Norwegian Folk Music (Agnes Buen Garnås)
Winfried Hühn
Garbarek. Incredibly beautiful and magical stuff, perfectly suited for
dark and cold winter days. Agnes Buen Garnås has a hauntingly beautiful
voice. Unfortunately (though not surprisingly), the liner notes just
describe the topics of the songs in a general manner rather than
printing the complete lyrics. There is one song I particularly like,
called "Margjit og Targjei Risvollo", and I'd really be interested in
the exact wording of that song. I've already searched the www -- without
any success. If anybody out there has a clue -- I'd be really grateful
if you could share it with me.
At least, they quote and translate the refrain line: "Det var mi og alli
di, som jala her _under lio_" -- "It was mine and never yours that rang
out here in the valley." I was once vacationing in a Danish summerhouse
that was situated right at the bottom of a steep dune cliff. The
driveway running along the cliff line was named "_Under Lien_", if I
recall it correctly. Are those two terms related?
Are there any more recordings of Agnes Buen Garnås available in Norway?
Hilsner
Winfried
tony
> Are there any more recordings of Agnes Buen Garnås available in Norway?
See http://www.digelius.com/norway.htm
Quote:
JAN GARBAREK Numerous recordings for ECM
"Twelve Moons"
(1992: features Mari Boine, Agnes Buen Garnås)
AGNES BUEN GARNÅS Another of Norway's most distinctive singers
"Draumkvedet"
(1984: with sax, flute, Celtic harp, organ, hardanger
fiddle) (FXCD 50)
AGNES BUEN GARNÅS / KNUT BUEN Famous singer and hardanger
fiddler.
"Stev og slått"
Forty-two traditional songs for voice and hardingfele. (BKCD
15)
AGNES BUEN GARNÅS & JAN GARBAREK
"Rosenfole"
(1989: Medieval Songs) (ECM 1402)
:End Quote
Tony
Tony
DGolber
>Garbarek.
Agnes is one of the very best traditional singers in Norway. (She is part of a
very talented family. Her two brothers Hauk and Knut are among the very best
Hardingfele players.)
There are lots of recordings of her in various contexts In the US, I could
refer you to a company that markets this kind of stuff. In Denmark? You
might try writing to Knut's publishing house, which puts out a lot of very
traditionalNnorwegian folk music (but not _all_ of Agnes' recording are with
him). In any case:
Buen Kulturverksted,
3697 Tuddal
Norway
Write in Danish, not English.
>There is one song I particularly like,
>called "Margjit og Targjei Risvollo", and I'd really be interested in
>the exact wording of that song. I've already searched the www -- without
>any success. If anybody out there has a clue -- I'd be really grateful
>if you could share it with me.
You must have the export version of the CD. The Norwegian version has more
extensive notes. Believe it or not, years ago I wrote out an English
translation (or an attempt at an English translation) of the notes. Here they
are:
---------------------------------------------
Entry
Selection from cattle-call in the tradition of Marit Jensen Lillebuen and
Margit Buen, Jondalen. [Margit is Agnes' mother; Marit was their neighbor.
Jondalen is an area of East Telemark.]
Marit Jensen Lillebuen was one of my closest neighbors. Marit's cattle-call is
like a great musical work: rich in content, with improvisations in the best
way, and with good form. My song is based on the music and song of my
childhood home. The cattle-calls of Margit and my mother were a part of our
everyday life, during those parts of the year that the cattle were at pasture.
---------------
Rosensfole - Rose's Foal
Source: Ingebjørg Liestøl, Åseral [West Agder]
We became acquainted with the singing of Ingebjørg Liestøl through the radio,
and from the records produced by the Norwegian Radio Network from its archives.
She learned this ballad from her father, Olav Liestøl. Her family is
well-known in folk memory. There is a family connection between the families
of singers Liestøl and Høgetveit in Vinje [West Telemark]. There were many in
her family that worked with folk ballads and folk music, most of all her
brother Knut Liestøl, one of our best-known collectors of folk music.
Ingebjørg told me that when she was little, she felt sorry for [???]
