If you don’t know already, this is Trondheim: the view from the Old Town Bridge looking out towards the North Sea.
This blissfully calming video loop was captured today on the second day of my trip to the Norwegian city, where there’s a reassuring smell of coal fires all around and a burger and fries cost an astonishing £9.92.
What’s coming up
These trips – this is the third this year – are always thought-provoking experiences. This one has helped develop my thinking a little further about what and how to develop the writing on this blog.
So this post is an introduction to a different series of short posts documenting the sights, sounds and thoughts from the trip. Because there are lots of people writing purely about the music. But I don’t know many capturing the enriching experiences that come about because of the music.
Over the next few days, there’ll be thoughts and reflections from my time in the city, a review a performance of Gretry’s opera-comique Raoul Barbe Bleue, and amongst other things, a podcast featuring Trondheim Barokkfest Artistic Director Martin Wahlberg.
Two Trondheim-related recordings I’ve been listening to a lot
In the meantime, take a listen to two recordings from the Trondheim Soloists.
The first, from 1999 on DG: Ann Sophie Mutter playing Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.
I’d forgotten all about this fresh, urgent and often visceral production. It tugs at my heartstrings, reminding me of home (yes, even on a three-day trip I can get ridiculously homesick). The breakneck speed of the third movement conclusion is jaw-dropping.
And the second recording that stopped me in my tracks yesterday, from earlier this year, is Alisa Weilerstein and the TS in a recording of Schoenberg’s Verklarte Nacht.
This is a far more intimate, and leaner sound than the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra recording than I’m normally drawn to. The production on the Trondheim Soloist’s recording makes me feel less like I’m listening to something going on on stage, and more as though the action is going on all around me. Listen out for the terrifying pizzicato in the second movement.