I bought tickets to see The Sound of Music at the Folketeateret in spring (six months before it even premiered!), and had been anticipating it ever since. Scenekvelder does not disappoint in this production and, through shrewd storytelling and extraordinary set design, managed to blow me away with their delightful retelling of this beautiful classic.
Under the direction of Lars Jacobsen, the audience is given fresh look at this family favourite. We are able to penetrate the icy, authoritative exterior of Captain von Trapp (portrayed by Håvard Bakke) in a touching scene where he is alone in his office, drinking Scotch and thinking of his dead wife (whose portrait stands in the living room). Lena Kristin Ellingsen shines splendidly in the role of whimsical, carefree Maria – the nun-turned-governess who brings love and music back to the Von Trapp household. Ulrikke Brandstorp adds a cheeky, playful side to Liesl (who is more often portrayed as sweet and subtle). Opposite Lars Henrik Aarnes as Rolf, she sings forebodingly (English translation mine):
Jeg vet at verden endrer seg Og her er mitt poeng: Den som behøver hjelp av deg – Du henger med feil gjeng!
Det du trenger Er en god venn som Lytter og vet for seg. Du er 17, skal bli snart 18 Du bør følge… med meg!
I know the world is changing fast And here's my point of view: What really needs some help from you – You're friends with the wrong crowd!
That which you need Is a good friend who Can listen and can judge for herself. You are 17, going on 18 You should follow... my lead!
Without a doubt, Scenekvelder understands musical theatre and how to put on a show – I greatly look forward to their production of Chess next spring!
Until then, take your entire family to watch The Sound of Music before it is too late! 😉
Happy September! 🍁 Whether you are diving straight into productive work or winding down from summer in preparation for a new school year, take a moment to set some goals for this quarter and be inspired by these poems about purpose.
We have not wings, we cannot soar; But we have feet to scale and climb By slow degrees, and more and more, The cloudy summits of our time. The mighty pyramids of stone That wedge-like cleave the desert airs, When nearer seen, and better known, Are but gigantic flights of stairs. The distant mountains, that uprear Their solid bastions to the skies, Are crossed by pathways, that appear As we to higher levels rise. The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night.
Also known as “The Man Who Thinks He Can” and “It’s All In The State of Mind”
If you think you are beaten, you are, If you think you dare not, you don’t, If you like to win, but you think you can't, It’s almost a “cinch” you won't. If you think you'll lose, you've lost, For out in the world you find Success begins with a fellow's will; It's all in the state of mind.
Full many a race is lost Ere ever a step is run; And many a coward fails Ere ever his work's begun. Think big and your deeds will grow, Think small and you'll fall behind, Think that you can and you will; It's all in the state of mind.
If you think you're outclassed, you are, You've got to think high to rise, You've got to be sure of yourself before You can ever win a prize. Life's battles don’t always go To the stronger or faster man, But sooner or later, the man who wins, Is the fellow who thinks he can.
We hear a great commotion 'Bout the ship that comes to grief, That founders in mid-ocean, Or is driven on a reef; Because it's cheap and brittle A score of sinners drown. But we hear but mighty little Of the ships that won’t go down.
Here's honour to the builders— The builders of the past; Here's honour to the builders That builded ships to last; Here's honour to the captain, And honour to the crew; Here's double-column headlines To the ships that battle through.
They make a great sensation About famous men that fail, That sink a world of chances In the city morgue or gaol, Who drink, or blow their brains out, Because of “Fortune's frown”. But we hear far too little Of the men who won’t go down.
The world is full of trouble, And the world is full of wrong, But the heart of man is noble, And the heart of man is strong! They say the sea sings dirges, But I would say to you That the wild wave's song's a paean For the men that battle through.
Back of the beating hammer By which the steel is wrought, Back of the workshop’s clamor The seeker may find the thought, The thought that is ever master Of iron and steam and steel, That rises above disaster And tramples it under heel!
The drudge may fret and tinker Or labor with lusty blows, But back of him stands the Thinker, The clear-eyed man who knows; For into each plow or saber, Each piece and part and whole, Must go the brains of labor, Which gives the work a soul!
Back of the motors humming, Back of the belts that sing, Back of the hammers drumming, Back of the cranes that swing, There is the eye which scans them Watching through stress and strain, There is the mind which plans them— Back of the brawn, the Brain!
Might of the roaring boiler, Force of the engine’s thrust, Strength of the sweating toiler— Greatly in these we trust. But back of them stands the Schemer, The Thinker who drives things through; Back of the job—the Dreamer Who’s making the dream come true!
Woe unto him! the child of this sad earth, Who, in a troubled world, unjust and blind, Bears Genius—treasure of celestial birth, Within his solitary soul enshrined. Woe unto him! for Envy's pangs impure, Like the undying vultures', will be driven Into his noble heart, that must endure Pangs for each triumph; and, still unforgiven, Suffer Prometheus' doom, who ravished fire from Heaven.
Still though his destiny on earth may be Grief and injustice; who would not endure With joyful calm, each proffered agony; Could he the prize of Genius thus ensure? What mortal feeling kindled in his soul That clear celestial flame, so pure and high, O'er which nor time nor death can have control, Would in inglorious pleasures basely fly From sufferings whose reward is Immortality? No! though the clamors of the envious crowd Pursue the son of Genius, he will rise
From the dull clod, borne by an effort proud Beyond the reach of vulgar enmities. 'Tis thus the eagle, with his pinions spread, Reposing o'er the tempest, from that height Sees the clouds reel and roll above our head, While he, rejoicing in his tranquil flight, More upward soars sublime in heaven's eternal light.
And to further help you kickstart your month, get 10% off your order from Book Depository with the discount code NO10! This offer is valid 2-15 September for orders to Norway 😉
What are your goals for the next months? Let me know in the comments below!