Dalhalla with Bon Iver
Pics & Captions from Sweden, Pt. 2
If we mentioned our plans to visit Rättvik to someone in Stockholm, it was immediate wide eyes, with a pleased and surprised repeating of the town’s name, but with proper pronunciation.
Rättvik?! Well, you’re going to one of the most beautiful areas of Sweden. What’s bringing you out there?
We say we’re going to a concert.
Ah, you’re going to Dalhalla. Who’s playing?
Bon Iver’s show inside a decommissioned quarry in the Swedish countryside was the original anchor for our trip. After relentlessly walking Stockholm, we rented a car and drove north.
We stopped at a fairy-tale of a place in Tällberg called The Green Hotel, where the band was staying.
Had a nice walk with Josh—manager of the artist and zero other artists!—and Vern to the nearby lake. There is always a nearby lake. We sat on a dock near a quiet RV park.
The landscape outside Stockholm is upper midwest with better barn design. It makes sense that Scandinavian population in America is high in Minnesota and Wisconsin.
There are these stone walls all over Nashville, built with a unique stacking method popular during the Civil War. People love to talk about them. They’ll stand forever, apparently, though sometimes I see them crumbling around town. I’d like to know the Swedish story behind this fence design. I saw it several places. It’s rural, but also metal?
We had dinner at the hotel, a fish and potatoes prix fixe menu served by the lovely Green Hotel employees, and drinks in the lower-level lounge which was featured a light-up dance floor (dark that night) and deep, horseshoe banquettes well out of sync with the hotel’s otherwise simple, woodsy presentation. I wish I had a pic of those booths.
Brian and I struck out on booking rooms at the Green Hotel. We tried, but well after the show was announced and sold out. I can only assume it’s No Vacancy whenever there’s a big night at Dalhalla. We told the band we’d see them the following day at the gig, and drove a little further to Rättvik, where our Airbnb sat on another lake. It was magical in it’s own way.
In the morning, we walked around the town, found some coffee, and got the allegedly famous ice cream from Rättviks Glass. It was fine, but had nothing on the spot up the hill from Fotografiska in Stockholm. I did love this statue in the park where the ice cream place sat; musical rather than municipal, military, or religious.
Brian and I had reached a rare state of relaxation and off-the-gridness at this point. Legitimately calm, happy, filled with good vacation energy.
Here’s Brian, worshiping backstage just after we arrived at Dalhalla, and a couple other shots taken before the doors opened.
I was stoked to see Bon Iver, always, but was most excited to see my friend Niclas. He drove over from Karlstad to join us for the gig, and the following day we’d go to his place for the third stop on our Swedish tour.
The box office and entrance is at the rim of the quarry. Concertgoers stream down into the venue along a slow-descending ramp which wraps around the rock walls. Brian and I were going up, against the current of fans, looking for Niclas.
It’s unlikely I’d have any real interest in Sweden without Niclas. His record label Gravitation quietly released Shallow Grave, the debut album from The Tallest Man on Earth, putting one my favorite records of all time into the world with no distribution, no advertisements, no videos, nothing. I searched hard, and couldn’t even find a photo of the artist online.
This was 2008, when it was still possible to read a review of an obscure album on a powerful music blog and be the only booking agent to reach out. I met Niclas via email, and eventually in person when he and Kristian, The Tallest Man on Earth himself, came to Nashville for an early evening show at the Basement. Somehow, it was packed, and if you know the venue and know the Tallest Man’s actual stature, you won’t be surprised to hear I still had no idea what he looked even after the gig. But I heard him, and I felt him! I signed on as the booking agent for North America. Niclas eventually, reluctantly assumed the role of manager, basically by default.
All things must pass, indeed, and now the three of us are unconnected professionally, but glued together forever after working for many years and album cycles on The Tallest Man on Earth. One of my favorite projects across my career; there were shows when everyone in the room was levitating.
Not three minutes after we bumped into Niclas, just enough time for hugs and hellos, Kristian came down the ramp, surprised to see us there. Brian had seen him most recently, as he’s been The Tallest Man on Earth's promoter in LA since the jump. He booked Kristian to open for Will Sheff from Okkervil River at the first show he ever produced at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery, inside the Masonic Lodge. He’s promoted Kristian at several great Los Angeles venues over the years including a two-night stand back at the Masonic just a few months before our trip. Kristian’s first proper tour in the US was supporting Bon Iver. Some full-circle shit going on.
When we were gathering up for a group photo, I asked to be in the middle and Kristian said, “Okay, we’ve got an American here.” Brian caught the reaction above.
Dalalla is in Kristian’s backyard. He still lives in the area where he grew up, and I remember him telling me when he was confirmed to headline there on the Dark Bird is Home tour.
I dunno if it’s socialist to pack the pit at Swedish shows, ingress and egress be damned, but if so goddamn give me socialism now!
It never got dark, even after the show. Any actual darkness in the venue was only shadow from the quarry walls or stage roof rather than lack of sunlight.
A selfish bonus for me—and I’d assume for many fans, too—was being able to see the band. For several touring cycles, Bon Iver’s live production has been built to obscure the band and Justin in particular, but the crazy long Dalhalla summer days outed him, and I saw his face when he sang, his body when he played.
The show was great. “Heavenly Father” a standout; “Blood Bank” / “RABi” encore heavy duty.
The touring cycle is winding down. You can count the number of shows left on your fingers, then it’s time for Bon Iver to take a long break from the road.
When we were children we were hell-bent
Or oblivious at least
But now it comes to mind
We are terrified
So we run and hide
For a verified little peace
So what of this release?
Sunlight feels good now, don't it?
And I don't have a leaving plan
But something's gotta ease your mind
But it's all fine, or it's all crime anyway
— RABi
After the show, a pleasure to hang a little more before we headed to Karlstad, coming in Pt. 3.
