To start with, Rørosmartnan is not just a folk dance and music festival. It is a full out market that takes over the town. There are craft booths and food booths and craft-food booths, guys selling fancy drills, lots of reindeer skins, and endless sausages, waffles, cocoa, and gløgg. Then there are concerts and dances on top of all that.
I arrived on Tuesday on the same train as Tom Sears who kindly pointed me up the hill to the cafe where my host was working that evening. I dragged my suitcase up past the church and met Sylvia. She gave me some cocoa and the directions to her house and off I went. I left my fiddle at the cafe because it was a long walk and I planned on heading out again.
I made it Sylvia's house, figured out which mattress on the floor was designated for me (she had eight people staying there) and headed back into the snowy evening. I walked past the cafe on my way to the hotel, so I picked up my fiddle, just in case. I was on my way to hear SVER play for dancing! I got to the hotel before they started and happened across them sitting in the lobby bar discussing their set list. I sat with the guys for a few minutes while I thawed and they got organized.
Playing for dancing at a hotel is not really very easy. First, they were playing in the bar, so most of the audience was sloshed. Then there was the large pillar in the middle of the dance floor which cuts down on maneuverability. Third is the floor itself was a typical concrete/tile job, so there weren't very many serious folk dancers taking part in the evening's festivities. I stayed content with listening to them play and taking a few photos. I was also exhausted and left when they took their break.
The next day, and every day, the middagsdans (mid-day dance) began at noon in Sangarhuset. Anyone who's been dancing in Norway knows that it's difficult to get a dance partner if you don't know anyone. Dance etiquette in Norway also indicates that once you're one the floor with someone it's polite to keep dancing with that person four or five dances (more if you're really enjoying it) and then suggest that you take a break after the next dance (or if a waltz or polka is being played). Fortunately, I knew two or three people that first day and that was enough to keep me moving most of the time.
Even if you're not dancing, in Røros it's fascinating just to watch the dancers on the floor. People come from all over Norway and Sweden (and we're a few Americans) to dance pols to the best Røros bands; you probably own their CD's - Glåmos spelmannslag, Småviltlaget, Brekken spelmannslag, Dalakopa. Sitting on the sidelines, you can see variations in all parts of the dance - and in four days of dancing there's plenty of variation to watch.
It's hard to choose what the most exciting part of dancing in Røros is. Is it the extremely high level of dance skill that almost everyone has? Dancing primarily pols for four days? Swirling around the dance floor like a school of sardines? The fabulous music? Dancing with friends? Dancing with friends you didn't expect to see? Dancing seven to ten hours a day without getting tired?
For me, the best experiences are those shared with people. That's one of the reasons I think dancing is so fantastic. One evening I was dancing with my friend Bjørn Sverre, who is a fabulous dancer with a lot of bounce in his style. I so admire his dancing that it was thrilling just do dance with him. But why was it so wonderful? One of my greatest joys is trusting the person I'm dancing with enough to give in completely and follow him (and the music) all over the dance floor. Bjørn Sverre commands this kind of respect and has earned my trust. He also leads so well that I find myself learning from him while we dance. There are so many ingredients that go in to making dance-magic!
The museum holds mid-day concerts. I went to 'Olav Mjelva and friends' which was of course excellent. And Bjørn Sverre gave a tour of Norway's bunads (he is fantastic to listen to, as well). I also saw SVER play packed into a tiny cafe with tons of fans; naturally jamming broke out afterward.
One evening I found myself in Kaffistuggu, thanks to Bjørn Sverre and an abundance of time. Kaffistuggu is an institution in Røros. It is a two story cafe with food and beer and lots of small spaces for musicians to play. And that is what happens during Martnan. The line can stretch for hours while people wait for enough space to get in. People packed close together, jam sessions pressing against one another like a car full of balloons. Walking through (if possible) one hears music on all kinds of instruments from accordion to hardingfele, played by everyone from local heroes to Swedens biggest stars.
The evening dances in Sangarhuset were essentially a continuation of the midday dances. On Friday night the evening was allowed to stretch until 4am with the much anticipated nattdans (night dance). Saturday's final dance was held at the high school gym, which has much less atmosphere and twice as much (or more) dance floor. It was strange to dance with so much space between the couples after dancing so close together all week. I guess it was a way to start saying good-bye.
When I got home from the dance that night, I fired up the wood stove. The girls I lived with were planning to have a little party to celebrate surviving Martnan - they had worked the whole week. When they got back we grilled hot dogs on the fire and ate candy and chatted. I got the distinct impression of a pack of cats lounging in the sun as we all sat there, exhausted and happy. One by one we started falling asleep and went to bed.
