Chapter VIII

July 5, 2014

Telemark

I typically don't like to stand in lines: the jostling of bodies, awkward pace of progress, and folks who vaguely try to be cordial just to fill the awkwardness (which actually increases it). In fact, standing in line is kind of like being in an elevator for an extended period of time. Nonetheless, every now and then I have no choice and must dust off the old queue skills and shuffle along with everyone else.


One of the things that I did my first week was to do just that. I stood in line for a good long while in order to sign up for a weekend trip to Telemark. Which meant one of the last things I did my first week was to actually go on this trip to Telemark. I was glad I stood in line. 
Bright and early Saturday morning all of us chosen Telemarkers crowded into the dining hall for breakfast and to pack some lunch for the journey. People were in various states of consciousness but managed to complete the necessary tasks and before long we entered the bus and settled in the best we could. 
Our first stop was supposed to be the cobalt mines in Blaafarveverket. The closer we got to our destination the more narrow the roads became, not only narrow, but also steeper and more winding. There were some places in which I was not sure the entire bus was even on the road at the same time, but the driver pressed on with great confidence until at last we arrived at the mine. We all tumbled out of the bus stretching our legs and jaws, but the only trouble was that it was the wrong mine. Without the slightest vexation the driver rumbled further up the mountain on smaller and smaller roadways. We were rather high at this point, my ears were starting to pop and the view from the bus was breathtaking. Stopping once again at another mine location we all piled out of the bus once again stretching, yawning, etc. Unfortunately, this was still the wrong place. So we shuffled back onto the bus. The third stop was the right one, but by now we were a little skeptical. We waited until it was confirmed this time before dismounting. 




















By now we were out in the middle of the mountains and could see for miles around. Our tour guide joined us soon. His name was Thor and lived up to it in almost every way. Before entering the mountain we all donned hard hats and fleece sweaters or capes. My fleece sweater was bright red and designed in such a way so that I could never tell if I was on the outside trying to get in or the inside trying to get out. Perhaps I should have chosen the fleece cape. 
Inside the mountain we were told such things as: the mine was at one time the biggest company in Norway with over 2000 workers, it was founded in 1770 by a Danish king, and it supplied 80% of the world's cobalt at one time. The famous Porsgrund ceramics company in Telemark are noted for their iconic use of cobalt blue in their pieces. After we left the mine, we stopped for lunch. It turned out that while we were there the historic ship MS Henrik Ibsen was going through the Vrangfoss locks in a slow moving nautical drama. 
Pressing ever onward, we headed at last for our overnight lodge in Natadal. This entailed going further and further up the mountain. Many of us were drowsy from the early morning and the long bus rides. The next three hours were mostly slipping in and out of consciousness, though the in consciousness was much better as the scenery was indescribable. As high as we were, the other mountains still towered over us against the backdrop of a theatrical cloudscape. The coniferous trees clustering together on the hillside looked strangely familiar. I had seen them in Dahl's landscapes. 



















When we arrived at our lodge for the evening I was immediately impressed by its charm. The Norwegians take their outdoor life as seriously as they take their national history hearkening back to the humble peasant. The lodge we stayed at was a superb example this. The owners were heavily influenced by Norwegian folk and fairy tales and had designed the place as a fairy tale home. The property actually did have a rather long past. Originally a farm built in the 18th century, the place had gone through various ownership until purchased by the current owners about forty years ago. Leaving the original buildings as untouched as possible they expanded the property adding their own mythological brand. It was quite a special place. 






































When we first arrived I trotted off to see what adventures I could find in this bemagicked wilderness. One of the first things I found was Myraekra.






















You might ask "what is myraekra?" and that would be a good question. In fact, I'm still wondering the very same thing myself. Probably a troll's home.

After trekking through the countryside for awhile I heard a bell ringing in the distance and I thought it must be time to eat. Surely people only ring bells if they have food to offer, I thought. Sure enough, upon my return we were treated with a homegrown meal that really did reach the upper levels of culinary expression. We had our meal in a highly decorated barn. It was a nice barn.

I should note that a typical Norwegian farm will have lots of various buildings for different purposes. This was no different. The building I stayed in retained some of its historicity and was heavily decorated with paintings, tapestries, ceramics, and shelves of books.























In the evening it got a little cooler and I thought I would go for a walk. Dark clouds were on the horizon so I grabbed one of the complimentary umbrellas and wandered off. It did start to rain and so without too much ado I opened my umbrella. Unfortunately, I must have opened it with a little too much aplomb and half of the canvas flew right off of the frame. Which meant I had to choose between protecting myself or my camera. Naturally I chose the camera.

