Reykjavík Grapevine - 02.12.2011, Blaðsíða 18

Before we begin, let’s just go
ahead and acknowledge the il-
lustrious, dazzling elephant in the
room: Björk. She’s always there.
Our cultural ambassador: a sym-
bol for independent womanhood,
for creative freedom, for our sup-
posed musical matriarchy.

Indeed, Björk’s success plays
into a recent perception of Ice-
land as some sort of egalitarian
paradise—following this year’s
Airwaves, a journalist for The Qui-
etus gleefully commented that:
“with sell-out shows by Björk,
Sinéad O'Connor and Yoko Ono,
this year’s Airwaves is also the
first music festival I have ever at-
tended where the star attractions
are all female [...] It is tempting
to suggest this girl-power bias
reflects the traditionally matri-
archal and egalitarian values of
[this] Nordic nation.”
Likewise, Iceland’s recent
media attention has focused on
women as headliners—in Septem-
ber, Newsweek crowned Iceland
the “best place to be a woman,”
based on factors ranging from
health care to political power; last
year, an article on The Guardian
website named us “the world’s
most feminist country”; and
for the past two years in a row,
Iceland has been rated #1 in the
World Economic Forum’s Global
Gender Gap Report.
And yet a poll conducted on
behalf of the labour unions Efling,
Hlíf and VFSK by Gallup shows
a 25% discrepancy between the
full-time salaries of men and
women.
So what is the climate really
like on the ground? Does the
media’s emphasis on Iceland’s
progressive social policy insinu-
ate that cultural practices follow
suit—attributing Björk’s success
less to her own talent and resolve,
and rather to a culture that has
seemingly done away with gender
bias?
WHERE ARE ALL
THE GIRLS?

The bar was sparsely filled. Adda In-
gólfsdóttir was performing a few origi-
nal songs from her upcoming album,
accompanied on vocals by her sister
Sunna as they warmed up a release con-
cert for their dad, Ingólfur Steinsson.
“This is a song about things that don’t
quite fit” said Adda mildly, smiling at
a modest crowd, comprised mostly of
friends and family.
Her melodies were minimal yet not
simple, an ebb and f low of tempo and
sentiment that came out sounding like
a sigh of gentle relief. Like with the best
poetry, there was a luscious intimacy to
her expression, the carving out of an-
other world. It was all bewitchingly un-
derstated. One couldn’t help but won-
der where one had been all this time.
Or where Adda had been hiding.
Indeed, there is an array of indepen-
dent female singer-songwriters operat-
ing in Iceland at or just below the radar.
A few have attained success on an inter-
national level—namely Emiliana Tor-
rini and Ólöf Arnalds, who have toured
with the likes of Sting and Blonde
Redhead, respectively. But the truth
is that there is no coherent scene built
around female musicians in Iceland,
no solid foundation on which women
can choose to launch their careers. And
while the number of female solo singer-
songwriters in Reykjavík seems to be
growing, many—like Adda—remain
relatively unknown.
That first step onto the local mu-
sic stage takes a ridiculous amount of
not-giving-a-fuck. Singer, songwriter,
and guitarist Elín Eyþórsdóttir—bet-
ter known as Elín Ey—recognises this
from when she started to play music
live at age 13. “I totally started on my
own,” she says. “I think my first gig
was at Hljómalind. I was really young,
so I mean it was scary. I remember my
hands shaking so much that I could
barely play the guitar. But it was very
exciting. I liked it. At that point I had
finally found myself in some way. I had
found what I wanted to do.”
Elín says that when she started play-
ing she knew of very few other solo
female musicians playing at the lo-
cal level. Although the numbers keep
growing, the ‘scene’ is still difficult
to identify. “There’s a lot of difference
between us,” says Lovísa Elísabet Sigrú-
nardóttir, better known as Lay Low.
Although none of the women we
spoke with felt they were musically
similar to each other, they all agreed
there were links between them through
friendship, collaboration or the act
of mentoring. “I think you can find a
connection from one to the other,” says
Myrra Rós Þrastardóttir, who performs
her original compositions as Myrra
Rós. “You can find some sort of a link,
even though not everyone knows each
other.“
Following these threads of professed
support reveals a tangled web.
“For me, it’s been Emiliana Torrini,”
says Lovísa. “I was invited to join her
[on tour] and I got the most experience
I’ve ever had, playing shows and just
learning how everything goes, getting
advice from her and just seeing how
she does it. Both on personal matters
and musically, she has been a mentor to
me.”
Adda, in turn, cites among others
Lovísa as a supportive figure: "It has
been really important for me to know
other women in the music scene. Like
Lovísa who has released all these re-
cords and has so much know-how and
is so willing to help. And Ólöf, who is
also a friend. My third concert was or-
ganised by Myrra Rós. She was doing
interesting stuff, like this Trúbatrix
thing. It was important for me to get to
know her and Elín Ey.”
Sóley Stefánsdóttir, better known
as sóley, cites Ólöf as having been en-
couraging to her in the field of music
composition. And Myrra likewise cites
Elín as an inf luence. “I saw this girl
called Elín Ey perform, and I was just
GettinG Rid Of
‘the Man
Behind the CuRtain’
Words Rebecca Louder and Valgerður Þóroddsdóttir
Photography Alisa Kalyanova
Six singer-songwriters discuss doin’ it for themselves...
I love the guys, they are really nice, but it’s so hard to talk to
people when they have not experienced that feeling. Like once,
this guy asked me why I was drinking red wine before a gig. But he
didn’t ask the guys. Only me. We were all standing there."
Myrra Rós, Lay Low, Adda, sóley