The real end of my Rørosmartnan story is the race to find a place on the train Sunday morning. Several hundred people line up on the platform waiting for the train to arrive and when it does, it is total chaos trying to get luggage and instruments and people onto the waiting train cars as fast as possible. The girls I was travelling home with and I all managed to get seats on the same car, which was a small miracle. Eleven hours later and very tired, we were home in Rauland.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Vinterfestivalen
This past week the school organized and hosted the Rauland internasjonale vinterfestival (vinterkappleiken.com). We had the opportunity to take part in music and art classes, Norsk folkemusikklag seminars, concerts and parties. My class also organized a kappleik (traditional music competition) on Saturday.
I can say with absolute certainty that I have never partied so hard, worked so hard, and learned so much in one week. Especially not all at once. My current level of exhaustion is extreme, but I wouldn't have missed a second of it. In fact, if I could have figured out a way to sleep less, I would have.
The festival got started when the students (and teachers) from Nitra, Slovakia arrived on Monday night. We joined them at at the school for a welcome jam session that lasted until the small hours of the morning. I managed to catch Slovak fever, the cure for which is more Slovakian music and brennevin.
Tuesday was our day to prepare for the kappleik, before the festival really got started. We found the sound equipment and the stage decorations. We made sure we would have enough change in the cash boxes and money for the kappleik prizes. We had time for a walk through of the Saturday events. Then we met the Slovak group for a couple of hours of fiddle exchange before dinner.
After dinner, some of the Slovak students met some of us at Anja's house for tea. Eventually things drifted to her room where the instruments were. Anja jammed with the Slovakians while the rest of us listened and then we drifted back to the living room for another cup of tea. It was time to let Anja sleep, so we headed back to the party at the school, which hadn't quite managed to get off the ground until we showed up.
There were some Norwegians there, including my friend Olav who was teaching one of the music workshops during the festival. He passed his hardingfele around to the other Norwegians and there was lots of nasjonalspel and dancing in the lunchroom. This was clearly not the first time and nor would it be the last. After my stomach gave me a sign that it was time to go to sleep, I dragged myself away from the party and back to bed.
The festival started Wednesday with Olav's workshop. Not very many people showed up, which meant that I had time to attempt to learn the tunes he was teaching. In the afternoon, I took a singing workshop with Hill Romtveit, a local kvedar with an interesting repertoire and a great singing style. The evening event was a concert by the Slovakian and Romanian guest musicians at the local pub. After the concert, they sat in the corner and played and played and played. They played until the pub closed, and we headed back to the school to finish the evenings festivities properly.
On Thursday, I listened to the seminars given for members of the Norsk Folkemusikklag. The theme was 'Toward a common Nordic sound style?' The various lecturers had different opinions with regard to defining the cultural region in reference and the existence or source of a common sound ideal. The day ended with a lecture about dance in The North with respect to the topic at hand and was really quite interesting.
After the lectures and dinner, we all headed back to the pub for another folk music concert. This time with a North Sea focus, Gabriel Fliflet and friends played a whole range of instruments and a variety of styles. After the concert, I found my way into the little room with the Slovakian students and listened to complex ornamentation and rich, full harmony for hours. Occasionally, I dragged Lucia out of our little world and danced while Per Gudmundson played the seductive Swedish pulse of polska on the dance floor behind us. Naturally the party continued long after we got sent home.
Friday morning, bright and early, we tuned our fiddles again for a workshop in music from Shetland. We raced through a pile of tunes with shivers and burls. The afternoon workshop was back to Sweden with Per Gudmundson, followed by a dance workshop taught by Mats Nilsson. I didn't make it to the evening concert (it was the only nap I took all week), but I did manage to get my eyes back open and my dance shoes on in time to dance all evening.
All evening that is, until we closed the school and the teachers wanted us to go home so we could go to sleep. Stine said we could move the party to her place, so we did. Almost the entire festival showed up and crowded into her tiny kitchen and room (it's the same size as mine). Before I even managed to get in the door, there were fiddles out and people were jamming. All of the chairs had been removed because there wasn't room for them. It is so cold here right now, that I'd broken a string on the way up from the school. Fortunately I had an extra and threw myself into the fiddling. When the tunes moved to Shetland, I passed my fiddle off to one of the experts for a while; I got it back when the jam returned to Swedish music. It was a brilliant party, that ended with a lot of drunks, but fortunately, I had gone to sleep before it lost it's shine.
