Reykjavík Grapevine - 09.02.2007, Blaðsíða 21

REYKJAVÍK_GRAPEVINE_ISSUE 0_007_INTERVIEW/MUSIC_5_REYKJAVÍK_GRAPEVINE_ISSUE 0_007_MISCELLANEOUS
The air is hazy with cigarette smoke and
the odour it generates blends with the faint
scent of cheap glue and hefty markers, the
two most essential weapons of the bingo
player. I glide through the grand hall, peer-
ing through the fog for an available spot for
my amateur self amidst the committed vet-
erans, my eyes battle the colour glory beam-
ing from bingo cards in the shade of neon,
toning with flamboyant shell suits of flocks
of grey-haired ladies, make up the majority
of competitors, bearing shawls of their own
manufacture with their fragile glasses neatly
placed either on their heads or noses.
I get the last vacant seat in the house
and frantically search for a pen so I can start
my humble attempt for the prize, which for
me is the honour of being able to stand up
and shout the code word loud and clear.
The mother and daughter duo sitting beside
me rapidly scan through their row of cards,
barely leaving time to reach for the large bag
of sweets situated between them. I decide
to ask the fellows sporting matching fleece
sweaters on the opposite table for brief in-
structions.
The game is on. Numbers are read in a
monotonous voice and the location is so quiet
I can hear the lady seated behind me scratch
her wig. I tighten the grip on my pen and clear
my throat to prepare the cry of victory. All of
a sudden the crowd bursts out with laughter.
The announcer has misspoken and the inci-
dent has loosened up the atmosphere. The
buzz of interrupted players travels through in
a wave and sweat gets wiped off anticipat-
ing faces. I put myself in gear once more. Just
two more numbers. A moment goes by, in
which I play my leap of triumph over in my
mind, when suddenly it happens. The bingo
patrol rushes up to the proud winner, who is
holding up one of dozen cards, just to make
sure everything is in order.
A recess is declared and I gather myself
and move towards the home-brewed cof-
fee, which I pour into a plastic cup. I walk
about this landscape of unfamiliar faces until
I come across a much smaller playing area
where the action is broadcast on several tele-
vision screens. The inhabitants of this room
are even older than those in the main room
and I wonder if I have perhaps wandered into
the VIP section. Then I notice the non-smok-
ing signs and the respirators overshadowing
some of the residents. Maybe these folks
started out playing in the bigger room and
moved down here over the years.
I purchase another card, which this time
is in bright orange. I head towards my seat
and notice that the bag of candy has been
emptied. I get into my bingo posture once
more but all of a sudden a shadow is cast
over the table. I look up at a joyful face asking
me if I’d like some smørrebrød on the house,
which I happily accept. The announcer’s soft
timbre is accompanied by the smacker of
mouths full of marzipan and mayonnaise and
I’m thinking there are worse ways to spend a
Friday night.
Bingó in Vinabær
Wed, Fri and Sun at 7: 15 pm – 11:00 pm
Skipholt 33, 105 Reykjavík
Tel.: 553 4054, www.bingo.is
Text by Gulla Hermannsdóttir Photo by Skari
Friday Night Amongst
the Bingo Die-hards
The annual Þorrablót celebrations are at hand.
They make for a fine excuse to get drunk.
Once again, it is time for the traditional
weird-food article, to be published around
the month of February, for our foreign read-
ership to scoff at all the strange, foul-tasting
stuff Icelanders will traditionally eat around
this time of year, and for locals to scoff at the
Grapevine for getting it all wrong, yet again.
It’s a seasonal thing, and now is the season.
So, let’s go:
If you are reading this before February 18,
and you are located in Iceland, you are cur-
rently experiencing the month of Þorri accord-
ing to the Old Norse calendar. Known as the
harshest, most unforgiving month of them all,
Þorri begins on a Friday of the 13th week of
winter (which occurs January 19-25) – known
as Bóndadagur, or Husband’s Day – and stays
with us until the traditionally gentler Góa
month commences on the Sunday of the
18th week of winter (February 18-24). That
particular Sunday is also referred to as Konu-
dagur – ‘Housewife’s day’ or ‘Women’s day’,
and has its own set of accompanying rituals,
just like Bóndadagur.