Rosensfole. We have a lot to learn from singers like this, who give expression
to such thoughts in their singing. Ingebjørg is one of many wise elder
singers. Each is different; not one is like the next ...
Rosensfole would not eat grain
-- Said the linden, the marble and the stones
Unless it came from a silver horn
-- He runs [???] in his silken reins
They bound him with nine locks
-- Said the linden, the marble and the stones
Rosensfole broke them all open
-- He runs [???] in his silken reins
Rosenfole leapt into the sea
-- Said the linden, the marble and the stones
It was ninety miles until he came to land
-- He runs [???] in his silken reins
Had it not been for the rules of men
-- Said the linden, the marble and the stones
I would have buried Rosensfole in hallowed ground
-- He runs [???] in his silken reins
------------------------
Margit og Targjei Risvollo - Margit and Targjei Risvollo
["Margit" is a woman's name; "Targjei" a man's.]
Sources: Text from Norwegian Folk Poetry, by Knut Liestøl, Moltke Moe and Olav
Bø. Melody: Lindemann's transcription of Bendik Aanonsen Felland, Skafså [West
Telemark].
I first heard this ballad, about the triangle Margit, Targjei and Jon, at a
wake, from the friends Kirsten Bråten and Ola E. Bø, at the end of the sixties.
The ballad "settled down" in me, and it took me several days to distance
myself somewhat from it. It is one of our most beautiful ballads, and is found
only in Norway.
Risvoll is a farm in Hjartdal [East Telemark], which was previously called
Risvollo. The verses here are a selection from a larger number.
Margit went to the northern hillside
She blew on a gilded horn.
Jon of Vaddelio heard her,
To the increase of her sorrow.
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
"I would give up my horse and saddle,
The finest that treads the woodlands,
If you were to love me
As the green woods burn in flame" [???]
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
"Hear, Jon of Vaddelio,
You must not speak so.
I am to have Targjei Risvollo
I must not choose for myself."
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
They lay together that summer night
By each other's side.
In the night they lay, and the sun came
Pain and sorrow covered them.
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
They lay together that summer night
In each other's arms.
In the night they lay, and the sun came
Grief and sorrow covered them.
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
Lady Margit came home
She knocked on the doorjamb;
"Get up, Kristi, my servant,
and let me in."
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
Kristi the servant replied,
Made angry by her words,
"It does not suit a maiden
To walk about in the woods."
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
"Listen, Kristi, my servant,
You need not increase my sorrow;
You have not seen your birthday
Swaddled in icy tears." [??????]
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
Then Targjei Risvollo
Came riding to the farm.
Kristi the servant stood outside.
She welcomed him properly [???]
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
Young Targjei spoke out,
Leaning on his sword.
"Where is Lady Margit now,
Who will be the ornament of my journey?"
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
Kristi the servant answered
[???????????]
"You are not made, rich Targjei
To stand as bridegroom with Margit"
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
"You bridesmen, go into the house,
Drink mead out of the the bowl.
I will go up into the high loft
To hear her speech"
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
Then he opened up the doors
Both yellow and blue
And so he encountered [???] two fine sons
Lying one on each arm.
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
"Listen, Targjei Risvollo,
Do that which I ask of you.
Will you not have these two young fellows
Christened for me?"
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
"Yes, I will have them christened,
I will not be long.
And no-one will know of it
Before the two are grown."
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
Targjei disguised himself in woman's clothing
With a child in each arm;
It was Margit's greatest happiness
That no-one knew him.
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
Targjei stood at the church
With both young fellows clay. [??????]
Within him was agony [??????]
Like the cutting of a sharp edge. [??????]
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
"Listen rich Targjei,
What I must ask you:
What have you done with the children
Which I bore yesterday?"
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
"Listen Lady Margit,
You have only sorrow;
The priest christened them secretly,
And now they sleep in hallowed ground."
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
The horse was very fine
That Targjei himself rode;
Even finer the horse
That he intended for his bride.
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
Targjei Risvollo
Departed with sorrow and grief;
The bridal horse ran out after him,
Without a rider.