Saturday morning came a little too soon, but it was time for my class to put on a competition, so off I went. There was a lot of running back and forth in the beginning, but on the whole, we managed to pull off what looked like a reasonably organized competition. The judges were happy with our system; the competitors seemed at ease or at least not put out by our level of planning. We managed to finish early enough that the judges had time for an hour break before the concert and we were able to announce the winners and finalists in good time before the concert began. I didn't get to hear all of the concert, because I was busy making sure things would be ready for the final prize announcement. I did manage to hear Olav play (magical) and the see the first half of the Slovakians (they played and danced this time!).
After the concert there was dancing. It was easily the best dancing I've done in Norway. Ever. I was completely worn out, but managed to find the energy for terrific teledans, great gammaldans, and perfect polskor. I didn't stay until the end of the night, because I was so tired. I wasn't surprised later when the party came up to my house and I got out of bed to join the fun. Fortunately, it wasn't that much fun and I went back to sleep after about an hour.
We still have to tie up some loose ends, but all in all things went pretty well. On Sunday we cleaned the school. Afterward we had dinner with the remaining guest artists. That party wore long into the evening as well, but was much more relaxing and a perfect way to end a wonderful week.
I can say with absolute certainty that I have never partied so hard, worked so hard, and learned so much in one week. Especially not all at once. My current level of exhaustion is extreme, but I wouldn't have missed a second of it. In fact, if I could have figured out a way to sleep less, I would have.
The festival got started when the students (and teachers) from Nitra, Slovakia arrived on Monday night. We joined them at at the school for a welcome jam session that lasted until the small hours of the morning. I managed to catch Slovak fever, the cure for which is more Slovakian music and brennevin.
Tuesday was our day to prepare for the kappleik, before the festival really got started. We found the sound equipment and the stage decorations. We made sure we would have enough change in the cash boxes and money for the kappleik prizes. We had time for a walk through of the Saturday events. Then we met the Slovak group for a couple of hours of fiddle exchange before dinner.
After dinner, some of the Slovak students met some of us at Anja's house for tea. Eventually things drifted to her room where the instruments were. Anja jammed with the Slovakians while the rest of us listened and then we drifted back to the living room for another cup of tea. It was time to let Anja sleep, so we headed back to the party at the school, which hadn't quite managed to get off the ground until we showed up.
There were some Norwegians there, including my friend Olav who was teaching one of the music workshops during the festival. He passed his hardingfele around to the other Norwegians and there was lots of nasjonalspel and dancing in the lunchroom. This was clearly not the first time and nor would it be the last. After my stomach gave me a sign that it was time to go to sleep, I dragged myself away from the party and back to bed.
The festival started Wednesday with Olav's workshop. Not very many people showed up, which meant that I had time to attempt to learn the tunes he was teaching. In the afternoon, I took a singing workshop with Hill Romtveit, a local kvedar with an interesting repertoire and a great singing style. The evening event was a concert by the Slovakian and Romanian guest musicians at the local pub. After the concert, they sat in the corner and played and played and played. They played until the pub closed, and we headed back to the school to finish the evenings festivities properly.
On Thursday, I listened to the seminars given for members of the Norsk Folkemusikklag. The theme was 'Toward a common Nordic sound style?' The various lecturers had different opinions with regard to defining the cultural region in reference and the existence or source of a common sound ideal. The day ended with a lecture about dance in The North with respect to the topic at hand and was really quite interesting.
After the lectures and dinner, we all headed back to the pub for another folk music concert. This time with a North Sea focus, Gabriel Fliflet and friends played a whole range of instruments and a variety of styles. After the concert, I found my way into the little room with the Slovakian students and listened to complex ornamentation and rich, full harmony for hours. Occasionally, I dragged Lucia out of our little world and danced while Per Gudmundson played the seductive Swedish pulse of polska on the dance floor behind us. Naturally the party continued long after we got sent home.
Friday morning, bright and early, we tuned our fiddles again for a workshop in music from Shetland. We raced through a pile of tunes with shivers and burls. The afternoon workshop was back to Sweden with Per Gudmundson, followed by a dance workshop taught by Mats Nilsson. I didn't make it to the evening concert (it was the only nap I took all week), but I did manage to get my eyes back open and my dance shoes on in time to dance all evening.
