In The Ring In White Sulphur Springs
The week began in the most weirdly Montana way possible. On Tuesday, April 16, a most unusual jaywalker was witnessed casually threading its way through bustling midday traffic on Butte’s Harrison Avenue—a full-grown Asian elephant. Montana law provides that pedestrians always have the right of way, and Mining City motorists dutifully complied—braking or even hitting reverse to clear a path. Escaped from a traveling circus set up at the nearby civic center, Viola the elephant was unharmed after a backfiring car sparked her impromptu journey toward the Flats, tailed by a scampering circus handler striving in vain to corral her. As Viola sauntered past a backdrop of corroded headframes and the terraced slopes of the Berkeley Pit, the scene resembled nothing so much as a middle-period Fellini film or high-concept TV spot for joint-pain pharmaceuticals.
Though this unlikely sequence of events took the week’s prize for weirdness under the Big Sky, another happening a bit farther east provided an unusual—if more thoroughly thought through—occurrence. And, in a way, the circus was responsible for this one too. The tiny town of White Sulphur Springs, a ranching community with its eponymous hot springs and faded railroading roots, played host to a unique musical experience by four world-class talents—in a venue like no other.
Drive west to the end of White Sulphur’s Main Street and, just before the town turns to hay fields, you’ll pass a stately stuccoed Victorian home brimming with gabled porches and gingerbread eaves known as the Ringling Mansion. You’ll have heard of the nearby town of Ringling if you’re familiar with the area—or you’re a serious Parrothead. That the mayor of Margaritaville once wrote an ode to that “dyin’ little town” might be as likely as an elephant hoofing its way out of uptown Butte, but Jimmy Buffett had a long association with Montana, particularly among the creative set of 1970s Livingston.
But the name Ringling should ring a bell for another reason: several generations of that wealthy family settled here, as railroaders and ranchers (though by some accounts John Ringling spent much of his time railroading the locals into funding his ventures). But when he wasn’t residing here, Ringling and his four siblings kept another big-time business going: the Ringling Brothers Circus.
Which brings us to Friday night in the living room of that mansion, which became the center ring for an evening of music by the Ahn Trio and Antigoni Goni. The Trio—sisters Angella, Lucia, and Maria—play violin, piano, and cello respectively and have played together most of their lives, in their native South Korea and here after emigrating to the States to study at the famed Juilliard School. Antigoni is a Greek guitarist based in Brussels who also studied and taught at Juilliard. And since Angella’s hectic performance schedule and teaching duties at MSU don’t keep her busy enough, she’s also an enthusiastic member of the Arts Council.
If the players bring a unique mix of experience to the performance, they’ve also brought a remarkable slate of music. The first piece of the evening is David Balakrishnan’s “Skylife,” hard rock-inflected and challenging, which fills the mansion’s wide parlor with invigorating noise. Next, Maria Ahn begins playing an instantly recognizable follow-up, the prelude to Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1, but after its famous first arpeggiated lines the notes descend instead of rise, effortlessly becoming another work iconic to late 20th century listeners: “Every Breath You Take” by the Police. It’s the first in a series of six works adapted by American composer Dušan Bogdanović from the songs of Police frontman Sting, and a fascinating adaptation of chamber instruments to the rhythms of pop music which itself draws from jazz, reggae, and other influences. Later, the quartet plays Atanas Ourkouzounov’s “Lamento et Rock Bulgare,” written especially for this collaboration, and paying off the evening’s overall theme: “Balkanophonia,” an affinity for music from around the Adriatic.
Another theme at work here is the love of turning unusual spaces into performance venues. Though the mansion’s parlor is no stranger to live music, this confluence of players, material, audience, and location has got to be unique. And it’s a spirit that’s been increasingly embraced statewide. Whether they’re new spaces purpose-built for performance, such as Bozeman’s Elm, or repurposed from existing sites in the way that Great Falls’ Newberry has been, entrepreneurs are reinventing these experiences in exciting ways. Helena’s Space One Eleven, for example, has shoehorned music, literature, and a “Tacos and Tassels” burlesque show into a cozy, charming space a block up from Last Chance Gulch. Even venues such as bookstores and libraries around the state have expanded their missions to include performances, cracking these spaces’ once-sacrosanct pacts of silence in the process.
Even Montana’s forests prove that all the world’s a stage, as Havre’s Montana Actors’ Theatre showed last year, by staging “Macbeth” in Beaver Creek State Park—complete with witches, swords, daggers, and real live horses. Actor Jay Pyette, cofounder of the Theatre (and an Arts Council member) performed Banquo while helping mount the Scottish play, bringing together a community of actors, horse wranglers, sound techs, costumers and others to ensure that Birnam wood would indeed remove to the Hi-Line.
If Shakespeare is the ultimate performance then perhaps no one can compete, in terms of venue at least, with Montana’s champion of the Bard: Shakespeare In the Parks. For more than a half century, the Bozeman-based troupe has set up, performed, broken down, and hauled Shakespeare’s tragedies and comedies from one end of Montana to the other, using their own portable stage and whatever backdrops are available each night. That might be the badlands at Makoshika State Park, the courthouse in a town square, or even a castle. Well, perhaps The Castle, anyway. That’s the name of White Sulphur Springs’ other imposing mansion, perched atop the east end of town and where Arts Council staffers caught a performance of “Measure for Measure” the last time we were in town.
It’s no surprise that Arts Council member and workwear company founder Sarah Calhoun joined us for that show—we’d just spent a day doing strategic planning down at the Ringling Mansion as her guest. Sarah’s not only serving the arts on our behalf, she’s also the proprietor of the mansion—or as she’s named it, the Ringling Social Club and Boarding House. It’s available for lodging and meetings and performances, and if you’re lucky you might snag a room there in late July for another little project Sarah’s been tinkering with for the last decade or so. It’s yet another innovative performance venue, and just a short drive farther west from the house. Hang a right at the round bales; follow the plywood signs and cars stuffed with happy people till you hear music. In a land of odd and wonderful confluences of unusual locales and talents and audiences, what better place to hear Keb’ Mo’ or Charley Pride or Valerie June or Emmylou Harris? That’s right; just a stone’s throw from the house the Ringlings built is a mild-mannered cow pasture that, for one long weekend each summer, becomes the Red Ants Pants Music Festival. It’s the best circus around, a high-wire act that seems to effortlessly juggle country, blues, agriculture, food, arts, and assorted good times. The rings are filled with horses and cows and sheep, and while they haven’t yet featured any lions or tigers, there’s usually a stuffed bear or two on hand at the pepper spray demo. And though you’ll probably never see a full-size elephant strolling the back pasture, well…never say never.
The ringleaders of these new big tops under the Big Sky always seem to have one more trick up their sleeve.
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