Reflections

Since I came out to Norway in the middle of March this year (2022), social media has allowed me to keep in touch with friends and family both back home in Scotland and much further afield. I’ve enjoyed writing this blog and hopefully entertaining people with tales of my experiences as I get to grips with a new lifestyle and a new language.

I have had a fabulous time out here and have no regrets about the move but that doesn’t mean to say that there are occasional moments when it can be overwhelming and things can get on top of you. It can be a piece of music or a picture that will bring back memories or even just when you’re having a lovely time you’re suddenly aware that you’ve got no-one else to share it with (which, tbf, could have equally happened in Dundee).

I can actually pinpoint the exact moment my journey to Norway started. It was Wednesday 19th March 2020. I remember walking home after a rehearsal feeling in a very dark place, not only about the state of play regarding our upcoming concert in the Caird Hall, but also with life in general. There’s obviously no one else to blame but myself for the inadequate preparation for the performance but I wasn’t particularly happy inside myself at the time either and I felt it was all getting a bit too much for me.

Then Covid arrived and we went into lockdown.

I had always felt (no doubt immodestly!) that what I brought to the various groups I directed was my imaginative programmes (although some may disagree with that!). Many people could lead groups much better than I but I was proud of some of the programmes we could come up - a concert of pieces by Mozart, Haydn, and various Bachs but the twist being that it was Mozart’s son, Haydn’s brother and Bach’s uncles/cousins; Brahms Liebeslieder Waltzes and PDQ Bach’s Liebeslieder Polkas; Will Todd’s Mass in Blue and Passion Music; Godzilla eats Las Vegas; King Arthur by the Dundonian composer Smieton etc etc

However, from about December 2017, for whatever reason, I had lost that mojo and it was showing no signs of returning. As we returned from lockdown I was having no inspiration for what to do with the various groups and ended up repeating myself or following suggestions from others. Obviously neither of those are bad (and indeed after a long break repetition was probably a good thing) but I still felt that it took away what I regarded as my USP.

On top of that, the fact I had spent my entire life in Dundee (barring 6 years in Aberdeen) was starting to pray on my mind. I have many fabulous memories of various places around Dundee and further afield but there are also memories that were tinged with sadness etc and having to walk past them most days….

As lockdown eased and life became a bit free-er, I was ending up spending a good 2 or 3 hours properly practicing the organ each day (for the first time in my life) and very immodestly started to think that “you know, I’m not too bad at this organ-playing lark” and of course then enjoyed it even more. Setting myself challenges - all of Bach’s trios, Mendelssohn’s sonatas, Krebs’ Preludes and Fugues etc and finding the whole thing very satisfying. And as I’ve said many times, I think music is a fabulously therapeutic occupation and when you’re absorbed in it, for those few hours, everything seems so much better.

I knew that Norway was one of the countries that one could become a full-time organist so took a punt and sent some applications. After an intervention from my dear friend Alison (“this is the worst job application I’ve ever read”) I was fortunate enough to be offered this job in Dønna and Herøy. I have always been more than content in my own company but even so, the knowledge that I was moving to “not a large” place that required 3 flights, a drive and a ferry was occasionally a bit overwhelming. It’s not a place where people can nip out for a long weekend - if you come to visit (and of course you’re more than welcome), to make it worth the while, you probably have to commit to a whole week! I of course now realise that being in a small place is in fact an advantage - there’s a wonderful sense of community and people have been so welcoming ( and patient with my language (lack of) skills).

So what was the point of this post? I wanted to explain why I came here as I realise it came as a shock to most people when I suddenly upped sticks and left but also wanted to be honest about the fact that there are the occasional down times. I miss my kids, my family, friends, my cat (though hopefully he’ll be out soon), my flat/home comforts/ Costa Coffee etc! Putting myself in a foreign country with a new language is something that is way out of my normal comfort zone and although very occasionally my state of mind can plummet to quite low places this has been a wonderful experience. It seems silly to talk of how proud I am of myself but the fact I traipsed across Norway by ferry/ bus and train to buy a car and drive all the way back is something I couldn’t have imagined myself down even 2 years ago. I’ve often looked on with envy at social media posts where someone has taken a big gamble to something completely different with their life and it took me a while to realise that that was exactly what I had done.

Obviously it is still quite early days yet - there are still the long winter nights to come etc but the whole thing has been a fabulous experience.