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Tribal Fusion Portfolio


It is our pleasure to present Tribal Fusion Portfolio, a series of portfolios focusing on the many facets of the ever-evolving bellydance genre known as Tribal Fusion. From visionary dancers and choreographers to innovative photographers, avant guarde costumery, ancient artifacts, and dusty locations, we invite you to explore a variegated kaleidoscope of tribal fusion imagery.


Tribal Fusion Portfolio: The

Malamute Saloon


The Malamute Saloon In this issue of Tribal Fusion Portfolio, we’ll explore the world-famous watering hole, The Malamute Saloon, located near Ester, Alaska. We’ll begin by experiencing the location through the eyes of Robert W. Service as he sets the scene with his narrative poem, The Shooting of Dan McGrew. Then we’ll embark on a behind-the-scenes walk about with Moria Chappell during her Malamute Saloon Photoshoot. Lastly, we’ll look at the Contributors to this issue of Tribal Fusion Portfolio.


The Shooting of Dan McGrew


The Shooting of Robert W. Service

Dan McGrew The 1890s Yukon settlements of Ester and Cripple Creek, located near Fairbanks, Alaska, sheltered roughneck prospectors, weatherworn strangers, ladies of the evening, and a poet who penned their affairs. The settlements’ Malamute Saloon became the setting of a narrative poem written by Robert W. Service, published in 1907. In 2011, the saloon became the location of a photo shoot featuring Moria Chappell. Photos from the shoot illustrate the poem while showcasing the saloon, where a “jag-time tune” still mingles with lust for the “muck called gold.”


A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon; The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune; Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew, And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou.


When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare, There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear. He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a louse, Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks for the house. There was none could place the stranger's face, though we searched ourselves for a clue; But we drank his health, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McGrew.


There's men that somehow just grip your eyes, and hold them hard like a spell; And such was he, and he looked to me like a man who had lived in hell; With a face most hair, and the dreary stare of a dog whose day is done, As he watered the green stuff in his glass, and the drops fell one by one. Then I got to figgering who he was, and wondering what he'd do, And I turned my head — and there watching him was the lady that's known as Lou.


His eyes went rubbering round the room, and he seemed in a kind of daze, Till at last that old piano fell in the way of his wandering gaze. The rag-time kid was having a drink; there was no one else on the stool, So the stranger stumbles across the room, and flops down there like a fool. In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway; Then he clutched the keys with his talon hands — my God! but that man could play.


Were you ever out in the Great Alone, when the moon was awful clear, And the icy mountains hemmed you in with a silence you most could hear; With only the howl of a timber wolf, and you camped there in the cold, A half-dead thing in a stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck called gold; While high overhead, green, yellow and red, the North Lights swept in bars? — Then you've a hunch what the music meant. . . hunger and night and the stars.


And hunger not of the belly kind, that's banished with bacon and beans, But the gnawing hunger of lonely men for a home and all that it means; For a fireside far from the cares that are, four walls and a roof above; But oh! so cramful of cozy joy, and crowned with a woman's love — A woman dearer than all the world, and true as Heaven is true — (God! how ghastly she looks through her rouge, — the lady that's known as Lou).


Then on a sudden the music changed, so soft that you scarce could hear; But you felt that your life had been looted clean of all that it once held dear; That someone had stolen the woman you loved; that her love was a devil's lie; That your guts were gone, and the best for you was to crawl away and die. 'Twas the crowning cry of a heart's despair, and it thrilled you through and through — "I guess I'll make it a spread misère," said Dangerous Dan McGrew.


The music almost died away. . .then it burst like a pent-up flood; And it seemed to say, "Repay, repay," and my eyes were blind with blood. The thought came back of an ancient wrong, and it stung like a frozen lash, And the lust awoke to kill, to kill. . . then the music stopped with a crash, And the stranger turned, and his eyes they burned in a most peculiar way; In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway;


Then his lips went in in a kind of grin, and he spoke, and his voice was calm, And "Boys," says he, "you don't know me, and none of you care a damn; But I want to state, and my words are straight, and I'll bet my poke they're true, That one of you is a hound of hell. . .and that one is Dan McGrew."


Then I ducked my head, and the lights went out, and two guns blazed in the dark, And a woman screamed, and the lights went up, and two men lay stiff and stark. Pitched on his head, and pumped full of lead, was Dangerous Dan McGrew, While the man from the creeks lay clutched to the breast of the lady that's known as Lou.


