Tongass Voices

Tongass Voices: Quinn Christopherson on turning poems into songs

Quinn Christopherson plays at Overstreet Park. July 27, 2024. (Photo by Tasha Elizarde/KTOO).

Quinn Christopherson is an Alaska musician who gained nationwide recognition by winning NPR’s Tiny Desk contest in 2019.

He just returned from a tour with Portugal. The Man and performed at Juneau’s climate fair on a rainy day to a small group there. 

Listen:

This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.

Quinn Christopherson: I’m Quinn Christopherson. I’m a musician born, raised and based in Anchorage, Alaska. Ahtna and Inupiaq, and I am excited to play Juneau.

Oh my gosh, nothing is too small for me in Alaska. This is, like, everything I want to play. You know, I’m Alaskan forever. 

And, yeah, I just came back from a huge tour, like playing like places, like Red Rocks and like, you know, really special places. But there’s never anything better than coming back to my home state and playing like a tiny event, like, to me, that’s so much more important and impactful than going out and playing, I don’t know — it’s crazy to say — for 1000s of people, but like, it’s way more intimate. 

And I think any artist will tell you, big or small, like, will tell you that it’s harder to play for 10 people than it is to play for like 5000 because it is so much more vulnerable.

I started playing music, you know, when I got a guitar. I guess when I was 21. It was kind of late.

But I always feel like I started writing my stories in middle school, like with poems and just kind of getting my feelings out, and the guitar was just the gateway to turn those into songs. 

I think there’s like a fine line between poetry and song, and yeah, I feel like some of my songs are poems, just barely a song. I just feel like whatever way I can tell the story, that’s what I’m gonna do, whether it’s like just saying it or speaking it, or, you know, singing it, I don’t know it still feels like a poem sometimes. 

 

Tongass Voices: Chloey Cavanaugh on Kake’s last Dog Salmon Festival

People playing “chicken” at Dog Salmon Fest in Kake in 2023. (Photo courtesy of Kelli Jackson)

Kake’s Dog Salmon Festival started 30 years ago as a way to celebrate the commercial fishing season. But this year’s festival on Saturday will be the last in the village of 500 people.  

Organizers are planning to change the festival going forward to better reflect the community as it is now. They plan to rename the event and emphasize Lingít heritage. 

Juneau artist Chloey Cavanaugh has been working with Kelli Jackson with the Kake Tribal Corporation on making this last year of the original festival special. 

Listen:

This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.

Chloey Cavanaugh: I am Chloe Kavanaugh. My Lingít name is Tláakw Sháa.

My connection to Kake is it’s my grandfather’s home community. He grew up in Kake, and I was back a few months ago.

So Kelli’s been just really amazing to collaborate with, and kind of dream big about what the future of Dog Salmon Fest looks like. So it’s kind of just started off as us talking at a cabin and being like, “Okay, what can we do for the last year of Dog Salmon Fest?”

I think it mostly started off as a celebration of the fishing season and a time to share that success with the community and celebrate and compete with other communities on different canoe events, of races, of food competitions, and this way to kind of celebrate the fishing season together.

The spectators of a Dog Salmon Fest canoe race in the 1990s. (Photo by Gordon Jackson, courtesy of Kelli Jackson)

I think there’s an immense amount of kindness in the community that makes it really, really special. The community is so invested in the subsistence there, and to see that wherever you go, just people enjoying the landscape is just, yeah, it makes it a really special place.

At least, like, my understanding about Kake, and what I’ve learned over the years and gone through videotapes that my grandfathers left me is it just it took a really big hit with religion and the community, and a lot of knowledge and access to culture being lost, although that subsistence is really, really there. There was also a lot of damage done, and the relationship between the military and Kake, and bad pipes being put in the schools, and a lot of harm done to the community.

And I think there’s a lot of healing happening in Kake right now with not only culture, but healing centers. Joel Jackson’s putting in a healing center, and there’s a lot of work around, now, this phase of recognizing the harm that’s been done, and the community’s push to recognize how we move forward and working together to make that happen. So I think it’s kind of this beautiful moment to recognize where we’ve been and recognize how to move forward, and the community’s huge role in making that happen and that healing process.

