Riffs, Roams and Raves:
Riff: Burning Man near Reno
About 80,000 people each year head to a desert area in northwestern Nevada, about 100 miles from Reno, for the Burning Man event. Over the course of about nine or ten days, the free spirits who attend it build a makeshift camp they call Black Rock City where they’ll exhibit whatever brand of self-expression that suits them.
Design, performance, art, costume and music that ranges from the artsy to the full-blown weird is the norm, if something like the Burning Man can even have a norm.
The showpiece of the event is “the Man,” an enormous effigy constructed of wood that is burned the second to the last night of the gathering in a symbolic ceremony that kicks the status quo and rampant commercialism to the curb.
For its attendees, the experience is a huge exercise in community. In fact, Burning Man is guided by ten principles: radical inclusion, radical self-reliance, radical self-expression, gifting, decommodification, communal effort, civic responsibility, participation, immediacy and the imperative to leave absolutely no trace of their passage in the desert.
My nephew and his wife, young thirty- somethings, are two of the attendees. This year will mark their eighth year to make the pilgrimage, where they will camp and perform, but not before they construct a performance stage on the plot that they are assigned.
Both make their living performing electronic music as a duo in many countries in the world. Brazil, Argentina, India, Mexico, and the U.S. are just a few of the places they tour. Between gigs, they are always on the prowl for reputable promoters who will book them for a rave. The stories of their travels are pretty entertaining, but not for the faint of heart. Most of the tales are kept from their mothers, an Argentinian matriarch and a somewhat prim American professional, to prevent the vapors and other manifestations of worry.
Electronic music is an umbrella term for the music they play. It’s produced with a computer loaded with a Digital Audio Workstation. On top of that, they add sound equipment that sometimes includes a synthesizer, equalizer, MIDI controllers, an audio console and interface, samplers, a guitar pedal and effects units like reverb and delay.
This equipment comprises, in my mind at least, the “instruments” behind the sound.
Like all music, electronic music has genres. Some of them are Techno, Drum and Bass, Jungle, Dubstep, Trance and Ambient.
Techno music, which they play, is structured by looping the bassline and the drumbeat and adding melodies, spoken word and other effects on top. Most of their songs are improvised during their live performances.
It’s unlikely I’ll make Yowsa Bob’s performance this year at Burning Man, but I’m more than a little curious to hear how it goes down. Even a tiny glimpse into this New World Order is going to be memorable entry in my diary.
Roam: The Wiscoy Community
This week’s roam took me to Winona, Minnesota, in the far southeastern part of the state just a few miles from the Wisconsin border at LaCrosse. Just outside of town is the intentional community of Wiscoy that was founded on the principles of collective land stewardship, social justice and consensual decision- making. Organized in 1976, the cooperative is home to about twenty adults who live on 358 acres. They share the land in common, but housing, incomes, diet, schooling and other personal decisions remain the choice of each individual. Eighty-five of the 358 acres are planted to native prairie, five acres are planted with certified organic fruits, and the rest remains in native woodland and wild states.
The community gains much of its support from the enormously successful Prairie Moon Nursery that is located on the property.
Prairie Moon is a native prairie and plant seed nursery that was begun by idealists and activists working for ecological and social renewal in the 1970s. Their clients are State and National Parks, historic entities, and other projects that are centered around restoration.
The occasion of my visit to Wiscoy was the wedding of my nephew Ian. His bride Kaitlyn, who worked for Prairie Moon and now for the Nature Conservancy, is a fortunate member of Wiscoy, having had the opportunity to join several years ago following a rare vacancy. Their home is located in a secluded, bucolic setting surrounded by wildflowers as high as your head, neat stacks of firewood, barns, sheds, tractors and tall trees. Their porch overlooks the Wiscoy Valley.
Their wedding was held on community grounds with flowers cut from the roadsides, cider made from the orchard, food provided by the livestock, and music played by community members.
Far from a hillbilly affair, the whole thing was beautiful, well thought out and intentional.
Having come of age during the backto- the land movement, it was moving to see that, in this part of the world at least, the ideals of those times have prevailed and proved sustainable, at least for a few lucky individuals.
Rave: Irish Ridge Farm
There are many properties on the Vacation Rentals by Owner website that deliver a home run, and this weekend, I experienced one that delivered the grandest of grand slams. My small clan had gathered for the wedding of my nephew Ian, an expert outdoorsman, creative prodigy and Buddha spirit whose most frequent expressions are likely to be, “It’ll all work out” and “I’m here to help.”
Nine of us piled into a spacious farmhouse on the edge of a midwestern prairie where the air was cool, the trees were tall, and the corn stood growing in the fields.
Across the road from the VRBO hosts who owned a working farm, the house once belonged to their parents, who had passed away some years ago.
Every inch of the farmhouse was scrubbed and stocked, with handwritten instructions of where to go and what to do on a tidy corkboard by the front door.
In the fridge a note told us that eggs could be harvested from the chickens in their henhouse. The farm dog, Larry, greeted us every morning, a red tiger cat kept watch on the porch, and through the windows we could hear the bleat of goats and the call of peacocks who roosted on the fences.
Like all good Midwesterners, the
owners left us alone but were there if we needed something. Gracious and respectful, they welcomed us to their place to visit the animals, roam a little, and study the grand barn painted an iconic red, with the classic arched roof on top.
One does not often get the chance to step into another, fully realized existence, but we did this weekend and the experience is sure to live in our memories for a good, long time.