We spent the night in the lodge and continued our adventure the next day, much like I will continue this story in the next chapter.

Chapter VII

July 4, 2014

Oslo

I am approaching my last week here in Oslo and I have hardly written about more than my first week here. This is in part due to all the things that happen and how consistently interesting things are, but also because I can just get downright garrulous at times. Consequently, I will be zooming forward a bit. 

Independence and national pride are an ever present theme here. This is partly due to the fact that the study of Norwegian art is very often a study of Norway's struggle for independence and their efforts to forge a strong national identity. However, it is especially strong this year since it is the bicentennial of Norway's constitution. In 1814 Norway ended their subservient relationship with Denmark and became the third country to adopt a constitution after the USA and France. A good many of the museums that I have been frequenting have devoted some gallery space to the celebration of these events. 

These ideas are given even more life by the Independence Day party that Oslo hosted for Americans on June 29th in Frogner Park. I had forgotten which day it was and I just happened to be in Frogner Park documenting the sculptures when I was gently reminded by the American rock band that started jamming to the entire park. Going over to investigate I found a little slice of America complete with hot dogs, muscle cars, and a Coldplay cover band. Some of the Norwegian security guards even fitted themselves out with cowboy hats and sheriff badges. I suppose they thought this was the American equivalent of a bunad. In the end, they might be right. 

Of course just a few days later the Canadian population here at the school had their own national holiday on July 1st. They took it very seriously and had a lively celebration and sang O Canada very enthusiastically from the (literal) rooftops all the day long. They were very happy and shared many interesting anecdotes of what it is like to live in Canada for which I thank them. So when the American Independence Day did arrive it was not without some festive precedent.

So what is it like to be an American abroad on Independence Day? Though I had originally written out some theories on the importance of holidays and their function in society; I don't think that's the right approach to answer the question. Instead I will simply say that because of the celebratory traditions that I grew up with and because I believe in the importance of holidays I missed being a participant this year. Being abroad was less significant than being away from those with whom I would normally celebrate: my family. 

Chapter VI

June 25, 2014

Oslo

As previously mentioned, my art class features many excursions to museums, etc. As mentioned even previouslyer, I would revisit many of the places that I saw on the three hour tour my first weekend here. The first place I returned was the Viking Ship Museum.

One thing to note about Oslo is that it is built around the Oslo fjord. (Geologically speaking it is not a fjord, but that matters not.) What does matter is that in the western side of the city there is a peninsula called Bygdøy. On this peninsula, clustered together like a nest of historically significant eggs, are some of Oslo's best museums including the Viking Ship Museum. There are many routes to the museum using public transportation, but for the sake of the nice day and to enrich our experience our Professor decided to have us take the ferry. 

So at the appropriate time, we all met at the T-Bane station and rode the train down to the waterfront. Arriving downtown Oslo we fast-walked across a couple of streets and through a corridor of shops towards the pier. There are about twenty of us in the class and so sticking together as best we could we crowded on to the loading dock. Once we were there we noticed a foreboding sign (literally) that forbade the use of our public transportation cards on the ferry. In other words, though the website explicitly states that we may use the ferry with our Ruter cards, the ferry operators denied it. Thankfully, thanks some advanced diplomacy our professor was able to convince them to let us aboard and we pushed of for Bygdøy at last.

The ferry ride afforded us a wonderful view of the fjord. The sky was clear and the water was shimmering blue. The breeze coming off the water was refreshing on such a hot day. The sounds of the sea came from all sides: the seagulls cawing, the water lapping at the side of the boat, the flapping of loose cloth in the breeze, and the general happy tones of people who like the water. It was pleasant. The idea of riding a boat to the Viking Ship museum may have added a little romance to the fifteen minute voyage as well. 

The Viking Ship Museum was very busy and crowded even outside. This has been typical with my museum experience here, they are popular places to visit. The importance of visiting this museum for our class is that the Norwegians take their national identity seriously and the Viking ships are a big part of that. This is a particularly important variable when looking at the narrative of their art. When the Viking ship were discovered in the later half of the 19th century with the last and best specimen being extracted in 1904 this was a significant time in Norwegian history. Norway had been in a servile union with Denmark for four hundred years when at last it ended it 1814 due in large part to the wily maneuvers of Karl Johan who is an extraordinary individual. Though free of Denmark they ended up in another union with Sweden which was better (but still not great) until 1905 when they became an independent sovereign nation. The years leading up to 1905 were filled with nationalistic fervor which fueled the search for Viking relics as a link to the past and when they were discovered they in turn fueled the feeling of national identity. That being said, it makes sense to begin our class with the Vikings and the Viking styles. 

