July 22/11 Tribe of One performed at the Islands Folk Festival on Vancouver Island. The following video clips were recorded from the Friday night, main stage performance.

Tribe of One Promotional Photos

Tribe of One features First Nations, Metis, French & English musicians, dancers, painters and slam poets together in one technically innovative, highly adaptable, cross-cultural show that features an amazing blend of Sound, Physical Movement & Dance, Performance Painting, Slam Poetry.

Sound - A fusion of indigenous instruments from cultures around the world creates a thunderous Tribal Sound that blends World-Roots-Funk-Blues

Physical Movement and Dance – Dancers from indigenous cultures combine traditional and modern dance styles, regalia and costumes to transform the stage through colour and movement.

Performance Painting – Audiences are captivated as images and colours emerge from an empty canvas infused with the swirl of music, movement and creative energy on and off the stage.

Storytelling – rich lyrics, slam poetry, instrumental soundscapes and spontaneous stories to transport audiences to a world of imagination and wonder.

Tribe of One’s incredibly positive, groove-heavy, exciting and danceable live performances make them festival favorites. From Festival du Voyageur and the Great Northern Arts Festival in Inuvik, to art galleries and cultural celebrations, Tribe of One engage audiences through every sense simultaneously.

Tribe of One is a group of world-class performers who fuse the rich heritage of Indigenous cultures with modern forms of artistic expression. Featuring First Nations, Metis, French & English musicians, dancers, painters and slam poets. Tribe of One provides painting, dance, music and drumming workshops throughout morning and early afternoon with a multi disciplinary performance at the end of the day.

In addition, Tribe of One also produces a DVD that incorporates the artistic contributions of the students and is presented to the school at the end of the day. The Tribe’s presentation teaches the value of risk taking and the importance of discovering how your unique gifts and abilities not only empower you to invest in your future, but also provide meaningful opportunities for collaboration with others who have different skill sets, backgrounds, beliefs, lifestyles and cultures.

Tribe of One provide all production requirements, sound system and lighting, sound technicians, instruments and equipment..

For additional information, please visit

http://tribeofone.com or email

This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it or call

250-483-4177.

Word on the street:

“In their workshops and in concert, Tribe of One went far beyond entertaining our students (though they did that too.) Their highimpact visit gave a real boost to the fi ne and performing arts in our school, and I shudder to think that we might have missed an amazing opportunity had I been too quick to hit the delete button.”

· Geoff Bueger, Principal, Princess Alexandra School, Hay River, NWT, 2010

Since 2005 Tribe of One has worked with educators to present highly innovative, captivating and engaging workshops for students.

Festival du Voyageur is Western Canada's largest winter festival, held annually in the French Quarter of Winnipeg, Manitoba. Tribe of One played a headline performance on the Riviere-Rouge stage holiday Monday, Louis Riel Day, February 21, 2011.

A short raw video clip from the Tribe of One & Aboriginal School of Dance Showcase.

November 2010

Recording Artist * Producer * Slam Poet

Rik is one of those people who have more visions & ideas  than lives to live them. A socially active artist with an insatiable appetite for creativity and community, Rik has toured to war-torn countries with the United Nations and the Department of Foreign Affairs, traveled to First Nation communities across Canada and been the driving force behind Tribe of One since /98.

Rik has recorded four full-length CDs and been featured on 6 international compilations in addition to producing a variety of other artists. He tours internationally with his band, Tribe of One, as well as a solo artist.

2008-10 he was the host & co-producer for 3 seasons of the Artist Next Door TV series. In July /09 Rik & his wife Zara, a nationally renown tattoo artist, sold their home in Winnipeg and spent a year touring the world with their two kids, Zion & Riel. The tour ranged across the globe from Canada, Hawaii, Malaysia, Australia, New Zealand, Italy, France, Germany, Switzerland, Denmark, Sweden and the U.K. Rik produced an online video series available on youtube called 'Where in the World Are Zion & Riel' documenting the tour.

"Our society seems to relegate risk-taking and adventure to something you do in your early 20's or retirement years. We were excited to embark on the trip of a lifetime as a young family involving with our kids in the adventure," says Leaf, adding, "not only is it possible, it's actually desirable!"

In July 2010 they returned to Canada, choosing to make a new home on Vancouver Island. Rik is currently writing a book about the year of adventure & discovery, touring with Tribe of One and working on a documentary.

This isn’t just ‘based’ on a true story, this is the real thing, I know...I was there.

It was winter 2008, and not just any old winter, but a Canadian prairie winter; nothing between the howling wind and Winnipeg but two bare ass trees just north of Regina. Marie-Josée and I were wheeling our way north, waaaaaayyyyy north, all the way up to Fort St. John, B.C. where the tour was starting. We had four great shows in Fort St. John before heading down to Grande Prairie, Alberta for a double header at Better Than Fred’s.

I’m just speculating, but it seems entirely possible Jeff Foxworthy wrote a lot of his, ‘you might be a red neck’ jokes in Grande Prairie. You ain’t never seen so many 4x4’s and big screen TVs with sports of every size and colour in your life. Anyway…we load our gear into Fred’s while Toby the chef busted out some serious uptown sizzle and whipped us up a meal that will never be on the menu…off the chart cuisine.

