August 16, 2015
From the Great Steppe, we now travel to the middle of Sweden, to a small village about five miles outside the city of Örebro called Tysslinge. In the previous entry we focused on the morin khuur of Mongolia, and now we’ll pause for a little rumination on one of the most dignified and fascinating stringed instruments of Europe, the nyckelharpa.
Without a doubt, the nyckelharpa, sometimes described as the bowed hurdy-gurdy, is positively medieval. Its origins, though debated, seem to date back to at least the middle of the 14th century, and documentation of its use and existence under various names and slight iterations appear in church paintings, early books on music, and relief sculptures, for several hundred years, until the modern era. Primarily, however, evidence suggests that the nyckelharpa was an instrument that flourished mainly in small villages of the Swedish region of northern Uppland. The nyckelharpa is a “keyed fiddle,” and quite large. Played with a bow and held with a strap around the neck, the instrument today has 16 strings and 37 keys. The keys are pressed as a player bows, hence the hurdy-gurdy comparison. Except the nyckelharpa has 12 sympathetic strings and 1 drone string giving it a unique sound when its 3 melody strings are bowed. Now firmly part of the Swedish folk tradition, today it is the Swedish national instrument, even found on the printed kronor.
Swedish folk music was certainly recorded in the 78 rpm era, though it was not the main output of Sweden’s recording industry and can be devilishly difficult to find, even in Sweden. In terms of early recorded music from the country, including the output of Swedish-Americans, fiddle, nyckelharpa, and bagpipe tunes are nearly completely absent – most what you find are the enjoyable, light-hearted comic tunes with accordion. The songs we’ll present today are quite different, and truly shine a light on the early folk tradition in Scandinavia. I’ve always thought that, not unlike the hardanger fiddle tradition of Norway, Swedish folk music has almost a wistful, yet stately and regal quality – almost baroque – that is thoroughly beautiful. Traditional music can be both “folk” and refined.
It is Tysslinge where Erik August Sellin was from. Born in 1869, Sellin was actually a multi-instrumentalist, playing besides the nyckelharpa, the clarinet, accordion, and violin. He lived portions of his life in Stockholm, with travel to the U.S. and to Berlin as a touring musician, though apparently the tours were not as successful as he’d hoped. He did, however, record several nascent examples of nyckelharpa folk music for Odeon, and for the Gramophone Company, in 1912 and 1913, respectively. This piece (link below), recorded in Stockholm on August 12, 1913, is a medley of two tunes, “Tysslingevalsen” (Waltz from Tysslinge) and “Hopparvalsen” (Jumping Waltz). Bowed instruments can sound so distant on these early recordings, even in perfect condition. I am sure well-seasoned Excavated Shellac readers have the innate ability to hear magic through the fog.
The nyckelharpa has evolved and changed in its construction. Sellin’s instrument was found in an attic, and dated from the mid-1800s. It’s a type known as a silverbasharpa which he made changes to, increasing the number of keys from 20 to 29, increasing the keys’ notes, adding a layer of rosin that acted as insulation against the rattling of the keys, modifying the bow to increase elasticity, and also adding a piece of rubber to the “frog” part of the bow, so he could play pizzicato. Sellin died in 1937. His life is well documented in a privately published book from 1982, in Swedish, written by Roger Berlin.
Flash forward nearly 40 years. Apart from the scarce early examples, one of the most interesting series containing folkloric music on 78 from Sweden were the occasional discs issued by the Radiotjänst label, run by the Swedish national broadcast company. While most of their releases on 78 were classical, from about 1946 or so, Radiotjänst periodically recorded excellent folk music by the most renowned traditional musicians in the country. Only several dozen of these discs were issued and those don’t exactly grow on trees either, but they constitute a wide array of top performances. Probably the most well-known nyckelharpa musician of the 20th century, Eric Sahlström, was among those captured – on a mere 2 discs, in 1950.
