I arrived Flemingberg station in the Kommun (municipality) of Huddinge around 4PM, April 29, on the commuter railway from Stockholm to the north.
From the station platform I took a long escalator ride up to the bridge over the rail tracks, and turned right to access another very long escalator to the plaza level of the building complex surrounding Karolinska Universitetssjukhuset (Karolinska University’s Hospital—‘Sick House’).
Outside and inside the portal of the second escalator, at the lower level, I saw these works of art (click on all the images for expanded views):
The great open plaza outside the upper escalator portal did not immediately bring me to the hospital. There are several commercial shops catering to the education crowd, but dominating the area is Södertörns Högskola (Södertörn University), a curved building with monuments of natural stone and carved stone gracing its entrance at this level. The building housing Karolinska Intitute’s Dental School can be seen further along to the left:
I walked around the natural stone and under an arch of the curved building to enter upon a long outdoor corridor flanked on each side by rows of large buildings housing Karolinska Institutet, Novum Research Park and, further along, the hospital.
The curved building on the right is Södertörns Högskola. To its left, dimmed by a passing cloud, is the complex of smaller buildings comprising Novum Research Park. The two buildings opposite Novum (below it, in this image) and across the open corridor mentioned above (running horizontally in this image), are Karolinska Intitute’s school of dentistry (right) and a research building, with a lighter-colored roof. My objective was the information desk inside the entrance of the main building which is the widest, and in the center, of the five largest buildings. It is only partially under the clouds. This and the other buildings of the hospital are dedicated, according to their local “street” names, children, rehabilitation, surgery, medicine and infection (infectious diseases).
The corridor inside the main building is vast, like a mall or galleria. There are shops and restaurants. The person at the information desk was comfortable with my question in English, and answered in kind. My friend was in the surgery building on the 8th floor, somewhere in wards 87-89. Someone there would direct me further.
I walked further down the wide corridor to the narrower (normal) corridor leading to the towers of the surgery building. At the second elevator tower I ascended from level 5 to level 8. The lobby area was vacant, so I wandered a bit to find the entrance to ward 87, “Transplants” (in Swedish).
I entered hesitantly, not seeing anyone at what seemed to be a combination business and reception office. I went a bit further, feeling like a dangerous, infectious alien to all the hidden patients. I heard some voices at a patient room to the left and waited for a partially visible professional worker to appear. She did, not seeming bothered at all by my humble appearance. I asked for my friend’s room. She promptly pulled a list out of a pocket, scanned it a few times, then looked up and smiled at me. I don’t hear well, especially Swedish, but via her good English, some body language and her smile, she led me across to ward 89 and pointed to a closed door where I could see my friend.
The first door led to a small area for washing and otherwise preparing to enter (and leave, I suppose) the patient bedroom. The second door led me to my friend’s private room, with her sitting at a small table conversing with another friend in the USA, with video, on her iPad2.
I had successfully navigated the labyrinth.
Observing All Souls’ Day in Stockholm, November 2010
On All Souls’ Day or All Saints’ Day, depending on one’s tradition, Eva and I usually visit the cemetery where her ancestors are buried. It is always a soulful occasion. We went yesterday, November 6, once again.
The tradition is to place a lighted candle by the gravestone.
The North Burial Ground (Norra begravningsplatsen), is actually located within the municipality of Solna, but is owned by the municipality of Stockholm. The cemetery was inaugurated in 1827. Many architects were been involved in the design of the cemetery: Gustaf Lindgren, Gunnar Asplund, Sigurd Lewerentz, and Lars Israel Wahlman. There are many sculptures, reliefs and other artistic embellishments by prominent Swedish sculptors, including Carl Eldh and Carl Milles. Many persons famous in Sweden, and some well-known in the USA, are buried here. Among the latter are Ingrid Bergman, Franz Berwald, Vilhelm Moberg, Alva Myrdal and Gunnar Myrdal, Alfred Nobel, and August Strindberg.
Later in the day we attended a concert performance at the local church in Alvik, featuring Gabriel Fauré’s Requiem. I was drawn to the concert, the day before, by a notice posted at the bus stop in Minneberg where we live. I was in a hurry to catch the bus and wasn’t able to determine the location of the church where the concert was to be. For some reason this piece by Fauré was on my mind and I wanted to hear it. So later on Saturday Eva and I perused the Stockholm newspaper to locate the concert. We found no less than 20 churches offering special concerts on Alla Helgons Dag. These included requiems and other sacred pieces by Bach, Barber, Brahms, Charpentier, Dowland, Franck, Gabrielli, Grieg, Messiaen, Mozart, Poulenc, Preston, Rautavaara, Stenhammar, Vasks, and Vaughan-Williams.
Finally, we found the local church, Sankt Ansgars (Saint Ansgar’s) as the venue.
This is a modern, plain and unassuming church. It there are no pews, just folding chairs. The decorations are few and a small pipe organ sits on the one floor, the only level of the building, apparently. During religious services I imagine no more than 150 people can fit into the one public room.
I paint this picture deliberately to put into juxtaposition the beautiful music and its excellent performance by the church’s choir and instrumentalists. We saw one of the choir members was a fellow gardener whose plot is adjacent to ours in the local garden koloni.
There were around 20 choristers plus two soloists, a soprano and a baritone. There were ten musicians, including the organist. The music leader was also a pianist during the three introductory pieces, before the requiem was presented. The harpist was also a chorister (not simultaneously) and was, of course, a tall young woman with long blonde hair as all harpists should be (except for Harpo Marx, of course).