Out in the front of the museum are two busts in honor of Helga Ingstad and Anne Stine the husband and wife team who discovered L'Anse aux Meadows proving Viking presence in Greenland in the 11th century. (Pardon the tourist couple doing their best American Gothic pose in front.) 

Inside the museum are three Viking ships. The first one, discovered in 1867, is called the Tune (pronounced Tun-a). It is in the poorest condition, primarily because the excavation methods of the time were still in the early stages of development. It is dated to c. 900. The second one was discovered in 1880 and is a little older (c. 890) but is in much better condition. In fact, it is the most seaworthy of the three. It is called the Gokstad. The third ship was discovered in 1904 and is the oldest of the three dating to c. 834. This ship is the most ornate and the contained the most burial objects including the famous animal head posts, the so-called Buddha Bucket, and two mysterious female skeletons. 

 

These artworks are important for my studies and so it was, as it always is, important to see them up close and personally. I was able to take a good many photos, though I had to try and learn the art of photographing objects through smudged glass. 

There are many advantages to making excursions to museums as a class. One, is that it is easier to familiarize yourself with the public transportation system. Learning the T-Bane routes and when to take the ferry are valuable skills which open up even more possibilities for exploration. Another is that it helps as you learn the city itself and where things are and how to make the most of future individual trips. Also, by visiting these things in class it becomes easier to fit the curated elements into the story of Norwegian culture and history. Consequently, each museum supplements and complements the others. And there will be others...many others. 

Chapter V

 June 23, 2014

  Oslo

Part I: Class

 The primary reason for coming to Norway is academic enrichment. In my applications and proposals I tried to make a strong case that I needed to come here specifically to study and I happen to believe that wholeheartedly. So it was with lively anticipation that I made my way to class on the first Monday. 

 With the promise of mental stimuli and art historical investigation on the near horizon every sculpture and painting I passed on my way to class seemed a little more vivid and noteworthy. It was their story that I was going to learn. There is even a bust by premier Norwegian sculptor Gustav Vigeland right beside the classroom door.  

I was the first student to arrive, usually this indicates that I have entered the wrong classroom but not in this case. The professor was already there and it was a great joy to meet him. He is an American professor who has a past in both design and art history. He was generous enough to share some of his story and to listen to mine. He has taken great interest in what my leading interests are and has continually proven to be helpful above and beyond the professorial call of duty. 

Over the course of the next fifteen minutes the rest of the class filtered into the room. The background and academic interests are highly varied. A few of us are students of art history but most are not. There are backgrounds in literature, urban development, jurisprudence, graphic design, metalwork, and others. Interestingly, despite the differing interests, there was one theme that emerged quickly: the interest in Norwegian art was sharpened by the lack of availability to study it in our respective countries of origin. Another common denominator that became evident quickly is that my classmates are distinctly wonderful people almost without exception. 

The lectures are extremely interesting to me as they are exactly what I had hoped they would be: a survey of Norwegian art that would introduce me to the important themes and figures in the narrative and then equipping me with the tools to "problematize" that very narrative. Delightfully, these lectures are supplemented by frequent visits to museum, galleries, and historical sites of which Norway has many. 

For those who skimmed the drier parts of the previous paragraphs I was basically just saying my class is great. It is. 

Part II: Welcome Ceremony

A rewarding day of scholarly investigation was not the only enjoyment of the day. That night the city of Oslo welcomed our group as ambassadors of a sort. The Welcome Ceremony was at the University Aula downtown in a beautiful room saturated with the work of Norway's favorite painter Edvard Munch. So at the appointed time in our most formal attire we piled into buses for the trip downtown. It is worth noting how interesting it is to see such a varied group of people interpret "formal attire." One jolly chap even had on a cowboy hat.

 In the ceremony we were treated with kind words of welcome from administrators of the city and the university. In the beginning the speaker welcomed without any further details, "your highness." To this moment I have no idea which member of the royal house graced us with their presence (if indeed it was a member of the royal house). Then we were treated to a performance by a musical group who were brought together for just this occasion. To celebrate the international quality of our program they performed traditional (stereotypical) pieces of music from around the world. I admit with some trepidation that I recognized Brazil's but not the USA's. Though it elicited great amounts of laughter and mirth from the general crowd so I guess it was a success. 

After the Welcome Ceremony we walked a couple of blocks down the street to the City Hall for the reception where we would be served fine food and drinks in the ever-soothing atmosphere of a live jazz band. The City Hall itself is treasure trove of painting with frescoes covering the walls celebrating the different elements of Norwegian life and history. 