Þorri is probably best known for the
month’s accompanying feasts – and the point
of this article – the Þorrablót. Þorrablót are
held at random points during the month and
usually feature lots of drinking along with the
consumption of spoiled and/or rotten food
(with a few exceptions). The feasts are Ice-
landers’ way of honouring their ancestors’
methods to store food; as there were no re-
frigerators available and salt was a rare treat,
they resorted to pickling, smoking, drying and
rotting some of their foodstuffs to be con-
sumed during periods when fresh food was
scarce. Deadly winters used to be the norm
before this whole global warming thing, you
know, people would freeze to death on their
way to the barn.
So Icelanders will gather with their Bren-
nivín and their pickled foods to honour their
ancestors’ traditions, and to get shitfaced
while at it, as they have done for the past 50
years or so. Þorrablót is an important part of
Icelandic culture, so much that those living
abroad will even celebrate in small groups and
import foul food for the occasion. They make
for excellent parties, and those who can’t
stomach the pickled ram testicles can usually
get by fine consuming the dried fish and the
smoked lamb.
Aside from the rather pleasant smoked
lamb and dried fish, there’s the usual fare an
Icelander will tell you about when wanting to
gross you out and seem special. There’s Svið,
the seared sheep’s heads that are readily avail-
able year ‘round albeit specially enjoyed during
Þorrablót, and the Sviðasulta, Svið-jam, which
is Svið in compressed, gelatinous form. Putrid
shark is also a staple of Þorri cuisine, usually
enjoyed with a shot of Brennivín. Magáll is
essentially smoked sheep’s abs, pressed to a
hard core. The aforementioned dried fish and
smoked lamb are pretty self-explanatory and
remain favourites of those not inclined to the
sour taste of pickled meats.
Which brings us to the sour-division. Lun-
dabaggar are a concoction of internal organs
from sheep, rolled up in nets, boiled and sour-
soaked in mysa (whey). The year-round food
of Slátur (Iceland’s version of Haggis, sheep’s
liver or blood mixed with rye and sewn up into
sheep’s stomachs) also gets the sour mysa
treatment, which makes it taste a lot weirder
than it usually does. And that’s saying some-
thing. And last, and definitely least (in one
reporter’s opinion), in the weirding-tourists-
out division are the sour ram testicles, or Hrút-
spungar. The name says it all, a ram’s testicles
are pickled in mysa for an extended period of
time. All that pickled stuff has the same foul
taste, really, so it’s rather the texture of the
pickled items that counts. And testicle texture
really isn’t all that swell. But, you know, try a
bite. It’ll make for an interesting story at some
stupid bar in the future.
Text by Haukur Magnússon Photo by Skari
Should You Be Eating This?
Swedish sensation, Jazz diva, and pop idol
Lisa Ekdahl is on tour yet again, having
played in Norway and Demark recently, she
is on her way to play in Iceland for the third
time in two years, playing dates in Reykjavík,
Akureyri and Bolungarvík, before heading to
Sweden. The Grapevine contacted Lisa to ask
her a few questions about her ongoing tour,
but the roles were quickly reversed.
Is there much anticipation for your
shows in Sweden?
I do not know exactly how it looks, but I
hope so. I am traveling with a slightly differ-
ent set-up now than usual. It is a much more
intimate production. It is just one more per-
son with me on the stage, so the concerts
are very intimate.
This is the third time in two years you
play in Iceland, how come you keep re-
turning?
When I first came to Iceland two years ago,
I did not even know I had fans in Iceland,
so it was such a positive surprise. I was very
glad to experience how people welcomed
me. I just thought I would be a representa-
tive from Sweden in some sort of Nordic ex-
change program. But then I found out that I
had an audience in Iceland, and that made
me very happy.
You are playing in Bolungarvík this time;
I will bet you that it is the smallest town
you have ever played.
Really, well how big is it?
Around 800 maybe…
Oh my… Oh my. But do you think maybe
there will be people from neighbouring
towns there perhaps?
Probably, there is a bigger town close
by, about 5000 people, and other towns
as well, so…
Have you ever been there?