About that time the owner volunteered to lead us back to his place, which is also the band house. We wound our way through Grande Prairies downtown following John’s big ass 4x4 and eventually pull up in front of his idyllic suburban home. John lives upstairs but tells us that we’ll get back from the gig before he does, and because it’s so f**ing cold out, he’ll let us park in his driveway so we can plug our Japanese import in. (I know this is supposed to be a slight…like the car I drive is supposed to say something about me, but in -40 all it means to me is that I get to park 30 feet closer to the door)

We chill out, we get ready, we go to Fred’s, play the show, have a couple drinks and head back to the band house. I’m driving and MJ’s chatting away (thankfully in English so I’m actually catching some of what she’s saying) we pull up in John’s driveway. Our plan is for MJ to grab the guitars and hightail it for the door while I plug the car in. As I’m scrambling around in the snowdrifts digging like a mole looking for an electric hole to plug the extension cord in, Marie-Josée is rattling away at the back door with the keys. Eventually I get the car plugged in and join her at the door. Together we’re pulling and pushing on the lock, jingling and jangling the keys, lifting up, pressing down, I’m talking dirty to the door knob…all the crazy shit you do when something’s not working. Then it dawns on me that John might have given us the wrong keys and this set may be for the side door. Piling even more guitars in MJ’s arms I promise to be right back and dash around the side of the house. I get to the side door slip the key in the lock and voila, success! I let myself in, feeling a bit uncomfortable that I’m in John’s place, especially as there is a dog barking somewhere, but as I tiptoe through the kitchen I console myself with the knowledge that this isn’t technically my fault. If he hadn’t given me the wrong keys I wouldn’t be sneaking through his house. At which point I reach the back door and nothing is familiar. There are no stairs where there were when we left, the door opens a different way…and as I open the door to let MJ and 70 pounds of musical gear crash through the door I suddenly realize, ‘we’re in the wrong f**ing house!’

We started giggling, and shushing each other, which made us giggle harder. We tried to sneak out, but were suddenly unable to turn around without banging guitar cases against door frames and boot cupboards. I’m sure are all the deep resonant overtones sounded like Tree Beard and slough of drunken Ents after a kegger.

We get outside when I realize we can’t just run cause our car is parked in the frigging driveway. As I’m struggling to get the keys out of my pocket Conan bursts through the side door. MJ, showing great athleticism I didn’t even know she possessed just…vanished. With his large, He-man body glistening with he-sweat, nostrils flaring like a Stallion he bellows, ‘WHAT THE F#&! ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE!’

At that moment I remembered a sales lecture I sat through right after high school. The gist of the lecture was, most salesmen are men and most of their door to door sales are with the woman of the house. It was a long drawn out boring lecture that involved points like, ‘the man is usually bigger and psychologically may intimidate the woman,’ so whenever possible the salesman was supposed to stand on a lower step than the woman, subconsciously putting her in the dominant role, blah, blah, blah.
This runs through my head as I try to assume the most unimposing, frail, waif-like artistic form, and begin (inexplicably) to talk in a high, womanly register at 100 miles an hour, ‘Oh I’m sorry sir that was me we have the wrong house and it was a total accident and I didn’t mean to walk through your house,’

“WHAT THE F#*! WERE YOU DOING!’

‘It was the keys, the keys; we thought the keys were the wrong keys or the side keys…’

“WHOSE F#*!NG CAR IS THAT!?’

‘That’s my car, I know it’s an shitty import and I should be renting domestic but I was flirting with the girl at the counter for fun and she gave me this upgrade,’

‘WHAT THE F#*! WERE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE! I’M CALLING THE COPS’

I think I was bowing and genuflecting the entire time, making every overture to peace and conciliation I could think of. I backed the car out of Conan’s driveway, pulled in NEXT DOOR, where John actually lived and ran for the door. Of course the keys worked just fine this time and we slipped inside quietly. Neither of us could find the light switch in the entrance way but I headed down the stairs with guitars in both hands as we started to relive the events of the past few minutes in that giddy, post excitement way, which was right about the time I missed the last two steps. Suddenly I took flight, arms outstretched, each clutching a guitar case spread wide like the wings of a majestic swan…until I came down with a sound I’m sure even Conan heard. An Olympic belly flop with a half twist and two droning Ents farumping in each case. Insult, as they say, to injury.

The next day I confess to John what happened. He thinks it’s hilarious and heads down to the club where he proceeds to start telling the staff the story, which is when the bartender says, ‘Oh yeah I heard about that driving to work,’ a confused pause ensued, ‘they were talking about a break and enter on the news, apparently the guy startled the intruders who took off…in a shitty little import.’

Watch the video of Rik's latest spoken word piece, 'What If' recorded as it was 'slammed' throughout the month of September, 2010 during Tribe of One's month long Arctic Tour.

What If…

We believed in dreams like when we were kids

And sticks could be transformed into swords

Weathered boards and cardboard floors into pirate ships

That could sail the seven seas

So we could be hero’s and

Win the kiss from a lady’s lips

Discover buried treasured hidden under the X

What if…

We could see ourselves with our own eyes

And not through those of others

Where seeing is believing and believing is just being

More than a collision of intuition

And the fashionable decision

To be or not to be…cool

What if…

The sins of the father’s didn’t define their sons and the daughters

We were able to peer out from behind

the excuses and abuses

Heal the scars

running through our hearts and minds

And find a future to call our own

And leave their past behind

What if…

We found our voice and in the finding

found a choice

A way to share what’s brought us to this place

And in the telling of our tales transport the ones who hear

To feel what we feel - To see what we see…

And with our colours and sounds

Transform the world to one where our story can be heard ..and we can be found

What if…

We learned about ourselves for ourselves

Taught ourselves so we take our dreams down off the shelves

Define success and failure on our own

Instead of buying into the big idea

That the only way to be our best

Is to be better than the worst in someone else

What if…

I am me and you are you

But we combine our strength and push back against the weight

Of all the sameness that suffocates

Become the exception and not the rule

Raise the sails of our pirate ships

To catch the magic in the wind

Let the freak flag of freedom fly

as we ride the sea again

What if we would…what if we do

what if…that’s what I asked you