Salsa for Karen, dedicated to my special violin muse, is the origin of the whole suite. From a concert in Klint in Denmark, where Karen played part of the Sibelius Violin Concerto, as well as the Flight of the Bumblebee by Rimsky-Korsakov, came the idea to write a salsa, especially for Karen. I understood that it would be possible to catch both rhythm and spirit in the salsa music through her capacity, and felt a certain excitement building up inside. We never talked about this at the time, but later I suggested the idea by email, and received the reply "Go for it!" From this point musical scores went to and fro between Sweden and San Francisco, and the suite came to life. The Afro-Cuban music is very much my musical identity. In our world music band Mondo Muziko we often play both salsa and Afro music for multicultural dancing. This is music for joy and togetherness that crosses borders and limitations, and offers a generous and warm experience of love. Salsa music moves your feet and hips and it was not until my 40-year crisis made me buy a drum set that I fully found this joy as a musician.

Flamenco Alojera emanates from a strange recognition of the Spanish temperament and culture within me. Maybe the contrasts in the dramatic mountain view over the little village Alojera, on the Canarian island Gomera, is similar to the ups and downs of this music. So the music was formed after a holiday in the Gomeran mountains. Another association is from a period of my life where I lived in a flat in Stockholm, with an American blues singer Eric Bibb and his Spanish wife Magalida in the flat below, and a Spanish flamenco singer Rogelio in the flat above. So the music was all around, and the rhythm of the flamenco clapped and tapped through the floor with the heartbreaking improvisations of Rogelio's voice on top and Eric's below, shaping my dreams at night and growing seeds of hot passion and mellow blues into my cool Scandinavian blood. Often when I play some lyric Scandinavian folk music, I suddenly find the music changing into burning Spanish rhythms and scales. Where did this Spanish blood come from?

Ziga dance is dedicated to my Bosnian friends Enes Ziga (folk musician) and his wife, Elsa Ziga (folk dancer). Enes has a beautiful voice and can sing mellow ballads from the Balkans all night. These folk songs are influenced by Arabic scales, and the 7-beat rhythm is common in this music. We have made several concerts together (one at the Siljan festival) where the audience would dance in a circle, the Swedes trying to get their hambo, and polska feet to catch up with the elegant Bosnian dancers. Sometimes beautiful belly dancers from Iraq would join the musicians on stage (very difficult for musicians to concentrate on playing though). The light theme is inspired by a Macedonian folksong. This fusion of international music and dance in the Leksand community has meant a lot for the integration of 150 Bosnian refugees in our little Swedish society during the period of war in Yugoslavia.

Jig for Alan is dedicated to my father in law, half British, quarter Scottish and quarter Irish, with a deep interest in music. The Jig is inspired by a magical evening in Danish Skagen. Landing with our little sailing boat on a nice summer evening after sailing all day from Gothenborg, Sweden, we went to a music bar, Visekrogen, to see if some Danish folksingers were on stage. To our surprise it was an Irish evening, with an Irish singer and his band of banjo, violin and pennywhistles. Being the first long trip for Alan in a time of deep personal crisis due to serious illness in near family, this was like paradise. The jigs and reels moved faster and higher and the Danish beer moved down in the warm, family-like atmosphere. This was the climax of a wonderful sailing holiday between Sweden and Denmark that even musically took us way out west to the greens of Ireland.

Redhaired Tango emanates from a childhood memory of a school dance in the huge school auditorium. I was eight years old, deeply in love with the red-haired girl in the class. Gathering courage, it took several hours before I dared go across the endless floor to ask her for a dance. She said "Yes". And guess what the band played? TANGO! My dance lessons had not reached beyond valse and jitterbug, so I struggled through the dance, to the sacrifice of my partner's feet. My childhood's many unhappy but passionate romantic feelings are well symbolized by the temperament of the tango music.

Rhumba de la Luna was actually composed during a night of full moon. I'm not sure of the origin of the inspiration, but I guess the mellow tone is about loneliness in the night. But there is hope and love in the air as well. The secret of the moon resides deep in our subconscious, with our roots and shadows of the past. Maybe these roots go way back in time to our common African roots: the origin of man. So the Afro-Cuban rhythmic glow gives a sharp edge to the lunar softness.

        Ole Pullar Saxe,  2000