Yes, sure.
Well how does it look?
It is rather beautiful actually, especially
in the wintertime…
Well, how do you get there? I do not know if
I am flying or if you drive there.
You will probably be flying to Ísafjörður,
which is a bigger town.
OK, and then you drive the rest?
Yes, it is about 20 minutes drive.
I am really looking forward to it. But I also
think, in a way, when you have such a lit-
tle set up, just me and one other person, it
makes it possible for me to play a small town
like that, rather than if you are bringing a
big band. But I do not know… What do you
think?
Well, I do not know, there has been this
sort of trend for famous bands to play
in these small towns in Iceland. Belle &
Sebastian played in Borgarfjörður Eystri
last summer, and that is a town of may-
be… 100 people.
Wow… how exciting. Exciting for them as
well. When you are used to playing for a
large audience, it can be very exciting to play
for a small crowd.
You have managed to be successful in
two different genres, both as a jazz
singer, and as a pop musician, do you
have a preference of the two?
Usually, I like best what I am doing at the
time. Most people find it to be the other way
around; they think the thing they are not do-
ing at the time is better than what they are
doing. But for me it is the other way around,
and I think that is very good, that you can get
into what you are doing. I think it is very cool
to do jazz, because there is a lot of improvi-
sation involved, but then I am not writing my
own music, so then I really miss writing. That
is why I’ve just done those two albums in
Swedish, because I really like writing, I think
that is such a big part of me as an artist.
What about the language then, do you
have a preference whether you sing in
English or Swedish?
Hmmm… I sort of like both actually. I think it
is very important what you have to say, and
that people understand what you are sing-
ing about. I think it is cool when I am playing
in the Nordic countries to be able to sing in
Swedish. But when I am playing somewhere
else, then I think it is cool to be able to sing
in English so other people can understand as
well, so really, I just want to communicate.
I want people to understand. But I guess in
Iceland, many people understand Swedish or
what?
Well, I guess… Everyone is supposed
to learn Danish in school, so we have a
little grasp of Swedish I guess.
But what about outside Reykjavík, do you
think people there are going to understand
less Swedish?
No, I believe it is about the same, they
might even understand more Swedish
outside Reykjavík.
Really?
Yes, people can be a little focused on
English in Reykjavík, but back to you.
So, you are about to start working on a
new album?
No, not really, I am just sitting around and
playing for my self really. There is always this
period when I sit with my guitar and play,
and just take a little time with it.
How do you go about writing then, is it
just you alone?
Yes, I always sit alone and I write the music
and the words at the same time. I just try dif-
ferent things to see what works. Sometimes
nothing comes of it, but sometimes, it clicks.
I guess it is mostly about patience. That is
why I am just sitting around with my guitar
now, if you just sit around and play a little for
long enough, you start to form ideas after
a while.
Do you give it much thought whether to
sing in English or Swedish?
No, I do not give it much thought. There is a
need for music in Swedish here in Sweden as
well, even if everyone understands English.
There is still a need for music in the mother
tongue, don’t you think? I mean, it has to
be the same in Iceland; you probably need a
little bit of both, don’t you?
Well, I guess, but I also think a lot of
bands chose to sing in English, so they
will have more of a chance…
Yes, I understand, but you never know when
or if you are going to get the chance you
know. That is very hard to know. I am just
very glad to have the Nordic countries, be-
cause it means I don’t have that much of a
need to be very famous, I mean there are
people who understand, so I always have
many potential listeners even it is not distrib-
uted all over the world.
But there are a lot of musicians and art-
ists coming out of Sweden in the last
few years; do you have any sort of ex-
planation as to why Swedish musicians
are doing so well?
No, I do not know, but I think you are right,
there are more Swedish musicians being
noticed than there are Danish musicians for
example. But I do not know what it is. May-
be there is this tradition, like Abba maybe,
even if that is not the kind of music people
are listening to now, but there is this idea
among Swedes that we can make it outside
Sweden, I guess, but I don’t know. What do
you think?
Lisa Ekdahl Interviews a Grapevine Journalist
Text by Sveinn Birkir Björnsson