Indigenous musician Laura Ortman—who is White Mountain Apache, originally from East Fork, Arizona—can still remember when she fell in love with the violin. She was only seven, but even then, growing up just outside of St. Louis, she could recognize its escapist power.
“I had a really good teacher, and playing gave me my own little universe to express myself and forget everyday life,” says Ortman. “My grandma also played violin, and she always had a smile on her face when she played, even though she’d been through a lot in her life.”
Flash forward to today, and Ortman is now a leading contemporary violinist in Brooklyn, where she has been based since 1997. The rhythms of the city have helped to shape her signature sound, one that fuses classical technique with a more contemporary, transcendent spirit. “Living in New York really has influenced me,” says Ortman. “It’s just crazy loud and full of life. I live over the subways—the subway sounds are a big muse of mine.”
No two Ortman performances are alike: At each stage show, the artist tries to evoke a different feeling or mood, allowing her music to ebb and flow where needed. (She also plays on the same violin that she has had since her teenage years.) “I have all these scores or passages in my head, and I never know what’s going to come out,” she says. “I never wanted to be one of those violinists in a practice room trying to play the perfect concerto. The more experimental I got, the more I realized that my music could get me into the future.”
Naturally, another big inspiration for her music is her own Indigenous heritage and upbringing. During her early violin studies, Ortman also learned how to play the Apache violin—her tribe’s own bowed string instrument, made from the stalk of agave plants. Perfecting her craft on the Apache violin allowed her to embrace the beauty of a rawer and more organic sound, which still drives her craft today. “It has one string on it, and a little bow—it’s sweet,” says Ortman. “It has a really small, earthy sound.”
Another distinctive element of Ortman’s artistry? Her inimitable style. For her stage performances, the musician favors an eclectic and eccentric color palette. Her wardrobe staples include vivid tops, Indigenous-made jewelry, and sequin mini skirts built for movement. “When I perform, I feel like I have to move—I have to dance—so I need something that’s perfect for hopping around,” she says.
She enjoys finding pieces for her performances at thrift or vintage stores, whether in New York or when she is traveling on tour. (In Brooklyn, she frequently hits up Salvation Army or Goodwill.) “I’m a big thrift store junkie,” she says. “Ever since I was little, I was always trying to borrow my friends’ clothes. I always liked their clothes better than mine.” Most recently, she was on the hunt for the perfect white leather jacket, which she found while playing shows out in Texas.
Occasionally, her fellow Indigenous artist friends will create special pieces for her performances, too. Last year, to play at the Venice Biennale, she sported a custom fringed dress by Jeffrey Gibson, who was there representing the US. She has also donned graphic earrings by Dyani White Hawk, a fellow museum darling.
Ortman has a busy year ahead, with a show set at Carnegie Hall in April with the acclaimed Kronos Quartet. “I’m going to be writing all the music for that, which I’m so excited about,” she says. “I’m going to be representing Indigenous sound, artistry, and experimentalism. I want to make it super positive—super festive, bright, and happy.” All adjectives that could describe her closet, too.