Not too far into the evening a rather strange and unpleasant noise began to echo throughout the hall. At first I thought the jazz band was kicking things up with some experimental material, but instead it turned out to be something much more exciting: (unless you are intensely interested in experimental jazz) it was a fire alarm. Norway has lost many an important historical building to fires because of their affinity for woodwork so they take these things seriously. I guess most places take fire alarms seriously, come to think of it, but it has a certain urgency here. So with frankness and promptness we were ushered out into the Norwegian night (which of course is much like the Norwegian day since the sun never goes down here) with not a cowboy hat left behind. 

A few folks had brought out their refreshments with them and were contentedly sitting on the steps munching away. The vast majority of us however just milled around trying to seem amused with the whole situation. I, in particular, was eager to return inside for a promised tour of the upper floor but in the meantime milled with the best of the millers. At long last (about five minutes) the fire department arrived. A lone fireman dismounted the fire truck and we parted down the middle for him to enter the building as if he were Moses and we the Red Sea. With great courage which I'm sure he found in his Viking roots he entered the wailing building. We waited with bated breath. The munchers stopped munching, the millers stopped milling. 

Whatever mysterious skills he possessed and in which manner he employed them we will never know but he reemerged very shortly and the alarm was off. He walked back down through the midst of us with the smile of victory. We all cheered and applauded. It was an inspirational moment and we were glad that the City Hall would stand for at least one more night. 

Consequently I did get my tour of the upper rooms which contained even more frescoes and paintings, (including a wonderful collection of royal portraits), charming examples of Norwegian decor and design, and beautiful view over the Oslo fjord.

Later we crowded back into the buses and returned to Blindern where I'm sure we all had a wonderful night's sleep in preparation for another day of excitement. 

Chapter IV

 June 20-22, 2014

  Oslo

 The aforementioned adventure that was as I indicated "just beginning" did in fact begin with some promptness. After registration and the collection of my essentials (room key, ID card, info packet, coffee cup, etc) I made my to the room that would become my home for the next one and a half months. The room is small but efficiently arranged so as not to feel cramped. A large window overlooking the lawn adds spaciousness and lets in plenty of light for most of the twenty-four hours of the day. Of course the extraordinarily long days are not due to the window but rather, I think, to my longitudinal position. The long days are nice but they do tend to make one hungry more often. 

  The program I am participating in is intentionally international. There are people from all over world which adds a lot of flavor to the Norwegian experience. The benefit of this is that I not only get to see Norway from my own perspective but from an enormous amount of perspectives. Things that are culturally unusual to me are not to others and vice-versa meaning that not only is this a varied experience of Norway - but a varied experience of myself. This of course is one of the primary advantages of travelling internationally, to become more acutely aware of yourself and others. This was put into splendid practice the very first weekend when we were all boarded up onto crowded buses for a tour of our host city.

  The tour included stops at Frogner Park, the Viking Ship Museum, the Royal Palace, Holmenkollen ski jump, and the Oslo Opera House. The tour guide was quite a jovial fellow and was satisfactorily well spoken in the lore of Oslo. We rushed along at an unavoidable yet still regrettable pace leaving many things unseen at each place and the feeling that we must return. This of course was the entire point, to introduce us to the city so to speak in a theatrical manner. Each one of these places will be revisited and consequently I will not elaborate on them now. 

  
  Of course the first few days also included such ordinary activities as orientation meetings, schedule organization, and actual orientation. This of course is the orientation that comes from getting out into the new environs and experiencing it for yourself e.g. finding the library, the bookstore, and the coffee shops for instance. The campus here at UiO is pleasing. The public sculpture is outstanding with examples from some of Norway's leading artists. The architecture is friendly as well with a lot of wooden accents to warm up the metal and stone. Staying here, I can already tell, will be utterly delightful and honestly things are really just getting started. 

 

Chapter III

 June 20, 2014

 Oslo

 My flight to Oslo left at 7:00 AM. I was up late the previous night enjoying the pleasures of London and I couldn't decide if it was better to stay up all night or try to get a few hours of sleep. Unfortunately, I did neither successfully and unintentionally fell asleep and woke up an hour before the flight left the gate. In a rush I gathered all (hopefully) of my things and rushed out the door. I ordered a taxi because it was impossible to make it on time by train, and one showed it showed up with no time to spare. It was about twenty minutes to the airport and with about forty minutes to departure.

I wasn't sure what the British equivalent of "step on it" was so I just said "step on it." He understood. Only half way there did I realize that he did not accept credit cards. Somberly I pulled all my English money out of my varied pockets to get a total amount. I had thirty-three pounds. Not only did I not want to spend that much on transportation, I was relatively sure that was only enough to get me half way there. Keeping an eye on the meter I decided to just have him stop when it reached thirty-three.

