A Memorable Performance in a Magical Space
This summer the St. Olaf Orchestra toured Norway in celebration of two historic milestones: the 150th anniversary of the founding of St. Olaf College and the 200th anniversary of the first organized migration from Norway to North America. The ensemble performed six concerts across the country, including three alongside the award-winning Oslo Chamber Choir. St. Olaf Orchestra Conductor Chung Park reflects on one of those moments — and what made it so meaningful.
The St. Olaf Orchestra performed in the Glass Cathedral (Domkirkeodden) in Hamar this past May during our tour of Norway. This magical space, located on the shore of Lake Mjøsa, was the setting for our third and final concert in collaboration with the Oslo Chamber Choir.
The Glass Cathedral is essentially an enormous glass tent built over the ruins of a medieval cathedral. The remnants of the church’s floor and columns were our stage, lending a sense of timelessness to the event. History was literally at our feet.
In the spirit of many buildings in this part of the world, the Glass Cathedral blurs the barrier between indoor and outdoor, people and nature. There were birds flying around in the church, adding their own musical contributions, and the far northern latitude meant the sun was streaming in right at the viola, cello, and bass sections during our evening concert.
Our collaboration with the Oslo Chamber Choir (OCC) was deeply satisfying, both artistically and personally. The OCC blends incredible artistry with an authenticity that comes from its grounding in the Norwegian folk tradition. While this pairing of a small, folk-inspired chamber choir and a full symphonic orchestra might seem a bit odd, the friendships that we forged in our short time together cleared the path for our music-making.
A colleague joked (possibly out of exasperation) that their conductor, Håkon Nystedt, and I were kindred spirits due to our penchant for wearing our hearts on our sleeves and a shared eagerness for connection and experimentation. This melded nicely with the way our ensembles like to work. The St. Olaf Orchestra leads with community, and we found a kindred ensemble in the OCC. There was incredibly nuanced, flexible, and empathetic communication between our two groups, each responding in kind to any cues given through body language, eye contact, a change in timbre, or the acoustics.
The Domkirkeodden concert was the setting of one of my two favorite memories from this tour. The sun was finally starting to change to a dusky color after the concert at about 9 p.m. when I walked out of the cathedral, drawn by the lushest, greenest meadow you have ever seen, at the bottom of a small hill. This is where cows must go when they die.
As I started down the hill, I heard gleeful laughter and saw the silhouetted figures of our college students — fully grown people — chasing each other around like small children. This moment of childlike abandon, a relinquishing of cares, and a total lack of self-consciousness (the great plague of our time) is a memory that I will remember and relive for the rest of my life.
Our Orchies are beautiful people. They showed it when they played, by the way they interacted within and outside of the orchestra, and at that moment, by letting the child inside come out to play for a few memorable moments.
