Over Labor Day weekend in 2003, a new music club called Satalla opened up in midtown Manhattan. Branding their club as "The Temple of World Music," Satalla's owners have the stated objective "to help our patrons disconnect from the outside world and to transport them to a fantasy world where the beauty of music is all that is important." They are fulfilling this objective in two ways. First, the venue's design and layout incorporate many unique and intriguing features which distinguish it from any other club in New York City. Second, and most importantly, Satalla is committed to luring the best folk music acts from around the world to come perform. Satalla grabbed my attention by hosting Ireland's Kíla and Finland's Värttinä, arguably the finest contemporary folk bands in their respective countries, in successive weeks in November. Both bands performed two shows, as is generally the case each evening at Satalla. The venue lived up to its billing, as Satalla proved to be an ideal setting to sit back, or sit right up close, and soak in some truly great world music.

The first thing you notice when you enter Satalla is that things inside have an odd glow to them. Objects that don't normally give off light do just that, and not in their normal colors, either. My yellow earplugs glowed a bright violet, for example. Parts of my sneakers shone in multiple colors, while other parts remained dark. Even stranger, the green hue of the butterfly tattoo on the shoulder of the woman sitting at the table next to mine at the Kíla show could be seen from across the club. People hanging out at the bar in bright clothing appeared to be in negative. All the waitresses, in their white tops and black pants, were radiant -- quite literally. Evidently, Satalla uses fluorescent lighting. After a few minutes spent shaking off the disorientation, though, the advantages to this lighting become apparent. The menus are easy to read, even when the regular house lights are dimmed for the performance. Furthermore, since my notepad glowed as well, jotting down little details during the performances themselves turned out to be a piece of cake. The walls are painted a bright orange -- or at least that's the color they appeared to be in the fluorescence - - with multi-colored aquatic images adorning them. However off- putting initially, the Satalla's unrepentant psychedelic ambience successfully creates the right mood for listening to progressive, exotic music.

The floor design, too, boasts some unique features, again evoking some sort of hippie gathering. The stage is elevated only slightly, making the performances very up close and personal. Although small, the stage had enough room for all seven members of Kíla, along with their busload of percussion instruments. The three singers of Värttinä move around comfortably, doing their usual routines with the six instrument players sufficiently behind them. The "tables" immediately in front of the stage have no legs on them, and simply lie flat on the floor. Surrounding these are small, round cushions, instead of chairs. If you like sitting on the floor while the band performs about six inches away from you, then you will love Satalla. Regular tables and chairs surround these front tables and the rest of the stage. Behind these tables, in the back left corner of the club as viewed from the stage, are two slightly elevated levels; the first contains additional tables, while the second contains a big sofa and a few plush chairs. These might be a little too comfortable for viewing live music, but the view from the back corner is more than adequate. In fact, the seating is arranged so that none of the roughly 150 people Satalla can fit will have difficulty seeing the performance. And unlike in many clubs, the tables are not too packed together for people to maneuver around them. The best seats, predictably, are at the front and center table immediately behind the floor cushions. However, for the second Värttinä set, I felt compelled to go directly up front, to see if the immediate proximity to the stage justifies any strain on the neck that may occur. For the right performer, it does.

Having previously seen and been blown away by both Kíla and Värttinä, I knew what to expect from them, and neither band disappointed. The sound was mixed significantly more cleanly for the Värttinä concert, although that likely had more to do with the bands' sound engineers than with the venue itself. The lighting made Satalla a bit brighter than most venues are kept during a performance, but the brightness did not inhibit either the performances, or the audience's ability to enjoy them. Satalla serves the usual assortment of food and drink, along with some dinner options as well. The price and quality of the food are not outstanding, but still better than average for a New York City club. The best feature of the evenings, unfortunately not typical of other local concert venues where the performers play two sets in a night, was that Satalla allows ticket holders from the first set to stick around for the second. Everyone benefits from this policy; the club gets more money in food and drinks, the fans get another ninety minutes of music on the house, and the performers don't play to empty seats during the 10 o'clock set.

Satalla will continue hosting an eclectic global mix of performers well into the new year, and hopefully far beyond that as well. With several days still open as this is being written, January's line-up of shows already includes Tuvan throat singers Huun-Huur-Tu, Basque accordionist Kepa Junkera, a night of Mexican performers, Ghana native Obbo Addy, and the American klezmer band The Klezmatics. Open- minded listeners will find a great deal to choose from, and even people with very specific tastes should conceivably find something to their liking. And whether "disconnecting from the outside world" means sitting right up front or chilling out on the couch in the back, they will have little difficulty enjoying their evening at Satalla.

[Scott Gianelli]

For pictures of the Värttinä performance at Satalla, click here.