhouses from scratch. . .and we mean from SCRATCH! Check out the awesome doll photo on the blog. She makes the doll body parts from porcelain, fires them at high temperature and carefully hand-paints them. Then she sews dizzyingly ornate clothing, all of which is done in the style of a particular historical period. Thus, a completed doll exemplifies the graceful touch of an artist coupled with the attention of a scholar. And don't even get us started about the dollhouse: it is approximately four feet in height and width, two feet deep and, yes, she painstakingly creates everything by hand. It's like she's a carpenter, an electrician (yes, its wired), a furniture manufacturer, an interior designer, a feng shui practitioner and a historian all wrapped up into one. Since retiring from her banking career she views this as hobby, but we think she should have her own museum.

Among other wonderful things about our holiday season in Espoo was the opportuntity to speak and learn a lot of Finnish. For us, it was like an intensive conversational Finnish crash-course. In our classroom, we can resort to English if needed, so it was refreshing and challenging to get away from English for awhile. Thankfully, all of our hosts were unwaveringly patient, as speaking Finnish with us is more or less like speaking with a five-year-old and a three year-old. One of the first words we learned was "talvipäiväseisaus," (winter solstice), which translates something like "winter day ceasing." So we, like you, are celebrating the return of light to the Northern Hemisphere. Although we gain just one minute of daylight per day, we are sure that it won't be long before the sun plagues us with round-the-clock light.

Take care and have fun!
Eli & LynnAnne

Low angle light and other celestial phenomena, including the stars at the President's castle

Moonset over our neighboorhood, about 10am 11/24/2007

In the middle of the day on the ski trail, the sun hits the treetops,...

...filters down through the forest...

...and some sunlight even reaches the forest floor.

One quarry outside of Kaustinen is locally known for this rock formation which contains a lot of mica. Some local people value this rock for use in fireplace mantlepieces and other decorative masonry. Here, the low sun reflects off of the mica flakes in the rock.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Years to all,

Last week Finland celebrated her 90th birthday. Until December 6th, 1917, Finland was a Duchy of the Russian empire. You can read all about it on the following link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finnish_Independence_Day. Veterans of Finland's "Winter War" were particularly honored, as most of them have now reached a fragile age. Very few of these veterans will still be around for Finland's 100th. The city of Kaustinen organized a special candle-light vigil for all veterans, alive and deceased. Finns very solemnly and respectfully honor this day.

On the evening of Finland's Independence Day (called itsenäisyyspäivä), some friends invited us to join them for viewing the nationally televised Independence Day celebration at the President's castle in Helsinki. (Nearly all of Finland watches this spectacle.) President Tarja Halonen and her husband shook hands individually with what seemed like an endless stream of invited dignitaries and Finnish icons of various disciplines. When they had greeted what seemed like 2,000 guests, our friends said that there was another door where the diplomats come in. So there was more hand-shaking and slinky gowns and tuxes. Despite the seriousness of the occasion, the Finnish tabloids (yes, Finns have them too) directed their lidless eyes at some of the more popular and/or controversial characters present at the occasion, inspecting and analyzing with arcane gossiping efficacy every outfit, word, gesture and contextual significance. Perhaps American popular culture has had an influence here.

Eli says: We did have quite a bit of fluffy snow here, but it all melted in last week's rain. One of the first words we learned when we arrived in Finland was "kasvihuoneilmiö," (greenhouse effect). Most people here acknowledge global climate change unhappily. Last year, for example, Kaustinen had its first "black" Christmas, with virtually no snow. I cannot complain too much, being aware of the numerous extreme climate conditions throughout the world. For the sake of the local economy, however, I hope for abudant snow and below-freezing temperatures soon.

Music studies are progressing. I asked my teacher, Risto Hotakainen, how many tunes he actually knows by heart and he figured in the thousands. I believe it. There is a saying here in regards to fiddling, that it comes "aidin maidossa," or in the the mother's milk. I guess over the centuries a definite collective consciuosness has been nurtured and continues to manifest through many talented young players whom I have seen perform over the past months.

LynnAnne says:
I promise that I will never complain about the darkness in December in Minnesota again!

Right after I sent the last email, it rained for two days and all the snow melted. The bike paths were quite muddy. It was so dark that the daylight-sensing streetlights outside our cabin stayed on for two days. But now I'll quit my bellyachin' and tell about something more interesting, about what the moon appears to do here this time of year.

On the Friday after Thanksgiving, it snowed, starting with a wet snow. The temperature dropped steadily during the snowstorm, so the snow stuck to the trees. Everything turned beautiful again (and the streetlights would turn off during the day, at least betwen 10 and 2 o'clock). The next day, a Saturday, was the first completely clear day we have had in about a month. When we looked outside, the full moon was setting (around 10 am). We started to realize something interesting about the moon. In Minnesota, when the moon is full, it rises at sunset and goes down at sunrise. It does the same thing here, but at this time of year, the moon is up almost around the clock when it is full. It rises in the north and sets in the north, passing just below the horizon for a few hours while the sun is "up." (The sun only gets a few degrees above the horizon.) What the moon does of course makes sense if you think about it, but we hadn't thought about it until we saw it. I spent the better part of the day (only about two hours between 11 and 1) outside taking pictures in the winter wonderland. Here are a few of the better ones. http://finmail.blogspot.com/

Eli says that the darkness doesn't bother him. He practices a lot. Well, Eli says that he doesn't practice a lot, so we have a difference in perspective. The people who work in the Folk Arts Center say that they have never heard any student practice half as much as Eli does. He really is an amazing guy. I think people like him have lived before in history, people who played their instruments a lot when the weather wasn't good for farming. In Scandinavian folk tradition, good fiddle players learn to play from the sprite that lives in waterfalls, rapids, and lakes, called Näcken in Swedish. I am developing a theory on how that belief came about. Perhaps the person who played a lot during the winter brought out his violin in the summer, after all the crops had been planted, and played for the people in his village. The villagers were amazed and they whispered among themselves: "How did he get so good?" The musician didn't want to sound like a geek and admit that he practiced eight hours a day all winter, so he said that he had learned to play from the waterfall sprite. In the Scandinavian folk belief milieu populated with elves, gnomes, trolls, and other little people, the idea that fiddle players learn to play from the waterfall sprite seems as believable an explanation as any other. Here is the Norwegian perspective on the link between the water sprite and fiddle players: http://www.mic.no/mic.nsf/doc/art2002092513365554254978

Well that's the news from this corner of the world... where all the women get around on kick sleds, the men never complain, and all the musicians are above average.

Here's wishing all of you the happiest of holidays, full of peace and love. Take care and have fun!
Elias and LynnAnne