While sitting in the back of the little black taxi trying to keep my two suitcases under control as we careened through the early morning traffic of London I thought that there were a number of ways I could this experience to improve future international travel. You have to start somewhere though.

Lampposts and foliage raced past the windows as the meter climbed steadily towards the threshold. The sun began to rise just as Heathrow airport came into view, a hopeful scene. The meter inched ever closer to thirty-three. My mind wanders. Jesus is sometimes thought to have died at age thirty-three. I had just read Eugene Pushkin which was first published in 1833. I thought one of the Pre-Raphaelite painters was born in 1833 as well, but I couldn't remember which one. I guessed Holman Hunt: I was wrong.

The driver pulled into the terminal for Scandinavian Airlines. The meter stopped at thirty-three pounds exactly. I dumped all my cash into his hands and leaped from the cab. There was fifteen minutes to spare. The attendant at check-in raised an eyebrow when I said which flight I was on, she said I should wait for the next one. I said could I please try to make it. She made a phone call and let me through. No one was in line at security and at a full run I made it to my gate just as they were boarding.

Part II

The flight was uneventful. It was about three hours before we touched down. I had an aisle seat so I could not see the view and so just sat in a sort of comatose position neither fully awake or asleep the whole way. The airport was very clean and pleasant. It was still somewhat early in the day so it was not too busy. While I was in line at Customs I heard one of the other passengers talking to the check-in officer who was trying to get him to say "Blindern" in a correctly Norwegian manner. It is a hard word to get right and the officer was relentless. It was in this exchange that I realized this was a fellow American and student who was attending the University of Oslo's program like me. I caught up with him and joined with some other students we made our way via train to Blindern. The public transportation in and around Oslo (and most of Norway, I think) is very nice and easy to use and we made it without any trouble. Finally in Oslo and settled down for a bit in my room in Blindern Studenterhjem I brace myself - the adventure is just beginning. 

Blindern Studenterhjem

Chapter II

 June 19, 2014

 London

 The next morning I woke up early in my little bunk bed in the hostel. Went downstairs to the restaurant to have breakfast. During this time I met Jamie, a Canadian who was backpacking his way through Europe. We decided that since our itineraries aligned we would join forces. And before we left we were joined by Darren who wanted to tag along as well.

  The first activity was to walk down the Queen's Walk by the Thames. It was here that we saw Shakespeare's Globe, the London Eye, and Elizabeth Tower (Big Ben).

   We ended up in Southwark, and took a quick look at the Clink Museum which was a gentle reminder that the legal system has made certain improvements regarding penal institutions since the 12th-18th centuries. Afterwards we took a look at the Southwark Cathedral. Unfortunately, they were just beginning a service and I was denied entry into the nave. However, I got some decent shots of the tower juxtaposed with the Shard. 

  Next stop was St. Paul's Cathedral; one of the things I was looking forward to seeing the most. The dome loomed large in the cityscape as we crossed the Millenium Bridge towards it. 

  The cathedral is as exquisite inside as anyone could hope. However, no pictures were allowed. Nonetheless, a schoolgirl choir was giving a recital inside and their crystal clear voices rose to the heights of the dome expanding and describing the space. Two unexpected pleasures in the cathedal were the discovery of an exhibition by Bill Viola called Martyrs and Holman Hunt's Light of the World. After soaking in the artistic and liturgical majesty, I made my way upstairs. And by upstairs I mean nothing less than a cramped, claustrophobic set of 528 to the top of the dome. You see the cupola at the top of the dome in the above picture? That's where I was standing in the end. Here is a shot of London from the top.

My plans to visit the British Museum was thwarted, and so instead I headed to the Victoria & Albert museum. This is collection of decorative arts which did not disappoint - in fact it turned out to be quite a nice choice, but more on that later. I was greeted by hall of sculptures that fairly took the breath away. Primarily British artists, but a nice selection of August Rodin as well. Busts, classical scenes, reliefs, everything. 

 I have the habit of spending large amounts of time in these galleries and museums. I could have rushed through in order to visit something at an even more rushed pace - but I think that it was better to take it slowly. If art was food it would be like chocolate, something that must be savored patiently and slowly to be truly enjoyed. Besides, the other places will be there next time. This concludes the chapter and more or less my hasty visit to London. Next stop: Oslo. (More precisely: Paddington station, Heathrow Express, Heathrow, Gate 24, SAS airlines, and then Oslo.)