These are the simple facts of the case, and I guess I ought to know. They say the stranger was crazed with "hooch," and I'm not denying it's so. I'm not so wise as the lawyer guys, but strictly between us two — The woman that kissed him and — pinched his poke — was the lady that's known as Lou.


The Shooting of Dan McGrew was first published in 1907 in The Songs of the Sourdough. The poem served as the basis for the 1998 novel, The Man From the Creeks, by Robert Kroetsch, and was the inspiration for a 1949 song "Dangerous Dan McGrew" by Guy Lombardo and His Royal Canadians. The story was referenced in the song “Put the Blame on Mame” sung by Rita Hayworth in the 1945 movie Gilda, which claims that rather than being shot to death, Dan McGrew was slain by Mame's "hoochy-coo" dance. The poem was also seminal in creating the now cliché saloon showdown: the stranger, the dangerous card player, the sultry saloon girl, tension mounting via piano playing, lights out, gunshots, lights up— slain men. The poem's artistic influence surfaced again when US President Ronald Reagan and Canadian Prime Minister Brian Mulroney performed an alternating recital of it in both private and public meetings. The poem was one of Reagan’s favorites, so much so that for his Congressional Memorial Service, Senator Lisa Murkowski of Alaska included the poem in the Congressional Record in honor of the former president’s love for the poem and for her state.


Malamute Saloon Photoshoot


The Saloon


The Fleur de Lys Wall


The Storage Building


The Porch


The Bath House


The WAGON


The Cabin


The Truck


The Shack


contributors


Cover Art

Moria Chappell    

Model

Moria Chappell  graces  stages  around  the  globe  bringing   the  exquisite  art  of  Tribal  Fusion  Bellydance  to  its  utmost   in  elegance,  darkness,  and  intensity  of  expression.    Tribal   Fusion  is  an  eclectic  expression  of  the  moves  and   emotions  born  from  the  lands  and  heart  of  the  Middle   East  and  beyond.         With  an  underpinning  of  the  old  and  the  authentic,  and   by  infusing  antique  jewelry,  textiles,  and  musical   instruments  which  connote  the  essence  of  these  ancient   cultures,  an  American  ear  for  industrial  rebellion  is  then   juxtaposed  and  layered  atop,  thereby  weaving  in  the   contemporary  myth,  styles,  and  beliefs  of  a  modern  era.     Moria  creates  her  whimsical  mixture  of  enchanting   darkness  by  embodying  the  mythos  of  a  modern   industry  with  the  legends  of  a  forgotten  ancestry.    Her   work  is  detailed  and  enigmatic,  heralding  from  a   childhood  of  Bohemian  upbringing  where  value  was   placed  on  beauty  and  the  truth  of  artistic  expression.  


Poem

“The Shooting  of  Dan  McGrew”    

Robert W.  Service    

Robert William  Service  was  born  in  1874  and  died  in  1958.    Known  as  "The   Bard  of  the  Yukon,”  Service  grew  famous  for  his  poems  “The  Shooting  of   Dan  McGrew”  and  “The  Cremation  of  Sam  McGee,”  works  penned  for  his   first  book,  Songs  of  a  Sourdough.    Although  extremely  popular,  his  poems   were  considered  “doggerel”  by  the  literary  set.   Born  in  England,  he  moved  to  Kilwinning,  Scotland  at  the  age  of  five  to  live   with  his  three  maiden  aunts  and  his  paternal  grandfather.    There  he   composed  his  first  verse,  a  grace,  on  his  sixth  birthday:   God  bless  the  cakes  and  bless  the  jam;   Bless  the  cheese  and  the  cold  boiled  ham.   Bless  the  scones  Aunt  Jeannie  makes,   And  save  us  all  from  bellyaches.    Amen   As  a  young  adult,  Service  moved  to  Canada  where  he  was  hired  by  a   Canadian  Bank  of  Commerce  in  Victoria.    The  bank  officers  sent  him  to   Kamloops  in  the  middle  of  British  Columbia.    He  lived  over  the  bank  and   dressed  for  dinner  in  Victoria,  and  played  polo  in  the  horse  country  of   Kamloops.   By  the  fall  of  1904,  the  bank  sent  him  to  their  Whitehorse  branch  in  the   Yukon.    Throughout  this  period,  Service  wrote  verses  peppered  with  gutsy   stories  yet  his  personal  life  remained  that  of  a  polished  gentleman.  


