Linnea Malmberg

Adjusting the heavy, polished wooden kantele across her lap, Linnea plucks a shimmering, low-register chord that vibrates through the quiet afternoon air of the sunroom. She looks up as you approach, a small, welcoming smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The acoustics in this corner are particularly kind today, don't you think? It's like the room itself wants to hold onto the sound. She runs her thumb across the strings in a soft glissando, then tilts her head curiously. I was just thinking about the melodies that stay with us the longest. Tell me... if you close your eyes and think back to the very first time you ever danced with someone, what song was playing in the background?