Now, think of all the other performances of the day. What a lot of singers and instrumentalists in Stockholm! And all, without a doubt, of excellent quality, as I have invariably experienced.
Brian J. Brundin, 1939 – 2008
Another soulful incidence, or co-incidence, is that the church’s präst is named Håkan Brundin. A dear friend, Brian Brundin, formerly of Alaska and later of Arizona, died almost three years ago. It was Brian who, when I lived in Alaska, first introduced me to the pleasures of aqvavit and lutfisk, and who regaled me and others with gentle humor about Olle and Lena, two stereotypical Swedish characters. He was a colleague, a friend and a mentor.
I allowed my heart to dwell on Brian during the performance of this Requiem by Fauré.
Claes Anders Ragnar Hake, a Swedish Sculptor
I had not known of Claes Hake until I recently visited, as I do every summer, the “garden” of Swedish artist Carl Milles—Millesgården.
In addition to the permanent collection of sculpture and art by both Milles and his wife Olga Granner, there will be seasonal exhibitions of other artists. This is where I found some works by Claes Hake in the gallery adjacent to the main entrance.
What commands the eye, of course, is the large construction on the wall to the viewer’s right. It was controversial when presented in 1969:
The American. Claes Hake’s first public commission was for a housing estate constructed by the cooperative housing association HSB at Hisingen in Gothenburg at the end of the 1960s. [Note: Eva and I live in such an HSB cooperative housing association apartment in Stockholm]. The exhibition’s most spectacular work, Amerikanaren (The American) from 1969, is part of that commission. Amerikanaren hangs on the wall as monument of a time when art was engaged and roused the passions. The artwork, now 41 years old, still posses a distinct topicality. [One cannot know what inspired Mr. Hake in this obvious political statement, but it is possibly worth noting that the political controversy surrounding the Vietnam War culminated in 1969]…
The directors of HSB refused to accept the work, which was deemed political. A classic art controversy ensued and HSB broke the contract. The people in charge of HSB intimated to Claes Hake that if he did not keep quiet about the dealings in regard to Amerikanaren, they would make sure that no artist from the west of Sweden would ever receive a public commission! Needless to say, instead of keeping quiet, Claes Hake displayed Amerikanaren in several exhibitions, accompanied by an excerpt of the minutes from the meeting where the threat was formulated. [Transcribed from the printed program at Millesgården describing the works of Hake on display and this history of Amerikanaren].
Now having learned of the artist-sculptor, I searched the Internet to see more of his work and found these images on Wikimedia commons.
In addition, I found this news piece about the movement of one of Hake’s large works at the The Karolinska Institute.
Claes Hake is seen in the foreground as he supervises the movement of his work, “Dephot” at the Karolinska Institute.
Claes Hake remains active in his art and can be seen here as he is interviewed (in Swedish) accompanied by many of his works.
The Mezzo-Soprano in the Vault
This is not a fairy tale or a romantic story from centuries ago but, rather, an account of a modern presentation in an ancient setting.
Gregory Maytan accompanying his wife, Sandra Maytan in "The Vault"
“The vault” is an underground chamber at the street address Kåkbrinken 5 in “Old Town” (Gamla Stan), Stockholm. The street’s name means, in Swedish, “the ramshackle house slope.” The chamber is lined with red brick and gives the appearance and feeling of an ancient dungeon, which word our “mezzo-soprano” allowed to pass her beautiful lips in introducing the evening’s program to the audience on Saturday, July 31, 2010. But I am getting ahead of myself.
I first saw and heard Sandra Maytan sing one year ago in this same setting when she appeared, as she did recently, with her husband Gregory Maytan. I wrote about it here.
Both Gregory and Sandra are pianists, but the main forte of each is, for Gregory, the violin and for Sandra, her marvelous voice. In the concert reviewed here it was Sandra who presented the program, with Gregory accompanying.
I emphasize here that I am not a professional critic, but a lover of good music and its performance, for around 70 years.
Sandra Maytan acknowledging her admiring audience in “The Vault”
I read recently that the first musical instrument was the human voice. It is this instrument that Sandra Maytan has developed to a level that exceeds my ability to adequately describe. But the words she uses (in German, Swedish and English) and the musical notes within which they are tendered, are only part of the offering. It is the manner in which they are presented that makes the experience in listening, in person, to Sandra Maytan so special.
She glows with an inner light that is entrancing, even compelling. She stands straight but not stiffly; a gentle and genuine smile seems her default expression; her whole slender body seems like the exquisitely resonant pipe of a church organ as she fills the room with sound accompanying the most dramatic parts of the pieces she sings, and The Vault seems a perfect chamber for her voice to reverberate within.
We heard songs and arias by Bellman, Franck, Grieg, Handel, Mozart, and Schubert, among other lesser-known composers. I was particularly moved by Sandra’s rendition of Solveig’s Song (the link is to the orchestral version) from Grieg’s incidental music to Henrik Ibsen’s play Peer Gynt.
My friend Vasil and I were a bit disappointed not to hear Gregory play his violin, as he did last year, but he had special dispensation in that he had just returned from an extended holiday away from work and practice. It was gratifying to learn he had recently been appointed to the music faculty as a professor at Grand Valley State University, Allendale, Michigan, USA.
I hope we will be able, again, to scramble down the steep and irregular steps into The Vault next year to hear this extraordinary pair of musicians.