The winners of a Dog Salmon Fest canoe race in the 1990s. (Photo by Gordon Jackson, courtesy of Kelli Jackson)

I think it’s one of those things where the community is so invested, and it’s just about finding the connections outside of Kake and people that are willing to invest in the community. And it’s so strange how we’re so close in distance in a lot of ways, but because of a lack of a road system, we also are so disconnected in those ways. So I think in a lot of the ways that we see Juneau thriving — with education, with arts, with investment in youth — is something that Kake is really, has been really good at, and is wanting to expand on.

For the first time in years, a catamaran will bring people to Kake for the festival from Juneau, with about 100 spots. Attendees can also stay at the former cannery bunkhouse for $25 a night. Bookings are through Kake Tribal Corporation.

Tongass Voices: Xixtc’ i see Ruby Hughes fuses pop culture and tradition in her sewing

Xixtc’ i see Ruby Hughes with “Raven Transforms into Marilyn,” her award-winning beaded robe. June 24, 2024. (Photo by Yvonne Krumrey/KTOO).

This is Tongass Voices, a series from KTOO sharing weekly perspectives from the homelands of the Áak’w Kwáan and beyond.

Xixtc’ i see Ruby Hughes won the Sewing Division of the Juried Arts show at Celebration earlier this year with her piece “Raven Transforms into Marilyn.” That’s right, Marilyn Monroe.

The button robe features a raven lined with crystals, with a likeness of the blonde bombshell on its chest, and a diamond-like rhinestone in its mouth. As Hughes explains, her inspiration for the piece was decades and generations in the making.

Listen:

This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.

Xixtc’ i see Ruby Hughes: So at my salon, which I opened in 1986 — so way back then, someone gave me a really nice lithographic postcard of Marilyn Monroe. And I put it up on this window, along with several others — it was just kind of like a little collage of things I was collecting. 

“Raven Transforms into Marilyn” by Xixtc’ i see Ruby Hughes. June 24, 2024. (Photo by Yvonne Krumrey/KTOO).

For some reason I remember when Marilyn died, and I was really sad about it, and I thought she lived out in this little cabin that was right before you took a turn to Fritz Cove Road. Don’t ask me. 

Yvonne Krumrey: How old were you? 

Xixtc’ i see Ruby Hughes: Oh, gosh, three. You know that I had quite an imagination.

So, yeah, my name is Ruby Hughes. My Lingít name is Xixtc’ i see, which is “daughter of the frog.” And the clan I belong to is the Raven Coho, and we are from Dry Bay, which is just about 50 miles south of Yakutat.

And so the two white frogs in my Raven, on the shoulders represent my name and the seaweed designs represent the location of where I’m from, and each clan has ownership of different designs, so you can tell where they were from, and that’s what Lingít art is about. It says where you’re from, and who you’re from, and what, what your name is, and and what you own, what you don’t own, where you’ve been, where you’re going. 

So I got the inspiration for my Raven from a project I was going to do for a vest, and I decided once that I made the design and I enlarged it a little bit, you know what? This would look good on a blanket. 

“Raven Transforms into Marilyn” by Xixtc’ i see Ruby Hughes. June 24, 2024. (Photo by Yvonne Krumrey/KTOO).

And then I was playing around with the inside of the body, and decided to put a female face, like humanoid and, and then I thought, well, it means, kind of represent somebody, you know, and, and I first thought about my mother, and then I thought, well, you know that I, I kind of was playing around with it, and I did Marilyn Monroe, just because I was etching, and I went, ‘you know what, that would look really cool, I think the blonde hair.’ 

And then I kind of started thinking about transformation, the power of transformation, and the power that Raven had when he transformed into a woman, because there’s several stories about that that I really liked. So that was what inspired me to do the female image in the middle.

Tongass Voices: Hans Javier on celebrating the Fourth with Filipino flare

Hans Javier keeps the drummers of Juneau Ati-Atihan on tempo as they walk the streets of downtown Juneau for the annual Independence Day parade. July 4, 2024. (Tasha Elizarde/KTOO)

This is Tongass Voices, a series from KTOO sharing weekly perspectives from the homelands of the Áak’w Kwáan and beyond. 

