We said goodbye to the Viking Star this morning and checked into our hotel in Bergen. We have two days on our own before we leave for home. Now it was time for us to venture out, independent of tour buses and groups. We hopped onto Bergen’s light rail train for the town of Hop (pronounced hoop) and a one-mile walk to the home of Norway’s greatest composer, Edvard Grieg.
Grieg and his wife Nina selected a site on Nordås Lake, south of Bergen, to build their home in 1885. Troldhaugen, meaning ‘valley of trolls,’ was the name Grieg chose based on local children’s legends about the countryside near the home site.
Jane and I had the place practically to ourselves today. The museum office said that only five tourists had visited the museum the whole day. We had a private tour of the residence and had a wonderful opportunity to talk with the guide about Grieg’s life, friendship with other composers, and his influence on Norway’s national identity.
Grieg was one of those lucky few great composers who were appreciated and celebrated during their lifetimes. His 60th birthday was a day of national celebration. The government gave him a yearly stipend to support his creative endeavors, and he toured extensively despite his poor health. Troldhaugen was his summer home for 35 years; he was on concert tours during the other months of the year.
Grieg built a small “composing hut” down the hill from the house, where he could work a few hours every day in relative quiet, away from the home’s frequent visitors. It’s a small building with a spinet piano, a desk, and a day bed — and a beautiful view of the lake.
If you turn around 180° from looking at the hut, you face an odd building that’s partially buried in the hillside and covered with a sod roof. There’s no hint of what it is from the outside. But if you go to the top of the hill and enter the building from the museum side, you see that it’s a stunning recital hall! It was built in 1985 and hosts a regular concert series beginning in May.
Of all the sketches, paintings, busts, photos, hats, walking sticks, and other mementoes in the house and museum, there were a few in particular that caught my eye. First, I always enjoy looking at manuscripts written in a composer’s own hand. Here’s his manuscript to the opening of “Anitra’s Dance” from Peer Gynt:
Grieg kept a “lucky frog,” made of rubber, in his pocket to help center himself before performances. You can purchase replicas of the frog in the gift shop!
Finally, his conductor’s baton. I told the guide that I was particularly curious how Grieg — who had a collapsed left lung because of pleurisy and tuberculosis, and a deformed spine from his collapsed lung — could possibly have dealt with the physical exertion of conducting a large orchestra. She said it was because he felt he had to do it, that the music was something larger than himself and important to his nation’s spirit.
I felt very fortunate to have spent the afternoon at Troldhaugen. It was such a pleasant respite from the bustle of groups over the past several weeks. And it was so heartwarming to be in a place that held such positive, happy, creative energy. You could feel the power of art, love, and friendship in every corner.
