The Opposite of Cold - The Northwoods Finnish Sauna Tradition by Michael Nordskog 2010

First published in 

First published in
The Hillsider, Duluth, MN

The Opposite of Cold - The Northwoods Finnish Sauna Tradition, written by Michael Nordskog, should be added to that small but impressive list of books examining facets of everyday life most people take for granted. Books such as Cod by Mark Kurlansky or Longitude by Dava Sobel, jump-start the ordinary into the sublime.   When you put this book down you will all but feel the sauna’s heat.

Aaron Hautala’s stunning color photographs help tell this delightful story about saunas old and new, inside and out, in pristine woodland or on the lakeshores of Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan and Finland.  There are also historical photos, advertisements and paintings.  Some of Hautala’s best photos are of Minnesota’s immigrant Finnish farmsteads with saunas, from the late 19th century.  There’s even an early Time magazine article leery about Finnish saunas, speculating they were up to witchcraft in those little wooden huts.  

Saunas are the perfect adaptation to living in a cold climate. Many contend it’s a therapeutic treatment for many ailments and were commonly used as a birthing room.  David Salmela, Duluth architect, says in the book’s foreword, “In 1902 my father was born in a sauna that stood next to Pike River…in northern Minnesota.”  He sums up: “The physics of water thrown on hot rocks turning to steam to clean the pores, ease the stress of the day, and enhance enjoyment of the open night air.”

Judging from the photos, sitting in a sauna isn’t the most elegant looking past time. However there’s a redeeming flourish reserved for those with lakeside sauna’s:  running out of the pore cleansing heat into the lake, making a big splash, even more dramatic in cooler weather.

Arnold R. Alanen’s introduction, called “The Sign of the Finn,” offers a key pronunciation tip: “The first syllable of sauna rhymes with pow!” As you leaf through the book the orange, red and woody browns are the predominant color of the photos, imparting glowing visual warmth. In the chapter on North American Lakeside Tradition naturalist Sigurd Olson describes his love of sauna at his lakeside cabin:

“…Toward evening all was in readiness.  We opened the door and the bathhouse smelled as it should, rich with the pungence of burning, odors of hot logs and of many saunas of the past.  We stripped and took our places on the lower bench...” 

Cabins of Minnesota

First published in The Hillsider, Duluth, MN

Cabins of Minnesota is a compact 128-page book of color photographs published by the Minnesota Historical Society Press, 2007. This seemingly simple book prompts us to slip from clamorous modernity to the summertime shores of a Minnesota lake, within sight of a weathered dock, water lapping the posts. Or to a cabin deep in a pine forest on a crisp autumn morning, the tiny icebox and stove waiting for us to start the bacon sizzling, coffee brewing, flapjacks bubbling.

These cabins of Minnesota are far removed from more typical magazine or book depictions of upscale retreats that never look lived in. Instead, we find the comfortably quirky, paint peeling, cobbled together, one-of-a-kind, mostly humble cabins at peace with their surroundings.

Doug Ohman’s photographs are as straightforward and comfortable as the cabins. He captures the warp and woof of this culture, such as cabin owner signs like horizontal totem poles, paying homage to well-lived lives. Or old yard chairs at water’s edge, with a feel of a church pew before service.

Coupled with Ohman’s photographs, Bill Holm’s sensitive narrative is part philosophy, part cabin living basics, part small bit of interesting personal history. He makes magic with this reticent subject, and together with Ohman, they create The Cabin Fugue, a metaphor for their examination of cabin life from many variations (one variation is the richness of making music while at cabin).

Holms shares the wisdom of international visionaries starting with Thoreau:
Here, embedded in Walden, is the credo of the cabin, of American idealism, of the “meaning of life.” Even Americans who have never read Thoreau hear the echo of this passage in their inner ear or their conscience. Here is Henry:

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to confront only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

A chapter is devoted to Ernest Carl Oberholtzer. Oberholtzer helped preserve the lands and waterways that became Voyageurs National Park and Boundary Waters Canoe Wilderness Area. He started building his Rainy Lake cabins in the 1920s. They are lovingly described and photographed, inspiring another generation to the great cabin ethos: natural beauty, simplicity, hospitality and music.

Never far from Cabins of Minnesota is the soul of its subject, the wilderness, and water:
"The country around Rainy Lake and Lake of the Woods’ give the illusion that you are the first to set foot on that ground. When you fly over this section of the state in a small plane on a moonlit night, you see perhaps one lonesome narrow road threading its way through the dark woods, but a multitude of lakes, ponds, sloughs, marshes glittering in the moonlight. In the dark spaces between the water live wolves, bears, moose, bobcats, deer, coyotes, more of them than of us, I hope. And cabins."

The places named sing of cultural influences from more optimistic and lyrical times Clearwater Lake, Cry of the Loon Resort, Wigwam Bay, Lake Irene, Koochiching County, Mille Lacs, Rum River.

The book’s size and layout are light and comfortable in the hand. It is printed on acid-free paper and is sturdily stitched. The only unappealing production note is that this very paean to Minnesota ingenuity was printed in China.

Ohman and Holm are born teachers. This book captures the heart and soul of the Minnesota cabin tradition and why such places matter.