Every year on July 4th, drums awaken the streets of downtown Juneau. This iconic sound is Juneau Ati-Atihan, a musical marching group that brings the Filipino festival of the same name from Aklan to Juneau. 

One of the lead drummers, Hans Javier, has participated in the Independence Day parade since he was a kid. Twenty years later, Juneau Ati-Atihan is his way of giving a shoutout to his culture, while spending quality time with his family. 

Listen:

This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.

Hans Javier: First name Hans, last name, Javier. What we are doing today is, we are drumming for the parade representing specifically my Filipino culture from Aklan, Aklanon, and we are drumming for Ati-Atihan. 

Ati-Atihan is a festival, it’s generally like a week long. It honors the infant Jesus. It’s our saint, it’s Santo Niño. So primarily, the festival is celebrated for religious purposes. And you know, we do this back home in the Philippines on an annual basis. So, you know, doing it on Independence Day is a great way to represent our culture.

I watched my uncles and older cousins do this, and I always wanted to enter not knowing that, you know, they were open to me learning. And then one day, I believe it was, uncle Ed asked me if I wanted to join. And I think I was maybe 11 or 12 at the time, and ever since I’ve been doing it.

I am one of many leads. I’ve played all drums, from bass to snare. I was primarily a snare lead. We bought a new quad, so I switched over to the quad. Most importantly, my role as a quad is to make sure people stay in tempo. But my primary role overall is to make sure everything’s organized – drummers are present, organized formation, and yeah.

Hans Javier to the drummers: Ready! Start banging!

I feel like we bring flavor, and not to kind of downplay the rest of the parade, but you know, I feel like every time we pass through a certain area, you know, everybody gets up from the curb. Instead of waiting for candies, you know, they’ll get up and dance with us. We welcome people to jump in where they’re at and come dance with us. 

Funny story, last year we had, I guess my drummers were banging so hard we broke like, four drums last year. 

Yeah, when we pass a certain area, specifically like Marine Park and the Filipino Community, people tend to play louder and faster, and that’s where people generally break their drums.

I’m very close with my family, I’m very close with my cousins. And as we get older, it’s a lot harder to see them. But everybody, you know, around this time of year really makes time out to participate. And a lot of these cousins I don’t see until – and keep in mind, we live in Juneau, small town, right? – but a lot of these cousins I don’t see until, like, a month out of July 4th. 

So it’s a great time for us to kind of reconnect and, you know, be a family. I really love that part about it.

Juneau Ati-Atihan finishes their route in Juneau’s annual Independence Day parade after having won “Best in Parade” for 2024. (Tasha Elizarde/KTOO)

Tongass Voices: Lovely Colours on playing for their hometown

Lovely Colours playing at a sold out show at Crystal Saloon. June 7, 2024. (Yvonne Krumrey/KTOO).

This is Tongass Voices, a series from KTOO sharing weekly perspectives from the homelands of the Áak’w Kwáan and beyond. 

The members of Lovely Colours may live in Seattle, but three of the four grew up playing music together in Juneau. That’s including their substitute drummer, who first remembers performing with the band at his 16th birthday party. 

They came to town this weekend to celebrate the release of their first album, Dancing with a Ghost, with a sold-out show at the Crystal Saloon. 

And they say playing in Juneau always feels like coming home, even for their bandmate who didn’t grow up here.

Listen:

This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.

James Rosales: In the two times the band has been here, Patrick has been to Pelmeni’s like 17 times. So he’s pretty much from Juneau at this point.

I’m Cole Paramore.

I’m Devin Damitio.

James Rosales. 

Patrick May.

Yvonne Krumrey: And who are you together? 

All: Lovely Colours.

James Rosales: Yeah, we are here in Juneau celebrating our new album called Dancing with a Ghost. We just released it, and we’re here to celebrate it in our hometown — well, the three of us — and we’re ready to rock. 

Patrick May: I think it was more fun. Like, the crowd is more stoked to see us, and it’s just there’s so much energy in the room, last time we were here.

Cole Paramore: Facts. In Seattle, sometimes people can be kind of jaded. There’s so much music happening all the time, and I don’t know. Sometimes, you know, you throw a rock and you hit a musician, just on the street.  

