River Dance

I was just in Minneapolis last weekend and happened to meet the amazingly fabulous Marylee Hardenbergh, who has been choreographing and dancing with humans and rivers and other animate creatures on several continents for many years now.

(Photo credit: Leigh Malmer/J.O.Phelps)

She is currently preparing for her troupe's 11th annual site-specific performance, Solstice River XI, which will occur at the Stone Arch Bridge in downtown Minneapolis this Solstice, June 21st, at 8pm. If you are anywhere near there - Go see it!!!

Comments

[Betsy Barnum]

I live in Minneapolis, and I have never attended this event though I hear about it every year and I even know people who perform in it. I'll try to go this year--it's not even that far from my house, and easy to get to on the bus (which is how I get around these days). This seems like one of the few really major--and original--celebrations marking a significant natural moment which all to often is merely mentioned, or sometimes not even that. Thanks for the reminder!

[Amy Lenzo]

How wonderful, Betsy! You must write and tell us about your experience!

[Betsy Barnum]

The Solstice River event was a moving experience--not only because of the dance and ritual and music of the people who planned and performed it, but also due to the apparent participation of a number of birds, particularly two herons who flew overhead before and during the ceremonies.

The Stone Arch Bridge, where Solstice River takes place, is a former railroad bridge which was converted to a walking and biking venue maybe 20 years ago. It passes over the Upper St. Anthony Falls Lock and Dam in a very industrialized section of the upper Mississippi that goes right through downtown Minneapolis--the place where the city got its start with grain mills driven by the river current. Most of these are now in ruins, and not unattractive that way.

To me, to see herons flying over this part of the river was amazing, and must say something about these magnificent birds becoming more accustomed to living near human civilization. One circled over the bridge and flew off to land on some rocks upriver; the other one just flew over and off into the sunset, its huge wingbeats visible far into the distance against the orange sky.

Also darting in and out around the bridge were a large number of swallows doing their usual evening insect-catching activity. They sometimes seemed to coordinate in their swooping with similar large round movements by the dancers.

The celebration was lovely, with dancers using streamers and costumes with wing-like parts. They were down below the bridge, on parts of the lock structure, and on old and new buildings. Music came from a local radio station run by the Minneapolis School District played on boomboxes stationed along the bridge. There were also blessings and readings done on the radio to coordinate with the dancers' movements, and what looked (from hundreds of feet away) like a native sand painting on a huge white sheet on the ground.

Very celebratory, very family-oriented, lots of little kids oohing and aahing, especially at the kayak dance that ended the program, like a ballet in the water under the bridge.

But I liked the herons best.

[Amy Lenzo]

Wow! What a wonderful experience, and what a beautiful story you tell about it! Thanks so much, Betsy.

Your comments about the herons becoming comfortable with civilization struck a chord with me since a few of their cousins, the white egrets, are a common (and uncommonly beautiful) sight around a small river that runs right next to a huge shopping mall near me here in California.

Whenever I see them I always marvel at their capacity to adapt, and feel blessed in witnessing their grace and beauty.