Harmony in the Arctic Circle

I’m at a Heathrow airport hotel just back from a trip to the Arctic Circle. The band and I were invited to perform at the Dark Season Blues Festival in Svalbard, a stone’s throw 650 miles away from the North Pole. (I soft-pedal the distance after my 500 mile bike ride a few months ago.)

Svalbard is life at extremes, in a world where the sun reigns supreme. The Northern Lights color the night sky in a graceful dance choreographed to last billions of years. In the months before and after the sun rests 6 degrees below the horizon, the light can paint shades of pastel pink over the peaks of mountains and glaciers. When the sun finally sets between November 11 and January 30, the polar night leaves all life in a blanket of absolute darkness. Polar bears, Svalbard reindeer, and Arctic fox have adapted to the harsh winters and can survive frigid Arctic temperatures as low as –58°F in the treeless lands they call home.

When a city is your home, as Brooklyn is mine, I often feel detached from nature. My time in Svalbard renewed my connection with the natural world and my sense of wonder. There is a rhythm to life filled with dynamics and harmony. If that sounds like music to you — it is. Music is filled with light and shade and the extreme contradiction between sound and silence. Svalbard is a visual representation of music. It is why I will return again and again.