Patrick May: It’s like, we have a high-energy rock side, and we have kind of a softer alternative side, and trying to blend that. We’re still kind of trying to blend those two together into one sound, I think. And you hear both of those on this album, but if you go further back in our discography, you hear maybe four sounds while we’re still figuring it out.

Devin Damitio: This album feels more realized than before, and you can kind of hear elements of all the past songs in the album, but it just feels a little bit more refined.  Like, yeah, we’re still kind of chipping away at it. I think it’s going to be a never-ending thing.

Patrick May: For example, Bumfuzzle, I think, is one that you really hear those two sides kind of starting to blend together. 

James Rosales: We’ll be playing it front to back at our show at Crystal Saloon, as well. So that’s another kind of special thing about this show, we normally wouldn’t do that, but like Devin was saying we worked on this for two plus years, and so we want to celebrate it, and we just want to play it live front to back.

Devin Damitio: Yeah, this album is, definitely, like, the best representation of us and where we’re at now. So I’m excited that it’s out, and I’m excited to be playing it in Juneau. 

Tongass Voices: Sakoon Donedin Jackson on re-indigenizing her life

Sakoon Donedin Jackson at Wooshkindein Da.áat Lily Hope Weaver studio, where she worked on the Emergence Robe for SEARHC on June 4, 2024. (Tasha Elizarde/KTOO)

This is Tongass Voices, a series from KTOO sharing weekly perspectives from the homelands of the Áak’w Kwáan and beyond. 

Sakoon Donedin Jackson is a Chilkat weaver from Alberta, Canada who began her practice during the COVID-19 pandemic when she took classes online with Juneau’s Lily Hope. Now, Jackson is the featured resident artist at Wooshkindein Da.áat Lily Hope Weaver studio, where she has been working on a woolen button robe and teaching weaving classes for the first time. 

KTOO caught up with Jackson before she finished teaching her first weaving class the day before Celebration 2024 began.

Listen:

This transcript has been lightly edited for clarity.

My name is Sakoon. In English, I’m known as Donedin Jackson, and I am a child of the eagle moiety. And my father’s mother is Kukhittan from inland Deisleen, and my mother’s father is German. 

So, we are at Wooshkindein Da.áat Lily Hope Weaver studio, and I am currently the featured resident artist in the studio, for the time being. And I have been honored with the opportunity to work on a button robe, which is a very rare opportunity, since Lily doesn’t specialize in our woolen button robe. 

So this is the Emergence Robe, and it was commissioned first by the SEARHC medical organization 30 years ago from Lily’s mother, Clarissa Rizal. So, SEARHC organization uses this robe for patients who are transitioning from this world to the next. And so the families can request the use of this robe up to a week before they expect their family to pass, and it gets laid on their bed to aid with their transition. I am lucky enough to be here in the studio as Lily’s apprentice and working on getting that completed. 

I actually, this is my very first opportunity to work on a full size button robe for Lily, and so I get to really do some true apprentice work. But I actually came to the weaving through Lily when she went online during the pandemic. I got laid off from my government job due to said pandemic and I decided to re-indigenize my life. And I began learning Lingít, our traditional language. And the language led me to the weaving, and I have been doing nothing else ever since.

So the Goldbelt Heritage Foundation and CCHITA, Tlingit and Haida Council, has partnered together to bring me to the traditional territories to offer some weaving workshops. Because two years ago, Lily decided I was going to teach, even though I was like, “I’m not ready!” She said, “Yes, you are.” And she gave me the boot.

And so this is now, officially, I have been teaching workshops starting this last year. And so we are going to be completing my very first weaving workshop with Goldbelt. And we’re weaving the side border of a child-sized Chilkat robe to be turned into a piece of regalia for a headdress. 

Oh, it has been just absolutely delightful. And it’s been really quite a teaching experience, or a learning experience, doing the teaching, just identifying people’s understanding, who has taught them before, where they’re at and how to meet them there and bring them all together forward, collectively. And so it’s been a wonderful reconnecting opportunity to be here in Lingít Aaní and Áak’w Kwáan territory.

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