All evening that is, until we closed the school and the teachers wanted us to go home so we could go to sleep. Stine said we could move the party to her place, so we did. Almost the entire festival showed up and crowded into her tiny kitchen and room (it's the same size as mine). Before I even managed to get in the door, there were fiddles out and people were jamming. All of the chairs had been removed because there wasn't room for them. It is so cold here right now, that I'd broken a string on the way up from the school. Fortunately I had an extra and threw myself into the fiddling. When the tunes moved to Shetland, I passed my fiddle off to one of the experts for a while; I got it back when the jam returned to Swedish music. It was a brilliant party, that ended with a lot of drunks, but fortunately, I had gone to sleep before it lost it's shine.
Saturday morning came a little too soon, but it was time for my class to put on a competition, so off I went. There was a lot of running back and forth in the beginning, but on the whole, we managed to pull off what looked like a reasonably organized competition. The judges were happy with our system; the competitors seemed at ease or at least not put out by our level of planning. We managed to finish early enough that the judges had time for an hour break before the concert and we were able to announce the winners and finalists in good time before the concert began. I didn't get to hear all of the concert, because I was busy making sure things would be ready for the final prize announcement. I did manage to hear Olav play (magical) and the see the first half of the Slovakians (they played and danced this time!).
After the concert there was dancing. It was easily the best dancing I've done in Norway. Ever. I was completely worn out, but managed to find the energy for terrific teledans, great gammaldans, and perfect polskor. I didn't stay until the end of the night, because I was so tired. I wasn't surprised later when the party came up to my house and I got out of bed to join the fun. Fortunately, it wasn't that much fun and I went back to sleep after about an hour.
We still have to tie up some loose ends, but all in all things went pretty well. On Sunday we cleaned the school. Afterward we had dinner with the remaining guest artists. That party wore long into the evening as well, but was much more relaxing and a perfect way to end a wonderful week.
Birthday
Last Saturday was my birthday. In an effort to get prepared, I baked two cakes (well one cake and brownies) on Friday. Ok, the cake didn't really bake so much as rise up out of the pan and get burned while remaining completely liquid in the center. I made the decision to rescue the party by making a new cake, learning from the lessons of the first one.
On Saturday, I made cake. And Birgit made cake. And Mona brought cake. Eventually we had six cakes and ice cream to complement the dinner I made.
Dinner was deviled eggs, a couple of quiches, rice, and salad. I'd invited roughly eight of my friends for dinner and everyone else for dessert and party afterward. For me the highlight of the evening was sitting at the head of the table while everyone stood and sang the Norwegian birthday song!
The party continued until long into the night. We played games. We played fiddles. I got to talk to lots of people. It was a lovely way to spend my birthday, even though I missed my family and Seattle friends.
On Saturday, I made cake. And Birgit made cake. And Mona brought cake. Eventually we had six cakes and ice cream to complement the dinner I made.
Dinner was deviled eggs, a couple of quiches, rice, and salad. I'd invited roughly eight of my friends for dinner and everyone else for dessert and party afterward. For me the highlight of the evening was sitting at the head of the table while everyone stood and sang the Norwegian birthday song!
The party continued until long into the night. We played games. We played fiddles. I got to talk to lots of people. It was a lovely way to spend my birthday, even though I missed my family and Seattle friends.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Time to think
This morning (I started writing this a week and half ago) I woke up early to go to work. The advantage of getting up at 6am to wash the floors at the dentist office is that I have time to relax and really wake up before classes start. Today I had time to drink coffee, eat breakfast, and watch the sunrise.
The sunrises here start with the stark contrast of white on blue illuminated by the moon in the pre-dawn. As the sun creeps above the mountains behind me the blues slowly change to shades of pink and lavender, but the snow is always white. Once the sun has finally emerged from it's evening resting place, the blues return; now, the snow is almost blinding in its whiteness.
I appreciate the luxury of time to watch the sunrise in the mornings. I'm able to wake up and gather my thoughts before the day begins. On days when we have singing in classes I'm able to warm up my voice too. If only I could remember this in the evenings so I didn't stay up so late!
The sunrises here start with the stark contrast of white on blue illuminated by the moon in the pre-dawn. As the sun creeps above the mountains behind me the blues slowly change to shades of pink and lavender, but the snow is always white. Once the sun has finally emerged from it's evening resting place, the blues return; now, the snow is almost blinding in its whiteness.
I appreciate the luxury of time to watch the sunrise in the mornings. I'm able to wake up and gather my thoughts before the day begins. On days when we have singing in classes I'm able to warm up my voice too. If only I could remember this in the evenings so I didn't stay up so late!
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