-- It was mine and never yours
-- That cried out here on the hillside
[In the traditional Norwegian wedding, the bride is brought in procession with
great joy on horseback from her father's house to the church. In contrast, the
bridal horse running wild and riderless out of the courtyard brings to a peak
the image of sorrow and desolation.]
--------
Målfri mi fruve/Tora Lille - Målfri my Lady/Little Tora
Sources: Svein Tveiten Hovden and Margit Tveiten, Vinje.
[West Telemark]
A piece [???] of a longer ballad, which tells of family conflicts. Målfri's
father has conversation with the servant, Tora Lille, strongly opposed to the
bond of love between Målfri and a knight. Their child had been hidden, but was
discovered. The disclosure produces a conversation between father and
daughter. The ballad also has the name "Father and Daughter". I sing this
ballad freely, with elements from Svein and Margit's tradition.
-----------
Venelite og bergjekongen
Venelite [a woman's name] and the Mountain King
Sources: Melody: Margit Tveiten, Margit Gunvaldjord,
Brita Bratland, Vinje [West Telemark]
Text: Transcription of Brita Bratland from "Ei vise eg vil kveda"
- "I Will Sing a Ballad" - Buen/Buen Garnås/Groven, Tiden forlag -
Tiden publishing house.
Venelite rides out from her father's farm. The Mountain King stands in her
path and stops her. I sing the ballad in my own form, with Brita, Margit G.
and Margit T. as sources.
[In Norwegian folk tradition, the woods and mountains are inhabited by the
"underjordiske" - the Underground People. They are not Christian, and are
mysterious, powerful and dangerous. This ballad is one of many about women who
are "bergtekne" - carried away to live inside the mountain.]
Venelite rode out from her father's farm.
The Mountain king stood in front of her and stopped her.
-- Tiril, liril, lillil, my hill,
and they play so lightly throught the woods.
Listen to me, Venelite, what I say to you.
Now you must follow me home.
Then they rode such a long way through the woods
And Venelite wept, but the Mountain King laughed.
Then they rode three times around the mountain,
And the mountain opened up and they went in.
Then he set out a gilded chair
Sit down, Venelite, tired and travel-weary.
The first drink she took of the mead-glass
She still kept her Christian faith.
The second drink she took of the mead-glass
She still kept her Christian faith.
The third drink she took of the mead-glass
She no longer kept her Christian faith.
"So where were you born, and where were you bred,
And where were your maiden clothes cut?"
"In the mountain I was born, in the mountain I was bred,
And in the mountain my maiden clothes were cut."
--------
Hot æ dæ fe noko vesolt væ
Jutulen og Stolt Øli
What Was That Little Wind
The Giant and Proud Øli
Text recorded by Olea Crøger.
Melody recorded by Lindemann following Olea Crøger.
Source: "54 Ballads and Verses from East Telemark",
Askjem/Bonnevie/Borchgrevink/Buen Garnås, Grøndahl Publishers.
Olea Crøger was one of the first who wrote down folk ballads in Telemark. She
was a performer herself, and cooperated with other well-known collectors in the
middle of the preceding century. She lived in Heddal in her earlier years, and
that is where this ballad is from.
The giant goes courting, but the maiden has better sense [than to accept him].
The giant goes home in a rage to his mother, and complains. His mother doesn't
have the quite the same view of the matter, and replies "That was not what your
father did, when he came courting me." She remembers when the father giant
came courting her, and she was carried away to the mountain. ["Bergteken" -
see the explanation of the previous song.]
This ballad is quite unlike others: humorous, many-sided, thrilling to perform
-- and it gives a somewhat different angle to the ballads of the woman carried
away to the mountain. ["Bergtakingsvisene" - see the explanation of the
previous song.]
What was that little wind,
Which blows now, when the snow is so deep? [????]
-- He was so disappointed that he ran away. [???]
It is no little wind
It is the son of the English king, come to court you.
If you are the son of the English king,
Then I want to hear yours father's sweet [??] song
I have lain so long in soot and slavery [???]
