Rosin Up That Bow

In an earlier post I made a brief comment about how it is nearly impossible for American's not to laugh at certain words (Norwegian in this case) that sound like a reference to some bodily function. (Festivals)  I have another one.  This one relates to a geographical region of Norway...Hardanger.  I think 99.9% of the world would say, "What? I don't get it."  Well, let me refine my assumption...most American males are chuckling now.

The first time I heard that word I chuckled like a 12 year old boy.  But as I began to see photos of the Hardanger region and fylke, that childish chuckle eventually left (most of it) and was replaced by an awe of the areas beauty.  Now, I have another reason to admire the use of the Hardanger name.

Astri and I attended a Scandi Jam dance workshop last evening.  The various dances are a hoot...a lot of fun...as long as I don't have to spin more than three consecutive times; then the next step in the dance is me picking myself up off the floor.  At one point of the Scandi Jam two young men appeared with Hardingfeler...Hardanger fiddles.

I am not even going to TRY to explain much about their differences, but a line or two here will represent my entire knowledge.  I am posting simply because I was impressed with their beauty and sound.

Having spent most of my life in Texas, listening to a fiddle was tantamount to enjoying the culture.  Watching the likes of artists like Doug Kershaw, Charlie Daniels, and Mark O'Conner rosining up their bow, hair from the bow flying in all directions as they worked their "axe" is a life event on its own.  Similarly I love the sound of a smooth violin playing the likes of Vivaldi.

The hardingfele is a very different animal however.  Imagine a Stradivarius violin and a set of Scottish bagpipes having a "love child."  Underneath the set of four playing strings there are an additional four or five strings that run under the neck and are tuned, to much different tones than a standard fiddle/violin.  These sympathetic strings resonate as the other strings are played, adding a haunting, echo-like sound.  The sound is very unique to parts of Norway.  That "haunting" sound I mention was, however, enough for churches in the 1800's to compare the instrument to the devil, have hardingfele burning parties, and outlaw them still in many churches.

One point of interest is that the hardingfele (actually an interesting item to google) in the photos above are made by a gentleman here in Orem, Utah (just south of Salt Lake City).  I understand it is the only shop in North America to make these fiddles, and there are about 200 to 300 hours of craftsmanship put into each one. There is an incredible amount of inlay work using mother-of-pearl and abalone shell on the fingerboard, highly decorated with inked trim around the body, and a lion's head as part of the scroll at the top of the pegbox.

I'm not sure I could listen to one for same amount of time I can to a classic violin or cajun fiddle...but for the amount of time I can Scandi dance until I get dizzy and fall down...the timing is perfect.

Festivals

Yeehaw!  Rodeos and Festivals seem to be one of a Texan's favorite past-time...after BBQ, beer, and dancing anyway; but they are at least in the top 10.  I spent a cumulative total of 22 years in the Texas-Louisiana gulf coast.  I considered myself a Texan for most of my adult life.  However, having been in Utah for a total 9 years, I not sure I can continue to claim Texas, but I don't really want to claim Utah.  Hmmm...Texan...Utard...hmmm.

It was a general past time of mine, later in my Texan timeline, to seek out festivals around the state.  Because of the "wild west", Texas has a town of some sort just about every 20 miles in some direction.  I hear the reason was that 20 miles is about all one could travel in a day on horseback.  This being said, it gives way for a lot of small towns to have festivals to draw in $$$ (if speeding tickets aren't a great enough revenue source).  During my festival phase, I would on occasion get talked into a few bull-doggin' events as can be seen below.  It only took a couple of times for me to wonder if beer and dancing wasn't a better, if not safer, hobby.

Although there are hundreds...maybe even a thousand different festivals around the State of Texas in a given year, one of the most popular and fun is the Renaissance Festival in Plantersville, Texas, about 30 miles northwest of Houston.  Astri and I visited our son and g'son in Houston last autumn and attended it.  This is not your typical festival since it seems to draw ALL types.  Many of the visitors enjoy dressing up and participating, but I have more fun people-watching than watched.  Here are a few photos of the "RenFest."

Now...lets leap 3000 miles across the Atlantic Ocean to Norway...more specifically the island of Smøla.  This is a fairly large island (øy) along the western coast, southwest of Kristansund.  Astri has family on the island...another post...yikes.  Actually it is more like a big flat rock probably dropped by some Norsk god who missed the mainland.  I don't recall one item of vegetation that was taller then me.  They do how ever have a very large and interesting wind farm on the island.

Anyway, Astri's mom happened to mention there was a festival in the town of Veiholmen.  It's population in 2003 was 325, but since 2004 it is no longer considered an urban settlement by Statistics Norway, and its data is therefore not recorded separately (Wikipedia).  This wasn't just any festival...it was a rowboat festival!  Those Nordmenn sure know how to party!  The town was actually quite quaint, although when we go there it was 3:00 pm and the streets were being rolled up.

We finally made it to the festival...here is a photo of the rowboats...ALL the rowboats.

Maybe the celebration was a bit early and we missed out?  At least I got a good chuckle on the road sign that means "speed bump."  As an American, it is hard to not to laugh when one reads "Fart" on a public sign...hehe.