Nordic Spirit
Written for a concert featuring Nielsen’s Violin Sonata No. 1, Karólína Eiríksdóttir’s Flute Reel, Saariaho’s Tocar, and Grieg’s String Quartet No. 1.
Nordic Spirit
Denmark’s location and political power have resulted in it having the most “European” of the Scandinavian musical traditions. At least since the 16th century, the Danish monarchy was importing musicians from Germany, Italy, and France, while simultaneously establishing training programs to foster local talent.
Perhaps the most celebrated of Danish composers is Carl Nielsen. A professional trumpeter and violinist, Nielsen eventually joined the Royal Chapel Orchestra as a member of the Second Violin section. His composition career was slower to develop, but his music was eventually recognized for its emotional power, melodic scope, and harmonic richness, as well as for reflecting his lifelong fascination with human psychology.
Nielsen’s Violin Sonata No. 1 exemplifies the yearning struggle of the young composer’s style and left critics unsettled by its abrupt shifts and unexpected harmonic changes. The searching first movement, for example, opens with a melody that finds itself unable to remain in the same key for more than two measures at a time. The hymnlike second movement more solemnly embraces this fluid approach to tonality, and the finale juxtaposes three themes of contrasting character which persist in the quest for harmonic stability until a dramatic conclusion firmly cuts the search short.
After the premiere, one critic wrote that “this sonata should be furnished with the appropriate explanation for the uninitiated.” The audience, however, responded favorably, and Nielsen remained fond of the work throughout his life, even having it performed on his gala 60th birthday concert.
Geographic isolation has granted Iceland perhaps the most distinctive musical tradition of the Nordic countries. Despite a storied musical tradition with deep social roots, the European classical tradition arrived late to this culture—the first Icelandic classical composers appeared in the late 19th century, and the nation didn’t experience its first orchestral concert until 1921!
One consequence of this delayed admission to the classical club is that Icelandic composers bypassed many of the aesthetic debates of the European tradition, and Icelandic classical music has more thoroughly integrated itself with popular music and culture than its continental or American counterparts. Many Icelandic composers, such as Jóhann Jóhannsson and Hildur Guðnadóttir (composer of the Oscar-winning score to the film Joker) move seamlessly and unselfconsciously between genres in ways that can make them difficult to categorize. Karólína Eiríksdóttir, for instance, has composed works ranging from traditional orchestral pieces to music video installations like The Constitution of the Republic of Iceland and Your Country Does Not Exist—both of which were featured at the Venice Biennale and in Italian Vogue.
In Flute Reel, Karólína (“Eiríksdóttir” is a patronymic; Icelanders rarely use a family name) infuses the two sections of the traditional reel dance with contrasting musical concepts— one bouncy and energetic, the other more lyrical—which, as is typical in a reel, are then repeated with more elaboration and ornamentation.
While Finland isn’t Scandinavian, it was long ruled by Sweden, and its culture shows this influence. A long struggle characterized by an outpouring of nationalist art, literature, and music finally led to Finland’s independence (from Russia) in 1917, but it wasn’t until after World War II that the nation was truly secure in its sovereignty.
Kaija Saariaho belongs to a generation of composers born after the fight for independence, and her music shows a strong national identity with an international outlook. Saariaho’s works frequently feature rich, complex sonic textures, and she has spoken of how music stimulates all of her senses, not just her hearing: “Shades of color, or textures and tones of light, even fragrances and sounds blend in my mind.”
When asked to compose a test piece for the semifinalists of the Sibelius Violin Competition, Saariaho began by contemplating the relationship between the violin and piano. “One of my first ideas for Tocar,” she said, “was a question: How could they touch each other?” (The Spanish word “tocar” means both to play an instrument and to touch.)
In Tocar, both instruments move forward independently, but they also keep an eye on each other. I imagine a magnetism becoming stronger and stronger—the piano part becomes more mobile—which draws the violin texture towards the piano writing, culminating in an encounter in unison. After this short moment of symbiosis, the violin line is released from the measured piano motion and continues its own life outside the laws of gravity.
Like Finland, Norway was ruled for centuries by the Swedes, and its music, art, and literature fed a lengthy political struggle that eventually achieved Norwegian independence in 1905. The most prominent Norwegian composer from this period is Edvard Grieg. Grieg’s music and life were permeated by the spirit of Norwegian culture and identity. Like Henrik Ibsen and other Norwegian artists, he was fascinated by Norwegian folklore, and legends of trolls and mountain spirits make frequent appearances in his music, much of which was composed at Troldhaugen (“Troll Hill”), the home he built on the outskirts of his native Bergen.
Grieg’s First String Quartet was composed while he was living on a farm in Hardanger, in the wooded countryside east of Bergen. The work is notable for its thick textures, which require the performers to play extensively on two or more strings simultaneously. The First Quartet was “not designed to peddle trivialities,” wrote Grieg. “It aims at breadth, soaring flight, and above all, resonance for the instruments.”
A melody from Grieg’s song “Spillemænd” (“Fiddlers”) serves as the principal theme of all four movements, binding the work together. The Ibsen text on which “Spillemænd” was based explores the tale of the fossegrim, a troll from Norwegian folklore. The fossegrim lives in rivers and offers to grant supplicants virtuosic abilities on the violin—but only at the price of their eternal personal happiness.
Copyright © 2020 Chris Myers. All rights reserved. Unauthorized distribution or reproduction prohibited.