That I have forgotten my father's sweet song.
The giant played on the golden harp
So that the chairs and tables jumped [??] around the room.
Pround Øli had a good idea
She set sulfer burning [which drove the giant out]
He knocked at the door with small fingers
Dear mother, get up, let me in.
Shame on you, you pitiful one,
That's not what your father did, when he came courting me.
--------
Signelita [A woman's name]
Sources: Transcription of text following Anne Tjønn, Olav Stuverud and Åste
Stuverud, by Hanne-Kjersti Kuoppala, in "Ei vise eg vil kveda" - "I Will Sing a
Ballad".
Melody: Following the same informants, but sung freely.
This ballad is not found in other places, as far as we know. It is probably a
piece from a longer ballad. Anne, Olav and Åste give us this with their
sensitive turns of melody and leaps of tone. They give more meaning and
clearer coloring in the "dream picture". I sing the ballad freely, but with
great respect for the sources' expression of content.
Signalita steered her ship away from land,
But she forgot God the Father, God the Son, and the Holy Spirit
-- Oh row me over Rolland with the oars. [???]
Signalita steered her ship away from land,
But there came a storm and washed them ashore.
Oh see! Oh see! Now my grey horse sinks,
And I no longer see his golden saddle.
Oh see! Oh see! Now my little bridesmaid sinks,
And I no longer see her golden-yellow hair.
Oh see! Oh see! Now my finest golden casket sinks,
And in it lie [???]'s fine bridal gifts.
------
Lillebroer og Storebroer/Storebroen og Veslebroer
Little Brother and Big Brother/Big Brother and Little Brother
Little Brother and Big Brother: Transcription by Rikard Berge, following Svein
Treiten Hovden.
Big Brother and Little Brother: Transcription by M. B. Landstad, "Norwegian
Folk Ballads".
Sources for the melodies: Svein Tveiten Hovden and Margit Buen.
Two short pieces from a long ballad with many forms of expression. The piece
following Svein Tveiten Hovden is used freely and set together with variations
following my mother.
This presents the first part of the ballad.
-------
Riddevall og Grisilla
Riddevall ["chosen knight"] and Grisilla [a woman's name]
Text source: Rikard Berge's transcription following Anne Øverland, Seljord
[East Telemark]. Melody source: Ingebjørg Bakken, Vinje [West Telemark].
Ingebjørg Bakken sings very lyrically, with a flute-like voice. Her family is
rich in singers, who all have their central place in our traditions. I have
been a little free in my interpretation, but have used the melody in the way
that I remember Ingebjørg sang it. The ballad speaks for itself, and I sing
only half of the transcribed text.
Grisilla sat at her fine weaving,
When her mother came walking in.
Listen Grisilla what I say to you:
Milk now runs from your breasts.
That is not milk, which you think you see,
But the mead which we drank yesterday.
Mead and milk are different,
For mead is brown and milk is white.
So I will send you from the country,
And him I will burn with fire.
Grisilla took her gold from the chest
And went away to her dearest.
Then she knocked on the door with her small fingers:
Get up Riddevall and unlock the door.
So that I don't stand here keeping watch
So that I am not locked out here in the night.
Is that you Grisilla, my dearest,
Then gladly will you let me in?
And they will send me from the land
And you they will burn with fire.
So Riddevall took his gold from the chest
And traveled from the country with his dearest.
----------------------
-----------------------
I will say, however, that this is nt one of my favorite recordings. As fine a
musician as Jan Gabarek is, after a while the accompaniments he composed for
the songs sound repetitive and silly. Ah well, this is "World Music" ...
nothing is permitted to be left alone ... everything must be "improved" ... ie:
made more familiar to our ears. Sigh!
Dave Golber
-----------------------------------
David Golber dgo...@aol.com
1 Fayette Park, Cambridge MA USA
(617) 661-3670
Winfried Hühn
questions on Agnes Buen Garnås. I've already done so privately, of
course, but with all this negativity haunting the internet, a little bit
of positive public feedback certainly won't hurt!
I received much more information than I had dared to hope beforehand.
Winfried