It’s not an exaggeration to say that Eric Sahlström not only revolutionized and popularized the nyckelharpa, but he helped reinvigorate interest in Swedish folk music in general. Born in 1912, Sahlström hailed from Uppland, an area north of Stockholm known for keeping the nyckelharpa tradition alive when it had fallen out of favor. He, too, redesigned the instrument, creating the chromatic version played most commonly today, with 3 rows of keys, augmenting an original design by August Bohlin. Sahlström taught classes, appeared on radio and television, and rekindled interest in the Swedish folk tradition. A soft-spoken, avuncular man, at least in his TV appearances (at the 5:50 mark), he bridged the gap between the older and modern era, while still keeping the roots in place. Today, there is an Eric Sahlström Institute, in Tobo, and his composed works are performed by many. Thanks to him, there is recognition of this rich tradition. He passed away in 1986. This track is one of his own compositions, also known as “Fiddler’s Joy” recorded ca. early 1950.
Eric Sahlström nyckelharpa photo by Karsten Evers.
Image of young Erik Sellin from Roger Berlin’s Allmogespelmannen Erik Sellin (Vintrosa: författaren, 1982).
Label: Gramophone Company
Coupling Number: 587911
Matrix Number: 5115ab
Issue Number: RA 153
Matrix Number: RTJ 2988 A
With thanks to Tony Klein.
For more Sahlström on Radiotjänst there’s Volume 1 of the Secret Museum of Mankind, of course!
December 24, 2009
One country I have not posted any traditional music from is Sweden, and now that the northern hemisphere has passed into winter, and that seemingly unending series of all manner of holidays is upon us, I thought I’d head back to Scandinavia for some authentic folk music from a local 78 label. Additionally, I’ve added a little bonus record this week, but more on that below.
Radiotjänst is the name of the state-run Swedish radio network which began broadcasting in 1925, and began releasing 78s in the late 1930s, many of them folkloric. Today’s selection is a medley of two traditional fiddle pieces for two performers from Sweden’s southernmost region, Skåne (or Scania). Carl-Eric Berndt, on the fiddle (fiol), was from Lund, and began collecting folk songs and melodies from Skåne in the 1920s, with several being published in Sweden in the late 1960s. Accompanying Berndt is Richard Isacson, who is apparently playing the local Skåne fiddle known as the träskofiol, or the clog fiddle. The clog fiddle is a fiddle actually made from a worn wooden shoe (see a photo here). The two tracks here, “Svingedans” (literally “swing dance,” after Mårten Sjöbeck) and the “Polska” (not to be confused with a polka, which is in 2/4) are part of the continuing tradition of folk dance music in southern Sweden. They were recorded January 21, 1950.
Carl-Eric Berndt & Richard Isacson – Svingedans; Polska
In addition, I’ve added a piece from Finland this week. Now, I think you could imagine that it might take considerable convincing for me to post a classic Christmas song. These songs are relentlessly played in virtually every store that opens its doors during this season. At least in my part of the world, they are played at every event, they are used to sell meaningless products, they hammer and hammer and hammer away at you until your wallet is drained and you cease to recognize that you’re supposed to be celebrating. Heaven help you if you don’t happen to be Christian – the pervasive nature of these songs must seem positively bizarre.
Yet, as much as I try to resist, I am struck by how beautiful the well-worn melody of “Silent Night” can sound when played by Ulla Katajavuori, a virtuoso of the Finnish zither, the kantele. The kantele is Finland’s national instrument, and prototypes date back approximately 2,000 years. Traditionally, it is played on the lap.
Ulla Katajavuori was born in 1909 in the coastal town of Rauma and studied kantele under Paul Salminen at the Helsinki Conservatory. She always recorded as a soloist, never as an accompanist, believing that an orchestra would drown the kantele’s intimate qualities. The arrangement for this piece was by her husband, Eero Koskimies. Katajavuori died in 2001. This piece was recorded March 24, 1949.
Thanks to everyone who has continued to visit Excavated Shellac in 2009. Here’s to 2010 – there will be more. Just you wait!
Issue Number: RA 174
Matrix Number: Rtj 3248
Issue Number: 4275
Matrix Number: 1515
Thanks, as always, to TK.
To hear more Ulla Katajavuori, check Volume 5 of the Secret Museum series.