A towering figure in Norwegian music history, but unknown to many. Johan Kvandal was passionate about Norwegian culture and spiritual heritage. On Sunday he would have turned 100.
/ 04/09/2019 / Kristian Dugstad
– This is what used to be the main entrance, says Morten Gaathaug.
He points to an outer door with elaborate door mirrors and barred windows. The green color stands in stark contrast to the red-painted villa that houses the Barratt Due Institute of Music. Just to the right of the door is the new modern glass entrance, where a crowd of young people with instrument cases has just poured in.
“And in here I had my lessons with Kvandal,” he says, and pulls the yew hedge aside so that a large window appears.
This is where they met. Gaathaug, a freshman student with ambitions for a career as a composer. Johan Kvandal, a renowned composer and newly engaged teacher to fill this need. The latter would have been a hundred years old next Sunday, September 8, 2019.
Johan Kvandal was already an important figure in his time. He was a leading representative of the interwar trend of continuing the legacy of Grieg. These were composers with a strong national roots, and a desire to preserve what was Norwegian.
– He was born into a living musical tradition, as the son of the composer David Monrad Johansen. His father was a trendsetter of his time and had both heard Grieg play and had close contact with people who knew him. The circle around his father was of enormous importance to Kvandal, who in his childhood received impulses from the rich cultural flora in the environment, says Gaathaug.
Throughout his career, Kvandal was interested in Norwegian cultural heritage and already at an early age, he developed an attraction towards this domestic aspect.
– His mother, Lissa, sang folk songs and brought Norwegian traditional material into the home. This is how the love for Norwegian culture and spiritual heritage arose, which helped shape his own music. He believed that Norwegians did not know their own culture, and looked too easily to abroad for inspiration. He wanted to raise awareness of the Norwegian.
You can read more about Johan Kvandal's life and work at Store Norske Leksikon.
The story continues below the picture.
It's the start of new students at Barratt Due today. Young people and parents are streaming in and out of the large glass doors that lead to the reception. The institute runs a music nursery, a music school for children and talent development for young people. It was at the Gaathaug College level that Kvandal became a teacher.
– He instilled both awe and respect in me. Coming into a tradition, with roots all the way back to the Norwegian Golden Age, and experiencing a “real” score composer up close, meant a lot. In many ways, Kvandal and his generation were the last to compose in the “old way”. The concept of composition has been expanded quite a bit today, so to speak.
Kvandal enjoyed great respect and had a high status in the composer community, especially among the more conservatively oriented. He was at the same time both humble and self-conscious.
– He was a quiet and cautious gentleman. He had a distinctive authority that was in no way ostentatious. He was attentive to others, and made people listen without raising their voices. There was an aura of culture around the whole man.
Morten Gaathaug became a composer, and continues to work as one to this day. He believes that Kvandal's educational efforts have left a clear mark.
– It has been said that a bad student remains loyal to his teacher. At the same time, Kvandal constantly emphasized to me how important it was to be true to oneself. It has been a great enrichment for me to stand in the tradition that Kvandal stood in.
After their studies, the two composers remained friends as colleagues. Kvandal composed throughout his life, and his last work was published in 1998, the year before his death. He was both sharp and productive until the end.
– Behind the quiet exterior, there was a strong will and clear opinions about music and the musical life. He also had a sense of humor and a power of expression that always seemed invigorating. A conversation with him was never boring.
Johan Kvandal died in February 1999, leaving behind a rich musical legacy. He is considered one of the most significant and productive Norwegian composers of the latter half of the 1900th century. He was also an active performer himself, working as organist at Vålerenga Church.
In 1942 he became a member of the Norwegian Composers' Association, and from 1967 to 1989 he sat on TONO's board.
– Kvandal's music has qualities that mean it will live on, but it must be performed. People must be able to hear it. It is regrettable that we do not see any traces of his music on any of the major orchestras' programs in the anniversary year, says Gaathaug.
Together with a number of talented musicians, he is organizing an anniversary celebration on the 100th anniversary itself. At Sentralen in Oslo, the audience can encounter a selection of Kvandal's compositions in an intimate chamber concert. Morten Gaathaug himself will tie it all together and illuminate common threads in the music.
He hopes the event can help make Kvandal's treasures available to more listeners.
– Music that wants to tell something by itself is increasingly getting worse in this country. Surface culture lies like an impenetrable cloud over what history has given us of artistic treasures that enrich us as people. One should not only hear music, but also listen to music to a greater extent. Kvandal's music is easy to understand, but not easy-going, it is deep, without being heavy. Kvandal's music makes one listen inwardly within oneself.
