Downtown Minneapolis clubs wouldn't book black musicians in the late 1960s. Then Dean Constantine threw open the doors to the Foshay Tower.
Constantine's King Solomon's Mines club made a splash as the only downtown club at the time to allow local black bands, cranking out rhythm and blues. The short-lived business was a small part of Constantine's long career as a dance instructor, but it enshrined him in Twin Cities music history.
"It was exciting, thrilling. You were downtown," said Herman Jones, drummer in the Exciters, a band that played at King Solomon's. "You were in the ultimate. You were in the now. For us, it was a way of being showcased."
Constantine, who lived in Minnetonka, died Sept. 23 after complications from a fall. He was 86.
From living rooms and country clubs to community education classes, Constantine kept Twin Cities residents light on their feet for five decades as one of the most prominent dance teachers in the area. He taught thousands the basics, as well as how to keep up with the latest dance crazes.
"Disco, that was his heyday," said his daughter Deanna Constantine, who took over the family business, now known as Constantine Dance Classes. "He and my mom would sometimes have two and three hundred people in a single class wanting to learn how to do that 'Saturday Night Fever' line dance."
Racial tensions were high in the Twin Cities in 1966 when he opened King Solomon's at the foot of the Foshay. The club became a hotbed for local black musicians, drawing diverse crowds.
That rhythm and blues was the foundation for what later became the Minneapolis Sound, said Eric Foss, co-owner of Secret Stash Records, which recently compiled a history of Twin Cities funk and soul. "They were the only club downtown that would book black talent at the time. And I think the importance of that is massive," Foss said. "I think it's a pretty incredible thing."
Constantine reveled in the sound.
"I don't know how to describe rhythm and blues," he said in 1967. "If you can feel it, you don't need a definition. If you can't feel it, a definition won't help."
But it wouldn't last for long. The city raided the club in 1968 and suspended its license after discovering several minors inside.
Born in Sioux Falls, S.D., Constantine began teaching dance as a summer job while in school at the University of Minnesota. But after meeting his wife, also an instructor at Arthur Murray Dance studio, they turned dance lessons into a family business.
"Before we knew it, everybody wanted dance lessons, and Dean was becoming more well known," said his wife, Mary. Classes ranged from fox trots and waltzes to fads such as the Twist, the Monkey and later country-western.
But Constantine's legacy won't be limited to dancing. In the 1980s, he allowed Steven Schussler to transform a St. Louis Park home they shared — but Constantine owned — into a jungle to showcase for investors a concept restaurant that would ultimately become the Rainforest Cafe.
While Constantine, then separated from his wife, lived in the basement, Schussler packed the house with more than two dozen tropical birds, animatronic animals, two tortoises, 300-gallon fish tanks, and (briefly) a baby baboon. There were simulated rainstorms, and a ceiling was even removed to create waterfalls.
"Dean would come home after work after giving dancing lessons and he would just shake his head," Schussler said. "He didn't know what to do. But he never said no. And he deserves credit, a lot of credit."
Constantine is survived by his wife and four children, Linda, Chrysana, Robert and Deanna, as well as six grandchildren. A celebration of his life is being planned.