Photo shoot Kim Hudson  

Photographer  

Kim Hudson  hails  from  the  land  of  the  Midnight  Sun  and   currently  lives  in  Las  Vegas  with  her  husband  and  two  children.     While  being  a  homeschooling  mother,  she  also  runs  180360,  a   company  offering  photographer  services  which  include   environmental  portraiture  and  lifestyle  sessions.   In  addition  to  photography,  Ms.  Hudson  likes  growing  and   making  her  family’s  food,  visiting  new  places,  running,  yoga,   hiking,  and  listening  to  records.   She  can  be  found  on  the  web  at  www.180360.com.    


Portfolio

Dahna Lorrain  Koth    

Editor &  Graphic  Designer    

Dahna Koth  serves  as  Marketing  Director  and  Fellow  of  the  Mythic   Imagination  Institute.    In  this  capacity,  she  produced  and  co-­‐wrote  with   Honora  Foah  over  a  dozen  full-­‐length  radio  programs  and  continues  to   serve  as  creative  consultant  for  Mythic  Imagination  Magazine.   Ms.  Koth  is  also  Director  of  Creative  Services  for  the  international   business  group,  DLK  Ltd.    As  a  writer  and  creative  director,  her  clients  in   corporate  communications  and  business  theatre  have  included  Fortune   500  companies  such  as  Coca-­‐Cola,  BellSouth,  Eli  Lilly,  SAAB,  Ritz-­‐Carlton,   Delta  Airlines,  Cingular,  and  Nortel  Networks.   Prior  to  joining  DLK  Ltd.,  Ms.  Koth  was  Creative  Director  for  two  of  the   nation’s  top  corporate  communications  firms,  PGI  and  The  Jack  Morton   Company.    At  Conduit  Communications,  she  served  as  Vice  President  of   Marketing  &  Development  specializing  in  television  programming  and   joint  venture  relations  with  New  World  Entertainment.   For  seven  years,  Ms.  Koth  worked  as  Development  Project  Manager  for   the  Dollywood  Company  where  she  focused  on  the  development  of  a   world-­‐class  resort  for  Dollywood,  a  $4.5  million  themed  dinner   extravaganza  called  Dixie  Stampede,  as  well  as  Dollywood  theme  park   expansions.    After  leaving  Dollywood,  she  was  commissioned  by  Dolly   Parton  to  write  two  movie  scripts,  and  by  Dollywood  to  write  two   musicals.      


Location

Katelin H.    

Author  

The Malamute  Saloon     When  I  was  a  little  girl,  my  parents  didn't  read  me  the  typical   princess  fairytale  bedtime  stories;  I  was  a  Sourdough,  an  Alaskan.     The  poems  and  ballads  of  Robert  Service  were  spun  to  life  as  I   nestled  into  a  swirl  of  downy  rest.    “The  Cremation  of  Sam  McGee”   was  a  favorite...  a  tale  of  sled  dogs  and  friendships  only  the  Yukon   could  build.    But  the  story  I  always  wanted  to  hear  was  “ The   Shooting  of  Dan  McGrew'...  a  cold  blooded  murder,  a  dusty  piano,   and  a  Lady  that's  known  as  Lou.    The  setting:  The  Malamute  Saloon.       Most  childhood  bedtime  stories  are  set  in  fictional  places  with   fictional  characters.    The  Malamute  Saloon  was  not  only  a  real  place,   but  a  place  that  I  knew  and  loved.    My  father,  the  bartender;  my   mother,  the  honky-­‐tonk  piano  player.    This  place  is  legit.    Sawdust   floor,  swinging  doors,  bar  stools  worn  with  years.    The  memories   (now  20  years  old)  still  fresh  as  new  fallen  snow.    Huskies  howling  at   the  Northern  Lights  and  the  crunch  of  peanut  shells  under  mud-­‐ caked  boots.    I  couldn't  think  of  a  place  more  suited  to  raise  a  child.     And,  mark  my  words,  the  best  custard  you'll  ever  eat.  


Editorial Note:   The   Malamute   Saloon   is   spelled   at   least   two   different   ways:   Malamute   and   Malemute.     We   opted   to   use   “Malamute”   since   that   is   the   way   Robert   W.   Service   spelled   it   in   his   poem,   and   therefore  adjusted  other  spellings  for  consistency.  


Moria Chappell Portfolio: Malamute Saloon  

Moria Chappell's Tribal Fusion Portfolio: The Malamute Saloon