Reykjavík Grapevine - 11.11.2016, Qupperneq 38

Umbra Ensemble is a five-piece
band whose repertoire consists of
pop songs reaching back a thou-
sand years. Among the newest are
compositions by Radiohead and
Joni Mitchell, but the oldest go back
to the 12th century German nun
and polymath Hildegard von Bin-
gen. In between we get period piec-
es about the love life of Henry VIII,
and Icelandic folk songs detailing
the carrying out of babies in the
bad old days. “Móðir mín í kví-kví,”
surely one of the most haunting
songs in any language, is about the
posthumous response of one such
baby to its mother and murderer.
Fittingly, the performance in-
cludes such instruments as the
baroque fiddle and the Celtic harp.
The band’s first album is expected
soon and they have recently scored
a production of ‘Blóðhófnir’, based
on the story by writer Gerður Krist-
ný and describing rape among the
Nordic gods. Founded in 2014, Um-
bra Ensemble is certainly one of
the most interesting cover bands
around, and in a way they are giv-
ing us the musical education we
never had. For you see, up until
quite recently, Iceland was almost
a country without instruments.
Another current band which re-
fuses to play any song composed
later that the 1870s is Rauðir fis-
kar (Red Fish), fronted by former
Sugarcube Einar Melax. So, are we
in the midst of a Medieval Revival?
And what was music like in Iceland
in the Middle Ages?
“People didn’t dance to music,
but rather to singing,” says Einar.
“When I was teaching music in
Kirkjubæjarklaustur, I met a few
grandfathers who had sung a cap-
pella at these types of balls.”
“Dancing was also banned for
a long time,” adds his bandmate
Níels Rúnar Gíslason. “The houses
were so small that people worried
they would constantly be bumping
into each other. This was not only
indecent, but could also damage
the interior.”
But what was the singing like?
“The particular form of Icelandic
music is the singing in fifth inter-
val,” says Einar. “This was brought
to Iceland in the late Middle Ages
by a French priest named Richini
who came from Paris to teach sing-
ing. However, no other teacher was
sent for a long time after, so the
form survived here when it died
out elsewhere. The more common
minor and major intervals didn’t
arrive here until the 19th century.”
“It is a 15th century fashion
that became isolated here,” Níels
agrees.
So when was it that Icelanders
learnt to play instruments?
“Instruments began to be import-
ed after the founding of the Reyk-
javik Music School in 1930, but it
really became a craze around 1970
when every village wanted to have
its own music school. Children no
longer just played football but also
studied music. Björk learnt music
from a very young age; education
was important,” says Einar.
Heiða, host of a radio show
called Langspil (named after the
two-stringed instrument which
was the only one available in the
country for centuries), and a mu-
sician in her own right, agrees:
“When I was growing up, there
wasn’t much to do. You either had
to take up sports or form a band. I
think that a lot of kids who aren’t
into sports go to music schools or
even join marching bands, which
sometimes turns into a career
later on. I could cite Wonderbrass,
Björk’s brass band, or the drum-
mer Birgir Baldursson, who has
played with many of Iceland’s best
known bands. And that’s just my
contemporaries from Keflavík.”
So now that music finally has
come to Iceland, perhaps it’s small
wonder we feel there is a lot of
catching up to do.
LISTEN AND SHARE:
gpv.is/umbra
Music Radio
Young Bands
Play (Very)
Old Songs
Words VALUR GUNNARSSON
Photos ART BICNICK
38The Reykjavík GrapevineIssue 17 — 2016
Medieval Revival